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overwhelmedbyskeletons · 3 years

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When Nothing Moves

I can’t sleep. The sun is too bright.

I started this job cleaning out fruit slicers all night a month ago and I haven’t had a good nights sleep since. Every night filled with tossing and turning, trying to find a way to comfortably shield my eyes from the suns blinding light. Working a graveyard hours job meant I was sleeping all day and working all night. The cruddy curtains in my room were doing fuck-all for blocking out sunlight. Some of the guys at my job that were friendly enough told me to buy some blackout curtains and it will make my room completely dark, even with the sun beating down and hopefully it will help me get some good rest. after my work week ended, in my car I ordered that highest-reviewed blackout curtains I could find online and they were due to arrive at my apartment the next morning, in seven hours.

I woke the next day to a knock on my door and a shine directly into my eyes. I could have rearranged my entire room several times and still wouldn’t be able find a way to not get work on my tan while I sleep. I hurried to the door to get the package and gave a wave to the delivery driver before they made it down the stairs out of view.

Putting up the curtains was smooth, even though they were quite heavy material. My biggest fear was that they would pull the curtain rod from the wall, but that worry didn’t last long as the void that my bedroom had become was a sight for sore and tired eyes. I poured myself a glass of water in the kitchen before sitting down on my bed. Before I could take a sip, the comfort of my sheets began to sing symphonies to my tired muscles and lull me back to sleep.

I slept in, something that was unheard of even before I started my backwards sleep schedule. The clock on the bedside table read 9:23pm in red digital font, illuminating my wallet and phone that I had forgotten to plug in after last nights shift and was now most definitely dead. Still in a sleep state, I reached down to grab the charger and plug it into my phone when I heard a noise come from the other side of the bed. A tapping in a rhythmic matter, which would explain why i hadn’t noticed it sooner, but now it had gotten louder, almost annoyed at me paying it no mind and I froze leaning halfway off the bed. The jolt of fear that swarmed my body woke me up better than any instant java could ever wish. It knows that I know and its playing with me now. The tapping is getting faster and multiplies and I now that it is the sound of fingernails tapping on my wall.

(Did somebody break in am I really going to get murdered in my bed after the first night of decent sleep in my life?)

The tapping stopped suddenly, followed by a bang on the wall knocking out one of the nails holding up the curtains. My fists clenched among other things. I roll off the bed into a stance and with a sorry excuse of a warcry ready to fight whatever it was in my room to the death if need be. Nothing was there; I was sure of that. The curtains had fallen letting in the bright glow from the 7-11 across the street, revealing the only thing out of the ordinary in my room was that I needed to clean.

“Must’ve been a dream.” I said out loud, an attempt to calm myself after what I just experienced or just only imagined.

I flicked the flicked the lights on and fixed the curtains. Hammering in the nails all a little more for good measure before walking out of my room to start my day.

My apartment is in no meaning of the word interesting. I’ll state that I had, two chairs, a couch, some scattered goodwill tables of varying size, and a flatscreen TV on a small Swedish table decorated with a collection of games and movies. It wasn’t much, but I enjoyed what I had.

I prepared myself a bowl of cereal and sat on the couch to watch a show when I noticed movement down the hallway into my room. It wasn’t a natural movement in any sense and even now it is hard to explain. It was as if the world had lost focus of that specific spot in my bedroom doorway and it had grown hazy and distorted. It had the height of a man in a sheet ghost’s clothing and it was raising what I presumed to be its arms when an ad on the TV startled me back to reality. I started up a show and began eating my food quickly, doing my best to forget what might be lurking down the hall and failing as thoughts raced through my head.

(I didn’t check under the bed FUCK no one can fit under there anyways FUCK THE CLOSET FUCK it’s nothing probably just a reflection YOU HAVE NO MIRRORS IN THERE DUMBASS AND YOU CLOSED THE CURTAINS IT’S A GHOST YOU ARE BEING HAUNTED CONGRATULATIONS SHIRLEY FUCKING JACKSON WOULD WRITE A BOOK ABOUT YOU CALLED THE IDIOT’S HAUNTING IF SHE WAS STILL ALIVE)

Frustrated with myself I hopped up and marched down the hall to my room huffing and puffing with each authoritative stomp, making sure that whoever await beyond the door knew I meant the most serious of business, as well as sloshing my breakfast everywhere. As I pushed the door open fully I was rushed by what I can only describe as a shadow, knocking me on my back. spilling cereal and milk all over me and as I looked up I could see the shadow turn left at the end of the hallway into the TV room and out of my sight.

I was terrified. I tried to stand myself up while keeping my sights on where I last saw it. As I got to my knees and began to prop up, the shadow peaked around the corner with a featureless, translucent face starring at me with what I assumed was malicious intent. Frozen in fear, I could only muster up the breath to ask a single question.

“Who?”

To which, to my absolute horror it responded in a echoed whisper.

“Boo.”

And vanished.

With my pants shit and my legs like jello, it took me a moment to breath, let alone move. When Blood returned to my veins I hastily made my way to the bathroom to clean myself of spilled Golden Grahams and milk and to face the realization that what I had just witnessed was anything but normal. I spent a moment arguing with my thoughts, fighting the impulse to sleep in my car. My reflection in the bathroom mirror helped to ground me in reality, to remind me that I am fine and no harm was done. I convinced myself of a resident Casper The Friendly, albeit roughhousing ghost. I soon after left the bathroom.

I poured myself another, bigger bowl of cereal and sat down to watch anything the TV had to offer. I spent the rest of the night on the couch, eating and finding any excuse to not look down the hallway.

At around 2:51am I had had enough of wracking my brain, thinking that at any moment the shadow would reappear and attack me again, this time finishing the job. I bolted down the hallway to my bedroom, grabbed my keys and wallet and headed out my apartment to go across the street to the 7-11 for a early morning slurpee. The cashier knew me and joked about my usual purchase of sugary drinks and snacks. I gave no response, paid my $6.23 and headed out the door.

As I was crossing the street back to my apartment, I looked up to my second floor bedroom window, half hoping to see nothing, other half expecting bloody Mary herself. After what I had been through that night, I’m not sure why I even went back into that apartment. The curtain rod had been torn out of the wall again and standing in my room were two of the shadow figures latched to the windowsill, with the distinct outline of hands pushed against the glass. They watched me as I continued crossing the street; my heart was almost bursting out of my chest. I was running on fear induced auto-pilot and my destination was my apartment door. When I reached my door I finally paused and reflected on what had happened tonight.

(If they wanted me dead, They could have done it already. They were playing games with me, but why?)

I stood in front of my door for a minute before realizing I had never locked it and walked right in ready to confront whatever was inside. I flicked the kitchen light on, set my drink and bag down, and looked down the dark hallway. Spilling out of my room were dozens of shadows piling over each other, all different shapes and heights of darkness, fading in and out as if there was a draft blowing through them. I began nervously pacing in my small kitchen, checking on the hallways inhabitants every few rounds. They never moved. After a while a voice moaned from my bedroom.

“Leave”

“No.” I spat out responded in annoyance.

“Leave or...”

“Or fucking what?” I shouted with such ferocity that my neighbors definitely heard me.

“Die.”

All the blood drained from my face and immediately the shadows in the hall began screaming and moaning, shifting from side to side,all while inching towards me. My legs turned gave out from under me. trying to catch myself from falling I had turned the kitchen light off which seemed to invite the shadows to come closer. As they got closer, their faces appeared mangled and distorted consisting of holes where a human features should be. As their shadows began to overtake my motionless body, I shut my eyes so tight that it hurt. Amidst the moaning I heard one last phrase.

“Sleep again now. We’ll do the rest.”

The next thing I know, i’m laying on the doormat outside of my apartment. I didn’t care how I got there. I quickly got on my feet and down the stairs to my car. I closed my eyes as I backed out of the parking lot. I didn’t want to ever look at that window ever again.

I stayed at my friend Aiden’s place for a week. He lived alone, so he liked the company and he had the room for it, so he didn’t mind. I had told him a lie of how the landlord was spying on me when I showered and once tried to seduce me while fixing the sink. I think he believed it.

I only wanted to go back to the apartment once to get my stuff. After a week of staying with Aiden, the two of us drove to the apartment building and found that where my bedroom window used to be was blown out, stained black with burn marks. Aiden didn’t know what to say and I was beyond confused. We parked the car and I went to the landlord’s door alone and asked what had happened. He told me in detail that four days again my room had exploded from a gas leak and that I was lucky I went on vacation or else i’d be a deadman. There was nothing to be packed up that wasn’t ash. I apologized to him about his building, and said goodbye. I headed back to my friends car who was waiting with a drink for me from across the street. I got into the car without a word.

“What the fuck happened? Did he try to kill you? Tried to burn you alive cuz you weren’t turned on by his wrinkles?” Aiden said as he started the car.

“No, he doesn’t know what happened. Gas leak they think, he told me.” I said. “Let me take one last look.”

“Oh, sure. Of course.” He said, shutting the engine off. I rested my arms on the top of his car looking up to my once bedroom window now black from the fires, but somehow still intact. I thought I saw something and ran across the street to see it closer. There were two marks on the burnt windowsill; marks I could swear were burned in hands.

“You ok, Rick?” Aiden shouted from the driver’s seat.

“Yea, no, I’m good. Just getting a closer look.” I said as I ran back to the car. “Just saying goodbye is all.”

“Well alrighty, you want to grab some burgers?”

I nodded and smiled.

I never asked him if he saw the handprints.

We pulled out of the parking lot, passing my old apartment building one last time. I instinctively waved to the window that used to be my bedroom. Nothing waved back.

#short story #ghosts #horror #short-story

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megbox · 3 years

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2020 Year in Review

Previous Posts: (2019) (2018) (2017) (2016) (2015) (2014) (2013) (2012) (2011)

2020 is a weird year because as the world goes through something collectively extremely traumatic and that is radically changing the structure of our lives, our workplaces, the way we connect socially, our mental health… our response to disease…. SO MUCH ABOUT THE WORLD…. And yet the day-to-day of living in a pandemic is so… mundane. I am privileged enough to have that opinion. I have stayed securely employed and it is privilege for my main reaction to something as intense as this pandemic to be boredom. But really, 2020 was a year of absences. It was a year spent largely alone, in my own company. It was a year that forced me to rest. It was a year that made me feel so terribly lonely but also forced me to get acquainted with myself and enjoy my own company in a new way. And it was a year of running.

I would also like to thank Connor for making this post happen by reminding me to do it and not to break tradition.

January & February

I am combining these months because they were not altogether all that memorable. My resolutions, as I noted on Twitter on January 2, were to 1) Keep running and 2) Learn how to make fresh pasta dough. I can safely say – mission accomplished on both fronts.

On January 14, I had the privilege of presenting a suicide intervention lecture to students at the medical school where my brother goes. By that time, I’d done a million of these presentations so nerves aren’t really a factor (imagine that! Me, no longer remotely afraid of public speaking…), but this one meant a little extra to me. My brother is so highly accomplished, and I am so proud of him, and I enjoyed having an opportunity to show him what I do and make him proud of me. I wore my favourite dress and did my hair all nice and he described it later as “exceptional.” It was a really, really good feeling. The first weekend of February, Ali and I had planned to go to Jasper. We wanted to go for a hike or two, and get super stoned and go to the planetarium. A huge blizzard hit Alberta just before we were supposed to leave, so we ended up having a staycation here in Calgary. We rented a hotel room, went swimming, drank wine, went to Japanese Village, had drinks in the lounge and then later to a punk rock band roulette night at the Palomino and finally crawled into our giant hotel bed and fell asleep to Remember the Titans… of all movies. It was the kind of night where you simultaneously feel 18 and 35 years old.

March

March was when the pandemic really started to become real. I don’t know exactly why, but I did not take the threat of coronavirus very seriously until the last minute. My coworkers would whisper about it in the hallways and I just rolled my eyes. But then, people started deciding they would work from home, the number of us in the office dwindled. The vibe was bad. Nobody could really focus. They held meetings at 8am and 4pm every day just for COVID-19 updates and we all waited with bated breath for them to finally tell us to go home and not come back. I really feel like I didn’t acknowledge the true implications of this virus until we got the official work from home order, and I had to tell my boss, my laptop at home is too old to run this software, I need a work tablet. My first official work from home day was March 23, 2020. I don’t remember much about that time except that the general sense of panic and anxiety made my job a lot busier, and it is hard to do a job like mine from home because it is hard to counsel or reassure clients through anxieties that are hitting you just as hard. I coped with wine, a lot of running, and listening to Ben Gibbard’s afternoon live streams where he would play acoustic versions of Death Cab songs and other covers. He played New Slang by the Shins one night and I burst into tears. I also coped with teaching myself how to make fresh pasta dough, and enjoying what was, at that point in the pandemic, the novelty and fun of Zoom.

April

In the absence of being able to have a party for my birthday, I decided to be obnoxious and do a “challenge” on my Instagram story. I asked my friends to record a distance run and/or walked and send it to me as a birthday present. My actual birthday ended up being a cold and windy and pretty miserable day. I ran 12km myself, came back home and watched both Magic Mike and Magic Mike XXL, and then went to my parents’ to celebrate both Scott and I’s birthdays with our family. My friends dropped off presents to my door and drove past my house and honked and I felt very loved and appreciated. I drank a lot of Prosecco with my brother and we listened to Kacey Musgraves.

It was also in April that I become “acquainted” with my neighborhood running nemesis. I put acquainted in apostrophes because I have never actually spoken to him. On one fateful run in April, I happened to catch up to him on my regular route. This was at the height of the COVID fear and so, while I would usually just pass someone on the sidewalk, I went out into the street. He saw me out of the corner of his eye and SPED UP. WHICH IS SUCH BAD RUNNER ETIQUETTE LIKE DUDE I’M IN THE ROAD LET ME PASS YOU. And then we ended up in this like, all-out 100m-finals-at-the-motherfucking-Olympics sprint challenge when all I was trying to do was go for a leisurely training run. And then I finally passed him, turned a corner and had to like collapse on to my hands and knees to catch my breath. Since then, I see this man running all the time. Sometimes while I am also running, sometimes from my car when I am driving through my neighborhood. He’s like… 16. And we are very competitive with one another. I hope to one day actually say hello to him. I both hate that guy and have to thank him for the motivation.

I ran my first half marathon on April 13, 2020. I was very hungover because I had stayed up quite late with someone on Zoom the night before on a virtual “first date” that had gone much better than anticipated. I don’t know why but I woke up the next morning in such a good mood that I decided I would go for a long, slow run. I got to 18km and figured, what’s 3.1 more? And so, I did it. The first thing I did upon finishing was call my mom. The second thing I did was contemplate calling an Uber to drive me the 2km left to my house. The other notable thing in April is that Maddy moved back from Australia, begrudgingly and a LOT earlier than planned, because of COVID.

May

May was kind of a blur. It was the first month of the Great Virtual Race Across Tennessee, which I signed up for while coming off of the high of actually running a half marathon all by myself. The GVRAT was fucking awesome. It was created by Lazarus Lake, of Barkley Marathons fame. The ask is to run 1022.68km between May 1 and August 31, an average of about 8.3km per day. Well, you could run, walk, or hike. This is the actual distance it would take you to cover the state of Tennessee. Myself and about 20,000 other weirdos from around the world signed up for this challenge. I figured I would never get a chance to run in a Lazarus Lake race for real, and being home all the time opened up a lot more opportunity for training. It was one of the very best things I did for myself in 2020. So May involved a lot of running, because I was fresh and naïve and fully intended to be ahead of the curve. I was running about 10-12 per day, sometimes more, and not taking any rest days.

In between these runs, I spent a lot of time going on long, ambling quarantine walks with Maddy. We would either go for a long walk or she would come over and we would get absolutely hammered in my backyard playing beer pong just to pass the time. We would send snapchats to our exes and make TikToks like 18 year olds. I know we never really said it out loud but having eachother during this time made these months bearable. We were lamenting the loss of a summer, and Maddy’s time in Australia, and all of the expectations we had for ourselves. We were watching our friends in relationships move in together or get closer due to the quarantine. We needed companionship, and stupid things to laugh about, and love, and distraction. And I can genuinely say I would not have gotten through this quarantine period if it weren’t for the nights I spent shooting Pink Whitney and dancing to Party in the USA in my living room with her.

May 13th was my one year anniversary of working at the university. It felt good to have accomplished so many things in that time, and have moved up already in my job, and to have a full-time, permanent contract.

And May 16th was when I ran my second half-marathon as part of a virtual challenge put on by a friend of a friend. My parents came and sat in lawn chairs in the park while I did loops. They cheered me on and filled my water bottle for me when I ran out. They’re my number one supporters and I love having a family that does that kind of shit for me in the face of something arbitrary like a virtual half marathon challenge. I knocked 7 minutes (!) off my original time. Amazing what not being hungover can do for your fitness levels.

June

I don’t remember many important things about June, other than Maddy moving to Banff. It was depressing but I was also happy for her and happy to have an excuse to go out there and visit. I went the very first weekend after she moved. Halfway through June I seriously contemplated quitting the GVRAT. My shins were bruised, I was dreading every single run, and I could not fathom doing it for 2.5 more months. I was dragging behind in the standings and losing my motivation.

I spent a lot of time with friends reading in parks. Sometimes, often, with wine. I met a stranger in Canmore Park and ended up kissing him. He was lovely.

Ali and I had one really good day in June where we went to the Farmer’s Market and then came back to her place and watched Ru Paul’s drag race for like eight straight hours. It was one of those days where we hadn’t seen each other in so long and you just feel totally high off of friendship and absolutely everything is funny and you just can’t stop laughing. I vividly remember it as one of the best days of the year.

July

Again, July kind of passed in a blur. I did a lot of hiking, and a lot of running… keeping up with the GVRAT. I hiked Picklejar Lakes, Castle Mountain, Little Beehive Lookout.

I went to Banff for a weekend to hang out with Maddy. We had a predictably wild weekend with her roommates and friends. We had dinner at Chili’s (hell yeah) and then went to High Rollers for beers and bowling. The “thing to do” at that point for all of these Banff people was to meet at the “rec grounds” aka public firepits and drink. The police would generally leave you alone so long as you weren’t being rowdy. I sat next to an Australian named Josh at a picnic table and later took him back to my hotel room and he gave me the world’s most unbelievable obvious hickey. Maddy and I sweat out the tequila shots the next day with a long ass hike, and then had a nap before her brother came and took us climbing at the Sunshine slabs – an activity I was not very good at but I wanted to be good at. It was the kind of weekend where you feel like, okay, I definitely indulged my wild side. And you drive home just like totally exhausted but smiling. I sent Maddy’s brother a voice note on my way into town thanking him for taking us climbing and saying it was nice to see him.

August

Okay – August was actually really eventful. Like most of the year’s events happened in August, honestly. A lot of running and hiking. I did Ha Ling Peak for the first time, and we did a 30km hike to Aylmer Pass one day that was a fricken GRIND. I spent the long weekend in Saskatchewan. We went to a cidery, and I ran laps around my Dodo’s acreage, and then we got to visit Wakaw Lake and reunite with our old next-door neighbours. We took the boat out and went tubing and lit fireworks and had an amazing dinner and honestly it was like reliving my childhood in the best, best, best way. I fell asleep on the car ride home.

I went camping with Ali in Sylvan Lake. We got ice cream and cooked fish tacos over the campfire. She told me that Cody had a date planned for the day they took possession of their house, that she wondered if he might ask her to marry him but didn’t want to get her hopes up in case it didn’t happen and ruin what otherwise was supposed to be a celebratory day. Spoiler – he did ask her to marry him  I was running when she called me. I was listening to Epsilon by Kygo, and now when I hear that song I always think of them. I stopped my watch and just openly bawled on the street out of happiness for them.

Steven successfully defended his master’s thesis. We went camping in Waterton to celebrate with Matt, Kennedy, Regan, Scott, and Rie. They brought cake. We did a sunrise hike. I slept in the back of my Ford Escape.

On August 27, Ollie passed away. It was both expected and unexpected. He had been having some issues with seizures. The vet didn’t think it was anything to be too concerned about, he was old and it wasn’t uncommon for them to happen. It happened suddenly. I had a terrible sleep that night, and woke up in a cold sweat somewhere between 3 and 4 am. In the morning, my mom called me and told me the news. He had a giant seizure in the night and was crying and yelping. They woke up and took him to the emergency vet, they made the executive call to put him down to prevent any further suffering. He died right around the time I woke up in the middle of the night. I like to think that was his way of saying goodbye, maybe. I cried all day. Well, let’s be honest, I cried all week. I burst into tears at the mere thought of him. He was such a good and lovely dog. He was so loved by us. He had a good life. It is always sad when we lose pets so early. They bring so much joy to our lives, and still when I go to my parents’ place the first thing I want to do is call for him or pet him. I hope he is running around in whatever the pet afterlife is. I miss him.

And on August 31, I ran my last kilometre of the GVRAT. I finished with 733.78 run, 83.18 hiked, and 205.09 walked.

September

September was a nice break from running. I got to start coming to campus one day a week, on Thursdays, which was good for my mental health and work productivity. I got to spend September long in Vernon with Maeghan and Madison at Michael’s family’s cabin. They took us boating and made us meals and didn’t judge us for drinking margaritas with Michael’s sister literally all day. It was the best. It was the epitome of every summer weekend you dream about. I was so happy I got to go.

I met a boy in September. It’s always September, isn’t it? It feels weird to write about him. Like, that makes him significant. But. He is significant. And I met him in September. And it was unexpected. Last minute. And essentially not a day has gone by since that day in September that I have not thought about him.

I also joined a Calgary Sport and Social Club team with my friends for softball and it started in September. We played two games and then I tore my hamstring running from second to third base. I tore… my hamstring…. Running like 30 metres…. After a summer of literally running 10+ km every day. I… it was the worst day ever. Softball itself was amazing and so fun even though I really do suck at the sport but highly recommend Rec League C-level beer league softball with all of your best friends. There’s just no way that isn’t fun.

October

A lot of pouting about my hamstring, I went to two physio sessions and then decided to just start running again. I’m bad. I’m a bad example. Don’t do what I do… but also…. It worked.

I went to Victoria to visit Sydney over the Thanksgiving weekend. We went to a Thanskgiving potluck party at my old coworker’s place. It was a nice experience to be the new people at a party, to have a room full of new people to meet and who ask you questions about your life. We got really drunk and they tried setting Sydney up with one of their roommate’s brothers, and gave us lipstick to try, and poured us tequila shots. We had such an amazing meal. It was honestly so fun. We laughed in the cab the whole way back about how we were going to need to debrief that evening HARD the next morning. We watched a lot of All Gas No Brakes, and went for dinner and brunch and I limped up Mount Doug with my hamstring. It was a very very chill weekend, like we spent a lot of time just lounging at Sydney’s apartment and doing nothing. Because that is the kind of friends we are. It was so relaxing and lovely. I was sad to leave.

Karla, my roommate, left for New York at the end of October. Her aunt was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, and she and her mom made the executive move to go there to basically be with her for the end of her life. She wasn’t going to be back until December. I was happy, because it’s nice to have a place to myself, but also sad because Karla is lovely and I knew it was going to be a stressful situation for her.

November / December

I am combining these two months because they have also been largely uneventful. In fact… I don’t know if I could really tell you anything significant that happened. We’ve been in a lockdown. I’ve spent my time playing piano, watching Netflix, listening to podcasts, basically doing all of the things I usually do when I’m bored. Lots of Among Us. Lots of outdoor things… skating… more running. We’ve been in a lockdown since early December. Time has dragged on since then. I spent Christmas with my parents. Scott and Rie stayed isolated, because Scott is in and out of the hospital for school. My mom and I watched shitty Christmas Hallmark movies and made fun of the guys who star in them. We drank a LOT on Christmas Eve and both spent Christmas with a wicked hangover. My dad and I ate edibles and I was launched into the stratosphere. I spent New Year’s Eve with Boy from September. We played beer pong, and card games, and he tried to use a coat hangover to pick the lock on the mysterious room that my landlord keeps locked. We spent most of the night kissing, honestly. I was happy to spend the last moments of the year with him.

2021:

Honestly... at this point... who really knows?

#year in review #text #personal #2020

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three-drink-amy · 4 years

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All the Shine of a Thousand Spotlights

We’re back with Arc II!! Thank you so much for the support for Arc I! I hope you enjoy what’s to come!

masterlist - AO3

Arc II

Chapter Nine: Take My Hand, Will You Share This With Me

I made sure Jamie got to the theater before I did. Even if no one would suspect anything, we couldn’t walk in together. I worried that perhaps you could just see it in our demeanors. What if we both look like we’d just spent the last several hours having mind blowing, long overdue sex? Would people know it was together? Would our secret get out that fast?

I took a moment just inside the door, closing my eyes and taking a breath. We could do this. No one likely cared about our personal lives enough to pay close attention to us. Jamie was now a professional actor, so hopefully he’d have no trouble pretending things were normal.

I walked into my office that was now transitioning into the stage manager’s office. John was sitting on my couch, seemingly waiting for me. “Hey!” he said, startling me a bit.

“Hi.”

“How was your night last night?”

“What?” I asked, looking over at him suspiciously. He gave me an odd look. “It was fine. I just went home.”

“Louise said you went to the after party at her house.”

I nodded, sitting down in the chair. “I did. Very briefly. I was reminded quite quickly why I don’t usually go to them.”

“Was there a certain reason you went when you don’t usually go?” John pressed.

I watched him for a moment. It was clear he was fishing for some sort of information. I shrugged. “Curiosity?”

“So it had nothing to do with a certain Scot?” He raised one brow at me.

I glared at him. It was my only defense. “You’re going to make me regret ever telling you anything. If you’re not careful, I’ll start working with someone else.”

John laughed as he stood up. “Like you’ll ever actually get rid of me. You’ll never want to.” He shot me a look as he walked out of my office. I was starting to get worried that he’d make some pointed comment around Jamie. Or worse, watch our interactions too closely. I didn’t think John would actually tell anyone, but I didn’t want to risk it.

I sat in my office for a while longer, talking with the stage manager as she came in, and reviewing things from the night before. About a half hour before the show was due to start, there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” I called without looking up.

“Hi. Do ye mind if I ask ye something?” I turned to look at Jamie. He seemed to be a bit nervous. “It’s about the show,” he clarified in a loud voice.

I nodded and he closed the door quietly behind him. “What’s up?”

“Tis no’ actually about the show,” he told me as he sat down in the chair across from my desk.

I smiled, shaking my head at him. “Then, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I just received a message from my sister. Apparently they were hoping to catch me after the show this evening,” he explained, a strained look on his face. “And I ken that we said —”

“Jamie, go see your family,” I all but commanded him. His mouth opened to reply, but I kept going. “You hardly ever get to see them since they live all the way in Scotland. Go see them. It’s fine.”

