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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years

Note

Hi! I was the person before with earth shattering excitement that you write for Wade and I was wondering if you could write something with a gender neutral partner who has Tourette’s? If not it’s okay! But I have Tourette’s and it’s honestly exhausting. I get a lot of (deeply unwanted) attention because of it so it’s made me mildly agoraphobic and when I am out, I get really anxious, which in turn, triggers my tics more but there was one occasion that I had gone out with a group of friends (two of which I didn’t know very well and one that I had never met before that day- like a friend of a friend kind of thing) but when we walked into a shopping center, it hit me, and without even skipping a beat, the one I’d never met prior, just went ‘FUCK’ back at me and it was honestly so funny because it caught me off guard but because I tend to get a couple of stares, anytime it happened, he’d go out of his way to one up whatever my tic was, which most of them aren’t even swearing (a couple of times, it did triggered it more and one of the things he said has become a long term tic that still occurs) but for the most part, I was too amused to worry about other people and it was a fun outing with minimal anxiety but I was wondering if you could write something similar like that with Wade? But maybe he can tell when it’s getting too much for his s.o because I can’t speak for everyone with Tourette’s but it causes me a fair amount of pain and is just overall draining not just physically but mentally and emotionally too. I know the way that I put it at first made it sound silly, like it’s all fun and games, but it’s not in the slightest. So, maybe it could be something similar, but when Reader starts getting overwhelmed/their muscles start spasming (mine tends to manifest mostly in my neck) Wade completely shifts gears and is really gentle with them. He just holds them and talks them through it and maybe gives them his hoodie as like a sensory comfort thing until it passes and he helps them into a bath. I understand that this isn’t the kind of thing you usually write, so no pressure but it would mean a lot to see such a personal representation with my comfort character. Your writing is stellar by the way, you’re absolutely amazing!

Thank you so much for trusting me with this request, love 💜 I hope you enjoy it!

Centre of Attention || Wade Wilson

Wade Wilson x tourettes!gn!reader

Warnings: Where to begin...18+ only, nsfw, swearing, canon-typical Deadpool nonsense & violence, injuries (reader & Wade), mentions of blood, fluff WC: 2k

You opened the fridge door and just managed to miss hitting with your forehead as your neck jerked, tossing your head forwards. Your stomach growled once again and you looked for something to eat but what little food there was looked completely unappealing so you closed it a little harder than you meant to, the jam jars rattling as the glass clinked. With a sigh, you pulled out your phone and called Wade, hoping he wasn’t too busy to answer the phone.

“Yello,” he answered happily, “what can I do you for?”

“Free, if you bring me home some food.” You replied before your tongue suctioned to the roof of your mouth and made a loud pop.

“God I love it when you use your tongue like that.” He groaned before shouting. “No, no, not the schlong!”

You heard a gunshot ring out, almost deafening you through the phone and Wade’s pained cry sounded more like he was in mourning than hurt. Your phone almost fell from your hand as your fingers bent to the shape of a gun and you mimicked the shots fired. “You alright there, baby? Bang! Bang!”

“Please hold the line, daddy’s gotta make somebody pay.” He whispered before Angel of the Morning started playing and you put the phone on speaker to listen while you waited for him to take you off hold.

It had just built up to the chorus and you were singing your heart out when the music died and Wade returned. “Goddammit.”

“Lose the…tip again?” You asked with a whistle between your words.

“The tip?” He gasped. “I’m six inches short of a sub sandwich and I have a gaping glory hole that needs to be sewn.”

Wade seemed to lose his dick more than any other body part but thankfully it didn’t take too long to regrow. Still, it had to hurt. You weren’t going to offer to sew his costume again, not after the last time when your arm muscles had spasmed and you pricked yourself with the needle.

“Are you going to be long? I’m, your daddy now, hungry.” You said as your head jerked and you felt the muscles beginning to ache at the repetitive tic.

“You could meet me at Sister Margaret's.” Wade suggested as he plugged the hole where his cock used to be, stemming the bleeding as he left the mangled remains of a cartel behind him. “And could you bring a change of clothes? Mei Mei’s red panda has nothing on this bad boy.”

You didn’t really want to go to Weasel’s bar because the wayward mercenaries usually left you with a few new tics, and some tended to last longer than others, but you found yourself agreeing when your stomach rumbled yet again. “Fine, but no blowjobs tonight.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He lied. “Oh, Dopinder just got here - I’ll see you soon.“

“See you soon.” You could hear the car door shutting as he climbed into the taxi and your hand slapped your chest leaving a burning mark in the shape of your hand. “I love you.”

“I love you more than a finger in my ass.”

“That’s a lot of love.” You laughed before ending the call and making your way to Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Children.

Wade had beaten you there my seconds as you saw Dopinder’s taxi pulling away from the curb and you gave him a wave, but not without first raising your fist with your middle finger up. Your tics were already increasing just by being close to the chaotic atmosphere of the bar and the moment you opened the door your head jerks strained your neck muscles. The entire bar turned as you stepped inside, and raised their glasses with a shout of curses - bets laid to guess which would be the first out of your mouth.

Your elbow flew back, smashing into the brick wall behind you, and your eyes blinked uncontrollably with the pain radiating up your arm. You were overwhelmed with their attempts to trigger you and Wade noticed that you weren’t finding it amusing like you had on previous occasions. He slammed his glass down on the bartop with a shout for everyone to shut up and the raucous fizzled out, your palm slapping the already tender skin of your chest once again and a whistle piercing the air.

“Sorry, motherfucker cocksucker.” You apologised as you made your way through the crowd towards Wade as he came to meet you halfway.

“Don’t apologise to these sore losers.” Wade said, before pointing to the wager board that showed he won the bet with your first curse.

“What’s with the fanny pack?” You frowned as you looked at the pouch he wore low on his hips, your nose wrinkling in rapid succession until you felt like you needed to sneeze.

“What, this old thing?” He asked as he unclipped it and you saw the half healed wound that used to be his manhood. “Dee thinks it suits me.”

“Lord Little Dick.” You shouted before clipping the pack back in place. “Jesus, that’s bad. Are you sure it was a gun?”

“Believe me.” He nodded. “I saw that puppy up close and extremely personal.”

You took a seat at the bar where Wade had been sitting while he went and changed into the clothes you bought for him, Weasel making polite small talk while trying to diffuse the outcrops of fighting that arose sporadically. Your boyfriend arrived back just in time to see a steaming pile of something resembling nachos placed in front of you.

“Well that looks worse than I do.” He cringed as he picked up a corn chip that was saggy with a brown sauce of undetermined origins. “I can already taste the Hep B.”

You pushed the bowl away and Wade caught it before your hand shot out again to toss it all over the bench. He could see you weren’t your usual self and he sat down, pulling you between his legs so he could wrap his arms around you and keep your arms tight to your side. You started to relax in his tight embrace, his strength able to keep your sudden muscle tics from hurting yourself even more and you looked up at him with a grateful smile. His own smile grew until your head jerked forward, the crunch of his nose breaking under the force of your forehead, and he groaned as he tipped his head back.

“How come they get to have all the fun?” Patch complained as he pointed to you. “I want to break his nose.”

“Fuck off, Patch.” You growled as you grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped the blood running over Wade’s lips. “Bitch ass pussy.”

Your neck twisted painfully, again and again, before Wade forgot about his already healing nose and caught you. “It’s a bit much in here tonight, let's just pick up something on the way home.”

He pulled his hoodie up over his head before draping his arm over your shoulder and leading you out to the quieter streets not far from where you lived. You laughed as he started beatboxing, watching the few people who had been staring at you as you whistled and popped your lips turn their attention to his horrible sounds. He grinned as he heard your laugh, the bystanders already a distant memory thanks to him and his distractions.

“No one gets to outshine Wade-wikiwiki-Wilson.” He boasted as he pretended to scratch a vinyl until he spotted the local pizza joint still open. “Not even you. Pizza?”

You were almost at the point where you would eat anything, except Weasel’s nacho’s, but there was a crowd of drunk people filling the pizza parlour and you dreaded stepping inside. Wade felt his hand get tugged as he found you weren’t following and turned to see your wide eyes riddled with anxiety. It was a small space and you knew you would not hold in your tics long enough to have your order cooked, you knew you would once again be the centre of attention.

Dropping your hand, Wade pulled his hoodie over his head and bared his scarred face to the world. “Put this on, hun, I got you.”

You knew he didn’t like how he looked just like he knew how wearing his hoodie calmed you, this was his killing two birds with one stone - you were calm and they had something more intriguing to stare at. There were a few side glances when you ticked but most of their attention was firmly fixed on Wade as he ordered a Ham and Pineapple pizza for himself before ordering your usual.

You were exhausted as you stepped over the threshold and back into your own safe space, Wade following with the food and a bag of Epsom Salts from the 7/11 on the corner. You helped yourself to the pizza as you dropped onto the couch and listened to Wade singing to himself in the bathroom. You were starting to wonder what he was doing until he popped out and ate half of his pizza in under 60 seconds before darting back into the room.

Your neck was sore but your stomach was full and you were happy that at least one problem had been solved by leaving the house. You curled yourself deeper into Wade’s hoodie, tugging the strings so only a small ring of vision could be seen and his scent enveloped you. It was only when you saw his knees come into that peephole that you looked up, gasping at the sight of his ¾ sized penis regrowing before skipping straight to his face.

“Up, up.” He said as he pulled you to your feet, his hands already reaching for the hoodie and lifting it up your body. “You did so well coming out tonight but now it’s time for you to relax, have a nice hot bath, then daddy’s gonna massage you alllllll over.”

He left your clothes scattered all the way to the bathroom before climbing into the steaming water and promptly jumping back out. “Yup, that’s boiling. Ow, ow, should have checked that first.”

You couldn’t help laughing at his silliness as you ran the cold tap and checked the temperature, the floor getting wet as you splashed the surface at Wade. “Shit, sorry.”

“Stop apologising.” He soothed as he began to massage the tight muscles at the top of your back until you were moaning as he relieved the tension. “You’re so tight.”

“Stop it.” You chuckled as he moaned in your ear and whispered innuendo’s. “Bath’s ready.”

He kissed your neck softly before taking a seat in the hot water, spreading his legs so you could fill the space between. The water was perfect and you could smell the Epsom Salt in the steam, hoping it would absorb into your muscles and ease the remaining tension from them. Wade pulled you back against his chest and cradled your arm, seeing the blossoming bruise on your elbow, and he held it through the tics that twitched along it.

You looked over your shoulder as you felt the throes reaching your spine. “Can you hold me, please?”

He answered with a nod and a kiss to your forehead as he wrapped his arms over yours and around your waist, his legs around yours, the comfort like your own perfect swaddle. “Course I can, hun, anything you need.”

#wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader #gn!reader #wade wilson imagine #deadpool imagine #deadpool fanfiction #tourettes!reader

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takuyakistall · 4 years

Text

tuna | anniversary special

Synopsis: A normal day in Yuu's new life in NRC but, somehow, today made them feel a little bit nostalgic.

Notes: I wanted to write something for Twisted Wonderland's anniversary! This game really means so much to me and I don't think I would've picked up writing again if I didn't stumble upon it. Something about Grim and Yuu's relationship makes me emotional and the fact that Grim got a new card in the game didn't help me cope at all. I ended up writing this fic as a result, this is just purely fluff! (I think) I hope you guys like this.

The smell of charred coal and an oily can of tuna greeted Yuu's nostrils as they stirred awake, grumbling incoherent words as their eyes adjusted to the sudden sunlight entering their room through the window. It was almost peaceful.

Almost.

Had it not been for Grim feasting on his tuna noisily and messily. Yuu sighed as they stood up from their bed and began to arrange it—folding the sheets, dusting the pillows and set them aside neatly. The creaking of the floorboards with each step they took used to unnerve them, afraid that it might give in one day but Yuu learned to get used to it. Though sometimes they can't help but worry for the day when it actually gives in. Maybe they could ask Headmaster Crowley before that happens?

Yuu shook their head and dismissed the thought. The last thing they wanted to hear was Crowley spouting nonsense all over again and then disappearing without a trace. Judging from all the times Crowley has let them down, who's to say that he won't do it again? They pulled out the wooden chair placed by the table and scrunched their face when they saw how Grim was eating.

"You're making a mess everywhere!" Yuu scolded, trying to snatch the tuna can from his hands (paws?) before he could knock the other stuff down on the table. Grim didn't bother refuting as he sat back lazily on the chair, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Mhm... That was delicious~!" Grim let out a merry sigh. The breakfast he'd been used to everyday wasn't something he would look forward to or enjoy. Living in an abandoned dorm meant that no one else was there to cook for them but theirselves and there was no way Yuu was letting the ghosts handle the cooking. As a result, most of their meals were either bland or too little in terms of portions—Crowley wasn't one to ensure these types of things so that's one more thing Yuu adds to the list of 'Why I don't like the Headmaster'.

So when Grim found a can of tuna lying around somewhere, he didn't waste a second to grab the golden opportunity in front of him. Though there was one tiny little problem with what Grim did.

Yuu got that for their breakfast today.

Together.

And much to their misfortune and Grim's doom, the can was empty. Yuu had to pause for a moment to process the sudden discovery—Grim ate all of the tuna. They had to clench their fist tightly so as to not grab the ribbon tied around Grim's neck and shake him like a pepper shaker. Grim was blissfully unaware of the way Yuu was giving him glares that could kill and continued to relish himself in his euphoria. Though that was short-lived when Yuu decided to open their mouth, gentle anger lacing their voice.

