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notnctu · 4 years

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to jeno, my orientation leader ♡

To All The J’s I’ve Loved Before Series by notnctu ♡ lee jeno x fem!reader ♡ genre - fluff ♡ wc - 1.5k ♡ warnings - n/a ♡ synopsis - in which you bump into the sugary sweet orientation leader, who you were so love struck for back in your first year ♡ taglist - @colpen ; @cestmoncoeur ; @hyucksberry ; @whorefortaeyong ; @jaeismytamtation ; @lexiluness ♡ a/n - sorry, but it didn’t let us tag some of you guys?? pls make sure your blog is visible to searches in order to get tagged !! let us know if you want to be on the taglist for the next ones!

Jeno,

This just seems ridiculous. I know that I’m a hopeless romantic and I know I fall easily, but of all the people in the world? You, my orientation leader.

Lee Jeno, 2nd year Computer Science major, uses him/his pronouns. I will never forget your hesitant wave, small smile, and way your eyes rose into crescents. I knew I had fallen for that eye smile immediately.

I’m pretty sure I made it obvious too, I was practically floating around you, doe-eyed to everything you did, and flustered whenever you said my name even if it was just for checking if the whole group was there.

Watching you walk around campus, passionately and happily explaining all the quirks of the campus, I wondered how going on a date with you would be like. I could imagine how excited you would be looking at the variety of flavors in an ice cream parlor. I even wondered if we would have the same favorite, though you do seem like you’d like strawberry over chocolate.

And of course, I made it worse by spilling my water all over you during lunch. You got up and just laughed, reassuring me that it wasn’t a big deal and it was just water but I was too embarrassed and flustered trying to find napkins. Yet, even though you were the one that got their pants wet, you still handed me a napkin.

My heart was going to burst out of my chest and it was so hard to stop every atom in my body to just run away in embarrassment.

Though this mindless, thoughtless crush only lasted maybe no more than two days, I still shoved my face into the pillow at night, giggling at how sugary sweet you made me feel, dreaming about how you would be like.

I wished that you were thinking about me into your pillow too.

-from the shy first year in your orientation group, y.n

It wasn’t everyday that you passed through the center of campus on a Wednesday. Wednesdays were when the clubs, fraternities and sororities boothed, bugging every student they saw to join their organization. But today, you were late for class and the fastest way to your lecture hall was through the courtyard.

With your earbuds on, you tried to blend and rush through the crowds, but so frequently students were chatting with their friends, creating walls. Getting annoyed, you tried your best to weave through. When someone suddenly swerves, you find yourself swinging to the left only to crash into someone else.

You start wobbling backwards, not able to fully regain balance, prepared to fall until someone else’s back bounces you onto your feet.

“Oh my bad, are you okay?” The quiet voice behind you asked.

Turning around, ready to apologize for your own clumsiness you face the dainty sweet eyes you haven’t thought about since first year.

Lee Jeno, second year - well now third year, computer science major, him/his. You could never forget his orientation introduction, it was the first thing he said to you. He made you forget everything, all the words you learned throughout your entire lifespan, the direction of your lecture, even how to breathe.

Now though, his jawline had become sharper and his shoulders definitely got broader. He was still reserved, but he wasn’t as shaky and nervous as before. Though he didn’t change much, the changes were subtle in the way he held himself. Shy, but comfortable with himself and everything around him. He wasn’t exactly the same as he was during orientation, but he was still similar, he had just grown up.

The letter you wrote comes into your mind. The sour sweet feelings repeat in your head, heart, and hands. You remember sighing at how fast your second letter came, disappointed in your hopeless romantic self for needing to write a letter before you even officially started college. At the same time, the sugary sweetness that he left as you wrote it still made your heart whirl.

“You okay?” he sounds concerned as he asks again, interrupting your thoughts. Realizing that you have been spacing out to his face for the past two minutes, you clear your throat.

“I-uh, yea!” Finding your voice again, hoping it doesn’t sound as skippy as it did in your head. “I’m sorry, I was just in a ru-”

“Oh my god, aren’t you, from my orientation group back in second year- oh well, I mean your first year or I guess even before that.” His eye smile starts growing as he rambles, causing the butterflies to flutter against your stomach more than they already had.

How could he possibly remember you? He had at least eight groups of 15 first years, how could he possibly remember you. You try to stop your eyes from widening and your cheeks from flushing, but his perfect laugh signals that he definitely saw your hesitation.

“I could never forget my first orientation group,” He nervously rubs the back of his neck. “I remember dreading the first day, I was so nervous.”

“Haha I think I was more nervous than you were.” You chuckled, completely abandoning the urgent lecture you had trading it for the conversation you two were having that was already far more words you both exchanged a year ago.

“Maybe,” he laughs. “Starting college is always a weird thing, it’s fun to start something fresh and new, but also so scary because it means change.”

Unable to form a response, you can tell that he also doesn’t know what to say next. The silence becomes unbearable, both of you wanting to say more, but unsure if the other wants to hear it.

“Uhm, care to join Uncief?” His shy eyes look away as he hands you the flyer.

You just laugh, remembering his awkward but soft personality. As you take the flyer, you remember taking the napkin from his hand when you spilled the water all over him.

You know that him handing you the flyer was just his job, but you can’t help but feel yourself regaining the warm feeling you had when you brush fingertips. It still felt like he was being kindhearted and considerate like he was with the napkin. The same burst of your heart in your chest replays, as if there were fireworks.

You wonder if he felt the sparks too.

Even now, your small but forceful crush on him still runs mindlessly through your head. He still sent electricity through your veins. His eyes still melted into yours, you still swore you saw the entire galaxy in them.

His shy, but kindhearted soul, even if you were just imagining it, still shined. The thought of him was just as prominent as it was during orientation.

“I’ll think about it,” You smile, but his sunshine laugh can tell that you probably won’t sign up or attend meetings.

“You should come to the meeting, we give out free pizza for the first two,” His voice raised a little, trying to convince you to come. “Or at least come hang out with me.”

You almost choke on your breath, surprised that he had asked you to hang out with him. You can’t tell if this is just something he says to everyone he flyers, or if he genuinely wanted to see you another time but that doesn’t stop the somersaults from swinging in your stomach.

Your mind roams to the idea of dating him again. Sharing a pizza together in the middle of big green fields on the campus - it just seemed so perfect. It didn’t seem so impossible to go on cute dates in between classes, studying together in the library, giggling during each other's lectures. Even though your thoughts were completely mindless and based on the little to no interactions you’ve had together, it seemed like a possible reality, not just a fantasy.

But his entire being was a fantasy. He really could be a dream in real life. His delicate eyes, soft lips, caring personality, kind soul. You never thought it was possible to meet someone who possessed everything you would ever want in someone.

“But actually, Unicef looks great on resumes and we do a lot of volunteer work too,” He points to the flyer for you, leaning in closer to you and snapping you out of your daydream. You try not to hold your breath with the proximity decreasing between the two of you. “And the people are actually pretty genuine and fun, even if it just sounds like a nerd org, I mean hey, I’m still in the club.”

“O-okay, I will genuinely think about it.” You finally make eye contact with him which he returns with his signature crescents.

“Alright, I won’t bother you anymore,” He smiles, placing a hand on your shoulder, looking you directly in the eyes. “It was nice seeing you again y.n, I hope you’re not spilling water on people still.”

You stand there in shock, not expecting him to ever remember your name. He sends you one last chuckle as he walks back to his booth.

You grip the flyer as if it was gonna slip through your fingers, just like Jeno had. You knew it was naive, but you hoped that the small shy smile that lingered on his face as he started chatting with the other members was because of you.

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

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we fell in love in October

A/N: this was requested by anon, I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think!

Summary: One where the reader and Ben were together in high school and left Derry together and when they come back they are married and everyone is surprised to see them still together

A phone call that your entire adult life is based on stacks of self-imagined and wrongful placed memories is best not received in a an overseas, foreign country with your husband ten thousand miles away. The trip it selves originally lasted no more than five days, but after Mike’s ring, you cut it short and immediately booked a flight destination Derry Maine after two.

It was a work trip meant to educate you on all the new techniques and information you missed out on during your two year hiatus, and the company you represented, Thomas Cook, is an English company, so England was the best place for you to learn.

You and Ben had been away from each other every once in a while, so neither of you made it a big deal to spend a few days apart, but Ben nor you expected the phone call that shook both of to your core.

Following a meeting on etiquette, you returned to your hotel room for the night, unlocking your phone and noticing that you missed a few of ben’s calls. That was odd, considering Ben always patiently awaits for you to initiate contact so he wouldn’t ever interrupt you in case you’re busy.

You were planning on returning the call the moment you arrived in the privacy of your room, when another person tried to contact you, and this time it wasn’t someone you recognized. The number came from Derry, and although that name sounded vaguely familiar, you couldn’t pinpoint an exact memory to place it.

Thinking that it might have been an assistant reaching out to you, you picked up the phone and listened as the elevator slowly rose floor above floor, trickling painstakingly slower than a snail, and making little bump noises at every level.

The only other person in the elevator with you, a coworker, swore to never reveal the undignified yelp you let out as Mike reintroduced himself to you, claiming to be one of your childhood best friend and begging you to come home to aid in another battle.

It clicked then why Ben never let up the constant stream of messages and bells, and why you always felt like you knew since the beginning of your life, because you had.

Every new thing Mike explained to you solidified itself in stone, as real as the clothes you wore and the floor you stood on. The name pennywise revolted you, every hair on your body standing up in high alert as a fight or flight reaction, transporting you back the summer you turned thirteen years old and an inhuman thing haunted your nightmares and your daily life.

By the end of the call, you craved Ben’s calming presence and his sweet nothing whispers he shook out of his sleeve at times you dreamed of shadows curling up your form and pulling you down to the deepest pits of despair with futile strength.

It made sense now why you blanched every time someone asked you where you and Ben met, or how long you two had been dating before marrying in a forest Ben decorated with fairy lights and flowers that sprouted a smell so delicious you caught a few guest sneaking them with them at the end.

‘Mike?’, You asked right before he launched into another aspect of his story. Part of you felt immensely sad, at the idea of Mike staying behind in Derry, helpless to do anything as you all forgot and moved on, but another part of you couldn’t care less at the moment, talking to Ben the only thing you knew would calm you down.

‘Yeah Y/N?’

‘Did you speak to Ben yet?’ In a way, you knew the answer. The none stop flood wouldn’t exist if he didn’t, but as long as an ounce of doubt remained, you were not picking up.

‘Yeah, I talked to him. Wait, you remember him?’

In a not so proud moment, you ended the connection abruptly, and pressed the icon next to Ben’s name, his contact photo one you snapped when he designed the new home and proudly presented it to you as a surprise.

An answer came at once, before the first ring even echoed, the breathing down the other line harsh and brisk.

‘Y/N, thank god. Are you okay?’ His deep, sturdy voice anchored you back to real life, a tranquility that he somehow always possessed reducing your stress levels.

‘I’m fine honey. I’m fine, are you?’ It’s a throw away question for sure, since Ben would do anything in his power to let you remain sane, and expressing his own worries is not part of that plan. Not being able to be there for your husband when the world is tilted up its head is killing you.

‘Sweets, don’t worry about me, worry about you. I can fly over to England tonight if that’s of any use.’

Frankly, getting to Ben and sifting through the confusing onslaught of emotions and recollections with him lists higher on your priority list above everything else, but you can’t do that to the others.

‘No, Ben listen to me.’ Your voice remains flat and drained of anything other than firmness, a benefit of working with customers you have required over the years. Freak out postponed ‘till you dragged your suitcase from terminal to terminal, for you had to arrange plans first.

Ben would most likely think with his heart and prefer to be around you, but by the time he would land in England and the two you transfer to another plane, the other losers – you named each other that if you recall correctly – may be dead.

‘Book a flight to Derry, and I’ll do the same. I won’t travel as fast as you, so assure the others that I’m on my way.’