He took a deep breath. “Are ye sure?”

My head tilted as I looked back at him, a soft smile crossing my face. “Yes. You don’t need to worry. You should see your family.”

Jamie nodded slowly. “Alright.” He sat there, another question in his eyes. I narrowed my eyes at him til he cracked. “Look, they will likely ask what happened last night.”

“Do you really think I’m going to sit here and tell you not to tell your family?” He shrugged. “The reasons we agreed to —” I looked to the door and dropped my voice “— keep things a secret was because we don’t want any rumors or such to hurt your career.”

“Or yers,” he added.

I smiled as I nodded. “Yes. But I seriously doubt that your family would want to hurt your attempts at furthering your career, right?”

He nodded. “That makes sense. I just…” he stopped, taking a deep breath. “I dinna want to mess anything up.”

I wanted, more than anything, to get up and walk around my desk — to go to him. But I couldn’t. Anyone could walk in. I couldn’t comfort him in the way my body was crying out to. “I know. But you’re not.” I held his gaze. “I promise.” Clearing my throat, I broke the moment. “Now, you clearly haven’t been in makeup yet. Go get ready.”

He smiled at me, at the return to our regular dynamic. “Aye, I will.” He turned at the door, looking back at me. “I’ll see ye out there.”

* * *

The second show went just as successfully as the first. Jamie was flying high as he left the theater that night. He’d spotted Claire on his way out, giving her a meaningful look as he walked past her. The smile she’d flashed back had left him feeling almost weightless. He hated that he couldn’t walk over and kiss her, promising to see her later. Instead, he gave her a nod and walked out the stage door. His family waited for him just outside the door, giving him his first taste of fans waiting to talk to him.

Jenny was the first to him, throwing her arms around him. “Another brilliant show, Brother!”

Jamie hugged her back, giving her a squeeze. “Thank ye.” He looked up at his parents and Ian. “I’m glad ye all could come again.”

“We live too far away to only see ye once,” his father informed him. “We’ll be seeing ye plenty of times in the next week, son.”

Jamie smiled, clapping his father on the shoulder. “I appreciate it. Now, Mam, I’m sure ye’ve researched extensively on where ye’d like to eat. What are ye thinking?”

His mother started chatting away excitedly, asking him to lead them to the place she’d selected. He grinned, steering his clan away from the theater. There was a part of him that wished he could have asked Claire to join them. Perhaps it was too soon for that. The night before, she’d certainly gotten on well with them.

As they sat down at their table, Jamie stared at the menu, ignoring Jenny’s eyes on him. “So?” she asked.

He looked at her, brows raised. “So, what?”

“Dinna play daft wi’ me, brother.” She rolled her eyes at him. “What happened last night?”

“Aye, ye never told us,” Ian agreed.

The waitress thankfully chose that moment to take everyone’s drink orders. Jenny rushed them all into ordering so she could get back to interrogating Jamie in peace.

“Alright, tis just us again. What happened?”

Jamie shrugged, still looking over his menu. “No’ much. I found her and we talked.”

“Ye talked?” Ian asked, a disbelieving tone to his voice. “Come on, Jamie.”

“What do ye want me to say?”

“We want ye to tell us how it went!” Ellen told him. “Did ye tell her how ye feel? Did she tell ye how she feels? Did ye decide to try being together?”

“Did ye spend the night together?” Ian continued.

“Ian.” Jamie glared at him. Ian simply shrugged in reply.

“Fine, dig it all out, why don’t ye?” Jamie sighed. “Alright, so I went to her home and she wasna there. I waited and when she showed up, we started talking. There was a lot to clarify about the months we’d been dancing around feelings and such. So we talked things out. Yes, Mam, I said how I felt. And she also said how she felt. And at the end of it, we decided that, yes, we did want to try being together.”

Ellen clapped her hands together, squealing a bit. “I’m so happy for ye, my boy.”

“Ye didna answer my question,” Ian reminded him.

Jamie glared at him again. “Seriously, man?”

“Curious minds want to ken.”

“Ian, just let it go,” Jenny advised. “The rest of us dinna need to ken the ins and outs of Jamie’s private life.”

“I must ask ye to keep that information to yerselves though,” Jamie implored, looking at each of them. “It’s...a secret.”

“Why? Is she ashamed of ye?” Ellen asked.

Jamie shook his head vehemently. “No. At least, I dinna think so. No, it has to do wi’ my career. We dinna want anyone to make assumptions or start rumors that I only got the part because of my relationship wi’ her. Or for that matter, for her to get a bad reputation from it either.” He took a deep breath. “We’re just trying to protect each other, really.”

Jenny nodded. “I can understand that. And I can promise ye that we’ll all keep our lips sealed.”

“Aye,” Brian agreed. “We’re just happy ye’re happy.”

Jamie smiled brightly. “I am. I really am.” He took a sip of his drink, feeling a bit relieved. “So, what is on the agenda for ye tomorrow?”

His mother took the conversation and ran with it, informing him of each tourist trap she planned to drag the rest of the Fraser/Murray clan to. Jamie smiled and nodded along as his mother got more and more excited. He felt a vibration against his leg. Thinking it might be Claire, Jamie pulled his phone out.

You never answered my question.

Jamie looked over at Ian. He had one brow raised, staring back at him. Looking back at the other members of his family, Jamie made sure they were absorbed in his mother’s story. Noting that all eyes were on Ellen, he turned back to Ian, nodding slightly. Ian grinned broadly, smacking his knee under the table. Jamie’s phone buzzed again quickly.

That’s my boy.

“Don’t be gross,” Jamie whispered to him. Ian just chuckled and shook his head, turning back to Ellen’s conversation.

* * *

I was sitting in my pajamas, nursing a glass of wine as the TV played ahead of me. It had been a while since I’d sat and let myself enjoy a quiet night to myself. Well, at least one where I wasn’t trying to distract myself from something bigger. Something Jamie sized. I took another sip of wine as a contestant’s cake was criticized. Curling further under my blanket, I tried to ignore my phone.

I’d checked my phone too many times throughout the evening, waiting to see if Jamie would text or call me. I was the one who told him to go see his family. But at the same time, I also wished he’d been here instead. Now that I had the chance to act on my feelings for him, I found I wanted to all the time. A small part of my brain wondered if that was normal or not. Had I lost all sense of self-control? Perhaps only when it came to Jamie Fraser.

After checking my phone for the tenth time in a minute, I threw it across the couch, trying to act like a mature adult. A pillow fell over it and I left it hidden. I needed to stop constantly waiting for a man to contact me. We’d started our relationship — if you could even call it that yet — yesterday, for crying out loud. I could stand to be a little less available and obsessive.

I was into my third episode of Bake-Off when there was a knock at my door. Pausing the TV, I grabbed my phone, noting several missed texts. A stupid smile crossed my face as I got up to walk to the door. I opened it slowly, trying not to seem too eager. Jamie braced himself against either side of my doorway as he bore an almost desperate expression.

“You’re here,” I remarked.

“Ye dinna ken how to answer yer phone, do ye?” he asked, a cheeky smile on his face.

“I hid it,” I confessed. He looked confused. I reached a hand out, running my fingers along the buttons of his shirt. “I was staring at it for too long, daring it to show me a new text. So I threw it on my couch and left it under some pillows.”

He nodded, an amused look on his face. I hooked a finger in his shirt and he allowed himself to be dragged over the threshold of my home. “I was verra worrit about ye. So, I simply had to come over to check and make sure ye were okay.” He pushed the door closed behind him.

I stood close to him, looking up into his deep blue eyes. “That’s very chivalrous of you.”

A hand reached out to brush a few curls back. “I do what I can,” he whispered before bringing me in for a kiss. My arms flew around his neck. So much for being less available. He held me close, kissing me deeply. It had only been a handful of hours since we’d last stood by my door, kissing the other. Perhaps it was something to do with the fact that we couldn’t kiss at the theater that made us all the more desperate for each other now.

I pulled back, panting slightly. “I didn’t think you were coming here tonight.” My hand was tangled in his hair.

His hands tightened on my waist. “Do ye want me to go?”

My eyes met his quickly, no doubt a pleading look in mine. “Not at all.” I leaned up and kissed him softly. “It was just a nice surprise,” I whispered.

He started walking me back, moving toward the couch. “I thought about going home,” he told me. “But it just seemed somehow even more lonely now.”

I smiled, pushing him down where I’d just been sitting and climbing on his lap. “I couldn’t agree more.” I met him for a long kiss. His fingers dug into my hips as my tongue sought his. “Can I say something stupid?”

He pulled back, looking at me with a curious expression. “Of course.”

I kissed him again quickly, settling against him. “This is nice.”

Jamie chuckled lightly, pressing a kiss to the side of my jaw. “Aye, ‘tis.” He glanced behind me. “What are we watching?”

“Bake-Off.”

“How verra British of ye,” he teased.

I rolled off his lap and sat right next to him. “Hardly. Plenty of Americans are obsessed with the show.”

He looked at me critically. “Are ye saying ye’d rather be American than British?”

I laughed loudly, my head falling against his shoulder. “Goodness, it did sound like that, didn’t it?” He grinned as he nodded. “It’s odd, because I am British and I made damn sure I held onto the accent. But I haven’t lived there longer than a short vacation in thirty years.”

Jamie looked over at me. “Have ye ever been to Scotland?”

“Nope.”

He took his hand in mine. “Well maybe someday I can take ye there,” he offered.

I looked up at him, noting his sincerity. “I’d like that.”

He leaned down and kissed me softly. I started to lay back, pulling him with me. His body hovered over mine. Jamie pulled back, simply staring down at me. He started peppering me with kisses. “How was it for ye today?”

I grabbed his face in my hands, holding him steady, above me. My eyes drank him in for a long moment. “It was hard. But I made it.” I leaned up and kissed him. “And you?”

A small smile crossed his face. “Felt nearly impossible to leave yer office wi’out kissing ye or touching ye.” He kissed the side of my neck. “But like ye said, I made it.”

My hands rested at his neck. “How about you make up for it now?” I suggested, one eyebrow arched.

His eyes darkened as he stared down at me. He sat up a bit, stripping his jacket off quickly, throwing it to the floor. “Yer wish is my command.” Before I could reply, his mouth was back at my neck, his hand squeezing tightly at my waist. The sounds that were escaping me should have been embarrassing. But I was far too focused on the way it felt to have him over me, paying all his attention to me. At some point, his foot hit the remote and the TV unpaused. I vaguely heard Mel and Sue’s voices sounding through the room. As his hand moved between my legs, our combined sounds drowned out anything else.

Next chapter

#outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #my writing #all the shine of a thousand spotlights

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tortoisesshells · 3 years

Text

Buying Time (2/6, probably, who knows, ~2,800 words, some salty language and more ways to not deal with grief)

Customs and Duties, but make it a modern!fake-dating AU with a severe lack of fake dating and more historical minutiae than any self-respecting modern AU should have; Part the Second, in which neither party has any luck with antique clocks, despite planned and unplanned meetings.

He never did see that coat again. Either someone had taken it, or maybe it had somehow found its way into the water that seemed omnipresent in that place – tidal creeks and ponds, the little river, the sea itself. One of life’s mysteries. There were others, from that day in January, but it was easier to think about the coat he’d lost.

Or why that particular shop: there was a bookstore nearby, and frankly that seemed a better place to finish sobering up before driving on to New York – where he would, in all likelihood, end up maudlin drunk on Andy Gillette’s couch, but at least get the thin satisfaction of someone worrying about him. At any road, he’d looked at the sign for S. J. Treat & E. C. Treat, Antiques – quaint, with a little hour-glass carved next to the names, and found himself inside – where he’d proceeded to make a complete ass of himself before the proprietor, who, contrary to what a sensible person would have done, sat him in a (modern) chair behind the counter and poured coffee from a thermos that might have actually have been an antique, listened to him ramble about Decatur and Barron because he’d been thinking that maybe his ancestors had been onto something, with their elaborate and ritualized pretenses for beating the shit out of each other over “honor” – and, after she was satisfied he was safe to drive, Mrs. Treat made sure he had his keys, wallet, phone, and a water bottle before wishing him well.

When he returned to Boston, he penned a note of thanks, knowing that it was wholly inadequate. Then, after his series of stilted emails with Elizabeth over the disposition of the apartment and everything in it, he’d had the idea.

Mrs. Treat politely insisted he pick the restaurant , since he was paying, and he insisted that she pick the restaurant, as she knew the area better than him. They probably would have stood there in the square batting courtesies back and forth like a deranged game of shuttlecock, before he made a tentative suggestion – which, contrary to her earlier assertions that she wasn’t picky – Mrs. Treat scoffed at as both too trendy and too loud, and steered them off in the direction of an unassuming shingle-sided tavern he hadn’t looked twice at on his initial and inebriated visit.

“It’ll be reasonably quiet,” she said, “And there’s a decent chance they’ve got the Franklin stove going.”

With that ringing endorsement, she ushered him into the bar, waved to the bartender, and pointed to a table that was, indeed, right next to an ancient woodstove – and sat in the chair closest to it.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Mrs. Treat said, by way of an apology, “I get cold easily.”

“Not at all,” he replied, looking around the low-ceilinged room. “The decoration is …”

“A little idiosyncratic?”

He nodded.

“It’s what the tourists expect, I think.”

“They expect harpoons?”

“They’re not used,” Mrs. Treat said, with an expression that was very nearly a smile, “You’d be able to tell if they were. There’s a lot to be said about common misconceptions regarding 18th and 19th century maritime activity in this neck of the woods – or the coast, as the case may be – but that’s not what we came here to talk about.”

James privately wondered how you went about telling how a harpoon had been used, but missed his chance to ask: Mrs. Treat briskly arranged the tablet, folders, and notepads on the table, pausing only for the waitress to take their lunch order. Mrs. Treat recommended the scallops, and a local brewery with atrociously punned names, but he noted she only ordered a sandwich for herself. He thought of reminding her that he had asked her to find a clock that might very well cost more than a car and he wasn’t going to begrudge her a pint, but just as quickly scrapped the idea as horrifyingly bad-mannered. She might not drink, after all. Or hate seafood.

“I’ll start with the bad news: the sum total of it is, I haven’t found your Williams shelf clock.”

“I assumed so.”

“I would get in touch right away if I had, absolutely. But I haven’t.”

Watching her twist her wedding band, he cleared his throat and asked: “Any good news?”

Mrs. Treat stopped her fidgeting and laughed. “The good news is that I can probably teach a specialist course on clock manufacture to 1850? I found more information on the Boston concern that Williams tended to purchase his clock-faces from, the history of brass rolling mills in New England – mostly Connecticut, by the way, none of your Hub nonsense here – though I don’t know for sure if Williams bought from Abel Porter and Co. or imported from England. You said your clock was early 18-teens, which makes trade with Britain a tad unlikely. There’s more information on the mahogany trade in there, as well. Book review for a monograph creatively titled Mahogany, by a Dr. Anderson – I suppose that’s part of the commodities trend where every other book was titled Cod or Pepper or whatever have you – in case you’re interested. Oh, and did you know that Williams once rented shop-room that had previously been occupied by a silversmith named Zenas Fearing?” She pushed a full manila folder across the table to him.

“If you want it,” she said, quickly, “I have all this in scans and pdfs as well, I can just email it to you. But I prefer hard copies.”

He took the folder and leafed through the pages, her annotations in red standing out against the page. “At this rate, Mrs. Treat, I’ll be able to construct it myself.”

“You might consider it. Shelf clocks are more common by the Federal period, but they’re still rare. If you could find a good source for Honduran mahogany you’d be able to make a pretty close replica to an original. Or just 3D print it, I guess.”

She sat back in her chair and swirled the ice around her glass with an apologetic smile. “I want to be clear, Mr. Norrington. I do believe that David Williams likely made multiple clocks of the type you’re describing, and I do believe that several have survived the last two centuries, and will come up for sale if they’re not already – these things can get misidentified. My failure isn’t an indication that it doesn’t exist, only – hmm. I say this as a professional: I appreciate your business and the trust you’ve put in me, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least tell you to consider going through a specialist. I don’t know clocks as well as I do desks and highboys.”

When he said he had consulted a specialist, Mrs. Treat cocked her head, and frowned. “Well. That’s good.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that – she didn’t seem upset or offended, more puzzled than anything. He hadn’t meant it as an insult to her professional abilities; the dealers he had consulted spoke highly of her, tempered by the recent loss of her husband, who had been the founder of the business. Still, she looked at him cautiously – like she suspected something was afoot. “You care a great deal about this clock, I see.”

“One needs goals in life.”

“A lawyer’s answer,” she shot back. “But I understand, I think. And that really is all I have for you – there’s copies of correspondences with a few auction houses about Williams’ clocks – mostly tall clocks that have come up in the last half-century, some research from Newport Historical Society I called in a favor for – mostly about Williams and his contemporaries. Shockingly, most everyone wants to hear about William Claggett, so this is a bit thin – but if you ever get to Newport – the antiques show really is something! – you really should see the Claggett clock in the Redwood Library; it makes the to-do about him and his workshop seem very, very justified. There’s some auction results for the last few times one of his has come up, too. Just for comparison. Close to the back, yellow tab.”

Well. That was a number of zeroes.

“I appreciate your diligence,” he replied, closing the folder and pushing it to the side, to make way for the two plates the waitress was sweeping up with, and was very grateful for it, because he wasn’t sure what else there was for her or him to say. At least Mrs. Treat seemed to think one shouldn’t talk during the first few bites of a meal, efficiently clearing away half of her turkey club before setting the rest aside, and pushing her chips around her plate, which seemed an oblique signal that she’d welcome conversation, or still had something to say.

He didn’t say anything – a lawyer’s habit, maybe, though God knew it’d never helped him outside of the courtroom; or maybe he was still feeling a little foolish for letting the blind grief and very old scotch go to his head that day, and wasn’t entirely sure who Mrs. Treat was, even after doing some due diligence of his own: she seemed personable, dedicated, and honest – too honest for her own good, if she was encouraging him to look elsewhere. The glasses she wore on a chain gave her the air of a librarian, or slightly eccentric aunt – appropriate enough for her occupation. Still, it was rude to be too quiet for too long, and Mrs. Treat really had done an admirable job given the conditions.

“Will you permit a question, Mrs. Treat?”

“Of course.”

“You needn’t have given me all this information – or anything else that you’ve sent along. I would have been satisfied with an email that was some variant on ‘Not yet.’ Why all this?”

“It’s the slow season for me. Almost no foot traffic between the holidays and Memorial Day weekend – a spike around Valentine’s Day and St. Pat’s, because of the road race – but all in all, winter into early spring’s my designated vacation time. I liked the challenge – and I spent a lot of summers in Newport, when I was a teenager.” She paused, before looking at him curiously. “Will you permit a question?”

He nodded.

“I’ve been assuming you’re looking for a Williams clock because there was one passed down in your family – how did your family come to acquire the original? I’ve had to get very good at family genealogies over the years, but I wouldn’t have to have done so to know you’re not from a Newport family.”

“An antecedent married a woman from Newport; it came with her to the marriage.” If there had been an implicit question in why he did not have that original clock, he ignored it – better leave it as some question or quibbling over inheritance. Old families were fairly notorious for that. His cousins still weren’t speaking, even after fifteen years had passed, over the disposition some porringers. God alone knew what Hell would break loose when Grandmother passed away, and left the Burt silver tea service to one her descendants.

“Good provenance,” was all the reply that Mrs. Treat made on that score – all the reply she could make, because her phone began to ring and, apologetically, she checked the ID before blanching. “It’s my daughter’s school – if you’ll – just a moment – I’ll be right back!”

And she was – dashing back to the table looking like she was either about to break something or cry. “I am sorry, Mr. Norrington – I have to cut this short – my daughter’s been in a fight at school – she bit someone, actually – no blood, thank Christ – and, well –”

“I understand,” he said, rising to his feet belatedly, because he felt he ought to.

“Bless you! Do you want the folder with all the copies? Yes? Great. I’ll be in touch in June. Enjoy the spring up in Boston!”

Mrs. Treat rushed out the door, and he sat back down with the folder. If nothing else, it’d be more interesting that his current caseload.

In his inbox, not a few hours later, was a painstakingly polite email containing more than one apology and several thanks for understanding as he had: Just in case (she wrote) I’ve set up a DropBox with all the info in the folder, find it at this link, I am profoundly sorry for my unprofessional behavior, Best Regards, Elinor Treat.

He replied immediately that there really was no need for her apologies: though personally unable to relate to the experience of managing children alone, his sister’s children were enough of a handful, and – came the sobering thought – they hadn’t just lost their father the year before.

Biting, though. He wanted to ask, but that would be rude.

And as May rolled through into June, Theo reminded him that it had been six months, and there was no time like summer to at least try to start dating again. This struck him as profoundly collegiate, and he said so, which led to a completely fruitless argument over whether or not either of them had dated in college, and why or why not, and how that at all had any bearing on the subject at hand – the only thing worse than arguing with a lawyer, he supposed, was being one yourself and doing it anyway. Like being an electrician and still sticking a fork in a wall socket.

He won a one-month moratorium on the topic, but that seemed pretty pyrrhic, all told. Weatherby Swann still couldn’t look him full in the face – and he didn’t anticipate that starting to date again would at all endear him the senior partner turned Gubenatorial hopeful. Or maybe it would? Swann could breathe a sigh of relief that it hadn’t been so serious as it seemed at first – no broken hearts, no resentment. Just two people who weren’t quite meant to make it.

He was out of his office before he knew it, saying something vague about getting lunch to Ned Jarsdel and he’d be back shortly, etc. etc. – and didn’t even notice he had a shadow until Theo Groves jumped into the elevator behind him with an obviously innocent expression.

“Someone’s got to make sure you eat your greens,” Theo said, airily.

“I’m not six years old,” James replied. He said it petulantly enough that it sounded like he was, and his junior snorted. Decades of incredibly expensive education, and that was the best he could do.

“You eat like you are.”

“And you know many first-graders who survive on scotch and bagels?”

“More in the sense of, ‘You can’t be trusted to eat a nutritionally balanced meal on your own account,’” Theo corrected, following him into the noisy lobby, “Honestly, it’s a marvel you haven’t developed scurvy by now.”

James tried to think of concrete proof he’d eaten something with vitamin C in the last week, but came up short, and settled for sniping that Theo had a job and caseload of his own – which, somehow, turned into another bout of unproductive bickering that lasted up State Street, and James pretended he didn’t notice he was being herded towards Sweetgreen (or however it was spelled). With the vaguest glimmer of self-knowledge, he knew he was bristling from the shame of being seen to be incompetent; it didn’t stop him bristling, but at least he let himself be chivvied along through the crowds and the late-spring sunshine.

This was, of course, the moment he encountered Elinor Treat again.

“Mrs. Treat?”

She was standing on the edge of a group of children, clustered around a tricornered guide at the Old State House – and whirled around at being hailed with a puzzled look, until she spotted him and waved. With a word to another woman, she broke away and jogged over. “Mr. Norrington, hello! Forgive me – I’m here with my daughter’s class – end of year field trip, you know. I hope you’re well?”

Very aware that Theo was suddenly Interested in the proceedings, James was as dry as possible in introducing the two: Theodore Groves, a junior associate; Elinor Treat, antique dealer.

“Allegedly,” she said, with a sort of chagrinned cheerfulness, “I’m afraid I haven’t been very helpful yet.”

“Yet?”

Mrs. Treat looked at him rather than answering Theo’s question outright; he supposed he appreciated her discretion. “She’s investigating a family heirloom for me,” he replied, which was at least partially true.

“An interesting line of work,” said Theo.

“It has its moments. It does put a target on my back for chaperoning these kinds of trips, though – and we’ve still got to make to Charlestown.” She glanced over her shoulder at the school group, anxiously, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve got to get back. Responsibilities aside, my daughter’s a firecracker and even the Massacre won’t be enough to keep her occupied long. Goodbye! I’ll be in touch!”

Blessedly, Theo said nothing until after they’d gotten their lunches, and sat out in the sun. “So. She seems nice.”

“You have another two weeks before you’re allowed anything on the topic,” James replied, stabbing at his under-dressed spinach bad-temperedly.

#the self-indulgence continues!#god save me from myself [she says not actually intending to stop or be saved]#buying time #customs and duties aus #customs and duties #fic #my fic

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her-world-on-fire · 4 years

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Long Night {Draco Malfoy x Reader}

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

Word Count: 5605 :)

A/N:This one gets steamy at the end. There is also mention of drink spiking and unsolicited photos. Be safe and stay well!

6. “It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.” “No, like … it’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

I took a deep breath and felt around me. My eyes were still closed, but the room felt unfamiliar. Even the scent, it wasn’t one that I recognized. My hand ran into another body. I froze, trying to recall why I was with someone else in bed. I opened my eyes and looked around, rather why I was in someone else’s bed. I mumbled a curse to myself. Immediately I looked under the covers I was in my undergarments. I got up as quietly as I could. I was near the door, I didn’t want to be seen so I didn’t bother looking at who I was with. They were turned facing the wall and the longer I stayed the higher the chance of being caught. I grabbed a sweater off the ground after not being able to find my own clothes. I hoped I could sneak into my room. I looked out, the common room was empty. It was an early Saturday morning. I felt the memories coming back like whiplash.

“Come on you’ll have fun! We won!”

I stood still for a moment, the party. Slytherin won the quidditch match and my friends dragged me to a party. I snuck into my room and shut the door. I was still only wearing a black sweater. “Late night out?” Came Pansy’s voice, I groaned “Shut it.” Adelaide stirred and woke up. She looked to Pansy and scoffed, “Of course it’s you.” I laughed and sat on my bed, she turned to me. “Where the hell have you been?” I shrugged, “Hell if I know. I woke up next to someone else.”

"And you don't even know who?" She mocked, "Coldhearted." I rolled my eyes, and got on my own clothes and tossed the sweater under my covers. I didn't need any more questions about the mystery person I woke up next to. I was curious, but not enough to go looking. "I'm going to the library, I've got 2 rolls of parchment to write."

Snape gave me 2 rolls as punishment for being late to class consecutively. I took my bookbag and left my roommates. When I walked into the library it was empty. Perfect. No one to distract me. "Time to get this stupid thing done." I sat down and got my quill and parchment. If I needed I had information at my fingertips. Take that Snape.

----

To say that Draco's dormitory was a mess was an understatement. He shared a room with 2 other players on the quidditch team. The room was littered with red cups that screamed up to no good. Clothes were discarded all over, it was indiscernible who's was who's. Draco was the first to wake up half of his sheets were on the floor. "The fuck?" He mumbled and then greedily pulled them in the bed. He tried to go back to sleep but had no luck. He decided if he couldn't sleep neither could his roommates.