"Grim. Did you eat all of the tuna?" They crossed their arms across their chest, a perfect close eyed smile on their face as they tilted their head slightly when they questioned Grim. He froze for a moment, eyes widening and his lips slightly twitching as Yuu furrowed their eyebrows. Clearly, they saw how the sudden realization hit the raccoon-cat (or whatever he was) and how nervous he became. He needs to think of an excuse—fast.

"A-Ah! About this…" Grim started, throwing his paws around in the air, making out incomprehensible gestures. Though before they could hear his explanation, an important thought crossed over Yuu's mind and they felt their blood run cold.

"Hey… Grim. What time is it?" They didn't wait for a reply, feet already scrambling towards their closet as they vigorously looked for a clean uniform. Grim held a confused expression.

"Eh, time? Isn't it…"

"Grim you idiot! We're bloody late!"

"F'nya!! Why didn't ya tell me sooner!?"

"Oh so now it's my fault? You're the one who didn't wake me up!"

"Professor Trein is going to be so mad…"

"Just shut up and start walking!"

Both of them dashed out from Ramshackle, the doorknob at the entrance getting slightly jammed so Yuu had no choice but to break the rickety door down. Not that it was difficult though, burglars could've easily killed them during their sleep—that is, if people even manage to climb a whole mountain to bother stealing from them. They'll just have to explain the door incident to Headmaster Crowley as well later. That is, if they manage to talk to him at all.

But, for now, the only thing stuck in their heads was to run as fast as they can or else it was off with their heads!

“You’re late.” Their teacher, Professor Mozus Trein, spoke in a cold tone. Gingerly stroking his cat’s head as it purred but that didn't give Yuu and Grim any ease at all when they stood there, unmoving, at the classroom entrance. Yuu tried to keep a neutral expression, hands at their side and feet together. Grim, on the other hand, wasn’t doing so well with doing the same as Yuu. He had trouble standing straight on two legs so he decided to climb up Yuu’s back to their shoulder and stayed there.

The sudden shift in weight on one of their shoulders made them grimace slightly.

“Good morning, Professor. Please excuse my tardiness, it won’t happen again.” Yuu bowed slightly, hoping that this would all be over quickly and he would let them go to their respective chairs. They straightened their back, looking at Trein directly before he gave them a slight nod and returning his attention to the chalkboard in front.

Yuu and Grim let out a sigh of relief simultaneously as they quickly went to their respective seats with Grim hopping off Yuu’s shoulder. He grabbed a bunch of books from Yuu’s bag to stack them up. Sitting on it since he wasn’t tall enough to see on his own without the desk obstructing his view.

Yuu caught the sight of Ace trying hard to keep in his laughter in the corner of their eye. They wondered for a moment about what Ace could possibly be laughing about until they heard Grim snarl ever so slightly. As if a lightbulb suddenly popped up over Yuu’s head, it suddenly clicked all too well.

He was laughing at them.

Although Yuu didn’t particularly mind being laughed at by that clown, Ace Trappola, Grim didn’t share the same sentiment. They had to hold back Grim’s tail to stop him from throwing a fit during class—it was a good thing Professor Trein had his back turned or else they’d be in bigger trouble.

A few minutes into class and Yuu could already feel their head explode. Coming from a completely different world than Twisted Wonderland, there was no doubt that they were going to have difficulty understanding things from here. While History of Magic was indeed an interesting subject, Yuu couldn’t help but feel the need to pull their hair out when they saw what Professor Trein was writing on the board.

‘Those symbols… am I supposed to know them? This looks more like a summoning circle more than anything, how am I supposed to understand this?’

They slapped their forehead repeatedly and forced theirselves to stare at the board once more—hoping that staring at it for a while would miraculously make them understand whatever that is. Grim, on the other hand, looked like he was boding well—looking so studious and listening attentively. But the moment he picked up a pen, that’s when the image was ruined. Yuu had to stifle their laughter when they saw him struggle to write on paper.

While it was a bit mean to laugh at him, Yuu couldn’t deny the fact that the drastic change was hilarious.

“Yuu, is there something you’d like to share with the class?” Professor Trein suddenly called out their name. Their back straightened and their gaze immediately snapped to the teacher in front. It seems like the Professor was paying more attention to Yuu.

Someone in the classroom let out a snort. Small, but audible for it to be heard by everyone in the dead silent classroom.

“Ace Trappola, do you have something to say as well?”

Ace stood up almost immediately.

“N-Nothing, Professor!”

Yuu was a tiny bit glad that Ace slipped up. At least they won’t be alone when Professor Trein decides to punish them. They shot a mischievous look at Ace, sticking their tongue out that screams: Serves you right!

“Dismissed.” With one single word from Trein, the class burst into a series of relieved sighs and yawns—a few ones groaning here and there but they were eventually glared at by the Professor and his poofy cat. Ace sluggishly walked towards Yuu and Grim with Deuce, who looked as fresh as ever, following behind.

“Hey, did you get everything Professor Trein said? Today’s class was sooo boring.” Ace whined, crossing his arms over his chest as he asked his three friends.

“Nope.” Yuu answered truthfully as they put back their pen into their case.

“Not at all…” Deuce closed his eyes and clutched his forehead.

“Hmph! Of course I did, I even took down notes.” Grim was proud as he puffed out his chest. Ace’s eyes perked up for a moment, wondering if he would let him view his notes until a sudden realization struck him. He wouldn’t be able to decipher Grim’s terrible handwriting in the first place. His expression slowly turned into one of disappointment—something akin to the feeling of finding out your name wasn’t in the Top 50.

Deuce was the first to comment. “These are….. Notes?”

“Grr! What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“It looks like a bunch of scribbles made by a cat.” Yuu added. Grim was about to be fuming mad until his ears drooped down slightly, Yuu felt a pang hit their chest. Could they possibly be feeling bad?

“Well… I’ll give you an A for effort.” Yuu patted Grim’s head, hoping that they didn’t hurt his feelings too much after that comment. Instead of lifting his spirits up, Grim felt like his soul got crushed. He felt like Yuu pitied him more than actual commendation, but he won’t say anything. He’ll take the crumbs of praise he can get.

Ace straightened up and walked towards the exit, dragging his legs slightly as he called out his friends. “Oi! Let’s go have lunch already, I’m starving!”

“Coming!” Deuce replied before promptly poking Yuu’s shoulder to make sure that they heard Ace.

“Alright, alright. Give me a minute to fix all my stuff, you guys can go ahead.” Grim stared at Yuu, wondering who should he go with—Yuu or Ace and Deuce? He was going to accompany the Heartslabyul Duo until he remembered how Yuu didn’t get to eat breakfast because of him.

He felt a little bit bad for leaving them like this.

He opened his mouth to say that he’s going to stay with Yuu until they suddenly cut into his thoughts like a knife into butter.

“Grim, you can go ahead too. Save a seat for me while you’re at it.”

“Are ya sure?” Grim asked them for reassurance.

“...? Are you going to miss me or something?” Yuu teased.

“No way! Nevermind, I’m leaving!”

Yuu watched as the Ace, Deuce, and Grim exited the door before letting their smile drop into a frown. They wondered if today was an okay date to ask the Headmaster about progress on the whole ‘find Yuu a way back home’ thing. But, there was a possibility that their visit to his office will be all for naught. Crowley was someone unpredictable, after all—eccentric is another way to put it nicely.

They tapped their fingers against the desk rhythmically. Dozens of thoughts running inside their head. The chatter outside the classroom cutting their train of thoughts continuously which annoyed them to death but it was something they took comfort in. The nostalgic noises of a bustling school filled with students going on and about.

It reminded them of their homeworld.

Yuu decided to look for Crowley as they stood up from their chair. A nostalgic bitterness lingering in their mouth as they left.

“Why did I think I would find him today?” Yuu asked no one in particular. Eyes glued to the wall clock as they counted the minutes they had left before break ended and classes started again. They silently dwelled on their regret of visiting Crowley’s office, it was nothing but a waste of time. Now they had less than 30 minutes to go into the cafeteria to get some food.

Each step they took was taxing. They put too much force with every one and perhaps that was a result of getting mad at a useless bird—their temper can’t help but explode a little bit. By the time Yuu arrived, they spotted the idiot trio sitting by the window. They had already finished eating long ago but they were still there. A thought popped into their head.

‘Could it be…? They were waiting for me!?’ Yuu knew it was nowhere near the truth but perhaps they can indulge theirself once in a while with these kinds of thoughts. Grim was the first to spot them.

“Where were you!? Break is almost over.” The grumble Yuu’s stomach let out made their cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Maybe it was because they skipped breakfast? Grim felt bad. This was his fault, wasn't it? Ace and Deuce urged Yuu to go buy something to eat but one look at the line formed by the counter, Yuu immediately declined. They’re going to be late for class if they waited!

Grim stared at the small portion of lunch he set aside for himself for later. Much to no one’s surprise, it was fish. He had a debate with himself—asking if he wanted to keep this or offer it to Yuu. In the end, he went for the latter. He nudged Yuu with his paw before holding up the plate with his two paws.

“Have this if you want… Ya didn’t get to eat breakfast because of me, right? I feel kinda bad but here.”

Ace’s eyes were wide in shock and Deuce dropped his yogurt. Yuu was flabbergasted at the sudden nice gesture Grim was showing but-

“Sorry, but I don’t want rabies.”

Grim had to resist the urge to set everything on fire. Yuu had to bite back a laugh when they saw how mad Grim was—denying everything about him having rabies. The troubles they had about Crowley were long gone and replaced by the bubbling happiness growing in their chest. The sight of their friends—Grim, Ace and Deuce—was enough to convince them to forget about it. Even if it’s just for a short while.

The nostalgic taste danced in the tip of their tongue once again. A sudden wave of sadness washing over them as they thought about the day when they’ll eventually go back to their own world.

I’ll miss this. Definitely.

They looked up to see Grim causing a mess with Ace holding him back and Deuce trying to summon another cauldron. Yuu shook their head.

But, for now, let’s focus on the present.

Is it so bad that Yuu wanted the incompetent headmaster to stay incompetent? Just for a little longer, don’t find a way back.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst writing #fanfic #self indulgent takoyaki #twisted wonderland grim #twst grim #ace trappola #deuce spade #twst ace #twst deuce #twisted wonderland ace #twisted wonderland deuce

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calamitykaty · 4 years

Text

A Twist of Fate

Charlie x Fem! Reader

Word count:7670

Warnings: Slight Swearing, I think that’s it?

Requested: Sorta? It’s a multi writer topic by @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic revolving around the idea of y/n finding an ad to rent a date for Thanksgiving. *You can find the first writers fic HERE

A/N: HUGE thank you to @dream-a-little-bigger-x for reading every rough draft of this that I sent her, along with bouncing ideas with me! Also a huge thank you to @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic for supporting me when I got stuck and reading my super rough draft!

I wasn’t gonna post this until tomorrow but now I have a Christmas Reggie fic that I want to post tomorrow so...Happy Reading.

Y/N wrapped the buffalo plaid scarf around her neck and pulled her favorite slouchy red beanie over her thick mop of curls. Her cellphone was pressed between her right shoulder and ear as she buttoned up her navy peacoat and half-listened to her mom rattle off the preparations she needed to make for Thanksgiving.

“Mom, I really need to…” Y/N attempted to interject only to be cut off by her mother. She placed the phone on speaker and set it down on the counter while she slipped her feet into a pair of black boots. She had stopped listening to her mother’s droning voice nearly a half-hour beforehand, but her ears perked up when her mother asked the dreaded question.

“Are you bringing Noah this year honey? I know you guys like to alternate holidays with his family, but your Aunt Martha is going to make it this year and she is just tickled to finally get to meet him.”

Y/N pursed her lips and ran a hand over her face, she hadn’t told anyone that Noah broke things off with her two months prior. She hadn’t meant to keep it a secret for so long, but her mom loved Noah and she just knew she would blame her for ruining a good thing. She had been dating Noah for three years and it was perfect until Noah started talking about marriage and Y/N began to realize that she couldn’t picture her entire life with him. Noah felt like a moment in time to her, not an eternity.

“I’ll have to check, Mom, I don’t know what Noah is doing yet.” Y/N settled on a half-truth to buy herself some time. She placed her elbows on the edge of the counter and rested her head in her hands.

“Honey, I need to know by the end of the week, okay?”

She could hear the irritation in her mother's voice at the non-answer that Y/N had given to her. Her mother was a meticulous planner and she could not stand curve balls making a mess of her perfect holiday plans. Her mother treated every holiday as if the editors of Better Homes & Gardens were going to drop in at any moment and do a two-page spread on her decor and perfect meal.

“Got it, mom! I have to go!” Y/N quickly ended the phone call and shoved her phone into her pocket. She huffed out a heavy sigh and made her way to her front door, grabbing her keys from the catch-all bowl on the table next to the door. She quickly locked up her apartment and rushed down the two flights of stairs to the small community lobby. She adjusted the scarf around her neck and reached for the door but stopped as a new flyer on the community board caught her eye. She took a step back and ripped the paper from the thumbtack that held it to the cork board and shoved it into her coat pocket before pulling the door open.

Her hair whipped around her face as she stepped outside and was met with the cool autumn breeze that had settled in over the last month. Y/N looked both ways before stepping off of the sidewalk and hurrying across the street where her best friend, Leigha, was already waiting for her inside the small corner cafe.