‘But Y/N’, Ben protested, his desire to protect you standing in the way of common sense, god you adore this man.

‘Ben please,’ a droplet of tears drip on your cheek, confronting you with the realization that you cried.

‘Okay,’ Ben gives in, the displeasement out in the open, but listening to you none the less.

---

The old clubhouse is not as hard to find as you originally thought, the way to the spot from your old house purely muscle memory that allows you to pinpoint the exact location.

You know the reunion of the losers already transpired yesterday, Ben updating you throughout the night, but your flight only touched base this morning. Derry is an old town with reception towers spaced out and far apart, resulting in barely any communication between you and Ben.

The Derry-Inn was exempt, and so the next best guess as to where they could be was that the losers retreated to the one place radiating with love and untainted by the dirty hands of the towns curse.

The hushed talking under the hatch prove you right, and a smile carefully pokes through the bland face you’ve sported for two days, and regardless of how crazy it might seem, a blanket of safeness falls upon you, creating a barrier between you and the problems about to head on your path.

You reach down to rattle the hatch, a warning that you’re coming down to the others, and the swing it upon, dust flying in your face in such a huge amount it suffocates you. While coughing, your hand flags away the excess dust swarming around you, gulping down breathes of fresh air.

The leader creaks under your weight, but surprisingly you’re not required to bow down to fit into the clubhouse, a comfortable height for you to ease into.

You misjudge the last step, losing your footing and tumbling down the last two trads with a yap at the pain radiating from your feet up your leg, falling down faster than you should have.

Richie shrieks in fear, jumping several steps away from his spot under the stairs to hide behind Mike, the entire losers club swiftly glancing at you.

‘Ha’, Eddie exclaims once his brain catches up to his sight and he apprehends its you. ‘That’s what you get fucker, that’s karma.’

‘Yeah? Was it karma when I fucked your wife as good as I fucked your mom?’ Richie inquires, smirking at the reaction Eddie provides him.

‘That’s fucking disgusting and not the definition of karma by the way.’

‘You guys are clearly still the same’, you mutter, forgoing the pain and observing the interaction between the two best friends.

‘Y/N’, Bev breathes, approaching you with a pep in her step and halting in front of you, allowing you to close the distance and embrace the girl that you forget about yet missed so dearly.

With most of the losers here, it’s hard to grasp that you ever omitted them, for they colored your childhood in so many ways and are intermittent with the person you are today.

Ben shuffles closer too, but waits forbearance so Bev can take her time. The other losers greet you with a smile and a far-off hello, happy to see you again after so long. After Bev stops hugging you and walks away to further explore the shelter, Ben stoops in and kisses you with a short and soft peck. He’s always respectful of you, to the point he usually won’t kiss you in public so you’re comfortable, but this is an exception.

‘Ben, man didn’t you claim to have married someone?’ Richie wonders aloud and gaps at the two of you, resembling a fish out of water.

‘Yes’, you drag out, confusion lilting your words, ‘we are.’ The losers pause, including Mike, the wheels turning in their head to process the new information.

‘You guys got m-m-married?’ Bill questions, his eyes sparkling with happiness for his friends, all the times he psyched Ben up so he gained the courage to ask you out on a date in high school.

‘Yeah for two years now’, Ben proudly proclaims, resting his hand on the small of your back to stable himself and hide the way he falters when everyone zero’s in on him.

‘In October. Ben arranged the whole thing in the woods with a fairy tale theme.’ You nearly add that it was perfect, but that’s a lie. Something was missing that day, like a stubborn smudge you tried very hard to remove yet remained. You never shared it with Ben, because he thought of every detail and ever speck to a T, and by all means it should’ve been flawless. Maybe that smudge was the insistent memory of your friend not being there to support you like you wished they were. Despite not sharing your concern with Ben, you wonder if he experienced the same thing and was afraid to inform you.

‘Wait, do I remember this wrong or did you guys start dating in October too?’ Bev quizzes.

You peer up at Ben for guidance, but he comes across just as clueless as you. It could very well be, and looking back on it, the two of you did instantly reach a consensus about the date of the wedding. Perhaps the remnants of your childhood manifested in the date, and if they did, the next anniversaries will be extra special than so far.

Right now, it’s essential your focus lays elsewhere, like in how to defeat IT for good this time, so no other lives are cut short because of an intergalactic demon.

Ben links your hands together, a tight grip that lets you know he’s right beside you, and he’s not going anywhere. The two of you together are equipped for anything.

#ben hanscom #ben x reader #x reader #My writing #adult losers #ben hanscom imagine #adult Ben Hanscom #the loser club imagines #it chapter two imagine #Ben Hanscom x reader

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dibidibifiction · 4 years

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Criminal In My Mind: Chapter 11

Warning: foul language

Pairing: Choi Minho x Reader Word count: 1.7k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction made for personal entertainment of readers. The writer does not ever intend to offend her readers nor does she aim to spread false information about anyone as to pay any disrespect to the real-life persons whom the characters are based on. She also does not claim ownership to any of the images that are being used.

masterlist Chapter 10

Y/N

I can’t get Minho out of my head. I’m still stuck to that night and it’s already been almost two days. I got snapped out from daydreaming by four customers today. Dear God, what is happening to me? I’ve slept with a bunch of hot guys in college but none of them made me like an idiot. I may sinfully sound like a lady pervert but I’m still crying for his abs. And, shit, that ass? It’s to fucking die for. I still involuntarily picture him getting up from the covers of my bed and walk around the room to look for his clothes. Trust me, I was going to help him but I just got distracted.

“Y/n Noona,” Taemin suddenly appears next to me, putting a finger in my ear which frightened me.

“What the hell are you doing?” I scratch my ear. “What do you want?”

He sighs. “I was telling you about the deliveries for tomorrow but…” He then looks at me suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. “Did something happen?” he asks me.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“That’s okay, Minho Hyung already told me anyway.”

“What?!” I yell at him, widening my eyes in surprise. “He’s already telling people? What is he thinking?”

“That was a joke,” he says. “I was just guessing.”

I stare at him, my jaw dropping in awe. “Oh. Uh… Well-”

“Holy shit,” he puts his hand over his mouth. “So something really has already happened between you two!” he starts teasing me, laughing like a crazy person, and runs around the room, making sex noises.

“Will you fucking stop that!” I chase him then jump at him to wrap my arm around his neck and bend down, squeezing his head. “How do you like that now, huh, Lee Taemin?”

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop, I’ll stop! Let go,” he is still laughing but starting to choke.

While the room is full of our screams and laughter, I hear the door chime from behind us. “Sorry, we’re already clo-”

I suddenly let go of Taemin when I see it’s Minho who has walked in. “Oh, hey, Minho.”

“Hey, you ready?” he says, looking at me and then at Taemin.

Awkward silence.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I walk to the counter to pick up my shoulder bag and put on my jacket. “Close up for me, Taemin. We’re going!”

I grab Minho’s hand and pull him with me as we step outside the flower shop.

He leads me to the passenger door of his car and opens it for me to get in. He proceeds around to the other side and gets in as well. He stares at me with his beautiful sparkling eyes.

“What?” I say, smiling back at him.

“Nothing. I think I just missed you,” he tells me before he touches my chin then leans in to kiss my lips.

The night is just beginning but I’m already feeling too much bliss in my heart.

Minho is taking me to a restaurant all the way across town where it’s difficult to make a reservation at only an hour’s notice but I guess his mother made some calls for us. I’m not quite into fancy restaurants and would rather have some pork belly barbeque and soju but I don’t mind it tonight since I’m going out with the sexiest man alive. It’s like a sin to resist him in my religion.

After the waiters place our food on the table, I look around the place and the people on the other tables wearing at least semi-formal attires. I really think I’m underdressed for this. But then again, I look at Minho and all my worries just go away. I mean, he’s not dressed formally either and he looks fine in that dark blue blouson jacket. I mean so fine.

“Hey, you okay? Do you want to go to another place to eat?” he asks me thoughtfully.

“No, no, it’s fine. The steak looks great,” I say, reassuring him.

So we start eating our dishes as we have a very pleasant conversation talking about his work in photography, which makes his eyes light up even more, and my college days with Kibum and Jonghyun Oppa.

“Kibum only went to the club with me twice, both times he threw up,” I tell him, making him laugh. “During the first time was when he met his fiancé. I don’t know if he knows this but I might’ve drunkenly hit on Jonghyun Oppa that night.”

Minho continues to chuckle as he just listens and carries on eating.

“They started going out after that time, but according to Kibum, they weren’t exclusive then. So the second time I brought him along to party, he went home with a girl by the end of the night.”

“No. Really?” he says as his eyes widen before taking another bite of his food.

“That’s not the catch yet. It wasn’t till the babies were born when we found out that the girl had them.”

Minho suddenly coughs then takes his glass of water. “Sorry.”

I start laughing as well. “You okay?”

“What did you mean when you said ‘babies’?”

“Oh, Kibum and the girl had boy twins.”

He is still coughing. “Oh, shit, no offense to him but I didn’t see him being a dad. And to a pair of twins at that.”

“I know, that’s what I thought too. Even he thought that he wasn’t ready. But in the end, he stood by what happened and took the boys with him since the girl refused to.”

“How did Jonghyun take it?”

“He was devastated. He stopped talking to me too. They hit a rough patch but eventually worked it out and Jonghyun now loves the kids as his own.

“Good for them,” he cheers on, clearing his throat. “You know, I always wondered how my mom felt when she decided to take me in, a seventeen-year-old. And she was so young back then,” he openly tells me.

“Are you kidding? She looks so young even now,” I interrupt. “Did you ever ask her that?”

“She just always told me that I changed her life. She never thought she could care so much for a kid since she never even planned to have a family of her own.”

I nod along as I listen to him wholeheartedly. I love the expression on his face whenever he talks about his mom. I could see a little vulnerability in him so naturally. He doesn’t try to hide it at all.

“Anyway, I already told her about us going out and she said it’ll be lovely to meet you,” he informs me.

Now it’s my turn to choke on my food. I’m coughing so hard my throat starts to hurt.

“You okay? It’s fine, I won’t let you meet her if you’re not ready of course,” he says, touching my hand on the table as comfort.

“No, no,” I apologize before I take a sip of my water. “I won’t mind it. I’d be thrilled to meet her, too, of course. It’s just I’ve never met a guy’s parent before since I never felt so serious in a relationship. Well, I met Jinki’s mom, but that was way after we dated.”

“Oh, I understand. I had pretty serious relationships before that lasted months. I also told my mom about them but I introduced only one of them and she didn’t quite like her. Sorry I surprised you, I just got excited that my mom already likes you even if she hasn’t met you yet.”

“How does that happen?”.

“Must be a mother’s instinct shit,” he says, letting out a soft laugh as he touches my head in admiration.

. . .

Dinner just ended and we’re back in Minho’s car. Time has passed so fast, my heart aches that he’s taking me home already. I don’t want to be apart from him yet but we’re already in my neighborhood.

“Hey, you know, it’s still early. Why don’t we have dessert at the café? On me,” I say, thinking how I’d love to eat dessert off his abs. I fold my lips together as I feel my face burning from the thought.

“Hmm,” he pauses to think. “I don’t think I’m in a mood to eat dessert off of somebody’s body tonight.”

Good God! I know he’s joking but it’s the kind to give me a heart attack.

He doesn’t wait for my reply and just chuckles. “Yeah, sure. I don’t want to go home yet anyway,” he turns his head to me for a second, smiling.

We now pull over at the café’s parking space. Just as I get out of the car, I spot Jinki carrying full garbage bags in both hands.

“Lee Jinki!” I call out as I run to him, Minho following behind me.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asks, wiping sweat with his shoulder.

“Let me help you with those, Hyung,” Minho tells him as he takes one of the bags. “Where are the others? Isn’t this supposed to be their job?”

“They had a party to get to so I just let them be. I’m okay,” Jinki replies.

