#Question: if I draw Bill in this set of photos who will he take with? I see him getting close to Anya or Damian????

[nomaejie]

p o l a r o i d

#spy x family #my art #chap 75 give me hope that them could be besties aaaaaa #damian desmond #anya forger #phải tag nhiều quá #emile elman #ewen egeburg #becky blackbell #Question: if I draw Bill in this set of photos who will he take with? I see him getting close to Anya or Damian???? #I didn't make ewen's hair high enough I'm so sorry Mr. egeburg

[flameandignite]

Here's my attempt to make sense of the timeline of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. Yeah, I know I'm looking too close at things that weren't meant to be looked at closely.

P1 ENDING: Jack escapes from the gallows with the help of Will & Elizabeth, and Norrington gives him one day’s head start before he begins chasing him. This happens on 21 September, 1723 according to text on the arrest warrant prop from P2.

ISLA DE MUERTA: Jack and his crew return to Isla de Muerta only to find that the island has been swallowed into the sea, taking the treasure with it; the cursed monkey is the only thing to survive. I can only assume that this immediately follows the gallows escape.

HURRICANE: Norrington becomes obsessed with capturing Jack and chases him across the seven seas, but loses his ship and crew in a hurricane off Tripoli. He resigned his commission “some months” before the opening of P2.

TURKISH PRISON: In his P2 intro, Jack is still far from the Caribbean, held captive in a Turkish Prison along the cliffs of the Mediterranean Sea. He eventually escapes and reunites with his crew aboard the Black Pearl. This was originally scripted as the opening for P2, and makes more sense to look at it as taking place first.

BOOTSTRAP: Bootstrap Bill visits Jack on the Black Pearl and curses him with the black spot; Jack freaks out and heads for land. This is still fairly near the Turkish Prison, as evidenced by the Turkish sailors who find Jack’s hat and are promptly eaten by the Kraken.

P2 OPENING: Lord Beckett arrives in Port Royal to arrest Will and Elizabeth (and Norrington) for helping Jack escape the gallows. This is the opening of P2 in the final cut of the film.

PELEGOSTO: Will goes to find Jack and the search eventually leads him to find the Black Pearl beached on racism cannibal island. How the hell did "heading for land" take Jack from the Mediterranean to the Caribbean??? So much for trying to avoid the wrath of the Kraken. Anyway, the rest of the film happens in a more or less straightforward manner.

How much time passes between P1 and P2? Well, there are two possible canon answers to that question:

SWANN’S LETTER: The letter that Governor Swann writes for the King is dated 24 March, 1724 according to photos of the prop. If you take these dates written on the props as canon, then almost five months have passed between the ending of P1 and Elizabeth’s escape.

DELETED SCENE: In a deleted exchange between Will and Bootstrap, Will mentions that it’s been “nearly a year” since he lifted the curse. If you take this as canon, then a bit more time has passed between films than is shown by the dates on the prop documents.

How much time passes between P2 and P3? The closest we have to a canon answer is, uh. quite vague.

NOVELIZATION: The At World's End novelization only tells us "The governor had been searching for Elizabeth for months, ever since he helped her escape her cell in Port Royal and saw her flee into the dark night."

And finally, there's this one little thing that raises so many questions:

TORTUGA: Will looks for Jack in Tortuga, and hears from Scarlett & Giselle that they haven't seen him in a month. This sets Jack's last sighting in the Caribbean at that point after the hurricane off Tripoli and Norrington's resignation "several months ago", but he's still in the Mediterranean when he flees from the Kraken. Did he go back to the Mediterranean after the hurricane in order to obtain the drawing of the key at the Turkish Prison? Did he stop in Tortuga on the way to Pelegosto for a quick shag? Man, I have no fucking clue.

#potc #pirates of the caribbean

[missmortox]

Frequently Asked Questions:

What is this Blog About?

This blog is primarily about Alida Morberg (public figure) and baby mama to celebrity actor Bill Skarsgard. The majority of the content is commentary on her behavior surrounding his behavior and how it's led to his decline.

What are your sources?

My sources are Alida's social media posts as well as "news" articles from websites like Aftonbladet and Hant. These sources are in print and usually paid for by Alida herself. The videos that Alida posts of herself (or her friends do) are just videos that exist and events that happened. If you do not like these events or facts then take it up with Alida.

Why do you hate Alida Morberg?

I don't hate her as a person as much as I hate her behavior. She is clearly a toxic girlfriend, baby mama, and person in general. Her attention whoring on social media (plus whatever she is doing to Bill to make him look like he's dead inside) is concerning and deplorable. If Alida insists on continuing to make herself a public figure by claiming the title of actress and model then she is opening herself up to commentary.

Did Alida groom Bill when he was underage?

More than likely Alida had some sort of contact with Bill when he was a minor at the age of 15 or 16. This started when she was dating Fares Fares who was best friends with Bill's brother, Alex. Though there's no concrete evidence that she did anything with or to him at that age, the amount of loyalty he shows to the ex of his brother's best friend (when really he should just want to get away from her knowing what she did) makes no sense other than if she groomed him. It would also explain why none of them talk about it and try to draw attention away from it. There's probably more truth to the rumor than lies and there's plenty of evidence to imply that's exactly what happened.

Do you think Oona and Minou are Bill's children?

I think it's unlikely they are. With Oona I could go 50/50 but since Alida was working with Filip Berg at the time she got pregnant with Oona (and he's assumed to be the real father, not Bill) and Oona looks way more like Filip than Bill I think it could go either way. As for Minou, if she is biologically Bill's I do not think it's because he had sex with her. The timing doesn't add up (as in, there's no possible time this could have happened since he would have been filming and it's doubtful she even got on the set to be with him). Her murky way of changing the dates of birth were a way to hide when Minou was actually conceived so no one could do the math. Moving to another country to have the baby and also hiding the baby's birthday is another clue. If Minou actually is his biologically, I believe the kid was created via invitro (so he never touched Alida) or a surrogate. With Alida's age and drinking problems I should hope she didn't physically have a child as it seems like that would be putting yet another one in danger.

Do you think Alida is abusive and controlling?

There's several indications that she is abusive and controlling. The most definitive one was when she did a Zoom interview and used Bill's account. This shows that she has access to his accounts, at least one of them. If that's the case she probably has access to more (or previously did). This draws into question if she ever had access to his (former) IG account and would explain the odd likes and comments on some of her photos before Bill ultimately got rid of the account entirely. With how Bill acts, looks, and the way his stutter has gotten increasingly worse over the time he's been with her I'd say that she plays a huge role in what's going on. She can obviously force him to drop everything to go look miserable at a premiere with her and he's not saying no (when he should). This does imply signs of not only abuse but grooming as well.

How do you know Alida actually drank alcohol while pregnant?

Other than the photos and videos where you can clearly see that some of those bottles are definitely not non-alcoholic it's pretty obvious. Alida has a history of alcohol and substance abuse all across her social media. It's doubtful she'd be someone who could give that up during pregnancy. Though I will agree that in some photos and videos it may be questionable what she's drinking. However, she was certainly fine with continuing the image of a drinking pregnant woman even after the backlash. Someone who is aware of the perception they are giving off (especially a bad one) would have taken measures to stop doing that, or at very least not been on camera doing it multiple times over the course of two pregnancies. I don't think her alcohol soaked brain cares what she's doing is wrong.

Did Alida really film and post Bill without his consent?

Multiple times. Yes, we know it's without his consent because in all of the videos posted he is not aware that he's being filmed. He never looks at the camera or acknowledges her. Without him doing either of these things there's no way anyone can say he consented to being filmed. No, she's not just allowed to film him and post it "whenever" because they are dating. He's outspoken about his privacy and social media and she would have known better. If this was something that was okay for her to do she wouldn't have had to do it so sneakily and she'd still be posting videos of it to this day because he obviously wouldn't care.

Does Alida really get Botox and Lip Fillers?

Look at her face. That's the proof. She can deny it all she wants. Her stans can deny it all they want. Her lips are too thick and a completely unnatural shape. Her eyes and eyebrows are unnaturally arched and paralyzed. There's no way she isn't abusing either of these cosmetic procedures.

Do you think Bill is gay and Alida is a beard?

I think it's possible Bill is also attracted to men. I think that Alida was supposed to be a "good time fuck" girl and never a baby mama. If Bill was that interested in her he'd act like it and show some interest in defending her or something other than the miserable red carpet photos they have together. I think there is a lot of evidence that Bill has enjoyed the company of men in the past. It is possible that Alida is aware of this and she takes advantage of it because if he doesn't want it known she can use it as blackmail material. That would certainly explain a lot. As to if he's 100% full on gay (and not bisexual or something) I can't tell you.

Did Alida really post nudes of Oona on instagram?

Yes, she posted nudes of her daughter to thousands of strangers on her very public instagram. This happened. It was a horrible thing to do and I don't know why people defend it (but they do). Especially since I'm positive the reason she did it was to get attention from Bill.

Do you think Alida likes any attention she gets? Positive or negative?

I mean, I think the proof of that is pretty obvious seeing as how she probably gets way more negative attention than positive and she still keeps behaving like she's behaving. She's also obviously addicted to reading anything about her that exists. On Instagram, on here, on any website that posts about her and then she tries to change accordingly.

Did Alida really copy Tuva? Why? Is it that she wants to be with Alex and not Bill?

Alida copying Tuva's style is not the first instance of her copying a girlfriend that Alex had. She also did this with Alexa Chung when Alex was dating her. I believe she thought she was going to use Fares connection with Alex to jump from him to get with Alex herself. Fortunately for us it seems like Alex was way smarter than that. Though I think it's possible he may have fucked her a few times it's obvious she wasn't end game for him. He probably realized how crazy she was and pawned him off on Bill somehow.

Are Alida and Bill Married?

No, Alida and Bill are not married or engaged. Anyone who says that is trying to start a rumor. Including, in some cases, Alida herself. Do not believe anyone who says that. If they were to actually get married or engaged I'm positive Alida would make several hundred announcements and stories about it herself.

#alida morberg #bill skarsgård #alex skarsgard #tuva novotny #frequently asked questions

[markmonlux]

Weekly Dose of Mark

Saturday, April 15, 2023• 04/15/23

I sent out a Comic Critic email for the first time in months. I’ve realized I’ve fallen out of the habit of drawing comics daily, and I think I should get back into it. Before, I got more done. Well, at least I got a couple of comics drawn at the end of the week. The movie review was on “Zardoz.” Jane H. wrote about how that film temporarily stopped her lusting for Sean Connery. I’m paraphrasing.

I spent Monday morning and later evening in Downtown Tacoma. In the morning, I went to Freelance Fandango, where I met with Corey, Stan, Nori, and Haley. Corey brought prints for the binder, and Stan brought a Warlock compilation for show and tell. He also got a How to Think When You Draw book for Haley to check out. I brought in Shannon Wheeler’s Too Much Coffee Man compilation. Nori showed us bird photos he’s been taking with his telescopic lens. He would have been out on his kayak or taking more pictures, but it was raining today. This week, the KitKat flavor was Gato Chocolate, a chocolate mouse cake with a hint of strawberry flavor. We compared them to the American flavored Strawberry and Dark Chocolate. The Japanese flavor was once again superior. The Sisters of Pythias held a Ham dinner as a fundraiser in the evening. It was much better than the last Ham dinner they did. I think they took the feedback they overheard and applied it. Krista doesn’t like ham, so it was a treat for me. I went back for seconds. Oddly, small KitKats left over from someone’s Easter celebration were desert.

On Tuesday, I left the house at 6:40 am to drive to Seattle Central College to give a presentation titled “Cartooning as Labor.” I’d been invited by Leonard, who knew me from the Graphic Artists Guild. He teaches cartooning. I drove by five car accidents but did manage to arrive at 8am, in time for Leonard to take me to breakfast, where I had Bacon and Egg Tortillas with hashbrowns. I think the students got something out of it; some of them were interested in making cartoons. Others were taking the class for credit. A walkout was scheduled at 10 o’clock, so I left as the building emptied. When I got home, I made sure that Krista and I went for a walk before lunch. I ate a very light lunch.

My Uncle Bill, the twin to my father Jake, will be moving from New Mexico to Washington State next month. He’s moving to be closer to his family. Two of his daughters live in the Puget Sound area. I look forward to seeing more of him.

Speaking of my father, Jake, he and my mother are visiting my brother Stan and his wife, Nancy, in Hawaii. From the photos, he is texting the siblings; they are having fun at the beach.

I got an exciting email from the city of Tacoma. It reads:

Greetings and congratulations, Mark!

You have been selected to create a Traffic Box Wrap design for the City of Tacoma! We received 126 applications, and you are one of 17 artists selected, as a cohort representing a diversity of styles and perspectives, based on the quality exemplified in your past work. Rebecca Solverson will be reaching out to you soon to set up an orientation focused on the technical requirements and assistance in understanding the project and specifications for wrap designs.

We greatly appreciate the time and effort you put into this submission. In addition to this opportunity, we may reach out to you to create one-off, site-specific wrap designs based on the information you provided about parts of Tacoma you feel especially connected with.

Thank you and let us know if you have any questions!

BK LeMay

I’m very stoked by this news. I’ve wanted to do a Traffic Box Wrap since the city started the program. I’ve applied before but didn’t make the cut. Then there was the pandemic, and then funding was an issue. I had my fingers crossed when I applied. I have an idea of what I’m going to do. It will be something that will be whimsical as people drive by, admired when they are stopped, and enthralled when they find hidden elements on close inspection. It’s going to be groovy!

Alley News

Every trip to Costco has included buying a couple of bags of dirt for the garden. We also picked up some Chicken Manure, which works very well but stinks to high heaven until you get it in the ground. And some would argue even then, there’s a smell. But the vegetables love it. Krista is worried she’s not getting the peas in early enough.

Pat Smith and I spent three hours at Wapato Park on Saturday because there was a Pokemon special event he wanted to take advantage of. I was all for this. The whole goal was to catch as many of one type of Pokemon as possible. So the last week, we’ve been gathering game elements to assist this goal. We plugged in lure modules, lure incense, and lucky eggs for extra points and enjoyed the outdoors. There was less walking than planned. We sat under the protection of roof-covered picnic areas because it was raining part of the time. Why would I do this? Besides my neighbor’s company, I’ve been stuck at level 40 for nearly two years because one of the tasks to get to level 41 was to catch 200 Pokemon in one day. And it never seemed like I had a good enough excuse to blow an afternoon in the park catching Pokemon, at least not on my own. It is with a happy heart that I can announce that I’m finally at Level 41, whatever non-accomplishment that is. It was a fun way to pass the time. But it might be a while before I do that again. If it wasn’t raining, I’m sure Krista would have preferred I mowed the yard and garden. She’s started to drop hints in that direction.

This week’s dreams:

 April 8

#IDreamt I was flying to a reunion, but the plane was forced to land due to snow storms. All flights to the destination or out of the airport were then canceled. Discovered Arthur Ross Jr. was stranded with me at Cincinnati Airport.

April 9

#IDreamt Tacoma became an area of study as our dimension would partially phase with a similar dimension. In the other dimension, my friends had a toddler. So they would find ‘their’ kid popping in and out of their lives at odd times.

April 10

 #IDreamt my sister was in charge of a cruise liner’s entertainment. One of her performers for a dinner mystery was AWOL, so she asked me to fill in as an aging, poorly skilled drag queen.

April 11

#IDreamt I was working at a summer camp. The washers and dryers were caked with years of dirt and grime, so I was giving them a scrub.

April 12

#IDreamt Lani Lawrence was helping me buy property in the afterlife. Turns out that burning things like money did arrive for you. She had lots. Newcomer got a discount on land, so we were working on a deal.

April 13

#IDreamt I drew a t-shirt design for a band back in the ’80s that became famous and a pop culture icon. More than half of my income came from its licensing. It’s a shame that I woke up without fame or fortune.

April 14

#IDreamt I lived on the road. I was placing my aged orange cat on a sofa in a strange house to sleep while I rearranged the contents of the back seat of our vehicle.

April 15

#IDreamt four dreams last night. Each is in a different county with different people. All of them were jailbreaks.

 I watched some movies this week:

 35. April 8

The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then the Bigfoot (2018) Rating: 8

When it comes to movies that have both Hitler and Bigfoot in them, this one is at the top . You might expect a film with such a cheezy title to be poorly produced, lacking in talent, and have poorly constructed dialog. But this film dismisses all those expectations. It’s played straight and honestly, just like the main character. The entire movie is all about a person’s character. Plus, if you are a Sam Elliott fan, as I am, you will find it a delightful film to watch. Plus, I give it an extra point for having a dog with a name in it. I watched this movie on Tubi.

36. April 9

Apollo 18 (2011) Rating: 6

I’m not a big fan of found-footage horror films. But I found myself drawn into this festival of shake-shots because it’s set on the moon. After viewing the movie, I found myself thinking of the cold war hysteria science fiction films of the ’50s. I love those old films. I believe that the undercurrent of nostalgia, along with my interest in space exploration, is what drew me to this movie. I watched this movie on Tubi.

37. April 15

Demolition (2015) Rating: 8

This drama involves a unique perspective of how a person has to excavate out of their numbness induced by denial, loss, and grief. What makes this well-sculpted film from a seven to an eight is the songs that are carefully selected for the soundtrack. The songs which aren’t familiar, you are left craving to explore. That sense of desire for exploration reflects the similar personal struggles of the characters in the film in a way that is genius in its subtlety. I watched this movie on a Netflix DVD.

38. April 15

Cocaine Bear (2023) Rating: 7

I’m giving this move an extra point on a title that became a pop-culture hit overnight. It also gets an extra point for having a dog with a name. I don’t think anyone expected this to be Ray Liotta’s final film. Mr. Liotta died in his sleep from a heart attack filming Dangerous Waters in the Dominican Republic. His death scene in this movie was gut-wrenching, and I would give an extra point for it, but it might be considered in bad taste. I watched this with Krista on Peacock. Well, I watched it. Krista gave up on it and busied herself with a game on her iPad.

More next week,

Mark

[limitlessgojo]

Going to a Private Onsen with Gojo

NSFW Gojo Satoru x F!Reader, established relationship

Type: One shot. This is around almost 4k words.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW content, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, daddy kink, squirting, overstimulation, praising, dom!Gojo, breeding kink, slightly manipulative/ Yandere Gojo, degradation

Notes: finally got to finish this fic, my motivation just dropped halfway lmao. The inn house has rooms with private hot springs. Not shared like the communal ones in public bath houses. This is half fluff half smut.

The private hot springs per room are separated by bamboo trees and wooden walls. (With holes. So you know what's gonna go down👀💦💦💦)

You and Satoru finally get the chance to have a 2 day 1 night short break from work. He takes you to an inn, checking in a tatami room with a private hot spring (onsen) included. The place smelled fresh, and you could smell the flowers outside.

"We can see the hot springs from here love. What do you think? It's gorgeous isn't it?" Satoru wiggled his eyebrows at you. You both set your luggage down, making yourselves at home. The sun is still high up, it is only 2:00pm and the hot spring is steaming, the sunlight making the water shine and glitter.

"It's not bad at all; the room is quite big as well." You smiled. Despite knowing that you're only stroking his ego, you let it go for once. Just this once because it is a special break after all. He internally pats himself on the back, beaming at you. “Glad you like it. Let’s take a walk around the area and then come back for dinner.”

“Fine with me”. Both of you changed into traditional clothing first. Gojo into a Yukata and you into your kimono. He helped you tie your obi and do your hair up. "Look how pretty my kitten is." He practically purred out as he cinched your waist beneath his large hands. His hands felt like fire on your waist.

You flushed, softly calling out his name. "N-not now." You stared at his profile. All lean and muscular. Knowing his physique hidden under the blue fabric did nothing to help. 

"Not now." He agreed. But the glint in his eyes said otherwise. Still he held himself back.

So you both set out, exploring the town. The stalls were bustling with people. You both bought souvenirs for the students as well as omamori (charms) for various purposes. 

You visited the temple and just tried to relieve the pent up stress from the last few weeks. “The air is so cool and it smells really nice here.” The flowers were all in bloom, as it was spring as of now. Satoru, however, kept his eyes on you for most of the time instead of the scenery around him. 

“Yeah, it’s real pretty isn’t it? Wanna take some photos?”

“Good idea! I need a new lock screen pic of us Toru!” you smiled. Your smile unfortunately dimmed upon noticing other women staring at Satoru and batting their eyelashes at him (ignoring the fact that you were right beside him). 

You’ve always known that he was a gorgeous person, just thanking your lucky stars that he actually came around to reciprocate your feelings. “Hey”, Satoru cupped your face and turned it to face him. He was pouting. “Focus on me love. This trip is just for us.” 

You gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, sorry about that. AH! I wanna have a picture by that Sakura tree~”. You tried to be more enthusiastic and engaging, blocking out any jealous and negative thoughts. 

Seriously, it's not like you didn't trust him. Just that your insecurity gets to you sometimes. You quickly bat the thoughts away. Your thoughts came to a halt when you felt something soft on the corner of your lips. 

"Love you." Satoru murmured against your cheek. You turned to see his eyes under his drooping sunglasses just an inch away from yours. You couldn't help but sigh in admiration. Of course he knows how you feel. "I love you more Toruu~ Now let's go." You gave him a genuine and bright smile. Walking over to a shaded area near the lake, surrounded by tall grass.

He leaned down to press his cheek against the top of your head and placed one arm around you. His other hand was holding up his phone for a selfie. After you took some pretty and funny photos, he surprised you by bringing out a polaroid.

"Eh?! Since when did you bring that with you?" You asked him. Satoru gave a sneaky smirk, "Well. Since you talked non stop about loving the vintage aesthetic recently, I thought it would be good to make a small scrapbook or photo album of this trip." 

".... who are you and what have you done with my husband..."

"Hey! That's rude. I'm always nice and sweet." He pouted and widened his eyes, using a finger to push down his shades. "I knowww~ Just kidding Toru, I love your ideas. I'll help you with it then." 

"Of course you will pumpkin." He squeezed you against his side, not caring about anyone who might be looking at both of you being overly affectionate in public. 

He took pictures using the polaroid camera every now and then. Taking your hand and leading you around, Satoru did not give your thoughts a chance to move away from him. He didn't hesitate to tickle you when your guard was down and poked at your cheeks with the most annoying grin. 

After that it was just you and him. Enjoying your precious time together, undisturbed by anyone else. By the time the sun was setting, you dragged him over to an Izakaya. "Should we have dinner here?" You asked him. 

"Ooooh! Looks like they have good meat and eel. That's fine with me." He replied. You both enjoyed dinner and had a bit of sake. Satoru always looked cute with flushed red cheeks and that big stupid smile of his. "Well you look cuter than me for once Hun." He quipped back.

You smiled as you wiped that teriyaki sauce off the corner of his mouth for him. It was a really peaceful day. 

Walking back to the inn, you noticed a shadow moving quickly just by the corner of your eye. This is why you don't think about work during your free time. Feeling chills run up your spine, you turned to see a curse, staring straight back at you. "Ah shit I left my sword back in the inn." 

Not even having finished your sentence, you watched as Satoru flicked his wrist and took down the 2nd grade curse in an instant. "I told you not to worry darling. I'm not going to let anything hurt you." He tutted and booped your nose playfully, eyes shining. 

"Heehh~" you pretended not to be impressed but by the look on his face, you knew you didn't do a good job of hiding it. He just chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. "Toru I can't walk like this." 

It was like trying to lug a 190cm tall clingy infant. "I'll protect you with my infinity from all sides love." He looked really happy, just prancing around with you in his arms as you both made your way back to the inn. 

💜💜💜

You both settled back in and got ready to take a bath. It was a really good day and everything went smoother than you thought it would, knowing your chaotic and unorthodox doof of a husband. 

"Dinner was so good. This was a great idea Toru, thank you." You smiled up at him. He smiled back, so soft and gentle with you. The way he never is and never will be with anyone else.

"Now then, I'll be taking my payment from you." You looked up at him, confusion evident on your face. Your husband of 5 years still confuses you until this day. "I'm sorry?" you felt affronted as you asked the question. You had no problem paying your share of the bills, heck you earn a lot as a 1st grade Jujutsu sorcerer yourself. 

But Satoru spent about over a month pestering you about wanting to treat you to a short staycation with him. "Yes", he replied slowly making his way towards you, towering over your shorter frame. You stood your ground and craned to look up at him. 

"Thank you for the meal sweetheart. You will be my dessert." He removed his glasses and threw them aside to showcase his bright blue eyes. You shivered from the intensity, and his lips turned up in a smirk. His words were somewhat funny, but his tone was dead serious.

He wasted no time, leaning down to suck down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, after he pulled one side of your kimono off your shoulder. "Sa-Satoru!!, hah- ", his grip on you was way too tight.

"Baby, I am so sorry I can't wait any longer. Won't you be good for me?" Satoru asked as he took a step back and cupped your cheeks in his hands.

It's true that this man has no self-control, always palming your ass down the hallways at Tokyo Jujutsu High. But you rarely see him as desperate as he is now, that it was actually endearing to you. So you relented, earning a grin from the man.

He helped you out of your kimono, littering small kisses on your forehead and cheeks, before he started biting on one ear. 

Unclasping your bra, he reached down to grope your breasts. You stared at him as he suckled on one nipple while toying with the other. His eyes opened to meet yours, and you could feel the growing wetness between your legs.

You also reached up to pull his Yukata off, undoing the tie on his waist. "I love it when you hair is done up darling. I can bite as much of your neck as I want." He growled out against your shoulder, biting and sucking wherever he can.

Your mouth watered upon seeing the outline of his hard-on straining against his boxers. On the other hand, Satoru stared unashamedly as you pulled down your panties, keeping your legs together to keep your slick from dripping down your legs.

Impatiently, you reached up and ran your fingers through his locks. "Satoru~" you whined. He only smirked in response. In one quick movement, he gathered you into his arms and brought you over to the small washing area with the soap and shower-head. 

He was still in his boxers however. You just stared at it, drawing closer to press your hand and rub the outline. He let out a long moan, which led to you to quickly look up and snap out a hush. "The neighbours might hear us Toru." You whined. 

"Tch, Let them hear. They can't touch or experience us anyways. And I want to show off my lovely little wife." He leered down at you, finally removing his wet boxers and throwing it onto the ground.

His hard cock sprang up and slapped against his abs. As if moving by some force, you immediately dropped to your knees. Rubbing soap onto his waist, thighs, and finally pumping his cock with your soapy hands. You looked up to him as you "cleaned" him off with innocent eyes. 

Satoru wasn't impressed. "Don't tease me baby or you'll regret it." He pulled you up and brought you into a deep kiss. You both gathered more soap and started washing each other off.

With his hands moving slowly down the sides, Satoru didn't hold himself back from touching every nook and cranny of your body. From your neck, to your shoulders, down your breasts, going to your thighs and legs. His hands were rubbing at your skin, inching nearer and nearer to your cunt. Until he suddenly pulled away, making you cry out at the loss of contact. 