“How is it that I have to drive from the other side of town and can make it on time but you literally live across the street and can’t?” Leigha teased as Y/N unraveled her scarf and took her coat off, draping both over the back of her chair before sitting down.

“Sorry! Sorry! My mother…” Y/N rolled her eyes as she recalled the phone call.

“Enough said!” Leigha laughed, she had one of those laughs that turned heads. Her laugh was always a little too loud and sometimes she would snort, it always caused Y/N to break into a fit of giggles. Leigha had been Y/N’s roommate all the way through college and they had been inseparable since the very first day they had met.

“So,” Leigha crossed her arms on top of the table,” did you work up the courage to tell her about Noah?”

Y/N shifted her gaze across the cafe and bit her lip “not exactly…”

“You are unbelievable, y/n ” Leigha sighed, exasperated.

Y/N snapped her eyes back to Leigha and held her hands up in defense “I tried! Well...I mean…I tried to try…”

“You know if you show up stag and your mother already has a place setting for a plus one, you might as well just go ahead and bury yourself, honestly” Leigha tutted.

“That’s why I have a plan!” Y/N turned around and rustled through the pockets of her peacoat before placing the crumpled flyer on the table. She smoothed her hands over the paper and pushed it towards the middle of the table.

Leigha snatched the paper up as the waitress came over and took their orders, Leigha ordered a blueberry scone with a chai tea while Y/N ordered a croissant with a side of strawberry preserves and a coffee.

“I mean…” Leigha read over the paper before sliding it back over to Y/N, “you’ve got nothing to lose.”

Y/N bit her lip and stared down at the flyer, re-reading it for the fourth time before she pulled out her phone and scanned the QR code to bring up the app.

“I can’t believe I am actually this desperate to try to literally purchase a date a week before Thanksgiving.” She muttered as she began to fill out her profile.

“Wait! Thanksgiving is next week? As in a week from today? I haven’t even made my Thanksgiving Pinterest board yet!” Leigha panicked and grabbed her face.

Y/N looked up from her phone and shook her head at Leigha’s antics “why do you need a Pinterest board? You literally do the same thing every single year.”

“Yeah…” Leigha jutted her bottom lip out in a pout, “but I want people to think that I am making all of these intricate and super cute appetizers and stuff. It’s the illusion that I care about!”

Y/N looked up and thanked the waitress as she set the food and coffee down in front of her before turning her attention back to Leigha who was eagerly biting into her scone.

“Help me answer these?” She passed her phone over to the girl and picked up the knife, spreading the strawberry preserves onto her croissant.

“Beach or Mountains?” Leigha readout with her mouth half full.

“Mountains!” Both girls yelled out at the same time and burst into giggles. They continued down the row of questions, passing the phone back and forth until Y/N finally hit the submit button. Leigha practically yanked the phone from Y/N’s hand as the algorithm began to shoot out potential matches. Her thumb scrolled through the pictures at lighting speed before she stopped and slowly scrolled back up before thrusting the phone in Y/N’s face.

“This one! Oh my god, this one! And if you don’t select the platinum package so that boy can say he loves you then I will literally never speak to you again!”

Y/N wiped the jam from her chin and grabbed the phone from Leigha. He was cute, there was no doubt about that but unlike Leigha, she cared about what his profile said about him. She scrolled through his pictures, one of him playing guitar, one hiking, one surrounded by friends around a campfire. Lover of nature, endless adventure, campfire songs, and sharing the love with my friends. I’ll jump if you jump, let’s take this plunge together?

She felt her lips curl up into a soft smile as she whispered his name to herself, liking the way that it rolled so easily off of her tongue.

“I told yooouuuu!” Leigha sang out and crossed her arms over her chest, a smug look on her face.

Y/N placed the phone on the table and tried to control the blush that she could fill rising to her cheeks, “calm down,” she rolled her eyes, “I’m paying for a Thanksgiving date, not falling in love.” She selected the platinum option and typed in her credit card number before clicking the purchase open without a second hesitation.

“I better be your maid of honor!” Leigha teased as the two girls dropped the appropriate amount of money onto the table and began to layer their coats and scarves back on. Y/N pulled the girl into a hug and placed a kiss on her cheek before heading back across the street towards her apartment.

She had just placed the keys back into her catch-all bowl by the door when her phone began to ding. She felt her heart begin to race as she saw the approval message on her screen that Charlie had accepted her request to rent him as her Thanksgiving date.

“Oh my god...okay...okay, this is fine...everything is fine.” She muttered to herself as she received another notification that Charlie had messaged her. She set her phone down on the counter and peeled her coat and scarf off before slipping her feet out of her boots. She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans and grabbed her phone, refusing to look at it until she had settled in on her couch. She crossed her feet under her and pulled a throw pillow to her chest before finally sliding up on the notification and reading the message that he sent.

Let's get to know each other? Lunch tomorrow?

Y/N hesitated for a moment before her fingertips began to slide across the keyboard on her screen.

Sounds good! How do you feel about chicken & waffles? I know a place!

She read over what she had sent several times, worried that she sounded too eager. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she waited for his response, watching as several dots appeared and disappeared several times on her screen before he finally sent his response.

A girl after my own heart! How is 12:30? Send me the address?

She felt her cheeks grow warm at his response and mentally reminded herself that he was just being kind and that she was quite literally paying for him.

500 Rue Kennedy Dieppe, NB. and 12:30 is perfect! I’ll see you then!

Y/N took a deep breath and closed the app before her thumb hovered over her mother’s contact. She quickly clicked on her number and quietly whispered to herself “please don’t answer, please don’t answer, please don’t answer.”

“Thank god!” she exclaimed as the phone sent her to voicemail. She rolled her eyes at her mother’s elaborate message before finally being told to leave her message at the sound of the beep.

“Hi, mom...it’s me...I just wanted to let you know that you will need to make sure to set an extra place setting for thanksgiving. Love you.” She rattled off, keeping the message vague but to the point.

The following day Y/N stood inside of her closet staring at her assortment of clothes trying to decide what said “I'm cool and definitely not desperate even though I paid for a date for Thanksgiving because my family is insane.”

She pulled a mustard yellow cable knit sweater from a hanger and laid it out on her bed before heading back to her closet. Her fingers sorted through the variety of skirts before settling on a silky, pleated navy skirt that was cinched at the waist. She laid the skirt out next to the sweater before moving over to her vanity.

She sat on the poof chair and stared at her reflection for a brief moment before pulling the small drawer to the left open and lining up her primers, eye palette, eyeliner, mascara, and her signature red lipstick. She grabbed the mason jar that sat on the right tableside of the vanity and grabbed the appropriate brushes, lining those up as well.

She used her middle finger of her right hand to gently swipe the eyeshadow primer onto her eyelids before dusting the brush across a shimmery gold eyeshadow. She used a maroon eyeshadow on her crease and slowly blended the colors until she achieved a golden and subtle smokey eye.Y/N shook her hands out to steady her nerves before slowly pulling the liquid eyeliner across her eyelids and flicking it softly at the end for a subtle cat-eye before she carefully built volume on her eyelashes with the mascara. Finally, she grabbed the matte red lipstick and carefully swiped it across her lips before blotting them with a tissue.

Y/N jumped at the sound of her phone vibrating on her nightstand. She moved across the room and grabbed the phone from the charger.

See you soon!

She felt the nerves settle back into her stomach and wiped her clammy hands on her pajama pants before quickly undressing. She pulled the yellow cable knit sweater over her head, careful not to let it touch her face. She followed that by pulling on the pleated navy skirt, the fabric falling just above her knee. She pulled on the fabric of the sweater at her waist so that it slightly hung over the waistband of the skirt before she slipped her feet into a pair of black pointed flats. She took one last look at herself in the mirror and pulled her curls over her shoulders before grabbing her purse and slinging it across her body.

Y/N entered the bustling restaurant and let her eyes wander across the tables trying to find Charlie. She wrung her hands together and pulled her lips into a thin line when she didn’t see him, her heart dropping at the thought that she had been stood up or even worse, that she had really fallen for a scam. She turned on her left foot and reached for the door, barely pulling it open before she felt a hand on her shoulder. She let go of the door, resulting in a soft thud as it closed.

“Y/N? You weren’t about to bail on me were you?” The soft voice teased as she turned around.

“I thought you had stood me up, actually.” She could feel the blush that dusted across her cheeks at the accusation. Her left hand fell to her right wrist, her fingers loosely wrapping around it as she looked up at Charlie through her eyelashes and offered an apologetic smile.

Charlie’s green eyes crinkled at the edges and his nose scrunched up as he laughed “take the money and run, I wish I would have thought of that!”

“Oh..” Y/N looked back at the door and then back towards Charlie, “if you don’t want to do this, it’s fi--”

Charlie smiled softly at her “I was just teasing, I didn’t want to sit at the table by myself in case you didn’t show and have to do the walk of shame, so I was at the bar.”

Charlie placed his right hand on the small of her back and guided her to a table in the middle of the bustling restaurant. He pulled her chair out for her before taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. Y/N tucked her hair behind her ears and glanced at the menu, though she already knew what she was going to order. The waiter, a young kid, probably seventeen stopped by their table and quickly took their order.

Y/N finally looked up to find Charlie staring at her, his face cradled in his hands with his elbows propped up on the table.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just trying to figure out why a very beautiful girl would need to rent a date for a Holiday.”

Y/N felt herself blush at his compliment and shrugged her left shoulder “I got dumped.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry”

She smiled and waved him off “It’s no big deal, we wanted different things out of life. He wanted marriage and I,” she hesitated, she hadn’t talked about this with anyone other than Leigha.

“You what?”

“I want adventure and I know that sounds silly. Like, of course, you can have adventure and marriage but Noah,” she paused, “that’s my ex.”

Charlie nodded and gestured for her to continue, “Noah works in the financial district and he wanted marriage and kids and stability….and I barely know what I want to eat for breakfast let alone what I want for eternity.”

“You’re a free spirit, nothing wrong with that!” Charlie interjected and Y/N felt her first genuine smile of the night spread across her face.

“You get it.”

“I do get it.”

Y/N thanked the waiter as he sat down two beers along with their orders of chicken and waffles, before turning back to Charlie.

“So, tell me about your family. What should I prepare myself for?” Charlie lifted the pint glass to his lips and took a sip of the amber-colored beer.

‘Well,” Y/N blew air into her cheeks and sighed, “my mother thinks she’s Martha Stewart. So be sure to compliment the decor as soon as you see her. You’ll win her over for sure...and maybe don’t mention the whole free spirit thing or you will definitely end up on her list of terrible suitors that I have brought home.”

“Noted.” Charlie nodded before adding, “and your dad?”

“My dad is easy going, just talk about beer and hockey and you'll be fine.”

Charlie threw his head back in laughter and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the way his whole face lit up when he laughed. She felt a flutter in her stomach as Charlie leaned forward so that his forearms rested on the table and his fingers lightly brushed across hers before he pulled back. Y/n pulled her hands off of the table and dropped them into her lap, her fingers lightly traced over the silky fabric of her skirt.

“Is everything okay?”

Y/N inhaled a sharp breath and rolled her bottom lip into her mouth before exhaling, “yeah, but I should probably tell you something,” she looked up at Charlie through her eyelashes.

“Well, c’mon then..” Charlie teased after several seconds of silence.

“My folks don’t exactly know that Noah and I are….done...and I know there’s going to be a big event made of it when they find out.”

“Oof…” Charlie sighed and took a swig from his beer and a bite of his food.

Y/N felt her heart beating in her ears, “I understand if you, I mean if this is too much and you want to back out.”

Charlie looked at her with a playful smirk, “are you actually going to eat that or?” He pointed at her untouched plate of food with his fork.

“W-what?” Y/N looked down at her food and back up at Charlie before letting a smile slip onto her face. She didn’t understand how someone she had just met could put her nerves at ease without even trying.

Charlie let his fork clatter on his plate before leaning forward on his elbows. Y/N watched with furrowed brows as he grabbed the maple syrup and poured it in a circle over her chicken before he leaned back into his seat and met her eyes with a soft smile on his face.

Y/N picked up her fork and knife and cut into her maple drenched chicken before popping a small bite into her mouth, “are you happy now?” she teased Charlie before putting her fork back down.

Charlie tried to hold back the smile that threatened to take over his face as he nodded his head.

“So, what’s our story going to be? It’s gonna have to be a good one if I have to upstage Noah to win over your folks.”

The two spent the next hour concocting a believable, but very romantic story of how they met. They talked about their likes and dislikes, their quirks and habits, and all of the little things that couples are supposed to know about each other,

Y/N felt butterflies erupt in her stomach as Charlie walked her to her car, his left hand just barely brushing against hers. She mentally scolded herself for feeling jittery over a guy that was simply fulfilling his job, but she also couldn’t help but hope that maybe he was feeling their connection too.

“I’ll pick you up next Wednesday at 4 pm, yeah?” Charlie asked as they arrived at her car. Y/n tucked her hair behind her right ear and nodded.

She felt her breath hitch as Charlie leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek before walking backward and sending her a wave.

A week later and Y/N found herself pulling on a green sequined, long sleeve dress, the hem set just above her knees. It was her go-to holiday dress, classic but not too formal. She painted her face with gold eyeshadow, a sharp winged eyeliner, and her classic red lips. Her hair hung over her shoulders in cascading curls. She sat on her bed, fastening a pair of strappy black heels when her phone dinged. She fastened the buckles of her heels and grabbed her phone, a smile instantly sliding onto her face at Charlie letting her know he’d be at her place in five minutes.