“Wait, since when are you two close enough for one to be called ‘Hyung’?” I’m surprised by their interaction.

“At least someone is decent enough to call me that, acknowledging that I’m older than them,” he glares at me.

“Well, it’s not my fault you don’t look older. To me, you’re just a baby!”

“Wait, your baby?” he says before putting down the huge bag then gives me a wink.

“Hyung, you know I respect you and all but don’t flirt with your ex,” Minho joins in. “Oh, wait, no. Don’t flirt with my girlfriend!”

“Sorry, force of habit,” Jinki shrugs. I’m starting to think I’m being ganged up on by these two. “What is going on here? You guys are starting to freak me out.”

They just burst out laughing at me.

“Come on inside, guys,” Jinki offers.

“Are you sure it’s okay? I mean you’re already closed, Oppa?” I emphasize the word into his ear.

We walk into the empty café and sit at one of the tables near the counter. The night just goes on while the three of us have a perfectly comfortable conversation and share laughs. Eventually, we lose track of time.

Chapter 12

#this chapter got nothing much #but i still hope you like a little chill and fluff #pls feel free to give me feedback #i'd be more than grateful #ktm cimm #ktm cimm c11 #shinee fluff #minho fluff #choi minho fluff #choi minho x reader #minho x reader

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ajaegerpilot · 4 years

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in which i use tumblr like a diary

my dad watched a netflix video on feminism and was being very profeminism thru the lens of humanism about it

and we got on the subject of transphobic feminists bc i was trying to feel out if it was a transphobic documentary but yea he was very like ‘if someone’s not hurting anybody and can’t change who they are you have no right to try to hurt or change them’ etc and i was like ‘yeah, and you might not understand it but ...’ and he interrupted me, saying, that understanding has nothing to do with it, and that yeah he’s 73 but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand everything and he was being a little hyperbolic and defensive because yeah like while he is old and I tend to like hedge my bets about topics we haven’t discussed much, he told me a story about one of his old gay coworkers he had when he was working as a software programmer. about how once they were talking about stuff, probably while eating chicken wings, and he said the man told him that regardless of all the reasons to not be gay or to pretend otherwise, the feeling was real and that that had stuck with my dad. and they all had been chill. and then later there was a potential hire that HR had not wanted because, in coded terms, they said he’d acted qu**r and my dad and some greek guy stuck up for him because they’d liked him, he was honest. during the interview he’d said that he had borrowed the suit he was wearing and when they asked him what his happiest memory was he said him and his partner used to have a bistro in Vancouver where they’d served people and that had made him happy T_T. so my dad and his greek coworker fought for this new hire, and then this new hire and the gay coworker started dating a month or so later T_T and they (incl my dad and other ppl) would all get chickenwings together and chat and shittalk others, and they were all just friends. so my dad was like ‘so don’t tell me i don’t understand’ etc, bc he probably felt patronized but also like we did both cry abt these ppl and how they had just been friends. so anyway my dad says trans rights. and it’s no wonder, because morality and ethics is not a list of values one has to memorize, its a philosophy based on a love for humanity, all the people that make up humanity. if you raise your kid to have, or you choose to make friends/family of people who have, ethics based on love and compassion and affection for human beings, good naturally springs from that.

also today when i was explaining to someone thru email that my dad is getting chemo treatments I cried again like it never becomes less of a big deal for me to tell people, I never get jaded to it.

i ground shark liver into a fine powder and snorted it dissolved it in nitric acid. i showed the powder to one of my labmates and he was like ‘sounds like stuff u’d serve at a fancy resteraunt’ and i was like ‘ye its deconstructed’. really weirdly, the dry powder in HNO3 like... immediately formed a lot of bubbles of like?? idek what - likely because of the production of nitrogen dioxide... but it was super weird looking. the wet digestion (which I hadn’t dried because to dry the shark you have to extract all the oils etc) formed some of those bubbles but not as much - now whether bc there’s less surface area, or if the oils interact some how, or if because despite the extra weight there is less overall meat to dissolve i’m not sure. but yeah, weird.

i also am doing a kind of - paid study session with the university for organic chemistry, and so the toughest organic chemistry professor was forced to compliment me in front of the class >:) i will remember this [redacted]. it’s going to be interesting to try to balance those students, but hopefully it will go well :/ furthermore, because the proff got us all to mute our mics and video, that means i get to like >:) work on other stuff in the background hehe

ALSO. my town is getting smoke from california i believe. the smoke came out so thick today (which like. i kno this means nothing to californians who now live in the 4th circle of hell) that the telephone lines cast a shadow onto the air, the way trees cast stripes of sunlight when the sun is setting behind them ykwim.

#back to diary textposts see this is why i couldnt use twitter.#that said i better like. extract all these posts for when tumblr inevitably shuts down #misha speaks #food m

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nerdypinupcrystal · 5 years

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Every Breath You Take Chapter 7: Reach Out, I’ll Be There

Hiiii guys! Sorry for the long ass wait! School was kicking my ass, but I’m on summer break for a month now so YAY! And I’m back with a nice long chapter for you and man are you guys in for a ride! Btw thank you @hufflebucky for the beautiful moodboard! I love it so much! And thank you @probably-a-velociraptor for the certain line you mentioned in your ask that I just had to put in here! You know which one I’m talking about ;) Without further delay....enjoy!

Masterlist

Chapter 7: Reach Out, I’ll Be There

The men of Nelson & Murdock were both on missions today. While Matt was following Iris to make sure she was safe, Foggy took that opportunity to stop by Sweet Heaven to see a certain stunning brunette he might or might not have already told his mom about.

Foggy Nelson has done his fair share of chasing after women he was attracted to throughout his life, though admittedly not all of those times were successful since beautiful women seemed to flock towards Matt instead. But the moment he laid eyes on Lucy Addams, all those memories of women he chased in the past had erased from his mind. He only had eyes for Lucy, and it appeared the feeling was mutual.

He couldn’t even begin to explain this feeling he had in his heart that was stronger than anything he had ever felt before. Why so sudden for someone he just met? Love at first sight couldn’t possibly exist, right? And with that, Foggy’s heart argued, Why the hell not? Would that really be so wrong?

Whether or not it was love or just attraction, Foggy was determined to get to know the dark haired goddess who runs the adorable bakery that’s quickly becoming his favorite spot.

Which has lead to the present moment where Foggy was currently standing outside of the bakery, seeing the woman of his dreams handing out cupcakes to a couple of excited little kids while their parents paid. Seeing her interact with the kids with a genuine glowing smile on her face made the butterflies in Foggy’s stomach flutter like crazy.

As if feeling his eyes on her, Lucy’s eyes shifted until they met his through the window. Her grey eyes brightened to greyish blue as she brightly grinned at him and waved for him to come in. Foggy couldn’t contain the grin on his face that shined brighter than the sun as his cheeks flushed into a rosy pink. Foggy quickly pulled out his phone to leave Matt a message telling him to meet him at the bakery to talk about a potential client instead of the office. He smoothed back his hair and straightened his tie before entering the bakery to see about a girl.

2 Hours Later

The bakery was empty aside from Foggy and Lucy currently occupying one of the small tables. There laid two half empty porcelain mugs of coffee and hot chocolate as well as an array of different pastries and cakes for Foggy to “sample”, only for him to split between them, always giving Lucy the bigger half.

But those desserts were ignored as the two occupants only had their attention focused on each other, the song “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You” by Frankie Valli playing appropriately in the background.

“What’s your favorite show?” Lucy asked with eager curiosity as she leaned closer to him with a dreamy gaze in her eyes.

Without missing a beat, Foggy replied “I Love Lucy.” It took him a second to snap out of his daze to realize how that might sound. “I mean, not because it’s your name,” he cleared his throat, his face flushing tomato red. “It’s just a great show! My mom had me watch it with her growing up, you’d love her by the way, I already told her about you- I mean, it’s a funny show!” Foggy was trying so hard to save face, he didn’t realize he was babbling.

The melodic sound of Lucy’s giggles stopped him from babbling any further. Foggy felt incredibly embarrassed by his word vomit, but all Lucy did was smile.

“You’re really cute when you get all flustered.” She told him, causing him to blush even harder. “And I love that show. She’s hilarious! And by the way…” She trailed off as she leaned toward him even closer. “I would love to meet your mother, since she’s raised such a fine young man.” She gave a flirtatious wink.

I love you baby And if it's quite alright I need you baby To warm the lonely nights I love you baby Trust in me when I say

Oh pretty baby Don't bring me down I pray Oh pretty baby Now that I've found you stay And let me love you, baby Let me love you

Foggy’s heart raced as the song declared everything he was already dying to say. He took a big gulp of his warm coffee before quickly asking her, “So what’s your favorite show?”

“The Addams Family.” Lucy replied with a smile.

“Really?” Foggy asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

She gingerly nodded. “Yep! I’ve always loved the dark, creepy and kooky stuff. And since my last name also happens to be Addams, I always imagined that I was related to them.” Lucy’s cheeks turned into a light rosy pink. “I love The Munsters too, but Addams Family has always had a special place in my heart.” Lucy’s eyes locked with Foggy as she reached for his hand before she continued, “Plus, I’ve always dreamed of having a love like Gomez and Morticia.”

Oh god, me too. Please let me be your Gomez! Foggy thought.

Before he could respond, however, the bell rang as the door opened. Foggy turned to see who rudely interrupted his time with Lucy, only to see Matt enter the bakery.

“Matt, so nice of you to join us.” Foggy greeted, his mood dampening slightly.

“Don’t sound too excited to see me, Foggy.” Matt sarcastically replied as he took the seat Lucy led him to at their table.

Foggy could see how visibly tense his friend was as he took a good look at him. His body was straight and tiff from tension, his fists tightening then loosening up. Foggy looked closer at Matt’s fists, noticing the knuckles were red with angry scrapes from punching something...or someone.

“Holy shit, Matt! Did you get in a fight?” Foggy exclaimed in concern. Lucy saw Matt’s fists and rushed to the back room.

“No, I didn’t get in a fight.” Matt replied through clenched teeth. “I just needed to blow off some steam, and the punching bag was the best option.”

“Well I’m glad it’s just a punching bag and not a person.” Lucy said as she returned to the table with a first aid kit. “It’s a little too early in the day for you to be doing your Daredevil thing.”

Matt’s stomach dropped at Lucy’s words. His fists clenched even tighter as he addressed his best friend. “Foggy?”

“What?” Foggy shrugged defensively. “I can’t start a relationship based on lies! Besides, she’s cool. We can trust her.”

“What the fuck, Foggy?!” Matt snapped, thankful that the bakery was still empty. “You told a dangerous secret to some woman you just met?!” Lucy’s grip tightened on Matt’s hand as she continued treating it. “No offense, Lucy.” He muttered apologetically.

Foggy, on the other hand, took great offense to Matt. “First of all, watch your language in front of this beautiful lady,” He angrily pointed out. “Second, we may have ‘just met’, but I’ve already named our future children! And I know for a fact that Foggy Jr. and Lucy Jr. would appreciate total honesty in this family!” He finished with a pound of his fist atop the table.

The bakery went silent. Matt’s lips twitched while he tried to keep his angered expression. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t meant to last as he let out and amused snort.

Lucy didn’t bother hiding her giggles, she found the blonde teddy bear so adorable and endearing.

Foggy looked confused as to what was so funny. “What?”

Matt couldn’t hold it in anymore, he let out a belly laugh, “Foggy, you make it really hard to stay mad at you.”

Foggy still looked clueless until Lucy leaned her head on his shoulder affectionately, still giggling, “Foggy, you are too precious for words, but let’s hold off on baby names until we’ve had our first date at least.” She finishes with a kiss on his cheek, causing him to blush into a bright tomato.

Before Foggy could think of how to respond, the bell chimed as a few customers entered the bakery. Lucy quickly rose from her seat to assist the customers, her fingers softly grazed through Foggy’s blonde hair as she passed by.