He walked into the common room to see the damage. As expected it was even worse than his dormitory. He cast a spell and cups began gathering ready to be discarded. He nearly tripped over clothes that were near his bed. He had an idea of who was responsible. "Pucey get whoever is in your bed out now before Snape sees." Pucey, however, did not move. Draco knew he was pretending. "You absolute idiot get up."

He only groaned in response, "It wasn't me." Draco rolled his eyes. "The clothes on the floor you dimwit." Finally, he got up. He marched out of bed to see what Draco meant. After a few moments, he got up and looked at them. A smirk played on his face. "How wasted were you?"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Draco snapped, he hadn't even tried to recall anything if he was being honest. Now he reflected, flashes of loud music filled his head. He smirked, girls danced all around him. Then it went black. "Those clothes are Y/N's." His teammate broke the silence, "And?" He didn't understand what he had to do with the clothes. He was pretty sure he was alone all night. He was too sore to do much. In fact, he retired earlier than usual. Still, he wasn't sure. What happened last night?

----

Satisfied an hour later I went to the Great Hall. Pansy wore shades, it seemed the alcohol finally took its toll. Adelaide seemed better, she held her hands over her eyes. She only moved them to bring a fork to her mouth. She held a finger to Pansy, "One more word and this fork will somehow find it's way to your neck." Pansy froze, she knew better than to test Adelaide. "First Draco now you." At the mention of him, I wrinkled my nose. He was at the party last night too. I didn't think too long about It. "Snape can kiss my ass." I waved the parchment in front of them.

"Draco is looking for you." Adelaide cut, my eyes snapped open. I laughed, "Sorry, I thought you said Draco was looking for me. As in our prefect Draco." Pansy lowered her shades, I pressed my lips together stifling my laughter. She could not hold her drinks. At all. "He is." I brought my hand to my temples. "What could he possibly-" Then it clicked. He saw me sneaking into my dormitory. He was the prefect after all and looked for any chance to drag us to Snape. But how could he have seen me? I was sure no one else saw me. I looked up, Pansy.

"Did you tell him?"

"What? Tell him? He made it very clear he doesn't want to hear from me." I thought about it for a moment. Maybe it wasn't her. She hasn't been fond of him lately. From what I gathered they broke up and it was messy. I hummed, "Good to know I'll be out. Doing things. Away from Draco. You never saw me." I got up from the table and walked out. I was out in the open, vulnerable. I kept my head down and walked to the dungeons.

I managed to sneak to my room. I spent the rest of the weekend avoiding Draco. I kept myself busy and went to places I knew he wouldn’t. Hagrid’s, the library, it worked. When classes rolled along I knew it was no time before he talked to me. It came in History of Magic first. I walked in and professor Binns pulled me aside. “Your prefect has requested to be your partner. He believes he can help you.” I gritted my teeth, I was doing just fine in the class. He wanted to talk about Friday Night. I gave him a nod, “Thank you, Professor.” I walked to my seat, Draco was already there. I hoped if I got there early he wouldn’t have the chance to sit next to me. I was wrong.

“I underestimated you Malfoy. Well played.”

“I’ve been looking for you all weekend.” He hissed, “I am well aware.” This made him angrier. He grabbed my wrist, making me look at him. “I’d be careful, you wouldn’t want to draw the Professors attention.” I was saved, students came in and began filling into their seats. Some looked to us, he released my wrist. I gave him a look. Soon Professor Binns stepped in front of the class. “I hope you all reviewed the causes of the Giant Wars as I asked you to. Now, who can tell me one cause?”

I looked forward, Draco was staring at me. I felt his eyes burning on me, “Will you quit it?” He glared. “Mr. Malfoy! I trust you were reviewing the answer with your partner?” Draco's eyes tore from me and they looked to Binns. Heads snapped in our direction, just brilliant. He nodded, “Oh yes of course Professor.” I bit my lip, he was a terrible liar especially when caught in the act. “Wonderful. Give us one.” He stayed silent, he had no time to study the causes. He was too busy looking for me. I, on the other hand, had no choice but to do all of my homework. I decided to spare him, “Prejudice.” Binns smiled, “Correct.” He turned his attention away from us. Draco didn’t try to talk for the rest of the class.

We were dismissed and I stood up immediately. I was the first one out of the class. Draco stormed behind me, "I'm your prefect, what made you think it was a good idea to avoid me?” I continued walking to our next class. I laughed it was obvious, "You just said it you're my prefect!” We were studying Palmistry in Divination. I walked up to the stairs, “What is your problem Draco? What’s so important?” I decided it was better to listen to him and get it over with. I walked through the doors, and he pulled me aside. “You were at the party, correct?”

“I’m on the team Draco, of course, I was-” He put a hand over my mouth, “Just listen for Merlin’s sake!” I huffed and nodded. He did put in an awful lot of effort. “Your clothes they were in the dormitory, next to my bed. Half of my sheets were on the floor, I don’t remember anything.” My eyes widened, he let me speak now. “I woke up in your dormitory. I didn’t see who I was next to, I can’t remember anything either.”

“Take your seats!” Trelawney said ushering us away from the door. I took a seat and Rodger sat across from me. He was usually my partner, “Move.” Draco shoved him, Rodger was Ravenclaw’s Chaser. He was fairly tall and much stronger than Draco. This was no good. “Draco!” Trelawney shouted, “Get in a seat.”

I couldn’t focus on the rest of the class. “Now try reading your partner’s palm.” Draco took my palm, “I’ll read yours.” I froze, I had no idea how to read palms. I was trying really hard to recall anything new. He traced his fingers over my palm. “Your fate line is very faint. That means you’re unpredictable.” I smiled, that sounded like me, “Your heart line intertwines with your fate, your marriage lines are very faint and short. You have trouble forming relationships. Your lifeline intertwines with your headline. Your decisions are very methodical.”

I was amazed, Trelawney had been standing over us. “20 points Slytherin! I want a reflection of your partner’s palm, with the exception of you two.” She smiled and moved on. I breathed a sigh of relief, “I’m sorry I can’t read yours.” He shrugged, “I could always show you how to.”

“I didn’t know you were so good at this.

“Neither did I.” We were dismissed and we left class together. Still, eyes were om us, “Have you tried asking anyone else?” I asked and he shook his head, “I was assuming you would know.”

Draco decided he was going to ask his roommates. Surely they would know. He put his things down on his bed. No sign of them. He was about to leave the dormitory, “Draco!” He turned around, Miles the keeper had called him. “I heard about what happened last night.”

“Did you?” He nodded, “With Y/N the Chaser. I guess Y/N lives up to the name. You two were together weren’t you?” He didn’t know what to say. They were but why? More importantly, why couldn’t either of them remember? “What do you know?” He asked, turning more serious. Miles had fear in his eyes, “Everyone’s talking about it, you were all over each other last night, then you disappeared. That’s all I know.”

----

I walked to the common room, slowly I started piecing everything together.

I walked to grab another drink. As happy as I was, I just wanted sleep. During the game, a Gryffindor slammed into me. Apparently, she was “fighting dirty with dirty.” I will admit that some do play dirty. Personally, I didn’t need to cheat to win. I was good without cheating. My body hurt more than it usually did. I was ready to leave, but I wanted one for the road. I grabbed a cup and reached for a bottle. Draco and I grabbed it at the same time. “Whiskey,” He smirked, “It’s the best thing they have,” I replied, I was caught off guard, he poured my drink and then he poured his. We’ve talked a couple of times since he was the captain. Not much outside of the field. “I saw the Gryffindor chaser run into you. Are you alright?” I was surprised, I thought it went unnoticed. “How did you see that?” He chuckled, “I’m the seeker darling, I see everything.” I hated to admit it but he was attractive. Everyone was all over him and it was surprising that he was talking to me. It was an in the moment thing, I decided to have a little fun. “It takes more than that to take me out. I can handle myself.”

He smiled, “Good, you’re one of the best players on the team. I don’t know what I’d do if you had to sit out.” Before we could talk further I was called away. “Y/N!” I could pinpoint the voice, but I turned around. Once I did, someone tripped and spilled their drink on me. “Really? Fucking asshole.” I groaned and Draco went after the guy, “Hey apologize!” The guy turned around and rolled his eyes, Draco grabbed his collar and punched him. “I asked once, I’m not asking again.” His nose began to bleed, he moaned “I’m sorry! It was an accident!” Draco let go and he scurried off like a cockroach. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You deserved an apology, let’s get you cleaned up.” He grabbed my hand and led me to his room.

That was all I could remember. Draco should remember the rest. I walked into the common room and Draco had Miles pinned to the wall. I ran over and put a hand on his chest. “Woah! Draco, hey.” He let go but still held eye contact with him. “What’s going on?” I asked and Draco finally looked at me. He calmed down a bit, “He has a death wish.” I have no idea what he said but Draco was pissed. Not someone to mess with. He was put prefect and captain he could make life hell. “We need to talk.” I tried changing the topic, he sighed. “Leave before I change my mind.” He said through gritted teeth. Miles was gone in seconds.

“I know what happened last night.” That caught his attention. There was silence the fire crackled, and he sat down. I told him everything, by the end his cheeks were pink. He leaned forward and his head was buried in his hands. “I don’t know.” He got up, “I’ll retrace my steps.” He held out his hand and we walked to his dormitory. It was empty just like it was last night. We got to his room he opened the door. “Assuming I was cleaning you up, I went to go get a towel.” he walked to the bathroom and it all came flooding back. “Woah,” He was overwhelmed, he had to sit down. He tensed, remembering something that made his blood boil. I walked over to him and sat next to him. “Draco? What did you remember?”

“Hey, sorry I took so long admittedly I’m a bit of a snob.” He said a bit sheepishly. He held the towel in his hands as he stepped back into his room. He looked up and was met with a stranger. Y/N was on the bed, but his view was obscured, there was no movement. He began to worry, he rushed to the attacker but soon felt himself growing slower. The last thing he remembered was being hauled into bed. His clothes stripped from his body, and he could’ve sworn he felt the harsh flash of a camera.

“Oh my god,” I came to the dawning realization. “Those pictures of us practically naked in bed are floating around the school.” He sighed, “That’s how everyone knew what was going in but us.” I thought about the photos. Then something hit me, shivers ran down my spine. Draco looked at me, “What is it?” I never undressed myself. Neither did he, yet we were in the photos. “We didn’t undress ourselves. What if they have more photos?” Now the situation was really dawning on me. “When I find ou-” He stood and began pacing. This really aggravated him, and understandably so. I stood, and put my hand on his chest. “I know, I know. Calm down, we need to figure out the rest. There’s no way someone walked in here and wasn’t seen.”

The door opened and Pucey rushed in. Before Draco could protest he shushed him. “Snape’s coming here, he’s already in the dungeon. Hide Y/N now.” He grabbed my hand and rushed to the bathroom. Draco looked at me confused, and I held up my finger. We needed to hear what was going on. “Tell him I’m in the shower.” We heard footsteps and I rushed to the shower and turned the water on. Almost immediately after the door to the dormitory open. “Where is Draco?” Snape questioned Pucey. “In the shower Professor.” Snape sighed, “Well have the dormitory clear out, we have matters to discuss. I will wait for him.”

I started unbuttoning his shirt, he looked at me again, “Listen I’m all for this, but right now? What are you doing?” I rolled my eyes, sometimes he was a bit daft. “I didn’t know after showers you were completely dry.” His eyes widened and he got to work on undoing his belt and jeans. I pulled off shirt. “I wouldn’t mind doing this again, you know?” I looked over him. He was pale of course but also built. Which made sense since he was fairly active. He also had bruises all over his body from last night’s match and scrims too. They were all in different stages of healing. What caught my attention was his forearm. He almost always wore sleeves and his robes. He had something there, I didn’t get to see it clearly. He pulled away, “Now darling I’m about to take these off. You can turn around if you’d like.” He winked, “Or not, I certainly don’t mind.”

He didn’t take too long to come out Knowing it was best not to keep Snape waiting. "Mind handing me a towel?" He asked, I got up and handed him one of the black towels on the rack. He grabbed it and wrapped it around his waist. Not bothering to wipe his body. "I didn’t know you were one to make a show." He looked over at me, "Oh trust me this is nothing." He still whispered. Now that the water was off we had to be even quieter. He walked out. "Professor Snape. Give me a moment." I heard the sound of drawers and he came back in and placed clothes on the sink. "I don't have all day Malfoy so we're beginning this now." I turned around as he got dressed. "Now, I hear there was something of a celebration here last night." Draco was already halfway dressed, he just needed his short. "I see nothing wrong with a well-earned celebration professor." He remarked knowing very well that his celebration was against the rules. The alcohol, having different houses in the common room, and not to mention the activities in the dormitory. He walked over to me. "Go hide I’m going to leave the door open so he doesn’t search in here. Then we have another bloody problem."

“Don’t play coy with me Malfoy. I have an idea of what was going on and I’m sure it was more than a little celebration. However, since I do not have proof, I am unable to do much.” He changed his tone and became more hushed. Still, I could hear him. “Now I hope you haven’t lost sight of your assignment.” I knew I was not supposed to be hearing this and Draco wasn’t going to be happy about this. However, that was not enough to curve my interest. “And what makes you think I’ve forgotten?” He spat, judging by the tone of his voice he was having a hard time controlling his temper. Snape still remained hushed, “I haven’t seen much improvement, and I am unable to answer for your failures without making things quite obvious.”

Draco sighed, “Well tell me, Professor, how am I to advance on something I have no control over? You know as well as I do the room comes at its’s own will. I’ve had no such luck encountering it.” I heard shifting, Snape moved to leave. “I will be checking in.” Just like that, he was gone. I waited for a moment, making sure he wouldn’t come back in. I walked out of the bathroom and saw Draco sitting on his bed, head in his hands. He clearly had a lot going on. I decided not to press him about the second half of his conversation. I joined him and placed my hand on his shoulder. “We’ll figure this out.” He sighed, “Yeah.” I played down on his bed going over what I remembered, over and over. “Hey, Draco what were you doing before you came over to the bottle?” He looked up, and rubbed his hand over his face. There was this fog that wasn’t letting him remember, he fought against it. “I was talking to Miles and Pucey. Then I noticed you, my cup was empty so I thought why not walk over to you.”

“Did you empty your cup?”

“Of course I did, what does this-” He stopped for a moment, “I put it down on the table behind me, I was showing Pucey where his quaffle knocked into me.” I nodded, there was a moment where someone called me before I got knocked into. There was a series of events that had to be set off in order to make sure we followed the plan. “That’s what made you get a drink. But what made me get one?” I asked more to myself than to Draco. It was still hard to recall. I groaned and laid down on his bed. This whole thing was making my head pound, there were too many pieces and none of them were fitting together. “I need to find out who called my name & why I went to get a drink.” I glanced at his window, it was already relatively dark. Draco was silent. I figured he needed some space. I moved to get up, he did too. I looked at his floor, my clothes still scattered around. I groaned and moved to get them. He grabbed my arm, “I’ve got it.” I gave him a thankful look, truth be told I was still sore. The second and third day hit the hardest. He handed them to me, and I watched. The way his clothes clung to him as he moved just captivated me. He wasn’t wearing quite as many layers as he usually would. Just a black long sleeve, wrapped around his toned upper body. He handed me my clothes, and I thanked him. I moved to the door he grabbed the handle before I could. “What are you doing?” I asked walking to the door. He followed, “With everything happening, I’m just making sure you get to your room.” I smiled, “Draco it’s only a few steps away.”

“I know, just let me.” I sighed, he was too stubborn and I was tired. He opened his door, I raised an eyebrow. “You are quite the gentleman when you choose to be.” He laughed following after the dormitory had a low buzz. People speaking in hushed voices, I walked past them and made my way upstairs. Still glancing at anyone seeing if they paid more attention to us. Everyone glanced at us, then looked away. Silence. We walked to my dormitory. I expected him to go back to his. He waited for me to go further. “Draco, is this really necessary?” He looked at me, so I continued walking. I got to my door and he seemed satisfied.

---

I walked out of my room, it was already a long week and it had just begun. As I walked through the halls I couldn’t help but feel vulnerable. I walked into potions and sat down. It was the same secretive environment. Draco took a seat by me. He stared at me, I looked at him. “What?” Right before he could speak, Snape came in. “Page 349. Read now.” We grabbed our textbooks and flipped to the page. I felt eyes on me, I looked around the room and at least 5 different pairs of eyes were on me. I looked back at my book, and concentrated on the page. Even Draco couldn't keep his eyes off me. I didn't dare speak in the silence. As soon as the lesson began and he was occupied, I figure I had a chance. “Draco what is going on?” He looked at me, “What do you mean?”

“You can’t keep your eyes off of me. Neither can anyone else apparently.”

“I mean you can’t blame me, you’re incredibly distracting.” He winked making me laugh. “I’m just sitting here!” I whispered aggressively. Just then a Gryffindor boy turned to look at me, “See?” Draco looked over at the boy and glared, that was enough to make him squirm in his seat. This caught Snape’s attention, “Draco stop distracting my students.” Draco scowled but didn’t say anything. The class was agonizingly slow. We were released and I bolted out of the room. All the stares were really irritating. Draco rushed after me, grabbing my hand. “Slow down.” I exhaled and turned to him. He was still looking at me with that same look. I couldn’t quite place what it was. “Now will you tell me?”

“No, like … it’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

“I’m what?” He laughed, “Darling, that’s my quidditch sweater.” I put my head on his chest and groaned. He kept laughing, wrapping his arms around me. “Who’s making a show now?” It felt nice in his embrace. His scent enveloping me. “I thought this was mine, I grabbed it off the floor Saturday morning. To be fair, I was hungover and in a rush to leave.” On the back of his sweater, his name was embroidered, along with his jersey number. He pulled away and lifted my chin. His rings touched my face, they were cold against my warm face. “It’s alright love, I don’t mind.”

I wasn’t paying attention but, I still felt eyes drilling into me. I focused on Draco trying to ease my mind. “I’m sure you don’t.” I teased, a thought crossed his mind. He smiled and leaned in. “Although, I would prefer it on the floor of my room. It doesn’t quite compare to when you’re not wearing anything.” A blush crept over me. The offer was tempting. Still, we had classes to attend. The next one being care of magical creatures. “I might have to take you up on that offer. Mind if I cash it in later?” He pulled away, still holding on to my hand. We walked to the grounds.

“Hey Y/N.” I froze, it was that voice. I turned around gripping Draco’s hand a little tighter. He picked up on this and turned around as well. It was Pansy. I narrowed my eyes, “It was you.” She looked at me confused, “What are you talking about?” I walked towards her with growing conviction, she did it. I don’t know why, but it was her. She was at every part of the scene. She was at the party. She knew I wasn’t on to her Saturday morning. All the pieces began to fall into place. “You took those photos. You spiked us.” I felt the anger rise, Draco’s grip on my hand grew tighter. I wiggled out of his grip and lunged at her. I struck her with all of the force I had right on her face. I heard a crack, and I was pulled off of her. “Stop!” Draco pulled me off of her, “Go! Now.” He snarled at Pansy. She ran off crying, blood and tears streaming down her face. “Draco!”

He put his hands on both sides of my face, “Look at me.” For a long time, I didn’t. I was angry he didn’t let me hurt her. Finally, I gave in. I looked at his mesmerizing eyes. His beautiful grey eyes, he grounded me. “I know how you feel. Trust me I do. But she’s not worth it.” Class was canceled, Hagrid had some matters to attend to. He was needed elsewhere. Draco grabbed my hand, “Well you didn’t break it. You need to be careful, what am I going to do if my chaser has to sit out?” I smiled I knew he could come up with a replacement. “I would just have to scream your name from the stands.”

“I know how I can make you scream my name without being on the stands.”

He began walking away, to his dormitory. I looked at him, time to cash in his offer. He waited for me, and we intertwined his hands again. We walked to the common room, past the stairs. As soon as we got to his door my hands went to work on his shirt. “Someone’s excited.” He opened his door and we rushed in, locking it soon after. I hurried with the buttons. He returned the favor. His hands trailed down to my zipper, he used such force I heard it rip. I didn’t care too much, I pushed him on the bed and went to his pants. His breath hitched in his throat, keeping my hands on his zipper I leaned over him. He looked into my eyes and pulled me forward kissing me with desperation. I smiled into the kiss, “Look who’s impatient now.” I mumbled over his lips. He sat up and trailed his kisses down from my lips to my neck. “Draco.” I warned, he didn’t stop. “Yes, love?”

“Don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t planning to.” He hovered over my neck for a moment, making me wait. I groaned and he laughed before gently placing wet kisses all over my neck. Creating marks as he trailed down to my chest. Once he was done he admired his work, then placed his lips against mine again. When we broke for air I returned the favor, I moved as he did down to his neck. I made sure to leave marks on his neck and chest. “Now we’re really giving them something to talk about.” I laughed and pulled away. He pulled me closer, whispering in my ear, “Let them.”

---

I leaned into his chest, and listened as his heart rate began to slow, as we caught our breaths. He reached over and grabbed his shirt, handing it to me. “As much as I hate it, you should probably wear this.” He did have two roommates after all. I slipped from his grip and sat up, sliding his shirt on, buttoning messily. I wanted to be in his arms more than anything else. He opened his arms and made room for me. He rested his chin on top of my head. Stroking my hair, “You weren’t lying about making me scream.” He laughed, my hands traced circles on his chest. One of his hands moved to my back. “Darling why would I lie to you.” He pulled back and leaned in giving me another kiss. This one was slow and passionate. Then he kissed my forehead, and we shut our eyes.

We slept through the morning.

I took a deep breath and felt around me. My eyes were still closed, I felt Draco’s arms still around me. He shifted, feeling me wake. “Good morning love,” I said, his eyes looking at me. I felt myself melt looking into them. You really can get lost in a persons eyes. He smiled pulling me closer, “It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.”

#draco #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter and the half-blood prince

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fursasaida · 4 years

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despite my evasive action, The Most Annoying Guy In My Program finally pinned me down to a zoom call yesterday. (literally him when we were arranging this: “I don’t know how you feel about it, but I love Zoom!” i’m. this is monstrous.) i had had a few guesses about what he wanted out of me this time, and the least flattering of them was correct: he did not retain or make note of anything i said to him the previous time he cornered me to ~pick my brain about the first exam, and he wanted to do it again.

i almost lost my temper when he interrupted me at one point, not because the interruption was so egregious in the course of normal conversation but because there i was going to the trouble of repeating myself for him and he couldn’t just keep his fucking mouth shut and listen while i was talking. also one of the things i specifically told him the first time we had this convo back in the fall semester was to start on the journal review part early because it’s super time consuming, and he 1) has done nothing, 2) had a lot of specific follow-up questions about how long it would take. like, just, god.

what he also wanted to do was bitch about the dissertation proposal-writing course (which he took this past semester; i haven’t done it yet) in some of the most delusional, baffling ways possible--i’ve only seen one worse case of this in my life, and that involved a conspiracy theory about Gulf money funding the university (not this one, the last one i was at) causing faculty to conspire against my classmate’s thesis because it was on Shi‘ism--and complain about his advisor. the complaints about his advisor are fundamentally legit (she’s too busy, she has too many students, she’s basically AWOL for all of them), but i can’t help but think he’d be in a better position with her if she, too, didn’t find him incredibly annoying (i happen to know this for a fact). and she finds him annoying for the same reasons we all do, which are under his control! said reasons are exactly why everyone else in proposal writing criticized his work so hard and are exemplified by his making up fake reasons for these criticisms to be illegitimate!

other ways that he tried to trap me into being his replacement advisor, which he has been doing since our first semester: “offering” to send me his dissertation proposal, “if you want” (i.e., please read this and help me); announcing that he is having doubts about academia as a career path (no shit dude, who doesn’t, but i don’t have to sit here and unpack it with you). several people in this dept. treat me like their supplementary advisor/mentor/cheerleader, and i accommodate this to varying degrees based on how much i like the person, how able i feel to meaningfully help, what they’re asking for, and whether i feel like it on a given day. he does trap me into it occasionally, like today, but i simply refuse with him. no. why would i want to spend my energy helping someone who doesn’t listen, doesn’t take feedback, has no self-awareness, has demonstrated no capacity for and indeed no interest in critical thinking or creativity, and is racist in the most comically oblivious, self-satisfied European way you can imagine. also he’s a fake bitch. he so transparently pretends to take an interest in you so he can get what he wants from you. ugh, yuck, ugh. letting that “offer” to send me the proposal just fly by without a response felt good.

speaking of racism, he said out loud, with his mouth, in june 2020, this sentence: “i don’t care about prisons.” (he walked it back a bit after, but i can tell you for sure that the bald statement up front was the true one.)

he also said this: “so i thought, do it for the money. that’s always my motivation.” FOR TEACHING. god how i pity his students. like obviously we’re all underpaid and you gotta do what you gotta do, and it’s not wrong to work for money--i don’t subscribe to the sacrificial lamb model of teaching where any indignity is worth it for the love of the craft, or whatever--but you could at least pretend to give a solitary damn about your students. this is all colored by the fact that literally every time i have heard him talk about teaching he speaks about students in a 100% adversarial way.

anyway. i spent large parts of this conversation (AN HOUR AND A HALF OF MY LIFE) alternately suppressing laughter and hating how i, too, have to be a fake bitch when i interact with him and therefore hating him for obliging me to behave that way. (yes, i could tell him to fuck off; i considered it last time he reached out to me a couple of weeks ago. but i would gain very little and the costs are potentially significant. i already have a bit of a reputation here for being difficult.)

#the best and the brightest can bite me #he assured me he'll be in touch again this summer and i was just like.......HAHAHA FOR SURE!!! oy.

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nicolewoo · 5 years

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SCOTTISH KING

Summary: Drew McIntyre has returned to RAW, and it's Y/N's job to make him look great. Now if he can just stop ruining it......

Pairing: Drew Mcintyre x Reader

Warnings: Language, Erection

Working as a seamstress in the WWE was a hectic, sometimes stressful and wonderful job. My boss, Sandra Gray was amazing. She was strict and demanded near perfection, but she also praised more often than she corrected. I understood why. The ring attire HAD to be strong, stretchy, and often sparkly. One costume slip could ruin a wrestler's reputation and would surely get the company in trouble with cable networks. Sandra had earned my respect, as well as the respect of everyone at WWE. The longer I worked for her, the more responsibilities she gave me, and I loved it.

Being on the road is not always fun. It's often lonely and always exhausting. I thrived on the stress though. I always had.

So when Sandra came to me with a pile of black leather, a box of metal and a notebook of sizes and a design for a coat, I was more than happy to take on the challenge.

“Can you handle this for me?” She asked as I reviewed the rough sketches and materials.

I flipped through the book, “Absolutely,” I assured her.

“Normally I would handle this one myself, but I'm just too backed up tonight. Can you get this done by Friday?”

That was going to take up any free time I could carve out for myself, but again.... I'm a glutton for punishment. I thrived on stress, and I thrived on Sandra's praise. “Yeah. I should be able to do that.”