She stood up and checked her appearance one final time before grabbing her gold clutch handbag and shoving her phone into it, just as Charlie knocked on her door. She quickly made her way to the front door and turned the lock before pulling the door open.

“Wow…” Charlie breathed out as she came into full view.

Y/N shyly smiled back at the boy, thankful that the blush she had on her cheeks already would mask the red glow that she could feel heating up her face.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she teased, her eyes trailing from his brown wing toed shoes up to his pristine white button-up and finally to his slightly coiffed hair.

“Shall we?” Charlie extended his arm out to Y/N after she locked her door. She looped her right arm through his left, her hand resting lightly on his forearm as they made their way through the corridor and outside to Charlie’s car.

He opened the passenger side door for her and waited for her to get situated before closing the door and running around to the other side of the car. Their forty-minute drive was mostly silent as Y/N worked to calm her nerves down. She knew that she was going to have a lot of explaining to do when she showed up with Charlie in place of Noah and she was trying to memorize all of the details that they had agreed on a week prior.

“Are you okay?” Charlie glanced over at her for a brief moment before returning his eyes to the road, his left hand took hold of the steering wheel as his right hand settled on her bare knee.

His hand was warm against her cold skin and Y/N wasn’t sure why but she found her left hand moving to settle on top of his hand. Without hesitation, Charlie flipped his hand over and let her palm fall into his before his fingers slid between hers and gently curled.

“Just nervous…”

Charlie lightly squeezed her hand before letting out a small chuckle “if I didn’t know any better, I would think that you’re the one about to meet my family.”

“Oh, I’m not nervous about them meeting you, they’ll love you,” Y/N clarified,” I’m nervous about the terrible things that I know my mother is going to say to me about ending things with Noah.”

Charlie licked his lips as he pulled into her parents’ driveway. He pulled his right hand free from hers and put the car in park before turning slightly in his seat to face her.

“You know that nothing she says is going to be true, right? You don’t have to live by someone else's timeline for your life.”

Y/N pushed down the warming feeling in her heart and nodded her head at his words.

“Yeah, I know...are you ready?”

Charlie smiled brightly at her and pulled the keys from the ignition before getting out of the car. He double-stepped around the car to the passenger door and pulled it open for her, waiting for her to get out before closing the door.

He slid his left palm into her right hand and tangled their fingers together before placing a soft kiss on her hairline and whispered “let’s put on a show.”

Y/N could feel the nervous energy erupting in her stomach as they stood outside of her childhood home. She took a deep breath before twisting the doorknob and pushing the red front door open. They were met with the warm heat of the home and the smell of cinnamon as soon as they stepped inside. Charlie let his eyes wander across the walls of the entryway, scanning the line of pictures before tugging Y/N over to one.

“This is you, yeah?” The question was rhetorical as it had been obvious that it was her in the picture. She stood on a cliffside, at the top of a mountain with a bright smile on her face, her childhood dog, Rex, beside her and the ocean behind her.

“Yeah, I was seventeen and went backpacking by myself for the first time. My mom was so mad. This family that was passing by was kind enough to capture the moment for me and my dad insisted that it be hung on the wall of accomplishments…” Y/N rambled off the story before letting her eyes move from the picture and up to Charlie.

Charlie smiled down at her and laughed, “this is gonna sound insane, but I think that was my family that stopped and took the picture.”

Y/N pulled her brows forward so that her forehead was pinched in the middle “shut up! No it wasn’t!” she finally exclaimed.

“Rex….the dog’s name was Rex. I remember because I thought you were pretty and I got flustered and I said something dumb about Rex from Toy Story.”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide as Charlie recounted the story and she felt her cheeks growing red at the revelation “well, this is a weird twist in fate--”

She was cut off by the sound of her dad’s deep voice bellowing her name as he turned the corner. Charlie pulled her into his side and let his right-hand rest on her hip, while her right hand rested on his chest.

“Well, this certainly isn’t Noah!” Her father exclaimed a large smile on his face and his eyes soft. He had never been the biggest fan of Noah’s to begin with.

Charlie dropped his hand from her waist and stepped forward with it stretched out towards her dad, “Charlie Gillespie, sir.” He was taken aback when her dad threw his head back in laughter and pulled him in for a full bear hug.

“Nice to meet you, son”

Y/N giggled at her dad’s antics, he had always been the type to do things like that. He was a stout man with laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. He had graying hair and a well-kept beard and he radiated kindness.

“And you, little missy, are going to have a lot of explaining to do to your mother.” Y/N pulled back from her dad's embrace and blew the air out of her cheeks.

“Yeah, I know…”

Her dad gently squeezed her arm and gave her a reassuring smile before leaving the two to grab a beer from the kitchen.

“Why do I have the overwhelming feeling to call your dad pops and ask him over to mine to watch hockey?” Charlie joked.

Y/N shrugged and tangled her fingers with his, “I told you he was the easy one. Are you ready for the rest?”

“Lead the way, beautiful.”

Y/N tugged on Charlie’s hand and he followed behind her as they made their way to the den where her brothers were corralled around and a card table, intense looks on each of their faces as they held their cards close to their bodies. Their wives were set on the opposite side of the room. Y/N could feel the three women’s eyes on her as she entered the room with Charlie and she knew their hushed whispers were aimed at her and the fact that Charlie was very much not Noah.

Her youngest brother, Josh, was the first of the three boys to look up and notice her. He dropped his cards on the table, face down, and scooted his chair back against the hardwood floors.

“Junebug!” He yelled as he practically launched himself towards her. Y/N exploded into a fit of giggles as her feet left the floor and he twirled her around in circles. Josh was three years younger than her, sitting at nineteen but she had always been the closest with him. Her giggles quieted down as he sat her back down and turned to Charlie.

“Well, you’re not Noah.” Josh quipped with a playful smirk on his face.

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck and laughed “I have a feeling I am going to be getting that a lot today.”

“You play poker?” Josh eyeballed him.

“I know my way around a deck of cards, yeah.” Charlie shrugged.

Josh turned to Y/N and lightly punched her shoulder, “looks like you got yourself an upgrade, Junebug!”

Y/N rolled her eyes at her brother and wished Charlie luck as he was pulled over to the table and introduced to her two older brothers, Samuel and Michael. She felt her shoulders relax for a moment as the table erupted with laughter from something Charlie had said. He looked up from his cards and shot her a wink before turning his attention back to the game at hand.

Y/N glanced back at Charlie one last time before making her way over to the prying eyes of Amy and Melissa, the wives of Samuel and Michael. The two women each held a mug of her mother’s homemade cider in their manicured hands.

“Who’s the cutie?” Amy was the first to speak, her left eyebrow raised as she asked the question.

Y/N looked over her shoulder for a moment with a smile before turning back around “Charlie…”

“Oh! Well, you’ve certainly never said Noah’s name like that before!” Melissa looked at Y/N with wide eyes.

Y/N shook her head at the two gossipy women “like what?’

Amy and Melissa both shot knowing looks to each other before Amy quipped, “sweetie, that boy’s name left your lips like honey falling from a spoon.”

“It did not!’

“You can deny it all you want, but we both heard it!” Melissa declared and brought her mug up to her lips, taking a sip of the warm cider.

“Looks like I’m out boys!” Y/N heard from the other side of the room. She glanced over her shoulder to find Charlie laying his cards down on the table before he slid out of his chair. She smiled at him as he made his way over to her. He stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist and tugged her back into his chest, his head resting on her shoulder.

“Charlie, these are my sister-in-laws, Amy, and Melissa.”

“Very nice to meet both of you.” Charlie beamed at the two women.

Melissa and Amy stood up at the sound of heels clicking against the tile floor of the kitchen. Melissa made her way around Y/N and she gently squeezed Charlies’s bicep, “good luck honey.”

Charlie pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek and tightened his arms around her waist as he felt her body tense in his arms.

“You’ve got this,” Charlie reassured before loosening his grip on her and letting her grab his hand.

Y/N sucked in a deep breath and gently pulled Charlie behind her as she navigated through the formal dining room and towards the kitchen where her mother was sure to be found.

She stopped just inside the doorway to the kitchen and turned to face Charlie, “you can still get out of this, ya know?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Charlie placed his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around, nudging her into the kitchen while he followed.

Y/N stood silently for a minute as she watched her mother pull the green bean casserole from the oven and wipe her hands across her floral apron. Her mother was a thin woman with auburn hair that was almost always pulled into a chignon.

“Mom? Can I talk to you?” Y/N hesitantly asked, suddenly feeling less like a twenty-two year old woman and more like a twelve-year old child.

“What do you want to talk about, dear? Because if it’s about Noah,” her mother grabbed a wooden spoon and stirred the brown gravy that was simmering on the stove, “then I frankly don’t have time to listen to your childish reasons for ending the only good thing you had.”

“You know?” Y/N choked out

Her mother grabbed the pepper grinder and began to twist the top over another pot of food, “I called Noah after we spoke last week since you couldn’t give me a straight answer when I called you.”

“Oh…” Y/N placed her hands on Charlie’s chest and gently pushed him backward. Her eyes pleading with him to give her a minute. She didn’t want him to bear witness to the reprimanding she knew was about to come. Charlie hesitantly left her side and waited on the other side of the door.

Her mother finally turned around to face Y/N. She placed her hands on the edge of the counter, her knuckles white from the tight grip.

“Honestly, y/n. I don’t know why you can’t get your life together. You graduated college just to throw away your education for this silly photography hobby of yours and now you threw away a perfectly acceptable relationship because you want to travel and have adventures? You’re not a child, anymore, y/n. When is this going to stop? When are you going to grow up?”

Y/N stood silently as the words washed over her. She could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and let out a shaky breath.

“I…”

“What? You what, Y/N? What explanation could you possibly have this time?” Her mother cut her off.

Charlie pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning on from the other side of the door and quickly made his way back into the kitchen. He felt her mother’s eyes on him as he quickly pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek, his hand sliding across the middle of her back before he put on his best smile and made his way over to her mother.

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Y/L/N. My mother would be insanely envious of the spread you’ve created, it’s magazine worthy!”

“Thank you, dear. You are much too kind! I am so sorry, but I don’t believe I caught your name?”

Y/N looked down at the floor and smiled to herself at the charm that Charlie exuded as he introduced himself to her mother and offered to help her bring the endless amounts of food to the formal dining room for her.

“I’ll go gather everyone.” Y/N shot an appreciative smile to Charlie before she made her way back to the den to gather the rest of the family into the dining room.

Y/N made her way over to the empty chair next to Charlie, the latter getting out of his own chair to pull her chair out for her before sitting back down. He placed his hand on the inside of her thigh and let his thumb rub circles on the top of her leg.

Her dad stood at the top of the table and carved the turkey while small talk was exchanged between her brothers and their wives and suddenly the question finally came from her mother.

“So, how did you two meet?”

Y/N glanced over at Charlie not sure if he was going to take the lead or not and was surprised when he started spitting out a story that was definitely not the one they had agreed on during their lunch meeting,

“I met your daughter several years ago on a hiking trip with my family,” Charlie paused and looked over at her before continuing, “my older brother, Patrick actually took that photo that you have on your wall in the entryway!”

Y/N’s heart was beating erratically as Charlie squeezed her knee before turning his focus back to her mother “your daughter took my breath away that day and I kicked myself for weeks for not getting her number and just having this missed connection. I guess you could call it a twist of fate, really, that I found her again.”

Y/N’s mother smiled at the two of them and Y/N felt her body tense for just a moment before relief rushed over her at her mother’s words “that may be the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life.”

“Can we eat now or?” Josh hesitantly asked as he grabbed the plate of yams and began piling a portion onto his plate.

Y/N felt at ease for the rest of the evening as their shared meal went off without a hitch. Her family shared embarrassing stories of her with Charlie and she sipped glasses of wine as he endlessly complimented her. Her heart felt full as the night drew to a close and her dad pulled out the last Thanksgiving tradition. The wishbone was passed around the table until it landed in her hands. She turned to Charlie and gestured for him to grab the other end of the bone. They both tugged on the bone with their eyes closed until it snapped.

Y/N opened her eyes and looked down at the fractured bone in her hand and then over to Charlie who was holding the larger side.

“Make a wish,” she whispered to him with a soft smile on her face. Charlie shook his head and kissed her forehead.

“I don’t have to, I’ve got everything I want right here.”

Y/N dropped her eyes to the table and reminded herself that as much as she felt the connection between her and Charlie, that he was just playing a role.

She looked up as the sound of chairs sliding against the floor filled the room. She followed suit and slowly stood up from her chair.

“Do you need help, mom?”

“You go ahead and head out honey, I know you have a long drive.”

Y/N made her rounds of goodbye to her family before looking back at Charlie and grabbing his hand. They silently walked to his car and he opened the car door for her. Y/N hummed along to the songs that played on the radio during the drive back to her place. She tried to ignore the heat that she felt in her stomach as Charlie’s thumb ran across her knuckles every now and then. She watched the cars that passed by them, red tail lights lighting up her face as they drove on the highway. Before she knew it they were parked outside of her apartment.

“I guess this is it then…” Charlie looked over at Y/N as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

“I guess so.” Y/N agreed, her right hand rested on the door handle as she looked at Charlie, her eyes searching for any indication that he didn’t want her to leave. She let her hand pull on the door handle when Charlie didn’t respond.