Matt smiled, knowing his best friend kept his “heart eyes” (as Iris called them) on the enchanting baker that’s captured his heart.

“You must really like her a lot if you trust her with this kind of information.” Matt spoke quietly, sounding more calm and understanding.

Foggy’s eyes turned downcast in guilt before facing Matt again. “I’m really sorry, Matt. You know I wouldn’t announce it to the world, or tell just anyone.”

He paused to gaze at Lucy, who was chatting with a middle aged couple while showing them her delicious creations. He felt his heart practically dancing when her eyes shifted towards him and she gave a blushing radiant smile.

“I’m in love with her.” Foggy continued softly, not realizing he voiced his feelings out loud; his eyes still on Lucy. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, man. I know it’s crazy and it’s sudden, I mean we’d only met yesterday! But the moment I saw her, it just hit me like I got punched with lightning or something. I know this feeling I have is real. I mean, sometimes you just know as soon as it hits you, you know?”

“Yeah.” Matt softly replied in complete understanding. “I know exactly how you feel.”

Foggy’s eyes widened as he snapped out of his love daze. “Oh shit, how is Iris? Is she okay?!” Foggy didn’t notice his voice had raised in alarm, catching the attention of the two remaining customers in the bakery.

“I would also like to know how Iris is doing, Matt.” Lucy chimed in as she walked towards the middle aged couple to deliver their treats.

Matt hesitated, “It’s...a little personal. Actually it’s extremely personal...and..disturbing.” He finished with a strained angry grimace.

Foggy’s eyes narrowed in concern as he leaned towards his friend. “What’s wrong? She is in trouble, isn’t she?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

Lucy rushed to their table and yanked back the chair next to Foggy to take a seat. “What’s going on with my best friend, Matt?” She asked, sounding more serious and intimidating than either of the two men have heard yet.

Matt, while touched by their concern, was still hesitant. “I don’t know if I should really say. It’s bad enough that I know when she hasn’t actually told me herself. It’s..” Matt felt his throat tighten and his eyes dampen at how painful it was to hear everything Iris had said. “It’s horrible.”

Foggy and Lucy stiffened at Matt’s words, trying to imagine what it was that Matt knew.

“Matt, we care about Iris, too.” Lucy replied.

Foggy fervently agreed. “Seriously, man. I’ve only known Iris for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself!”

Foggy didn’t realize how loud his voice carried until he heard how silent the bakery got. The middle aged couple clearly heard Foggy’s passionate statement, because without a second thought, they jumped out of their seats and bolted out the door.

Matt, Foggy and Lucy were alone once more.

Foggy bashfully asked, “Do you think they heard me?”

Matt’s eyebrows raised in perplexity while Lucy let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, sweetie. I think they did.” She said with a pat on his head.

Foggy shrugged, “Well, I said what I said. But that’s not important right now.” He leaned towards Matt once more. “Please tell us. We want to help Iris, too.”

Matt sat quietly, contemplating his decision before faintly replying, “Okay.”

Iris

Claire’s impromptu checkup was relatively quick and painless. I cringed at her sympathetic gaze as she examined all the bruises and scars on my body, I felt embarrassed that she saw the extent of what he had done to me. She was considerate enough to not dwell on it, for now anyway. She did, however, diagnose the bruised ribs I didn’t realize I had. That explains why that hideous bruise on my torso hasn’t healed yet. Unfortunately, nothing can be done about that, except to take it easy and let it heal naturally, which will apparently take six weeks at the most.

After the exam was over, Claire gave me a prescription for some pain relief and antibiotics, as well as demanding I get some sleep.

After promising Claire I would rest on the condition that she stopped by the bakery for any treat on the house, I hugged her goodbye and exited the hospital.

I still wasn’t ready to go home yet. Not only out of fear of the lingering nightmares, but also out of fear of facing Matt. Despite Claire’s reassuring words, I still felt doubtful about whether or not he’ll want anything to do with me. I still can’t get over the crushed look on his face when I walked away from him. But maybe Claire’s right. I should just swallow my pride and talk to him. I owe him that much.

I snapped out of my inner thoughts and paused in my aimless wandering when I heard music in the air. I turned to the right of me, in the direction the music came from, and saw the tall building with the red neon sign in the shape of a guitar that read Guitar Center.

My fingers twitched with an aching need that I’ve repressed for far too long, my feet made the decision for me and led me inside the music store.

A wave of euphoria flowed through me as I took in the view of various instruments as far as the eye can see. The sound of live instruments playing sounding more and more prominent.

I walked further into the store towards the music until I found a small group of three guys and a young woman just lounging around. They all had a unique style, mix of rock & roll edge with a wild and colorful bohemian flair. The choices of instruments were oddly mismatched. The woman, who had a rockabilly style black and pink polka dot wiggle dress, was on her feet playing an upright bass, one guy was playing the violin, the second was playing an acoustic guitar, and the third guy sat on the floor playing a tambourine with drum sticks like it was a mini drum set. This was such an odd and fascinating mix of musicians, I couldn’t help but be drawn to them.

My eyes drifted past them and landed on a beautiful red upright piano. My fingers twitched with the urge to play. Should I? It’s been so long since I’ve touched a piano, I was afraid that I would be so rusty that I really would sound as mediocre as he always said I did.

Well He was an asshole who didn’t want you to enjoy anything that didn’t involve him. Play the damn piano. It’s been too long since we’ve done anything we were passionate about. We deserve this. You deserve this!

My feet obeyed my thoughts quicker than I did as I now found myself seated in front of the piano. I barely noticed the quirky musicians go quiet next to me, all I could really hear was my heartbeat thumping in my ears. My hands trembled as I delicately caressed the keys, saying hello to an old friend.

Without any more hesitation, my muscle memory kicked in as I played the beginning notes of the first song my mom taught me. I started slowly at first, then my fingers sped up as the song began to build up. I could faintly hear the jingles of the tambourine, and it was quickly followed by the instruments of the musicians next to me. One of the musicians started singing, the lyrics confirming that they were playing my song alongside me.

She comes in colors everywhere

She combs her hair

She's like a rainbow

Coming, colors in the air

Oh, everywhere

She comes in colors

I looked over my shoulder towards the quirky group. The man with the guitar, who had his long hair tied back and wore a red Hawaiian shirt with black jean, met my eyes and nodded with a smile, signaling me to continue playing.

My heart was dancing as I played on, my confidence growing more and more. I didn’t even bother holding back the beaming smile from my face, as I played the music box-sounding notes on the keys. My eyes began to mist from the pure joy of doing something I thought I’d never be allowed to do again. I continued playing, with an energy and passion that have waited years to be reawakened.

Have you seen her dressed in blue?

See the sky in front of you

And her face is like a sail

Speck of white so fair and pale

Have you seen a lady fairer?

She comes in colors everywhere

She combs her hair

She's like a rainbow

Coming, colors in the air

Oh, everywhere

She comes in colors

Oh how I wish Mom was here with me, she would’ve loved to hear me play her favorite song again.

Have you seen her all in gold?

Like a queen in days of old

She shoots colors all around

Like a sunset going down

Have you seen a lady fairer?

She comes in colors everywhere

She combs her hair

She's like a rainbow

Coming, colors in the air

Oh, everywhere

She comes in colors

I wish Matt was here too. Would he like hearing me play? Would he say he loved it? Would he ask me to play more? Would he want to sit beside me as I played? Oh how I wished I knew for sure.

She's like a rainbow

Coming, colors in the air

Oh, everywhere

She comes in colors

The room went quiet as the final notes faded in the air. The quiet didn’t last long, though, as a few patrons of the store had started applauding; I didn’t even realize we had actually drawn an audience. My face heated up, my cheeks flushed bright red amongst my pale skin. It’s been so long since I’ve played in front of everyone, I forgot how amazing it felt to get a positive response.

The musicians that accompanied me nodded with approval at me, and that simple gesture warmed my heart with a sense of belonging.

The tambourine man, who wore heavy eyeliner and a wildly colorful abstract shirt with leather pants, stood up to sit next to me on the bench and eagerly asked, “Play us another song, darling?”

I hesitated for a second, not used to getting such a request. “I’m not sure what you would like to hear.” I replied meekly.

“Anything you want.” The violinist replied. He wore black and white striped pants with a fitted pink and blue paisley buttoned shirt topped with a black bow tie and a black vest. “Just start playing and we’ll follow along.”

My brows furrowed in concern, “What if you don’t know the song?”

“We don’t need to,” The guitarist spoke up. “We just let the music guide us through.”

The pinup bassist sweetly chimed in, “That’s how we always play, so don’t even worry about that, dollface. Play us something.”

I took a second to think over what other songs I knew before I started playing with my musical acquaintances for the next couple of hours.

After we were done playing together in the music store, my new friends dragged me along with them to an indie record store that also had a small cafe inside.

I easily lost track of time, I was too caught up in my new friends; the sun had already set by the time we had all parted ways. I left the record store with a bag full of new CDs, a chocolate chip muffin for the walk home, four new phone numbers added on my phone, and a smile of contentment on my face.

Claire was right. I wasn’t alone in this anymore. I don’t have to be.

My thoughts drifted back to Matt. The thought of telling him the truth terrified me still. I want so badly to let him in, but I can’t help but let that shred of doubt nudge it’s way into my mind.

Can he accept me completely? Will he judge me for what I’ve done? Will he hate me for lying? Or will he still want to help me?

I was too lost in my thoughts, I wasn’t alert enough to notice I was being watched, and also being followed.

I felt a hand grab my arm in a painful grip as I was yanked into a dark alley, a second hand covered my mouth before I had a chance to scream for help.

Oh god. He found me! How the hell did he find me?! He’s gonna kill me before I can even tell Matt how sorry I am. I didn’t even get to see Mom. I wish I had actually spoken to her-

My thoughts were cut off when an unfamiliar voice growled from my captor. “Give me your money now, and you won’t get hurt.”

Oh thank god, it’s only a mugger! My body sagged in relief.

The man then held a knife against my throat, causing me to stiffen up again. Oh shit, it’s a mugger!

I started to panic as I struggled to get out of his grasp, biting hard into his hand in the process.

The mugger growled in anger as he moved his now free hand into my hair, yanking it to the point where I feared it would be pulled out of my scalp.

“You fuckin bitch!” He sneered as he shoved my face against the wall.

I was hyperventilating at this point, unable to hold back the tears that flowed down my face. “Please let me go! I don’t have any money!” I pleaded desperately.

The mugger then pressed himself against my back, pressing his groin into my back.

“Then I’m just gonna have to get something else from you, huh?” He replied as he licked my ear, my body shivered in fear and disgust.

Then suddenly the pressure from his body was lifted abruptly as he was pulled off me and thrown against the wall.

I quickly turned around and was staring in stunned silence as I saw my mugger getting his ass handed to him by a mysterious man dressed in head to toe black. The man in black moved with speed and grace as he punched and kicked the mugger around like a ninja. The mugger tried to get some hits in, but he never stood a chance. The man in black hurled him against the wall, landing a foot away from me.

I shrieked in surprise as the mugger grabbed my ankle. I kicked and stomped repeatedly on his wrist, but he wouldn’t budge. The man in black rushed to my aid and pulled the mugger away from me. He let out a growl of anger as he threw him against the opposite wall.

“Keep your hands off of her!” The man in black threatened, his voice low and deep with rage, sending thrilling shivers down my spine.

He knocked the mugger out with one last anger-fueled punch, causing said mugger to collapse like a jenga tower. He squatted down towards the mugger and proceeded to restrain his hands and feet, causing the mugger to start twitching back into consciousness, prompting the man in black to deliver one more knockout punch to the face.

My breathing slowed down as he stood up and turned to face me. My heart started to beat faster as he started walking tentatively towards me. I took in his full appearance before me. He stood almost a foot taller than me, his fitted black outfit did nothing to hide his muscular build that my eyes struggled to stray from. The top half of his face was covered by the thick black fabric that tied around his head, leaving the bottom half visible; which of course drew my attention to those perfect full lips of his.