"Be good for me and let me clean you first kitten." He whispered.

No other words were shared as you both rinsed and washed each other off before moving to the onsen.

"You know, I've always wanted to fuck you in a hot spring." Satoru smirked as you both dipped into the water. You sat on his lap and clasped your hands behind his neck, straddling him. His hands gripping either side of you waist tightly. 

"No I don't know." You turned away from him as you rested your head against his chest. He hummed. Both of you resting for a bit. You were both in the same state, antsy for action, but trying to enjoy the hot springs at the same time. 

For a while you both just stayed soaking in the hot water. Until you started grinding down against him. He just stared down at your figure. Breasts spilling against his chest, the slope of your s line with your ass under the water. But you refused to meet his eyes.

Satoru didn't really like that very much. He pinched your thigh hard. "Ow!,' you yelped. "Toru what was-" you finally turned to look up at him, but faltered and stopped moving. His eyes were bright and his expression dark. "I thought my baby was going to be good for me tonight. You don't wanna beg me later just to come right? Or does daddy have to make you do just that?"

As soon as he said the word daddy you felt your insides clench around nothing, thighs quivering. He looked down towards your body, grinning at your response. He pulled you out of the water, sitting down on the ground beside it. 

"Suck me off baby and I'll consider making you cum."

You crawled over on all fours towards him. You kissed him first, then trailed downwards, licking off the water and sweat on Satoru's abs and the outlines of his hard muscles. He groans while staring at you, pupils blown so wide his bright blue eyes actually look dark for once. 

You can see the carnal lust raging behind him as you squeeze your breasts together while kneeling and licking his abs. You leave small butterfly kisses as you slowly make your way down to his aching member.

But, he groans as you skip past it and suck love marks into his lower thighs. "Pumpkin, please -UNGH, p-please don't tease so much." Satoru groaned. You smirked up at him, meeting his eyes while sticking your tongue out and licking one of his balls. Sucking it into your mouth and covering it with your spit.

He reached down to lift your chin up, thumbing your lips as he watched the saliva trickle down down side of your mouth to his fingers. The current sight of you is so lewd and dirty that Satoru almost came on the spot right there. 

You decide to humor him and move to licking the head of his dick, while grabbing a hold of the base and slowly pumping it up and down. Satoru threw his head back. He looked up, seeing the night sky and the stars twinkling while feeling hot pleasure run through his body. He felt like he was floating.

You tried deepthroating all of him in one go, but he was just too big. "Baby, your mouth is too small for daddy's cock isn't it?". You whimpered in response. Trying to swallow as much of him as you can while using your hand for the remainder of his length.

Quiet mewls escaped the sides of your mouth as you opened your aching jaws wider. Tears started running down your face. You didn't stop as you relaxed your jaw and took more of him, swallowing what you can while pumping. He bucked up without warning, causing your gag reflex to react. Then he pulled you off.

"That's enough for now. I wanna make sure I stuff every bit of cum I have inside of your pussy baby." He pulled you up over him, this time with his back to the floor as he spoke. 

"Lemme eat you out, I've been waiting for this all day." He was salivating at the sight of your pussy, positioned in front of his face. You lowered yourself onto him slowly. Impatiently, he tugged you waist down, smashing your lower lips against his mouth. You let out a loud yelp followed by heavy breaths and mewls as he ate you out.

Thrusting his tongue in and out of your walls. He loved the taste of you, always thirsty for more. You tried to grind your pussy against his face. But he held your legs in place with one arm, wrapping around your behind. The other hand was playing with your clit. 

In no time at all you were sobbing and cumming all over his face. Satoru didn't spare you one second of rest. He pulled away and lined himself up, pushing into you during your orgasm. 

He immediately started fucking into you earnestly, grabbing a hold of your waist and lifting it to pull you on and off his cock. "Toru, it's too much for me, I can't-" You could barely get the words out of your mouth as you slurred them out with your eyes shut. 

"Yes you can. I know you can. Because you're made for me and only you can do a good job for me like this love." Satoru grunted as he pumped into you like there was no tomorrow. 

He loved it when your walls clenched and squeezed against him tightly. Especially when your whole body shook during an orgasm. Whenever you open your eyes all you can see are the stars blurring due to your movements. You both came like that, with your backs arching. His cock stayed hard, twitching as it spurted and filled you up. 

He suddenly felt the sensation of eyes on him. As the user of six eyes, his senses were wide alert at ALL times. He looked to the side of the wooden wall, and saw dark eyes staring back at him.

He didn't stop thrusting. You whined and mewled as you ground your hips against his. "Fuck, such a slut for me. Love it when you cry and make those noises babe. Just look at me. I won't look at any other person, man or woman. I'm yours as long as you're mine." He growled out.

He pulled out to reposition you. Dragging your body on top of his. Your back against his chest. "Daddy, I want you. I want more!" You whined out. You positioned his cock at your entrance.

"Daddy will give his baby what she wants. You've been so good to me after all love." He smirked inwardly pushed back upwards into you, thrusting at a fast pace. (Satoru chose the position because he knew you were both being watched. He loves to make other men so jealous of him having you).

You could only squeal and try to hold yourself up against him, putting your palms against the floor. But it was no use. He grabbed your thighs and kept fucking up harder and harder, making it hard for you to hold onto anything.

"Yes just like that baby. You're so good to me. You don't need to think. I'll make it so that you don't have to do anything else. You only need to feel my cock yeah? My doll is the best when she is crying on my cock." He moaned out. 

The man on the other side of the wall was joined by a few other men. Satoru used his ability to see through the wall following the movement of their cursed energy and saw that they were touching themselves to you.

"Daddy, please more. Daddyyy~" you were slipping further into subspace. Soon you couldn't speak clearly anymore. Just babbling nonsense while bouncing on Satoru's lap and staring hazily up at the sky.

"I think we have company." He laughed out. You snapped out of your haze to see peeking eyes behind the bamboo sticks. Satoru just thrusted harder. "Let's give them a show of their lifetime hmm? I spy old men wanting some action. But they won't be able to touch you baby."

He reached up with one hand to grope your breast and the other stayed below to play with your clit. Sex to him was almost like an art form. He knew exactly how to play with your body to bring you to your strongest orgasms. 

You tried to cover your body up but he pulled your arms away. "Don't run away baby, daddy's here to protect you. It will be okay."

At the end of the day you trusted him and his six eyes, so you let go. Pussy clenching harder at the thought of being watched by unknown strangers.

"That's it, my angel. So good for me. You're leaking far more than normal slut. You like it when people watch you get fucked?"

He reached up with his cum stained hand to spit into it. Then shoved his fingers in your mouth. You obediently suckled on and cleaned his fingers for him. He continued to grope you as he pounded away.

Satoru wasn't too worried about the spectators next door. He can see them clearly. Several middle aged men (probably sharing a larger room) messily jerking off to both of you. He saw the way their eyes travelled across your breasts and cunt, which was oozing with his cum.

He hit a hard deep spot inside of you which caused you to squirt hard, a large amount of liquid spraying out. Satoru quickly put his hands over your clit and furiously rubbed at it, wanting to prolong your squirting. You were crying out loud at this point. It was just music to his ears.

One man groaned out, causing you to tense and tighten and Satoru to moan out.

"You love putting a show on huh baby? We should do this more often if it gets you tighter and wetter around me." He snarked out while you drooled and asked for more.

He didn't stop thrusting until he came a few more times inside of you, changing positions.

The men watched as you rode him, your breasts bouncing up and down, while you placed your palms flat on Satoru's chest. They stared at the cum flowing out of your pussy, being fucked back into you by Satoru. The way you both groaned as you clamped down tight and milked his cock.

Soon you found yourself laying on your side with one leg up with Satoru spooning you from behind. What was frightening was his stamina and power. 

His thrusts never lost strength and soon you just felt like his cock was drilling a space inside of you, just for it. You felt so boneless in his hands when you both finished, laying down on your sides.

"Babe…. You okay? We need to clean up." Satoru whispered against your shoulder.

You could only mumble incoherent noises. Squeezing around his softening length, still plugged inside of you to keep his cum inside. 

Satoru gave out a soft sigh. Then gathered you into his arms and took you away from prying eyes. He just turned and smirked at them as he walked away with you, butt naked.

The watchers were disappointed that the show was over. Satoru then cleaned you both with the shower head in the washing area and wiped you down with soft towels.

You stayed silent the whole time. Your head felt like it was in the clouds. Just letting Satoru do his way with you like a doll. "You were really good for me tonight angel. Nobody else can touch you but me." He chuckled darkly.

You just listened to his simple commands such as putting your arms up when he dressed you in your nightgown. 'I always love fucking her dumb.' He smiled to himself as he settled you into his arms in bed. 

"Next time I'll be fucking you in the water." He whispered. He brought you closer to him, tucking your head against his neck. Kissing your forehead and patting you to put you to sleep. 

🎇🎇🎇

The next morning you were absolutely horrified to see people staring at you, when you both left your room to check out. 'I bet they heard us last night. And who were the ones peaking at us?!?!' you frightfully thought to yourself.

Satoru didn't really care. Smiling brightly at the attendants and thanking them for your amazing stay at the inn. 

"Toru I really enjoyed my stay, but it's hard to be happy now knowing that we did it at the expense of our neighbours stay." You whispered, hitting him. "Darling I'm pretty sure they enjoyed the show." He winked at you, shameless as ever.

Suffice to say, you decided not return to said hot springs for a while out of shame.

End notes: 🙈 this fic started because I just thought of Satoru's abs wet with steam and sweat but it evolved during the last edit. Hope you guys enjoyed! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated 💜

All rights reserved to Limitlessgojo.

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo x y/n #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk fic #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #jjk x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk fluff

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 1 |  Living Well is the Best Revenge or Just Trip Her on the Red Carpet

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom is in Vegas to present at a music awards ceremony and what do you know his high profile ex girlfriend is nominated for two awards.  And the press are having a field day.  Molly Bishop is grateful for the awards show because it means extra tips and getting her closer to paying off her student debt.  An offhand comment by Luke coupled with an encounter with his old girlfriend has Tom’s mental wheels turning.  Perhaps he and Molly can solve each other’s problem.  All they have to do is get married.

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

--

Tom dreaded turning his phone back on when the plane landed at McCarran airport. He knew what waited for him on the other side. Tom wondered if his publicist would buy the story he left his phone back at the bar in Heathrow. Probably not, he had tried that earlier in the year and Luke went ballistic until he came clean. He did not want a repeat of the earful he got back then. With a sigh, Tom switched on his mobile and shoved it into the front pocket of his jeans, vibrating as messages and emails came in.

Tom never imagined the relationship would end like this. He thought he was in love. He thought she was in love. But it had all been what were the words she used “escape hatch”. Tom had been a means to an end. And the punishment for his naivete was a news cycle that would not die. And that photo.

He waited until he was in the car on his way to the Bellagio before checking his messages. There were a series of several text messages from Luke.

Call me when you get to your hotel room.

Don’t read the papers.

Don’t talk to any reporters.

Don’t do anything until you talk to me.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose underneath his sunglasses.

“Fuck!” he hissed under his breath.

This meant only one thing. Another story. Maybe more pictures. He shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, she was attending the same awards show. It ventured to guess the papers would play that up. Tom slumped against the car seat for the rest of the ride.

Check in went fine at the VIP check in. One perk of not only being a celebrity, but a presenter at the awards show. The bellhop delivered Tom’s luggage and garment bag. He pulled the outfit for tomorrow and hung it up, just like Illaria told him to. It was only when he flopped onto the sectional couch, Tom called Luke.

“I’ve been waiting for your phone call.” Luke deadpanned. “I started to worry you would pull that ‘I left my phone at the airport bar’ story.”

“I did cross my mind.” Tom let his head hit the back of the sofa. “Do I want to know?”

“Not really.” Luke winced. “They used the photo again.”

“Of course they fucking did!” Tom punched a nearby pillow. “I look like a twat. Luke, I need this to stop.”

Luke sighed. “Until something comes along that is better than this, expect it to hang around for a while. Unless you are planning on getting married in the next two days.”

Tom chuckled darkly. “Not bloody likely.” He sighed again. “Thanks for everything Luke.”

“It’s my job, mate. But you’re welcome.”

After Tom hung up, he stared first at the phone in his hand and then at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how he got here, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to get out. Tom decided instead to wallow in self-pity and eat a ridiculously expensive room service steak.

-

Weekends were always busy when there were special events over at the MGM arena. This weekend was no exception. And while it may not be good for Molly’s back, her bank account greeted every penny with a smile. Vegas may be a cheap place to live, but it still costs money. And her college did not accept IOUs for student loans. She shoved more tips into the jar behind the bar and helped the next person.

“What’ll be?”

“Whatever you have that is strong and on tap.” Tom’s smooth voice cut over the din of slot machines and video poker machines.

“Coming right up.” Molly poured him a beer, and he signed the receipt with his room number before sliding to the end of the bar.

Three hours later, Tom still sat at the end of the bar, nursing the same beer. Most of the crowd dissipated at this point. Celebrities needed their beauty sleep. Or at least most of them.

“Would you like to switch that one out for a cold one?” She leaned over, smiling. “On the house.”

“Sorry.” Tom blinked and glanced around, looking for a clock Molly imagined.

“No clocks.” she commented. “Or windows.”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “Really?”

“The whole point of casinos is to keep people inside. Clocks and windows help people realize how much time has passed.” Molly replaced his beer. “The whole place is set up like a maze.”

Tom took a long draw of the fresh beer. “You seem to know an awful lot about casinos for a bartender.”

“You seem awfully forward for a movie star.” she snapped back. Tom’s eyes met yours. She shrugged her shoulders. “I have a friend who works at Regal Cinema, they let me in for free.”

“I’m having a bad day.” Tom muttered back. “You still didn’t answer the question.” He took another long draw, leaving the glass half empty.

“Oh, so we are adding pushy to your resume. I thought Brits were supposed to be charming. If you must know, I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s in Tourism from Arizona State.”

Tom opened his mouth to comment, but Molly cut him off.

“Funny thing about the tourism industry. You need experience to get a job, but you can’t get experience without having a job. Classic catch-22. Which does not pay my bills. So I bartend until I get hired somewhere.”

Tom felt like a prize idiot moping about his problems. He cleared his throat. “Apologies for my earlier behavior. I have been in a poor mood for the last several weeks and it has made me a terrible companion and customer.”

Molly smiled at him. The first truly friendly face in a while. “It’s fine. And you are entitled to a bad day.” She filled up his glass. “Once or twice. Share your troubles with me. Unless it is about which supermodel you should date next, then I don’t want to hear it.” she joked. Tom’s face fell. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

Tom held up a hand. “Please don’t apologize. I take it you don’t read the magazines.”

“As a matter of course, no I don’t.” Suddenly a lightbulb went off. “Oh…”

Tom twisted his face into an exaggerated expression. “‘Oh’ is right. Usually followed by the words ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’.”

“And is she…”

Tom drained the glass. “Yep. Nominated for two awards.”

“Yikes! Well, if there is anything I can do, I am here all weekend.”

Tom stood up and left several twenty-dollar bills. “I might take you up on that. Thank you again for the conversation… I didn’t catch your name.”

“Molly Bishop”. she said, clearing his glass.

Tom offered his hand, and she shook it. “Tom.”

“I know.” she leaned in, her dark brown hair falling to the sides of her face. “Remember, you’re a movie star.”

Tom laughed. A real belly laugh. So loud that it jolted the old man at the other end of the bar awake. “I needed that. Thank you again. Have a good evening, day, morning.”

“It’s evening. Goodnight, Tom. Sleep well.”

Tom headed back towards the bank of elevators. He glanced over his shoulder to watch Molly wipe down where he had been sitting, shove the twenties into a tip jar, while tucking her hair behind her ears and help an obviously drunk couple. Tom made a mental note to find her again before he flew back and leave an even bigger tip.

-

Tom woke up the next morning and headed down to the gym to run on the treadmill. He would have preferred running outside but wanted to avoid people. After running five miles, he switched the machine off, wiped it and him down and headed upstairs to shower and change for the day. Tom wandered back downstairs in search of Molly, but the bartender on duty, a guy named Seth, mentioned she wouldn’t be back until the evening. Tom thanked him and headed back upstairs.

He was restless until it was time to get ready. After dressing, he took a selfie in the mirror and sent it to Illaria who confirmed he did it right. Now came the waiting game. Tom wanted to time it to avoid having to see her at all. Finally deciding he had wanted long enough, Tom called for the car and headed downstairs. What Tom forgot to account for was his incredible bad luck.

He arrived right after her and was forced to walk the red carpet, watching her out of the corner of his eye, with her arm linked around whatever man, boy, prey she ensnared for the evening. Tom plastered a killer smile on his face and continued to repeat the mantra in his head “Living well is the best revenge” when all he wanted to do is either trip her or return to his hotel room and eat an inordinate amount of chocolate cake.

The rest of the awards show blurred together into moments of white hot rage masked by a cool exterior and numbness. Thank god for the teleprompter or else Tom wondered if he would have made it through his presentation. But he did and thought he made it through the entire event without running into her and then…

“Tom!” her voice called out.

Tom froze and stiffened. What a difference a few weeks can make.

“Darling!” He spun on his heel to face her, smile firmly in place. He leaned forward and kissed her cheeks. “It’s good to see you. You look good.” he lied through his teeth.

“You too. I thought I might miss you. I just wanted to say—”

Tom waved her off. “Water under the bridge.” Another lie. Perhaps he missed his calling as a barrister or even a publicist. “Your date seems nice.”

She smiled. That smile that once melted his heart. “Thanks. He is. Where’s your—”

“Back at the hotel.” He checked his watch. “Which reminds me, I should head back. Big plans for the night.”

She blinked, and stutter stepped back. “Oh. Right.” She composed herself. “Well, it was nice to see you again. I hope we can be friends.” She held her arms open.

Fucking friends! Tom howled inside his mind. What was she playing at? More fodder for her songs? Tom seethed on the inside. He stepped forward to awkwardly hug her, praying there was no one around to snap a photo. Knowing her, though, she probably had someone in the balcony with a zoom lens.

“Of course, love.” He squeezed her a little too tight until she let loose a small yelp of pain. Tom allowed a genuine smile to come across his face. “I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy the after party.” He walked away before she could continue on the conversation.

He waited until he was well out of earshot. “Bitch.”

-

The crowd started waning around 9:30 as the awards show let out. Molly figured most of the attendees would hit the after parties and things would pick up around 1 or 2 a.m. Until then, it would just be the regulars. She turned around to arrange the glasses she just cleaned when a now familiar voice rang out.

“Marry me.” Tom asked, his tie loosened.

“I don’t know you.” Molly teased back. “Now what will you have?”

“You as my wife.” Tom repeated, his palm flattened against the bar.

“Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you drunk?”

Tom shook his head. “Stone cold sober. Hear me out.”

She glanced around, seeing no plausible escape. “I’m listening. But if another customer comes up, I’m walking away.”

“I need something to move the paparazzi off this current news cycle with me.”

Molly smirked. “You ran into the ex. Did she have a new boy toy on her arm?”

“Yes, but that is beside the point.”

“It is entirely the point.”

Tom slammed his hand against the bar, rattling the container of nuts nearby. “Can I continue or are you going to keep interrupting?”

Molly crossed her arms. “Go on.”

“I need something to move the press off this story. You need money. We are the solution to each other’s problems.”

“You may be gorgeous, but if you think I am sleeping with you for money…”

“I never said sex. I said marriage. The last I checked, they could be mutually exclusive.” Tom’s expression softened. “Listen, you are clearly unhappy here. I am unhappy too. If us being together could alleviate a bit of that unhappiness, why wouldn’t we seize the opportunity? We get married. Get the paparazzi off my back. I would pay off your student loans and credit cards. And then after a year of living together, we quietly divorce. No sex. Just a business relationship.”

Molly chewed over what Tom said, while chewing on her bottom lip. He wasn’t wrong, she was unhappy. Vegas was supposed to be a brand new start, but it was more of the same. Dead end job and no career prospects on the horizon.”

“Did you say live together?”

“In London, yes. I have plenty of room. Your own space. You have a passport.”

“Yes.”

Tom’s face broke out in a wide grin. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The blood pounded in his ears and adrenaline coursed through his veins. He looked up at her with his bright blue eyes.

“Will you marry me, Molly Bishop?”

“Yes.” she smiled back.

Tom leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Then let’s get going, because the licensing bureau closes at midnight.”

Molly headed over to the manager, Nick.

“I quit.” she shoved her apron at him.

“What? You can’t quit, Molly. The big rush is coming.”

“You heard the lady.” Tom called. “She quits.”

“And who the hell are you?”

“Her fiancé. Come on, darling.” Tom held out his hand. She lifted up the bar at the entrance and took his hand.

-

The two of you were full of nervous energy the entire cab ride to the licensing bureau, fitting right in with the other couples waiting to get a license. While you waited in line, Tom made some calls to several chapels until he found one open and able to squeeze the two of you in.

“Now all we need is to get you a dress and some rings.”

“Oh!” Molly dug through her purse. “My friend’s kid gave these to me.” She pulled out two plastic rings. “I think these will do in a pinch.”

Tom closed his hand over hers. “I’ll buy us proper rings tomorrow. Now a dress.”

“There’s a mall on the way. I can grab something on the way.” Tom kissed Molly’s forehead.

“You are brilliant.”

“Thank you.”

Within an hour, Molly was wearing a simple white slip dress, Tom still in his suit from the awards show, although he did straighten up the tie. She smiled like a fool, holding onto a fake bouquet and Tom’s wedding ring, complete with a plastic spider in her hand.

Tom slipped on the plastic gem ring when the minister told him to, and she did the same with the spider ring. Tom giggled and so did Molly .

“I now pronounce husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

Tom leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. His lips were warm and soft. It was… nice. Under other circumstances, she imagined Tom would be an excellent kisser.

Tom gazed down at her. “Hello, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

“Hello, Mr. Hiddleston.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston angst #accidently married

[dreamescapeswriting]

Punish Me ~ JJK [M] [Request]

WORD COUNT: 4.9K

GENRE: Smut, it’s just filthy smut, with a litttttllleee dash of fluff at the start and the end!

PAIRING: CEO!Jungkook x Fem!Dom Reader

WARNINGS: Dom!Reader, CEO!Jungkook, Punishment, squirting, creampie, male over stimulation, oral (M and F receiving) I’ve never written Reader as a Fem!dom before so I hope this is okay for you. Breeding kink? Use of toys, slight bondage, edging, aftercare xx

Your hands were linked with Jungkook's across the table, you were surrounded by laughter and people talking loudly over one another but it still felt as though you two were the only ones in the room. The restaurant seemed fuller than usual tonight but that was because it was a weekend instead of a weekday when you would usually come out. Fairylights were covering the ceiling instead of normal restaurant lights and the whole placed looked like something from a Pinterest board it was romantic and aesthetically pleasing at the same time.

"What are you staring at?" You giggled nervously as Jungkook stared into your eyes, something he did a lot when he was thinking about something that was bothering him. Whenever he wanted to get lost in something that wasn't his job he would do this with you, take you somewhere romantic and fancy...Not to mention expensive but that was Jungkook's taste. Being with a millionaire meant you got treated with the millionaire treatment you hated it at first but as you got closer with Jungkook you didn't care what he did as long as he didn't think you were with him just for the money. That was something you made clear when you started dating. You were there for him, not his money or the things that he could buy for you.

"Is work stressing you out again?" Your voice came out smooth and soft as you questioned him, you turned Jungkook's palm facing up and began drawing smaller then drawing larger circles into the palms of his hand while you spoke. It was something that used to calm him down, just the feeling of your skin on his but tonight it didn't look like it was working for him. He seemed to tense up more as soon as you did this which wasn't like him at all and only made you worry something was wrong.

"Yeah just work," He lied to you, he hated lying to you yet he had to keep what he was doing a secret from you, it wasn't anything bad still he had to keep it from you. He'd done everything he could tonight to focus on you tonight however everything was coming into his brain about what could go wrong, all of the what if's running minute by minute through his head.

"You know we could get dessert to go and-" You were cut off when his work phone began to ring, there was one rule that you had between you both. Outside of office hours the phone had to be switched off but maybe he'd just forgotten tonight and it was a genuine mistake. Something you couldn't fault him on since it was something he always remembered to do usually.

"One-second baby, I have to take this." Jungkook flashed an apologetic look at you before leaving to go outside of the restaurant, he was standing in front of the window you were sat at so you just watched him for a couple of moments. Whatever it was that was bothering him seemed to stress him out even more now that he was on the phone to them, his arms were being thrown up in anger and his body language was tense.

You gently placed your hand on the window you tried to give him a smile of encouragement but he wouldn't even glance in your direction. He kept his shoulders tensed up as he yelled down the phone, you couldn't hear him over everyone else talking and a waitress came over to the table when she noticed Jungkook leaving and she wanted to make sure everything was okay,

"Wine?" You glanced up to look at her then your attention went back onto Jungkook who was now hanging up the phone and mumbling to himself,

"No, I think we'll take the bill please." You knew the look on Jungkook's face. It was the look he gave you whenever he had to go into work to do overtime so you knew he was going to have to leave tonight. You could never hate him for this since his job was his life and he loved doing what he did even if you weren't entirely sure what he did for a living. Just that he owned a large company that owned a lot of smaller companies.

"I got the bill, go to work and I'll make my way home." You whispered as Jungkook came rushing over to the table with a panicked look on his face. The thought of leaving you alone on date night was ripping him apart,

"I didn't want to-"

"Jungkook, I understand how busy you are. Go, I love you." You giggled as you tried to reassure him that this was really fine for him to go but he still wasn't sure about it.

"Don't stay up late okay? I might be home later than normal." You nodded at him and he bent down to kiss you, holding you longer than he probably should have for being in public together but he didn't care. Jungkook had always loved expressing how much he loved and adored you no matter who was wrong. He wanted it known that you were his and he was yours.

"I'll see you in the morning," He whispered as he stared into your eyes, paying the waitress and tipping her for being so good that night.

"I'll see you in the morning," You whispered back to him, watching him rush out of the restaurant and in the direction of where he'd parked his car that night.

"Would you like me to call a cab Miss?" The same waitress who had been serving you asked, you turned to face her and shook your head.

"No thank you, I'll walk. The fresh air is always relaxing," She nodded as she began escorting you out of the restaurant, stopping to get your coat from the main entrance. You tipped her again even though there wasn't a need to but she'd been so kind throughout the night you saw no reason not to.