“I know it's a big project. If you need help, grab Henry.” That at least comforted me a bit.

I nodded in agreement and starting planning how to handle the project.

The notebook was labeled Talent: Drew McIntyre. Drew McIntyre? Drew.... yes.... I remember him. I wasn't even working here when he wrestled with the WWE, and my memory was hazy, but I was certain I'd recognize him when I saw him. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and googled the wrestler.

As the images loaded, I realized that yes, I knew Drew. I had liked his wrestling, well..... and those dimples... and eyes.... and chest..... and...... I liked watching him wrestle, but he just disappeared one day, and I hadn't seen nor heard of him since. As I studied the pictures of young Drew from his time in WWE in 2007, I realized I was going to like working on this project for all the wrong reasons. He was a handsome devil. BUT.... But I'm a professional. I can do this.

Putting my phone away, I got to work cutting the leather, matching the metal pieces to the sketch Sandra had done, putting together a floor length black leather coat dotted with spikes and other metal. It really was a HUGE project, but I was up to the task.

I got so wrapped up in the project, I was oblivious to the time. A member of the venue's security knocked on the door and told me they were closing. I wasn't really at a stopping point, but I didn't have a choice. One thing was for certain, I needed to meet with Drew for a couple of measurements. I'd shoot him a text in the morning.

I returned to my hotel room and crashed. I dreamed of a huge giant of a man with a smooth chest and straight long brown hair. I dreamed of hazel eyes and leather and metal spikes. I dreamed of his giant hands around my waist, over my breasts, cupping my ass. I woke suddenly knowing only 1 thing. I had to cum NOW. I had dreamed in so much detail, I was on the verge of a climax. I slid my hand to my clit, and no more than a minute later, I came hard and long. Hmmmmm that was exactly what I needed. I rolled over and fell back to sleep.

Before even heading to the venue, I shot Drew a text.

“It's Y/N from wardrobe. I need a few measurements. Can you give me a few minutes of your time today?” I put my phone down, but immediately received a reply text.

“Yes. Where are you now?”

“Still at the hotel, but I can be at the venue in a half hour.”

“My day is completely booked up. The only time I have is now. Are you at the Regency?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Let's do this now. What's your room number?” I balked at the idea, but I knew the talent usually had busy days... especially with Drew returning to WWE. I'm sure he had press to do. I sent Drew my room number and pulled out the book with the measurements.

Drew knocked in a few minutes. That was fast. I opened the door to see the new Drew. This was not the gorgeous Scottish prince from 2007. What stood in front of me was a giant hulk of a MAN..... a king...... His black t-shirt barely containing his muscles. His hair seemed darker, curlier, and pulled back at the nape of his neck, and his voice was much deeper than I remembered. “I'm Drew” he said as a warm smile crossed his lips. Oh good golly. Just those 2 words set my whole body on fire. This man was pure sex appeal, and the dimples on his cheeks didn't help. I'm just wound up from the dream last night, I thought. Stay professional. I pleaded with myself.

“I'm Y/N. Sorry to add something to your day.” I said inviting him in. “You got here so fast, I didn't even have time to get my tape measure out.” I chuckled.

“I was stayin' just down the hall.” He admitted. “Where do you want me?” He asked.

In my bed! I thought. That's it... I was busted.... I had to have turned 18 shades of red, but if I did, Drew was nice enough not to let on. “Stand right where you are,” I answered as I fumbled for a pen and the tape measure.

It was then that I realized with anyone else, and anywhere but my hotel room, I would have asked the talent to take their shirt off, but given my mood, I decided to work around Drew's clothes. I got right to work measuring. I jotted down measurements and notes as I went along. Then I decided to have Drew try on the pieces that had already been assembled. He did and grimaced when his arm wouldn't fit in his sleeve.

“Who measured you?” I asked knowing I wasn't going to like the answer.

“I... I don't know. Some lad with red hair.” He grinned at me.

Henry! I thought. Oh good golly. Henry was fantastic at sewing but often measured wrong. Crap! I'm going to have to re-do all the measurements, and Drew is in a hurry. “Ok. I'm going to re-measure you.” I saw Drew sigh in frustration. I laid a hand on his arm reassuringly, and immediately regretted it. It was inappropriate and only fueled my lust. “I promise to be faster and better than Henry.”

He placated me with a nod, but I could tell by his eyes that he was frustrated. I felt the need to reassure him again but realized showing was better than saying. I went right to work. Now if I could only get my stomach to stop churning with every time my skin made contact with his........ Let's get this done right and quickly! I told myself.

It was a mere 5 minutes later when I finished, and I earned a raised eyebrow and a warm smile when I told him. “That was much faster.” He admitted.

“I aim to please.” I joked. “I'll call you probably tomorrow to come try on the assembled jacket.”

“I'll be sure to swing by to see you when I get to the venue.” He said. “Thanks for getting this done so fast, and for letting me come here for it. I know it's not the most professional place.” That smile was slowly melting me.

“No problem. I'll see you tomorrow.” As he left, I breathed a sigh of relief. That was done, and I didn't make a blubbering fool of myself despite the urge that bubbled up inside me.

Once set up in the venue, I quickly went to work. Sandra and I agreed that my time was best spent working on Drew's coat, so only the most pressing interruptions came to me.... A tear in some trunks, a zipper on a shirt... but most of my time was spent working on the coat. I had all of the leather assembled. Now I was just putting on the metal spikes while I waited for Drew to visit wardrobe tomorrow. With any luck, I'd have this project done early, and I'd be able to avoid Drew and those intoxicating looks in the future.

Each spike, chain and grommet I added was one step closer to being done with this.... with him? I knew that wasn't what I wanted, but it was what I needed. I needed to steer clear of this giant made of sex appeal, so I could concentrate on my profession. Relationships weren't in my schedule.

“Do you have time for me?” a soft gravely voice came from behind me. I turned to find that Drew looming over me.

“I.... I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow.” I said. “I thought you were booked up for today.”

“The interview I did was shorter than expected.” Gah... how could this giant sound so soft and gentle? It was unnerving. If only he was rough and tough, I could dismiss him as a jerk, but instead, he practically whispered when he talked, and his head dipped slightly as if he was trying to hide how tall and big he was. He was more of a gentle teddy bear than a man who could force-ably take anything he wanted. As the thought ran through my head, so did my dream from last night. His giant hands, his soft hair, his hazel/gray eyes. I dug my fingernails into my palm to stop my daydream.

I untangled the coat from the sewing machine. “Are you ready to try it on?” I asked holding the jacket up to help him try it on.

Instead of going for the jacket, he stopped to pull off his shirt. I gasped; loud enough for him to hear.

“Sorry. A hiccup.” I tried to cover. He didn't indicate if he knew the truth.

He bowed down a bit to slip one arm in the coat I held up, and a smile crept over his face. As his second arm slipped in, and we both knew it fit perfectly.

“Well done Y/N” Drew said as his hands ran over the jacket as if smoothing down the lapels of a suit. “And your adding metal studs?” he asked.

“Actually, we are doing a combination of different metals.” I reached for the booklet with the sketches and opened it for him to see.

“Did you design this?” His eyebrows lifted as he looked through the book.

His eyes met mine..... the gray, green mixture and his soft words were making me melt. Stay professional Y/N. “No. You can thank Sandra for the design.” I said.

“Oh,” he looked disappointed. He walked over to the full length mirror we'd leaned against the wall and admired the coat. “I was wonderin' if you could design some new trunks for me.” He didn't turn to see me, but I saw that he was looking through the mirror at me.

I tried my best not to blush, but I failed. I quickly turned to my work station and grabbed the notepad to cover. “I can do that.”

“Do you think YOU can measure me this time? It would save time.” He smirked which only made him look even better.

I realized I was holding my breath. I chuckled, “Yes, I can do that too.”

Drew checked his phone quickly, “I've got some press to do now.” He tucked his phone back in his pocket and put his shirt back on. “Can we meet in catering before the show to go over designs?” I thought I saw a bit of a smile on his face, but brushed it off. Most of these male stars knew how to flirt to get what they wanted. I'm sure Drew was no different.

“Name the time.” I said.

We agreed on 5 pm.

“I'll buy you dinner.” He winked at me. Ok, now he was outright flirting with me. Don't fall for it. I told myself.

“Dinner is free, you knucklehead.” I joked back.

“Aye,” He turned to look directly into my eyes, “But that's not my fault.” That smirk again....

It's just innocent flirting. I'm sure he's like this with all the girls.

“True. Ok. 5 pm in catering.”

“See you then.” I expected him to leave, but he looked into my eyes, and the smirk was gone. He looked almost hurt. I masked the quizzical look that almost crossed my face. Whatever game this guy is playing, I've got a job to do. I will remain professional.

I was so engrossed in making his jacket that I was losing track of time again. When the alarm on my phone went off at 4:45, I was jolted back to reality. Shit! Prepare for more flirting. I've got to stop this.

As I made my way to catering, I passed Natalia who had an issue with her new costume. I told her to meet me in an hour and continued on my way. It was a distraction that pulled my mind from what was going to happen in a few minutes. If today was any indication, Drew would flirt with me to get what he wanted. It pissed me off as much as it melted me. Where did he get off playing with my emotions? I was fuming in anger by the time I walked into catering.

Drew spotted me before I spotted him. By the time my eyes reached him, he looked contrite. I went through the dinner line and picked out my dinner before joining him at the table.

“Are you upset?” Drew asked as I sat down.

Cover our emotions. Don't let him know. “Just busy.” I replied. “Nattie just threw another repair on me for tonight.” I explained.

Drew must have realized I wasn't in the mood to play his game tonight. “If you need to handle her repair, this can wait until tomorrow.” He offered as he nodded at my book.

“No!” I blurted out. What the fuck, Y/N? Why didn't I want to get away from him? I'm starting to fall for his flirting. Snap out of it. “No. I can do both.” I assured him calmer this time.

A small smile warmed his face, and I couldn't help but feel more relaxed. I tried to look at my notebook as I opened it, but my eyes stayed on his a moment too long. Those beautiful eyes. Stop it! I screamed to myself.

I took a couple bites of my dinner as I sketched out three pairs of trunks. “What colors were you thinking of for your trunks?” I asked.

“Black.” He said it without any hint of his normal flirtation, but even the sound of his serious voice jolted through me like white hot fire. Shit!

“Just black?” I asked, “because if so, I'm done.” I chuckled nervously.

He chuckled back. “No. No. I want you to add some Celtic crosses.” He reached to his back pocket to grab his phone and quickly opened a few pictures of Celtic crosses.

As we started looking through the crosses, I started to relax. When I relaxed, he did too. I was completely focused now on designing his new trunks. We decided on a couple of different styles. Gold outline with a black Celtic cross, Red cross with gold background, and a Gold cross with a red circle on a red background. Then we discussed the way the cross would be laid out on the trunks and then onto the materials I would use. All of it was simple to me, but he seemed impressed.

“Listen, I know you've got a lot on your plate right now. I don't need these in a hurry.” Drew assured me.

“Well, Nattie's repair and your coat should be done tonight, so I'll have some time. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, I should be able to have one pair done by tomorrow.” I assured him. “But I will need to measure you. Will you have time for that before the show?” I asked.

“If not, I'll come by during the show. I'm not on until later.”

And with that we were done. No matter how much I enjoyed his company, I still had work to do. “I'll catch you later then.” I said as I grabbed my tray and headed back to wardrobe.

I spent the next couple of hours doing repairs and working on Drew's coat. I was excited that I was getting closed to finishing.

“Are you ready for me?” I knew it was Drew. How a man his size could sneak up on me not once, but TWICE in the same day was a mystery.

“Actually, you've got perfect timing.” I turned around to see him bringing his coat with me. “I'm onto the very last details. Can you try this on for me again?” I asked and Drew smiled softly.

“Your wish is my command.” He flirted, and it worked. Every muscle in my groin twitched as he spoke and smiled at me.

Cover your emotions. I told myself. “Ok. Ok. Casanova.” I brushed off his flirtation. “I've got a job to do.” I said seriously, but I couldn't hide the tiny hint of a smile that played at the corners of my mouth. He looked so pleased to see it. “Try it on.” I told him.

He did, and we found that the coat was just a bit longer than he wanted. That was an easy fix.

“Let's get you measured.” I said professionally. “Are you wearing underwear?” I asked seriously.

He didn't answer right away, but lowered his head a bit and quirked an eyebrow up. “Excuse me?”

“Cut it out, Drew.” I said crossing my arms across my chest to show him I meant business. “I need to measure you, and I can't do it over your jeans. Surely, you've had to do this for other costume crews.”

A look of realization came over his face. “Oh, Yeah. Yeah. I'm wearing underwear.” Did he just blush?

He looked directly into my eyes as he reached to the button of his jeans, I couldn't help realizing just how perfectly they fit him. Dear golly! I wish all men wore their jeans like him. Stop it! I turned to get my tape measure and my notepad to avoid watching the extremely sexy man stripping.

Stay professional. Do your job. You've seen men in their underwear before. This is no different than any other fitting. Focus on your job.

When I turned back around, Drew was standing in just his t-shirt and his boxer briefs. The sight was enough to get me wet, but I focused on my work. I tried to pay attention to anything other than his body. This was quite possibly the most awkward I'd ever felt in my life, even though I'd measured plenty of men for trunks and pants.

It was just as I was measuring his inseam that my hand brushed against his balls and I dropped the measuring tape. FUCK! He pulled away from me slightly. There was no doubt that his penis hardened a bit at the touch. “I'm so sorry.” I apologized not even looking up at him and went back to my work.... trying not to think about the growing appendage in front of me.

It was then that he tentatively said, “Would now be a bad time to ask you out?”

I barely had time to even register the question when I heard “YES!” from across the room. It was Sandra, and she headed our way. “Highly inappropriate, and if you say anything else, I'll call HR.” She tapped my shoulder. “Take a break Y/N.”

I was relieved and confused. Did he just ask me out? Right after I brushed against his balls? I knew it was a terrible thing for him to do, but there was a part of me that wanted to say yes. I admit that this particular part was focused on his growing dick, but that doesn't make his question right. “Why don't you go take a walk?” She asked me. “Come back when you're ready.” I nodded in agreement, not sure what to say, and as I walked out, I heard Sandra start railing on Drew, “What the fuck were you thinking? This poor girl is just trying to do her job, and you come in here...” As the door shut, I couldn't hear her anymore.

Once I was in the hallway, I didn't know what to do. I stood there dumbfounded for a minute. Baily was the one who found me there.

“Hey girl, are you ok?” she asked.

It shook me out of my fog. “Yeah, Yeah... Sorry. I zoned out.” I said to her. I tried thinking on my feet, “I was just headed to the restroom.” I answered and headed there.

I entered a stall and latched the door behind me. I just stood there, trying to catch my breath. Did Drew McIntyre just ask me out? I admit there was a connection between us, but to ask me out THEN? RIGHT THEN? What the fuck was that? Why would he do that? What could he gain from asking me out then. Was he joking? Was he serious?

These questions and more swam through my head all night. I dreamed of a Scottish king who took what he wanted. I dreamed of him in a kilt with a broadsword swinging at invisible enemies. I dreamed of his breath on my neck, his hands in my hair, his body against mine. I dreamed of lustful looks and stolen kisses, of all encompassing passion. I dreamed of him making love to me.

I woke covered in sweat and out of breath. Again, I needed to cum. Fuck! I laid in bed, knowing what I wanted, what I needed. I closed my eyes as I slid my hand down and made myself cum to memories of my dreams. Good Grief! I hope I didn't run into Drew today. I needed to get him out of my head.

I arrived at the arena a few hours early. I was headed to wardrobe when I spotted Drew talking to Aleister Black in the hallway. He looked positively flustered when he spotted me. He put both his hands up as if surrendering and slowly walked up to me.

“I'm so sorry.” He hung his head. “I don't know what I was thinking.” He continued.

I wrapped my arms over my chest and huffed. “I know what I said was inappropriate. Well, the timing was. Can you forgive me?” he looked at me with big puppy dog eyes.

“Drew,” I started but I couldn't think of what to say. There was an awkward pause.

I could tell the silence was upsetting him. “Let's just...... Let's forget it.” I said. I didn't mean to, but my tone sounded angry.

He raised his head a bit in relief. “I......” He stopped, unsure how to continue. “Can I just explain?”

The hanging of his head, the fidgeting as he talked, the fact that he obviously didn't know what to do with his hands.... in fact his normally controlled body language was replaced with uncertainty. He was vulnerable, and that struck me as pitiful. “Yes.” I said after a deep breath.

He started to look around, “Can we go somewhere away from others?”

I motioned to the end of the hall. It wasn't private, but it was far enough away that nobody would hear us. I noticed Alistair watching us from where he stood in the hall, and I took comfort in knowing someone was there if this all went south.

Drew cleared his throat and fidgeted again, “I know what I said... well, when I said it was all wrong. The truth is, I was very uncomfortable. When you accidentally brushed against me, my body....” he searched for the right word. “Responded.” He looked down at me shyly. “I wasn't exactly in a position to hide it from you.” He outright blushed. “I...” He huffed out a breath. “From the minute I saw you, I was attracted to you. When you brushed against me, and my body.... responded, I just got all awkward, and I said the first thing that came to mind.” He looked down at the floor. “It was completely wrong of me, and I do offer you my sincerest apology.”

If strong, stoic Drew was attractive, vulnerable, sweet Drew was downright irresistible. “So, what are we going to do about this?” I asked.

Drew was quick to answer, “Sandra is going to handle the jacket and my trunks from now on.” He said, and I detected a hint of sadness in his voice. He looked down at the floor.

“Like hell she will!” I said, and he immediately looked up at me in surprise. “That coat is going to be my masterpiece!” A slight smile curved one side of his mouth as a look of hope started to dawn in his eyes. “I'll be damned if I'm going to let anyone else get credit for your coat. I meant what are we going to do about the fact that we are attracted to each other?”

He was dumbfounded. His eyes looked scared and hopeful. “Do you..... Umm.... Will you.... Do you want to go out with me?” he asked.

I kept my arms folded in front of me, “I'm interested in having a couple of more conversations with you.” I said brusquely, “If you think you can keep yourself from being an ass.” I let the corner of my mouth curve into a smirk.

It was then that he hit me with a full, panty dropping, smile. “I can try my best, lass, but you get me flustered.” He answered.

“Try your best?” I raised my eyebrows questioningly then broke into a laugh.

He raised a hand in a pledge, “I'll try my best.” He waited a second before asking, “Can I buy you dinner in catering tonight?”

“It's not buying dinner if the food is free,” I teased.

He laughed heartily and the low grumble of it vibrated through my core. “5 o'clock?” He dipped his head in a nod.

“Sounds great.” I agreed. There was a momentary awkwardness as we tried to figure out how to end this talk.

“I'll see you at 5, princess.” He said gently, and I swear everything in me melted at the pet name.

As soon as I walked into wardrobe, Sandra descended on me like a vulture. “Drew is going to give you an official apology tonight. I'll be sure to be right by you for it.” She assured me.

“He already did.” I smiled.

She looked upset, “He did? He was supposed to come in here to apologize in front of me.”

“He ran into me on the way here. It's all worked out, but you're sweet to care so much.” I smiled.

“You're my best seamstress, and I won't have the talent treating you like a piece of meat. You deserve to be treated right!” Said like a true mama bear.

“Sandra, it's ok,” I chuckled. “I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself.” I smoothed my hand down her arm to assure her. “The fact that you came to my aid yesterday means the world to me. Thank you.” I said.

“Ok, ok.” She surrendered. “Did he do a good apology?” She questioned as she looked through a box of zippers.

I couldn't hide my smile. “Very good.”

The tone of my voice got her attention, “What did he say?” She prodded.

“That he was sorry. That it was an awkward moment and he said the first thing he could think of.” I thought about telling her that I'd brushed against him and he'd gotten hard, but decided mama bear would be furious if she knew that. “I'm positive he learned his lesson.” I assured her.

“Good.” She huffed and walked away.

I didn't lose track of time today. In fact, I checked the clock every 10 or 15 minutes until dinner time.

Drew was already seated when I got there, and I was 5 minutes early. I went through the dinner line and sat down across from Drew.

“I've got good news,” I chirped out in a sing song fashion.

His raised eyebrow asked before his words. “Yes?”

“Your coat is done!” I said triumphantly.

He chuckled at my tone, “Is it now? Pretty proud of yourself, aren't ya?”

“Well, after our conversation yesterday, I made some changes to Sandra's design to better reflect you.”

Now both of his eyebrows raised up, “Did ya now?”

I raised my chin strongly, “I think you're going to love it.” I said confidently.

“Well, lets swing by wardrobe after dinner and see.” He teased. “I'm sure I'm going to love it,” he said more seriously.

We sat and ate and ignored the looks on other's faces as we dined. We talked about our childhoods and jobs that led us to the WWE, and before I knew it, dinner time was done and we headed to wardrobe.

As we walked in together, I noticed Sandra saw us. She took a protective mama bear stance, and turned the sewing form so she could keep her eyes on us as she worked.

I handed the leather coat to Drew, and he gratefully accepted. “Let's see what you've been up to.” He joked. He stood in front of the full length mirror and began to unfold the coat. He glimpsed it before even putting his jacket on. His fingers ran over the embroidery. I had placed a small silver Celtic knots on both lapels of the coat. “They're beautiful.” He said in awe. “You did this today?” He asked as he put the coat on.

As we looked at how the coat fit him, he ran his hands over the knots again. “I love it,” He smiled.

I let a hint of mischievousness cross my face, “Wait. There's more.” I walked over to my work station and dug through the projects I was working on. I came back with the first pair of trunks for Drew. “These are meant to go specifically with the coat.” I handed them to him.

He gently unfolded the trunks and a giant smile erupted on his face as he saw the Celtic crosses on the sides and the giant Celtic knot I'd embroidered on the back. He looked almost stunned, “You did this?” I smiled, and I nodded which made him smile more. “That was so sweet.”

“Try them on,” I pointed to the makeshift changing area. He happily obliged.

When he walked out, everyone in wardrobe stopped. The trunks, the coat, the giant hulk of a man.... There was a confidence about him that was lacking in his street clothes. This time I didn't cover my gasp.... neither did Henry. (I heard him from across the room. )

“Take your hair down,” I heard Sandra say as she handed him a water bottle. He let down his hair, opened the bottle and poured a bit over his hair. Not as much as he normally would if he was going in the ring, but enough to get the full effect. He strode over to the mirror confidently and a rough, gravely growl emerged from him when he saw his reflection. He stood taller. He walked like a warrior. His muscles bulged.

“It's perfect!” Henry chimed from across the room.

Sandra placed her hand on my shoulder as she looked at my work. “It is,” she agreed. “You outdid yourself, Y/N.” She patted me gently.

“It is.” Drew gruffed out. The compliment sounded odd coming from the Celtic Warrior who stood in front of me.

I beamed with pride as Sandra began inspecting my work and found it to be flawless. “But don't ever alter my designs without my permission again.” Her voice took on a more professional tone.

I giggled and agreed. Everyone got back to work, leaving me in front of the mirror with Drew. He seemed like a whole other man in his full gear, which, I guess, was the best compliment. He was giant, daunting and incredibly sexy.

In the mirror, his eyes shifted to me. “Thank you!” I blushed at his words. We stood there a moment longer, looking at each other. Suddenly, his arms shifted and he pulled the coat closed in front of him. Just before it closed, I looked down to his trunks and figured out why. That made me blush even more.

“Why don't you change back into your street clothes?” I offered, pretending I hadn't seen his erection.

“Oh no!” He smirked. “I'm wearing this tonight unless you have to work on them more.”

I wasn't prepared for that, but he did have a match soon, so it made sense. I shook my head no. “I am going to go get ready then.” He said. “Are you going with us to Cincinnati tonight?” he asked.

“Yes.” I answered, getting excited at what he'd say next.

“Can we have breakfast tomorrow?” He tilted his head slightly to the side; causing him to look more like the sweet man I met yesterday than the Celtic Warrior he looked like in his gear.

“Mmmhmm” I nodded yes.

“I'll call you around 9 am then.” He said gently and grabbed my hand. He slowly brought my hand to his lips and brushed his lips across my knuckles gently. “Tonight's win is for you.” He said, and he walked out.

As I sat back down to my sewing machine, I noticed the impressed look on Henry's face and the curious look on Sandra's face.

#drew mcintyre #wwe #wwe smut #drew mcintyre x reader #wwe fic #fic

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candygirl101x · 5 years

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Romance MD: Always on Call Munechika Takado Review (if you can really call it that)

Honestly I wasn’t expecting to write a review on this, because; 1. I wasn’t the slightest bit interested in the newest release. 2. And secondly…well I don’t write reviews.

But I haven’t seen that much noise about this title yet; whether that’s due to the lack of interest, the lengthy time it takes to read this whole story, the frustrating amount of hearts (A.K.A your hard earned dollar) you have to spend to achieve a SHE, or perhaps all of the above.

When I saw advertisements for Love 365’s latest release, I honestly didn’t give a damn. Oh joy, another Love Choice title (which by the way everyone asked for…not), the same old character types (I felt like Voltage should’ve changed their name to ‘Oresama’s R Us’) and I didn’t take a liking to any of the character’s physical looks either (except Kasumi, what a babe.)

So when Romance MD was finally released I wasn’t rushing to read it. Lately I’ve been more preoccupied reading another otome (Mr Love Queen’s Choice, if anyone is interested) rather than any releases on Love 365 as it just isn’t giving me that enticing story that I’d throw away life’s commitments in an instant to read. After reading Takado’s story, I only wish that I’d stop judging a book by it’s cover (although I know I definitely won’t).

I found myself reading through the story mostly because it was free (we already know the debate on that one, in the end I think I spent £14) and because I was bored. However, it wasn’t long before I found myself being sucked into the story and just thoroughly enjoying the interactions between the characters.

The MC

I could describe the MC as a breath of fresh air, I could describe her as a complete car crash but I feel as though a more accurate description is Marmite. For those of you who don’t know (probably anyone outside of the UK), Marmite is a food spread that people have on toast/sandwiches etc. The debate is that there are thousands of people who love Marmite more than their firstborn child but on the other hand there’s equally as many people who think Marmite is the work of Satan himself, and would find their dog’s faeces more appetising. So I can’t help but feel like you’ll love her for being new, exciting and different…or you’ll hate her because she’s extremely arrogant, a know-it-all and just plain annoying.

Reasons to love the MC:

She’s clever, like really clever. I have no idea what half those words mean that come out of her mouth but this girl knows her shit.