Perfect full lips that started speaking.

“Are you okay?” His deep voice was gentle with concern.

I shakily nodded, taking a deep breath as I replied. “I am, thanks to you.”

He tilted his head as his hand reached toward the side of my face that had been shoved against the wall. Even though his hand was gloved in thick material, my cheek came alive with a spark of electricity at his gentle touch.

“Are you hurt?” He asked with genuine concern.

My heart skipped a beat as his kindness reminded me of a certain neighbor, causing my eyes to water. “No, I’m fine.” I replied.

His head tilted once more as he asked with uncertainty. “Are you sure? He made you hit that wall pretty hard.” His thumb gave gentle feather light caresses across my newly bruised cheek.

I gave a shrug and replied tensely, “I’ve had worse.”

His whole body stiffened at my answer, he was close enough for me to hear him grind his teeth. I could just barely hear him mutter angrily under his breath, “I know.”

My brows wrinkled in confusion at what he could have meant by that. Before I could question him, though, he slowly began to step away from me, his lingering fingers grazing my cheek until he dropped his hand completely.

“You should go home.” He declared when he stood an extra couple feet away from me. “And be careful. The city’s dangerous at this time of night.”

“Okay.” I readily agreed. He started to turn around to walk away, prompting me to call out, “Hey!”

He abruptly stopped in his tracks, tilting his head once more to patiently listen.

“Thank you. You saved my life.” I finished, my voice heavy with gratitude.

I could just barely see the side of his mouth rise into a small smile as he replied, “You’re welcome. Please be safe.”

And with that, he disappeared into the shadows. I didn’t waste another second to bolt out of the alley and rush home.

I finally made it back to the familiar apartment building and didn’t stop running until I made it safely inside the elevator. Now that I had stopped and taken a breath, I began to feel the lead weight my legs had become; along with the exhaustion from lack of sleep and the series of events from this long day hitting me all at once. I definitely needed to go to sleep.

I got off the elevator on my floor and tiredly stumbled to my door. Before I unlocked it, I turned my attention towards Matt’s apartment. My run in with the mugger gave me a serious wake up call. I can’t keep wasting time being miserable and alone like this. I need to talk to Matt and tell him the truth, or forever wish I did. But not tonight. Not when I already felt dead on my feet. Tomorrow. I’ll tell him first thing tomorrow.

With my decision set in my mind, I entered my apartment and locked the door before I stumbled to my bed and finally succumbed to sleep.

I woke up the next morning feeling far more rested than the day before. I slept so heavily, I couldn’t even remember if I dreamed, much to my relief. I got up to brush my teeth and get dressed for the day, but not before texting Lucy to let her know I needed an extra day off, which she happily replied was no problem at all.

I could feel my stomach twist and tangle in anxiety at how this conversation with Matt can possibly turn out; I was ready to throw up. I was determined, but still terrified to tell him everything. I hate how scared I am about this. Matt has been nothing but sweet to me, I should feel comfortable enough to talk to him. But with the way I’ve acted towards him, and the weight of my secret, will he even want anything to do with me again?

My thoughts were interrupted by music playing muffled through the wall connecting my apartment to Matt’s. It was the beginning notes to The Four Tops’ “Reach Out I’ll Be There”, as if he knew what was going through my mind

Now if you feel that you can't go on (can't go on)

Because all of your hope is gone (all your hope is gone)

And your life is filled with much confusion (much confusion)

Until happiness is just an illusion (happiness is just an illusion)

And your world around is crumbling down, darlin'

(Reach out) Come on girl reach on out for me

(Reach out) Reach out for me

Hah, I'll be there with a love that will shelter you

I'll be there with a love that will see you through

My eye started tearing up again as I paid attention to the lyrics. Was Matt trying to tell me something through this song, or am I just reading too much into it?

When you feel lost and about to give up (to give up)

'Cause your best just ain't good enough (just ain't good enough)

And your feel the world has grown cold (has grown cold)

And your drifting out all on your own (drifting out on your own)

And you need a hand to hold, darlin'

(Reach out) Come on girl, reach out for me

(Reach out) Reach out for me

Hah, I'll be there to love and comfort you

And I'll be there to cherish and care for you

(I'll be there to always see you through)

(I'll be there to love and comfort you)

My heart was beating uncontrollably, my skin riddled with goosebumps. Matt doesn’t usually play music out loud, and now he plays this song. He was definitely telling me something, and the song couldn’t spell it out anymore clearly.

I can tell the way you hang your head (hang your head)

You're not in love now, now you're afraid (you're afraid)

And through your tears you look around (look around)

But there's no peace of mind to be found (no peace of mind to be found)

I know what your thinking

You're a loner, no love of your own, but darling

(Reach out) Come on girl reach out for me

Reach out, just look over your shoulder

I'll be there to give you all the love you need

And I'll be there you can always depend on me

I'll be there

Don’t worry

More determined than ever, I finished getting dressed and bolted out the door, and walked straight to Matt’s door.

My palms began to sweat, but I forced myself to stay strong as I rose my hand up and knocked on the door. The footsteps I could hear coming towards the other side of the door matched the heavy heartbeat within my chest. The door opened revealing Matt, dressed in grey sweatpants with the ends tucked into his grey tube socks, a navy blue hoodie zipped up but revealing a peak of a white t-shirt, his hair combed back and slightly wet from the shower he must’ve just taken; and for the first time since I’ve met him, his eyes were free of his usual red sunglasses, revealing his deep soulful brown eyes. He looked more beautiful than ever, and it simply took my breath away.

“Hi, Matt.” I spoke before I lost my nerve, keeping my focus on the task at hand.

Matt’s perfect lips rose in a soft and sweet smile. “Hi, Iris. Are you okay?” He asked, being the sweet gentleman he is.

“Yeah, I’m-” I started to automatically say before I cut myself off. Honesty. I have to start with honesty. I took a deep breath before I continued meekly, “No. I’m actually not okay. I haven’t been for a long time.”

Matt frowned in concern and sympathy. I spoke up once more, “That’s actually why I came to see you. Can we talk? I mean, if I’m not taking up your time of course. I can always come back later if this isn’t a good time.”

Matt rushed to respond before I considered backing off, “You’re not taking up my time, I’d love to talk to you. Please come in.” He opened his door wider to welcome me inside.

I stepped inside the apartment for the first time and noticed the space was almost identical to mine in terms of size, minimal amount of furniture as well.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Matt asked, being a gracious host. “I don’t have much except for beer and water, or I can make some coffee if you’d like.”

I shook my head with a smile, “No thank you, I’m fine.”

He then directed me towards the couch in the center of the room and took a seat with enough space apart to face each other. My hands started shaking as I tried to figure out what to say first. I decided the best to start with was an apology.

“I’m sorry.” I began as I shifted to face him. “For yesterday. The way I acted was inexcusable.”

Matt shook his head, “You don’t have to apologize, Iris.”

I fervently replied, “Yes I do. You’ve been nothing but kind and gentle to me, and I’ve been so terrible in comparison. You were so concerned about me and wanted to help me, and I repaid you by pushing you away and being so rude to you. You deserved better than that, and I’m so sorry, I’d understand if you didn’t want anything to do with me ever again. I wouldn’t want anything to do with me either-”

“Iris, stop.” He cut me off as he grabbed my hands in comfort. “I hate hearing you degrade yourself like that. You’re not a bad person. You’re a sweet and wonderful person, who has clearly been through something painful. And as long as you’ll let me, I’d really like to stay by your side more and help you in any way I can.”

My fingers gripped tightly to his hands, my eyes powerless to keep the oncoming tears at bay.

I took another deep breath before I finally got to the point. “You were right.” I started. “I am in trouble. I did go through something painful. I…”

Matt squeezed my hands slightly tighter in reassurance. “It’s okay, you can tell me.” He spoke with the utmost gentleness.

I used that bit of encouragement to finally reach the point of no return.

“His name is Paul.” Matt cocked his head in curiosity before I continued.

“My husband.” There it is. No turning back now. “He was hurting me. All the time.” My throat began to tighten at the memories. “At first he was so charming, sweet, loving. I thought he was so handsome and mysterious. He swept me off my feet instantly. Always doting on me, gave me gifts. I never really cared that he had money though, I just cared that he made me feel so loved, like I was all that mattered. When Mom had her stroke, I was devastated. It was just her and me, she was the only family I had left and I didn’t know how to take care of her. I was 20 years old, working minimum wage, I had no idea what to do. And Paul came in like a knight in shining armor. He paid for Mom to stay in one of the best nursing homes, he proposed to me and promised to move her in with us and provide a nurse to help me take care of her. He promised to make me so happy and loved.” I let out a scoff at my naïveté from back then. “I believed him of course. I married him in this big, expensive, show off ceremony he insisted we had to have. I was so in love and stupidly happy. I thought, ‘Life couldn’t possibly get any more perfect.’ And it didn’t.”

I looked away from Matt with a frown as I delved even further into the worst years of my life. “As soon as we came back from our honeymoon, everything changed. He had little obsessive compulsive quirks I didn’t know about before. The towels always had to hang perfectly neat and even on the rack. The cans in the cupboard had to be stacked neatly with the labels facing out. The house had to be completely spotless. The table had to be set appropriately. I learned the hard way how much he hated rules being forgotten.”

Matt’s body tensed up and his hands started shaking over mine. I continued further. “You could probably guess that he never followed through on his promise to move my mom in with us. His reasoning was that he loved me so much that he wanted to keep me all for himself.” I shook my head in disgust. “That’s also the reason we never had kids. He hates kids and hates the idea of someone stealing my attention away from him even worse. He got a vasectomy a month before we got married.” I cleared my throat to swallow down the lump of tears in my throat. “He took away my mom, my chance of being a mom, my music, my spirit. It didn’t take much to set him off and punish me as he saw fit. I was dying in there. He had been killing me slowly for three years.”

Matt’s voice cracked as he finally spoke up. “Oh god Iris, I’m so sorry.” He shifted a hand to intertwine our fingers together. “How did you get out of there?”

I knew he would ask me that. This was the part I dreaded. “I tried calling the police. A lawyer too. They were no help whatsoever. The best they offered was a restraining order. As if that would keep him away. I realized the only one who could help me was me. So I made the necessary arrangements I needed to make, and I escaped.”

Matt looked skeptical like he knew I wasn’t elaborating enough. “Is he looking for you?”

I shook my head, “No. He couldn’t possibly be looking for me. He has no idea what I did.”

His face scrunched in confusion. “That doesn’t make sense. How could he not be looking for you? How could he not know you left?”

My heart was beating rapidly as I took a deeper breath and replied.

“Because he thinks I’m dead.”

A/N: Annnnd that’s chapter 7! Chapter 8 will come A LOT SOONER this time around and it’s gonna be a flashback chapter. It’s gonna be rough, so be ready. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, I hope it was worth the wait. PLEASE comment what you thought of the chapter and reblog, be sure to follow me and hit me up if you wanna get on the taglist. Thanks for your patience, I love you all! Until next time...*kiss noise*

Taglist:

@jobean12-blog @cametobuyplums @tomhollandeu @emilymarie0422 @lullabylike

#Every Breath You Take #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock x iris #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock x reader #Daredevil #Matt Murdock

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aggresivelyfriendly · 6 years

Photo

~Who Names The Colors~

Good Morning Lovers-I’m 12 hours early, because I’m takin my babies to the beach and am not sure when I’ll be back!! Are we all on fire from gucci? I hope this throws on some gasoline!! Scream at me, send me messages, songs,etc!!!

He’s much younger than her, but nobody is anywhere near illegal! Hope you enjoy!

I owe very much alot to @bleedinglove4h, @nocontrolforlouis, and @dirtystyles-who made the banner.