After walking around the city for about an hour you began making your way home, passing by a lot of smaller and local restaurants so you looked through the huge glass windows. Watching as other couples engaged in conversations, spoke to one another and acting like real couples. It made you miss Jungkook even though you'd seen him less than an hour ago. You missed him so much you'd thought you'd seen him in a restaurant you'd just walked past. Doubling back on yourself you stared through the window to see that it was in fact, Jungkook. He was sitting at a small rounded table with a woman in front of him, she was stunningly beautiful. Her hair was long and thick, with a natural wave to it that bounced whenever she would laugh at something Jungkook was saying to her. Her hands were touching his wrists as she spoke to him. She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she acted more dramatic that she needed to be but that was when you noticed it. The girl sitting with him was someone from work, you'd seen her before in all of the group photos but that didn't stop the jealously that was bubbling up inside of you even if Jungkook seemed to be talking professionally she wasn't. She was flirting with him, touching him with every chance that she got so you began making your way home while thinking of all the things you could do to get back at him for this.

When Jungkook finally got home that night it was around 1 am and you were sitting on the sofa waiting for him, you'd turned out all of the lights to make sure that he wouldn't know you were there until the last second. He let out a groan as he stripped himself out of his jacket and went to walk through to the living room when he saw your silhouette on the sofa,

"Baby?" His voice came out shakey as he was a little jumpy after he saw you sitting in the dark, he flicked the switch on to take in your appearance.

"I told you I'd be home late-" He stopped talking when he took in the appearance of you, you were dressed in the lace and mesh babydoll lingerie set he'd gotten you last week. You hadn't had a chance to wear it but seeing him earlier made you want to now. Slowly rising up from the sofa you walked over to him and grabbed him by the silk tie he was wearing,

"Where have you been?" Your voice came out in a demanding manner which made him stumble over his words as he stared at you, you'd never shown this side before and he was loving every second of it.

"I-I was out...I-I told you I had a business thing-" You cut him off by gripping onto the tie tightly and pulled him closer to your face,

"Then who was the black-haired girl?" He smirked as he realised you were jealous of seeing something, something you'd clearly interpreted wrong but he wasn't going to be the one to tell you this just yet.

"The way she touched you, and giggled at you...Was it better than me baby?" You pushed him down roughly onto the sofa and his eyes lit up as he looked at you,

"Punish me then," You smirked at him as you got down onto your knees in front of him, tilting your head to the side as you slowly run your hands up and down his thighs. Your fingers just gracing the bulge in his pants.

"Oh baby, are you sure you want that?" He nodded slowly at you, his eyes never leaving yours for even a second and you smirked at him evilly before slowly unbuckling his belt and holding it in your hands.

"Upstairs. Now." You demanded and he scrambled up from the sofa, rushing in the direction of the staircase without looking back for a second.

"Bunny, strip for me." The cute nickname fell from your lips but tonight it wasn't seen as cute, it was just a pet name that made him grow harder for you as he slowly stripped out of the suit he was wearing. You grabbed the silk tie from the bed and twirled it around in your hands watching as he stood in front of you, cock in his hand as he began to slowly pump himself.

"I didn't say you could touch," He instantly let go and you smirked as it bounced up a little and hit his stomach, watching him you pushed him onto the bed.

"Hands up against the headboard." He did as he was told so you tied his wrists together with his tie before looping his belt through it and tying him up to the bed so he couldn't touch you.

"My punishment? I'm not allowed to touch you...Come on now baby that isn't much of a punishment," He was trying to encourage you into doing more to him, he wanted you to show more of this side he hadn't seen before.

"Oh bunny boy, you're cute if you think that's your only punishment." He watched as you freed yourself from the lingerie you were wearing and stood naked in front of him running your hands over your breasts. Moaning out as you began playing with your nipples the way he would do if he was in charge.

"You looked as though you were enjoying yourself tonight baby but no one can touch you the way I can, can they?" You were kneeling on the bed in front of his cock which was standing to attention, twitching whenever you caught his gaze.

"N-No one can," He stuttered out as you reached up to touch the head of his cock, running your fingers over his slit slowly as you teased him.

"So hard, is all of this for me baby?" He nodded at you again but you didn't want him to nod, you wanted words so you ripped your hands away from his body.

"I want answers baby, you will talk to me using your words." You ordered him and he took in a deep breath,

"Yes, Ma'am." You smirked hearing him call you that, it was something you'd normally kill him for if he did it outside of the bedroom but right now it seemed to build your sense of control over him.

"Good boy." His cock twitched at the nickname and you giggled,

"Oh does my baby like being praised? Do you want me to call you a good boy again?" He panted heavily as you continued your previous actions, stroking the head of his cock as you called him a good boy,

"Y-Yes," You smirked to yourself as he answered you and spat onto your fingers, massaging it into the head of his cock as he let out a strangled moan of pleasure. He was so used to things being fast with you that he'd forgotten what it was like being teased like this.

Taking the head of his cock into your mouth you began to lick slow and small stripes on the slit of his cock, watching in 'awe' of the way his eyes scrunched together and he did his best not to buck up into your mouth.

"Such a dirty boy trying to fuck my throat when you're being punished," You hissed as he finally gave in and bucked against your mouth, you pushed his hips down onto the bed.

"Do I have to tie your ankles down too, baby?" You smirked at him as he shook his head whining out that this wasn't enough, that he wanted to feel you.

"You should have thought about that before this bunny." He hissed as you began massaging the head of his cock in your hand again, never once paying attention to the rest of his shaft as he throbbed beneath you. Whimpering and moaning whenever you spat onto him, giving him some more contact.

"F-Fuck," He groaned as you finally gave him one pump of his full length in your hand, twisting your hand just a little as well as tightening your grip to make him whimper but as soon as his hips bucked you released your hand and moved away from him.

"P-Please Y/n, I-I thought I could hack this but I can't," He panted as he watched you going over to your underwear drawer on the other side of the room. Worry rushed over you as you thought it might be too much for him so you glanced over at him, keeping up the dominating persona you had,

"Colour?" He looked at you weakly and bit his lip,

"Green." You used a basic colour system when he was the one in charge, Green was fine, Orange a warning and Red stop at all costs no matter what.

"Then I don't see the big deal bunny boy," You cooed as you slowly opened the drawer and pulled out a red vibrating egg along with some lube from the drawer walking back over to him. You could see the fear in his eyes but you shook your head at him, you weren't going to go that far tonight especially if he wasn't ready.

"For me baby, for me." You giggled at him and he swallowed the lump that was in his throat as he watched you get back onto the bed and rub your clit.

"Mmm baby you should feel how wet I am for you- Oh wait, you can't." You quipped at him while he watched you, pathetically pulling at the makeshift bondage you'd done with him. You cried out his name as you pushed the small egg into your core, you hadn't even turned it on yet and you were already a moaning mess for him. Jungkook's hips bucked automatically as you held yourself above him, turning on the vibrator as you moaned out his name rubbing your clit as you locked eyes with him.

"Ugh shit," You moaned out as you began clenching around the vibrator which was set to its highest setting, Jungkook grunted as he pulled roughly against the tie and belt. He hated when you pleased yourself right in front of him, it was one of the things you would do just to make him angry with you.

"Fuck f-feels so good!" You moaned out as you left the egg inside of you, taking his cock into your hand and pumping his full shaft this time. He moaned out in pleasure as he finally got some touches from you again,

"You wanna cum baby? You want me to make you cum?" You giggled at him as he nodded his head desperately, watching you as your eyes rolled back whenever the vibrator inside of you made you feel a certain way,

"Oh s-shit," You hissed out as you knew what was coming, you could feel it building up inside of you so you smirked. The ultimate punishment for Jungkook, he loved to feel you gush around him so you pushed the head of his cock against your swallowed clit.

"You like that? You like how wet I am for you?" He nodded at you again, not using his words but you were too lost in the feeling of the vibrations that you didn't care right now.

"I'm so close bunny," You whimpered as your thighs began to shake, straddling right above his cock as you continued to roughly run him over your clit. Moaning and whimpering together as you tried to fight off your first high of the night but it was no use. Something snapped inside of your stomach and you gushed around the small vibrator throwing your head back as your toes curled.

A small puddle dripped onto the sheets and Jungkooks groin as you looked down at him and smirked, he hated it whenever you'd squirt around something that wasn't him. It was a trick he'd found out you could do when you first started sleeping together and it was something he would do every time you had sex, he knew how intense they were and how amazing they made you feel.

"I'm the only one allowed to do that?" He grumbled at you as you began giggling, coming down from your high as you lowered the setting on the vibrator.

"What was that bunny?" You questioned, pushing the tip of his cock at the entrance of your core so he could just feel the small vibrations coming from the small egg inside of you making him whine out as he felt the sudden pleasure coming from it but whimpered as it was ripped away from him.

"Fucking feels so good." You cried out as you continued to rub him onto your clit, picking up the small remote again and turning up the vibrations to the max setting once again as you rolled your hips forward.

"Oh, shit," You breathed out as you pushed yourself flat against Jungkook's chest, running your core up and down his shaft as though you were riding him and he groaned.

"Baby please...I-I wanna touch you," He begged as you continued to moan out in his ear, kissing his jawline as you continued to hold your orgasm back. The feeling was building up in intensity again and you began whimpering into his ear,

"So fucking close again," You cried out, raising yourself from his chest as you continued to use his cock on your clit. Slapping the head against your swollen bud a couple of times until it sent you over the edge only this time it was more intense.

Your legs shook as you came around the egg, sending it shooting out of you as you squirted all over the sheets again and onto Jungkook's cock as you cried out in pleasure. A scream ripping through your throat as you continued to slap the tip of Jungkook's cock against your sensitive clit as you continued whimpering out his name, falling back against the bed.

"Jungkook," You cried out as you panted heavily not wanting to give up on punishing just yet but needing him to be inside of you, you missed the way he stretched you out.

Kneeling above him you giggled as you told him to push himself inside of you,

"Go on baby, you know you want to." You cooed as you stroked him in your hand slowly but every time he bucked his hips you told him off, pinning him down to the bed.

"Using just this," You whispered as you use one finger to trace a prominent vein on his cock, Jungkook felt like he was about to burst from what you were doing to him.

"If you want to be inside of me so badly baby, work for it." You ordered him but he sighed in defeat so you giggled, beginning to pump him in your hands slowly. Spitting onto the head as you picked up your movements, twisting and squeezing occasionally as he threw his head back into the pillows. His face contorting as he felt himself getting closer to his release,

"You gonna cum? I can feel you twitching bunny," You moaned out as you leant down to his cock, placing your tongue on the tip as you began to pump faster.

"Ugh fuck, o-o-oh shit, holy fuck." He grunted as you continued to do the same thing, picking up the pace of your hand as you drolled onto him wanting him to get as close as possible.

"G-Gonna c-cum." He grunted loudly bucking up into your hands, you could feel him twitching in your hand and right as he let out a loud moan of your name you moved away from him. Ruining his orgasm as it faded away from him,

"No! N-No! No!" He whined out trying to buck up into your hand that was no longer there, you smirked as you saw the pain of his orgasm being ripped from him spread across his face.

"What's up baby boy? I'm only edging you. I thought you liked when we edged one another." You placed him back into your hand and continued on with the same motions, this time Jungkook held back his moans in an attempt to cum without letting you know.

"Bunny boy, I can feel you twitching." You cooed out to him as you licked from base to the tip of his cock. Taking the entire length into your mouth as you moaned around him when he hit the back of your throat.

"Shit! Just l-like that," He moaned out as he bucked into your mouth, you let him off this time and began to slowly bob your head up and down until you felt him twitch again that was when you picked up the pace of your bobs and moaned around him. Vibrations crawling through his body as he felt himself getting closer until it was ripped from him yet again, he cried out in anguish as you left him without an orgasm again.

"P-Please Y-Y/n...I can't-" He was cut off when you straddled him again and bent down to kiss him, the tip of his cock just touching your entrance as you made out roughly with him.

"I'm gonna ride you baby, I promise," You whispered to him as you sat back up, he watched your core as you slowly sank down onto his entire length. Watching his cock disappear into you along with the feeling of finally being inside of you and the edging combined sent Jungkook over the edge as he came into you. Sending hot spurts of his cum coating your walls as you moaned out. The feeling of him filling you up with his seed sending you over the edge you hadn't known you'd reached as you came around his length.

"Fuck!" He growled as he felt you clenching around him tightly,

"G-Gotta milk you baby," You whimpered as you tried to stay in the character of being in control and he let out small whimpers as he came down from his high.

Jungkook's forehead was drenched with sweat and you giggled watching the state of him as you began to slowly rise and fall around his length, the mixture of your cum dripping down against the sheets as you rode him slowly.

"Baby- Baby please," He panted as he felt himself getting harder once again, his eyes rolled back as you continued riding him. Taking your breasts into your hands and rubbing them harshly.

"Feel so good, I c-can feel you stretching me out baby." You cried out as you bucked against him, his cock hitting your g-spot as you cried out his name.

"S-Sensitive," Was all Jungkook was able to moan out as you continued to slowly ride him, pulling all the way off so just his tip was aligned with your entrance before sliding slowly back down making him whine and whimper out.

"You're sensitive, baby? Does bunny want me to stop making him feel good?" He shook his head desperately as you looked down at him but you reached behind you to cup his balls in your hand.

"Words." You ordered him as you began playing with them in one hand, reaching down to rub your clit with the other all the while continuing your slow riding.

"N-No, don't stop." He panted as he looked up at you as you rode him faster this time, leaning forward as you pressed your hands against his abs.

"Holy fuck," You whimpered as you felt him twitching inside of you again, he was already so close from the edging and stimulation you were giving him so you stopped riding. Forcing yourself down onto his length as you clenched around him.

"You fucking fill me up so well," You panted to him as you bent down to kiss him, sucking on his tongue as you rose your hips, slamming them back down so he was right against you g-spot,

"I-I can feel you so deep," You moaned into his ear as you began rising and falling again, the feeling of having him pressed so deep taking over the need to punish him as you felt your own orgasm approaching.

"G-Gonna cum all over your c-cock baby, I want you to fill m-me up baby," You panted to him as you looked into his eyes, whimpering as you clenched around him again.

"F-Fill me up," You nodded at him wanting him to understand what you were saying but he was so lost in the pleasure of you clenching he didn't know what to say to you.

"Jungkook fill me up," You forced him to look you in the eyes instead of down at your core and he grunted loudly as he heard what you were saying. The words registering in his mind,

"Fuck a baby into me Jungkook," You cried out as you began picking up the small bounce in your thighs, the burning sensation was being ignored and pushed out as you were too overcome with the pleasure of him stretching you out.

"G-Gonna fucking cum." You whimpered loudly as you reached down to touch yourself once again, rubbing your clit in rough circles as you tried to focus on your bouncing as well as touching yourself.

"C-Cum for me Jungkook, c-cum." You ordered as you clenched around him while forcing yourself up and down, he didn't need to be told twice as he looked into your eyes and moaned out your name loudly. Bucking into you as he finally hit the second high of the night, cumming into you. You continued riding him throughout both of your highs as you screamed out his name. Hands slamming into the headboard as you gripped onto it to steady yourself, Jungkook moaned out.

"C-Can't stop cumming." He whimpered as you pulled off him, to see that, in fact, he hadn't stopped yet. You giggled at him, taking the tip of his cock into your mouth. Sucking softly as your hand pumped him slowly. Swallowing every last drop until he eventually stopped and was left a panting, sweaty mess on the bed.

"You okay?" You questioned as you came over to him from the bathroom, you gave him a bottle of water and grabbed some moisturiser from the bed to help with his wrists. The en-suite bathtub was running, you wanted to make sure you cared for him the same way he would if it was the other way around,

"I would never cheat on you baby," Was what he said in response to you, you glanced up at him and smiled softly.

"I know baby...I-I was just a little jealous." He chuckled at your response and cupped your face in his hands running his thumb along your bottom lip.

"I liked this side of you, princess," You felt your body heat up at the attention he was giving you and you stood back up from the floor wanting nothing more than to get into the bath with him. You were so sore and run down from your own orgasms that you were already feeling sleepy from just standing there.

"Maybe it'll come out again someday," You teased as you pulled him up from the bed and began making your way into the bathroom with him behind you.

Tagline: @lyoongx​ @fluffyjoons​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @rjsmochii​ @bisexualmess007​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @lynnthevirgo​ @moonprincessdiviniation​

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts smut #seokjin #jin #kim seokjin #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #jhope #jung hoseok #hoseok #kim namjoon #namjoon #park jimin #jimin #kim taehyung #taehyung #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine

[luckyblackcloverrr]

The Black Bulls and their bullshit in the modern time: jobs I guess – Part. 3

Finally the last part is done! Thanks for following the short series of my cursed imagination until now. Here's more headcanons that weren't supposed to be headcanons :D. I made them a little longer than the previous parts, and I hope you all enjoy the mess that is Charmy's restaurant!

Magna Swing

works at the counter in Charmy’s restaurant

nobody knows how he got that job when he shows up to work looking like a teen delinquent going through puberty

keeps his sunglasses on even in indoors

had to learn how to use the cashier machine for the first time

accidentally repeated the order with the machine too many times and the total came out to a four-digit number

the customer got a discount in the end

there was one time when the machine malfunctioned and they thought they had to buy a new one

Magna came in and gave the thing a big smack, and it miraculously started to work again

Noelle gave him the title 'God of Fixing Things Through Abuse', shortened to 'FTTA God'

and now everybody at work refers to him with that title

he doesn’t like it because he’d rather be referred to as something cooler, but he lets them call him that anyway

has very short temper, will not hesitate to call out rude customers

someone once made an offhanded comment about Secré who was too busy to care and he went OFF

both Noelle and Secré had to work together to calm him down when he threatened to fight them outside of the restaurant

wanted to help out in the kitchen because he thinks he has a “thing” with fire, and Charmy let him try when working hours were over

proceeded to set the whole kitchen on fire and from then on Charmy forbade him from going into the kitchen ever again

convinced Charmy to buy a TV and put it in the restaurant so that he can watch baseball games when working

but he once switched the channel to a cartoon show and lost the remote

now he’s forever stuck on watching Miraculous Ladybug

Luck Voltia

King of Working Part Time Jobs™

works at every single shop known to date and jumps between each shop from time to time

sometimes he’ll be in the boutique:

running around the whole store to help customers look for their needed items because he didn’t memorise where each section was

and proceeds to mess up the folded clothes and now Henry has to fold them again

sometimes he’ll be in the restaurant:

ordering and serving the customers their food, even though he doesn’t remember which order belongs to which table

and also cleaning the tables when the customers finish eating

but it’s the best thing he can do there because absolutely no one trusts him in working in the kitchen

and sometimes he’ll be in the café:

bringing out coffee and dessert orders during rush hour because the others are too busy taking orders and making them

and when the shop clears up after a while he spends time watching Finral and Grey brew the drinks

the other bulls wonder how he hasn’t been fired from any of his jobs yet

but that’s because he surprisingly does well for the roles he was assigned to (and extremely fast too)

the only time he has messed up was when he ran too fast when serving food and he tripped and it spilled all over the place

and he went “oops! hahaha ;P”

Magna watching from the counter: i’m gonna kill him

stole the TV remote from Magna when he wasn’t looking and brought it to the boutique so he couldn’t switch channels

always competes with Magna on who can earn the most money

and it somehow always ends in a draw because Secré earns the most out of all of them

Secré Swallowtail

waitress at Charmy’s restaurant pt. 1

was dragged into working there, doesn’t even know why she’s doing it in the first place

but she works well, and store would have fallen apart if she wasn’t there

unanimously voted Employee of the Month every month

takes part in everything; including cleaning, serving, making drinks, settling payments, calming down crying children, calming down a hyper Luck

you name it, and she probably does it or has done it before for the sake of the restaurant

unlike Noelle and Magna, she's extremely unbothered

doesn’t matter if there’s someone being rude or causing a ruckus, she shrugs it off like it’s nothing and just moves on

she’s focused on doing her job and her job only

will only take action if she is touched physically or if other customers are visibly bothered

was the person who consoled Magna when he found out the TV remote went missing

but didn’t tell him that he could actually switch the channels without using the remote

death stares everyone to work when they are slacking off

the person who forced everyone into practicing fire drills in case of emergencies

hums the opening of Miraculous Ladybug because she has heard it playing too much from the speakers

and also because Magna screams the words of the song every time the show airs

is secretly thankful for Luck whenever he visits for his part-time shift

because he picked up the mechanisms of the restaurant SUPER FAST, and things run surprisingly much smoother with him around

lets Noelle style her hair whenever they have free time

ends up looking like a chicken because Noelle has no prior experience in hairstyling despite showing interest in it

and also because she used too much hair spray

Noella Silva

waitress at Charmy’s restaurant pt. 2

claims that she is too high class for this job

but next thing you know she’s putting on her customer service voice when ordering and serving food

took awhile to learn how to work in a restaurant

she couldn't hold the food tray and walk at the same time

and she kept serving the dishes to the wrong table

blamed it on the customers for confusing her, and Secré showed up afterwards to apologise for her behaviour

definitely had 'How to become a Waitress 101' lessons with Secré

takes absolutely no shit from anyone

doesn’t matter how much authority they have around the area, she will not hesitate to kick them out if they don’t treat others properly

would probably spill water on a customer and blame it on the customer for being in the way

becomes more diligent whenever Asta brings the children he's babysitting to the restaurant

also keeps tabs on his table just in case anyone starts to hit on him

rich, but doesn't take it for granted

because she doesn't understand the importance of money and how much she actually has

treats everyone to ice cream, especially on hot days

sometimes pays for the restaurant's bills because she insists

Magna always complains about her flexing her wealth

he shuts up when he gets the ice cream though

claims that she has absolutely no interest in cartoons and thinks they are childish

but is the person who sits at an empty table complaining about how dense the characters in Miraculous Ladybug are when it isn't rush hour

accidentally set off the fire alarm once

because she got scared when lighting a match and threw the lit match at Magna

payed for his motorcycle repair as an apology

Charmy Pappitson

owner of the most popular restaurant downtown

customers ask for her autograph and a photo with her sometimes

a very talented chef that everybody appreciates and respects

a cute, smiley person when greeting new customers and always keeps up with regulars

offers the most amazing dishes for a very reasonable price

whenever she has the time, she steps out of the kitchen to chat with the customers about food and check up on the other bulls (just in case)

but when it comes to the kitchen OHOHO

she gets VERY serious about cooking

in dire situations, she’ll stay cooped up in the kitchen and won’t come out until she has made the perfect dish

has several other chefs cooking in there with her, but no one has ever met them before

though the food comes out good so nobody questions it

does not trust any of the black bulls to cook food after Magna set the kitchen on fire

there is a framed photo of her hung up in the restaurant where everyone can see it

whenever she’s serving food, she has to hold back from eating it all

Secre and Noelle are her impulse controllers, if not the food will never make it to the customers’ table

makes desserts as a hobby and gives them to the customers for free sometimes as service

also donates some food to the local church every month, and offers more if she sees Marie

once dropped a freshly baked cupcake and cried about it for 2 hours

forgets to pay the workers sometimes

weekly gatherings with all the Black Bulls happen at Charmy’s restaurant

that time is usually when she tries new recipes and ask for everyone’s opinions

literally a whole party goes down every week at her place

there are noise complaints every time, but she ignores them because Finral is probably already apologizing for them

Parts - 1 | 2 | 3

#black clover #black clover headcanons #magna swing #luck voltia #secre swallowtail #noelle silva #charmy pappitson #i finally finished this omg #not magna getting bullied smh #living for luck being a mess everywhere he goes tho #its 3am rn and i have school tmr im gonna regret this #in the middle of editing all the points shuffled and i had to put them all back in place it was HELL #save finral from the black bulls he's suffered too much

[spencesglasses]

sweet creature (spencer reid x f! reader) pt 5

a/n: to anyone still reading after 2 months of silence... here’s a new chapter. as always, ignore any errors and feedback is always appreciated. enjoy <3

part one | part four

The sun brought its wrath on Y/N’s skin as she lies on the red and white quilt blanket beneath her. She extends her hand to the edge, twisting the grass in between her fingers. Letting her hand linger to the patch of Zinnia flowers. She sits up on her forearms and crosses a leg over the other. Reds, pinks, and yellows bloom in the field, and Y/N stared in awe. A noise from her right causes her to jolt up from her spot, clenching her fists tightly. The wind coos in her ear, leaving the hair at the nape of her neck stand. She slowly brought her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knee, and tries to calm her breath. It’s fine, she’ll be here any minute now, Y/N thought. She released her hold on her legs and let out an exasperated sigh, shifting to the lonely picnic basket that sat at the base of the blanket. She flipped the basket open and let her hand search until she felt the smooth cover of a book. Y/N smiled to herself, bringing it into her lap. She opens the book to find a stray note taped to the back of the cover. Meet me in a field of wildflowers where the sun falls in love with the earth and the moon falls in love with the stars, it read. Her fingers gently trace over the letters as she admired the note, trailing down to the signed “E”.

Y/N closed the book, tossing it to her side, and she felt the corners of her mouth rise when she saw the familiar strands of raven hair. “Hey, you.” Y/N said, holding out her hand for the girl to hold. “You finally made it.”

-

“Hey,” a voice takes her away from the memory. “Are you okay?”

Y/N looked up from the book that was splayed across her lap to meet the owner of the voice and locked eyes with Spencer from across the round table. She nodded softly, the tip of her finger ghosts over the letters of the cover. What was so special about this book? She turned over the cover just as she did years ago, to find the same mysterious note. Her eyes linger on the inscribed “E”, and she huffs in frustration. “Why can’t I remember you?” she mumbled.

“What was that?” JJ asked from beside her.

Y/N closed the book, setting it next to the case file in front of her. She moved her attention to JJ and shook her head. “Nothing.”

JJ and Spencer met eyes, then both looked at the book quizzically. JJ shrugged her shoulders when Spencer tilted his head in wonder. He glanced at Y/N, who was attentively listening to Garcia as she promptly showcased yet another case to solve.

“Last night, this girl, Gina Bryant, flagged down a police car in St. Louis,” Garcia said. “She was wearing nothing but a dirty nightgown, and she was barefoot. And she told them she was kidnapped when she was 8.”

“That girl’s gotta be 19 or 20 years old.” Morgan said.

“18,” Garcia corrected. “And they confirmed her identity. She was a foster kid who disappeared 10 years ago.”

Y/N shuffled through the photos the file contained. “She’s been in captivity this whole time?” she asked, looking up to Garcia, who was nodding her head.

“Long-term hostage. That’s rare. We got another Ariel Castro here?” said Rossi.

“Funny you say that. Not funny ha ha. Funny weird. She told the police that she was held captive with this girl,” she explained. “Sheila Woods, 15 years old, who disappeared from Nashville 7 years ago. Also, she said there was another girl, too, but all she knows about her is that her name is Violet and she was older.”

Y/N brought her eyes to the board of the missing girls from Garcia and bit the inside of her cheek. “You’ve checked the missing children’s database, correct?”

“Affirmative. There’s no Violet anywhere.”

“Did Gina say anything about her captor?” Spencer questioned.

“Just that his name was Tom, and he was an older white dude.”

JJ spoke up. “And where were they being held?”

“This house,” Garcia brought up a photo of the home to the screen. “Gina took the cops there. They brought Sheila to the hospital, very ill with something yet to be determined. Violet nowhere to be found.”