She swung the car door open and stepped out into the street before making her way to the sidewalk. She turned around at the sound of another car door shutting and was taken aback by Charlie running over to her side

“I should walk you to your door,” Charlie answered the silent question

Y/N smiled and led the way through the apartment corridor until they stood outside of her door, her keys dangling in her left hand. She looked up at Charlie and smiled, “you didn’t have to see me inside, ya know?”

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand and shrugged, “all part of the job.”

Y/N felt her smile falter and turned around to place the key into the lock of her apartment door. She quickly turned the key and opened the door before stepping inside. She turned to look at Charlie one last time, “well, thank you for giving me my money’s worth,” she let her eyes fall from his.

“Goodbye, Charlie.” She closed the door and dropped her keys into the catch-all bowl before kicking her heels off and making her way over to the couch. She let her body slump into the soft cushions and pulled her phone out to call the only person that was going to understand.

“Tell me everything!” Leigha demanded as soon as her face appeared on the phone.

‘Well,” Y/N sighed, “I think I accidentally started to fall in love with him.”

Leigha couldn’t stop the giddy laughter that erupted from her small frame “I knew this was going to happen! I so called this!”

Y/N rolled her eyes at her best friend and poked her bottom lip out in a pout “it’s not funny Lee...I’m never gonna see him again and now I have all of these feelings to deal with.”

“You don’t know that!” Leigha argued

“I appreciate that you’re a hopeless romantic, Lee, but I was nothing but a paying customer to him...he basically said so himself.” Y/N frowned, thinking back to Charlie’s words as he walked her to her door.

“Oh...hun, I’m so sorry.”

Y/N let a sad smile slip onto her face, “I’m gonna go to bed, coffee tomorrow morning?”

Y/N hung her phone up and pulled herself up from the couch. She shuffled through the apartment until she reached her room and slowly peeled the sequined dress from her body. She made her way to the vanity and grabbed a makeup wipe and slowly removed the makeup from her face before she crawled into bed and pulled the covers tight around her body.

It was 8 am when Y/N was pulled from her slumber by her phone blaring the ringtone that Leigha insisted she set for herself. She rolled over with her eyes still closed and fumbled around for her phone before slowly cracking her eyes to hit the green button.

“What?” Y/N grumpily answered

“Don’t what me!” Leigha chastised, “there’s a cute boy at the cafe and he just ordered your order! Like to the T!”

Y/N set up in her bed and pressed her fingers into her eyes, rubbing the sleep away in small circles.

“Ok? And?”

“AND?! AND!!! His name is Charlie! I swear to god if you don’t get out of bed and make yourself look decent, I will literally kill you!”

Y/N dropped her phone onto her bed and pulled the covers back. She quickly made her way to her bathroom and brushed her teeth. She stared at herself in the mirror and ran her fingers through her messy bed head, her curls tangling together between her fingers.

“Shit..okay….okay…” She muttered to herself and opted to twist her hair up into a top knot. She secured it with a hair tie and ran back to her room where she threw on a pair of black leggings and an oversized jumper. Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest when she heard a knock on her door.

She wiped her hands on her leggings and quickly made her way to her front door. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves before reaching forward to unlock the door. Her hand shook as she turned the doorknob and slowly pulled the door open. Stood on the other side was Charlie with a small brown bag and a hot coffee extended out to her.

Y/N stepped to the side and opened the door wider, allowing Charlie to come in.

“What are you doing here?” She asked as she took the bag and coffee from his hands. She sat the bag on the counter and pulled the cup to her lips, taking a small sip. She hummed to herself as the warm liquid slid down her throat.

Charlie stepped forward and hesitantly took the drink from her hands, setting it on the counter behind her. Y/N watched anxiously as Charlie’s eyes moved across her face, flickering between her eyes and lips several times before he lifted his hands and placed one on her right cheek while the other cradled her neck.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Charlie whispered into the space between them before catching her lips with his. Charlie pulled away before Y/N had a chance to react, his face glowing red as he held his bottom teeth between his top two teeth.

“Is this free of charge?” Y/N joked as she placed her hands on Charlie’s chest and leaned forward, bringing her lips back to his.

@straywonpil @siennanoelle01 @choppedhoundsludgeclod @cool-ultra-nerd @hxney-bunches-x @crybabyddl @sorryyoureoutofmyleague @dream-a-little-bigger-x @kcd15 @all-in-fangirl @ifilwtmfc @onlygetaway @iainttakingshitfromnobody @angryknightstatesmantrash @jazzyhales @bathtimejish @lanasfandoms @miranda0102 @emotionalbruv @aliandthephantoms @multifandombabies @kinda-really-lost @5sosmukefan @alexpjoyner @mo-d3ans @hannahhistorian92 @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic @sunflowerbecca @n0wornever @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic

#charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie #luke patterson #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie fanfic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #julie and the himbos #julie and the phantoms fanfic #luke patterson fanfic

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years

Text

The Other Side

Part Two

Genre: KSJ Soulmate au

Warnings: none, it’s pure fluff with some emotional jazz I guess

Word Count: 8.8k

Yuri jams her body between me and the door, staring me down as I rattle the handle.

“You locked it!” I shout, seeing red. The door doesn’t budge as I continue to try to break out, the sounds of people shouting outside only spurring me on.

My friend gives me a stern look before nodding. “The door is locked, yes. It will stay like that until you get your heart rate under control. And you want to know how-”

“Yeah, whatever. Get it set up.”

I wave her off, Yuri laughing as I’ve come back to my senses a bit. She rummages through her bag before pulling out a handheld heart monitor. While she pulls a chair over I sink down to my knees, sitting against the door for support.

The second I lean against it, the door jolts. It would appear that Jin has finally arrived.

Yuri has a wide-eyed gaze as she watches the door shake. Jin’s voice rings out loud and clear as he comes to the realization that the door is indeed locked.

“Key. Now.”

Several voices answer him, but he pays them no heed.

“Who locked it.”

His voice is low and monotone, barely sheathing the sharpness that’s threatening to break free and cut down anyone in his path. Just the mere sound of it is enough to make my heart jump again, and I close my eyes against the stars in my vision.

Yuri notices and kneels before me, looping the heart monitor around my finger before lightly tapping my shoulder.

“The senior assistant is on his way, he’ll get Jin under control. For now, do you think you could tell him to calm down and put the heart monitor on?”

I know what she’s saying, but it still takes me a moment to wrap my mind around her words. Once I do, I take a deep breath and give her a shaky nod.

“Sure.”

Rising from the ground, I pause and beg the rational part of my brain to make an appearance. A wry smile cuts across my face.

“This is probably the worst first day ever.”

Yuri shrugs. “Or the best.”

Shaking my head, I knock lightly on the door. I have to do it a couple of times before it’s quiet enough out there for Jin to hear me.

When it’s quiet but nobody responds, I attempt to speak.

“Seokjin?” I wince at how informal I sound, but I’ll just have to dwell on the logistics of it all later on.

Footsteps draw nearer until they’re just before the door. “H-Haneul? Are you ok?”

My cheeks burn bright red as I realize that he remembered my name. “I’m fine, but I need you to do me a favor.”

“Anything,” he responds without a moment’s hesitation. “What do you need?”

Finding encouragement in Yuri’s proud smile, I close my eyes and lean my head against the door. “There should be another heart rate monitor in my bag; I left it in the other room. You need to put it on.”

“You...want me to leave and grab it?” There’s a note of panic in his voice which matches the hitch in my breathing as I think about Jin leaving.

“No! No, don’t leave.” I take a deep breath, fighting to remain in control of my senses. “Just have someone grab the bag and bring it back. Yuri said that the senior assistant will be up shortly - he’ll know what to do from there.”

I’m sure that there’s a crowd of people outside the door, because I hear several feet hurrying away. Despite hearing Jin’s obvious aversion to leaving, I still start to panic as I imagine him leaving.

What if he doesn’t come back? I mean, Bighit probably won’t want me for the job anymore, seeing that I’ve complicated everything. Maybe Jin’s disgusted with me and will just leave before word can get out that his soulmate is a soulmate assistant. My status alone would result in a PR disaster as is-

“Haneul?”

I didn’t even realize how hard I was pushing up against the door until I hear Jin’s voice on the other side. Head jolting up, I gulp down air to fill my empty lungs.

“Yes?”

Now that Jin has calmed down a bit, he sounds a bit timid. “They brought your bag back. Is it ok if I open it?”

“Oh.” The ghost of a smile flickers across my face. “Yeah, that’s fine. The monitor should be in the right outermost pocket.”

I listen intently as my bag is unzipped and Jin begins trying to work the heart monitor. A few people help him with it, while someone else says something about grabbing a chair. About a minute of silence passes before Jungkook’s timid voice rings out.

“Um...Miss Choi?”

“Yeah?”

“What is your heart rate at right now?”

Yuri holds the actual heart monitor, and she quickly consults it before answering. “Haneul’s is currently at 162, it appears to be dropping at a consistent rate. What’s Jin’s?”

Before Jungkook can answer, somebody else arrives. There are low voices consulting outside the door; one of them I recognize as Sejin. I’m about to start pounding on the door and demanding answers when the newcomer speaks up.

“Yuri, are you in there?”

Yuri jumps up. “I am. Is everything ok out there?” When I give her a questioning look, she mouths ‘senior assistant’ to me. I let out a long sigh, feeling a little relieved to know that someone legitimely qualified is out there with Jin.

“Jin is doing fine, however his heart rate is still abnormally high. Jungkook told me Miss Choi is coming down from 162. Is that still the case?”

“She’s down to 158 now, still dropping as it should.”

There’s a long pause before he speaks again. “It would appear that Seokjin here is having a harder time getting his heart rate under control. He’s stuck.”

If my heart wasn’t still beating so fast it would have probably spiked from the panic that sets in. Resting my hand on the doorknob as though it will magically unlock at any given second, I ask what I know I must.

“May I know what his heart rate is, sir?”

“You’re the soulmate?” He sounds a bit uncertain, but Yuri steps in before I decide to break down the door and strangle him.

“She is, but she’s also a highly trained central assistant. Haneul is in control of herself, there’s no need to worry.”

Yuri sounds firm enough that it leaves no room for argument. I make a mental note to buy her dinner or something after all of this blows over.

“Alright,” he sighs. “Seokjin is maintaining a heart rate of 198.”

I gasp before putting my hand over my mouth. “198?” I hiss, whirling to look at Yuri. She has a cool and calm expression on like a mask, but I can see right through her. I would be doing the same thing if I were her; but I’m not.

This is the moment I’ve been waiting for my entire life; it’s the moment I was just dreaming about last night! Yet I should have known that it wouldn’t be so easy. Not only is my soulmate one of the most recognizable idols in the world, he’s also experiencing what is commonly referred to as “stationary shock”.

In other words, Jin has something going on in his head or heart that has him staying in the initial wave of shock that usually only lasts the first 60 seconds.

Yuri is asking questions, but it sounds like she’s speaking underwater. While she’s doing her best to understand the situation, I ease the heart monitor from her hands and stare down at the numbers there.

Instead of continuing to decrease, my numbers remain the same as well. This is what I was expecting; Jin’s predicament directly affects my own. How can I relax when I know that he’s on the other side of that door in a state of shock, unable to calm down?

My feet carry me away from the door, wandering over to a nearby window. Standing before it, I notice with a start that it’s beginning to snow.

The clouds, heavy with water, have decided to gently let go of their burden.

Perhaps I’ve lost just enough sanity to start pondering the lives of nimbus clouds, because suddenly my mind is rushing with the possibilities of the clouds before me.

Just like that, my mind begins to race with all the information I’ve learned over the years about stationary shock. Usually the people who experience it are the same ones that have a history of anxiety when it comes to the topic of soulmates.

There’s a famous example of a couple from the 1960’s that had an encounter similar to anybody else’s; except for the fact that the woman's heart rate refused to come down. What usually takes fifteen minutes ended up going over the three hour mark.

Little things brought her heart rate down: talking to her friends, drinking water, and voicing her thoughts. However, what ended up being her saving grace was her soulmate who took matters into his own hands and talked her down. From their conversation soulmate specialists were able to deduce that she had major anxiety in regard to soulmates due to personal issues. It was only as she was able to open up to her actual soulmate that her heart rate was able to come back down and away from physical harm.

As I watch the snowflakes drift through the sky, I come to the root of it all.

“I have to make him snow,” I mumble. Turning around to where Yuri remains talking through the door, I wave to get her attention.

It takes her a moment, she’s clearly focusing hard on the issue at hand. The hint of a smile cracks her icy expression before she walks over to me.

“What’s up?”

“I think I have to make him snow.”

Yuri tilts her head to one side, looking at me quizzically. “Snow? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s going through stationary shock, isn’t he?” Once she nods, I continue on in my plea. “Don’t you think this could be like that couple, you know, from the 60’s? We need to get him to snow...you know, open up. Let everything go.”

She hesitates, entertaining the idea for a moment. “First we need to go through the normal procedures; chances are the normal steps will bring him down a bit.” Yuri stops me before I can jump into action. “Everyone is bringing up different items for him to go through, Mr. Chung is having him drink some water and stretch right now. Let’s just see how that goes first, alright?”

I look at her incredulously. “Who on earth is Mr. Chung?!”

Yuri laughs, “The senior soulmate assistant, loser. So let’s just let him do his job before we try to pry the nasty truth from your soulmate, ok?”