November 2014

"But that's not art, that's porn!" The girl in the front row was ready to stamp her foot, and there was part of Jo that agreed. Koons' Made In Heaven series was made to be deliberately pornographic. It was certainly made to titillate, but mostly to challenge norms, which made it art. Before Jo could say any of this someone spoke up.

"That's the point." Harry's lazy drawl tumbled out. She didn't look at him, though he had continued to sit front and center in her class. Jo did her best not to, she knew her eyes would linger and the distance she nearly crossed in her studio and had worked hard to reassert would be gone entirely. Today's class on eroticism in art, which she had taught matter of factly for three years, felt like a mine field. Jo kept her eyes off Harry though she usually liked to look at the speaker, she could not put her eyes on him without remembering all the other things she wanted to spread over him. Everybody else was looking at him, anyway. Maybe because he was relatively quiet in class. Harry responded when called upon, but Jo avoided that too. He still always caused a stir and Jo had found out from eavesdropping on her students, his art was known, and his eclectic style and perceived mysterious ways added to his mystique. Jo who had known him when, knew he wasn't being deliberately aloof, but was shy and introverted, and occasionally self conscious, saw his choices for what they were. He dressed the way he did, as armor, a display to appear braver than he was. Based on everybodies' obvious interest in him, it was working.

The girl who had spoken, Lara, Jo recalled, and her friend, Cecilia, loved to chat about Harry, and tried to catch his eye whenever they could. He didn't notice of course. Jo wondered if he was aware of what he looked like, the pull of his gravitas, and power of his presence. She'd think it was just her because of her 'feelings' if she didn't see everybody and hear some of the responses to him.

Lara looked completely confused. She was miffed that Harry had disagreed with her but Jo could see the excitement simmering that he was paying attention to her at all, that his eyes were on her as he participated in the discussion that she initiated.

"It's meant to be provocative, and you're lookin at it with today's eyes, which is anachronistic. This was 1990 or something. Seeing graphic sex was totally counter-cultural and pornography was a lightening rod. Like gay rights now- or trans issues.It would be like someone using a trans couple now."

Lara's face twisted a bit and Jo watched Harry bow up. "That would be porn too!" She said with barely concealed disgust.

Harry looked red in the face and Jo realized that the discussion had wondered into activist territory for him. She wanted to hear what he had to say, but didn't want him to blow.

"Harry is right," She interrupted with her professor hat on. "Though Koons is a controversial figure- it is a huge part of his schtick, the context of a piece can be what defines it as art. For instance, why is a collection of neon soup cans or spattered paint art?" Jo was trying to steer the conversation.

Harry's shoulders were heaving a little and she saw him shoot a not so nice look at Lara and pick up his iced coffee violently. She was actually glad for the turn of the conversation. Jo and Harry had a meeting today and the vibe of earlier was not how she wanted to go into office hours with him after their last time alone. Without a break in the tension, she knew she would be saying his name. But that crisis seemed to be averted. As was her very tiny, largely ignored fear that Harry may have noticed or liked Lara. She was lovely, he should like her, respond to her interest. Her little green eyed monster cheered when Lara again chimed in response to her question and put another nail in the coffin.

"Well, I'm not sure they are art!" Jo shamefully cheered inside at Harry's huff at Lara's statement.

His face twisted and it was clear he wanted to engage in the conversation again, but then another student started talking about abstraction and automatic art theory and the class had totally moved of the original topic but it was great. She was enjoying the ping ponging opinions in the classroom. She sat of her desk and smiled when by a crazy turn of events Lara was defending Warhol. Somehow Jo's eyes caught Harry's. He still looked frustrated but he lit up a little at whatever he saw on her face and she nodded.

She was wondering if he'd want to talk about his frustration in their meeting- she wanted to. But it had little to do with his work or his final project that they were still trying to determine and everything to do with curiosity. Jo wanted to know things like that about Harry. When he was younger and would watch her, he would ask questions and she would answer, but they didn't talk about much beyond art.

They had reversed places, in office hours, he talked and responded to her questions and she listened. Harry had been an actively creating artist for years whereas Jo had been simply dabbling. The role reversal was exciting. But Jo found that when he talked about his process she wanted to hear about his influences and his influences made her want to hear about him.

She wanted to talk about exactly why the Lara interaction had soured his mood so. Though the acidic tingle of the conversation meant Jo would be able to hear it rather than watching his lips curls and pout while he talked. That was helpful. Jo glanced at her watch, the smart one that yelled at her for sitting to paint for more than one hour at a time. Class was over technically and Jo would have let them continue talking about whether art could be high culture and pop culture at the same time. They had just gotten into Lady Gaga and Jo was living. And that was bringing them back to whether art could be low culture as well she could feel that they would get back to porn and erotic art and she was sad she was going to have to put an end to it.

There was another class who needed the space, but Jo was loving the class. Even Harry seemed to have perked up and was talking about Gaga and her relation to Warhol and she had to call time, because she could see the grumpy old lass who taught first year art history at the window. She, Victoria Persuppins, was not Jo's biggest fan, apparently she had an eye on Jo's work space and was happy to be the only female art faculty member, until Jo. She had especially side eyed Jo once she had started dating another faculty member and had a baby. How dare she! Jo wanted to roll her eyes at her displeased face. But instead.

"Sorry, guys, that is our time for today-though I could listen to you all go on all night!" She smiled huge at everybody, and they all smiled back, including Lara, but especially Harry. Jo had caught his eye when she scanned through the first time and she wanted to stay and look at his giant dimples. She made eye contact with everybody, but her eyes went right back to Harry and even when the rest of the student had moved on to looking at each other and packing up, a few even sprinting from class, he was still waiting for her gaze. Harry's eyes were glowing and she wanted to measure his asymmetry, the difference in his dimples. She loved that one was so much bigger than the other. It would make for a really cool cubist imitation, like the sides of his face could be pronated in. And she was still staring at him, and Harry her.

She packed up quick then. He came to stand by her desk while Professor Victoria, long may she reign, shouldered her way into the same area. Victoria was giving them a suspicious glance. Jo didn't like that one bit. There was a student waiting on Professor Persuppins too, a male one. It pissed Jo off that her age, and she would admit, looks, or maybe Harry's, made this bitch immediately look for impropriety. There had been none. Not for a year and he had been nowhere near her professionally then.

Jo looked up with a squished brow when Harry said "Professor Smith, our meeting?" and he looked like he was afraid of her. It's an act. "I'd really like to retake the test, please." He's laying it on thick, but bitchfessor looked impressed and Jo wondered how he knew that would work.

She played along, "I have office hours, and I need a real reason I should give you another chance, not just because you need me to, Mr. Styles. Everybody had the same opportunity and time to study." And Victoria nodded at her, and her mind was blown.

They got a safe distance down the hall and Jo looked at Harry and they both burst out laughing, startling the student sat outside another office waiting.

"Sorry!" Harry stage whispered, and gave her a boyish giggle as he opened the door to her office. She fell in and Harry closed the door behind her and pressed his wiggling nose into her back and the shift in mood was sudden like the earth had tilted on its axis. For just a second, she stayed there and pressed back into his nose, and he coasted it up her spine. The shiver that he caused, and neither of them can pretend it didn't happen, because he was basically against her from ass to shoulder, and it's not chilly, was like biting into ice cream. Her teeth hurt. Jo breathed one breath and smelled her office smells, the old books and wood, and remembered her office, and the look on her colleagues face and her umbrage at Victoria's assumption. Jo took a step forward and put the desk between them.

To break them both out of it, and to remind herself of what just happened and how it can't happen again. "What was that? Didn't know you were also an actor." And she forced a giggle to glance over the fact that he just touched her and she let him, loved it.

"Oh," he let out a breath and pursed his lips. Jo saw a quick shake of his head, and he sat in the chair across from her and she copied him and tried not to shift around to much. Harry was fixing his skinny jeans, and she busied herself putting papers she had collected away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pull the crotch of his pants down. Fuck. "Oh," He started again, "I had her my first semester, and I was totally a fuck up for the first couple weeks. I'd just discovered girls--"

"What do you mean, just discovered girls?" Ethan was well aware of girls for ages before university.

"What I said. Most of college, I was kinda confused, because like I noticed earlier, when all the boys started talking about girls, that I thought they were nice, like the nicest to look at, but I really liked a boy." He was looking at her dead in the eye. Like he was daring her to respond to him, but he was gripping the sides of his chair, so Jo knew he was afraid of it to. "But I wasn't the best student in Professor Persuppin's class, she doesn't seem to believe in second chances. Got the lowest grade I ever got in her class. Thought I'd just play on her perception of me." He still looked worried about Jo's perception of him now. She was still going over his revelation.

"Oh!" Jo thought and it escaped through her mouth too. "Oh!" She said again. His cheeks pinked up, and Jo reached across the desk for his hand. He pried it from where it lay and she got herself together to speak, while she took it. "Sorry, I was just putting two and two together to make four. That's why Ethan never had to stop bringing you round, cuz you weren't attracted to me." She boggled at that, all evidence to the contrary now.

"Well, I thought you were very pretty and the nicest, but when I really like someone, I, like, can't seem to see anybody else when I'm feeling that. And it's why I was so crazy first year, this whole new world of flavors and shapes had opened up, and I wasn't hung up on anybody anymore. I really liked it, sampled a lot. Did that most of that year until it was normal and not so revelatory and exciting. Dated but hadn't really been hugely attracted until," he looked at their joined hands. "But I'm still me, and when I find one person who is compelling, that's where my attention or whatever fixates." And he made long eye contact, and Jo heard what he wasn't saying clear as a bell.

"So you had a boyfriend?"

"Not really, He didn't like me the way I liked him. But it went on for me for ages. I was just finally over it when I got to uni, and I got a bit drunk during freshers and this gorgeous girl kissed me, and I, just really liked the feel of her in my hands." Jo slowly released his hand at that. Because they had wandered into dangerous territory and she needed a break. Also, the thought of his hands on anybody else made her feel like Tinkerbell, only able to feel one thing at a time, and this one matched the fairy's outfit. Harry turned his mouth down and made a face like the displeased one in class, without the anger.

"Oh!" Jo said again, like an idiot. "That's why you got mad in class, at Lara."

"Yeah, Lara!" he said with loathing. And Jo was sure that even it he thought she was the prettiest girl in class, in all of the school, he wouldn't go for her. "She's a prig, and maybe a little homophobic. Saw that enough in college! At first, it was confusing for me. It seemed totally normal to me, to be attracted to boys, and then I realized I was the odd man out and that I was supposed to hide it. And I'm horrible at hiding things, especially my feeling. I have a glass face. I wanted to tell everybody, especially when the attraction seemed returned, but you can't do that around most people and it fucked everything up.... It's why," and he shut himself like a door slam. "Anyway, I can't stand it. The idiocy just makes me crazy, and I am around it less so have no tolerance. And how do you get to third year of an art degree with such a tiny mind? Arts always attract the outsiders and especially lgbt folk." He looked genuinely offended and curious.

But Jo knew enough about not being what people expected and narrow minds in every place from her own life to no longer be surprised, "I dunno, she seemed to be opening up at the end. Martha's explanation of automatic art was really good, and Lara seemed to be on board, at least with Expressionism. And she bought into pop art thanks to Gaga." And Jo is laughing at his face.

"That is supposed to be the other way around!" Harry looked offended.

"Oi, now you are a being a snob!" She was laughing in earnest now.

"Me a snob!" He gave her chicken neck, "And did you just Oi me, Jo?"

"I did, I definitely did!" She was giggling into her hand and he was grinning and his hand was still on the desk and he reached for her fingers and pulled them from her mouth.

"Why do you do that? Cover your mouth when you really laugh." His face was like a child looking at a magician's handkerchief, trying to see the secret.

Why did she do that? Her mother telling her that she laughed like a donkey brayed stuck out, and a comment Ethan's dad had made about her teeth. But she said, "I dunno. Habit really."