“It’s probably safe to assume that she’s with the unsub.” Hotch said.

Y/N nodded in agreement. “Who owns the house?”

“Oh! That’s where it gets even weirder. This woman, Clara Riggins,” she displayed a photo of the woman. “She’s MIA, but her checking account is active. She pays her bills on time, and if my math is correct, she’s 108 years old.”

“I might be going out on a limb here, but I’m gonna bet she had nothing to do with the kidnapping.”

“The real question is, where’s the unsub and this other girl Violet?” Morgan says.

“That’s what we’re going to find out. Lewis is on a research assignment. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch finalized . He gathered his file and promptly made his way out of the room, leaving the team to follow his lead.

Y/N stood from her seat, gathering her own file and the book that sat by its side. Her feet swiftly brought her to her desk in the bullpen and she opened one of the many draws in search of her go bag. Double checking if she had everything prepared for the trip, she carefully tucked her book between a few belongings, but noticed something peculiar peeking out of it. Y/N furrowed her brows. Never did she notice this. She had found the book a few days ago while searching through her closet for an extra jacket for Garcia. Instead, she found a box labeled with an unfamiliar date. In it, she found the book. It seemed familiar, but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. Y/N didn’t think much about it until she’s noticed the the note. The signed note. Why couldn’t she remember anything? And why can’t she remember who “E” is?

She groaned, slipping the item that was nestled between the pages into her fingers. And to her surprise, it was a photo. A photo of her and… the photo was torn in half. Someone else was in the photo, but who? Perhaps it was this “E” person. Though her memory was hazy, she could recall very little of the note and the book itself. She remembered this girl. That must be E, she thought. But who exactly is she, and why can’t I remember her face?

Y/N’s thoughts were cut short when she felt a hand grasp at her waist. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she quickly spins on her heel to face the person behind her.

“Woah, there!” JJ exclaimed, placing her other hand to Y/N’s waist to steady her. “You alright?”

Y/N visibly relaxed, letting out an exhale. “All good,” She placed her hand atop JJ’s and offered her a small smile. “Just surprised me, that's all.”

JJ quirked up a brow, and her eyes trailed over Y/N’s features. “I’ve been calling out to you… you didn’t hear me?”

Y/N inwardly frowned. “Guess not,”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” JJ brought her hand up to Y/N’s face, cupping her jaw.

Y/N covered JJ’s hand with hers once again. This is what made her feel more at home when joining the team. Before she had joined, she had known about the team. Spencer would mention them every now and then when he would stop by to visit her at the shop. He would tell her various stories about the cases they’ve solved, about the people they’ve, along with stories about each member of the team. And she admired them. They were like a little family and at first, Y/N was scared to intrude. She pat JJ’s hand, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “I’m fine, Jayge,” she took JJ’s hands in her own. “Now, we have people to save, don’t we?”

Y/N released her hold on her hand, grabbing hold of her bag. She looked over the bullpen and noticed Spencer awkwardly standing over his desk with his go bag halfway off his shoulder, and a smile formed. She took a step forward, turning to JJ, and offered her arm for her to take. “Join me.” Y/N said.

JJ linked her arm with hers, letting Y/N lead the way to Spencer’s desk, and his head perked up when he saw her. “Y/N…”

“Hey, you,” she held out her arm just as she did to JJ. “You ready to go?”

To Y/N’s surprise, Spencer grasped her hand in his instead. She glanced over to JJ, and she looked as shocked as she was as her eyes went back and forth between the pair and their locked hands. Y/N’s heart sped up a bit when she felt Spencer squeeze at her hand. She had grown used to the feeling of his hand in hers. Every once in a while, they would grab hold of each other's hands if something in a case hit too close to home. It was a comfort for them, though it was something that went unspoken. But each time, she would feel her heart speed up ever so slightly. She shook her head and gave Spencer’s hand a light squeeze back.

-

Morgan, Rossi, and Y/N walked in silence as they surveyed the basement of the home. Y/N’s eyes wander over the room, noticing various arts and crafts that littered the murky walls and blankets and stuffed animals that sat on the abandoned mattresses. She took a step closer to one mattresses when she saw a deep red peeking out from underneath a blanket. Nudging Rossi with her shoulder, she gestured down to the atrocity. He lifted the blanket with his gloved hand, uncovering a large patch of dried blood. The two glanced up at each other and shook their heads, continuing on after Morgan.

They parted ways to investigate different areas of the house, and Y/N found herself in a bedroom. It was tidy, the bed perfectly made, and not a speck of dust in sight. She opened the draws of the dresser, noting the clothes that were neatly folded. Y/N heard footsteps enter the room, and she looked over her shoulder to see Morgan opening the doors of the closet. Just as she had expected. The closet was just as neat and orderly as the rest of the room.

“Look what I found in the kitchen,” Rossi’s voice broke the silence as stepped into the room. He sat the box he held on the bed and Morgan stood beside him.

“Bondage and torture porn.” he reported.

“Also found another tool box in there, that makes three.”

“Well, you saw that guy's woodwork. He’s obviously good with his hands.”

“He must be a carpenter. Maybe a handyman of some sort, but,” Y/N said, keeping her eyes fixed on the closet. “Look at this.”

She beckoned the two to peer inside the closet. “He must have OCD. The closet, the clothes, even the bed… perfectly organized.”

“He wants total control over every aspect of his life.” Rossi stated.

“Makes sense for a sadist.”

“He’s not gonna like it on the run,” Morgan said. “He’s gonna feel powerless.’

Rossi spoke. “And that’s why he took Violet with him. Sheila Woods was probably too sick to travel.”

“You know, Violet was the oldest and helped with the abductions. She was probably his first victim.”

“Perhaps. Or maybe his daughter?”

“Well, either way, she was important to him.”

“You know. I also wonder, what happened to Clara Riggins?” Rossi asked, rounding the bed.

Morgan answered. “The bedroom down the hall is untouched. Looks like it’s been that way for a while.”

Y/N walked around the bed, to the door frame, and peeked her head to briefly view the rest of the house. “He looked after the house. It’s well cared for. Maybe that’s how he found this place,” she turned on her heel to face the two men. “Elderly woman, no family. She must’ve hired someone to fix things now and then. She thought he was a nice guy, does good work, and they build a relationship,”

“You think he took advantage of Clara Riggins?”

“That’s what it seems like. Though he doesn’t profile as a killer, I think he made a spot in her life and waited until she died.”

“And he made sure that she came to depend on him for survival. Just like his victims.”

-

The three of them hurried to the location the unsub’s vehicle was spotted. Y/N sat in the back seat of the van, fastening the FBI vest over her torso. Morgan and Rossi occupied the driver’s and the passenger’s seat. Police cars trailed behind them as they came to a stop and they hurriedly made their way out of the car. Y/N pulled her gun from her holster that sat at her hip and stealthy surveyed the blue van as Morgan ventured to the driver’s side. “Michael Clark Thompson, FBI!” Morgan’s voice booms when he approaches the man. “Show me your hands! Show me your hands! Now very slowly use your right hand to open the driver’s side door. Slowly.”

Y/N and Rossi stayed outside the back of the van with their guns pointed forward. A small voice of a woman was heard, and Y/N gestured for the surrounding officers to be prepared to open the car doors. “Get out the van nice and slow. Keep your hands where I can see them.” Morgan ordered.

She heard Morgan groan in frustration, along with a figure whizzing past him. “Ah, you gotta be kidding me. This guy!” he quickly took off after him and with that, Y/N signaled the police officers to open the back of the van.

She stepped quickly, looking over the inside of the van, and locked eyes with a girl. With her knees to her chest, she scurried backward in fright, heaving with each breath. Y/N returned her gun to her holster and extended her arm towards her. “It’s okay, It’s alright,” she cooed. “We got you.”

-

“Nothing to hide, my ass. He’s full of it.” Rossi scoffed as Hotch informed the team about Thompson’s defence claims. The team occupied the sitting space of the hospital the girls were admitted to, along with Thompson, who was kept contained in a spare room. According to Hotch, Thompson “saved” the girls from their parents and claimed that he had nothing to hide when it came to Clara Higgins. The entire ordeal made Y/N’s blood boil. The man was a pig, and he deserved to rot for his crimes.

“The preliminary M.E. report does suggest that Clara Riggins died of natural causes.” Spencer said.

“I think he’s telling the truth about that. He didn’t kill her.”

Y/N moved from her spot next to JJ and settled on the empty seat next to Spencer. She snuck a glance his way, noticing the wrinkle in between his brows from them being furrowed. She thought it was cute, not that she would ever tell him that, of course. Y/N scrunched her nose and nudged him, signaling for him to pass her to M.E. reports.

“I’m sorry, guys. I can’t stop thinking about Violet,” says JJ. “She could not wait to get out of here. Like, it was urgent. It’s all she could talk about.”

“Well, she’d been held captive most of her life. All this has to be a tremendous shock.” Rossi said.

“No question about that, but that wasn’t it. It’s like she had somewhere specific in mind and she needed Thompson to go with her.”

“Well, he’s conditioned her to depend on him for everything.” Hotch said curtly.

“Exactly. You condition someone by doing something over and over again. Now, we know he repeatedly abused them. I don’t think she was itching to get out of here to go do that.”

Y/N flipped over the documents absentmindedly and tossed her leg over the other. “Perhaps he did something to reward her somehow,” she starts. “What if she has a child? Where else would she want to go so badly…”

JJ gave her a nod of agreement. “Sheila Woods did have a miscarriage. Maybe Violet brought one to term.”

“We did profile that he might be trying to fill some kind of void since he didn’t have a family.” said Spencer.

“Yeah, but Gina Bryant never mentioned any baby.” Rossi pointed out.”

“Violet could have had the baby before Gina was abducted. Gina wouldn’t even know about it.”

“Well, if we’re right about any of this, that means there’s another kid somewhere out there.”

-

Y/N walked behind Rossi and Hotch as they led Thompson to the room Violet occupied. Passing through the halls of the building, seeing the parents of these girls, made her heart break for them. For Violet’s parents, most of all. They’ve spent so many years mourning the loss, just for this sick man to step in and claim their girl as his own. Y/N clenched her jaw tightly, picking up her steps to meet their destination.

“Daddy,” Violet says with a smile.

“Hi, Vi.” Thompson replied.

The interaction made Y/N’s stomach churn, and she let out a deep exhale. “Have a seat,” she spat.

“No, I want to be close to her.”

“Not part of the deal,”

The man turned to her with a deep frown on his face. “Then give us some privacy.”

“No,” she deadpanned. “Sit.”

Hotch pulled out a chair behind Thompson and he reluctantly claimed his spot. Violet’s eyes darted between the agents and the man, gasping when she noticed his arm sling. “You’re hurt…”

“Don’t worry about that. It’s nothing.”

Violet fiddled with her fingers, trying to settle her breaths. “I’m really sorry?”

“About what?” he asked.

“My sisters,” she answered, afraid to meet his eyes. “I had to tell them. Please don’t be mad. I had to…”

“Now, listen, it’s alright, Vi. Okay? It really is okay.” he said sincerely.

“Did you get the groceries yet?” she asked him.

The question made the agent’s ears perk up.

“No, honey,” Thompson says. “I’ve been here the whole time just like you.”

“But can we go now?” she urged.

“I have some bad news,” he lamented. “We- We can’t go there ever again.”

“What? We have to go today! It’s by the disappearing place, we can be fast.”

“You’re right, Violet, but I can’t. These police,” he said, nodding towards the agents. “They don’t think we should be together. They’re going to break apart our family, just like I told you they would. I just wanted to come and say goodbye before they took me away.”

“No! Wait. When will you be back?!”

“Not for a very long time. I would give you a hug goodbye, but they won’t let me.”

“No! I- Please…” she pleaded, inching closer to the edge of the bed. “Please, can I just hug him?”

Y/N shared a look with Hotch, and he gave her a curt nod. She arched a brow at him, brining her attention back to the pair. “Okay.” she said.

She grimaced and looked away as the two embraced. Y/N felt bad for this girl. All the awful things she had to endure… at the hands of someone who claimed to care for her? This poor girl was so stuck in their ways.

“Oh, Violet, I’m gonna miss you,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m gonna miss you.”

He placed a kiss to her cheek as he pulled away, his hand cupping her face in affection. “My beautiful Violet.”

Y/N’s attention shifted back to them when she heard Violet’s footsteps. She was backing away from him… she must have remembered something. Rossi gestured for JJ to bring in the girl’s parents from outside of the room.

“What is- What is this? Who are these people?!” Thompson demanded when he saw the couple.

“These are her parents,” Y/N said sternly.

“And that gentleman right there is her real daddy.” Rossi continued.

“Huh? She knows who her real daddy is. Daddy is the only one who loves you. Isn’t that right, Violet?”

The girl sat there in a silent war with herself. Her eyes flicker between the couple and Thompson for a moment, her face scrunching up in displeasure. “No… my name… is... Amelia.”

“Amelia…” she repeated. “Amelia. Amelia!” The man’s face paled, and he stiffened in posture before she charged at him. Her fists hit his chest in a fit of rage, and the man was trapped between Amelia and the wall. The agents made haste. Hotch and Rossi were on either side of Thompson, and JJ and Y/N wrapped their arms around Amelia’s waist in efforts to pull her back.

“Get off of me!” he shouted.

But regardless of the agent's restraints, Amelia was feverish in her movements. Y/N couldn’t blame her. He was going to get exactly what he deserved. “My name is Amelia!”

Her and JJ were able to pry her off of him and Hotch and Rossi escorted him out of the room. “There is no deal! You hear me?! There’s no deal!”

Y/N wrapped her arm around Amelia’s shoulders and rubbed languid circles as she tried to steady her breath. “You’re okay… you’re okay,” she soothed.

-

The case came to a close, and the four girls were saved. All was well, with the exception of the situation with Thompson. He was brought to his demise when the mother of Sheila Woods shot him. Y/N thought he deserved it. If she were to be honest, she probably would have done the same if she were in her shoes.

Now, Y/n found herself snuggled on the couch of the jet with the same book from earlier that day in her lap. Though the case took her mind off the note, the lack of familiarity was making her frustrated. Not to mention the memory… her mind was hazy, but she couldn’t let it go. Why was this so important to her?

A new weight at the end of the couch made the cushions dip, and Y/N caught Spencer lazily fumbling with a small blanket. The dark circles under his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by her. She watched as he hopelessly tried to make himself comfortable in the small proximity.

“Spencer…” she finally called out to him.

He turns his gaze to her and hums in response. Y/N turned her body to dangle her legs over the couch, placing the pillow on top of her thighs. She tapped the pillow on her lap as an invitation. “Sleep, Spence,”

Spencer hesitated, his eyes flickering between the pillow and her eyes. “It’s fine,” she says. “Consider it as an apology for making you sleep on the floor.”

Spencer smiles and shuffles to his side, resting his head on the soft pillow. “Of course,”

Y/N mirrored his smile, holding in a snicker. The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment, and Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut. “You still owe me another movie night,” he whispered, not bothering to open his eyes. “You know… as an apology.”

She looked down to her lap and saw the corners of his lips curl upwards. “Why, of course,” Y/N poked his cheek. “But now, you need to rest.”

He nodded, nuzzling further into the pillow. The sound of Spencer’s soft snores reached her ears, and Y/N closed her own eyes. She draped her arm over his form and let her head lull back, allowing herself to be engulfed by sleep.

-

a/n: honestly i never intended to ship y/n and jj, but look at me. shipping y/n and jj.

taglist: @measure-in-pain @ceeellewrites @eevee0722

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader

[bbrandy2002]

Fools Rush In

Part 6

I’m participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt 55: This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course, I’m in.

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x Riley

A/N: Thank you to my amazing bestie @burnsoslow who beta read at 2 am last night. And my prereaders @charlotteg234 and @mom2000aggie

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine, the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. After a drunk night, he finds himself with way more than he bargained.

**MC did not exist in Liam’s social season. OC lives in Las Vegas.

Word Count: 1740

TW: Drug usage mentioned

Permanent Tags: @burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719​ @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @drakesensworld @janezillow  @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @pedudley @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @desireepow-1986 @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @blueaster-blog1 @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @twinkleallnight @annekebbphotography @txemrn @thecordoniandiaries @alyssalauren @cordonianroyalty

Series: @princessleac1 @cordonia-continued @sanchita012 @shz256 @cordonia-gothqueen @narrytheworld @graceful-leah @mom2000aggie @queenwalton @tinkie1973 @muchkoolermk @captain-kingliamsqueen @gabesmommie1130 @cordonianprincess @cinnamonspongecake @loudbluebirdlover @liamandneca @waywardromancefantasygirl @thegreentwin​ @walker7519 

The limo pulled out of the Taco Bell parking lot onto Tropicana Avenue, headed west towards Spring Valley. In the back was one king, a former prince, and a teacher-turned-overnight-queen of a country she'd never heard of 24 hours ago. 

While the trio cruised down the bustling thoroughfare to retrieve some of Riley's belongings, Liam was on the phone with his credit card company. He was trying to figure out why his unlimited card was declined, leaving Riley to foot the bill for Leo's Nacho's Grande Box, a Triplelupa Box with extra lupa, and a Pineapple Freeze. 

Leo gulped as he scooped melted cheese and beef up with a tortilla, trying not to look too guilty. He didn't want his younger brother to know that he and Drake paid for the entire bachelor trip using Liam's card ... among other unusual expenses. However, he breathed a sigh of relief, knowing Drake had it last, and the blame could fall squarely on his shoulders.

Frustrated, Liam hung up the phone after the automated agent couldn't understand his Cordonian accent and continued to reroute his call back to the beginning. No sooner did he put his phone away than he was alerted to an incoming call. Liam glanced down to see his stepmother's name flashing boldly with each ring. There were no doubts in his mind what she wanted. Obviously, the news had reached her at the Palace.

With an anxious feeling growing in his stomach, Liam let out a heavy groan before tapping the screen. 

"Hello, Regina."

"Hello, dear." Her greeting was surprisingly warm and pleasant. "I need to know the truth; are these rumors accurate? Did your brother marry you to some strange woman?"

Liam rubbed a hand nervously across his mouth; he was in no mood for a lecture. "He did. But I don't even remember it happening."

He could hear her disappointed sigh and felt terrible that his actions caused her this much distress. Regina might not be his mother, but she had been an integral part of his life since childhood, and he didn't want to let her down.

"Is your brother with you? If so, I would appreciate speaking with him."

Liam shot a look at Leo, whose hands were covered in melty cheese and sour cream. "Uh, yeah, hang on. Let me put you on speaker." He hit the button and whispered loudly to his brother that it was Regina for him.

A broad grin appeared on Leo's face as he swallowed the last bite of food. "What's up, Mommio?"

"Leonardo Wolfschitz Rys!" Her once-gentle tone was now brittle. "I am highly disappointed in you."

His eyes widened in confusion, the grin he had on before fading instantly. "What? Why? It was Liam's idea."

"Perhaps, but did you try to stop him?"

"No. He's 27 years old," he squealed.

"Be that as it may, you're the older brother. You're supposed to know better."

Liam snorted. "That's true, Leo. You really should start setting a better example for me."

Leo narrowed his eyes, reached across Riley, who jerked back, and punched Liam in the groin, causing him to yelp. "You're such a tattletale; you got me in trouble! She was all I had left."

Liam rolled his eyes then reassured his stepmother he would meet with her when the plane landed back in Cordonia in the morning.

Staying quiet, Riley's wide-eyed stare remained fixed to the front of the limo, hands crossed in her lap. This ... this is my new family.

They made their way to Riley's townhome located within a tree-lined community scattered with homes similar to hers. 

While Riley took the shower she’d been desperate to get since waking that morning, Liam made himself at home just as she asked him to. Leo had met Old Man Burt -- Riley's elderly neighbor -- as they walked up the driveway. He begged the man to let him whittle sticks with him. The senior man thoughtfully looked at him before spitting out chewing tobacco and instructing Leo to score him a dime bag, and it would be a deal.

Leo didn’t know the man from a hole in the wall, but replied, “You know what, Burt? This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course, I’m in.”

Leo knew just the place and took off.

The neighborhood was quiet and serene; as Liam drummed his fingers on the leather sofa's armrest, he could almost envision a life of simplicity like this. He closed his eyes to take in all the sounds and scents not entirely unfamiliar to him but things he imagined most people took for granted:birds chirping in the windowsill, the occasional car that passed by, the screech of bicycle brakes, apple cinnamon air fresheners, and another scent he hadn't smelled in years. Craning his neck around to look out the window, he saw Leo smoking pot with the white-haired man dressed in denim overalls in the front yard. "What the hell? Dumbass."

Riley's shower took longer than he expected; feeling antsy, he rose from the sofa and walked through the home, trying to get a sense of who she was. The house was well maintained with brightly colored artwork on the walls, a nicely stocked bookshelf, shiny hardwood floors, and metal-framed photographs of different sizes assembled atop the fireplace mantle. 

Liam's eyes danced from photo to photo, studying Riley's images in a graduation gown posing with a small grinning brunette about Riley's age, her with two older gentlemen hugging in front of a Christmas tree, and a classroom of smiling kids holding up colorful drawings. 

There was one frame that laid face down.

Thinking perhaps it fell over, he gently lifted the frame to put it back in place. His brows lifted in shock.

"She's married?" 

"I was," Riley answered.

Liam whipped around with the photograph still gripped in hand, not sure what else to say. It wasn't like it was some deep, dark secret hidden from him, something that should upset him. She more than likely would have mentioned it to him at some point, considering they still hadn't had time to get to know each other. But he couldn’t shake the jealousy he felt.

"I'm sorry. I was just looking at your pictures and thought this one had been knocked over." He carefully placed it back on the mantle as Riley approached him.

Liam watched the hurt etch across her delicate features, and eyes that reflected a shattering pain as she stood face to face with her image in a flowy white gown wrapped in the arms of a man she admitted to being married to at one time.

"I … met him in my senior year of high school. We dated all through college. Had this big elaborate dream wedding after graduation. He was my best friend, my lover -- I thought he would be it forever ..." 

Liam gripped her shoulder when she paused to catch a breath, noticing the slight break in her voice. "After two years, he no longer wanted to do anything together. His excuses were always the same: working late, too tired, ‘just want to hang out with the guys tonight.’ He stopped talking to me. Quit looking at me. Stopped touching me. I think I knew in my heart what was going on, but didn't want to believe it. Then one day … I came home from work, and his closet was empty." She let out a humorless laugh. "But at least he left a strongly-worded letter detailing all my faults and where I failed him. It said he found someone better and that I didn't make him happy. He just ... didn't want me anymore." Those last words came out in whimper.

"Riley." Liam wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. "Sweetheart, that wasn't your fault."

Riley stepped back and swiped the tears from her cheeks. "That's why I'm doing this, Liam."

"What d’ya mean?."

"When I met Madeleine, I just knew I couldn't let you marry someone who would make you miserable too. You deserve to find someone who will make you happy."

He smiled at her. "What if that's you, Riley?"

She stood motionless for a moment, thinking about that question, then shook her head and muttered, "I don't make people happy, Liam. In the end ... they always leave me."

When Riley turned to walk away, Liam caught her wrist and drew her back. His hands flew to both sides of her face, cupping along her jaw. Their eyes studied each other; those compassionate blues cast a spell on her teary browns, engulfing the warm air surrounding both of them in want and desire. 

"I can't do this," she rasped weakly and lowered her face away from him.

Liam tilted her chin, his voice desperate and pleading. "Look at me, Riley. You can. You can. You just have to let me in."

Without a second more of hesitation, their lips collided into each other passionately.

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

Drake scowled at the envelope in his hand that bore his name in large letters. "What do you mean, I've been served? I ain't been served shit."

The smaller man prepared to explain, but the intimidating glare in Drake's eyes made him choose his words more carefully. "Mr. Walker. Sir. I'm just the messenger --"

"Then, you can take your message and ..." Drake shoved the envelope toward the man. "This fucking envelope back to where you came from. I don't have a kid or owe anyone child support."

The man backed away and looked at Maxwell to gauge whether he would protect him from his rather large, angry friend. He figured out real quickly the lanky one holding two full bags of medications most definitely wouldn't. He swallowed past the fear that collected in his throat. "Everything you need to know is in the envelope." He nodded to them, both. "Have a good day."

Drake slammed the door open and tossed the room key and his wallet on the kitchen counter. He ripped the envelope open and scanned the documents with Maxwell looking over his shoulder. "I'm being sued for $120,000 in back child support by a woman named ... Boom Boom Powell."

A picture slid from the documents and landed at Maxwell's feet. He bent down to pick it up and rose slowly when he caught a glimpse. "Uh, Drake. This must be a picture of the kids." He held the photograph up of what appeared to be three-year-old identical triplets. "Who do these kids look like?" He knew the answer before he asked.

Drake squinted to get a better look; then realization hit him. He had never been to Las Vegas, but he knew someone who had many times before. And judging by the blonde hair, blue eyes, and mischievous smirks on the three little boys in the picture, he knew his assumption was correct. He tightened his jaw. "That fucker! He is dead."

#fools rush in #the royal romance #liam and riley #king liam #trr liam x mc #liam x mc #liam x oc #trr #trr au fanfic #choices liam x mc #choices fanfiction #choices stories you play #choice trr #choices the royal romance #king Liam x mc #drake walker #prince leo #tw drugs

[masterthespianduchovny]

Honestly, I don't understand what some GA supporters, Gillovny haters and David haters, which I believe are mixed groups, against David and a friendship, albeit at a distance and occasionally with Gillian. At SM, the haters draw him as if he were the same arrogant actor who was portrayed in the 90s, who didn't have a friendly off-screen relationship with Gillian (hello, they are both very introverted and worked 17 hours together. How much could they handle this work overload? (to be continued..)

 Are these followers afraid that GA is getting involved with a "rapist/misogynist", just because his have a relationship with a 27-years-old girl? Why did David write about incest is his last book? Why did he say that he wouldn't like to with Gillian on anything but The X Files? Why was he openly a sex addict? And this arguments being based entirely on facts and gossip from 15/20 /25 years ago?

People draw David as if he were a maniac who can attack Gillian at any time, and that she doesn't know his true nature, so he has a relationship. It's amazing how people make assumptions based on the past things and don't even bother to keep up with what they're doing today. And even worse: they think they can govern your personal lives. I saw it from Gillovnys in the past, and now i see it in these groups.

I read these anons earlier and spent some time thinking about your remarks and the larger implications of certain accusations and DD/GA’s relationship. This response way longer than I intended, but like I said, I spend some time thinking about your comments. And when I say it’s long, I mean it’s long.

Anti’s alleged issues with DD is a combination of things: misogyny, sexism, homophobia, pedophilia, and being friends with an alleged sex trafficker.