Blushing madly at the casual way Yuri mentions my soulmate, I give her a reluctant nod. “Fine. But if he’s not better in ten minutes, everybody leaves and I get to do it my way.”

“Let’s say twenty.”

Glaring, I clench my jaw. “Fifteen.”

Yuri sighs before walking back over to the door. “I’ll see what I can do.”

☆

Focusing on the five senses is the first thing all soulmate assistants are taught to do when faced with stationary shock. It helps the person to calm down when they can focus on one thing at a time.

First: Sight.

“Ok Seokjin, my grandchildren have a horrible habit of making fun of how many crooked teeth I have,” Mr. Chung starts. He sounds ultra calm and soothing, I find myself sitting before the door again and being lulled into a calming state just by the sound of his voice. “I’m going to give you my best smile, please pay attention and tell me if my grandchildren are right.”

A few seconds pass before Jin says anything. “You have a lovely smile.”

“Thank you very much, that means a lot coming from an idol such as yourself. Shall we move on to the next step?”

Second: Sound.

“Would you like to listen to some music? Perhaps there’s a piece that helps you to think clearly-”

“No.” Jin’s voice is solid as he rejects the idea. “No music, please.”

Ok, scratch that.

Mr. Chung goes through the other senses, bringing up some tea for Jin to drink and taste, wafting smellings salts under his nose, even bringing up an RJ for him to hold and touch. We’re coming up on fifteen minutes when I give Yuri a knowing look.

“Yuri, Mr. Chung...this is crossing into dangerous territory,” I squeak out, trying to breathe properly. “I think it might be best to give Jin some space for a little while.”

Yuri stares at the door, waiting for Mr. Chung to speak. Holding my breath, I drop my head in my hands and stare down at the floor even as tears prick at my eyes.

This must be my punishment for not being patient enough to just wait for my soulmate.

Right now, sitting so close and yet being undeniably separate, I feel that this is the consequence for not trusting fate enough to just trust its timing.

Now that I’ve fought and clawed my way to the top, I’ve put my soulmate in danger. My heart begins to tear itself apart as I realize that while I’ve been ready for years to meet him, my soulmate was not.

Jin wasn’t ready, and I’ve taken that away from him.

Hot tears are threatening to spill out onto my cheeks, but I brush them away before they get the chance. This isn’t about me, this isn’t the time for self-pity. This is about making sure Jin comes out of this alright.

“Han?” Yuri taps my shoulder, handing me something. I look down to see it’s a paging device. “We’re going, but if you need us, press this button. We’ll be just down the hall.”

I gape up at her, surprised that my request was granted. “You’re actually leaving?” Suddenly my stomach suddenly sinks as I realize that I didn’t really think past this point. “What am I supposed to do?” I whisper.

Yuri fixes my hair, giving me a glowing smile. “There’s a reason he’s your soulmate, Han. Just do what feels right.”

If I wasn’t nearly sobbing before, I definitely am now. Trying my best to swallow my emotions, I nod at her. Yuri walks over to the door, knocking on it.

“We’re ready on this side.”

There’s a few footsteps outside the door and I imagine they’re moving Jin away. For good measure I turn away from the door. The last thing we need is face-to-face contact jolting our heart rate again. I’m not sure how much more I can take of this; let alone Jin.

The sound of the door unlocking reverberates through my entire system, and I cling to the chair I’m sitting on for dear life.

“Quickly, quickly,” Mr. Chung instructs. A moment later, the door shuts and locks again. I can hardly breathe as I hear them moving away, a muffled conversation taking place between Mr. Chung and Jin.

Then all is silent.

Suddenly alone in the room I gaze down at my monitor, watching at my heart rate jumps around a bit before settling back down at 142.

Still too high.

According to Mr. Chung, Jin’s heart rate came down a little bit during the 5 senses procedures, however it was still dangerously high. If everything has stayed the same he should be hovering around 160.

My ears strain to hear if Jin has returned to the door, but I hear nothing. As the seconds tick by I become more and more concerned, remembering my thoughts from earlier.

Jin clearly was not ready to find his soulmate. As far as I know, he had some major issues to work through before we met.

How am I supposed to feel right now?

How am I supposed to react when I’ve finally met the person I’ve been searching for my entire life, only to find that they weren’t ready to receive me?

The question that I’ve buried deep down for the entirety of my life comes bubbling back up to the surface in the face of this new dilemma.

Am I somehow too much?

As I get up out of my chair and sit with my back to the door, I stare out the window at the growing winter storm.

How many times have I wished to let myself go like that? No more small flurries that have people stopping to enjoy before scurrying on; I want to let go of everything I’ve learned and held inside until it’s a blizzard that has cars stopping and school cancelled because to ignore the blizzard is to ignore me.

My vision is blurry as I look down at my hands, almost expecting to see snowflakes falling from them.

Fate is a funny thing. It decided to pair me; a reserved girl with an endless internal blizzard raging and Jin. Jin, the man that flaunts himself with no reserve and infinite confidence.

I wonder if Jin has ever looked inside himself and felt like he was too much. The thought is a comforting one.

A slight push against the door notifies me to the presence of someone else sitting on the other side. Back to back, with only a slab of wood between us, my soulmate and I huff out a sigh at the same time.

It takes me by surprise, and it clearly does for him too. Jin chuckles, the sound sending a thrill through me despite my depressing thoughts. I chew on the inside of my lip, thinking of what to say.

The voice of my friend who found her soulmate years ago comes to my mind, taking me off guard. “And you think he isn’t ready to be found? Nobody ever is. But I can guarantee that the two of you are both ready to be loved.”

Like a lightbulb turning on over my head, I realize that I’ve been worrying over the wrong thing. Sure, maybe Jin wasn’t ready to be found yet. But if I’ve met him doesn't that mean that I should love him regardless?

“Hey Seokjin.”

Leaning my head back and closing my eyes, I can almost hear Jin’s deep breaths. No doubt he’s still trying to breathe deeply so he can get his heart under control.

“Hey Haneul.”

Those two words are enough to have me floating off the ground, a silly grin spreading across my features.

“Do you still have RJ over there?”

“Oh yeah, he’s right here.”

“Is he doing alright?”

Jin chuckles. “He said he’s fine. How are you?”

“I’m ok, I think.” My eyes drift open again and stray back to the window. “Did you know that it’s snowing right now?”

“Really?” Jin sounds strangely familiar, like we do this all the time. “Is it just a little?”

I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “No, it started slow but now it’s really coming down.”

“Good.” I would never be able to guess that Jin is still going through a bout of tachycardia judging from his even tone of voice. “I’d rather it be a blizzard than anything.”

“Me too!” I exclaim. “Much more satisfying.”

“Mm.”

It’s silent again, but this time I don’t feel like the walls are caving in on me. A quick glance at my monitor has me smiling.

I’m down to 135. Once we reach 80 we can open the door.

My heart rate spikes again at the thought of opening the door, and I take a deep breath to calm down.

“Would you describe it to me?” Jin’s voice is quiet, but I hear it clearly in the silence of the room.

“The snowstorm?”

“Yes.” He’s quiet for another moment before adding, “Please.”

Squinting, I stare out the window. “The snow is white.”

The door rumbles as Jin laughs. “We both know that’s not what I meant.”

Laughing to myself, I try to come up with something poetic for my soulmate. “Like I said earlier, it started off slowly. I could see that each snowflake was individual as they came down. Now, they’re in clusters, all big and fluffy. The kind that people try to catch on their tongues, you know?”

“Ooh, right.”

I pause, trying to figure out what else to say. “It makes it look not so cold. Earlier it looked kind of miserable and freezing, but now with all the snow coming down it just makes me want to walk around outside. It’ll be warmer, and quiet.”

Jin hums in acknowledgement. “I like it when it’s quiet after it snows.”

“Me too.”

“That’s probably why we’re…” Jin trails off, and I understand why he doesn’t say it. Just to even think about being soulmates with him has my heart clenching.

“Yeah, probably.” I supply.

“So how’s your first day at your new job going?”

I croak out a laugh, rolling my eyes. “Do you want the honest answer or the lie?”

“Both, please.”

How is he so polite even in teasing? The media has always portrayed him as a free spirit that doesn’t care much about what others think, and yet he’s said please more times in the past twenty minutes than I’ve heard all week.

“It’s great, thanks for asking.”

It’s quiet before Jin speaks up again. “Which one was that?”

I shrug, my shoulders rubbing up against the door. “Probably both, I haven’t decided yet.”

Jin’s laugh sounds loud and clear, but I can’t help but wonder what it would sound like if there wasn’t a door between the two of us right now.

The minutes pass as we continue to chat, each minute bringing my heart rate down a bit more. Once I reach 100, I let out a shout of triumph.

“What happened?” Jin asks.

“I hit 100! What are you at?”

It’s quiet for a long time before Jin responds. “Do you want the honest answer or the lie?”

My stomach drops but I try to keep my tone light. “Honesty is always the best policy.”

“It says 154.”

My eyes grow wide as I sit straight up, wincing as my tailbone feels sore from sitting on the hard floor for so long.

Jin hasn’t hardly dropped at all and it’s been...18 minutes since we were left alone.

“You’re not saying anything.”

I scramble to come up with something to say, but I don’t want to push him too hard. How am I supposed to get someone to open up to me that I only met thirty minutes ago?

Honesty is the best policy, I guess. “I just thought we were getting along well, that’s all.”

I wish I knew Jin well enough to picture what expression he’s wearing right now, but all I can imagine are his wide eyes as he reached out to me when we first saw each other.

“No, we are,” Jin reassures me, guilt evident in his voice.

Turning around to sit cross-legged before the door, I stare it down like I can see through it to Jin. “So...what are you still so freaked out about?”

Jin doesn’t answer, but I hear him shuffling about and suddenly a card slips under the door. I grab it, flipping it over.

“We’re going to have to open this door eventually, aren’t we?” Jin asks as I study the photocard he just pushed under the door.

“What does Jimin’s photocard have to do with that?”

In response another card slips under the door, followed by another and another until I have six photo cards spread out before me. I’m about to ask where his own photo is until it comes flying under the door, Jin’s serious face looking up at me from where he sits in the picture.

Adding it to the collection before me, I furrow my brows, still not understanding what he’s trying to say.

“I’m assuming you’ve heard of me, right?” Before I can answer, Jin continues speaking. There’s an edge to his voice now as his anxiety makes an appearance. “You’ve probably seen photos just like these for years now. People say that we look beautiful, like some fallen gods or something. Untouchable, yet so many can’t seem to keep away.”

Biting down on the questions I have brimming in my mind, I allow Jin to continue without interrupting.

“This is what people are trained to see. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to be loved. But they just don’t get it. If they could see past all of this - the photos, the extravagant clothes and performances, even the funny shows! If they could see this. Right now, me cowering on one side of a door, hiding from my s...soulmate, they wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”

“That’s not true.”

“You have to say that! You’re my soulmate!” Jin’s voice rises in desperation, making me wince. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s ok,” I breathe out. “Go on.”

Jin pauses before speaking again. “I’m not like everyone else. I wasn’t meant for this life. I’m not saying that I’m not grateful for every second of it; I am. It’s brought me more joy than I ever thought possible, but have you ever stared into the faces of thousands of people who love you and do everything for you, and just knew, deep down, that you don’t deserve it?” Jin is nearly panting as he asks the question again. “Have you, Haneul? Have you ever had millions of people love you but it leaves you wide awake every night staring at the ceiling because no matter how you do the math, there is no way you can ever make it up to them? I don’t deserve this, but you do deserve to know that I am not everything I’ve been portrayed to be.”

Suddenly I find myself wishing for rain rather than snow. The snow is silent as it falls, right now I need rain to pound against the windows and roof, to drown out the ache in my chest as I listen to Jin’s voice shake.

“I...I can’t open this door for you, Haneul. Because what you’ll see is so much less than what you’re expecting, and I can’t stand it.”

I never thought it was possible to drown on dry land, but as I gasp for air I find that there is none. I’m drowning beneath the emotions that Jin has thrown out into the void with such disdain, I’m drowning with the knowledge that I don’t know.

I don’t know what it feels like to be loved by people I’ve never met and still feel like I’m not enough. My own problem seems to wither in the face of Jin’s; feeling like I have to hold back just so I can fit into normal society.

As I stare down at the photos, I wonder which is worse: not feeling worthy of an unconditional love, or knowing nobody will ever love you for who you truly are.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter which is worse. At the end of the day, we’re both hurting.

Slowly gathering up the photo cards, I push them back under the door one by one. Jin says nothing as he collects them.

“First,” my voice is thick with emotion but I push through. “I have heard about you. I’ve seen your face literally everywhere, it’s exhausting to think that I was staring at my soulmate this entire time without knowing it was actually you. On the bright side, now I don’t feel so guilty for thinking that you were cute.”

Jin’s dry laugh tells me that he’s not feeling much better and is certainly not much more inclined to open this door.

“Second, I have no idea what that’s like. It sounds...terrifying and beautiful and just weird. Do you actually have that many fans?” I shake my head. “That’s not the point. You’re worried that I won’t want you because you’re not the ‘Jin’ that the world knows?”

Jin gives a muffled response that I interpret as a yes.

“In what world would that make you less in my eyes? I was never expecting to be paired with a world-renowned star and you feeling so inadequate about it all only confirms that I’m not paired with one!” My voice rises as my heart starts to pump harder. “In all reality, I’ve somehow been paired up with a person that’s normal enough to realize that they’re in way over their head, but they’re brave enough to keep swimming. So instead of tiring yourself out and refusing to let me see you for who you are, why don’t you let me throw you a life jacket or something?”