"You shouldn't! I remember that was the first thing that made me love your house, the way you and Ethan laughed together. Always thought he had such a fun laugh. I realized, like last year, it was yours. Shouldn't cover your joy."

Her heart was pounding. It felt like he hadn't blinked while he complimented what she perceived as a flaw. Jo was certain she hadn't blinked. She knew that she had crossed from attraction to infatuation, but was digging in her heels like a horse at a cliff side to stop from going farther. She had been discovering more and more between them, shared interest, and likes, and influences, and it was getting harder and harder to hold her horses.

The subject needed to be changed. "What did you need to meet with me about?"

"Oh, I wanted to set up for you to come see what happened with my amber lady in grains. And I started something new and she's in it too. That one, I may be able to manage to come in with. But it would be great if you could come see them." He looked really hopeful.

She was gonna dash those against those cliff side rocks to avoid going over. "I really can't, not for a long time, we have department meetings and a function before finals."

"Oh," his face popped like a helium balloon. "One is a final. You sure you can't give it a look?"

Jo could not go to his studio, full stop. "Not till after finals Harry, sorry! Can you send me pictures?"

"Yeah, but I don't think the flesh in the new one will translate." He was pulling on his bottom lip worriedly.

"I can try to imagine." Jo was absolutely not going back to the red room to discuss flesh. Talk about no trespassing. That was a big huge glowing danger sign.

"Alright." He gave in, his hopes deflated. Harry stood and Jo followed him to let him out. He closed the door when she opened it, not hard but definitively.

"Har-" She started then switched to "H!" Jo did not want to have to rebuff him. She didn't want to rebuff him.

"No." He said, "I need to say this!" And he hugged her tightly with affection instead of passion, "Thank you! For not freaking out."

"Oh!" Jo said dully again. Her vocabulary elluding her. "Well, if you are amazed that Lara has gotten this far into a art degree and can be a homophobe, how do you think I could get a professorship?" Because she was old, way older than him, she reminded herself, wrote it on the inside of her forehead.

"I knew I could trust you, it's just always scary. You made it not scary." He looked like he wanted to do something, his hand came up and hung in the air like a spider's web. Jo was definitely caught. But instead, he smoothed her hair behind her ear and gave her an open grin before leaving. She closed the door behind him and leaned against it with her head pointed up and eyes closed.

Jo was sorry that she wasn't able to go home and put Zoe to bed so she could paint his smile, those asymmetrical perfect dimples. Instead, she called Audrey and checked in, getting herself together for her department meetings, and talk3: as much as you could on the phone to a three year old before bed. Thank god for video chat, or she would not hold that firecrackers attention long enough to say goodnight.

When Jo came out of her department meeting actually smiling, Victoria was way nicer to her, even called her by her name instead of professor. She hated that is was because Harry laid himself out like Isaac on the altar, but she was thankful to him.

Speaking of him, when she looked at her phone, she had loads of texts from him and a desperate message to please come to the studio. Harry was frenzied like the last time she daydreamed about him filling his mouth with her quim. Jo knew she should not go, that that room and his creativity was her very own hamartia. But she pointed her car there anyway. Rationalizing as she drove, she was his advisor. It was her job, her job where she had earned more respect. She was a professional.

When Harry answered the door, his eyes glowed so bright they were nearly teal, they were definitely a turquoise, and he was in jeans with a blue and red plaid with only one button done. Jo was feeling less professional. He didn't greet her, but turned as soon as the door was open knowing she would follow. He might as well have been playing a flute for all she was able to turn away, and she slithered after him.

The backbeat was even her favorite Tori Amos song and she recalled him singing along long ago in her studio. When she had asked about his knowledge of Lilith Fair rock, he had shrugged and said his mum liked it at one point and he had continued to like it much longer. It seemed an odd interest for a 17 year old boy at the time. But now it just seemed like another thing they had in common.

Like the other day when he had gone off in office hours about his frustration with figure drawing. "My favorite artist is Frida Kahlo, and it makes me crazy, because if I can't paint anybody, I'll never be able to draw myself. Ya know, like, I love landscapes and what they can say, evoke, but people are where you can really explore emotion. And yourself. If I can't draw myself, do I know myself?"

Jo almost swallowed her tongue. She went through an entire phase in art school, a lingering obsession with Frida and her own frustration with not being able to really draw herself. She could only draw the 'her' her parents wanted and the one that Ethan's dad wished for. Now, she painted women, but couldn't find their faces. She'd never connected the two until that moment.

At the time, because she was already trying to untie all the threads knotting themselves between them whenever they talked, she had simply said, "I love Frida too. She's probably my favorite. 20th century anyway." Of all time, in truth, but Jo didn't reveal that, couldn't present him another string to connect knot.

He'd smiled and kept talking about their fave and she stayed enraptured. Like she was now.

"She's part of the landscape, but not, like she is rising from it, and I just love the way the skin looks, Jo!" No title. "It looks real, and like its moving so it has emotion. I feel like I've found something. Something that is mine. I just need you to tell me though if it isn't good. If I'm just in a frenzy. Ok, Ok?"

He looked back at her then, but her eyes had just found the new one. She had looked at his defined woman in Amber and was impressed by how she turned out.

But then she saw the other one, and Jo was rising from the plain too. Jo was levitating. It was so good. She could see all the emotion and movement of life in the painting.

That wasn't what had her off the ground, not just his growth. The woman, her body, it looked just like Jo's, the body Harry had never seen. It was there. The strands of the earth she came out of even looked like the stretch marks on her lower belly. And the jut of her breast, she saw them daily in the shower, covered them when she crossed the mirrored wall in the bathroom. But her reflection in the painting, through Harry's imagination, did not cover herself, she had no reason to. It was the most beautiful thing Jo had ever seen.

"Har-Harry!" She got out. And he froze. She knew what she was saying. And he knew too. Harry looked up to be sure she meant it.

He crossed the room like a barrelling patrol car at a clear green light and wrapped his huge hands around her face, cupping her ears and kissed her. There was no hesitation. No sweet lip lock to test out the waters. They were boiling, and they both plunged in.

His mouth slanted right immediately and she fit him in counterpoint and opened her mouth to his tongue when it slid in against hers. The lick, tangle, and taste of him, of the hazelnut coffee he had been drinking, was a jolt of caffeine to her veins. Her skin was alight, like it was in the painting. Like she was on canvas. She thought he set her skin to dancing with his eyes and the smile on his mouth, but it was nothing compared to his kiss.

Jo kept going, pressed her pedal to the floor and him to the wall behind them. She was kissing the hell out of him and her hands were inside his plaid, her fingers trailing his chest. Her nails found his nipples and she scratched him. She'd never done that before.

Harry moaned and shifted, it brought his leg forward a bit, and Jo pressed her mons to his thigh. He flexed in response and Jo gasped. Harry pulled back and was about to reverse them when a canvas fell like hollowed skin to the floor. That stopped Jo, because they needed to be careful with his creations. It was just a blank one, could be wiped clean. She looked up at his blown pupils and his wide open shirt, and the red lines from her nails. Jesus, had she caused all that?

"Professor?" Harry said and it was a dunk in a glacial pool. Jo turned and was just about to run for the door but she had to tell him one thing. He needed to know. Had to know.

She couldn't look at him, over her shoulder, with as much force as she could, she said. "They're good Harry. NO! They are fucking great!" and she made her escape.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles alternate universe #harry styles au #who Names The Colors #wntc #chapter 7 #the kiss #Klimt #art fic #painter au #one direction #one direction fanfiction

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fiction-phan · 6 years

Text

Love Actually

Day 24 of the 25 Days of Christmas

Summary: Dan and Phil are stand-ins for movies and meet during scenes that involve nakedness and sex simulation. On set, they become friends and fall for each other. In real life, both of them are painfully shy and struggle to ask each other out.

Or the Love Actually AU no one asked for but I wrote anyway.

Words: 1.6k+

Read it on AO3

A/N: Can you guys believe we're so close to the end of this year's 25 Days of Christmas? I'm officially done with writing fics as tomorrow's fic has been finished for a while. It feels weird.

If you've never watched Love Actually but you still want to read the fic, here is a video to show you the couple this fic is based on. Enjoy x

When Phil found a job as a stand-in for a movie, he wasn’t expecting it to be a porn movie. His first day of work comprised shooting a scene half naked and, even though it was awkward, he couldn’t deny they were paying him well for it.

On the second day, he was introduced to the stand-in he would shoot most of his scenes with and suddenly he regretted ever accepting the job. The other stand-in was good looking and Phil was expected to film scenes with nakedness and sexual simulation with him as if it was an everyday occurrence.

The other stand-in, Dan looked just as awkward as him. He kept avoiding his eyes and looking away when talking to Phil. It should have annoyed Phil but the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one feeling weird about this helped him relax.

Their first day of working together didn’t turn out so bad. All their interactions were full clothed, except for one shirtless scene, and they had some time to interact and get to know each other. It wasn’t as awkward as they both thought it would be.

Their scenes together only took a sexual turn on their second week of working together. Phil arrived on set thinking it would be another day of easy shoots and getting to know Dan even more but instead was told to get naked and get into the bed prepared on set.

The assistant noticed the shocked look on his face and chuckled. “It’s a porn movie, what did you expect? It’s time to get to the good stuff.”

Phil took off his clothes and got under the covers, trying not to think about all the people who were seeing him naked. There was still some time to go before they shot but Phil wanted to get into position before Dan showed up. He wanted to avoid as much awkwardness as possible.

When Dan showed up on set, they both turned bright red. Phil averted his eyes to give Dan as much privacy as possible in their situation and only looked up again once Dan was safely under the covers.

Phil was about to say something to break the silence but their director spoke up before he could think of something to say.

“Dan, I’m going to need you to move on top of Phil and more your hips,” the director called out.

Phil could feel his ears burning and had no doubts in his mind that he was looking as red as a tomato. He didn’t care how much he needed the extra money, the next time he saw an advertisement for stand-ins in a movie, he was not applying.

Dan did as told and crawled over him, sitting down in his lap. “Is this okay?” he asked, not wanting to risk hurting Phil by mistake.

“It feels great, don’t worry about it,” Phil said and coughed when he realised how that could have sounded. “The traffic was horrible this morning wasn’t it?”

Dan looked at him with raised eyebrows, not expecting him to bring up such an innocent topic in their current situation. Phil tried to beg him with his eyes to go with it and it must have worked. “Yeah, I got out of the house an hour and a half before I needed to be here and I still almost got here late.”

The director chose that moment to interrupt them once again. “Dan I’m going to need you to bend down lower. Your chests need to be almost touching.”

“Oh, right,” Dan said, doing as asked. Their chests were now almost touching and Dan was still moving his hips so his ass was rubbing on Phil’s cock. Phil gulped and tried to turn his attention back to their conversation. He couldn’t help but keep thinking of how people did this without getting hard.

“I think there was a serious car accident a few roads away from here this morning which is why the traffic was so bad,” Dan was saying, picking up where they left off. “Do you live very far from here?”

Phil shook his head and was about to reply but was interrupted once again. “Phil, I need you to put your hands on Dan’s ass and help him move up and down.”

He went to do as asked but looked at Dan first. “May I?” Phil only went through with it after getting the go ahead from Dan. They might do this as a part of their job but Phil still wanted to be sure they were both comfortable with what was going on.

“I only live ten minutes away by car but with this morning's traffic I ended up almost getting in late,” Phil said once the director was happy with their positions.

“That’s a wrap for today you two.”

Dan and Phil got out of bed and put on the robes handed to them. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Dan asked, giving him a small smile.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Dan, I need you on your knees in front of Phil. Bob your head a little to make it believable.”

They were once again naked but it no longer felt weird. After seeing each other naked every single day, they stopped feeling so awkward and instead felt thankful over doing this with someone they got along well with.

“Did you listen to the new song by Fall Out Boy?” Dan asked, keeping up his rhythm of moving his head back and forth.

“I did, but I wasn’t very impressed with it. Their usual work is much better than that,” Phil admitted.