She’s determined and persistent. I mean, I guess all MC’s are when I think about it but it’s generally a good trait to have. The MC doesn’t let Takado out of her sight for a second, even using her skills of being on the track team in highschool to sprint after him when he tries to run away which is highly hilarious. Although can you imagine an MC who isn’t persistent? We’d have no story. Kind of funny thinking about that actually, an MC who just says “Right! I’ve had enough of you abusing me, I’m off home to eat ice cream and watch Netflix. You continue cutting people’s legs off willy nilly like they can grow back.”

She’s relatable. I can’t stress this one enough. Yeah maybe not the medical textbook mumbo jumbo but the social awkwardness and the constant daydreams of Sekai (her otome boyfriend) is something many of us can understand.

She’s not a sheep. This girl has a mind of her own. I take my hat off to her for going up against her superior’s when she thinks something is wrong, I don’t have that kind of backbone.

Reasons to hate the MC:

She can be plain rude. Like I can praise the girl for sticking up for herself but sometimes she’s a little too tart-tongued for my liking. I did cringe a bit, wishing she’d dial things back from time to time.

Missing some classic MC traits, comes across as arrogant. I mean, I guess this one is personal preference. I do like the more outgoing MC who isn’t afraid to speak her mind, but surely it’s natural to not be so arrogant in front of doctors who have years of experience on you? Like the MC is 26, I’m pretty sure all of the guys are 30+ (pretty sure Takado is 35) and have been doctors for a longer time than the MC has even been training to be a doctor. I did find myself missing the humble, kind hearted MC a bit. You really don’t have to be arrogant to be a strong willed woman, my favourite MC is the MC from Our Private Homeroom, I felt like she had a good mix of all the traits.

Can be annoying. Like there’s a time and place to be talking about the topic you’re currently spouting on about MC, and now definitely isn’t the correct time/place.

I was honestly saying the same thing to myself Tak

Takado

Takado himself is not necessarily anything we haven’t seen before. He’s not hiding anything you probably haven’t already guessed. Him and the MC have frequent domestics (which 9 times out of 10 end in her being hit over the head with a file) in places they should definitely not be having domestics, which in itself provides a series of highly entertaining scenes, for not only us but also the rest of the ICU doctors. He doesn’t baby the MC, he tells her when she’s done messed up but does also show signs of kindness behind his stoney façade, especially more towards the end of the story. I also appreciated that his backstory was more than meets the eye, there’s nothing I find more boring than a predictable plot line. Generally, I found him likeable. In fact, more often than not I felt sorry for him for having to put up with the absolute garbage that drops out of the MC’s mouth. I dunno how the hell he ended up falling in love with her too, I’d run a mile if that was me. But then again I did pay £14 for him, so if he didn’t I’d be god damn pissed.

He is equally (actually even more so) as intelligent as the MC, without bragging about how much he knows which was rather refreshing. I mean he does call the MC a thousand different variants of the word stupid, but every single time was justified in my eyes.

Although one thing I must say...

God damn son.

Stuff to Note

One thing I need to comment is holy smokes, how long is this story? When I saw the looming 30 chapters I figured that they were probably going to be over faster than my money leaves my account on payday, but boy how wrong I was. Now this almost certainly is a money grab in order to get you to spend more hearts to get the “good choices” but despite that, I was really impressed with just how long the story took me to read. Maybe I’m just getting old, but usually on any main story I can bash it out in under 2 hours. With this, I actually had to stop myself from reading and go the hell to sleep because it was 4 in the morning. When I checked the next day to what chapter I was on, I thought I was tripping when I realised I’d only just made it halfway through the story. Voltage kudos to you. The story was the perfect length to have good plot pacing, decent character development and satisfying romance at the end.

Now granted if you’re looking for a lovey-dovey romance throughout the whole story this isn’t the route for you. The romance doesn’t really kick start until at least 3/4 of the way through this route, and even then it’s nothing that exciting. The MC struggles to understand what love even is herself, having her only boyfriends being fictional otome men (the relatability is real), she finds herself unable to register what those feelings are. It’s not until a playful bullying from the other ICU doctors and a dictionary search that she realises she’s in love.

But in general, I found Takado’s route an enjoyable read with well placed comedic timing and good focus on the the more serious side of things when it was important. So if you find yourself bored like me, maybe just give it a read. Just don’t come at me with torches and pitchforks when you’re $15 poorer.

Moments I Particularly Enjoyed

The reminder that you are in fact reading the correct story

The scientific breakdown of kabedon

The obvious sarcastic remarks, that the socially inept MC doesn’t understand

The casual discussion of banging in the workplace

Pros and Cons

Pros

Character Development. I feel like both the MC and Takado showed character development. The MC when she finally figured out she has to stop being so damn arrogant and realise the consequences of when she opens her mouth. And Takado, that he can’t just tell people they’re having their leg cut off and just walk off.

Length. Need I say more.

Good pacing. Story progresses, MC progresses, Romance progresses. Good job guys.

Well written. Actually laughed out loud a fair few times whilst reading this story, which I definitely wasn’t expecting. Also whoever came up with the idea of the character sprites holding up a board for comic effect is a god damn genius.

Good group dynamics. I mean it’s not KBTBB, but I enjoyed reading the interactions between all the ICU doctors. Hopefully with more releases we’ll be able to see more of their relationship with each other.

Cons

Love Choice. I mean you can read this story completely free…just you won’t know any of the back story, you won’t get any of the romantic moments and you’ll get the shit ending. But if you’re happy spending $15 for a main story then this is a pro I suppose.

Lacking in romance. Now I’m not saying there isn’t any, I personally don’t have an issue with how things progressed (I much prefer the romance to come in following stories like epilogues and sequels) but I have a feeling if you’re after something with a lot of romance running throughout it, this story won’t be for you.

Too many legs were harmed in the making of this route. People be getting their legs cut off more times than I’ve had hot dinners. Everyone thinks Takado goes around cutting people’s legs off for fun…and honestly you can’t blame them for thinking that.

Not many CGs. Remember the days when we had 6 CGs for a main story? I know I’m being picky but having 1 CG in episode 1 and the last CG in the SHE, that only leaves 2 other CGs for 28 episodes. If you’re gonna have a main story that long, surely you can spare another CG or two Voltage?

I’ve put the character sprites and the CGs below a read more button so people can avoid spoilers. So if you’re interested in what I’ve officially renamed the characters keep reading :) VVVVVVVV

Starring

Dr.Amputation (I’m telling you now, you wouldn’t want this one for your general health checkup) (Takado)

Angry Coach (Takao)

Angry Coach’s Wife (Who I’ve actually forgotten the name of)

Darling Boy (Haruto)

Darling Boy’s mother (Yoko)

Flirty McGee (Hosho)

Kasumi’s Die-hard Fan (but can you blame him?) (Kyogoku)

Dean the Absolute Meme (Matsunaga)

Ghost Hospital Director (Seriously, I think we see him like once in the whole route(why is he even on this list? Because I already had a screenshot and I’d figured I might as well use it) (Usagida)

ICU’s On-Call Doctor Dealer (Ekuni)

Total Babe (Kasumi) (Just you wait till your ass is out bitch)

Also can you blame me?

Ultimate Waifu (Missy)

Partner in Otaku Crime (Asuka)

Cute Penguin (Watch out Sydney, she’s coming for your top spot on the favourite Voltage mascot list and probably your large swimming pool) (Kalmia)

A reformed KBTBB Villain (Mario)

The Main Character (Sekai)

The Actual Main Character (Why we see her sprite for one split second I’m not overly sure, but yeah hard pass Voltage)

CGs

Episode 1

Episode 18

Episode 27

SHE

Now if I were you, I’d go and actually find a good review to read. Like @aqvarius

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yoonseoksoftie · 5 years

Text

deadly friends. | ch. 0

› pairing: min yoongi x reader › word count: 2.5k › tags: ghost!yoongi | high school au | mystery au | [future] angst › summary: ❝ there are many things a person should consider before buying a car. mileage, gas consumption, and motor condition are a few to name, but never a supernatural entity. after buying what you presume is the car of your dreams, you find that an annoying dead boy was never part of the deal. ❞ › a/n: i was in the shower when this idea came to me so i had to write it! like the entire story came to me, from beginning to end, so am so happy to write this. i hope you guys enjoy it! don’t forget to let me know what you think!

"Well, what do you think?"

The seller's voice held an edge of optimism while she looked over at you from the passenger seat. Her tight smile was bordering on demented and if you focused on it, you could hear her teeth grinding against one another.

You tapped your fingers over the peeling material of the steering wheel, nibbling on your bottom lip. The car wasn't in poor condition, it passed all the requirements necessary to qualify as a useful car, and after the three test drives around the block, it had proven itself to be the one. The only issue was the price, were you willing to spend that much money on a used car?

"I'll take it."

"Yes!” she cried out, clapping her hands together and smiling even wider than before. "I'll go get the paperwork."

She stepped out of the car and with one final crazy smile she was gone. You wanted to laugh at how ecstatic she was, it was as if she was the one buying her first car. But you couldn’t blame her, you were over the clouds. The black convertible was your ride to freedom. No more taking the smelly bus filled with rowdy kids to school, or waking up an hour early to catch it. Now, the only thing stopping you from going everywhere you pleased was your mom.

"Bookstore..." you said to yourself. "Here, I come."

As soon as the words left your lips, you felt your shoulders drop. Memories of you laughing with your friends flooded your mind. What had once been a fond memory that warmed your heart, now brought you immense sadness. It had been three weeks since you had moved towns. From one day to the next, your mother had hauled your entire life onto the back of a truck with the excuse of pursuing love.

In those three weeks, you had walked around your new neighborhood countless times and had failed to spot any people your age. The only person you had stricken a conversation that lasted more than five minutes was with a lady that lived three houses down from you and spent the majority of her days gardening. Her name was Hye-Kyo, and she loved to talk. Like no joke, the only reason you even conversed with her was because she carried the entire conversation all on her own, jumping from topic to topic with no concern for time. You did learn that she had a son named Jungkook, he was around your age and loved video games. You had yet to meet him but you were hoping the two of you would get along, that way you wouldn’t be alone once the school year began.

"The bookstore, really?"

You felt your cheeks burn at the thought of the lady hearing you blubber your thoughts out loud but were surprised when you looked up and found yourself alone. Frowning, you twisted your neck to search for the source of the voice and felt your heart stop when your eyes landed on the review mirror.

In the back seat of your car sat a pale boy with light brown hair.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to face him. "What are you doing in my car? Didn't your parents teach you about stranger danger?"

The boy looked stumped, eyes wide and mouth agape as if you had just told him you wanted to go bungee jumping with Beyoncé.

“Y-you can see me?” he propped his right leg on the seat, bending it at the knee so he could rest his chin on it, his eyes flashing bright with curiosity.

You ignored him and eyed his mud-caked boots with fury. How dare this punk put his dirty shoes on your semi-new car?

"First of all," you began, reaching towards him through the middle console. "Take, your nasty ass,"—you smacked his leg with enough strength to show him you meant business— "boot of my seat."

The boy gasped, horrified. "Y-you can, you can touch me too?"

"What? Of course, I can touch you," you let out affronted. This kid was just aching to get hit again and you were more than happy to comply. "Want me to show you?"

"But how did you—?"

"Alrighty," the passenger door opened to reveal the sale's lady carrying a manila folder filled with papers. "Here we go. These are the papers you need to sign, uh…is everything all right?"

You removed your irritated gaze from the pale punk to look at her.

"Oh yeah," you assured her. "Just," you pointed in the direction of the boy only to find an empty seat. "...talking to myself."

"Hope you're not talking yourself out of it," she half-joked, offering you a faint smile.

"No, no, no," you waved at her absentmindedly, "Where do I sign?"

The drive back to your new house was the longest and most awkward drive of your life. And you were alone in the car! The pale punk had shaken you up, leaving you to go over every second of the quick encounter continuously trying to figure out how he got in and out your car without making a sound.

Every now and then you'd spare your backseat a quick glance through the review mirror hoping to find him sitting there, but that was completely ridiculous because a person couldn't just appear and disappear at will.

You shook your head, clearing your mind of such thoughts. The boy was probably some dumb kid that didn't have anything better to do than to bother people and he foolishly considered you an easy target. Well, he had another thing coming. If you ever saw him again, he was going to get a piece of your mind.

Parking in the driveway of the white house set the butterflies in your stomach free. The mystery boy was long forgotten. You couldn't wait to see the look in your mom's face when she saw your new car. You had been saving up for almost a year and a half now, taking up different part-time jobs and doing side jobs for quick cash, and finally, you were cashing in your reward. Obviously, you still had to pay for its insurance, but that was for you to worry about later.

Fetching the keys from your pocket, you unlocked the door.

"I'm home!" you exclaimed loudly, "And I have a surprise!"

Your words echoed throughout the empty house.

Making your way to the kitchen, you spot a neon yellow sticky note on the refrigerator door.

"Went out with Camilla, there's leftover pasta in the fridge.

Love, Mom. ♡"

You sighed.

Of course, she was out with Camilla. Everything was about Camilla nowadays. Camilla is part of the wine club, Camilla is building a pool in her backyard, Camilla this, Camilla that. You understood your mother was putting herself out there and that she was exploring her sexuality but did she really have to abandon you like this? You knew it wasn't her fault, you hadn't told her about the car but still. You hardly see her around lately, and even though you live together, you were beginning to miss her.

You drag yourself upstairs, this whole Camilla mess making your head hurt.

The extravagant staircase was one of your favorite things about the house. The wood was a rich brown color with a layer of shine, and it went up in a spiral-like shape. Every time you went up and down the stairs, you felt like royalty. For this house, it seemed your mom had chosen everything based on one word: bigger. This house had a bigger kitchen, living room, bedrooms, restrooms, backyard, you name it. But it was beautiful, everything was fresh and new and you loved it.

You had to hand it to your mom, she had good taste.

Unlike you.

Your room was bland, for lack of a better word. Your bed was pushed against the far left corner of the room near the window. Next to it was your desk, your computer and books laid messily over it, and to your right was a dresser with clothes sticking out of half-opened drawers. Home decor was not your thing. Lately, nothing seemed to be your thing.

This was your final year of high school and you had yet to decide on a college or career. Your mom was constantly on your ass about it but every time you tried to make a decision, your mind went blank with panic. Another wave of sadness hit you like a brick to the head.

Oh, the tragedy.

"Not very organized I see," came a contemplating voice over your shoulder.

You jumped forward, a shriek leaving your lips.

The punk with muddy shoes was back, and he was inside your house, inside your room to be more precise.

"How did you get in here?"

Your heart was pounding against your chest rapidly, and your face was burning hot with awareness. An unknown boy was standing in your messy room. The clothes sticking out of the dresser were screaming at you and you realized that it was underwear sticking out of the top drawer, and the books all over your room were chastising you for not shelving them when you had time. You felt embarrassed and then you felt angry. How dare he make you feel embarrassed about being in your own room?

"Through the door," he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He walked towards your bed and laid down, placing his folded arms behind his head. "I hope you're planning to do something about the walls, they look really bland."

This was the second time this boy had shown up in your presence unannounced, and you weren't liking it. The backseat of your car was one thing, but your room? Your room was a whole new level of invasion of privacy. And he had the nerve to insult you. You were just about ready to explode.

"Five seconds," you said, pointing a finger at him menacing manner. "I'm going to give you five seconds to explain yourself before I go full Bruce Lee on your ass."

The boy stared at you for a long while, his eyes searching your face. He seemed to have found whatever he was looking for because he said, "My name is Yoongi."

Yoongi.

The name was strange yet familiar. You’d heard that name before somewhere, you just couldn’t remember where.

"Okay Yoongi," you said slowly, taking crablike steps until you were standing in front of your dresser. You reached behind you and worked your fingers hastily to shove the clothes back into the drawer as best as they could. "Could you explain why you've been following me? I'll tell the police to go easy on you if you do."

Yoongi puffed out his cheeks and rolled his eyes.

“I’m not following you,” he explained, before straitening up against the headboard and scratching the back of his head, looking uncomfortable. “I mean I am but not in a stalker way, I just…”

“Oh, thank God!” you exclaimed, your voice an octave higher than necessary. “You are not a stalker! You’re just a stranger that follows people they don’t know around, oh wait.”

He rolled his eyes again, before shooting you an annoyed look. “Are you always this sarcastic? And I’m not a stranger, I told you my name.”

You couldn’t help the dry laugh that fell from your lips. It was more of an airy “ha!” rather than an actual laugh at this kid’s nerve.

“I know your name?” you let out hysterically, pacing back and forth and throwing your hands in the air. “Why don’t you stay over for dinner then? Since we know all about each other now. How does that sound?”

If you thought Yoongi was annoyed with you before, he looked like he was just about ready to push you out the window. His brows were drawn together in a frown and he was pouting, cheeks covered in a light flush. If you weren’t completely freaking out about his sudden appearance, you would have pinched his cheeks. He resembled an incredibly cute pissed off kitten.

He let out an exasperated breath as if he was the one dealing with a breaking and entering situation.

“I’m going to show you something, okay?” he placed his hands in front of him to show you that he meant no ill will. “But please,” he begged. “Don’t be frightened.”

Before you could mention how untrustworthy his words sounded, he disappeared.

Yoongi was gone and you were staring at an empty bed.

You had seen many strange things in your life. Like your friends eating ice cream with toast or that kid from school who used to listen to heavy metal music while he studied but never had you ever seen a person disappear like that. Hesitantly, you moved forward and swung your arm through the space where Yoongi had been sitting. Your arm was instantly met with something solid.

Both of you exclaimed at the same.

“Heeey!” you heard Yoongi whine as he reappeared, rubbing at the side of his face. “Why did you do that?”

You were stunned.

Yoongi had superpowers.

That was the only explanation you could offer. He could make himself invisible. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. This strange boy you had just met had superpowers.

This was the strangest day of your life.

All the books you had read before were coming back to you. Was this the beginning of your adventure? Was this the part where Yoongi told you that you were not of this world and he was here to take you back to your people? Did you have a superpower?

The two of you were silent for what felt like hours.

“Please say something,” Yoongi spoke gently, worry swimming in his eyes.

“You have superpowers,” you let instantly, the words spilling from your mouth like they have been stuck there for years and had been finally released.

Yoongi rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling, murmuring something under his breath.

A million questions were running through your head right now. Too many for you to properly turn them into words and express them verbally. This was insane. Completely fucking insane. This boy in front of you had superpowers and you had witnessed it firsthand.

“How long have you had them? Why are you showing them to me? Does anyone else know? Do you work for the government? Oh my god, is this about the stolen weed because I had nothing to do with that, I swe—”

“Stolen weed?” Yoongi questioned, a look of utter confusion plastered on his face. “What are you talking about? I don’t have superpowers, dumbass.”

“Then how are able to turn invisi—Hey! Who are you calling a dumbass, dumbass?”

Yoongi sighed, for the hundredth time that day and ran a hand over his face. His lips were pursed and there was a serious look in his eyes. You wanted to shake him and demand an answer but you refrained yourself. Instead, you stared right back at him and thus, began the world’s most intense staring competition.

“I’m a ghost.”

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gazing-imagination · 4 years

Text

How to put 'It Works' to work for YOU!

The powerful idea presented so simply and well in 'It Works' will change your life. I know this because it has changed mine. The fantastic results that I have created using this idea have motivated me to investigate these principles for 25 years.

I want you to be rich with things that make you happy. I'm going to give you ideas and images you can use to help you be more successful with the list technique presented in 'It Works'.

What I have Done With 'It Works'

My annual income is now 35 times greater than it was the day I first read this little book. I have gained houses, cars, boats, businesses, friends, a family, and numerous creative and prospering ideas using the principles set forth in this book.

In the last 25 years I have spent thousands of hours teaching these ideas to other people. I've seen many people use the ideas in this book to create something new in their life, and I have seen others who are not so successful with it. I want you to be one of the successful ones.

How to Succeed with your List

First, let's take a little test. Take a sheet of paper (or your word processor) and without looking at the book write down the 'Three Positive Rules of Accomplishment' that are the key to this technique.

Then go back and compare them to the text. How did you do?

Did you miss a few? I did when I first tried this test myself.

If you read this book and it never goes farther than words and ideas in your mind, then you have lost the advantage of it.

The key to success with this method it to DO IT, not just think about it. Don??t think that by reading it, even many times, that you will know it. That would be like thinking that you know how to ride a bicycle just by reading about it. In order to master the bicycle, you have to get on it and ride, learning to keep your balance as you move forward. That is exactly the way you learn the principles of conscious creation taught by ??It Works??.

When I first started using the technique in this book, I wrote my first list, and started getting great results. Then after a month or so, I stopped writing and reviewing the list, and tried to 'do it in my head'. I didn't get the same results.

I went back to using the list, and the great results started happening again. Then I got what I wanted and let things slide, and the cycle repeated.

Meanwhile I started studying the ideas and teaching them to others. In the process I learned some interesting things I am sharing with you.

What I learned is that each of us has a spark from the Creator which is our own personal creator, like a genie from a magic lamp. The problem with this genie is that he responds to every thought in my mind as if it were a command. If I think of something with desire, he starts creating that for me. If I start to worry or fear, he starts to erase that creation.

Wherever I put my attention, the genie starts multiplying that attention into a real experience in my life. All of this creation takes place in a part of my mind called the subconscious mind. The subconscious mind is the part of my mind that holds the tremendous creative power that I can learn to tap into and use. However, it has a special way of working that I must understand if I want to use my subconscious mind power effectively.

If my attention wanders all over the place, my subconscious becomes full of half-created thought-forms and my life is chaotic or boring. That??s because the genie is busy trying to do a million different things at once, many of which contradict each other. His efforts always follow in the track of my attention, and until I get my attention going in a constant direction, I don??t get the results I would like.

The plan given in 'It Works' helps me to control my attention, and put that genie to work with enough time and focus to produce real and complete results. It will work the same way for you.

My conscious mind sets the agenda, but I often get distracted by the half-formed and malformed effects of previous wishes and desires. Many of those desires are unconscious, created with incomplete understanding or fear or worry. The genie does what I tell him, but he listens to my daydreams and worries and treats them as commands.

This creative power responds to what I believe. I have come to realize that what I believe is not necessarily the same as what I think. It's easy to know what I believe - it is what I act on. It is what I do. Even while I am unable to admit to myself what I really believe, my subconscious mind is working to make circumstances, opportunities, and events in my life to experience those beliefs.

How do I change what I believe, so that I can get what I want? There is a simple way to do this. It has been discovered and rediscovered by teachers and writers throughout the ages.

Here it is:

I can imagine what I want, I can pretend that it is so, and I can repeat this over and over.

The creative genie of my subconscious mind responds to imagination, focused attention, and repetition. That's what the book 'It Works' is all about.

How to Get Faster and Better Results

Here are things that will help you create more successfully when you use the technique presented in ??It Works??. These are things that I have discovered in the last 25 years of using 'It Works.' Each of these is a suggestion based on actual experiences with using the list. Use the ideas that sound good to you.

The most important thing is to do exactly what it says. Follow the plan exactly: Create a list, include what you really desire in order of its importance to you, read the list three times a day, think of the items on the list as often as you can, and don't tell anyone what you are doing.

For faster demonstration of results, you can rewrite the list each day, even if it hasn't changed. Reorder the items on the list according to their importance to you. Doing this makes the ideas new again, and will lead to more rapid success. It??s also important to do something physical with your ideas, as soon as possible. Writing them out is a way to give them entry into the outer world of manifestation. It creates a toehold for their growth into physical reality.

If you have a tape recorder, you can read the list out loud in a firm voice and tape it. Then play the tape over and over again (perhaps in your car as you commute to and from work). This needs to be done and played in private. That's easy nowadays since you can get an inexpensive tape player with headphones.

I found a little digital recorder that records into it's own computer memory, and then plays it back over and over again through headphones. You can also do this with the 'Sound Recorder' program that is built into most personal computers.

Put real amounts, specific items, and specific dates in your list. Some people worry that this is 'outlining' and delays manifestation. But what good is it to get Coke when you want Pepsi, or Pepsi when you want Coke? You don??t plant strawberries and expect to harvest watermelons. The most important thing is not a particular item on your list, but developing your power of conscious creation.

Do you have trouble remembering the items on your list? If so, it may be that they are not really that important to you. Try memorizing the items on your list.

Are you having trouble finding ten things to put on your list? Are you unsure which things should really be on the list? Here??s an easy way to build your list: ask yourself- ??What do I think about all day??? That is what should be on your list. You may have to start by listing your worries, and then turn each of them into a positive desire. For example, what do I worry about? What would need to happen for me to not worry about this any more?

If you have trouble finding things that you want, try thinking of it in another way. What would you like to see happen?

How will you know it is working?

When you receive an idea about something that is on your list, act on it in a positive way. Sometimes the thing you want requires a few intermediate steps. Be ready to go through several doorways as they open before you, to reach your goal. If you want a car, perhaps you will find yourself creating a new set of tires first, or a garage to keep the car in.

Realize that many of the things you want will find you. You will be tempted to say, 'but I didn't do anything, it just happened.' Your inner mind genie will use the simplest and most efficient way to create the results you imagine. It doesn't care who gets the credit. After a while you won't either!

Remember that your genie is working nonstop, according to the program that you set for him. If you say, ??this can??t be working??, he will do his best to make that seem true ?V even while he continues his nonstop creation of the other things you ask for.

How will you know it is working? For most people it is not one thing, or two things, but the fact that one thing after another manifests in their lives. The first thing you get from your list seems to be a coincidence, the second is luck, the third is serendipity, and the forth is a miracle. Finally after many creations, when your friends start wondering what the heck is going on, you will realize that there is a simple and rational law in operation, and that you know how to use it.

Get excited and enthusiastic about the good things coming into your life. If this doesn't seem natural to you, go ahead and use your 'power of pretend' to fake it until you make it. Appreciation is the oil of the engine of creation. Enthusiasm and excitement are manifestations of your appreciation, and confirmation of your positive expectation.

The attitudes that will delay your success or confuse your creation are jealousy, envy, resentment, reservations, uncertainty, and indecisiveness. Put all of those to the side. The more you recognize your own creative ability, the less you will care about those things that these attitudes have been attached to. You just won??t have time for those ways of thinking any more.

There is no such thing as a negative thought - every thought has a positive result in reproducing itself. Every thing you think about grows in your mind and becomes part of your physical life. That??s why it is so important to control what you are thinking. The key to controlling your mind is replacing the thoughts that create what you don't want, with the thoughts that create what you do want. You do not resist the old thoughts, you replace them by putting your attention somewhere else. Using your list is your key to accomplishing this. Use this physical tool to reinforce the thoughts that you want.

Think of your subconscious mind as being like a sailboat in the middle of the ocean. The sailboat is blown everywhere, back and forth, by the wind, which is the power of thought. It needs a keel and a rudder to be able to set a course and make way to a certain destination. Your list is the keel and the rudder of your subconscious sailboat.