David has said some homophobic, misogynistic, and sexist remarks. It’s one of those things that, although a handful of people knew better, his views were “normal” back then. This isn’t to excuse David, but rather, provide context. Because there’s problematic shit and beliefs from 10 and even 5 years ago. The question I ask myself is: has David unpacked these beliefs? Is he learning and growing?

The fact that they have to dig into shit from the 90s to find shit on him says A LOT. Maybe he’s learned to keep those views to himself OR maybe he realized that some of his beliefs were fucked up and left them in the past. I’m not saying that no one can’t be upset about what he said or even dislike him now because of it. However, I don’t think people who genuinely dislike him are sending hate anons to people because they like him.

I really don’t like talking about the pedophilia and him “knowing” he’s friends with a sex trafficker accusations because, even when accusations are proven to be false, someone will believe there's truth to them. It taints a person and that's generally speaking. The reason I’m addressing them now and with you is because I want to be transparent about what’s going on with Antis and my issues with them. I don’t want to be accused of bias or protecting DD because I’m “hiding” the truth.

This man in Hollywood accused David of being sexually inappropriate with a minor who later became his wife. Apparently, this happened in David’s trailer during the original run of the X-Files and was well known on set. This revelation occurred during the Me Too era, like when accusations were hot and took just about everyone accused of impropriety down. For reference, Harvey Weinstein, a powerful producer with more money and influence, was taken down. Louis CK, well respected before his victims came out. Pre Me Too: Bill Cosby. Aziz Ansari. Hell, even some of the faces of the movement were taken down.

So, this Hollywood dude claimed on twitter that David was touching on a minor while at work and EVERYONE on set knew, but somehow this story never caught on. Virtually no media outlets picked this up. And this accusation is worse than the Aziz accusation and he was torn to shreds as his career took a hit. But David can be accused of this horrendous thing and no one reacts to it??? Apparently, he must have better lawyers than Harvey, Louis, etc because the rumors never even took flight. AND, I believe the thread is still up too. Not even crazed right wingers or pizza gate fanatics were interested in this story. However, since David is involved with a significantly younger woman this means that that rumor is true. 

The thing is: there’s implications to this accusation that the antis didn’t think of and they got mad at me and others about it.

They said that Gillian hated David, didn't talk to him, and ignored him as much as she could because she knew about all of this. So, I asked, “If she knew David was a predator, why did she keep working with him? If you argue it was due to contract reasons, why did she work with him on IWTB and Seasons 10 and 11? Why didn’t she report him?”

Me and others were accused of holding women accountable for mens’ actions. But that still doesn’t answer the question, right? If Gillian hated David because he’s a predator, why did she still work with him? Her “hate” was supposed to be “proof” that he was morally corrupt. Since Gillian “hated” David, we’re supposed to hate David.

Another layer: David’s friends with a guy who allegedly is a sex trafficker, which to Antis mean that David knows and is okay with this. They’re friends, how could he not know???

This is important to note because they switch between Gillian knowing David is a “predator” and not knowing depending on the argument. So, when they swore up and down that she hated him, Gillian “knew.” Now that Gillian and David confirmed they are friends in some capacity, “just because she’s friends with him doesn’t mean she knows everything about him.”

Interesting, right?

They used examples of Harvey Weinstein and Ted Bundy to prove how someone can hide despicable acts after swearing up and down Gillian KNEW, which is why they weren’t friends. And, if you’re thinking...well what about David’s friend who allegedly is a sex trafficker, wouldn’t the same logic apply to him?

BINGO.

There are a million excuses and justifications when you apply their logic to Gillian, but they never give David the benefit of the doubt. They never critically examine any information they’re given if it paints David in a bad light. Then they put their heads in the sand if this info implicates Gillian. And the sad part is that I can go on a longer rant tearing their accusations apart.

There isn’t any consistency from Antis. I’d respect them if they’d dropped Gillian because she’s friends with the “predator” they hate. But no, their stance and justification changes so she's always in a good light.

You see how low they're willing to stoop to justify their hate. They aren’t content with disliking David, they need others to hate him too. They're too invested to admit they were wrong because then they’d have to face how foolish they looked hating David on the behalf of Gillian who doesn’t hate him at all. All that energy and hate for nothing.

Lastly, I genuinely do believe Antis are afraid that David and Gillian may be fucking or, at least, that casual fans will come to that conclusion. Think about it: who reacts like this to two people, who many thought hated each other, essentially announcing they are friends?

Who?

These are two adults with (an) adult kid(s). And they could literally become grandparents at any time. lol. These are two people who have known each other for damn near 30 years and Antis think they know David and Gillian better than they know each other.

But a simple photo got them rattled because they HAVE TO admit Gillian’s friends with David. She inadvertently put them in a corner and the only way out of it is to admit something they mocked others for believing. Their other options would fall into Gillovny thinking: they're fucking or dating.

And that’s what they’re really upset about.

They were left with options that fell into Gillovny thinking and had to choose the lesser of the evils. And they can’t say David and Gillian aren’t friends without looking delusional. Especially when they don’t have their handy dandy convenient excuses of “promo” for the x files or a charity. lol. Especially when they took a personal photo together and posted it online.

And I guess that’s the beauty of the picture: you’re only left with three options. Because, if you take friendship off the table, there is no other way to explain why David was there that doesn’t suggest them being intimately acquainted with each other.

I’ll say this: Antis don’t care about facts if the facts can’t be used as ammunition to shit on someone even if they have to distort it.

Now I know this is long and I’ve discussed things you didn’t intend, but I guess I needed this rant. LOL. Some Gillovnies and David fans may be upset that I discussed those topics, but most of the people on my blog either already heard about this OR have read me discuss it before.

Either way, Antis are hypocrites and shouldn’t be taken seriously.

#anon mail

[justasparkwritings]

Codename Cupid: Chapter 16

Previous: How Cricket Got Her Name 

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X Reader/OFC/You

Genre: Secret AgentAU, AgentAU, Government Agent AU

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 3.04K

Warnings: Swearing 

Summary: Our lovely P.I. goes on the search for Min Yoongi, and stumbles into the identity of the mystery man with Taehyung. 

(this is... rough? did not expect it to be so long...) 

Missing Min Yoongi

Present Day

           My sister always tells me she’s given me all she can, that she can’t help me past my one favor a year. It’s a ploy, a deception, a boldfaced lie she tells at work or anytime we’re in earshot of anyone else. Does she misuse her government clearance? Yes. Does she defy laws and challenge the ethical code? Yes. Has she ever gotten caught? No. You’d think the government would put more tabs on her, considering her sister is a registered and licensed PI, but no, no one seems to bat an eye.

           Min Yoongi, Park Yoongi, Yoongi, is nonexistent. I barely understand what he did at Lee Enterprises, let alone how he ended up bedding Euna. He supposedly comes from no money, no name to build off of, nothing. His grades were fine, his college experience came and went with nary a note of youthful rebellion. Now, now that he’s no longer at Enterprises, I cannot fucking find him. Nothing on the web, nothing in the statewide system, nothing in the national system. No death certificates, no marriage licenses, nothing.

           All I’ve got are his charges, well, Euna’s charges against him.

           Cheating in the 1st degree, no proof, no photos or receipts or basic evidence of his behavior. She had nothing but her recollection of the fight they had, and minimal information on what led to the break up. From her manifesto, it seems that Yoongi was pulling away and she clung to him, claws drawing blood, trying to get him to stay. He didn’t, clearly. With only that to go off of, it’s no wonder I can’t find Min Yoongi, and I’m beginning to think that just maybe, Min Yoongi doesn’t exist. He’s her Snuffleupagus, and I’m starting to not believe.

           While I’m unsure if Yoongi exists, I do know a person who does.

           The man with Taehyung.

           Spectacled and broad shouldered, quaffed hair and arms the size of tree trunks, this man exists. He goes to the gym regularly, religiously, makes his coffee at home, and frequents his local nursery. The man is obsessed with plants, it seems unhealthy. Multiple days a week he’s carrying one, or more, I have photos of him watering them, speaking to them… He tends to them with such care, such love, it’s mesmerizing. He goes to work, some corporation, and once a week meets Taehyung. They’re clearly pals, best friends, brothers. They laugh and eat and enjoy one another. It’s cute, their friendship date. Once in a while, Jimin joins them. The three laugh uproariously and often draw attention for their volume. The unidentified man doesn’t seem to understand how loud he is, his baritone resonating enough for me to hear.

           I haven’t intentionally bumped into the three of them, yet, but I’ve stationed myself near enough to hear bits and pieces of their conversations. They never discuss work, only music they’re listening to, books they’re reading, podcasts, plants, general culture. Have I written down a few of the artists and podcasts they listen to? Yes. Do I feel dirty about it? Yes.

           But it’s the job, and I tail them for a month before a package arrives. A package with my name on it, waiting outside my apartment door. It’s not addressed, no stamps or packing label. It’s new, not reused as a shipping box or gifted for the umpteenth time, no dingy tape sticking to its brown coating. The box is sitting, like it’s appeared out of thin air. A secure building is only as secure as the tenants make it, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the owner snuck in behind some dummy who didn’t see the harm in letting a potential rapist, stalker, murder, into the building. Taking the package inside, and as my blood continues to cool and chills run down my spine, I delicately open it.

           I know, it could be a bomb. However, the only thought calming me down is the knowledge that my life has never once been a Shonda Rhimes production and thus, I’m not really worried this package is a bomb. Frankly, that’s far more sophisticated than any of the people I’ve worked for and gives them too much credit.

           Inside, there are copious amounts of surveillance photos and a note, written in a script that I’ve seen before.

           “That was your last warning / The line has been drawn and you’re bleeding / Next time, face to face is how we’ll be meeting”  

           Whoever heard of a stalker rhyming?

           I bag the evidence to toss under my bed so Jungkook won’t find it and pull out my list of potential threats.

Check It Once, Check It Twice

William Daniels

Cheated on his wife of 5 years with a stewardess who flew almost exclusively on his flights (big shock)

Threatened to ban me from American Airlines -  Jokes on him, I don’t fly American

Photos in the act & audio recordings

Wife divorced him immediately

He has to pay alimony out the nose

Lives in the area

Allanah McMahon

Arrested and tried for insider trading and embezzlement

Discovered who I was when I was subpoenaed to testify

Still in jail

My testimony added a few years to her sentence … oops

Cassie Harrington

Set up a Multi-Level Marketing scheme

Tried to hide out in Hawaii – but changed her Instagram to private after I’d already followed her

Ordered to pay back all the money she stole

On parole

Adam Gregory

Tried to run an illegal adoption agency for homosexual, non binary couples

Paid a fine and on parole – forbidden from creating any LLC’s or Incorporating

Brian Welch

Pissed that I found evidence of his partner cheating but turned him in on charges of possession of child pornography

In jail for kiddy porn and for threatening my life

His husband got everything despite the infidelity

           You acquire quite detailed list of people who want to threaten your life on the daily, but then again, wasn’t it Audre Lorde who said “I’m deliberate and afraid of nothing?” I can’t be afraid. If I’m afraid, they have the power. They have the power to intimidate me, to run my life for me, to make my decisions. I will not back down because they got caught. But I will protect myself, I will keep my license for my gun up and go to the shooting range often. I will strengthen the locks and security of my apartment, and I will ask Jungkook to stay over more, or sleep at his.

           I will not back down, not when Lee Euna has paid me what seems like the cost of tuition at Princeton for a year and wants answers. We signed a contract, didn’t we?

           And who am I if my word is no longer worth anything?

           Instead of harping on the sickening feeling that I’m being watched 24/7, I run through my plans for bumping into Taehyung and his friends. In the weeks that I’ve continued to follow him, he’s solidified Wednesday’s as his night for dinner with friends, and Thursdays as his cultural exploration. He goes to museum openings, concerts, movies, plays, clubs, all on Thursdays. While those nights are fun for me to watch and put on my expense account, it’s Wednesdays that I adore. I love following him from his house to the restaurants and am excited each week to see what he and his friends have chosen.

          This week, it’s an authentic Mexican restaurant. Slipping my coat on, I give them a few minutes before following in.

           The sound of mariachi welcomes me into the yellow painted restaurant. The furniture, dark mahogany against the vibrant walls, is full of people. I note the variety of sombreros, the different colors and patterns, the meanings hidden within the stitchwork. It’s not a large restaurant, but big enough to fit a few large groups of 7-10 people, and plenty of space for smaller groups such as the three men. The hostess asks if I want to sit at the bar, and I request a table near the men. Sitting a few feet away, I’m able to pick up their conversation easily. Instead of jotting it down, I hit record and let the metaphorical tape play.

           “Oh, it wasn’t that bad!” The mystery man says.

           “It was awful, Taehyungie couldn’t stop laughing, every time he hit the ball it went flying in the wrong direction,” Jimin says.

           “I was trying so hard!” Taehyung laughed.

           “That’s the problem, you were trying too hard,” The man tells him. “You’re too pure of heart.”

           “I am not,” Taehyung shook his head.

           “I know, you’ve experienced a lot, Tae,” Jimin says.

           “Joon, here’s the question,” Taehyung says, and I’m momentarily distracted by the utterance of the name, Joon. “You get to pick next week, we heading back to that barbeque place?”

           Jimin erupts in another fit of laughter, Taehyung following suit. It’s cute, watching them interact. I wonder if Jungkook has friends he does things like this with… those nights we aren’t together, if he has friends to spend his time with.

           I wait until they’ve left to take a glance at the signed bill on their table, Taehyung Kim is scribbled, no evidence of the other men, and I’m about to bag evidence when I hear my name.

           “Y/N?” Taehyung asks.

           “Taehyung! That was you!” I smile.

           “Have you been here the whole time?” Taehyung’s eyebrows express more than anyone’s I’ve ever seen.

           “I, yeah. I wasn’t sure it was you and Jimin. I didn’t want to interrupt,” I tell him.

           “Oh, you could’ve! Don’t worry about them, we’ve been friends a long time,” Taehyung smiles, it’s boxy and wide, the edges curling as his eyes soften.

           I’ve already started my dance, a waltz to an even tempo and I’ve got the next five paces planned. “Who was that new guy?”

           “Why, you single?” Taehyung smirks, his lips no longer joyful but devious.

           “I just was curious,” I reply, “And no, I’m not single, remember?”

           “Oh yes, yes, Jungkook,” Taehyung recalls with a nod.

           “You, Jimin and that other guy, go way back?” I lead him, it’s easy to lead Taehyung, he’s pure of heart, the most honest intentions in his eyes.

           “Mm, yes,” He continues smiling at me.

           “Your dinner looked fun, I’ll definitely be coming back to this place,” I tell him. It’s true, maybe I will bring Jungkook by one night when I know these three men won’t be around.

           “Yeah, we like it. We try a new restaurant every week. It’s a fun no work zone,” His arms are relaxed at his sides, one hand slipping slowly into his pocket, his cardigan open and glasses pressed close to his ebony eyes.

           “I like that, no work zone,” I agree, I wish I had one of those.

           “Yes, it helps clear the mind,” Taehyung tells me.

           “Do the three of you work together?” I inquire.

           “Kind of, we have a lot of the same shared interests,” he sidesteps.

           I nod, the final step in our dance presenting itself. “Very cool, well I don’t want to keep you from Jimin and –

           “Joon, yeah, very considerate of you. Maybe I’ll see you at the dog park again?” He asks.

           “Oh god, I hope not, Maisie is a nightmare,” I laugh.

           “Well have a good night, Y/N, take care!” He says as he walks out the door. I stand, watching, pretending to not notice how he gets in the car swiftly, not looking back.

           Joon.

           Joon.

           Joon.

           What kind of a name is Joon? If Taehyung and Jimin, and Jungkook, and Seokjin… and Yoongi, are all Korean, must Joon be short for something Korean?

           Glancing at my phone, it’s only 8:30PM, if I hurry, I can get in another few hours of work before I’m overcome with exhaustion and anxiety. But what will I find?

Oh Joon

Kim Joon

Lee Joon

Joon-Ho

Joon-Hee

Joon-Hyuk

Joon-Ki

Joon-Tae

Joon-Young

Byung-Joon

Ha-Joon

Hee-Joon

Hyung-Joon

Jae-Joon

Kyung-Joon

Jae-Joon

Kyung-Joon

Yong-Joon

Nam-Joon

Joon-Su

Ye-Joon

           Not to mention add in the top 5 Korean last names, and I’ve got hundreds of possibilities. Luckily, I can run the name against the address of the apartment building Taehyung picked Joon up from. Being a PI means I have access to the state databases, which gives me names and addresses. In the building, there’s one Joon, a Namjoon, Kim Namjoon. I pull the information before digging into my search.

           Unlike the seemingly nonexistence of Min Yoongi, Kim Namjoon is present. Every search result yields a perfectly manicured article dating anywhere from the year of his birth to age sixteen, and then, much like everyone else on this case, the trail begins to run cold. Whatever happened to him during high school, still radiates through his file. Whether he’s shaken it or not, that’s the question.

           No known career or job at all, his status as a prodigy in math, linguistics and rhetoric is astonishing. One of the highest IQ’s of recent memory, he’d mastered calculus by the time he was 8, besting PhD’s by 13, and then in a blaze of glory, disappearing by 16. He was studied, written about, documented, photographed, and somehow managed to be nominated for a Nobel Prize… how he accomplished all of that during puberty is beyond me. Not only does he accomplish that, but then, disappears completely, without a trace. How?

I’m ready to pack it in when someone steps into my office.

           “I saw the light on,” She says.

           “Ms. Lee, what do I owe this surprise visit?” I ask. This is the exact opposite of what I wanted to do tonight.

           “I wanted to, to talk to you,” She takes a few steps forward, pausing to ask for unspoken permission.

           “Please, sit. What did you want to talk to me about?” I lean back, hoping she can’t see the bags forming under my eyes or the tears from the yawn I’m stifling.

           “I wanted to tell you about, about why I need you to find Min Yoongi,” Euna informs me. She’s dressed in what can only be described as winter white, and only as a cashmere sweatsuit. Never have I ever seen such glamor in my dingy office. I feel bad that she’s risking the integrity of her outfit by being here.

           “Oh, okay,” I sit up and reach for a notebook. “Do you want me to write this down?”

           “No, you don’t need to. We can just talk between women, between friends,” Euna’s voice is soft. The slack in her jaw, the demur manner in which her hands are placed on her lap, it’s evident she doesn’t know how to be girlfriends. Raised by her family, groomed to take over, friends was never a word in her vocabulary.

           “I wanted you to know that I really saw a future with Yoongi,” She starts. “You know that place in your heart where you hold all your hopes?”

           “Yes,” I say hesitantly.

           Her eyes narrow in warning, “Do you have someone, someone who’s beginning to fill that space?”

           “Um, yeah,” I reply.

           “I thought that’s what Yoongi was. I thought we were, we were building something. Jun-Seo had Jimin, they thought they were building an illustrious future together, but one day he disappeared too.” She pinches the slight bridge of her nose, inhaling slowly to steady her nerves. “I don’t know what changed in our relationship. Yoongi didn’t want me anymore, he didn’t want to be around me, or with me at all. A switch flipped, like one day he realized he didn’t love me in the first place. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know why, but when your entire future is destroyed, do you stand back and watch it burn?”

           “Do you want me to answer that?” I ask.

           “Sure, what I did after that was terrible, but it was within reason. Everything I did was within reason. I tried to hold onto him, I did what I thought was right to get him to stay and he just, ran. Bolted, broke up with me on the phone like I’m Taylor Swift in 2012. Maybe I am,” Euna rolls her eyes, the comparison both too true and too terrifying. “At least Seokjin had the kindness to break up with me in person. But Yoongi? The coward! He knew I loved him. He knew I would carry his child, would marry him, would love him eternally and then some. I would’ve done anything for him. Even after he refused to go family dinners or go on trips with Seo and Jimin, after he started lying and cheating and stealing. He broke my heart, shattered it. If anyone is to blame for what happened after our relationship, it’s him.”

           Interested peaked, I inquire “What happened?”

           “It’s in my document,” She snaps.

           “The handwritten one?” I clarify.

           Rolling her delicate ebony irises, “Yes, of course.”

           “The abortion, the embezzlement, insider trading?” I try to rattle off the accusations she’d detailed. Somewhere I had a list and had sorted them by man, but damn, there were a lot of them.

           “Yes,” She snips.

           “That’s all true?” I ask again. The look she gives me is unwarranted, this is the first time in months, nearly a year, that she has sat down with me and discussed the charges. I am well within my right as her Private Investigator to ask clarifying questions.

           “Do you make a conscious decision to not believe your clients? Am I not paying you enough Y/N?” Euna snaps.

           “I’m sorry,” I respond.

           “I should go, I expect next week at our meeting you will have an update on the mystery man,” She stands.

           “Yes, yes, I will,”

           “Good, oh, there was a note under your door. I didn’t pick it up,” She turns and walks, stepping gingerly over the note. Scrambling behind her, I pick up the folded paper, and scrawled in crystal clear letters it reads:

           Cricket, was driving past when I saw the light on. Why are you working? Come to mine when you’re done, it’s been three restless nights without you.

          XO – Bunny 

           Fuck me, I love him.

Next: Cricket & Bunny Pt. 1 

#BTS #Jeon Jungkook fanfic #Jeon Jungkook x you #Jeon Jungkook x reader #codename #code name #code name cupid #codename cupid #BTS fluff #min yoongi #park jimin #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #secret agent au #government agent au #secret agent au #BTS agent #houseofddaeng #thebtswritersclub #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #bangtanarmynet

[natromanxoff]

Queen live at Colston Hall in Bristol, UK - November 18, 1975

x

The photos could be from either night.

This article from the November 29 issue of Sounds chronicles the second night in Bristol.

Queen triumphant

QUEEN ARE the type of group that make a man want to abandon rock writing. They pose questions and never provide answers. They exist in their own space-time continuum, visible and audible but keeping their secrets to themselves.

On the surface they couldn't be a nicer bunch of people, but they carry English reticence to an epitome. It isn't, as Geoff Barton said two weeks ago, that they're boring, it's just that they're reserved. Or in writer parlance, they don't automatically provide colourful copy. All my instincts as a writer tell me that there is a great story in that band, but after two nights with them I'm hardly any the wiser.

Skin tight

That their insularity has a lot to do with them being one of the most amazing heavy-metal and/or rock bands in Britain - with all the signs that they'll end up monsters on the order of Zep - is fairly obvious, but just how much bearing it has on the matter is hard to say. The enigmas they might pose mightn't even have answers.

Is there any logical reason why they present an image and persona straight out of the Beatles school of interlocking chemistry?

John is reserved, almost nonchalant on stage, as if it's all in a small, personal joke. When asked how he saw himself within the framework of the band he replied, with a small smile, "I'm the bassist".

Roger is his opposite, the cheeky sidekick in a Clint Eastwood movie, and attracting a lot of cheesecake attention in America and Japan.

Freddie is an original - one of the most dynamic singers to tread the boards in quite a few years. His attraction is obvious.

Brian is perhaps the biggest enigma of all. What is this seemingly frail, gaunt astronomer doing on that stage, striding purposefully and blasting diamond-hard rock? They're all equally strong personalities - like the Beatles there's no one major focal point. Ask four fans who their dream Queen is and you'll get four different answers.

Queen have been busy lads these past few months. Having disassociated themselves from their former management and joined with John Reid, the fourth album was seen to. Reid decided that a tight schedule wouldn't cause them undue harm, and figured on two months to record before embarking on this current tour.

Only Queen are driven to better each previous album - which at this stage of the game is obviously producing some excellent results - and 'A Night At The Opera' turned into a saga - culminating in 36-hour mixing sessions in an effort to allow at least a few days for rehearsal. In the end they managed three and a half days at Elstree with four hours off to videotape the promotional film for 'Bohemian Rhapsody'.

Their first few dates had not been without errors and the quartet were still not feeling totally comfortable their second night in Bristol, fourth night of the tour. You'd never know it, though.

Like all other aspects of the group, the stage is sophisticated. A black scrim provides a backdrop bounded by a proscenium of lights both front and rear. At each side the p.a. rises like a mutant marriage of Mammon and Robby the Robot. Amp power is readily evident but the most extraordinary is Brian May's subtle set up: nine Vox boxes stepping back in rows of three. The only packing crate visible is holding a tray of drinks, and you may rest assured that no roadie will rush, crawl or lurk across the stage while the show is in progress unless it's to rescue Freddie's mike from the clawing crowd.

As the auditorium darkens the sound of an orchestra tuning up is heard over the p.a. The conductor taps his baton on the music stand and a slightly effete voice welcomes the audience to A Night At The Opera. The Gilbert & Sullivan portion of 'Bohemian Rhapsody' follows, a brief glimpse of Freddie is allowed, and then in a blast of flares and white smoke the blitzkrieg begins.

Roger is barely visible behind his kit, just his eyes and tousled locks. John is wearing a white suit and playing the-man-who-must-stand-still-or-it-will-all-blow-away. Brian is slightly medieval in his green and white Zandra Rhodes top, while Freddie is...

Around his ankles his satin white pants flare like wings - fleet footed Hermes. Everything north of the knee is skin tight - tighter than skin tight - with a zip-up front open to AA rating. But further south, definitely in X territory, lurks a bulge not unlike the Sunday Telegraph.

There have been sex objects and sex bombs, superstar potency and the arrogant presentation of this all-important area, but never has a man's weaponry been so flagrantly showcased. Fred could jump up on the drum stand and shake his cute arse, leap about and perform all manner of amazing acrobatics, but there it was, this rope in repose, barely leashed tumescence, the Queen's sceptre. Oh to be that hot costume, writhing across the mighty Fred!

Phallic

Freddie is not pretty in the conventional sense of the word; like Mick Jagger of '64, he is his own convention. Also like the Jagger of the time, his stage persona and action is unlike anything else. Although it borrows - like most of the group's plagiarisms - slightly from Zeppelin, in tandem with Freddie's supreme assurance and belief in himself - he always refers to himself as a star - it explodes into something that is a constant delight to watch.

He reacts to his audience almost like an over-emotional actress - Gloria Swanson, say, or perhaps Holly Woodlawn playing Bette Davis. At the climax of the second night in Bristol he paused at the top of the drum stand, looked back over the crowd and with complete, heartfelt emotion placed his delicate fingers to lips and blew a kiss. Any person who can consume themselves so completely in such a clichéd showbiz contrivance deserves to be called a star.

Freddie's real talent, though, is with his mike stand. No Rod Stewart mike stand callisthenics here, just a shortee stick that doubles as a cock, machine gun, ambiguous phallic symbol, and for a fleeting moment an imaginary guitar. He has a neat trick of standing quite still in particularly frantic moments and holding the stand vertically from his crotch up, draw a fragile finger along its length, ever closer to the taunting eyes that survey his audience.

Their show contains lots of bombs and smoke, lots of lights, lots of noise. They fulfil the function of supremely good heavy metal - i.e. you don't get a second to think about what's going on. When they do let up for a few minutes, it's only so you can focus in on the bright blue electric charge crackling between your ears.