“Are you kidding me?” Dan gasped, looking up at him in shock. “I loved it! I think it’s much better than some of their previous songs.”

“Dan, I don’t see your head moving. We need to hurry because the actors are coming in soon,” the director called out.

“Right, sorry,” Dan said, resuming his movements.

“That’s what you get for slacking off at your job to judge my taste in music,” Phil teased. He didn’t actually mind Dan’s attitude, it made for an entertaining conversation and they both knew their teasing was just playful.

“Okay, we’re done with that scene so you can get up Dan,” the director said. “Now we need you leaning against the wall. Phil, lean onto him from behind and thrust your hips.”

“It’s nice to work with someone who I can also have a nice conversation with,” Dan said once they got into position. “It’s always been awkward with people I’ve worked with in the past but it’s different with you. It probably sounds weird for you but I wanted you to know.”

“No, no, I feel the same way,” Phil hurried to reassure, not wanting Dan to think it was just him. “This is my first time working as a stand-in so I thought it would be uncomfortable but it hasn’t with you. I look forward to our conversations.”

“Phil I need you to take a hold of Dan’s cock and stroke it. It needs to look like a proper hand job,” the director called out.

Phil did as directed before bringing up something which had been on his mind for the past couple of days. “Listen Dan, I was wondering if maybe… you know, you’d like to get a drink with me one of these days? Since it’s christmas in a few days, I thought it would be a good idea but don't feel you have to say yes, it was just a suggestion,” he rambled.

He couldn’t understand how he could feel comfortable chatting to Dan about the most random things while performing sex acts together yet turn into a nervous wreck at the thought of asking him out. Phil didn’t think it was something he would ever understand.

“I would love to,” Dan said and Phil wanted nothing more than to turn him around so he could see his face but knew the director would yell at him.

“Great. Is tomorrow night good for you?”

“It’s a date.”

Phil wasn’t sure of where to take Dan at first. What was the perfect date location for two people who spent most of their time together naked and touching each other?

He settled for going to see a Christmas play and then going for a couple of drinks at the bar. It ended up being a good idea as it gave them a chance to talk and get to know each other better in a casual setting.

When it was time to go, Phil offered to walk Dan home. He thought of it as a nice thing to do but he also offered to have an excuse to talk to Dan some more.

“Tonight was great Phil, thank you. I had a nice time,” Dan said once they got to his house.

“I had fun too. We should do it again sometime.”

They looked at each other for a moment but no one made the first move. It wasn’t a secret what they wanted to happen, but both were too shy. “I should go,” Phil said when it became clear that they wouldn't do anything.

“Wait!” Dan called out before Phil could turn around to leave. He walked up to him and pulled him in for a quick kiss. “I’m free tomorrow after work if you want. We can go out again.”

Phil looked at him dazed before his words registered. “I’m free tomorrow,” he said, a wide smile on his face. They shared another kiss and Phil watched as Dan walked into his house, closing the door with a last wave.

He went down the steps and threw his hands in the air once he was sure Dan was no longer watching. “Yes!”

The next day was going to be a good one.

A/N: Day 24 is done and dusted and there is now only one fic left till the end of the 25 Days of Christmas! I'll leave the long Author's Note for tomorrow's fic. I hope you enjoyed this fic and do let me know what you think of it!

A little hint: tomorrow's fic is my favourite out of all the 25 days which is why I left it for last. See you tomorrow x

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan au #phan fluff #phan smut #25 days of christmas #25 days of Christmas 2017 #day 24

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seenashwrite · 7 years

Text

“Sweetheart,” Dean said, looking right into her eyes, “I think you should...”

Careful! How you finish that line is gonna make-or-break how well you’ve captured Dean Winchester in that fic you’re working on. Why, you may ask? Keep reading. And to you who are familiar with this topic...

NOTE: Any subsequent “add-ons” via others sharing their thoughts on the topic which resulted in other posts will be linked at the bottom!

Abstract

Persistent usage in fandom writings ascribing one Dean Winchester a mannerism that relates to interactions with those he is romantically involved - specifically, the substitution of their name with “sweetheart” - is shown via evidence-based research to be in conflict with this fictional character’s established persona and speech patterns thus far.

Data

For your quick ref convenience, “sweethearts” meant in the traditional sense of the word have a ❤️ by the episode title. Let us begin. The facts are these:

SEASON ONE

1.02 Wendigo

[TO FEMALE CHARACTER] Well, sweetheart, I don’t do shorts.

1.16 Shadow

[DEAN looks at MEG, who smiles at him] Oh, sweetheart—you’re dumber than you look…

Later–>

MEG: You know, that shotgun’s not gonna do much good. DEAN: Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. The shotgun’s not for the demon.

SEASON TWO

2.06 No Exit

[TO JO] Sweetheart, this ain’t gender studies. Women can do the job fine. Amateurs can’t.

SEASON THREE

(The writers’ room got a real hard-on for it this season)

3.04 Sin City

[TO FEMALE CHARACTER] You know, you’re piling it pretty high there, sweetheart. I’m not sure I’m buying.

3.06 Red Sky at Morning

[TO BELA] Well, sweetheart, I don’t need your kind of help.

3.07 Fresh Blood

[TO FEMALE CHARACTER] Well, I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but your blood’s never pumping again.

3.11 Mystery Spot

[TO FEMALE SERVER] ‘Scuse me, sweetheart? Can I get sausage instead of bacon?

3.12 Jus in Bello

[TO BELA] Oh, I’ll find you, sweetheart. You know why? Because I have absolutely nothing better to do than to track…

3.15 Time Is on My Side

[TO BELA] Sweetheart, we are weeks past help.

SEASON FOUR

4.01 Lazarus Rising ❤️

[DEAN approaches the IMPALA, runs a hand along it] Hey, sweetheart, did you miss me?

SEASON FIVE

5.09 The Real Ghostbusters

[FEMALE CHARACTER walks into the room nervously] I don’t wanna do this.

[DEAN leans around the corner] I’m right here sweetheart, I’ve got your back. Trust me, this is going to work. [he then pulls back so he can’t be seen grimacing]

5.11 Sam, Interrupted

[FEMALE CHARACTER walks in their direction]

[DEAN spots her] Oh, no, no, no. Not today, sweetheart. Come on, keep walking…

5.12 Swap Meat

FEMALE SERVER: Here you go, guys.

DEAN: You know, do me a favor, sweetheart. Would you bring me a cheeseburger with extra bacon? And fry an egg on top of it, would you?

SEASON SEVEN

7.17 The Born-Again Identity

MEG: That hurts my feelings. I’ve been good to you, Dean.

DEAN: No, you’ve been good to you, sweetheart.

SEASON EIGHT

8.08 Hunteri Heroici

FEMALE CAREGIVER: You’re not supposed to be here.

DEAN: Well, trust me, sweetheart, you got bigger fish.

SEASON TEN

10.02 Reichenbach

[FEMALE DANCER is disgusted; she moves to leave] And we’re done.

[DEAN grabs at her] Hey, hey, hey. Song’s not over, sweetheart.

SEASON TWELVE

12.17 The British Invasion ❤️

[DEAN looks down sight of newly-returned Colt] Welcome back, sweetheart.

SEASON THIRTEEN

13.16 - Scoobynatural ❤️

[DEAN prepares to swing sledgehammer at enchanted TV] Sorry, sweetheart.

SEASON FIFTEEN

15.10 - The Heroes' Journey ❤️

[DEAN grabs the grenade launcher] Hey, sweetheart.

Analysis

Of 15 seasons and 320 total episodes aired as of this writing, "sweetheart" appears in [*adult] Dean's dialogue 20 times in 19 episodes. So, 19 is 5.9375% of 320. That's not even one quarter.

He just doesn’t use the word often, folks.

[Note: to get a precise percentage of its appearance in his actual dialogue, you’d need to count every single word the man has spoken - I’d think taking out “a”, “and”, “the”, and “I” would be acceptable - and good luck, there. I ain’t your girl. Another possibility would be to compare “sweetheart” to other nicknames he’s given people - again, knock yourself out. This is just to illustrate its appearances across seasons. A tangential comparison? Take your number of fics involving Dean - i.e., your # of episodes - count the “sweethearts”, and do your percentage.]

Of the 20 usages, 4 are of a clearly affectionate nature: once to Baby the Impala, once to the Colt, once to the enchanted television, once to the grenade launcher.

The remaining uses - all directed at female characters - are of a false comfort, patronizing, and/or manipulative nature, because a portion of Dean’s persona is that of an irredeemable asshole. The character is greater than the sum of his parts, true - but that is an undeniable part.

Thus, this does not seem to be a substitute name Dean Winchester bestows upon persons of a beloved nature. It is scantly, possibly endearing - albeit patronizing - when he’s used it as a substitute name for waitresses.

Visual Aids

[Note: Someone jokingly asked for a pie chart last time - ‘cause hello, what’s a Dean topic without PIE! - and I did them and they were silly. Here’s the replacement, which IMO is an improvement and completely scientifically accurate, I’m sure you’ll agree]

Wrap Up

Could there be any exceptions?

Sure. If he's Demon!Dean and it's not romantic and is a pure smutty hate f*ck - in that instance, the data would most assuredly support the author’s choice.

Also supportable would be complete off-the-rails AU fics [as in: Dean's not a hunter, he's a mechanic from Regular Town, USA] because in those cases, no one expects him to be canon-friendly.

Here, have a cheat sheet:

And what’s my personal opinion?

Dean doesn’t call people of significance by that endearment in a heartfelt manner, reserving it solely for inanimate objects (Baby, the Colt, the TV, and the grenade launcher), because they pose no threat of rejecting him. So... maybe it actually does mean something loving and sentimental to him. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t used it on someone he’s crazy about.... has he met that person yet? Again, maybe. Are the writers doing this purposefully? Is Jensen maybe slipping a handful of ‘em in, as well? Ya got me.

In any event, there’s the obvious: They’re all objects to him, useful for specific tasks regarding things he needs/wants - food, beer, sex, baiting a ghost, mindless entertainment - or they’re an adversary who is standing between him and something he needs/wants. Either way, all ultimately disposable. That ain’t sweet, nor does it have heart.

Bottom line

If you are professing that your story is canon?

Stop. Having. Dean. Call. You. Sweetheart.

You, your O.C., the friend you're writing into a fic so they can get boned by Dean, any other character you're having Dean bang-a-rang... if they don't go VROOOOM or go BOOM or go ZOOM, it's an inappropriate nickname.

Hypothesis on overall reception by SPN fanfiction authors, specifically those writing Dean in sexual/romantic encounters?

Utter rejection.

* Final Note: there is Teenage Dean usage of a snot-faced “sweetheart” that further supports the hypothesis, however it has been excluded due to age - as the topic is Dean in romantic/sexual fanfics - and due to the fact this was already a slam-dunk case.

Astute data-crunching followers have also pointed out the use of “sweetheart” by one John Winchester in a patronizing manner towards a female vampire.

The original data crunch - linked at top - also noted the use of an affectionate “sweetheart” by one Mary Winchester, which was directed towards Baby.

Sam is not covered here because I don’t care about him.

I’m kidding. To not care would be something, and I nothing Sam.

I’m kidding.

See? He gets me.

(Sources: Available SPN Wiki transcripts)

ETA: More sweetheart talk via “Dear Nash” HERE and HERE

ETA #2 [Feb. 2018]: Nash’s breakdown of how to assess & choose a NON-sweetheart endearment specifically for “Dean In Love” situations is HERE

* Up to date as of July 2020 *

#supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester #canon fodder #let me call you sweetheart #if Dean calls you sweetheart it is an insult #he does not call people he likes or loves sweetheart #just car and gun #even if the trend breaks once it will not be of statistical significance at this point #accept reality #or don't we're talking about fanfic here #I'm just sayin'#sorry not sorry #blah-blah-biscuits #Dean Meets Data #Nash Rants

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