Thought follows a certain structure in your mind. The idea comes first, then the belief, then the attitude, and then the behavior. Your strongest foundation, the anchor of your thinking, begins with your behavior. Change your behavior, then change the attitude that changing the behavior reveals, then change the belief that inspires the attitude. Grab hold of an idea that is bigger and more inclusive than the small ideas that have kept you poor and unhappy.

When you are tempted to tell everyone what you are doing to make the changes in your life, send them a copy of this book instead. After you have received 40 things you have asked for, you can start talking about the process you are using. Keep a list of everything you get until you receive 40 things you have asked for.

Many people find this book, and use it to get one important thing, and then abandon this method. How did this book come into your life? Your genie brought it to you, or brought you to it, in response to your conscious or unconscious desire to create a specific experience, or to understand creation itself. Take advantage of this experience, and make this intelligent, conscious creation a way of life, not a one-time experience.

??Hey Peter, get back in the boat!?? - the other 11 apostles

Trying to control other people and make decisions for them is a misuse of them, and of your own creative power. The most important thing you can make is a decision. Trying to take that opportunity for creation away from others is based on fear, not love. Fear in your mind will generally create things you do not want. Lewt people learn their lessons. God loves them, too.

I learned something wonderful long ago, that will give you freedom. I can??t prove anything to you about anything important or meaningful. However, I can tell you how you can experiment and prove these things to yourself. If I walked on water, you would be looking for the rocks. If you walk on water, you will know that there are no rocks. Using this list will show you how to walk on the water of your life. You will have to learn to politely ignore your friends as they yell: ??Hey Peter, get back in the boat!??

The Toyota Principle

The subconscious mind creation process goes on all the time. You don't have to be good to make it work. You don't have to chant, exercise, or repeat magic words. You are rich now with the results of what you have been thinking about. Your life is always full of something. If you want to be rich with something else, change what you are thinking about.

As you develop your ability to consciously direct your creation process, as you build your confidence and increase your will power, your results will come more quickly and be more satisfying. Don't delay this process by calling the results coincidence. Wait until you have received at least 40 items on your list (by receiving something and replacing the list item with a new item) before you judge the results as coincidence or creation.

You are already a success at creating what you are thinking about - everyone is. The biggest enemy of conscious control is self-importance - which may manifest in disguise as self-deprecation, worry about what others think of you, or the desire to have others approve of you. Don't let your ego distract your from taking control of your mind and your life.

Everything in your life is there because you have asked for it through either desire or fear. Nothing comes to you by itself. I call this the "Toyota Principle" because there used to be a commercial advertisement on television for a certain car company with the catchphrase "You asked for it - you got it - Toyota!' When you have used your list for a while, you will begin to see this is true, and then vast realms of possibility will open in your life.

It's a friendly universe.

If you are of a certain religious orientation, you might be concerned about this creative process and think it is a possible affront to God. I don't think it is. Think of the New Testament phrase, ??Pray without ceasing.?? I have decided that this is a description of what we all do all the time. We pray nonstop without knowing it. Practice of the method of conscious creation will show you what prayer is, how it works, and that it is always functioning. I am firmly convinced that learning how my mind works, and how to use it more effectively to help myself and others, is what God wants me to do. How about you?

You don't have to believe in God to use the list. However, don't be surprised if using the list shows you that there is order and structure to the universe, including your mind as a part of that universe. Your world is a lot closer to you and more responsive to you, than you may have considered it to be. It's a friendly universe.

Be careful about including other people on your list. If you want joy and happiness with Jane or Bill, is the joy and happiness more important, or the relationship with Jane or Bill? Maybe the best way to be happy with Jane is let her go find Bill, and let Suzy come find you. As long as you are focused on what someone can give to you, you aren??t yet completely experiencing love.

It may be tempting to think your success is dependent on the channel it happens to come through - your job, your family, a particular relationship or thing you possess. Time and experience will show you that this is not so. In the meantime, place your sense of appreciation and thankfulness on the Creator within you, who has made you in his image as a creator. When the river of your life changes its channel, you had better be ready to go with the flow.

How fast will it work? Faster than you will expect. I put the number one item on my list last week and it manifested in two days ?V and I thought it would be six months or maybe never. Fortunately, while writing and then rereading that list item, I suspended my disbelief. Even before your pen finishes the sentence, the act of creation has begun. Of course there is no magic in the pen or paper ?V the magic is in making the decision a physical thing instead of just a mental idea. No matter how long you use this method, there will be times when you are just utterly amazed at what ??happens?? to you. (It isn??t happening, you are creating it.) How fast can it happen? Don??t blink twice ?V you??ll miss it.

Everything you think will try to prove itself ?V including your skepticism. If you are afraid of what others will think of you, or of what you will think of yourself, then you may be fooling yourself while thinking you are being completely rational. The world is plastic to the molding power of your thoughts ?V even while you think this is untrue, or don??t have a thought about it at all. Everything lives and moves and has its being in a sea of self-modifying thought. You can prove this to yourself, and put it to effective use, with the simple experiment of work with the list for a few weeks or months.

It doesn't take much time or effort. You have nothing to lose. No one will even know you are doing it. They will just think that you have suddenly become incredibly lucky, intelligent, charming, and good looking. It helps to smile a lot.

Creating complete mind pictures is very helpful. That is another book in itself. Feeling joy and enthusiasm about your mental creation is very helpful. It will start to happen naturally as you use this process over and over, because ?{

It Works!.🏄‍♂️ ~Brad Jensen

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kaychawrites · 5 years

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The Right Partner

My Hero Academia Fanfiction

Charcters: Katsuki Bakugou x Kia Hales (OC)

Rating: Mature

Tagging: @cobblepottantrum @rageyoudamnednerd @frenlysnek666

Ch 27: Phoenix

Kia’s heart was racing as she closed the door to her apartment. It seemed she was going to wake up with her heart pounding in one way or another. She could still feel Bakugou’s body heat on her skin and she was covered in his scent. “Geeze, what the hell was I thinking falling asleep at his house?” Kia said to herself. It could have turned out bad if she had a nightmare while sleeping next to him.

Wait, I didn’t have a nightmare, Kia thought suddenly. In fact, she felt like she had slept really well and couldn’t remember having a dream at all. That freaked her out even more. She hadn’t been that comfortable around someone as long as she could remember. She never even let her guard down that much around Phoenix. Walking to the bathroom, she turned on the shower so she could get ready for the day. Looking at her phone, she saw that it was 7:00 in the morning. That gave her plenty of time to get ready and get to work. Undressing, she stepped into the spray, washing away Bakugou’s lingering scent and willing her heart rate to slow to normal.

%%%%%

Bakugou got ready for work and left without Kia. He figured she would talk to him while they filled out paperwork that morning. She had left so abruptly, and he wasn’t sure what to do with the awkward feeling between them.

When he made it to their office, he opened the door to find it empty. The computers weren’t on and there was no coffee on his desk so. He figured Kia hadn’t arrived yet. He sat down and got to work. After an hour Kia still hadn’t shown up. Bakugou pulled his phone out and sent her a message. He continued doing paperwork until another hour had past. Still no Kia, and she hadn’t replied to or looked at his message. Irritated, he opened his contacts and called Jeanist.

“Hello, Ground Zero. What can I do for you?” Jeanist answered.

“Have you seen Kia?” Bakugou asked.

“Yes, she came in early this morning around 7:30. I asked her to do a couple of things for me. She should be back around lunch time,” Jeanist answered. “Did she not tell you?”

“No!” Bakugou snapped.

“You didn’t do anything to make her mad,, did you?” Jeanist said accusingly.

“No!” Bakugou fumed.

“Well, all you can do is wait for her return,” Jeanist said.

Bakugou hung up and set his phone on his desk. He continued working until noon; still no Kia. Grabbing his phone, he sent her another message. I’m not doing all this damn paperwork myself, he typed. Getting up from his desk, he decided to eat at the agency today and made his way to the small mess hall on the second floor. Exiting the elevator, he turned and saw Kia standing outside the mess hall talking to Nina. Kia’s phone dinged and she looked at it, typing something before sticking it back in her pocket.

Bakugou’s phone vibrated and he took it out of his pocket to see a reply from Kia. Send them to me and I will finish them this afternoon,sShe had sent. Bakugou was pissed. She had been gone all morning and that was all she was going to tell him. He headed over to where she was standing and he saw her shoulders tense before he even took two steps.

“Sorry, Nina. I’ve got to go,” Kia apologized before walking towards the stair access doors. Bakugou went after her. Throwing the door open with a bang, he saw Kia had just made it down the first flight.

“Hold it right there, Sunshine!” he yelled, making his way down the steps. “Why the hell are you avoiding me?” Kia had stopped on the landing, waiting for him to catch up. Bakugou came down the last steps and reached for her arm but Kia pulled away. “What the hell is your problem?” he bellowed.

Kia didn’t turn around. “I’m sorry, I know it is stupid but I can’t talk to you right now,” Kia answered, not looking at him.

“Why? Because of what happened this morning?” he snapped. “Who the hell cares?”

“I just need time to get my head on straight,” Kia sighed looking up.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Quit being an idiot and let me know when you decide to go AWOL. You just ended up sleeping on the couch with me; it’s not a big deal,” he said, but he could feel his face heat up.

“Maybe it’s not a big deal for you, Bakugou, but it is for me!” Kia said spinning around to face him. He couldn’t quite place her expression. It was a mix of anger and something else. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I never drop my guard like that and it scares me. If I had a nightmare and lashed out at you in my sleep again…” She paused, clenching her fists. “I know it was an accident and it didn’t mean anything, but I have trouble with that kind of thing. So if I need a morning to get back to normal then just leave me the hell alone. I will get my work done before the day is over, I can promise you that. Just e-mail me the forms!” she snapped, turning back around and continuing down the stairs.

Bakugou watched as she exited the door at the bottom. What the hell does she mean she has trouble? he thought to himself. The whole conversation just pissed him off even more. He didn’t understand what the hell was bothering Kia so much that she didn’t even want to talk to him. Was she so appalled at sleeping on top of him that she couldn’t even look at him? Sulking Bakugou shoved his hands in his pockets. Deciding he wasn’t hungry, he headed back to their office. When he passed the door to the second floor he didn’t notice that is was open slightly and Nina was on the other side listening to their conversation.

%%%%%

Kia headed to drop off a bundle of reports at another agency for Jeanist. She felt bad for snapping at Bakugou like that. Waking up on top of him had scared the shit out of her. The image of his blushing face would not leave her mind and she didn’t like the feeling she got when she thought about it. He was her partner and she trusted him but the feelings she was having were dangerous. It reminded her of how Phoenix used to make her feel and he ended up getting killed. She swore she would never feel that way about someone ever again. She did realize how stupid she was acting but the whole thing seriously rattled her. Giving a deep sigh, she knew she should go back and explain things to Bakugou but she still wasn’t ready to tell him everything.

She continued to run errands for Jeanist until 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Leaving Jeanist’s office she made her way down to her and Bakugou’s but when she got there it was empty. Bakugou must have gone out on patrol, she thought to herself.

Turning on her computer, she opened her email to see Bakugou had done his half of the reports and all of them were ready for her to finish. “He really is a good hero,” she said out loud. She spent the next couple of hours completing all the reports and sending them off for review. When she was done it was dark outside and Bakugou hadn’t come back from patrol. Kia packed up her things and headed home, deciding to let Bakugou blow off some steam on his own.

When she got to the apartment building she paused outside Bakugou’s door and listened for any movement inside. Hearing nothing, she continued to her own apartment. Stepping inside, she took off her shoes and locked the door. Moving into the living room, she paused while looking at the pictures she had hung on the wall. “Maybe I should have brought Chloe,” she said to herself as she looked at a picture of her and a black and white border collie. After changing into a pair of sweats and a long sleeved shirt, she headed to the kitchen, deciding to make Bakugou something spicy as an apology. Sticking her earbuds in, she hit play on her favorite station and started to get lost in the music while she cooked.

%%%%%

Bakugou got back to the agency late and was disappointed to see the office was empty. Checking his email, he saw that Kia had gotten all the paperwork done and submitted, leaving nothing else for him to do for the night. Gathering his stuff together, he decided to go home. When he got to his apartment he took a shower then pulled on a pair of sweats and a shirt. Wondering if Kia was home he headed out to the balcony. Crossing over to hers, he was relieved when he found the light on and the door unlocked. Opening the sliding door, he stepped in to see Kia dancing around in her kitchen. Looking closer he could see she had her earbuds in. Leaning against the doorframe, he stopped and watched her dance as she cooked.

Kia reached into the cupboard and grabbed two plates. She whirled around to the music and set the plates on the counter next to the rice cooker. She loaded up the plates with rice before dancing back to the stove. Pulling a spoon out of a drawer, she dipped it into a pot on the stove, tasting the sauce she was making. She hummed at the creamy texture and spicy kick. Picking it off the stove, she set it on the counter and turned to grab the chicken she had cooked. Dropping the chunks of chicken on top of the rice, she poured the sauce over top then grabbed the steamed vegetables off the stove and spooned them onto the plates.

While Kia was plating the food, Bakugou quietly moved into the apartment and sat at the counter behind her. He couldn’t help but smile as she swung her hips to the beat of whatever song she was listening to. The food she was making smelled delicious and he smirked at the fact that she was fixing two plates.

Kia moved to the sink and was washing out the pot when her head jerked up and she spun around to see Bakugou sitting at her counter. (“Jesus Christ, B! You scared the hell out of me!”) she exclaimed in English, pulling her earbuds out.

“One of those better be for me,” he said pointing to the plates.

“You are lucky I didn’t claw your eyes out,” she said, turning around to grab the plates. Setting one down in front of Bakugou, she handed him a set of chopsticks before grabbing some herself.

Bakugou ignored her as he grabbed a chunk of chicken from his plate. He didn’t hesitate as he took a big bite and was delighted when a bunch of spice hit his taste buds.

“Do you like it?” Kia asked, picking one of the steamed vegetables off her plate and popping it in her mouth. Bakugou merely nodded as he took another bite. They sat in silence as they ate both, too preoccupied with their meal.

When they finished, Kia took the plates to the sink and started to wash them. Bakugou came around the counter, giving Kia a questioning look and she pointed to a drawer. Bakugou opened it to find hand towels inside and he started drying the dishes as she washed them. After putting the last dish away, he set the towel on the counter and leaned against it, looking at Kia expectantly.

“I’m sorry,” Kia sighed. “I know how I’ve been acting is stupid but you gotta realize it is hard for me.”

“What do you mean?” Bakugou asked, not moving.

“If I’m going to talk about this, I’m going to need a drink,” Kia said walking to the refrigerator. Opening the freezer, she pulled out the bottle she had received from her siblings in the care package. Setting it on the counter next to him, she opened a cupboard, and pulled out two glasses and poured a little of the amber liquid into both. Handing one to Bakugou, she retreated to the opposite counter, taking a sip before looking back up at him.

Bakugou swirled the liquid in his glass, giving it a curious sniff before taking a drink. The alcohol burned its way down his throat, warming his belly and leaving a strong cinnamon taste in his mouth. “What the hell is this?” he asked, looking at the sweet liquid again.

“Fireball whiskey,” Kia replied taking, another drink. “My family loves the stuff.”

“It really burns,” Bakugou said, taking another drink.

“Yeah you get used to that,” Kia chuckled.

“So are you going to tell me what you meant?” Bakugou asked straight out.

“They guy who bought me was a real piece of work,” Kia started, taking a drink. “He thought of the people he bought as animals and treated us as such. His favorites had it worse though. Not only would he torture us physically, but he liked to mess with our emotions and play with our mind,” she said, pausing. Bakugou said nothing as he waited for her to continue. “It was like he wanted to see how far he could push us before we broke.”

“Did he break you?” Bakugou asked.

Kia hesitated, looking up at him before draining her glass. “He did,” she replied, setting her glass down on the counter and pouring more whiskey in it. Reaching into her shirt, she pulled out the cord with a red feather on it and held it up for Bakugou to see. “Around two - maybe three- years after he bought me he introduced me to a boy that was about my age. He kept us together and the boy became my partner of sorts. He was the only person close to me that could understand what we were going through and he became important to me. We did everything together and even shared the same cage until we started getting older. I only knew him by the name Phoenix and as the years went on he became my rock in the storm and I was his,” Kia said while turning the feather over in her fingers.

“I didn’t realize it at the time but that was exactly what the master wanted. He put us together hoping we would form a bond. Then he could use that bond against us. One day I disobeyed the master’s orders,” Kia continued, getting a faraway look in her eyes. “Master wasn’t happy with me. He had a lot of plans for us, and Phoenix wasn’t showing as much promise as I was. Master decided that Phoenix was holding me back, so he brought us to a room and had the caretakers chain us down facing one another. Then he told me how it was all my fault right before he shoved a dagger into Phoenix’s heart. I don’t remember much after that,” Kia said, swallowing down the rest of her glass.

Bakugou stared at Kia. He couldn’t believe what she had been through and here he was calling her Sunshine, not realizing what she hid behind that bright smile. “Shit,” he said as he downed the rest of his glass. Kia grabbed the bottle, filling her glass before reaching over and pouring more into his.

“I’ve only told that story to three other people,” Kia said, taking another drink.

“So you don’t want anyone to get close to you?” Bakugou asked, not fully understanding what Kia was getting at.

“It isn’t that I can’t or don’t want to have real relationships with other people. I just always keep them at a distance. But you’re different; you are becoming someone who could be used against me and that scares the hell out of me,” Kia said. Finishing her glass, she set it in the sink and put the bottle back in the freezer. She then walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch, holding the feather up to the light.

Bakugou stood in the kitchen, still processing what Kia had said. Draining his own glass, he walked over to where she sat. Leaning over the back of the couch, he looked over at her. “I’m not weak enough to let anyone use me against you,” he told her.

Kia smiled at him, her cheeks red from the alcohol. “I know B; you are a lot stronger than Phoenix was,” she said. Reaching over she grabbed the back of his head pulling him close to rest her forehead against his.

Blushing, Bakugou pulled away. “What the hell was that?”

“It’s an animal thing, I guess you could call it a nuzzle? Dad always did it to comfort us when we were little. I guess I just need some comfort,” Kia smiled. “Sorry, I should have asked first.”

“You’re drunk,” Bakugou accused her.

“Only for the next ten to fifteen minutes. My body tends to metabolize stuff fast,” Kia said, laying her head back on the couch.

Bakugou stood up and moved over to the wall where a bunch of pictures were hung. He recognized the picture of her family. He also saw a photo of her with a group of people that included her three friends he met on video chat. Then there was a picture of her with her arms wrapped around a black and white dog. “You have a dog?” he asked looking back at her.

Kia’s head came up off the couch as she looked at what he was talking about. “Yep, that is my service dog Chloe. I got her after I was rescued, she would wake me up when I was having nightmares,” Kia said lying back on the couch.

“Why didn’t you bring her with you?” he asked.

“There is too much paperwork and regulations here in Japan to bring her over. Besides, I would have to keep her in the apartment and she is used to running through the fields at Dad’s house,” Kia explained.

Looking over the photos, he saw one of Kia holding two infants with a little boy peering over her shoulder. “Those are my nieces and nephew,” Kia said walking up beside him. “Here they are transformed,” she said, pointing to a picture farther down.

Bakugou looked at the picture to see a lion cub with two spotted kittens getting ready to pounce on his tail.

“The twins are jaguars. You can’t tell them apart unless you know the differences in their coat patterns,” she said, her cheeks not as red as they were a little bit ago. Kia continued to tell him about the people in the pictures until it was late.

“Well, I don’t know about you, B, but I’m ready for bed,” Kia said, smothering a yawn.

Bakugou walked over to the balcony door. Before stepping outside, he turned around. “Hey, Sunshine, thanks for telling me,” he said.

Kia smiled at him. “Thanks for listening.”

Bakugou stepped out on the balcony. Making his way to his own apartment, he thought about everything Kia had shared with him tonight. He couldn’t help but feel like she had only told him a small part of her past.

#mha #bnha #katsuki bakugou #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #ground zero #TRP #Kia Hales #OC

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escapingreality1992 · 4 years

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Secret Pen Pals Ch. 5

Keira’s POV

Thanksgiving showed up faster than expected. Meaning, I needed to pack for the trip to my parents’ house. It also meant I would live up to the promise to send a letter to Steve detailing my time spent with family. While packing, I made sure to pack the essentials like clothes, toiletries, and the like. In two separate bags, I made sure I packed the beginnings of Steve’s blanket, plus the writing items I needed to send him something. If anyone asked, I could pass it off as getting back into writing. Who knew? Perhaps I could work out something anyway.

Once I was packed, I hailed a cab to JFK airport, my flight being at 12:10 p.m. I’d arrive in Greensboro close to two and at my parents’ around 2:30 or 3 depending on the traffic with it being Thanksgiving. The thing about me is that I tend to get to some places early, arriving at the airport two and a half hours earlier than my flight. Most people did this anyways, preparing for delays in security and checking in luggage. Not too surprising, given that it was busy during the day itself.

It only gave me an excuse to sit down and read in my boarding gate. This time it was a book I needed to read for a book club I joined a few days ago. Unfortunately, this particular book bored me; I guess I could attempt to get it over with while sitting here. It would allow me to move onto the next Dresden Files book on the plane. As it happens, the goal was achieved and I wrote up a quick review about the book; Where the Crawdads Sing, one of the most hyped-up books this year. Not my favorite, a little slow, and a bit shocking at the end.

I guess I couldn’t figure out why everyone loved it, but then that’s their own opinion. I’m not going to condemn them just because I didn’t like it. It didn’t live up to my own standards, but I have always had weird tastes to begin with. It’s not like people can’t enjoy the book, but I didn’t really care for it and that’s okay.

Satisfied with the review, I shut down my laptop and put it away, tuning into the next book of interest. I didn’t get very far into it when they called us to board, a full flight; thank goodness I brought my earbuds to tune out the surrounding noise around me. I breathed a sigh of relaxation as the plane glided through the air, reading taking over any unnecessary thoughts roaming around in my mind. The only ones that sought out freedom from the story playing out before my eyes were the ones about Steve.

How would he celebrate the holiday? Would it be with friends or family? If we had met, would he travel with me? Meet my family? Would he invite me to spend it with his? A small smile tugged at my lips at those thoughts when they popped up, enjoying them and the scenarios that came with them. I imagined my parents and the rest of my family welcoming him with open arms.

Dad would probably grill him about his intentions and try to find out every little detail about him. Mom would talk his ear off, making subtle remarks about marriage. These scenarios prompted a giggle from my throat, silenced by the look I caught from the person sitting next to me. Wouldn’t it be lovely if Steve was by my side at this moment?

We landed and I waited for people to get off the plane to head to baggage claim. Before I booked the tickets, I had gotten Dad to agree to pick me up from the airport and planned on meeting him outside in the carpool lane of the PTI airport to return to their home.

“Hey, daddy. Happy Thanksgiving,” I greeted him, handing off my suitcase to be put in the trunk of the car. The other bags were put in there as well before he embraced me in a tight hug.

“Hi, honey. Welcome home. Everyone should be arriving at 3 for dinner. Did you have a nice flight?”

“Yeah, it was fine. Full, but fine,” I told him, getting in the passenger side and closing the door.

“It is Thanksgiving. It’s to be expected. Your mom is excited to see you and I imagine Newt will want to see you as well,”

“He’ll tackle me and then lick me to death. Still, I’ve missed the big furball,”

“Just a heads up, Keira. I’m sure your grandmas will want to know about what you’ve been up to. They’ll want to know about your love life, so expect a lot of questions,” Dad warned me.

“Wonderful. I can’t wait,” I grumbled, my happy mood now dampened. I was under the illusion that I’d get through the holidays without more people wanting to get involved in my life. It appeared everyone wanted nothing but to invade how I was getting on with it; if I was dating, where I was heading in my career, if they could offer any unwanted assistance. If only I could become invisible to avoid all the pestering.

“You’re staying until Monday, right?” Dad asked, getting off the subject of the impending interrogation I’d be receiving upon the arrival of other family members.

“That’s the plan. Unless I decide otherwise,” I answered. If things. If things went awry, I wanted to fly home immediately, avoiding the crushing drama, which happened each time our family got together. If things appeared normal, then I’d stay, enjoying the company of my parents. It’d all depend on everyone’s attitude and if they chose to piss me off, intentional or not.

“Alright. You’re in your old room. Not much has changed, except we repainted the walls this summer,” Dad stated.

“Thanks, Dad,” We pulled up to their two-story house and parked behind the second car they owned. He helped get my things out of the trunk to carry them inside; scraping claws sounded from the living room to the kitchen where we were entering, followed by a loud bark. A giant German Shepherd jumped on me, the force of his weight making me stumble back a little.

“Newtie! Hey, buddy. Who’s a good boy? Newt is. I’ve missed you Newtie,” I stated, pushing his front paws to the floor and petting him as he spun around in circles. He sat and the proceeded to lay down in the middle of the floor for me to rub his belly. I dropped to my knees to give him the attention he wanted before getting up to place my luggage in my room for the weekend. I unpacked and found my brush, running it through my long hair, getting the tangles out from it getting bunched up on the plane. A knock sounded at my door and I turned to face my mom.

“Welcome home. I trust you had a good flight,” she greeted me. I nodded and walked over to hug her.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” I told her.

“Others will be arriving soon. Come on down,” she said, letting go and exiting the room. I sighed and descended the steps, preparing myself for the dinner of possible drama. At least, I could count on Newt to keep me in a good mood.

Steve’s POV

Sounds of things being banged around roused me from sleep; a section of blonde hair falling in front of my eyes when I sat up. My first thought is someone was breaking in and I needed to go help resolve the situation. Not caring if I attacked them without a shirt on, I bolted from bed and sprinted downstairs, ready to spring into action.

Listening for where the noise was coming from, I follow it to the main dining room, trying my best to be stealthy. I peek around the corner to find Thor, Wanda, and Tony hanging Thanksgiving decorations. Standing straight from my crouched position, I walked in to address what is going on.

“Tony? Thor? Wanda? What are you guys doing?” I asked, confused as more decorations are put into place on the walls.

“Thanksgiving. I’ve invited a few people over to eat. It’ll be kind of a big family feast. Strange will be here as well as Wong, not to mention it’ll be good to have a break from things for a few days,” Tony stated, moving chairs down to make more room at the huge conference table we held meetings at.

“Thanksgiving. Right. I didn’t realize that was today. Do you need help with anything? I could grab supplies at the store. Maybe cook the turkey,” I said.

“You can go with Natasha for the food and help cook. We’ve got the decorations covered. I might suggest you put something on that isn’t sweatpants though,” he responded to my question. I nodded and returned to my room to change into a gray shirt, jeans, boots and my favorite leather jacket. I met Nat downstairs by the entrance.

“Ready to go?” I asked her, receiving a shake of her head.