Bulldozer

Dominating the sound is Roger's drumming, a bulldozer echo that bounces like an elastic membrane, meshing with your solar plexus so that your body pulses in synch with the thunder. Tuned into that, everything else is just supremely nice icing.

For three days rehearsal, after eight months off the road Bristol was extremely impressive. In speculative mood I quizzed people on how long they thought it would take to headline Madison Square Garden. I was thought a radical at a year and a half. John Reid smilingly assured me it would take a year.

That Queen should end up with John Reid is an entirely logical proceeding. Everything about Queen demands that the world eventually kowtows at their feet in complete acquiescence - so big that bodyguards have to accompany them at every step. Well, no - they found that an annoyance in Japan, but, you know, huge.

Such status demands a Reid or a Peter Grant, and whatever the causes for their leaving Jack Nelson and Trident, an elegant group like Queen is going to look for a man with class. Reid found the idea of managing a group interesting, and having to deal with four strong personalities a challenge. He only concerns himself with their business and ensuring that the year ahead is mapped out. In January they begin a jaunt through the Orient, Australia and America, by which time it's March and they begin preparations for the next album.

Reid's prediction of a year was proven highly credible the next evening in Cardiff. The band had still not paused from the rush up to the tour and spent most of the day relaxing and sleeping - no doubt a factor in their near recumbent profile. Also, unlike most groups, they were keeping their dissatisfaction with the show to themselves.

They stopped off at Harlech TV on the way to see a cassette of the video for 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. The general consensus was quite good for four hours, with much laughter during the operetta. Brian finds film of the group educational - the first time he saw himself was a Mike Mansfield opus for 'Keep Yourself Alive' - "It was 'All right fellows, give it everything you've got but don't move off that spot.' It was terrible." You don't like Mansfield, eh? "Oh, I hate him - we all do... I was horrified when I saw it - I couldn't believe we looked that bad. I looked very static - seeing myself has taught me a lot about stage movement. Some of the things I do are planned for effect, but it's mostly just feeling the audience and communicating that back to them."

Arriving at the motel - several miles out of town - Freddie immediately fell asleep, John held court of a sort, joined later by Brian, while Roger went jogging, a daily event when touring. Tuning in to rock via Bill Haley and Tommy Steele, he became a drummer because he was better at it than guitar. All through school he was in bands; he only went to dental school out of "middle class conditioning, and it was a good way to stay in London without having to work". His mother thought it a bit strange when he opted for a career as a rock star, but she doesn't worry too much now.

The concert starts in much the same manner as the previous night, but there are signs that tonight is work, with posing an afterthought. The endings to most of their songs are magnificent and majestic, especially 'Flick Of The Wrist' and the rapid harmonies of 'Bad Boy Leroy Brown'.

Maniacal

The audience, seeing their faces in town for the first time, are vociferous in their appreciation. Guys know all the words to every song, yelling enthusiastically at every effect and solo. The band picks up, Freddie receiving the crowd beneficently, telling them they’re beautiful.

As the show builds it is obvious that things are gelling more. The previous night Brian had seemed totally out of place, not moving too much, taking solos with the weirdest half blank half possessed stare, talking to himself; cocking ear towards guitar. He was the proverbial stranger in a strange land, one step removed from the plane inhabited by you and me.

Tonight he moves fluidly, the gonzo lead guitarist of a gonzo band. His expressions are just as maniacal, but it only makes him look more demonic. His solo in 'Brighton Rock', an exposition in riffing and echo, is a treat because of his physical response to both music and audience, complete with ham acting. Freddie gets into the same game on 'The Prophet's Song', where he conducts an acapella madrigal with himself. It's a pretty commanding moment.

It’s soon after this that Madison Square seems reasonable. About a minute into 'Stone Cold Crazy' it becomes very obvious that Queen have suddenly Plugged In. Found the metal music machine and Connected. Freddie's movements explode in perfect unison with the music, the lights and surroundings go crazy, and the audience goes berserk.

Freddie asks for requests and receives a roar out of which one can vaguely make 'Liar'. Fred walks along the stage, nodding, agreeing he will do this one and that one while the kids roar on. "I'll tell you what - we'll do them all!"

'Doing Alright' opens slow and portentously. Queen's variation of light and shade is one of the major factors in their popularity, but even so the quiet sections frequently find the audience's mind wandering. One kid starts getting a joint together, totally forgetting it when everything blasts off again; guys talk among themselves, only to instantly leap to their feet, fists flying to the beat.

'Doing Alright' changes into a cha-cha beat, Freddie snapping his fingers, the coolest hipster in town, and then instantly drops into faster-than-light drive - the whole row next to me leaps to their feet as a man, rocking back and forth as Brian roars into a blinding solo.

Two songs later, in 'Seven Seas of Rye', the kids break - very fast - and in five seconds half the audience is a seething mass in front of the stage, climbing on each other in pyramids, sudden openings appearing as a splintering seat sends a few bodies to the floor.

The rest of the show is equally intense, especially for a couple of minutes during 'Liar; where Fred and Brian merge into a tight little triangle with Roger while John stands in front of the bass drum, staring out with his small smile.

Freddie has treated his encores - 'Big Spender' and 'Jailhouse Rock' - differently on successive nights, once appearing in a kimono and in Bristol with rather rude tight white shorts, giving the song title new emphasis. In Cardiff, though, he doesn't bother to change at all. Later it transpired that Brian had twisted his ankle during 'Liar'. While he’s attended to, kids out front pick up chair slivers to keep as mementos.

On the bus back to the hotel Brian sits quietly at the back, chatting with two girls. John sits at the front, as always. Freddie stares out of the window, lost in his own world. Roger bounces around, starts a pillow fight with Brian - which stops as soon as Brian scores a direct hit to the face - then discovers an eight track of 'Sheer Heart Attack', punching it through the channels as he conducts the group. The two hours towards which they have channelled the day's energies are spent.

Ambition

That Queen have become a top attraction through a fair degree of plagiarism is amusing. Stealing is nothing new in rock (or any art for that matter) and mostly Queen use the borrowed material better than the originals. That they would be big I don't think anybody really doubted. All four have immense desire to be successful, and that kind of ambition will keep them slogging until they achieve it.

But there are popular heavy metal bands and there are popular h-m bands. From watching Queen's audience it is apparent that Queen speak for them in a way that bands such as the Who and the Stones and the Beatles spoke (and continue to speak) to their audience. Uriah Heep may be great at what they do, but five years after their demise who'll remember them? Creedence Clearwater Revival demonstrate the same thing - who remembers them? And yet five years ago they were the largest band in the world.

Queen will probably always be remembered, because as their tour is beginning to demonstrate, they have the ability to actualise and encompass the outer limits of their sense of self-importance. Queen and their music, presentation, production - everything about them says that they are more important than any other band you've every heard, and who has there been, so far, who has objected? Certainly not the 150,000 people (plus 20,000 a day) who bought 'Bohemian Rhapsody' in the first 20 days of its release. Certainly not me.

See you at Madison Square Garden.

[text © J. Ingham 2007; photos © Kate Simon]

~ You can see the photos which was mentioned on the article, from the link on the title. ~

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

[enkelimagnus]

Cookbook

Bucky Barnes Gen, 1694 words, rated T for Hydra shit

Jewish Bucky Barnes, pre TFATWS, post Endgame

Bucky walks home from a long day of paperwork. On his path is a garage sale and a tired woman.

TW: cigarettes, smoking

Read on AO3

Part 2 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series, Part 1 here, Part 2 here

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

Bucky smokes on the way home from work.

Everything that brought some sort of pleasure was a currency back in his day. That was why they sent cigarettes to the front. It was easy to make them necessary, when you were under constant fire and needed something to keep you going. Anything that got you out of that hell was traded for, fought for. Some days, it was like nothing mattered more than the next ration shipment and its load of cigarettes, pin-up magazines and six-pence books.

In truth, he doesn’t have the habit he used to have. Hydra wouldn’t have that. Upside of brainwashing, he guesses. And it’s not like it burns the same way anymore. That’s the serum for you.

Still, sometimes, he pulls a cigarette out of its gore-decorated cardboard box, lights it and pretends it has the same effect on him now than it did back in muddy camps or candle-lit living rooms.

The day has been long. No raids, but he’d been stuck behind a desk doing fucking paperwork for the last two weeks-worth of missions. His reports are tired and concise, he hates doing them and he’s pretty sure it’s obvious to anyone who reads what he writes.

He wishes he could smoke then , at that stupid cramped desk, to make the endless signing and reading and writing easier, but you’re not allowed to smoke inside anymore. So he finds himself doodling on other pieces of paper when his mind drifts. His focus is not the best outside of missions.

He used to love writing shit. Steve had his drawings and Bucky had his words, in between everything else. They wrote stories on notes they passed in class in high school. When it got taken by the teacher, no one could understand what they were talking about. He used to make up worlds and think of men walking in space, and he wishes he could tell his 14-year-old self that there are people in the sky, and that he’ll meet them one day. That he’ll see aliens, real ones, and punch them in the face.

He would tell him all the good things about the universe, all the people in it, all about partners in crime and arms like Dugan or Morito or Jones, or Sam or Natasha, how he not only met Howard Stark but was his comrade, how Stark knew him as “Sergeant Barnes” or “Sarge”.

He’d tell him all the good, and none of the bad, none of how his dad would die in two years and he’d be leading the family in shabbos prayers at 16, none of how the people in the world could be cruel for the sake of their own fun, none of how Howard Stark said his name in shock before he punched in his skull with the metal fist that was now his left hand.

Those conversations with his younger self -- barely a man, already smart-mouthed and charming and cocky in the way teenagers are and in the way Bucky had tried to remain for as long as he could until the war drained it out of him -- evaporate in the smoke, in the cold Brooklyn air.

He doesn’t love writing anymore. His mind can’t create the worlds it used to make. He thinks in three languages on a good day, only knows how to write one of those, so whenever he tries, something’s always missing. On a bad day, he can barely string along one sentence, let alone tell a story.

And he’s got no one to tell them to, anyway.

It’s 7pm and the streets are dark and icy. In the last few weeks, the gloves he always wears to hide his left hand have not been an incongruous fashion statement.

It’s January now. There was snow last week, a soft blanket that made him fucking cry out of nowhere when he saw it through the window. It was gone soon, but it was there. And for once, it didn’t fall on Siberia. It fell on Brooklyn again. He never would have thought he’d seen snow on Brooklyn again.

That kind of shit pulls memories out of him like nothing else, and he’s thankful for them. They make it easier and harder at the same time.

He told Doctor Raynor about the shul that’s now a church, about how it was the worst pain he’d felt since he’d last been wiped. How that’s another reason why he doesn’t want to walk into Becky’s retirement home and see her as she is now. The pain of time lost is the worst one to bear.

That, and he’s pretty sure she knows what he’s done. His name and photo have been blasted on every news channel and every social media website after the UN bombing. There’s no way she wouldn’t recognize him, when he looks so similar to the brother she lost.

He has no desire to face his Becky now that he’s a murderer and a weapon of mass destruction, Hydra brainwashing or not. You don’t do that to your little sister.

Besides, she doesn’t need him. She’s got kids and grandkids and great-grandkids, and nephews and nieces and every sort of relative you can imagine except for parents and siblings. She’s taken care of, they visit her often, she doesn’t need the grief he’d bring. He can’t be selfish.

He stops to stab the butt of the cigarette into a wall but his eyes catch something else.

In the cold evening, there’s a few lights set up on the sidewalk, over some makeshift tables threatening to crumble over all the items on it. Everyday items mostly, kitchen stuff, books and a clock and some candlesticks.

At first glance, all of the pricier stuff has been sold already, and there’s a tired-looking middle-aged woman sitting on the stairs of the house behind the tables. She has a look on her face, heavy with emotions muddled so well they’re impossible to tell apart.

“Buy what you want,” she says. Her voice doesn’t carry. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have heard more than a mumble if his hearing wasn’t enhanced. “Pay what you want.”

How many times has she said that today?

He looks down at the items for a moment, the cheap metal candlesticks, some old plates decorated with blue flowers, a still plastic-wrapped, never used, frankly hideous challah cover, and a pile of various books. Most in English, a couple in what he assumes to be Polish, some in Yiddish. His eyes fall on one in particular, a cookbook. It looks old.

“Can I touch?” He asks, pointing at the cookbook.

The woman nods. “Yeah. Nothing very modern in there. Bubbe barely even made this anymore,” she explains. Ah. A bubbe passed and the stuff they can’t keep, they’re selling.

The cookbook’s unremarkable. It’s been used, obviously, there are stains of chocolate-covered fingerprints on some of the dessert pages as he flips through. It seems to be half in English and half in Yiddish. He reaches the page where the publication date would be. He doesn’t even know why he’s checking.

Entire Contents Copyrighted 1949 The B. Manischewitz Co. Printed in the U.S.A.

1949. It’s close enough. Really close enough.

“How much do you want?” He looks up at the mourner.

“I told ya, it’s how much you’re willing to give.”

Bucky makes an annoyed sound at the back of his throat. He rephrases the question. “How much do you want me to give?”

The woman makes eye contact again. She looks deeply surprised by his question. Hesitant, too. She has no idea what to reply.

He fishes his wallet out of his pocket, starts going through the cash he has. He barely uses his credit card. Every month, when he gets his money from the army, he immediately withdraws most of it. It’s safer that way, and he knows how much he’s spending.

He counts out 180 dollars. It feels like a ridiculous amount for a cookbook, but the woman’s selling her bubbe’s shit like this, she’s still out at 7pm in January in Brooklyn and Bucky doesn’t have a lot of expenses anyway. He doesn’t really have expensive taste. 18’s a good number too, at least, it used to be, in his day.

“Peace be upon her,” He says quietly, when the woman opens her mouth at the bills he places in her hand. “It’s getting cold, you should go back inside,” he adds, quiet and coaxing, the tone he used to use when the neighbor’s son, Aaron, had a tantrum and sat on the stairs all evening, pretending to be mad at his parents.

Did he know the bubbe in question? Was she one of the kids from Hebrew school? It’s a little too far from his old neighborhood to be sure. He’s not going to ask.

The woman sighs a little, putting the money in her pocket when she realizes he’s not going to take any of it back.

He eyes the tables for a moment. “You need help packing up?”

She hesitates. He gets it, he’s a weird stranger who just bought an old cookbook for 180 dollars, it’s nighttime… He can’t tell her he’s not a serial killer, because he is one, and there’s going to be a moment where she remembers where she’s seen his face before. There usually is.

He holds his hands up, seemingly showing he’s harmless. It’s hilarious, really, because he’s never harmless. But contrary to Steve, he’s not massive. He’s more on the lean side of things, especially with his new arm.

“No pressure.”

She hesitates still, but he sees the exhaustion working away at her until she nods. The cookbook is put to the side and he helps her pack up the tables and the remaining things. He is careful not to display too much strength, and he’s also careful to keep his face in a neutral but positive sort of mask. His resting expression is meaner than needed.

He comes home much later than he thought he would, but he’s got a cookbook and some ideas of how to occupy his amnesia-riddled nights.

#jewish bucky series #bucky barnes #marvel #fic #mine

[blazingopus]

Green Haze - Golden Wind

This story ended up much darker than I had intended. It was very difficult for me to write in some places. Drawing from detective noir can do that sometimes. For the squeamish of you (and this is in no way a judgement), I will list the parts where there is body horror in bold. Please enjoy.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3LZDJ6gWi5HP2P2YCMTcn1?si=A4Kncm8JR_mkOdszS7TCww

You're a private investigator taking photos of someone who spots what you are doing. What happens next?

Napoli, and all of Italia for that matter, is ruled by The Famiglia. A complex web of businessmen, smugglers, politicians, assassins, drug peddlers, hustlers, bookkeepers, and every other role a mafioso could fill. Money acquired legally and illegally is funneled throughout the web, funding the various operations and front businesses. And pulling all the strings from the shadows is the illusive Boss, hiding his identity to preserve his life and keep control over all of Italia. He hears all, sees all. Little happens in the Famiglia without the Boss knowing at least in passing. This is the Empire called Passione. At least, this is what I hear when dealing in the underground.

I am a private investigator. I am paid large sums of money to investigate things that the police cannot, or will not, touch with their pristine hands. I say this, knowing that most of the police are in bed with corrupt politicians. The same politicians working closely, or at the very least taking bribes from Passione.

I only know this because I was in the police force for a few years myself. I saw first hand what went on behind closed doors. They say they want law and order. They say that they want to protect people. They say that they serve the citizens of Napoli. Lies. Nothing but lies. Most who join the force are corrupted by the system and the people. The few who do not leave of their own accord or are forced out.

Morality is a funny thing. Philosophers, authors, religious figures, and other thinkers have debated and formed their own frameworks to understand it. All of which are very different. But there are some basic ideas that most people tend to agree on. Killing innocents is bad. Stealing is bad. Lying is bad. Usually. There are more shades of grey to it all than an overcast sky. And many are willing to throw it all away for their own gain.

I walked away from all of it. The corruption, the lies, the posturing, the cutthroat environment. I was done with it all. I took the skills I had learned as a police officer and went into business for myself. You see, when the world is stripped of morals and decency, there are few things of value: Money. Information. Sex. Sometimes drugs, depending on how you felt that day. And the occasional organ. Of these, information became my currency. I procure information you want, for a price. Unlike the information brokers of Passione, I work on the street, I take the photos, and I steal the evidence. I can provide some of the most incriminating, career ending, reputation ruining information that the brokers would spend millions of Liras for. That is, if I were to sell it to them.

I don't work for Passione, and I have only worked with a few members. Poor souls. They had such ambitions of righting the wrongs, undoing the injustices from the inside. All of them ended up dead soon after their last visit to my office. Seems that the Boss doesn't much like members of his Famiglia trying to undo everything he had worked for.

It was a few days ago when another poor soul asked for my services. An up and coming politician with bright eyes and a noble heart. After being elected to a local office, he had found the government was as corrupted as any other. He was on a valiant quest to rid all he could of the "evil" out of Napoli. I told him that most do not survive that silly quest of his. He replied saying that, 'He would be one of the few who did, and bring some decency to his fair city.' He owed it to the people who elected him into office. I could tell he was a stubborn man, hellbent on his sacred duty. All I could do was shake my head and accept the upfront fee from him. How naïve he was.

Among some other things, he wanted me to look into a young man named Bruno Buccellati. The valiant knight had concerns about where Buccellati stood, since he liked to keep a low profile. While he was a mafioso, he was in good standing with the people of his territory and was a trusted right hand man to Polpo, the capo of Napoli. He suspected that Buccellati was either a noble individual like himself, or was playing nice to everyone to get an advantage. I told him it didn't matter either way.

I spent a couple of days getting a feel for his regular haunts. The people who lived and worked in his territory had a favorable view of him, but were somewhat protective of him. I was able to get more information out of them when I told them that he had helped me not too long ago, and was wanting to repay his kindness. Many said he would not accept any gifts or rewards, but wished me good luck. I didn't need it, but it was appreciated.

Buccellati moved around a lot, completing assignments from Polpo and maintaining the businesses under his jurisdiction. He did however, favor a particular restaurant. He tended to have small meetings there once a week or so with the team he was building. Such things were not uncommon in Passione. Many higher ranking mafiosi had a team of trusted few to help with whatever they were up to. It was a crucial part of the structure of the Familgia, and most teams were extremely independent. It was important that teams did not know of each other, so that separate operations could be conducted without interference or information leaking. At least, that was the intention. For some, it didn't matter how independent or how secretive a team was. Once they gained a certain level of status and notoriety, no matter how careful and secretive they were, word got around about their exploits. The only exception, of course, was the Boss.

The strange thing was, of the two people Buccellati had on his team, both were under the age of 18 and both had criminal records. Pannacota Fugo had allegedly murdered a teacher of his, and had a genius level IQ. If Buccellati played his cards right, he might make Fugo a crucial member of Passione. Narancia Ghirga was a different story. He had ran with gangs most of his younger years and only committed petty theft. From all I could gather, I could not understand why Buccellati had put him on his team. He had no outstanding qualities that I could find. The boy hadn't had an education in years, and had no particular skills.

There wasn't much else I could do now. I had been watching the restaurant for the past few days. I did a little snooping around the restaurant itself, and I found that Buccellati had made a reservation for tomorrow at noon. Four top. If I had to make a guess, he might be recruiting a new member or making some sort of deal. I would have to wait and see.

I made sure I look the part. The goal is to get a good look at Buccellati and his team. Take a few pictures. Start collecting some information about them. In order to accomplish this, I decided to dress a little casual chic. I was playing the role of a photographer for a travel magazine, getting some pictures of the local shops and the people in their natural state. It was important that the magazine had some candid photos along with the glamorized landscapes and reused building shots. At least, that was what I would use as an alibi.

I set up across from the restaurant at a quaint cafe with outdoor seating in the front. I had previously asked the owner if it was alright if I took a few pictures, and he let me eat free for the publicity. He didn't ask many questions. It was ten till noon, and the lunch rush was ramping up.

From what people told me, Buccellati had a few defining features. Piercing blue eyes. Dark hair cut in a severe bob. Pair of gold clips to adorn said bob. Suit with strange poke-a-dot pattern. Exposed chest with a tattoo or lace undershirt, no one could tell for sure. For someone who was so skilled at keeping a low profile, he was damn good at standing out from the crowd.

My eye caught someone entering the restaurant. Blue, hair, gold, pattern, chest thing. That must be him. I watched him talk to the host, who led him to a table right in front of a nearby window. My lucky day. At the table, I could see two other individuals, both looked to be young. These were most likely Fugo and Naranchia. They matched the descriptions I had come across earlier.

I was still watching the customers coming and going. Buccellati would not have reserved a four top if he was not expecting another person. Who that person was, I had no idea. A male walked in that made me pause for a minute. It was not his attire, which was also very distinct. Pale hair and skin deeply contrasted by his dark and broody clothing. It was the fact that it gave me a strong feeling of deja-vu. I didn't think it was a past client, or a past target. It went farther back than that, into the past I wanted to forget.

I took a sip of my water and made myself focus again. Fortunately for me, the mysterious man joined Buccellati at his table. He was lucky number four. It took about an hour and a half for them to order, eat, and discuss their business. The entire time, I was taking notes for one of the articles I was writing. At least, that is what I told the cafe owner. I was making note of particular ticks or quirks they had in their movements and speech patterns. I was also able to get a few pictures of them, but the main photos I was wanting would have to be taken as they left the restaurant.

I put my stuff in my bag when I saw they were beginning to wrap up. I left my camera hanging around my neck. I watched Buccellati pay the bill. The four of them stood up. They moved to the front of the building. I moved the camera to my face. I snapped a few photos as they came out the front door.

My heart stopped.

The last one out was the mysterious man. I finally remembered him. Abbacchio. He was one of the victims of the cruel justice system. I was coming to the end of my time in the police when I heard the news of his departure. He had made a hard decision, and it didn't pay off for him. I had worked close with him on some assignments, but I had not seen him since...

His deep purple eyes met mine through the lens. Deep. Accusing. Damn it. Why did I hesitate? I lowered the camera, keeping eye contact with him. His eyes bore into me. They were full of distrust and suspicion. Did he recognize me? Had he caught on to what I was doing?

Abbacchio finally broke eye contact with me, slowly walking away. I let our the breath I didn't know I was holding. I didn't know what his next action was going to be, but I needed to get the hell out of there. Damn it! How could I have been so reckless? So stupid? I could have just compromised everything. I put my camera in my bag and told the waiter my thanks.

I walked briskly toward the nearest train station. While it would be much more convenient to own a car, such a thing was dangerous. Cars can be tracked via licence plate, or could identify my apartment if someone should see me on assignment. That means my options for transportation are limited. Taxis would be faster, but I can blend into the crowds and loose people easier that way. If it all plays out properly.

When I reached the station, I bought a ticket and waited to board. I stood in the crowd, watching around me for anyone from Buccellati's team, or anyone else suspicious. I stepped on the train and found a seat. No one of note came on board. I spent the train ride anxious, my mind racing. Would Abbacchio do anything? Would they hunt me down? I could handle myself well enough, but the members of Passione were dangerous individuals. If they did, I probably wouldn't live through it. But this is what I signed up for when I took up this line of work. This is all my own doing.

The train came to a slow stop. I stood up and stepped onto the street. Heading straight home would be stupid. It would be better to head to the office first, where there would be people to witness anything that might happen. I walked over a block or two to the building where my office was located. I entered and unlocked the door. Inside was the same as I had left it. The heavy wooden desk sat in the back of the room with a chair to match. In front were two large chairs. I picked them out especially because they were very, very uncomfortable. I didn't want people staying longer than they had to, and having comfortable chairs just encouraged people to linger. It was important with the kinds of people I deal with.

I picked up the few documents I had sitting on my desk and stuffed them in my bag. They weren't of great importance, but I could not afford to leave any sort of evidence out. After most of my assignments, if I didn't think they would be useful I burned most of the information I had collected. I didn't want any evidence pointing to me if something got out. I usually didn't need it anyway. There were a few exceptions, though. I had a few safes in my apartment containing very valuable information that might come in handy one day. Don't know when, but you never know when you need to expose someone, or blackmail them, or call in a favor.

I straightened up the place before I left again. Speaking of calling in favors, if shit hits the fan, I might have to do that. Working in the professions I have, you get to know the right people, or the wrong people that need a favor. I didn't want to cash my chips in just yet, but I didn't know how all this would play out. I might not even have time to call in the first place. I have to be damn careful.

I locked the door and headed out onto the street, looking for a cab. My apartment was a bit away from my office. While I would have liked to be able to walk home every day, I didn't want anyone following me home that easily. I hailed a cab down and gave the driver directions.

As soon as I got home, I set the several locks on my reinforced door. Some may say I am paranoid, but that paranoia has kept me alive through some pretty bad scrapes. I quickly changed out of my clothes, throwing on a tank top and sweatpants. If they come for me tonight, I at least want to be comfortable. I then went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. It wasn't the first time I was going to miss out on a lot of sleep. I will have to keep up throughout the night.

I reached into a kitchen drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I needed something to calm my nerves. I hate smoking and would have much preferred alcohol. Alcohol makes me sleepy, and being able to aim is important if hell breaks loose. Nicotine would have to do instead. I took out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling the sickening smoke. Stale, this pack was getting old. I would have to pick up a new one soon.

I went back into my bedroom, opening up the top drawer of my bedside table. I took the two pistols I kept in there and checked the clips inside. I turned off the safety and stuck one in the waistband of my pants, feeling it settle against my spine. I picked up the extra clips I kept as well, putting two in my bra and sticking the rest in my pockets.

I went to the kitchen and grabbed one of my kitchen chairs, dragging it in front of my door. I poured myself a cup of coffee. I walked over to my chair and sat in it backwards. Pistol in my right hand, coffee in my left, cigarette in my mouth. I waited throughout the night with my eyes trained on the door, waiting for anything to go wrong.