Jin sounds defensive as he questions me. “What are you even saying?”

“I’m making an analogy, Seokjin, let me think.”

He lets out a startled laugh, not saying anything else. As I ponder what to say that can have any sort of effect on him, I remember the storm outside.

Stretching and scooting even closer to the door, I close my eyes against the rising embarrassment. “Just, this is how I think about things sometimes. Hear me out, ok? Then you can decide how you want to do this. It’s your decision as much as it is mine, I won’t force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I promise.” I barely make it through my promise, squeezing my eyes extra tight in hopes that he won’t just decide to get up and leave right now.

“...I’ll listen.”

Rubbing the temples of my forehead, I send up a silent prayer that this will make sense.

“It’s snowing, right? I think you might be like those clouds outside right now. You’ve traveled all over the world, picking up little bits and pieces along the way. So many have looked up at you, wishing they could be up there in the sky with you. You’d love to bring them up with you, wouldn’t you? But it’s impossible for a cloud to pick up a person and carry them to the sky.”

“Ok,” Jin interrupts, and I notice with no small amount of relief that he almost sounds like he’s smiling. “I get where you’re going with this, but first I just have to say that I can’t believe you’re comparing me to a cloud.”

“Are you quite finished?” I quip out, grinning.

“For now.”

Sighing, I continue on. “Well, you’re afraid of what people might see if you let go. They’re so used to clear blue skies that you don’t want to scare them away with a bit of bad weather. Sure, sometimes you can send down a few snowflakes. You know, the kind of flurry that melts by morning. People like that, the snowflakes are beautiful and it let’s them know that you’re living in the same miserable world as the rest of them.”

“But?”

“But I think you’re like me. There’s so much going on inside of you; like doubting you deserve everything you’ve been given. You’ve become so good at managing your persona that you’ve forgotten how to let go when you need to. And you’ve forgotten that your soulmate is the one person guaranteed to not mind at all when you feel like everything is too heavy to hold onto anymore. I wouldn’t even bat an eye. It’s normal to feel that the weight of people’s love is sometimes too heavy to bear, Seokjin.”

I’m not sure if I should wait for him to respond, but I sit there quietly as I collect my thoughts. A glance back at the window shows the snow coming down in those same thick clusters as before, the world outside turned into a sheet of white.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t even realize that minutes pass in silence. This small sliver of time has become infinite for the two of us. We’re too busy looking up at the clouds in our minds and wondering if today will be the day they rage and storm to notice a thing as trivial as time.

“Haneul?”

Jin’s voice brings me back to reality, the door a cruel reminder to our predicament.

“Yeah?”

I can hear him shuffling around again before he speaks. “What if when I start, I can’t stop?”

How do I tell him that I don’t have an answer? I’ve wondered the same thing my entire life.

“I...I’ve thought the same thing.” I admit.

“Really? About yourself?”

“Yeah, of course. Actually, I bet everybody has. But I’ve never heard about anyone going insane from venting their emotions and being honest before, so I think you’ll be able to stop.”

Jin breathes deep, and I wonder if he’s breathing better now. I don’t want to ask what his heart rate is just yet.

“And...you’ll be with me, right?”

I chuckle. “Yeah, with the lifejacket, remember?”

Jin joins in the laughter, the sound easing up some of the stress laid on my shoulders. “You need to decide if we’re talking about clouds or swimming.”

“Right, right.”

What I hope Jin is starting to understand is that I’ll willingly jump in alongside him and swim the length of the ocean if it means he’ll open the door.

It’s been so long, I want to say. I’ve been waiting for you for so long. Can’t you open up?

“See, what I can’t believe is that you didn’t keep my photo card.”

I look at the door with an incredulous expression. “Are you kidding me?! You hypocrite, you need to decide if you’re an arrogant idol or tortured soul!”

We burst out into laughter, amazed at the strangeness of the situation.

“What, I can’t be both?” Jin asks, still laughing.

“Whatever. Do what you want. You don’t happen to have a cushion that you could slide under the door, do you?”

“No, no cushions over here. I feel your pain though; these tile floors are merciless.”

I hum in agreement, switching positions so my legs don’t go numb. It’s quiet for a little while before I yawn, suddenly exhausted by the events of the day.

“So…” Jin starts. “What made you want to become a soulmate assistant?”

I purse my lips, wondering where to even begin. “I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of soulmates, I guess. Why we have them, what their function is, what leads us to them. It just made sense to pursue a degree in soulmate studies, and then obviously this was the next step.”

“So you just applied for Bighit out of the blue?”

Shaking my head, my eyes drift shut as I try to figure out a way to explain this in a way that doesn’t make me sound crazy. “I applied on purpose, it wasn’t just some random job to me. It made sense. I wanted to travel the world...find my soulmate along the way. This job provided the perfect opportunity to do just that.”

Jin must be changing his position as well, I hear him groan a little on the other side. “Well, congrats. You found him, and all within the comfort of Seoul!”

I chuckle, nodding. “That’s right. Now I think it’d be nice to travel, though. I think I’ll be able to enjoy it more.”

“Where do you want to go?”

There’s a part of me that wants to ask if he’s going to join me, but I bite back the comment for now.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. Before, I just wanted to go everywhere. It gave me higher chances of finding my soulmate. Now, though, I’m just realizing that I’ve never thought about going somewhere for the fun of it. Do you have any suggestions?”

“I might have a couple.” Jin pauses. “You really wanted to find me that badly?”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment at his question. “I..yeah, I guess I did. But I was also terrified of finding you.”

“Really?” Jin’s tone is so curious, it makes me smile. “Why would you be scared of finding me?”

I roll my eyes, wanting to tell him that he was obviously scared of being found. Instead I just answer him. “I was worried that you didn’t want to be found.”

It’s silent as Jin processes the new information. I begin to wonder if I’ve made him uncomfortable with my honesty, I can hear him taking slow, deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.”

The way he’s apologizing I know that he really didn’t want to be found. Letting out a dry laugh, I apologize as well. “I’m sorry, too.”

Jin moves around outside, I can feel the door moving under his weight. “This is weird, isn’t it?”

“I mean,” I start, grinning at his innocent view on things. “If you think about it, this is really just another day for me. This is my job, after all.”

Jin snorts. “Don’t tell me you’ve been in this position before.”

I shake my head, forgetting that he can’t see me. “No, never quite like this.”

“Can I…” His voice trails off while I strain to listen, making sure to not miss a single syllable. “Would it be weird if I took you to dinner tonight? You know, to celebrate your first day at your big new job.”

There’s a part of me that wants to tease him for asking me out before even opening the door, but there’s a part of me that’s too busy melting at his kind gesture to say anything of the sort.

“On one condition.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jin huffs. “We’ll open the door soon, I’m almost down to where I should be-”

My laugh cuts him off. “Well, yeah, I guess that’s a pretty good idea but I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll let you take me anywhere if you give your photocard back.” I jump away from the door as I hear loud noises from the other side, the door itself shaking. “What is going-”

My question is answered as Jin’s photocard is shoved under the door, a bit crumpled but worth it. I can’t keep in my laughter at Jin’s eagerness, Jin himself cracking up.

“I’m so glad you didn’t ask for someone else’s,” he pants, making me laugh even more. Carefully smoothing it out, I place it between my phone case and phone. Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I sneak a glance at my monitor.

72.

“Hey…” I hate to have to ask, in fear of what the answer may be, but I have to. “Has your heart rate come down at all?”

When I hear his machine beeping, I start to panic.

“Seokjin? Seokjin what’s-”

“Sorry,” Jin’s sheepish voice floats through the door. “I took it off a little while ago, I’m just booting it back up.”

I’m completely frozen, staring holes through the door. Slapping my hands against it, I vent my anger with him for nearly giving me a heart attack.

“Don't” bang! “do” bang! “that to me!”

The classic windshield wiper laugh that I’ve come to associate with Jin is what answers me, making me roll my eyes and slump back down. A few more seconds pass as Jin fiddles with the machine, trying to get it to read his heart rate.

“Hey!” He shouts excitedly. “I’m ok!”

This has me straightening right up. “Really? What does it say?”

“77!”

I gasp, grabbing the paging device but stopping before I can press it. “Wait, so you’re feeling better now, right?”

Jin laughs, the sound much lighter than before. I can almost feel his relief through the door. “Yeah, I’m great.”

“So...can I get out of this room now?”

The second I ask the question I curse myself, wishing I hadn’t. I probably should have talked to him a bit more, prepared him more before I threw this onto him.

Jin is quiet as he speaks. “But then what happens?”

I chew on my cheek as I ponder how to best prepare him for the rest of the day. “Well, we say hi to each other first. I’ll probably show you where the loose thread is on your sweater, it’s been driving me crazy this entire time.”

He laughs. “You noticed that?”

“Yeah, I did. I’m sure I have food on my face or something, don’t I? That would be just my luck.”

“No, you don’t.” Then, quieter, “You’re perfect.”

As a blush overtakes my face I choose to pretend I didn’t hear him. “We’ll have to go through the typical procedures, you know, going over the packet I have in my bag that’s for new soulmates, that kind of stuff. We actually have a really boring day ahead of us, Seokjin.”

“Just Jin.”

I blink at the door. “Oh, o-ok.” Then, “I’m just Han, if you want.”

“Like Han Solo?” I hit the door again, making Jin laugh. “Kidding, kidding.”

We chat for a couple more minutes, going over the plans for the day. It’s as I’m finishing to explain the trust exercises we’ll have to perform that Jin interrupts me.

“Sorry, but I just realized that I’d much rather have this conversation face to face. If you don’t mind.”

My eyebrows jump up at how confident he sounds. “Really? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Just, go easy on me, ok? I’m not all I’m cracked up to be.” He tries to brush it off as a joke, but it’s clear that he’s still feeling a little insecure. I guess that’s something I’ll just have to help him with over time, starting with today.

Pressing the pager, I smile as I watch the snow fall. “As long as we fix your sweater, I’m happy.”

Jin is laughing, claiming he can’t find any loose thread when the sound of footsteps approaching stops him.

“How’s it going, Seokjin?” Mr. Chung’s happy tone greets him.

“It’s going pretty well,” Jin politely replies. “I think we’re both ready to get up from off the floor.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Yuri’s voice rings out. “We should have brought you a chair, that’s all our fault.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jin responds as he groans getting up from the floor. “You don’t have to worry about me. Han, on the other hand, is a little intense. You might want to watch out for her analogies.”

“Hey!” I shout as everyone laughs. Mr. Chung checks Jin’s heart rate, making sure everything is clear and ready to go. Getting up from the floor, I smooth out my clothes. I head over to the window area again, checking my hair in the reflection.

Looking up at the snowy sky I hear the door unlock.

Whirling around, I stare at it as though it might suddenly come to life and attack me. When a soft knock sounds, I jump back.

It opens just enough for Yuri to stick her head in, grinning once she sees me.

“Hey, are you ok if we just use this room for the rest of this day? Or do you wanna switch?”

I’m mute, waiting to see my soulmate. I just shrug, letting her know that I don’t care. Thankfully Yuri is an expert in anxious soulmates, so she interprets my meaning just fine.

“You can head in, Seokjin.” Yuri says as she heads back out, leaving the door slightly ajar.

I cling to the window frame, knuckles white as I stare out at the storm. Focusing on breathing in and out, I don’t even notice that Jin has entered the room until I see his reflection in the window.

The world moves slowly for a moment as I look up at him in the window, his hands fidgeting at his sides as he waits for me to turn around.

His cheeks are pink, the periwinkle color of his sweater offsetting his dark brown hair that he has swept back. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek like I am, causing his lips to pout.

“We might not be able to go out and eat if it keeps snowing like that,” Jin breathes out. Even though we were a mere inches apart before, the only thing keeping us apart being a door, I can’t help but hold my breath as I hear him speak.

Taking a deep drink of whatever courage I have left in me, I turn to look at him over my shoulder.

He almost looks away upon meeting eyes with me, but something keeps him planted where he is in my gaze.

“That’s alright,” I mumble, eyes sweeping over his face and heart clenching as I see him shifting from one foot to another, clearly uncomfortable to be under such direct scrutiny. “I don’t mind cooking.”

Jin gives me a soft close-lipped smile, his cheeks rounding out. “Me neither.”

I turn back to the window, standing on my tiptoes as I watch the people scurrying below. One person is trudging along holding more bags than I thought humanly possible, making me smile.

“Come look at this,” I wave Jin over, hoping to let him know that my attention is no longer solely on him.

Jin ambles over, pausing for a moment a few steps behind me before taking the last couple of steps. I point down at the person holding their bags, grinning as another person stops to help them.

Through the reflection in the window I can tell that Jin isn’t watching them at all, his head pointed down but his eyes looking over at me. Something tells me that if he knew I saw him, he’d pass out right here and now, so I pretend to not know.

As the two people share the load of bags and walk toward the nearest bus stop, I sigh. “See? There are still good people out in the world.”

My hands are still clinging to the window frame, my tight grip the one thing that gives my anxiety away. To my eternal shock, Jin raises one shaky hand to my own, his warm hand resting over mine before gently detaching it from the window and smoothing it out.

Neither one of us dares to breathe as he repeats the action with my other hand, taking extra care to smooth out my clenched fingers before releasing them.