“We’re waiting on Bucky. Don’t get mad, but I’ve invited him because I think you should tell him about…her,” She told me.

“Nat. I’m not sure I need to tell anyone else about Keira,” I argued.

“Steve, he’s your best friend. He should know. In case you need him to talk about her with. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to tell anyone else,”

“I’ve got you, don’t I?” At the quirk of one of her eyebrows, I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face.

“Alright, fine. I’ll tell him. Only him. I don’t want anyone else to know. Not until after we’ve met. Not until I know for sure,” I said. She smiled, patting me on the arm. A minute later, Bucky joined us, and we walked out to one of the SUVs in the garage. Natasha drove us to the store we normally shopped at, my heart hammering at the thought of telling someone else about the letters and Keira.

“Wait, wait, wait. You mean to tell me you’ve been writing to a complete stranger? A woman named Keira. And you didn’t tell me?” Bucky said when I revealed the secret to him.

“Yeah. I tried to keep it secret until Natasha discovered one of the letters. Tony technically saw one first, but I grabbed it before he had a chance to ask any questions,” I answered. I carded a hand through my hair, a bit nervous about his next reaction. He pulled a couple of bottles of wine – both red and white – from the shelves and placed them in the shopping basket with the other supplies we acquired.

“Why?”

“Why keep it a secret? I don’t know. I-,”

“No, why didn’t you tell me? You know I don’t judge, and I don’t spill secrets. Why didn’t you say something?” Bucky asked, his expression turning to anger.

“I guess I wasn’t sure how long it would last. I didn’t expect to develop feelings. It just sort of happened. I feel connected to her in ways I never knew existed. This is nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Especially not with Peggy when we interacted,”

“How long? How long have you been writing to her?”

“A few months. Since September. It started as an event from a bookstore. No deadline, but I thought after the first letter, we might stop, get bored. Except her first letter drew me in and I found I didn’t want to stop corresponding to her.

The second letter made me realize I wanted more. After the third, I knew I needed more. The last one I sent to her, I knew I wanted to meet her,”

“A few…Steve, you should’ve said something. Especially, if you think you’re falling for this girl. Have you looked into her? Found out who she really is?” Bucky said, tossing in blocks of cheese when we approached the deli department.

“No, and I don’t want to. Something about her words makes me feel I can trust her. You can’t tell anyone. Please, Buck. I’ll tell them eventually. After I meet up with her, once I know for sure she’s the one I want. The letters are wonderful, but I’d like to see what happens when we actually meet face to face,” I replied. He raked a hand through his hair, taking in what I said, a sigh escaping his lips.

“I’m not saying anything to anyone, I promise. When will you see her?”

“After the holidays. I would like to start the new year right. Create new beginnings. See how things go. I’ve sent her this request. I have to wait to see her response. Of course, there’s the possibility that she won’t respond if she feels I’ve crossed a line,”

“What happens if you meet before the holidays are over? Will you be prepared for it? Will you be prepared if things don’t pan out the way you want them to?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about me. Everything will be okay, whether Keira and I connect more or not. Let’s just get through Thanksgiving,” I stated.

“If they don’t end up together, we can always set him up with someone else,” Natasha chimed in, throwing in packets of gravy. I managed to nod and chuckle at her comment, secretly hoping Keira and I would work out, so that didn’t happen.

We finished up shopping, returning to the compound to prepare the feast. Tony told us guests would be arriving around 5, leaving us plenty of time to get everything together and to change into nice attire – I changed into a dark blue, button up shirt, black trousers, and black leather loafers to complete my outfit – celebrating with our huge family.

Often, I found myself wandering to thoughts of Keira; how she was getting along with her own family, if she was thinking about me, how, if she were here, would she get along with my own version of family. I’d look at Natasha and Wanda with their arms around each other kissing or Tony and Pepper gazing at each other with adoration and wonder what Keira would feel like in my arms.

Even Strange had brought a date and the same pang of loneliness I felt at the benefit returned; I shoved it away taking in the happiness of the group around me. I was loved by many, my friends always being there for me. Bucky was even like a brother to me. It didn’t stop me from wanting to be loved by her, by Keira. I knew she had gone to North Carolina. Again, as I approached a window, peered out of it, glancing at the stars, I thought of her.

Meanwhile, in Greensboro

Keira’s POV

During one part of the night of Thanksgiving, I drifted over to one of the windows and peered up at the stars, lost in thought, already broken away from conversations with those who were there. Other members of the family showed up; first my mom’s mother who I called Mimi, then dad’s side – his brother Andrew, my aunt Kelsey, my cousin Callie and her son Jonathan, plus my dad’s mother – Grandma Luanna, all being on time to the feast.

As expected, everyone inquired into my life, asking about if I was seeing anyone and my career, which all in all wasn’t too bad. It appeared to die down when food was ready, and everyone sat down to eat. Still, I wanted to disappear, to write to the one person I wanted to talk to. The one person I wished was here. Later when everyone has cleared. When my parents have gone to bed, I thought. I knew if I left for too long, questions would be asked, secrets would be discovered.

Feeling the need of a brownie, I strode over to the counter and piled three of them on a plate and sat down at a table before Callie came over. Currently, as I nibbled on the brownies, a conversation was held between the two of us about New York.

“I wish I could’ve gone with you. It’d be nice to have my own place. Especially in New York,” she said.

“It’s not too bad. It’s prettier in Fall and Winter,” I said, taking another bite of the chocolate treat.

“So, you haven’t found anyone yet? To date, I mean?”

“Please, not this again,” I groaned.

“Why not? You’ve been up there for two years and no one’s asked you out? Not even any of the Avengers? Like Tony Stark?” she pressed.

“He’s engaged, Callie. It wouldn’t work even if he wasn’t. He seems nice, but he’s not really my type,”

“Stephen Strange?”

“I thought you didn’t like him because of his supposed arrogance. Alas, no, he hasn’t. I’m not really in his world though. He’s kind of hot, but I don’t usually date someone based on looks. Trust me, I’ve seen his pictures before and after the accident,”

“Thor? Captain America?”

“No and no. Callie, don’t worry. I’m okay.

“You don’t want a boyfriend? Aren’t you lonely?” she asked, the last question hitting home. Sure, I was a bit lonely, but I didn’t think any of the Avengers would be the right choice. Maybe Captain America, but I would like to get to know the man behind the mask and costume. Not that I knew his real name. I’d like with that anyone, really. I liked to get to know the people I dated before I dated them. I fell for personalities, not necessarily looks. I was a firm believer that someone could be good looking but could end up being a jerk.

Steve was one I really enjoyed finding out about, getting to know. He appeared to be warm and gentle; a captivating soul. Not to mention he made feel warm inside.

“Don’t tell me you’re interested in women. Is that why you dismissed the men I offered?” Callie asked, a look of disgust on her face.

“No. Of course not. I’m a little lonely, but I’m not in any rush to get married right now. When I meet the right one, I’ll be sure to tell you. By the way, there’s nothing wrong in liking women,” I told her, annoyed by her attitude. Callie scoffed and changed the subject before we joined everyone else. The celebration lasted a few more hours, going until around 8 when everyone went home, leaving my parents and me alone for the rest of the evening. We mainly watched movies, the cheesy kind in which everyone lived happily ever after. You know, like Hallmark movies.

Around midnight, my parents retired to bed while I crafted a new letter to Steve.

Steve’s POV

“Explain to me why you’re still single. You could have any woman you want and yet you haven’t found one single girl to date. To settle down with,” Tony stated, knocking me out of my thoughts.

“I don’t know Tony. I’m not rushing into anything. You know how I am. I like to be friends with people, or women, before I do anything,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I still think you would have found someone by now,”

“It’s not that easy. Plus, we’ve been busy these last couple of weeks, not to mention all of the years we’ve been fighting enemies,”

“I don’t think you’re trying hard enough. Maybe-,”

“Tony, leave him alone. He’ll settle down when he’s ready. It took you years before you found Pepper,” Natasha cut in. Tony surrendered and the subject was dropped. I mouthed a thank you to Nat and tuned into the funny stories everyone was sharing. The night started becoming late, coming up around 1 a.m. and soon Strange, his date, and Wong returned to the Sanctum.

One by one, people left to return to their rooms, giving me leave to go to mine. I picked up a book, deciding to read for another hour, but kept losing interest. My attention kept wandering to my desk where my notebook lay, a letter waiting to be crafted. It’s not that I was afraid to write another one, but after the last one I sent, I wasn’t sure if I should write one. What if Keira had decided I had crossed a line and wanted to cut off communication.

Write her, Steve. You can still be friends with her, I thought. Closing the book, I walked over to the desk, crafting a new one. I stuck to asking about how she celebrated Thanksgiving and wishing her a good one. I tried not to confess my feelings to her again, instead telling her about Bucky and Natasha, followed by some fears I had. I even wrote her a story with warmth, an imagined scenario I wanted to happen between us.

Four Days Later

Our routine hadn’t returned during the rest of the week, allowing us the freedom to do what we wanted. I still went out for runs, the cool air distracting me from waiting by the mailbox for another letter from Keira. I managed to stay out of the compound as some of the couples were being a little loud with their own activities.

Even Bucky and I hung out at coffee shops and movie theaters to get away from it all. In fact, I had ventured out to a coffee shop this afternoon to relax and read, returning in time with the mail truck, approaching the box after the mail man had left a stack of mail in it. Thumbing through the stack, I found the one I was looking for. I strode inside, leaving the rest on the coffee table. No one was home except for Bucky, leaving me to look at the contents of the letter without anyone being nosy.

I threw it down on the bed, pacing back and forth. What would be her answer? What did she think of me now? I picked up the letter immediately putting it back down, nerves encompassing every part of me. I ran a hand through my hair, squeezing the back of my neck as I stared at the envelope. Unable to bear the unread contents, I sat down in the middle of my bed, opening it with shaking fingers and pulling out the paper within. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I unfolded the letter and started reading.

Steve,

Believe me when I say you haven’t crossed any lines. Thank you for the confession. Truth be told, we’re on the same page. I believe I’m falling in love with you too. Your words have me made me feel like nothing I’ve ever felt with anyone before.

I can’t stop smiling every time I receive something from you. I feel more alive, more confident when I write to you. I feel I’m a lot braver when writing, the words flowing like water on these pages. I think it’s time we meet. See where this goes. I agree with your suggestion. Let’s meet after the holidays. Start fresh with a new year.

Start somewhere small. Maybe coffee or lunch. Or maybe a movie. Do you want to set a date and place to meet? Would you like me to? I can send over my schedule and you can send me yours to figure it out.

“She wants to meet. Keira said yes to meeting,” I stated out loud and in shock. A wave of happiness washed over me next, my lips stretching out in a huge grin. I’d have to get with Tony to figure out some sort of schedule and find out a good time to get together with her. I wanted lunch to spend as much time with her as possible. Maybe we could stretch it out into a dinner. I continued reading, interested in every word.

Perhaps, you’re also right. Maybe fate will have us meet earlier. Still, I think a plan should be made in case it doesn’t happen. I want to see you, to touch you, to feel your skin against mine. I imagine you’re warm and gentle. Your words alone have me thinking it. I have no doubt we’ll be happy when meeting. I believe we’ll get along great.

Yes, I watched the storm. I believe I said so in my last letter. My power went out and I resorted to candles when it was over. It’s funny and lovely that one storm brought a connection between us, drawing us in. It’s not only the letters, but nature must be telling us something. Maybe we’re meant to be.

I loved your list of favorites. For your next musical, once you’ve watched Rent, you should give Phantom of the Opera a try. The movie is beautiful. So is the show. I saw it live in Vegas a couple years back. Reduces me to tears every time. I’ve always loved the Phantom even though some of the choices he makes are awful. I’ve seen the Goonies. It’s fantastic. It took me a while to see it, though. I thought it was something different than it was. I…I’d like to have your arms around me. Especially, during the Winter.

Some country singers I think you might like are Lady Antebellum, Dan + Shay, Hunter Hayes and Kip Moore. They’re pretty good and have some softer songs I think you’ll enjoy.

As you can probably see from the address on the front of this envelope, I’m at my parents for Thanksgiving. Things weren’t as bad as I thought. Yes, they grilled me again, but at least it didn’t last the whole night. Of course, I’ve discovered I can’t drink a whole lot if I haven’t had that much food. I had a killer headache towards the end of the night, but I took Advil to make it go away. It gave me enough focus to write to you. I’m writing late at night, as when everyone left to go home from my parents’, we watched cheesy Hallmark movies until they went to bed.

This got a small laugh out of me. I imagined doing this with her next year, one arm draped over her shoulders, the other linking with her fingers. We’d be buried under one of her blankets, our bodies close.

Want to know something interesting? I found myself over at a window glancing up at the stars, thinking of you. I thought about what you were doing, how you were celebrating Thanksgiving. What it would be like to have you here with me.

Oh FYI, I’m here for four more days, so I may not get your letter until I get back to Brooklyn. It’ll be worth the wait, though I really want it much sooner. We need to meet, soon if possible. I miss you even though I haven’t seen you yet.

Until next time. Until we meet. Please write soon.

Waiting for you,

Keira

Tears welled up, a couple escaping down my cheeks. Clearly, we were more connected than we thought. Both of us were drawn to a window, both of us thinking of each other. A soft knock echoed at my door; I quickly wiped away the tears from my cheeks and blinked back the others that threatened to fall before I answered the door.

Behind it stood Bucky, who seemed to want to invite me somewhere. He took one look at my face and worry crossed his features.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Everything’s fine. Did you need something?”

“Danvers texted. She wanted to invite everyone out to drink and play darts at our usual bar. Want to come?”

“Sure. Let me grab my jacket and put shoes on,” I answered, turning back inside my room. I put up the letter and placed it in the box I had the others.

“Keira again? Did you get the answer you wanted, or did she reject you?” Bucky asked, once I got my jacket on and stuffed my feet in my shoes.

“I received the best answer one could get. She wants to meet. Turns out we’re more connected that I thought. Let’s go before everyone gets suspicious,” I told him.

“You’ve got it bad for this chick. I can only imagine what will happen when you finally meet her,” Bucky said. He was right. I had major feelings for Keira, and they would only grow stronger once we came in contact with each other.

Monday Night

Keira’s POV

I got back to New York around 8 p.m. and took a cab back to my apartment after picking up my luggage. I made a stop at my mailbox to pick up the missed envelopes and magazines I had gotten while away, taking the elevator to rummage through them.

My fingers landed on one special envelope, the address and name standing out. Steve. I smiled, eager to open it, waiting until I got into my apartment before I did so. I didn’t even make it to the bedroom before my fingers were under the edge of the envelope and pulling out the paper inside it. I sat down on the couch, pulling off my boots and began reading.

Keira,

It’s Thanksgiving. Something I forgot about until this morning. I almost attacked a few of my friends when they were setting up for the feast. You’d probably love them. Especially Wanda, who is a sweet girl. She’d love to watch movies with you, and she loves animals. Thor would wrap you into a bear hug because everyone says he’s a giant teddy bear.

Thor? He’s friends with an Avenger? I thought, recognizing the name right away and the next after.

Tony will talk your ear off about technology but he’s fun and intriguing. Anyway, a couple of us went to the store to pick up supplies to help out with the huge dinner. There’s a bunch of us attending the dinner and my friends are practically family since my real family passed away a while ago. Though, I wouldn’t trade this family for anything. I’d only introduce someone new to the group. I’d love to introduce you to this group.

Thanksgiving was enjoyable. We drank and ate a lot, having fun talking and hanging out. At one point, I went over to one of the giant windows we have here at home and looked out to the stars. My first thought was about you and where you were at that very moment. I knew you were in North Carolina of course, but I kept asking myself if you were at a window as well, staring up at the stars or if you were talking to someone you love.

I know I haven’t received your answer yet, but I still want to meet. I still want to see your gorgeous face. I’m being patient and I’ll gladly accept any answer you give even if…it’s a no or you don’t want to write anymore.

I’ll accept it even if it kills me, but it’s ultimately your choice. I only want your happiness, even if you might not want it with me. Based on your last letters, I feel that you want this, but I could be reading into it wrong.

Believe me, I want this. I want you, but you’ve sent this before you’ve gotten mt answer. You’ll be in for a surprise, I thought. I kept reading, soaking in his words.

I hope your Thanksgiving went well. No drama, no judgment. I hope you enjoyed your fill of turkey and dessert. As I sit here, I find I want to know what you’re thinking about. What you’re doing. Are you asleep? Are you wide awake? Are you writing to me or are you working on something original? Will you write me something you’re working on? Write me something that came from your imagination.

Send me something beautiful. Send me something romantic, though your words are just that. Send me something that speaks volumes of your soul. Something from your heart. Let me see it, let me feel it, let me hear your heart. Each beat, each color of your soul. Please?

You asked me to tell you about my oldest friend. His name is Bucky. Well, technically speaking, his full name is James Buchanan Barnes, but I’ve always called him Bucky. He’s my closest and we grew up in the same area. He’s the one that immigrated here. He’s originally from Romania in case you were wondering. Both of us grew up poor, but we got by when we could. We had our friendship too, which is nice. He was there when my parents died and has been by my side ever since.

He’s sweet and kind. He’s been through a lot though, but still has a kind soul. I feel like you two would get along great. You’re both gentle and loving. He’s the same one who made me get on the Cyclone at Coney Island and I threw up afterwards. He’ll most likely be the first person I’ll introduce you to after we meet…if we do meet. Bucky is the one I talk to most.

Apart from Natasha. She’s sweet too, but she’s got a fiery attitude. A good thing, a Natasha thing. She’s currently dating Wanda, a romance I don’t think anyone expected to happen. They’re happy together and that’s all that matters. In love, in fact. Their relationship blossomed extremely well.

I wonder if he’s friends with the same Natasha, I met a few weeks ago, I thought.

I don’t have a story to keep you warm at night. At least not something real. I can only give you a scenario involving us. I’ll try my best to give you something you can picture in your mind.

Close your eyes after reading this.

Imagine us in a cabin during the Winter months. It’s just us, no one else. It’s snowing. Not heavily, but it’s gentle, beautiful. Like you. Maybe it’s Christmas, maybe not. We’re sitting on a couch or bed, curled under a couple of your blankets. You’re pressed close to me. My arms are around you, your head is on my chest, my lips pressed into your soft hair as I kiss you there. Soft music is playing in the background, a fire crackling in the fireplace near us, surrounding the cabin in warmth as well as the blankets; as well as our bodies close together.

I lift your chin up to give you a kiss on the lips. It’s soft but lingers after a few moments. Even once we’ve pulled apart from it, your olive-green eyes gazing into my light blue ones. You snuggle closer, link your fingers with mine. We don’t even have a book. We’re reveling in each other’s company, enjoying the snow, the sound of the crackling fire, sharing kisses. Talking, loving one another.

I close my eyes once I’ve read it all. Re-live it in my head. It’s a lovely view. Something I desire to happen between us. Steve’s painted a beautiful picture and I release a sigh, wishing it was real. To have him sitting here with me, to have his lips on mine. I open my eyes to read the rest of the letter.

Can you see it? It’s not much, but it’s what I have. Something I’ve thought about before. Something I’d love to happen.

My fear right now is that we’ll never meet. That you won’t want to. I’m trying to stay positive. Other fears include losing those I’m close to, the world coming to an end. A world where you’re not in it. I fear that most of all.

Patiently waiting for you,

Steve

I can see it, Steve. I want it, I thought. I knew I was in danger of falling for him. Eager to set up a day to meet after the holidays, I checked my schedule for January. There were two weeks I was booked with dogs, but the 16th through the 20th, I would be free. Even some days towards the end of the month had some availability.

Fate would have other plans in mind that we wouldn’t foresee in the form of coffee. As if it wanted us to meet sooner and fall faster. If I must fall, then I’d gladly fall for Steve Rogers.

1 note · View note

sixcastappreciation · 5 years

Text

sixcago gave me my gay rights

alternative title: review of the evening sixcago show on july third

this is like almost 4k and its mostly just rambling but i need to express how much i love sixcago

like at least half of this is just me being gay so i bolded some of the things that i found really interesting and isnt just me like, freaking out

so to start off: holy shit. the energy of the entire show was amazing, it was really funny and fun and the acting/dancing/singing was on point like i cant think of a single complaint on the part of any of them.

so to get into the actual show

ex wives

when the curtain came up and the smoke started pouring out i actually felt my soul leave my body it was such a good moment

less than thirty seconds in brittney mack made eye contact with me and i swear to god my heart stopped and i honestly had trouble focusing on the rest of the song

i am not exaggerating that is the whole truth and nothing but the truth

shes............. literally so good im still shaking as i write this like three hours later

the third repetition of the rhyme where they all sound kinda pissed off? they nailed that

adrianna was so cute when she said “you wont try that again”

andrea holy shit. thats really a wrap on that

abby got that like, kinda head in the clouds thing that i feel like is janes Brand during this part

when he saw my portrait he was like JaaAAaaa

i love brittney mack

courtney knew what she was doing with that prick line. get it girl

anna has the most angelic voice i swear to god

the six of them work really well together on stage???? like i know its all choreo and stuff but you could Feel the energy that they had together it was good

oh man the choreo for the end. im so gay

intro thingy:

adrianna with that riff!!!!! we stan

annas face after “herstory” was iconic. she knew what she had done wrong

you couldnt hear the intro for maggie bc people were cheering so loud

the way adrianna says maria made me gay

abby also knows what she had to say. she knows how cursed janes sense of humor is and she was really playing it up

protestent............ protestant

“we’ll tell you what you want what you really really want” this made me laugh so hard i dont rly remember the next like thirty seconds because i was dying

“the biggest.... the firmest......... the fullest..............” im. i cant

no way

“maria” AGAIN adrianna please. please i cant handle it

“OH muy bien aHHah” not to be Lesbian On Main but fuck this was so cute

her emotion during the monologue was SO funny

it was peak, it was so good

she really gets it. i dont totally know what it is but this aragon monologue gets it

when she said “really trying” she did like, a motion. i cant go into more detail but Fuck

so after “move me into a convent” everyone like, gathered around aragon and adrianna did a

well idk what youd call it but a like

her entire torso swung around in a huge circle right before “i dont think i’d look that good in a wimple”

and idk what it was but that part just made me Lose It

adrianna had this way of making it all a little funnier?

like catherine is usually pretty Serious, i think but it felt like adrianna knew she was playing a character who was Like That, if you will, and was kinda leaning into breaking the fourth wall a little

i can probably elaborate if that doesnt make sense

you say its a pity cos quoting leviticus ill end up kiddiless all my life

she said that with such conviction goddamn

oh, he doesnt remember

this was so good

the “sh-”s were really funny

the fucking. i dont know what it is but the *ting*

holy shit

i cant put into words

how much i loved that part

the pause after “i’ll go” was............ expansive

i just checked it was 10 whole seconds

that doesnt sound long but it felt like forever

she went high on “end of my life” and thank u for mine adrianna hicks

the amount of no’s was impressive and im heart eyes for it

adrianna just had really good stage presence

like i caught myself looking at her during the dance breaks of all the songs when i wasnt looking at brittney

it was just so fun to watch her go!

dluh

during the intro of like “yeah, you know, the really important one” andrea was doing some Dumb Shit in the background

like i dont know exactly what it was but she was just like

idk like noodling around in the back

and i caught her eye and she like, smiled a little

the gasps the rest of them did were....... cute

then andrea busted out a full on fucking witches cackle

then she stuck her tongue out and looked like she was taking a selfie and it was so cute

like, her tongue was OUT

“not my thing” had the BIGGEST uwu energy of anything ive ever heard

i thought people were kidding when they said andrea boleyn had uwu energy

they were not

pret a manger barely came across as a real line it was more like, an experience

the sorry not sorry choreo. its so funny and cute and simultaneously cursed

the way andrea delivered her lines here was just

it was like, cutesy and fun but also kind of cursed

uwu

when she said “are you blind” andrea like, gestured to herself, in a like “look how hot i am” kinda way

which might be the standard? either way it made me laugh a lot

don’t be bitter/cos im fitter was the only line in the entire production said with a british accent and it fucking slayed me on sight one hit ko

i actually like that they changed “mate, what was i meant to do” to “wait, what was i meant to do” because

it implies that anne had no other train of thought than the one she was on and thats very funny to me

i think it fits w andreas portrayal too

everyone was like, fake crying when anne fake walked down the aisle and it was really funny imo

and as soon as she got to the end anne like, turned, yk?

bro just shut up

the entire audience gasped after that

andrea had actual like, panic on her face

then she led into “i guess he just really liked my head”

and there was a beat after that, where everyone laughed

it was long enough that everyone got the joke

then she mimed the blow job

her riff on “hell”? iconic

“wait, didnt you actually die” no jane she was beheaded but she was fine

abby seymour said dumbass rights she has the Dumbest Bitch energy god

“catherine of aragon had tragically died” catch adrianna looking like, yeah it was so sad for me, how terrible, right?

then boleyn goes off

the. fury, passion, anger, zest, contained in andreas “MASSIVE-”

“over my dead body” andrea gave her this look like, youre damn right it will be

heart of stone

oof

okay so the monologue

oof

“i was lucky. okay, i was really lucky” o o f

“edwina” is still cursed tho

i dont know what it was about this. i dont know if it was abby, or the dialogue, or just it being live but

this made it clear that jane had been Through It

like, this monologue came across (to me at least) as unquestionably a “woman who was abused trying to justify it to herself” kind of situation

“and that’s not because i was scared,” she said, wearing an absolutely terrified expression

this is where she started tearing up i think

okay i gotta take a moment here because

abby was fully crying before the song even started

like somewhere about halfway through her monologue she started tearing up

i was looking for it specifically

i wrote this before the last part so see above

so by the first fucking like of hos you could hear her voice breaking

holy shit ms meuller what the fuck

im not kidding who gave her the right

at the stagedoor she said that after this she was like, “well thats it for my makeup” when someone complimented her song

she is crying. the first chorus and she is actively crying. in the breaks between her lyrics you can hear her crying

abby went high on a couple of notes in here

she riffed on “truthfully” and it was, wow

she didnt go for the whistle tones which was, honestly? the most relatable thing in this entire show

but a couple of the other notes she went high on and they were so killer

there was a second or two of pause after the end where everyone just, absorbed things before the applause

i have some questions for abby about this actually because i dont know if its just because the monologue was different than im used to but

i just want to know if abby meant to have everything come off like That but god

the mental gymnastics jane is doing here are so intense

this performance genuinely changed how i listen to hos forever

i dont think i can ever peacefully listen to this song again

this song gave me so many layered emotions thank u abby mueller

haus of holbein

hans................................. *holbein*

the chaos

i honestly barely remember most of it it was

i had no idea who to be looking at

but i remember it being beautiful

i dont have the words to express how

fucking funny it was

the accents were hilarious

like they werent great german accents, but that made it far better

they were leaning into the ridiculousness of it all

the way abby said “but we cannot guarantee that you’ll still walk at forty” had me on the ground

ive spent the last 24 hrs trying to figure out exactly why it was so funny and i think i got it

she dropped the german accent

and she straight up sounded like she was reading off the side effects of a pharmaceutical ad on tv

the freeze frame? legendary

anna and courtney (im pretty sure?) managed to look so genuinely offended that henry swiped left on them

your highness your highness your highness

god adrianna please

actually every h sound that came out of their mouths

but adrianna Got It

get down

oh god i gotta talk about “didnt live up to his expectations”

brittney like, half took off her jacket and gestured to her body and like, body rolled a bit and honestly? i was fucking dead

the sarcasm really jumped out here. brittney went off in the best way possible

she was fully fake sobbing right before “tragic”

fucking legend

brING me some pheasant!