The night passed to morning, and the time passed in silence. The sun rose on a new day. I was still alive and unharmed, for now at least. I rose from my seat and quickly showered. I hit myself with the cold water to wake myself up again. I tiredly put on clothes, keeping the pistol in its spot next to my spine. I put the other in the holster I keep in my jacket. I grabbed my bag and walked out my door, undoing all the locks from the night before.

I made my way back to my office without incident. The door was still locked and intact. Everything was in place inside. I sat down behind my desk and pulled out my notes, going over what I had collected over the past few days.

Buccellati seemed decent, at least. Many people went to him for counsel and help. He was Polpo's most trusted mafioso and went above and beyond to complete his missions. He ran his territory well and kept businesses alive. Giving his team a second thought, he probably picked them up off the street and took them in. The younger ones looked a little rough around the edges, and the one that was probably Narancia did not know what comb was. Still, I have run into a lot of people that looked like good people who ended up being rotten to the core.

I sighed and rubbed my face. I needed more coffee, but I didn't want to get up to actually make it. I was pretty much done with Bruno Buccellati, and I needed to move on the other targets my client had hired me to dig up dirt on. That is, if Buccellati didn't come after me and cut my life very short.

I sighed again and stood up, starting up the coffee maker. I watched blankly as the pot filled with caffeinated hot bean water. I needed to stay alert. I needed to stay awake. My life might depend on it.

I poured myself some coffee and walked back to my desk. I didn't need this information much anymore. I put everything in a manila folder and put it into a small safe under my desk. Damn thing was heavy, so it wasn't like anyone was carrying it out anytime soon. I took out my small spiral notebook from my bag, and looked at the list I had written a few days before. It was the list of targets I had been hired to investigate. I took out a pencil and crossed out Buccellati's name. Who would be the best target to go after next?

My head snapped up. There was a knock at my door. I quickly shoved the notebook back in my bag. There were a few possibilities going through my head. My client; he seemed to be a little impatient when I took the job from him. It could be a potential client, they liked to drop in sometimes. Or, it was Buccellati. That last one had my heart thumping against my chest and adrenaline filling my veins. I checked the guns on my person. Everything could go bad very quickly.

I stood up and crossed the room. I hesitated for just a moment before grasping the doorknob and pulling it open.

My heart stopped for just a moment. Before me stood Bruno Buccellati and Abbacchio, their eyes bearing down on me with serious expressions on their faces. I did my best to maintain a stony expression despite the terror filling me.

"Can I help you, Gentlemen?" I asked professionally. I might be able to talk my way out of this.

Buccellati nods his head slightly. "Yes. Do you have time to talk, miss?"

"I do." I moved aside and gestured for them to enter. They slid past me and moved to the chairs situated across from my desk. I swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Of all the things that could have happened, this was probably the worst. I would have to be smart about this.

I moved over to my office chair to sit down. A part of me was quite pleased to see Abbacchio becoming visibly uncomfortable trying to settle himself in his chair. Buccellati also looked very uncomfortable, but he was trying his best to not let it show.

"Allow us to introduce ourselves," Buccellati said as I pulled myself up to my desk. "My name is Bruno Buccellati," he gestured to Abbacchio, who had a stern glare on his face, "And my companion is Leone Abbacchio."

"A pleasure," I replied politely.

"It's not," Abbacchio shot back in a low voice. The glare on his face intensified.

Buccellati looked back to me with suspicious eyes. "Though, I am sure that you already know who we are."

"It is my business to know things, Mr. Buccellati." I had to be careful. "Word of you has spread throughout Napoli. It is not uncommon to hear tales of you in the crowds." I looked over at Abbacchio. "And Abbacchio and I served on the same police force together. We had some assignments together from time to time. Now, you said that you would like to speak with me. Are you interested in my services?"

"Not quite." Buccellati shifted his weight a little. "Your reputation precedes you, Miss (Y/N). You are known as a very talented private investigator, perhaps one of the best in Napoli."

I chuckled a bit. "Those words are not mine, Mr. Buccellati. I let my clients decide for themselves if my work is up to par." I tilted my head a little. "It also seems you know who I am. You know your way among the town gossip."

Buccellati cracked a small smile. "It has helped me before in the past, I must admit." His eyes bore into mine again. "What exactly do you do in this profession of yours, Miss (Y/N)?"

I had to play it cool, use a bit of misdirection. "I am a private investigator. I investigate whatever my clients hire me to. Cheating spouses, missing family members, the occasional long lost flame. Many people think that we like working with reporters, but they almost never tell the full story. Police are not much better. Too wrapped up in internal politics to investigate properly and arrest the right people."

"Many people also think that you investigate corruption." Buccellati interjected, his eyes still trained on me. "There are many politicians that do whatever it takes to achieve their goals, no matter how illegal."

I took a breath in. "I don't do that kind of investigating, Mr. Buccellati. If I were to investigate one bad politician, it would take me years to unravel the web of misdeeds and lies. Bad people tend to work with other bad people, who would also be exposed. All for what?" I shrugged. "There will always be corrupt politicians. Removing one would lead to another taking his place, if you could remove him at all. Best to stay out of it entirely. There are many people out there who need help that the police and politicians cannot provide. In doing my work, I hope to provide some solace to them."

"Do you really believe that garbage?" Abbacchio growled at me. Anger was washing over him. "Talking about helping people by going through their private lives. Sounds like a load of shit to me."

"Abbacchio, calm down," Buccellati ordered. His voice was stern and commanding. Abbacchio turned away, becoming more broody by the minute.

Buccellati looked back at me. "Passione is a powerful organization in Napoli, and all of Italia for that matter. It controls one of the largest drug trades in the world, and engages in many illegal activities. Surely, there would be people interested in finding out all they can about it, and the people who comprise its members?"

Buccellati was proding around, trying to find a way to pin me down. I would have to be careful how I answered "Yes, there are many people who would like to uncover the secrets of Passione. I have had my fair share of people try to enlist my services, but I have made it policy to turn them down. The mafiosi don't much like it when people go sniffing around where they shouldn't, and they tend to respond rather violently when they do. I also do not take any assignments from members of Passione. One job leads to another, and you either end up a member of Passione yourself or very much dead. Neither sound very appealing to me."

Buccellati nodded intently. "What kind of people do you take these "assignments" from, Miss (Y/N)?"

I looked at him suspiciously. "A variety of individuals. If you are wanting specifics, I am afraid I have a strict confidentiality policy. I do not share any information about any previous or current clients, or anyone I have or am investigating. Any information I find stays between me and the respective client. What they do with said information is their business."

Buccellati narrowed his eyes at me. " I want to change subjects, if you don't mind."

I nodded. "Go ahead." I had the sense that this conversation was taking a turn for the worse. I could feel my pulse speed up.

"Yesterday, Abbacchio saw you taking photos of me and my team as we were leaving a restaurant." Abbacchio turned back to me and stared at me like he was reading my soul " Not only were you taking photos of us, you were in the perfect location to take them. You were either very lucky that day, or you had been investigating me and tracking my movements." He leans forward, his voice becoming more direct and commanding. "So I ask you, what were you doing there that day, and why were you taking photos of us?"

I had to keep reminding myself to stay calm. I could not let anything important slip. I could not show weakness. And I could not answer that question. "I am not at liberty to say. I told you I keep my work confidential."

"That's fucking bullshit," Abbacchio yelled at me. "You know damn well that someone is trying to get dirt on us!"

"I told you, whether or not that is true, I cannot and will not release any information to anyone but my client."

Abbacchio stood up suddenly, violently knocking over the chair in the process. Anger seethed across his body. "I am not taking any more of this. You tell us everything, or I will beat the living shit out of you!"

I stood up, pulled the pistol out of my jacket and aimed it at him. I knew that if I pulled the trigger, the first bullet would lodge right between his eyes.

"You can try, but you would have to reach me first."

Before anything else could happen, there was a small flash of blue light in the corner of my eye, before something hit me square in the chest. I fell back a few feet, my body feeling like it was tearing apart. I landed on my side, my muscles not functioning and my joints not moving. I didn't know what kind of weapon Buccellati had used on me, but it was very effective. I moved my head a little, just enough for Buccallati and Abbacchio to come into view.

Buccallati looked deep into my eyes, murderous intent in his cool blue pools. "I'm tired of playing games, Miss (Y/N). Tell us what we want to know, or I will have to resort to more extreme measures. And know that I am very good at telling when people are lying."

I gave him a defiant glare. "You think you are the first person to threaten me? I have put up with a lot of shit in my life, I doubt you can do anything to me to make me talk."

His gaze lingered on me for a few seconds. Then he looked to Abbacchio. "Move her onto her back and support her head. I want her to see this."

Abbacchio nodded and knelt down next to me, sliding his hands under my arms and easing me onto my back. He pulled me up to his chest, and I could see my body splayed out in front of me. My arms and legs were in strange and unnatural angles, but they didn't look broken or damaged. Still, they were doing some very unnatural things.

I looked up at Buccellati. He was rolling the sleeves of this suit jacket to expose his forearms. "There have been many sorts of punishments used over the course of human existence," he said as he kneeled beside me. "Disembowelment is particularly brutal and painful. Most people don't tend to live through it. It just so happens that I have an ability that allows such an act to be easier on the both of us."

He outstretched an empty hand, and touched me just above my collar bone. If I could move, I would have flinched away. Abbacchio and Buccellati's strange power kept me from doing much of anything. Buccellati clenched his hand like he was grasping something. He then moved his hand down my sternum, over my abdomen, and stopped just below my navel. A thin line was left on my clothing. He then took both hands and pulled on both sides of the line he drew. Slowly, my clothes and my skin separated together to reveal what lay underneath.

I could see inside myself. I saw my heart as it drummed and sent blood shooting through my arteries and veins. I could see my lungs rise and fall with my breathing. I watched my stomach churn and move. My intestines pulsed as they did their digestive dance. I could see all the red and soft organs that were keeping me alive and well. Everything was wet and held together by long, thin membranes you could see though. I couldn't move, but that didn't stop me from shaking in fear.

"How easy it would be to kill you," Buccelatti said as he looked into my eyes. "All I would have to do is squeeze your aorta until your cells die of oxygen deficiency, if your heart doesn't explode first. Or I could cut off the air to your lungs and let you suffocate. But if I wanted to make this really painful," He moved his hands over to where my intestines pulsated, "I could simply disembowel you. That would be much longer and more painful, giving me more time to get some answers out of you."

My shaking was becoming worse, my breathing becoming ragged. I kept my eyes locked on Buccellati, avoiding the horror he had unleashed. "Even if I do tell you, you would just end up killing me anyway."

He gave me a small, terrifying smile. "I may be a mafioso, Miss (Y/N), but I can assure you that I am a man of my word. You tell me what I want to know, and all this will end."

"Either way, I'll be spilling my guts."

"That's the idea."

He reached into my body and grabbed hold of my small intestine. Reaching into his pocket, he brought out a small pocket knife, flipping it open. He brought the blade to my abdominal cavity, preparing to cut the thin membrane that held my organs in place. He was going to pull my intestines out right in front of me.

Tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to thrash around, do something to stop it, but nothing was working. I could feel hot tears running down my face. I began to scream, to beg, to plead with Buccellati to stop. This was not worth getting my intestines ripped out for. This was not worth dying over.

"What were you doing yesterday?" he demanded an answer. "Why were you watching us? Why were you photographing us?"

The tears kept coming. "I was hired to."

"Obviously. Who hired you?" Buccellati nearly yelled.

I choked out the client's name.

He thought for a moment. "You said that you didn't work for politicians. You also said that you don't investigate members of Passione. You are either lying or you are very confused, and I doubt you are the latter."

I dropped my head back and stared at the ceiling. "It doesn't matter if I take the job or not. Either way, he ends up dead. They all do."

"They end up dead?" Abbacchio questioned from behind me.

"Fools who think they can fix everything. Undo all the terrible things that Passione has done. Rid Napoli of corrupt people. They don't understand what they get themselves into." I swallowed and let more tears fall. "I try to warn them. Try to tell them they are playing with fire, but they never listen. They are so hellbent on being the hero that they don't have time to listen. It doesn't matter if I get them the information or not. They never have enough time to do anything with it. Passione always finds out. Passione always comes for them. And the fools always end up dead."

My words hung in the air for a moment, the mafiosi taking in what I had said. "That still doesn't explain why you took the job." Abbacchio said softly. "You could have refused him."

"I know, " I whispered. "But if I did, he would turn to other places to get what they want, and most of them are being funded by the government officials or are members of Passione. He would be found out and dealt with much quicker than if he came to me. The problem is, idiots like him tend to have family and friends that care about them. If I take the job, instead of someone else, he might live just a day longer."

I lowered my eyes to look at Buccellati again. He looked intently at me, but I couldn't read his expression. What was he thinking? Did he hate me? Did he think I was a fool for even thinking like this? Did he feel sorry for me for lying to myself, justifying working for these poor souls?

Buccellati put the knife back in his pocket, taking out a handkerchief to clean his wet hand. He stood up and walked over to my chest. "Help her up, Abbacchio." The two of them lifted me to my feet, careful not to hurt me.

I looked down at my body again. My limbs were normal and straight. There was no gaping whole in my torso. I was magically whole again. I wiped some of the tears off my face. What kind of superpowers did these people have?

I took control over my body again, trying to regain my balance. I smoothed out my clothing and adjusted myself. I took a deep breath in. "If you gentlemen would excuse me," I said without looking at the mafiosi, " I will return shortly." I promptly walked out the door and turned down the hall. I opened the lady's room door and headed to the sink.

I took a few haggard breaths. My body had stopped shaking but I was still trying to recover. I wasn't dead yet. I was still intact. I just needed to let my body calm down.

As far as interrogations go, that was very effective for how little he actually hurt me. How the hell did Buccellati open me up like that without actually cutting into me? Was this all some sort of fever dream? Or a nightmare?

I turned on the faucet and ran the water over my hands. I needed to gather myself. I splashed the cool water over my face. I glanced at the mirror as my face dripped. I looked like death. All the color had drained from my face, there were dark bags under my eyes. Even the muscles under my face didn't have enough energy to move properly. I grabbed a few paper towels and dried my face.

I was so tired. I didn't want to be here anymore, to deal with Buccellati anymore. I just wanted to sleep forever and let the world pass me by. Damn it all.

I gripped the edge of the sink. I had to go back in there. I had to face them one more time. I didn't have a choice. They had gotten what they wanted from me. I didn't know what other information they would attempt to get from me. I didn't know if I would want to give it to them. Besides, my bag was still in there.

I gave myself a few more adjustments in the mirror before walking out into the hall. I told myself to breathe, to stay calm. I forced myself to walk to my office door. I gripped the doorknob. I turned it and opened the door.

Abbacchio was sitting on top of my desk, one leg tucked under him while the other dangled off the side. Buccellati stood off to the side, involved intensy with the conversation with his companion. The chair that Abbacchio flipped over was still laying on its side. They did, however, pick up my office chair. The both of them looked at me as I opened the door.

"Are you alright, Miss (Y/N)?" Buccellati asked me, a concerned look on his face.

I closed the door behind me. "Well enough, at least." I looked up at him. "I am surprised you would even ask that."

He gave me a strange look. "I may be a mafioso, but I am not heartless."

"You could have fooled me."

Buccellati looked at me intensely. "You would do whatever necessary to protect what is important to you, am I right Miss (Y/N)?"

I thought for a moment. "I suppose so."

"So would I. In my business, people important to you end up dead if not protected."

I sighed. "I see your point, Mr. Buccellati." I walked over to my office chair. "My question is, who is important to you? Who is so close to you that you would torture and kill to protect?"

"Haven't you done enough digging as it is?" Abbacchio growled at me. He was always a little prone to bad moods, but I don't remember him being this bad.

I glared at him. "I answered you damn questions, you might as well answer mine."

Buccellati raised his hand. "She's right, Abbacchio. We owe her an explanation for what happened that day." He looked back to me. "Miss (Y/N), would you join us for lunch? I would be happy to answer any questions you have."

I gave him a confused look. "Why would you trust me? How do you know I won't just sell all the information you give me?"

"I agree," Abbacchio spoke up. "This is stupid, Buccellati. We have more pressing matters to attend to."

Buccellati looked back to me, a small smile on his face. "Something tells me that you can be trusted. But I will only answer you questions if you come with us."

I thought for a few moments. This could be a trap, certainly. But I didn't think so. Buccellati didn't seem like he had something up his sleeve. Free food also didn't sound so bad either. I leaned down and grabbed my bag.

"Lead the way."

Half an hour later, I was sitting in a restaurant. The very same restaurant I watched the day before. Sitting across from me was a very calm Buccellati and a not as calm Abbacchio. I scanned over the menu, trying to narrow down what I wanted to eat. It all sounded so good. After the waiter took our orders, he whisked away our menus, leaving the three of us to talk.

Buccellati folded his hands over his face. "So, what do you want to know?"

I thought for a moment. "Narancia Ghirga. Why is he on your team? I can understand Abbacchio. He has a lot of skills from his career as a police officer. He also has a lot of knowledge on how both criminals and police operate. Pannacotta Fugo is extremely intelligent, and can probably think his way around problems. Narancia has no particular skills or qualities that set him apart."

He took a breath in. "It is not a simple story. Fugo found him alone and broken on the street. He brought Narancia to me in the hopes that I could help feed him. He was also in bad shape and needed extensive medical treatment. I made sure he had a full recovery. I could tell as time went on he began to idolize me." He looked away for a minute. "This life I lead is not for most people. It can destroy you if you are not careful. I didn't want to drag Narancia into it. I sent him home to his father to continue his education."

I leaned forward, intrigued by the story he was crafting. "Then how did he become a mafioso?"

Buccellatti gave a momentary smirk. "He went behind my back. Went directly to Polpo for initiation. He requested to be under my command. I accepted." He took a sip of his water. "He might not look like much, but Narancia fights to the bitter end. He is deadly when he wants to be, and is extremely loyal. I could not ask for a better charge."

During the course of the meal, I asked many questions. I learned more about what had happened to Abbacchio, the hard choices he had to make. I learned about Fugo, the difficult life he led of study and high expectations. And I learned of Buccellati, his life of fending for himself and his father. Now, he fights for Napoli, doing what he can for the people.

While the stories were being told, I told mine. I had always wanted to make a difference here. There was this righteousness that always burned within me. But whenever I tried, someone or something always stopped me. The only correct way to get anything done in Napoli is the illegal way. So I stopped trying. I used my skills to support myself, maybe help where I could. But the more you dig up, the more you realize how evil people can be. The more it beats you down and takes hold of your soul.

By the time everything was said, we had finished eating and Buccellati was paying the bill. Once he had finished, he looked to me. "Would you wait for us outside, Miss (Y/N)? There is something I would like to discuss with Abbacchio."

I nodded. "Of course."

I wandered out the front door and leaned against the building. I watched the people pass by. One person in particular caught my eye. A teenage boy wearing an altered pink private school uniform. His blond hair braided down his back and his bangs intricately set. A strange sight indeed. But not the most extravagant person you would see in Napoli.

I saw Buccellati and Abbacchio walk out of the restaurant. I stood up and walked to them. "Before we part ways," Buccellati said to me, "I have one more question to ask you."

"Another one?" I joked.

He smiled for a moment. "Just one. What do you think of joining my team? With your skills, you would make a valuable asset. You already know Abbacchio, and the two of you would work well together."

"I am the last person who would want to join Passione," I said promptly.

He shook his head. "You would be a member of Passione, but you would be working for me." He looked intently at me. "You of all people would know how I run things. I am trying to make Napoli better for everyone. Would you join me in doing that?"

I avoided eye contact, trying to make sense of everything. Just earlier that day, we thought of each other as enemies. Now, he had seen something in me that compelled him to ask me to join his cause. And Abbacchio had agreed to this? He had been so antagonistic towards me.

I looked Buccellati directly in the eyes. "I would need to wrap up my assignments, or try to get out of them somehow. But, yes. I will join you, Mr. Buccellati."

He nodded. "Good. I was hoping that would be your answer. By the way, you don't have to call me 'Mr.' anymore. Bruno will do just fine"

I smiled up at him. "You don't have to call me 'Miss.' either. (Y/N) works just as well."

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure golden wind #golden wind #vento aureo #bruno buccellati #leone abbacchio #narancia ghirga #pannacotta fugo #jjba #jjba reader insert #jjba x reader #jjba fanfiction

[mrs-i-have-too-many-biases]

Bang Chan// Sun and Moon (-light)// Chapter three

Summary: Sun and Moon, different from another, but both unmissable in the world. The sun is warm, it provides daylight. It represents life, strength and growth. The moon, the brightest and largest object in our night sky. It makes the earth more livable and represents admiration, change, mystery and feelings. The sun is untouchable and unreachable, but what if his ,independent, sun(-shine) becomes his world? Tropes: Enemies to Lovers Season: Spring Pairing: Bang Chan X Reader AU: | Delinquent!Female Reader | Vice President!Bang Chan | School!AU | Non!Idol AU | Genre: Fluff/ Angst Word Count: 7,5K Warnings: Themes of bullying, Themes of Abuse, swearing, insults, Requested: Yes (Reference) A/n: For the sake of the fiction, Chan is a twat in the story, but only for imagines purposes only. We all know better than that.

Y/n huffed impatiently as she waited for Chan to arrive finally. She laid her head on the table as the morning sun shined on her face through the windows. He had told her that he would’ve been a little later due to his training sessions, which obviously came with being the star athlete of the school.

She was munching away at the table she and Chan kept claiming every session. She had secretly sneaked some food into the library. The librarian, who knew Y/n by now quite well, let her however, without letting anyone else know of course. Y/n would’ve stayed at the 24-hour library to take a nap, away from home before she was close with Changbin. The librarian, better known as Adelaide. She was an elder lady who was very modernised. She had tattoos of her own that she would love to talk about with Y/n. She would often act like a grandmother to Y/n, something and someone Y/n never had. This was she got to experience that a little.

When Y/n heard a gasp she knew Chan had arrived, the smell of chlorine that filled her senses also giving it away. “Y/n! You can’t eat in the library!” Chan whisper yelled as he was about to snatch it away from her. “I can.” Y/n smirked as she kept on eating whilst looking Chan deadly in the eyes. “Don’t worry, Adelaide doesn’t care, when it comes to me at least.” “Why did she gave up on you already?” Chan joked, making Y/n roll her eyes.

“I came here to study, I also waited for you for an hour and I brought you snacks. So, instead of being a little twat, sit down and let’s do this. I could’ve been done already.” She sighed slightly in annoyance. “Alright, alright. But still I think it’s a little odd to eat here.” Chan mutters, yet still taking the pack of snacks form Y/n’s hands. “Adelaide will be find with it, unless it’s a complete dinner, that she doesn’t appreciate.”

After an hour, Y/n still couldn’t understand the exercise they had been discussing. “How can you still not get it! We’ve been over this already for the umpteenth time!” Chan cried out tiredly. He ran his hands through his now fuzzy hair. He looked like a madman and he blamed Y/n for it, because that what she did, she drove him mad. Especially right now.

“C’mon Y/n, we have class in ten minutes.” “You expect me to get this magically in the next ten minutes, even though we just spent an hour on this one thing.” “Alright, let’s continue this after school then. Because we have a test in a few days and you need to get a good grade.” Chan yawned. “Fine.” Y/n sighed as well as she started to pack up her stuff.

“When are you free?” Chan asked her. Y/n looked at him surprised whilst raising an eyebrow. “I thought I was the one who needed to adjust to your schedule?” She smirked turning his words against him, making him cringe in process. “Y/n I-“ “It doesn’t matter. Just tell me a date and a place.” “Tonight, your house-“ “Uh, rather not my house-“ “Then why did you-“ “Let’s just meet up here again, so that people will restrain me from ending myself, because this shit is getting on my nerves.” She said before walking out to her class.

Chan sighed to himself as the stupid words repeated themselves through his head. He regretted snarling those words to her the other day, but he tried to shake them off as he as well made his way to his class.

“I’m telling you Binnie, this next tattoo will be amazing! I already drew new designs for you!” Y/n said happily as she was on the phone with her best friend. Y/n was set outside once again, on the usual spot. The sun was warm and she was scribbling away in her notebook. “If you could actually tattoo than I would be fighting for my job right now, even Hyunjin talked about teaching you the ways of tattooing.” Bin chuckles. “I mean, I am an amazing artist, you should be quaking.” She laughed brightly.

What Y/n didn’t know was that Chan had been watching her, like a little creep. Well, not really, but he had been staring at her ever since she took place at the table outside. Chan saw how bright she was and how the sunlight complimented her skin. He felt his heart jump a little when he saw he smile again. He suddenly was overwhelmed with his feelings, especially when his friends dropped another joke of him having a crush on her. “No, I’m just wondering how she can lazy around when she should worry about her life.” Chan shot back. The words weren’t aimed towards him, but they stung into his chest.

Why did something inside tell him that he was ‘too good’ for her, that she was ‘below him’ and that he shouldn’t fall for someone like her. He started to argue with himself that he wouldn’t fall for her, but when he looked up to Y/n’s figure once again and saw her smile, his jumping heart tried to prove him otherwise.

In the meantime Y/n was still on the phone with Changbin. “Hey, Binnie, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out later? You could be my knight and safe me from my tutoring sessions.” “I mean you could go and use your new knowledge on your tutor-“ “I’m going to stop you right there for the sake of my sanity.” She groans as her friend laughed at his dirty joke. “No, but I guess I can be your rescuer and hang out with you.” Changbin said before he was cut off by her gasping. “I’m sorry Binnie! I forgot that he wanted to study some more in our free time.” She could hear her best friend pout through the phone. “Why do you play with my feelings like that? My producer buddy’s also gone, so you’re telling me that you’re leaving me behind to hang out all night with Hyunjin?” He cried out dramatically. “You would be working anyway. I’ll send you the drawings I made so you can redesign them.” “Fine, fine. But you owe me a complete date. Which means activities, you pay for dinner thank you for offering and cuddles, because I need your attention.” He muttered cutely. “Fine fine, except we’re probably splitting the bill, oh how smart of you Binnie!” She joked, using his tactics against him.

She heard him huff once again before they exchanged their goodbyes and hung up the phone.

Hours passed and Y/n was back at it again with Chan. She magically got her to understand the exercise, they had trouble with before, within fifteen minutes.

“Thank God, because I was going to lose my last braincells due to your stupidity.” Chan joked before getting a notebook thrown to his head.

The two decided after having some banter and studying the session for the next morning in advance, so they could sleep in before school for once after a long time.

It would be nine o’clock when the two started to lose motivation and focus. “Someone’s hungry.” She joked when she heard Chan’s stomach grumble. “No shit, we’ve been in here for hours and your crisps aren’t that filling you know.” “You twat, be glad I brought you some food or I would’ve left you here to starve.” Chan chuckled at her grumpy state and shook his head in amusement.

“Alright Gym Rat, let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving as well.”

“Gym rat?” He asked while laughing, taken aback by the sudden nickname. “Yeah, you’re buff as fuck. Now pack up so we can go and eat, or else I’m leaving you here.” Chan was shocked by her words as she stood up and left to wait outside for him.

He was surprised that she noticed and almost complimented his body, but he just told himself that she must’ve assumed what his body looked like through others’ whispers. Or did she actually watch his competitions? So many questions, yet so little answers.

“So, where do you want to go.” Expecting a name of a restaurant being spilled from Y/n’s lips, Chan was yet again to be surprised. “There’s a convenience store not far from here, let’s go there.” Chan was used to girls picking out expensive restaurants whenever they were with him, expecting him to pay since they knew he was too nice and rather wealthy.

When they walked into the store, it wasn’t very crowded. Y/n told him that she liked to come here since people usually liked to go to convenience stores near the river. This store was particularly cute and aesthetically pleasing, it would be a great place for Instagram photos, yet no one seemed to know of it, since it was hidden behind the tall and modern buildings of Seoul.

Y/n would grab a basket and throw many kinds of food in. Two packs of instant noodles, two fried chicken breasts, some 떡볶이 (‘Tteokkbokki’: Spicy rice cakes) that the two of them could share and lastly some beverages. She surprised him even more when she paid for all of it. She went to prepare the food as Chan went to look for a spot and to keep an eye on all their stuff.

He looked around and took the scenery in. It was quite pleasing to the eye and he had to admit that he almost never came into a convenience store. He usually got all his food from at home. Or there would be someone who would get the food for him and his family. He was quite spoiled, but he was aware of it, so it wasn’t that bad, right?

Within ten minutes Chan had devoured the food and was left with only the delicious aftertaste on his tongue and a filled belly. He sat back in his chair as he munched on the rice cakes as he watched Y/n eat elegantly. Compared to Chan, she actually looked like she was enjoying the food, doing little dances after each bite or sip from her drink. He thought it was cute and smiled a little to himself.

The nice lady who owned the store came up to the two and smiled kindly as she gave them ‘service’, which basically mean they get free food ‘on the house’. “It’s nice to see you again Y/n.” She added before walking off again. Chan stared at her, making Y/n burst out in laughter. “I basically live here.” She explained playfully, but shortly before eating again. “It seems like you live everywhere else but at home.” Chan joked, making Y/n stop for a split second to process the comment. She knew he was right, but she didn’t wanted to admit it. So she just forced out a chuckle before eating again, this time avoiding his gaze.

Chan felt the air thickening as soon as the joke slipped out and he felt and physically saw that she got uncomfortable. He felt a pang in his chest, which was guilt that spread through his veins. Y/n noticed Chan tensing up as well. She contemplated if she wanted to tell him about her home situation, but she didn’t. She didn’t tell Changbin until they had known each other for months. Yes, she knew Chan for ages, but did she though? They never spend time together until these past weeks and those meet ups were forced.

She didn’t notice Chan standing up, but jumped in shock when he suddenly sat back down. He held two ice creams in his hand and handed one to her. It was his turn to jump in shock when he heard Y/n gasp and squeal in excitement as she took the ice cream from his hands. She stared at it for a good ten seconds with big sparkly eyes before ripping the paper off it and eating it.

“You must really love ice cream.” Chan laughed in disbelief at her sudden change of behaviour, which relieved him. “This is my absolute favourite ice cream.” She said in between licks. “Really?” “Yes! I thought they stopped selling these, because I haven’t seen them in ages! Thank you, by the way.” She said in a whisper. “Shouldn’t I be thanking you? You literally paid for everything.” “I mean, you’re the one helping me out. Even though I know you don’t really want to and this is all forced onto you, it’s really the least I could do. I would love to treat you in a real restaurant, but I simply don’t have the money for that.” She admitted in embarrassment. She really wanted to show her gratitude, but if only she had a little more money. The money she made at Tattoo Parlour.

“No, no! It’s okay, really. Please don’t feel bad. I really enjoyed the food. It was honestly one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. It’s simply but very tasty.” Chan assured her quickly. “Oh please-“ “No, really! I mean, noodles, everyone loves them. Caviar, please.” Chan scoffed making her smile. “Thanks.”

There was a short period of silence as the two avoided each other’s gazes. “Chan?” “Yes?” “Do you find me intimidating?” She suddenly asks. “Why are you asking?” “Why are you avoiding answering my ask?” She smirked slightly, but then soon sighed, because she was already aware of the answer that was about to come out of his mouth, which was ‘yes’.

“Am I actually that intimidating?” “Well, you usually show up in bruises, cuts and other types of wounds. You wear black all the time, you don’t really interact with people and you’re quite mysterious.” “Well, seems like I did caught your eye.” She joked, but she had no idea how hard Chan’s heart was pounding.

“I don’t feel like I’m intimidating though. I’m just, I don’t know, protecting myself.” She admitted as she rested her head on her hand, whilst looking at the guy in front of her. “Protecting yourself from what?” Chan asks, genuinely worried. “I don’t know, people, I guess. It’s the way I look, dress, apparently behave and have behaved in the past that makes people think certain things of you. People assume I’m a bad kid, because I have scars and wounds all over my body, that doesn’t necessarily mean that I’ve beaten up a random kid.” She huffed in slight frustration.

“What are the bruises from then?” Chan asked carefully. “I kickbox and practice Taekwondo in my free time. I don’t really like using harnesses or gloves for kickboxing.” Which wasn’t half of a lie. “That honestly explains quite a lot.” Chan mutters as he felt guilty for prejudicing her. “It’s one of the simple reasons why teacher don’t like me, my appearance I mean. And the shit I did in my pass apparently is permanently burned into their mind, since it’s in my ‘permanent record’. I guess I can’t change their view and thoughts on me.” “Yes, you can and you will with the upcoming test. You’re going to show them that you got this, which you actually do. You understand almost everything perfectly. At some exercises you didn’t even needed me.” Chan encourages, softening Y/n’s heart for him.

Only Changbin, plus his parents, have been encouraging towards her for the past years. It was nice to have someone else to add to that list.

“I just wish some people took some courage or something to get to know me, you know? I really am not that bad, or well I at least hope I’m not.” She sighs and Chan pitied her.

“Then I would like to get to know you, or at least better.” Chan’s words surprised himself as they had the same effect on Y/n. “What-“ “Let’s get to know each other, in the mean time I can change your mind that I’m not a snobby rich kid.” “I never-“ “I know, but that’s what most people think of me when they hear my name: rich, athletic and probably handsome.” He joked smugly as she scoffed out a laughter. “No one says that pretty boy.” “Yet here you are!” He laughed along.

“Well, if you want to get to know me better, then meet me at third period at the ‘Stray Café, tomorrow.” She leaned forward to set the seriousness in her tone, as he gulped loudly at her sudden confidence that she gained out of nowhere. “I have class third period.” He mutters. “If you really want to get to know me, then I’ll see you tomorrow third period Channie.” She winked before standing up to leave.

Chan didn’t know what messed him up more. The fact that she asked him to skip tomorrow, her confidence, the wink or the nickname he used to be annoyed at.

He turned around to see her looking at him one last time, sending him a smile and yet another wink, before stepping out the store.

She sighed whilst shaking her head in amusement, she wanted to see how true Chan was to his words.

The next morning, after the both of them had their test first period, Y/n went straight to the café to clear her mind. The cup of tea in her hand spread warmth from her fingertips to the rest of her body as she enjoyed the spring scenery that was laid in front of her eyes behind the other side of the window.

Third period almost began and she wasn’t anticipating that Chan would actually show up to the café. But to her surprise she heard the bell indicated that a customer had walked into the store, in reflex she turned her head to see what was going on to see a familiar figure walking in.

Chan had changed out of his ‘school’ clothes and wore a leather jacket, a sweater and ripped jeans. Y/n was speechless to see him like that, being used to see him in plane shirts and black hoodies. She kept staring at him as he sat down in front of her, not bothering to exchange the greeting Chan just said to her.

“Earth to Y/n-“ Chan had waved his hand in front of her face, making her snap out of her trance before she cut him off. “You’re actually here?” She stuttered in utter shock. “Yes, I meant what I said. So let’s get to know each other.” He smiled brightly. When she did this trick with Changbin, he showed up as well and she was overjoyed, because she felt like he really wanted to give her a shot at getting to know each other. Yet, all she could feel right now was worrisome.

“Are you sure you want to be here? What about your reputation? You will get thrown off as vice president and I will get the blame-“ “Don’t worry. That’s my responsibility. Besides, you said you wanted to talk, so let’s talk.” He smirked at her flustered state.

“How was your day?” Chan asks, trying to make the girl across him make herself feel at ease with him. But she was still too in shock of his presence and only manages to squeak out a ‘hngg’, making Chan laugh. “So the test went bad?” “No, I aced that- thanks to you though.” She giggled, slowly feeling more comfortable around him. Usually, skipping wasn’t that big of a deal for her, but skipping with her vice president, hit her a little different.  

The two would be chatting away, Chan told Y/n about his childhood in Australia and how he used to fly back and fort a lot to keep in touch with his friends and family. He told her about his dog, Berry, who he loved very much. He ranted about a crazy story where he and his dog would go on adventures as young kids, they would go swimming together in a lake near by his house in Australia and play together.

“…I sure do miss it there. It’s a lot warmer over there.” He chuckled. “I bet, but I think that the summers here in Korea are more pleasant.” “They definitely are, here I’m not worried that my eyebrows will scorch any second.” He joked, making her burst out in laughter, picturing an eyebrow-less Chan in her mind.

Their banter was interrupted by a young-looking waitress who Y/n had noticed staring at them. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but wonder if you were that famous swimmer? Chan was his name?” She asked whilst twirling her hair around her finger, causing Y/n to force her throw up back down her throat. “N-no, I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else.” Chan tried to convince her, but she was still suspicious about him.

“We should go.” Y/n whispers, they set down a generous amount of money on the table before they left the café. Y/n looked down her arm as Chan dragged her around town, to wherever he was going. His hand had a secure grasp on her wrist.

‘I thought I was the one who asked him to come here, if only people could see him dragging me around like this, they would lose their minds.’ Y/n thought to herself and snickered slightly.

“Okay, so what would you like to do?” Chan asks. “What, you’re not going back to school?” She asked him, thinking he would return for fourth period. “Well, are you?” “No, but-“ “Then let’s go!” Chan cheered.

“What are places you love to go to?” Chan asks her as they sat in the park together, playing twenty-one questions.

“I love going to the park, so props to you, you chose a great spot as well. But I think one of my favourite places to be at all times would be at the beach in Busan.” “Really?” Chan asks. “I used to live there. We also owned this small beach house at the end of the beach where it was pretty much abandoned. My mother used to take me there all the time.” “She doesn’t do it anymore?” Chan asks her without thinking too much of it.” “No, she passed away about two years ago.” Y/n whispers sadly whilst looking down at her feet, resting her head on her knees, that were pressed to her chest in process as well.

Chan felt like an idiot for asking her such dumb questions lately and started to apologise rapidly. “It’s okay, you couldn’t have known.” She assured him with a soft smile, making his heart do weird things in his chest.

“I hate to do this right now, but I have an meeting in thirty minutes which I really need to attend as vice president.” Chan mutters convicted. “That’s fine, I can go back with you to school. I’ll hang out at misses Yu’s music room, since my classes are over anyway.” Y/n offers as she got up. “What do you mean?” “My classes ended after third period.” Y/n smirked. “You’re saying that-“ “I only skipped one period, yes. Yes I did.” She giggled before she started to walk ahead.

When the two had sneaked back into the school, Y/n had disappeared to the empty music room and Chan made his way to his meeting. “Chan! Where’ve you been? We’ve been looking all over for you!” Jisung pants as he came towards him running with Felix on his side. “I wasn’t feeling too well, so I went away for a bit.” Chan lied. “Without saying anything?” Felix asked in confusion. “Yeah, sorry about that but I really didn’t feel too good, I went to the hospital.” Chan added to the lie. “Was it that bad?” Chan would only hum in respond this time. “What did the doctor say?” Jisung asks. “That I was overworked-“ “Doesn’t surprise me.” Jisung laughed, but in the meantime, Felix was a little suspicious of his friend.

“Dumpling!” Changbin exclaimed happily when Y/n walked through the door of his apartment. He tackled her in a hug and the both ended up falling to the ground. “Well hello to you too Binnie.” She giggled whilst hugging him back.

The two would talk about their day, Y/n didn’t wanted Changbin to know about her little skipping-date with Chan just yet, because she wanted to see first from Chan’s side how committed her was to getting to know her. And besides that, she knew her best friend would become whiny and jealous whenever she talked about someone other than him.

“I have some good news!” Changbin chirped as the two fell down on the big sofa in the living area. “What is it?” She asked with big eye of expectation whilst drinking her tea. “My cousin is getting married!” “Your cousin from Japan?” She asked him excitedly and started to squeal happily when her best friend nodded in responds.

The two had bet since his cousin started to date this beautiful Japanese woman, who he was too scared of confessing his love to. The two would watch and listen to the whole journey as if it was a tv soap, feeling very involved into the journey as they heard his mother talk to her sister on the phone about Changbin’s cousin. And now finally after years of him going after this girl, and dating her for two years, they finally are getting married.

“When is the wedding?” Y/n asks with still ecstatic and glister to be found in her eyes, whilst Changbin’s dropped. “It’s in two weeks.” Changbin states, making Y/n sit back in shock. “Wow, he got that wedding arranged fast.” “He’s rich and he couldn’t wait to be married to the love of his life, those things can make a lot happen.” Changbin chuckled, still in disbelief of his cousin’s actions. “Well, when are you leaving to Japan?” She asks him, not feeling the tension surrounding them. “That’s the thing, because my cousin is rich and because he hasn’t seen us, and the rest of the family in a long time, he had invited us over to stay there for a month in Japan-“ “A month!” Y/n exclaimed. “I know, it’s a long time.” “When are you leaving?” She asked carefully, thinking that she could maybe book a cheap hotel to stay away from home, but she might need to safe up for it. “In two days.” He whispers, making Y/n’s world turn upside down.

She could feel herself panic a little. She had no money to stay somewhere else. Changbin wouldn’t be there by her side to comfort her, he wouldn’t be there to take care of her and he was used to his presents after two years of being best friends together, she didn’t know how to miss him.

“I know what you’re thinking and don’t worry. First take a deep breath, I don’t want you hyperventilating.” He chuckled slightly as he scooted a little closer to bring her into his muscular arms.

“I talked to my parents and they also didn’t wanted you to be back ‘home’, so we decided to let you stay here. We’ll give you a spare key and since you know the area and the passcode to the apartment it would be fine-“ “I can’t do that, that’s too much.” “Y/n, please take the offer. I would feel horrible at the fact that we couldn’t have let you stay here where it is safe. I don’t want you to be hurt, okay? This way I can sleep soundly when I’m away from you.” Changbin explained as he brushed his hand through Y/n’s hair. “I-“ “When you’re coming here, take a different route to it every day. Just to be safe. We both know what your father is capable of. If you have to be ‘home’, only do it in the morning. When you leave that place it would be in daylight and I feel like people do less fucked up thing when people could actually see them happening.” Changbin sighed as he hugged her a little tighter.

“Thank you, Binnie.” She softly sobbed into his shoulder, feeling very grateful and blessed to have such a great friend like him in her life. It gave her the feeling that life was worth living for just a little bit, because people like Changbin restored her faith in humanity inside of her.

Later that afternoon the two went out for dinner, that the both argued to pay for, which Changbin shot the ‘with what money’ whenever she stated to pay for all of it. He would, as usual, burst into laughter and receive a pouty sulk from his best friend, who then would take a sad bite of the pizza.

The pair would laugh and have a great time together. They would talk about new tattoo projects, music lyrics and melody inspiration ideas. “I swear! Crunch up some old leaves this fall and make a remix of it! It could become a hit!” She said in a serious tone, but Changbin could only laugh at her wild and creative ideas. “I don’t know where you get them from, but I surely do love them.” He said as he tried to catch his breath after his fit of laughter.

Later they would walk back to Changbin’s apartment, chatting and laughing away as usual, until Changbin received a phone call from someone named ‘Yongbokkie’. Y/n had never heard of him, but shrugged if off since it was none of her business anyway.

“…no I’m already out. Yeah, I’m with someone already. Maybe next time I’m around. I’ll be gone for a while since we’re going to Japan. I’ll see you then when I’m back. Bye!” She heard her best friend say before hung up and made the device disappear into his pocket.

“Do you have to be somewhere?” She asked him. “Nope, you have all my attention.” He grinned before entering the apartment complex to play some video games in is room.

“Binnie?” Y/n later that evening asked. “Yes?” He responds, whilst his eyes are still glued on the game they were playing together, or well he was at least. Y/n died in the first ten minutes.

“Do you feel like I keep you away from others?” The sadness in her tone got his attention and deliberately let his character die, so he could talk with his best friend. “Where is that question suddenly coming from?” He asked her, now facing her. “I don’t know, you always make time for me. It makes me wonder if you think that I’m clingy or something. That I keep you busy or away from other people who you want to hang out with.” “Let me tell you something. That’s not true at all. I want to be around you. You’re my best friend! I love being around you. You haven’t heard this from me, but I think I am a little whipped for you.” He whispered with a smug smile, making her burst out in laughter.

“I love being around you too.” She mutters whilst hugging him tiredly. “Good, because now. Stop sucking at this game and let’s kick someone’s ass!”

Days passed by quicker than Y/n wanted them to.

Right now she was at the airport to send her best friend off to Japan. They had been clinging onto each other like koalas, making his parents and his sister chuckle at their cuteness.

Y/n wanted to be around him as much as she could, before she had to survive a whole month without Changbin, in Changbin’s apartment. How crazy is that?

“I’m going to miss you.” She sighed sadly as she hugged him, it almost being time for him to board his plane. “I’m just a sea away. You can call me whenever. Especially since Hyunjin is probably going to hire temporary staff. You need to keep me updated on those, there’s always some kind of tea to spill when it comes to those.” Changbin laughed to lift the mood.

As they hugged their goodbyes for the last time, Changbin would disappear with his family in the crowd and Y/n would make her way back to the apartment, riding a cab home.

When she walked in, she felt weird of not having some kind of living presence in her best friend’s place she was so used to. Y/n decided to clean up a little before she made herself at home. She was going to live there for a month after all. She still couldn’t thank his parents, and Changbin himself of course, for entrusting her to stay at their home.

Two and a half hours later she received a videocall from Changbin, to tell that they had arrived safely. “I was sat next to this older man and he smelled so bad. I wanted to throw myself out of the plane.” Changbin whined, making his best friend laugh. “Are you laughing at my agony?” He asked ‘hurt’. “Always.” She joked, making him gasp dramatically.

“What are you doing later?” “I have another tutoring session.” Y/n sighed. “Well shit, that guy really has you busy every day, huh?” “Tell me about it.” “And besides that? Or don’t you know yet?” Changbin asked. “Probably, playing around on your keyboard, but that’s it. I cleaned up a little already.” “You know we already did that earlier, right?” “I know, but I usually am already a mess so I got to clean that shit up.” She joked making Changbin burst out in laughter.

“I got to go for now. I will call you later tonight, okay?” “That’s fine. Have fun there! By the way, say hi to your cousin for me!” “Will do! Bye Dumpling!” “Bye Binnie!”

To say that Y/n was bored out of her mind without Changbin was an understatement. She could die from boresome right now. She wondered how she used to survive without Changbin in her life. She missed his stupid dad jokes and his teasing insults.

She played around on his keyboard for a while, but failed to be motivated at it, so she decided to clean up the little mess Changbin had left behind on his desk.

There were papers laying everywhere and she thought it would be nice of her to organise them for when he comes back. Most of them being music sheets and lyrics scrabbles randomly on multiple papers, were probably needed and used in the future.

“’Wow’?” Y/n muttered to herself as she came across a paper with lyrics written on it. She chuckled to herself at the text and quickly put it away before she lost more braincells to the madness she called Changbin’s mess that turned out to be a lot more work than she anticipated it to be.

It did help her to pass time though. Before she knew it, she was back at it again in the library, waiting for Chan to arrive. When he did, he smelled like chlorine again, indicating that he just came back from the pool. “Sorry, I’m late again.” He mutters tiredly. “It’s okay, did you had to dodge your little fans again?” She joked, he only shot her a fake smile before diving into the books with her.

The two were both tired and the motivation was faint. Y/n was throwing little paper balls to his head to amuse herself. When he sighed and went to play the game along with her, they started to laugh together and forget about their tutoring session. As they played, they tried to catch each other’s crumbled papers in the air and Y/n had to keep in mind that her arms were badly bruised and that her hoodie, which was actually Changbin’s, had to stay in place.

Chan had a feeling that he knew the hoodie, as Y/n fumbled with the fabric.

‘It’s from a store smartass, multiple people could have bought it.’ He said to himself, before brushing the subject of his mind.

In the end, the two got hungry again during their tutoring session and decided to skip it for today and go out to eat again at the convenience store. This time, Chan was the one to grab a basket and told Y/n to pick out a spot. This time she went outside, since it was nice and warm and she wanted to watch the sunset.

When Chan returned with a tray full of food, the two started to eat. Whilst doing so, Y/n had noticed the change in Chan’s behaviour. 

‘Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.’

It started Monday at school. The two would cross each other in the hallways smiling, waving and even greeting each other whenever they saw the other. Chan had noticed as well that Y/n seemed to have gotten less into trouble. Which he honestly was glad about, he was tired of scolding her.

Little did Chan know it was because Y/n didn’t had to face her father all day and got to stay at Changbin’s luxurious apartment.

The teachers were praising Chan for his ‘accomplishments’ on toning her down and how he was such a great helper. Y/n seemed to be slowly passing her classes thanks to him. Which he of course was glad about, but he wasn’t listening at all when the adults were talking to him. He was trying to figure out with himself how he could spend extra time with her. He had to admit to himself that he liked being around her. She was very easy going and nice to talk to. She also has a lovely appearance to look at, so Chan wasn’t complaining about his tutoring sessions, anymore.

It was now Wednesday and Chan had sneaked out of his classroom, claiming he had to be somewhere, before he made his way to Y/n’s classroom, which was packed. When he stepped into the room, all eyes were on his. Including Y/n’s, who looked at him confused. “Can I steal Y/n for a moment?” Chan asked the teacher politely, which was an older woman who was smitten for Chan to be honest. And she of course let him. “What’s up?” Y/n asks him when she stood with him alone in the hallways. “Can we meet up after my swim session?” Chan asks, which got her bamboozled.

Was that why he picked her out of class? Couldn’t he had texted her- no he couldn’t they hadn’t exchanged numbers yet, somehow.

“Yeah sure.” She said unsure of his weirdly behaviour. She had her hand rested on the doorknob, the door slightly open as Chan said: “I’ll see you later then.” A slight smirk laid on his lips before he walked off again.

Little did the two know that the whole class heard Chan say that he will see her later. Everyone started to suspect the relationship between the two, which wasn’t in existent, except a platonic one. Sooyun, who was also in Y/n’s current class was fuming with anger.

‘Why would her Channie see her later?’ 

She didn’t think that they would become that close, since she heard the ‘rumour’, which eventually turned out to be the truth, that Chan was tutoring Y/n in her free time. She felt jealous that Chan made more time for that ‘tramp’ instead of her.

‘That’s why he hasn’t come for dinner.’ Sooyun mutters to herself before she huffs once again and started to glare at Y/n, whilst thinking of a plan to win her man back. When the school bell rang, she got it.

She walked up to the teacher with big eyes and a pout on her lips. “Miss, I’m having a lot of trouble with these past chapters lately…”

Y/n fumbled with her fingers as she made her way to the school’s public pool. The smell of chlorine filled her senses, making her eyes water a little as she entered the pool area. There were multiple people swimming swiftly, racing against each other.

She could spot Chan almost immediately. His shoulders were broader than the other’s and his skin was the palest out of all of them. She decided to watch them as they finished edge near her feet. Chan took his goggles off and looked up to her with a bright smile. “You came!” Chan chirped before pushing himself up on the edge of the pool. Her eyes couldn’t help but wander off his figure. His muscular figure caught a lot of eyes, they always said. And now Y/n knew why. His toned chest and abs were almost in her face, making it hard for her not to look down at just shamelessly stare at them.

Chan knew what he was doing and what kind of affect it, usually, had on people, most of them being girls. Y/n played it cool and acted unbothered, which surprised Chan. Most people would flirt a little or at least be flustered, yet here she was, acting like it was nothing to her.

“You wanted to talk about something?” She asks.

He was yet again surprised by her reaction. He started to stutter like he did many times before at her confidence. Felix oversaw the whole thing. He saw how his friend got flustered and started to act like a fool. When Chan had walked away from Y/n, Felix asked him what that was all about.

“I’m hanging out with her.” Was all that Chan would say to his friend before quickly hopping into the showers.

“You suck!” Y/n yelled in victory as she smashed Chan’s ass at the game, they were playing in the Internet café where they were sat. “You’re so good at this what the hell.” Chan exclaimed in shock, whilst Y/n proudly flipped her hair off her shoulder, making Chan laugh along. “My bestie taught would be proud.” “Did she teach you?” “Yes, he taught me well.” She giggled when Chan’s face stiffened in embarrassment. “Sorry I assumed-“ “It’s okay. Do you dare to go for another round?” “Oh! Watch me!” Chan said confident before picking up the controller again.

“Oh stop sulking.” Y/n teases as Chan paid for their food. “I can’t believe you beat me. I’m usually a pro when I play with my friends.” Chan whined. “Well, that just means they suck more at the game than you already do.” She giggled whilst sticking her tongue playfully out to him.

The two would sit across each other in silence for a while as they ate their ice cream.

“You know, I don’t know about you, but this kind of felt like a date to me. And I know that it probably isn’t, I just wanted to say that it does feel like one, or at least I think so.” Y/n chuckled. “You think so? Or you know so?” “What?” “If this feels like a date or not?” Chan explained. “Oh, I think so. I honestly have never been on a date before.” She admitted softly in embarrassment.

“Really?” Chan asked genuinely surprised. Y/n only shook her head in responds to confirm her own statement. “Well, then I will take the responsibly to take you out on an official date. Just as friends though, but I will give you the ‘real’ experience.” Chan’s mouth spoke for him before his brain could process it. He felt his heart speed up and his hands sweat.

“I beg your pardon?” “Let me take you out, so you can have the actual experience. What do you have to lose?” Chan grinned as he looked at the flustered girl in front of him. “Alight, but under one condition.” “Which is?” “No kissing.” “Fine by me.” Chan winked whilst still grinning.

The night ended happy and Y/n made her way home with a grin stuck on her face. She walked an extra long route so she could enjoy the fresh air and the lingering feeling of happiness a little longer, but that soon was to be spoiled when a heavy familiar voice boomed through the streets and called out her name.

She sighed and grasped herself to get ready for what was coming next. Which she sadly knew all too well.

Gif Isn’t mine.

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