the woof line is always a good moment but their facial expressions really made it work here

this song has the most outwardly complex choreo (ofc i cant speak to its actual difficulty) and every single one of them crushed it

brittney made eye contact w me again on “looking cute” and im deceased

oh god after “take my fur” she whispered “thank you. honestly” and gestured to herself again and like, i was dying

iirc brittney was like, skipping across the stage or something on “i look more rad” and snapped into position for “lutheranism”

we gotta take a moment to appreciate the operatic talent of that one “get down you dirty rascal” instead of the slo mo

like, ofc the slo mo is a good moment but

brittney went full opera and it was,

wow

shes got a voice on her holy shit

so much talent in such a tiny body

aCHYEAH

she picked the person sitting next to me to dance w her and

they did their cute little dance thing and then brittney gestured like, go sit down, and the person did, then stood back up and started dancing again

not like, in a bad way i dont think

it was super fuckin funny and after the song brittney was like “oh that was cute you think youre funny”

but i heard them talking at the stagedoor and like, brittney was chill it wasnt like a violation of anything

im not explaining it very well but it was really funny in person

everything about her on stage was just, so enrapturing

i dont have too many specific notes about this song because it would probably turn into just, me being gay, which is enough of this already

anyway! get down was good brittney mack is a stellar cleves

her fake crying is next level tho

the confrontation

boleyn, unprompted: i lost my head!

the beheaded cousins high fived after “nice neck” and like, stuck out their necks a bit it was so funny

seymours “i died”

we all know abby is gonna kill her line delivery

but GOD

and then after, she like, realized what she had said and struck a pose like, shit please still think im regal

the line itself was actually pretty, uhhhh, sad

theres something about boleyn roasting khoward in andreas voice

courtney with that “and your songs” had perfect timing

also “when will justice be SERVED” had such good punch to it

after she did that she like

rubbed her hand on janes face

and abby looked SO offended

theres something so, sincere about courtneys delivery of her roasts that i hadnt been getting and its SO much funnier to me

i forget exactly where but at some point boleyn aragon and howard were arguing

and in the background it really looked like seymour and cleves were having a normal conversation and i lost it like. they were just chattin

there were a couple moments of like, cleves and seymour interacting and it was interesting

aywd

courtney! mack! took! no! prisoners!

jesus christ

okay so i dont know if other howards do this or if it was just because i was seeing it live and up close and that made the difference but

for me the most compelling part of this howard was the fear

like yes there was the sadness/anger/etc like there was good emotion but

from the “he says we have a connection” re: henry, and then on, everything about courtneys body language just screamed that she was afraid

idk i might expand on this in a separate post because its a darker topic but yeah. holy shit that was emotional

not a single person clapped after the last line. they all waited until after “yeah, and then i was beheaded” before clapping

like the theater was dead silent. DEAD silent

it was like, so haunting because it was just courtney on stage at that point, with just the white spotlight on her, it was a Moment

im not sure i have the heart right now to get too deep into this

if it would be particularly interesting to anyone feel free to ask, im happy to get more into it but idk its just Emotional

actually this is already so long ima go for it

so on each “we have a connection” it was uhhhh parr and aragon (i think) who each put a hand on like, her clavicle

and for the first two verses she grabbed one of the hands and was like, flirty? ig

but on the one about henry seymour also put a hand around her waist and she like

she freaked out

and listening back to the audio i can

unpopular opinion perhaps but the actual emotion of her on stage didnt come thru in the audio

because it was so physical

like you could see how scared she was

which made it more relateable to me honestly

like she looked so so scared

it was heartbreaking

the confrontation part ii

oh BOOH OO MISTERESSES

“okay catherine, babes” is CUTE fight me

anna looked like, progressively more concerned as that beat went on, and then she just kinda like, deflated? it was really funny tbh

idk her parr feels Different than the parr im used to

during “oh im catherine parr i draw the line in arbitrary places” courtney was playing with her hair it was hashtag cute

BACKING VOCALS RIP CATHY PARR

idnyl

a cute little b flat major 7

yeah anna parr seems

hmm

she seems like she’s just, over henry

like from the start she just has no time for him

idk im Conceptualizing

anna uzele is

her voice is next level

she put survived in the “got married to the king became the one who survived” in air quotes which i think is an interesting note

anna got really physically into the “remember that...” bit of it and everyone in the back was also having a good time with it it was Good

andrea. she stuck her pointer finger between two of her other fingers on her other hand for the “my sixth finger” line and it was SO funny

khoward keeping aragon in line was

not the hot take i was expecting but nevertheless the one we deserved

both for “dissolution of the monasteries” and “well actually”

idk it was a cute character moment

one of *unsure, disgusted, vaguely annoyed* siiiIIIiix

abby was right in front of me and she looked SO uncomf

yeah, i read

iconique

andrea like, threw her head back for this line

the pause after “theres not much we can do about it now” is

painfully long and so so so funny

i was only really looking at brittney but she was like, arms down head up no body language it was SO funny

also her “yeah?” ended my life

she raised the mic up to her mouth while not moving an inch of the rest of her body

the part where they get all meta. has me dead

it was about halfway through this second part that i realized cleves had her coat back. i dont know when that happened. if anyone else knows when exactly anna of cleves gets her coat back after it gets taken off in get down please tell me. i genuinely want to know

this actually distracted me

i got vibes that they genuinely hated henry during this part

first off, mood

secondly, good

annas riffing. god.

she is so talented

dsfjksdf they all straight up left

six

the opening moment is really sweet and kinda funny

abby again killing it with janes cursed lines

courtney howard is actually so cute

when shes not being heartbreakingly sad that is

like her “bye!” was so cute

theyre all so supportive of each other its very cute

megasix

adrianna and abby both looked into my camera and like, i died

at the end anna and brittney were doing some dumb shit as they walked off stage and it was SO cute

after the show

i went to the stagedoor and it was a really fun experience! ive never done that before

it seemed like everyone was being pretty respectful and stuff, thank u six fans for being sane

i got four signatures on my program dklfjsldfjds

abby was such a sweetheart, we actually talked a tiny bit

i told her i loved her line delivery (because uhhhhhh i do) and she said that she tries to get in that comedic timing when she has Those Lines and like yeah

she was seriously the nicest

the ladies in waiting came out as well and everyone cheered for them and lets be real they DESERVE it

lemme sidebar here actually and talk about the ladies in waiting because

they killed it

bessie on the bass was living her best life at literally all times

brittney was also super sweet! i told her she had good energy (because uhhhhhh she does) and she was very nice about it!!!

i didnt really talk to anna or andrea but i got their signatures!

also speaking of my program im still losing my mind over “remembered for: headlessness” and “remembered for: staying alive”

thank u sixcago program

in conclusion! this was such a great+special experience!!! all of the actors were incredible, it was so wonderful

im also not claiming any of this stuff was unique to this performance or to sixcago in general this was just the stuff i noticed as i was watching it. if you clown on this post ill end u

#six the musical #sixcago #**#i typed up no way dluh idnyl and the after show part in a daze as soon as i got back #i got more of it filled in later and then i kinda lost steam #and im filling in the last bit almost a day later so yeah thats why some of its Like That #i ran out of energy for six/megasix but im not sure when ill get the energy so #and also this is Long as Fuck #and i have even more thoughts re: the cast and their portrayals #esp vs the west end cast portrayals

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james-bucky-barnackle · 6 years

Text

Two Night Stand (Part 6)

Synopsis: (AU) You found yourself at a club drinking away to forget about the stress of your shitty job as the assistant of the biggest Editor in New York, you end up hooking up with the man of your dreams only to wake up to a nightmare when you find out he’s the son of your boss.

PART 5 | 2NS Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4,075

A/N: I still have trouble with my wifi so I’m posting this part early!!!

Monday, the first level of hell. And I’m not an idiot to be late, despite getting home at 12 AM. I woke up at six and put effort into applying concealer on my Walmart eyebags. I wore a white loose halter top which I’ve tucked in my beige high waisted skirt and put a gray blazer on top. I twirled my hair into a bun, securing it with a pen which I’ll pull off when I get to the building. As much as I’d love to look nice on the streets, these curls are not gonna take the pollution. I fill Pogo’s bowl and rub his belly, leaving a chew toy next to him, Bruce will be here later to pick him up. I grab my bag and I walk out of the apartment. Wanda’s already left for work, she teaches at one of the private pre-schools, and I can’t trace one single wrinkle on her face. I guess working with kids is easier than working for Winnie. I start walking and go into my boss’ most favored cafés—my order already out front. I make my way to the counter and give the barista a wink, handing him a few dollar bills. The woman in line frowns at me, sorry honey but until you’re not Winnie, you’ll have to wait in line. I’m in an awfully good mood today, considering that it’s another day at the office, but there’s no use in being a fuzzball, I’m not in the building yet. I pull one of the cups from the tray and take a sip, mmm coffee is like my heroin. I used to get a regular latte but ever since I’ve started working for the View, I invested a little more coin into it and started ordering Winnie’s too. It’s amazing, I have no idea what they put in this, but it’s an investment I’m willing to continue cashing myself to. I put it immediately back just before I bump into a cyclist, I hear an audible apology and I immediately forgive him, just as long as no one ruins my clothes, you are all forgiven.

I’m half an hour early when I arrive at the building, which is neat. I get to warm up, because yes working for the view is sort of like training for a sport, with very fast economic risks, the risk of me not getting to pay my rent this month if I don’t get myself right. When the lift arrives at my floor, half of the employees are already there, per usual. I walk to my desk and put my things down. Okay, where’s Maria’s cubicle? I need that article before Winnie arrives. I walk gingerly amongst the sea of busy people procrastinating anything they can get their hands on. What are these people doing all day? I get to her table and it’s empty. Even when I’m thirty minutes early, this desk isn’t supposed to be empty. I pull my phone out and text her where she is.

[Home] I wiggle my eyebrows, what? I have no time for this, I hit call on her number.

“What do you mean you’re home? Are you sick?”

“Home, as in I’m at home.” She replies deadpan, as if it’s normal to be at this time of day. “I’m not sick.” What the hell is going on?

“Then why aren’t you here? Where’s the article Winnie asked you to write?” I’m itching, I’m starting to get very annoyed, I try lowering my voice when people start to glance my way.

“I haven’t written it,” holy. Shit. WHAT? A dramatic pause ensues before a loud cry breaks through my phone. “HE BROKE UP WITH ME Y/N. He. Broke. Up. With. Me.” What’s this have to do with me? “And he told me I wasn’t like anybody else, but he hasn’t been calling me in a week, so I went to his apartment then- aaaah!!!” I hear her sneeze on the other end of the line. That’s her excuse? I could get hit by a truck and I’d for sure still show up at the front desk.

“Okay,” I say like I’m trying to ease a five-year-old child. “can’t you write anything? Anything! Is there anything old on your computer I could give to Winnie?”

“And he had the audacity to tell me it wasn’t me! It was him!” Okay, she is not hearing me out. I start panicking myself, and I drop the call. What the hell am I gonna do? Maria’s gonna get me fired. I doubt Winnie’s gonna let me slide on this one. The weather guy could mess up and give her the wrong information on TV and she’d still find a way to put the blame on me. I dash to my desk almost tripping and hitting the hot coffee sitting graciously on top of it. Not today, mister.

I open a new document and then google on the side. I have no idea what to do, but I’m for sure not letting Winnie come into the office with an empty desk. I’m going to write this article and putting Maria’s name on it, even if it’s the shittiest article ever written. She’s already risked her job not coming in today, could I really make things worse? Milan fashion week, Milan – fashion – week, Milan… Nothing is coming to my head. How am I supposed to know how describe anything? I attended the event sure, but mostly I was just trying to keep my snarky remarks to myself, sitting behind Winnie on the front row of the runway. I can’t think of anything, apart from my feeling queasy when I saw Thor walking the runway looking all fresh and snazzy. I made him, I gave him that career. Focus! I start googling for photos taken by the View’s photographers and I type furiously. I’ve got twenty more minutes; I haven’t written anything in so long. Isn’t this supposed to come naturally? Like riding a bike? It doesn’t go away? All my brain contents are Winnie’s schedule and coffee orders, come on! I spent big bucks on college, work for me, brain! While I’m questioning my own competence, my phone notifies me of a text, “Good morning, doll.” As much as I’d love to respond and giggle to myself, I need to focus. I flip it face down, and face the monitor. How does Maria even talk in her articles? I haven’t read anything she’s written, screw it!

Everyone who’s asking me anything about other things unrelated to my boss and this article has been shooed away and given the hand, by my hunched over self. At this rate, the computer should be releasing smoke.

Most people don’t even have the least bit knowledge on the things they wear, others know more about the brand more than they know themselves. Fashion has turned worlds reeling into first glances, wear the wrong shade of pink and you’re out. |

I continue typing Maria’s article not even knowing which direction it’s heading. Oh god, is this even an article? It sounds, so—stupid, that’s the word. Best case scenario, Winnie reads this and thinks it’s a draft and Maria will be here tomorrow to rewrite an entirely new one; worst case scenario, she burns this paper and Maria will be unemployed, which I never thought I’d not mind until she’s made me incredibly haggard looking like Quasimodo in front of my computer instead of the Esmeralda I longed to be when I came out of the apartment.

Milan’s fashion week gives us a peek of not just the trends you think will be rocked by the young and wealthy of this generation, but of how pattern, shape and form is a huge mark of character when wanting your presence known in the world. Your clothes are your brand, it’s their job to make them look and your voice to make them listen.

Okay cheeseball, we’re printing you. I click the icon and it’s started inking the paper. I want to puke at how cheesy that last paragraph is, but come to think of it, the entire article was destined to be a failure the moment I’ve started writing it. It’s obvious that an ignorant on cashmere wrote it. I hear the printer stop buzzing and I pull it out the tray, raising it up and twirling in my office chair. I did it, or should I say, Maria did it. We did it! And I’ve got three more minutes to go. I pull the pen off my hair, and salvage what’s left of my curls. This looks… decent. I pat my forehead with a napkin, that article was a workout.

The floor grows silent, and there’s only one explanation for that. I stand up, reach for her cup and stand by the door. It’s the perfect temperature, bordering on still hot and are you sure this is still hot? Just the way she likes it. I see her, walking on the aisle and everyone looking and walking elsewhere, not wanting to be in the same lane as her, you don’t want to be in the same lane as her. She’s got her shades and her fur white coat on, and those gorgeous red heels. Her gray hair miraculously curled, framing her face, and even with all that beauty, you know beyond those dark lenses that she’s an evil woman. You can’t have everything, I guess. She gets to the door and I open for her, show time.

“Good morning, I have Maria’s article here and your coffee.” I run behind her and she opens her palm, I gently place the cup. She pauses and bring her shades down her nose to look at the Louis Vuitton handbag sitting where it’s always been, clean and perfectly, seemingly untouched. I see her grin, yes Winnie, no one’s going to jail today. “You have a meeting in 2 hours, and then Clint asked if you could check the creative department this afternoon to review the clothes for the editorial.” I place the paper on her desk, she removes her shades and looks at it. She glances at me from her chair, and my eyes grow wide.

“Right, yes I’m leaving.” I run to the doors and flop on my chair spinning it in a direction where she’s on my peripheral vision. I pretend to type something, please don’t fire me. Please don’t fire me. Please don’t fire me. I repeat it in my head like a mantra.

“What are you typing?” I jump in my chair, it’s Sam. “AHwufuef hswuqodb udnidnl---”

“What are you doing here?”

“Is that a new language? The new Morse code?” I bite my cheek, and spin my chair in his direction. I need this chair in my house. I raise my eyebrow and cross my arms. “Nothing, I work here too you know? Why shouldn’t I be on this floor?” he says as a matter of fact. I shrug and spin back to the angle I was gazing at Winnie on.

“Is that a letter from the president?” he says pointing through the glass partition.

“What? No.” I wrinkle my nose.

“That’s odd, she’s still reading.” Holy shit what does that mean? Is that good or bad? Every time any of the writers would submit an article I don’t give enough care to look at Winnie reading, but I’m pretty sure she reads them, I mean that’s her job. And my mornings consist of putting things on her desk and leaving, I don’t know what she does in there.

“Your point is?”

“I’ve been here for more than a year, she doesn’t read articles that long. She reads the first paragraph and the last sentence, then puts it down.” Holy crap, I might’ve just written the worst article known to mankind and she can’t take her eyes off it in disgust. She’s probably getting sore eyes from reading my words. Think positive, maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe she likes it? I move my head forward and stare at her, her eyes squinting on the paper. It’s disgust. Holy shit, sorry Maria, you’ve killed your career the moment you didn’t go to work, that was me trying to salvage whatever brownie points you had.

“D’you write it?” Sam’s voice scares me off again. I shake my head violently. “If you say so.” He crouches down and whispers in my ear before laughing and spinning my chair in the direction of my computer. I’ve been pretending to type on the same document I’ve written the article in. I blow air into my cheeks, great James Bond-ing Y/N. I exit the document and open my phone, oh shoot, Bucky! I text him back “Good morning to you too.”

A few seconds later, my phone buzzes, he sent me a photo of him in his office with his eyes closed and his tongue out, with the caption “meeting later, I’m sleepy.”

I look up my desk and when no one’s looking I snap a quick selfie of my fingers looking like they’re holding Sam who’s standing far enough just to look like a toy. I think of a funny caption and hit send. “Maybe I can send Sam in to proxy you.”

He replies with another photo of him, his eyes staring into the camera, giving me puppy dog eyes. He looks so cute, I’m literally pouting. His brown hair looking luscious, oh how I’d love to run my hands through his hair. “Can you send yourself instead?”

I flush, I reply with three laugh emojis, not really knowing what to reply. I gotta play hard to get sometimes, what happened to miss workaholic and focused? Bucky Barnes has quite a way with me alright. “I guess I was shipped to the wrong Barnes,” I type in, sneakily taking a photo of me mid shrug with Winnie in the background.

“Ugh! Damn delivery service, always getting my address wrong!” I giggle. Before I could type in another reply, I hear my phone ring. Right, I’ve almost forgotten I’m at work.

“Hi! This is Y/N from the View how may I help you?”

“I’d like to talk to Winifred Barnes,”

“Who’s calling?”

“Sandra Wang,” I gasp, the Sandra Wang? I skim through Winifred’s list of people I am not to connect the phone to… and she’s on it.

“I’m sorry, but she’s currently unavailable. You’re going to have to set an appointment for a formal meeting.” I scramble across my desk in search for my planner, “she’s free on-“

“No need, I’m already in the building.” My jaw drops, what did she just say? Did I hear that right?

“I’m afraid, I’m going to have to-“ she hangs up on me. I dial her number on the telephone, and of course she’s not going to take it. Oh, no. I start biting my nail, flustered. Surprise visits? For Winnie? That’s a very hard no. And it’s Sandra Wang, one of the designers lined up for the fashion ball, her coming here uninvited doesn’t sound like good news to me.

I call Sam real quick, who’s flirting with one of the girls in the office, waving my hands frantically and begging him to hurry up. He arrives at my desk and I tell him what’s happening, or should I say, what’s about to happen. And he’s now biting his nails too. The two of us start pacing around my table, we look like the Hardy boys.

What does she have to say that can’t be over the phone? Is she pulling her collection off the ball? Is she dying? Somehow, in some twisted way, Sandra, dying sounded better that having to look for another designer to replace her slot at the ball. Winnie’s influence is overwhelming. The sole reason why we’re both panicking over what other people might think is ridiculously so little of an issue is because 1) as I’ve mentioned multiple times, uninvited guests are unwelcome, count family off the list. 2) Winnie hates her daily routine rearranged, anything that disrupts the schedule. Anything that happens wrong on a Monday, reflects through Friday, and I’m not about to have a target on my ass. The last time this happened, she fired 14 people in the floor. One of them were fired just because Winnie heard her breathe too loud when they were in a meeting. By golly I was scared, it was just my first month on the job, and that’s when I knew I was in deep.

“Did she say where in the building?” Sam asked, momentarily taking a break from his nail biting.

“No?!”

“I’ll stall Sandra, tell her she’s not in the office, and you block Winnie, ask her to do something else or tell her to pee!” Sam whispers, his hands doing wild gestures.

“Ask her to pee?!”

“You know what I mean!” we both run on opposite directions. He pulls out his phone and calls someone. I enter Winnie’s office not even knowing what to do.

“There you are, submit this for proof reading, I want it printed on this month’s issue.” Winifred tells me the moment I enter then hands me the article I just wrote. Holy cow! I can’t believe this is happening, what?! I bite my lips trying to hide the ginormous smile my lips can’t seem to shy away from. Maria owes me big time.

“You got it!” she whips her head, raising her eyebrows at me. Whoops, too much enthusiasm. “Uh- yes of course…”

“What are you still doing in my office?” Oh right, Sandra Wang! What could I say that’ll make her leave the office? I can’t think of anything, anything that’s plausible. A tarantula got in your desk! Or fire drill! I mentally smack my head, fire drill my ass. I know! I’ll tell her Bucky’s outside, I’m sure he’ll back me up, right? Then I can just tell her he suddenly got called for work. Okay that sounded pretty stupid, but it’s better than the first two things I’ve thought of… I think.

“Uhm, there’s someone in the building—”

“Bucky is the perfect cover for Dolores,” hold up what? I walk a little to the back as two women walk into the office with Sam outside the glass walls giving me an apologetic shrug that spells “y-i-k-e-s”, to which I replied a look that spells “r-e-a-l-l-y-?-!”. I guess 14 people on the building might need to start packing now, or more. The woman who’s just spoken looks like she’s in her mid-forties, black hair pushed back, and snaking straight on her back. She has olive skin and small almond eyes, a sharp black liner on her lash line, I bet it could kill. A red head was behind her, she has legs that can go for days, she has beautiful freckles on her cheeks, and her teeth gapped in the middle. She looked like a cover girl.

“Sandra, nice to see you too.” Winnie replies, but gives me a killer look, I give her one of my signature apologetic smiles. And I’m glad she doesn’t reply with my unemployment.

“The girl in the orange camisole, the mystery girl- I have her right here.” Sandra pulls Dolores from her back. I don’t know if I should leave, but I for sure don’t want to and so I figured to leave when Winnie asks me to. Until then I’m getting front row on this devious plan. The girl in the orange camisole? I’m sorry Sandra, but that’s not her, I would know.

“I didn’t think you for being color blind, Sandra, but I’ve seen the photos. The girl caught snogging my son had ____ hair.” My eyes grow wide, she has seen the photos! I shake my head, of course she has, Y/N. But it’s been two days, and I’m still pouncing in this office. She didn’t recognize me? I don’t know if her not acknowledging anything is a good thing.

“As if you haven’t been involved in rumors, Winnie. We could say she dyed her hair.” Sandra smiles, wickedly. What is going on? Who is this Dolores anyway? And what’s this cover for? “This is buzz! This could give my niece her spotlight back,” spot light? I try to recall where I’ve seen her face, but nothing comes to mind. “and Bucky and Dolores have been linked in the past before, it would be the topic of the century.”

“If I wanted to make a rumor to be the topic of the century, I would’ve asked my assistant to pretend to be the woman in the photo. Don’t you think that would be more scandalous?” I choke, an audible one, which makes the three of them look at me. I laugh, hysterically and when no one joins me, I shut the hell up. I smile, funny Winnie. Funny, funny, Winnie. I start fanning myself with the article I’ve written.

“What have you to lose Winnie? In my side of things, I think it’s a fair trade. A good one too.” She puts her hands on Winnie’s glass table. She hates that, she really hates it when people touch her desk. “All your son needs to do is take Dolores as his date to the ball, they’ll wear my designs… Unless you want me to pull my collection out your ball.”

“You do know it’s more of a loss for you than it is a loss for me, right?” I want to laugh because it’s true. Every designer longs for the exposure on that ball, no matter how old or big your brand is, a slot at the View’s ball is to die for. But still, its half a bluff, since we wouldn’t be able to replace Sandra under a week’s notice. And the press will be all over us, which is something Winnie is not a fan of when things are still being prepared. “But fine, if this is your way of getting your niece a date.” WHAT?

Sandra looks insulted, but she still managed a smirk to spite her colleague. She removes one of her leather gloves and offers it to Winnie to shake. I already know what’s going on my boss’ face, she hates handshakes, if there’s a bill on it she’d be the first to sign it. She waits until Sandra gets impatient, and she doesn’t, so Winnie sighs and shakes it anyway. And right after she does, Sandra flashes her million-dollar smile and leaves the room, but not before looking me up and down. And I can say the same for Dolores, who’s made it a point to look at me during Sandra and Winnie’s conversation the way they both looked at each other. Like we’re their mini-mes and I cringe, but not as much as I’d cringe if I was Sandra’s mini me.

“How desperate.” Winnie scoffed as soon as the two have made their exit. I pull a small bottle of alcohol out of my blazer’s left pocket and spray some on Winnie’s already waiting hand. She gestures on the place where her two unexpected visitors have just stood and I spray that as well.

“Next time you let anyone here without an appointment, you’re fired, Y/L/N. I don’t care if you can write a good article, I don’t want unnecessary people taking up oxygen in my office.” Fear rushes through my body, how did she know? I didn’t even realize she’d given me a compliment.

“But I didn’t- It was Maria—"

“Maria already called in sick today,” that bitch. She didn’t even get me a heads up. I worked my ass off for that paper, and here she is calling in sick? I worked my ass for nothing. Well, maybe not nothing. Did Winnie just say I write good stuff?! My inner goddess is beaming, my lips start to curl up. I can’t wait to tell Wanda.

She then turns to me, waving a finger, “Get back to work, and call Dolce and Gabbana, tell them to cancel James’ fitting. Guess we’re settling with Sandra Wang.” I spoke too soon.

I’m dumbfounded, so many things have happened under one conversation and I haven’t processed a single thing. What the hell just happened? Not a second later, I feel my phone vibrate. Nat just texted me a photo of the dress I’m wearing to the fashion ball. Great, I can’t wait.

PART 7

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