I look up at my soulmate, my exhausted heart managing to pick up some speed as I find him looking down at me already, his eyes alight with stars.

His voice is low as he mumbles out, “You’re different from what I thought you’d be.”

The way he’s looking at me feels like walking out into the world the morning after a blizzard, everything hushed and glittering. It has this way of making my own thoughts quiet down, focusing on just this one thing.

I’m not sure how to put anything into words, so I just smile up at him. “That’s good, right?”

Jin nods, a bit of his hair falling forward with the action. “Yes.”

My attention returns to the snow outside once I see the tips of his ears going red. My smile is reflected in the glass, and my heart stutters as I see Jin’s mesmerized smile mirror my own. Locking eyes in the hazy reflection, I laugh a little.

“What’s so funny?” Jin asks, turning to look at me.

Shaking my head, I look down at my shoes before glancing up at him. “I’m probably not what you expected because I compared you to a cloud.”

He grins, looking down at his shoes before glancing up at me. “Yeah, that stung a little. I try very hard to maintain a nice figure, and yet here you are, comparing me with a big, fat fluffy thing.”

Laughing at his offended expression, I shrug. “I had to come up with something! It’s weird; for all the times I’ve dreamed about meeting my soulmate, I’ve never come up with what to say. That was the best I could do under pressure.”

“No, you did great, really.” He smiles easily now, feeling a bit more comfortable. “You’ve never really thought of what to say, though?”

I shake my head. “No, have you?”

Jin gives me a long look before nodding. “Oh yeah, definitely.”

“Let’s hear it, then.” I nudge him, Jin swaying on his feet as though I had shoved him across the room. I roll my eyes at his dramatic manner, loving every second of it.

“I’ll tell you under one condition.”

“What?”

Jin sighs, coming to stand behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up with goosebumps as he brings his arms around me, gently grabbing my hands and slowly bringing them up to cover my eyes.

“You’re not allowed to look at me while I say it.”

He keeps his hands over mine as they rest over my eyes, effectively shutting out the rest of the world. I keep in my laugh, not wanting to deter him.

“Ok, I won’t peek.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good.” Jin’s voice is low and quiet as I nearly jolt out of my skin when I realize just how close he is. He waits to make sure my hands aren’t going to move from my eyes before he removes his hands, one coming to rest on the small of my back before he moves away. I’m left feeling suddenly cold, almost reaching out for him but reminding myself to stay still.

His voice comes from before me, just off to the right as he begins to speak. I can almost picture him leaning against the windowsill, watching me with those bright eyes.

“I’m not extraordinarily talented at a lot of things,” Jin starts, the sound of his voice immediately begging me to gravitate toward him. “I can’t paint you beautiful things or write you award winning songs, because sometimes the things that go on inside my head can’t be translated onto paper. I might not be able to sing for you the way you’d like, because my voice has a tendency to shake when I’m alone with someone I care about.”

Warmth fills my chest at his words even as I want to tell him that none of it matters. His lack of skill in all areas of life is only natural, and I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s better at it all than he lets on.

“I’ve been learning to play the piano, but I’m no Beethoven. If I mess up the keys it’s because I can feel you looking at me, and I just can’t help it.” Jin pauses, taking a shaky breath. “There might be times when I can’t be there for you, because I’m over on the other side of the world on some stage, but there are a few things that I can promise you I’m good at.”

Jin’s hands are warm as they wrap about my own, slowly pulling my hands away from my eyes. I blink them open, looking up to see my soulmate standing before me, still leaning up against the windowsill just as I pictured. His cheeks are pink as he looks down to where he holds my hands in his, making no move to let go.

“I can work the knots out of your shoulders when you have a long day at work, and I promise to remember your favorite meal. When we’re far away from each other, I’ll send you annoying messages every chance I get so you know that I’m thinking of you.” I chuckle a little, the sound bringing Jin’s eyes back up to my face. “I’ll keep the receipts for everything I ever buy you. The dishes won’t be left in the sink overnight, and I’m really good at listening.”

My vision begins to blur as tears threaten to spill over, but Jin doesn’t stop. The snow falling behind him frames him in a winter wonderland, and my mind burns the image into my memory.

“I’m not very good at much, but I’ll be good to you.”

Staring at him, I start to see the pieces that Jin hides from everyone else. I squeeze his hands, pledging to take the time to learn everything that there is to discover about him.

My eyes drift down to land on the single loose thread on the collar of his sweater, and I laugh even as a tear escapes me.

Reaching up to pluck the thread, I give my soulmate a wink which he immediately returns almost out of habit.

“You remember asking me how my first day of work was going?” When he nods, looking a bit confused, I continue. “I know what the honest answer is, now.”

Jin looks intrigued as he gives me a shy smile. “What is it?”

Stepping in a bit closer, I pull his arms around me before lightly feathering through his hair. “Pretty great.”

The last thing I see before Jin leans forward to plant a delicate kiss to my forehead are the clouds that have finally stopped snowing, no longer weighed down by their heavy burden.

Fin.

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all1e23 · 5 years

Text

Chocolate Dipped

Pairings: Sugar Daddy!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Steve has finally had enough of these two idiots.

Warnings: Angsty stuff.

A/N: I am feeling better! Just in time to make you guys cry for Christmas. This is in Steve’s POV at the start. I think I grabbed everyon’s tags but I was pretty sick this week. If I forgot to add you please shoot me an ask and I’ll correct it today. Also, half edited. I got lazy. lol If you like it come sing me a song, write me a story or scream at me! This is the sixth part of my series Sugary Sweet. Make sure you catch up!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!***

“You goin’ home tonight, buck?”

Steve hung around the doorway to Bucky’s office, hovering like a worried parent. The small room was lived in. Two weeks have passed since they attended Stark’s gala, and Bucky made it a point to work himself to death every single day since. There were cartons upon cartons of takeout, guest pillows from his penthouse on the leather couch that sat under the large windows on the south wall, and Steve caught Bucky wearing the same white button-up three days in a row.

Bucky was avoiding something, and Steve had a decent idea of what that ‘something’ was.

“Hm?” Bucky mumbled, barely looking up from his computer as he did. “Uh, no. Not tonight. I want to get this done for the Danvers account.”

Steve sighed as he spun his keys around his fingers, debating how far he could push this before he drove Bucky away.

“We have people who do that now, Buck. Go home and get some sleep. Wash your hair.”

To Steve’s delight, Bucky looked up, humor lighting up his eyes and smile curling up the corners of his mouth.

“You sayin’ I look bad, Stevie?”

Steve forced through his concern long enough to grin.

“I’m saying you haven’t been home since you broke up with Y/n. Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”

Bucky’s smile fell the moment Steve said her name, and his eyes fell back on his computer. He wasn’t going to talk about Y/n or their arrangement. There was nothing to say. It was never a real relationship as much as Bucky wanted it to be, so there was no reason to treat it as such.

“I don’t have anything to say about it. There was no break-up. It was a temporary situation, and it’s passed. Let’s all move on with our lives.”

“Bullshit.”

“Goodnight, Steven.”

The quiet tug of the door and the hitch of the latch echoes in Bucky’s empty office, leaving him alone in the darkened building. He knew Steve was trying to help, but Steve wasn’t. Bucky didn’t need to be babysat. He needed to go back to that coffee shop, pay for your coffee, and walk away before he let his heart fall yours. Yeah, he knew sulking in his office wasn’t going to fix anything, but he couldn’t face going home. Your toothbrush was still hanging next to his, that drawer in his dresser was full of your clothes, and there was the picture of the two of you resting on the nightstand. Taking down the pictures in his office was bad enough; at least here, the sheets didn’t smell like you.

It has been weeks when the hell was he going to get over you?

Bucky really hoped it would be soon.

The bar was packed. No stool was empty, and the floor was full of kids half his age waiting for what was probably their first beer. Steve groaned. Dealing with grumpy Bucky and now this was completely unfair. The loud cheering made Steve wince as he pushed towards the middle of the crowd, it was hard to see through the crowd of twenty-year-olds, and he has never felt quite as old as he did at that moment.

When did he become this grumpy old man? He blamed Bucky.

Steve caught his wife’s whistle and grinned when he spotted her in one of those half booths that no one actually enjoys sitting at.

“How is he?”

Steve sighed and placed a kiss on her cheek as he squeezed into the seat next to her. That was a loaded question. He gripped his wife’s legs and pulled them over his lap, tucking her under his arm. Steve was going to make the most of the dollhouse-sized booth.

“He’s… a mess. I know he misses her, but he won’t talk about it. I’m not sure what happened, but I don’t think it was a clean break like he’s making it sound.”

“Do you think she left him?”

He shook his head.

No, Steve knew Bucky well enough to know guilt when he saw it.

“I think Bucky didn’t speak up when he should have is what I think, and maybe she got tired of waiting to be more than a game.”

Steve took a sip of Sharon’s red wine and made a face. She grinned and ran her fingers through his bread, scratching gently until he hummed softly and leaned into her touch.

“Well, I think,” Sharon whispered, watching the sleepy smile tug at Steve’s lips. “We are stuck sitting at the bar. The dining room is full of what appears to be teenagers. Somehow when we weren't looking, we became the oldest people in the room. It's a tiny booth or share a table with strangers.”

“That’s alright. We can stay right here.” Steve nudged her chin up with two fingers and smiled. “I like being stuck with you.”

“You think that sweet talk is going to get you somewhere?”

“Pretty confident. Bucky taught me all I know."

Steve grinned and pecked her lips.

A loud voice interrupted Steve’s train of thought and he couldn't help but listen in.

“Look, if fancy man bun can’t see how awesome you are, then you don’t need to waste your time on him.” Steve tried to fight his smile. Whoever that was, he wouldn’t mind sharing a table with them.

“But… I think I love him.”

Steve froze when he heard your voice, and he subtly peeked over his shoulder to find you sitting at a table nearby. You weren’t alone. There was a blond guy he didn’t know, his arm was around your redheaded friend that scared the life out of him sometimes, Nat he was pretty sure, and another red-haired woman he didn’t know. He turned back around before you caught him spying, and he tried to listen over the boisterous shouts and loud, obnoxious music.

This was getting ridiculous. He was getting too old to go to places like this.

“And that sucks,” The guy continued."He’s shit for dragging you along because he knew how you felt. Everyone knew. I’m not saying marry Johnny Lightning--”

You were talking about Bucky.

“Storm.”

“Storm. Whatever. I’m not saying marry him, but it will help take your mind off the asshole who broke your heart.”

“First of all, I only know his name. I don’t have his number because I don’t want to go out with him, Clint. I don’t want anyone else. Can we just stop talking about this, please? It’s bad enough you drug me out of my nice warm bed and made come here. Please stop talking about Bucky.”

“I wasn’t going to let you hide in bed for the rest of your life,” The woman -- Nat, said with a hint of venom in her voice. “I wish you would have talked to him like I told you to. Something is off about this whole thing.”

“I didn’t have time! Things were over before I realized they were.”

“You could go talk to him now?”

“What’s the point? He’s obviously done with whatever we were. I haven’t heard from him in days.”

Bucky was the one that broke up with you? Steve hadn’t expected that, but perhaps he should have.

Steve fidgeted enough to wiggle his phone out of his pocket, silently quieting Sharon before she could make a fuss and draw your attention. He snapped a picture over his shoulder, even though he shouldn’t. You were staring at rose necklace Bucky gave you in Boston while your friends chatted amongst themselves, your eyes were red and puffy like you had been crying non-stop for days. You looked incredibly lonely for someone sitting in the middle of a crowded bar and surrounded by friends.

He dropped the image into a message and sent it off to Bucky.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

Steve placed a kiss on Sharon’s head and slid out of the booth, smiling at her confusion. He walked straight to your table and stopped next to you, making a point to get his shoes and black dress pants in your line of vision. You looked up, and your fingers slipped off the necklace, your mouth fell open and stuttered incoherently.

“Y/n, I think we should talk.”

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

Across town, Bucky sat in his office, still sitting at his desk hours after Steve left him only now he was staring at his phone instead of his computer. Bucky hasn’t been able to look away from the damn thing since Steve’s text came in over twenty minutes ago. You looked good. Great. A little sad, maybe, but beautiful. He read Steve’s words one more time, and his heart clenched again.

She doesn’t look like someone who moved on. I think you left a few things out of the story.

So he did leave some things out. It was his right to leave out whatever he wanted to. Steve didn’t need to know why things didn’t work out. It wouldn’t change the outcome.

“Hi.”

Bucky’s fingers shook at the sound of your voice, so much so he dropped his phone back onto his desk. You stood in the doorway to his office, fidgeting and uncomfortable. You were still in that little black dress you were wearing in the photo, so you must have come straight from the bar. Bucky slowly leaned back in his chair, his eyes glued to yours.

“Hi… what are you doing here? How did you get in?”

You looked guilty, and Bucky had to fight back a grin.

“Steve gave me his ID.”

You held up a little white card as an explanation and gave him that same shy, nervous smile you gave him when he offered to pay for your coffee all those months ago. Steve could never just mind his own damn business. Nosy little punk.

Bucky should probably thank him for meddling this one time -- depending on how the rest of this night goes.

“Of course, he did.”

You took a few steps in, just enough that you could place the card on Bucky’s desk a keep your distance. Bucky watched your eyes scan his desk for your missing pictures, and he wanted to jump in and tell you they were on the bookshelf behind him now. They were hard to look at it all the time now. He saw relief flood you as you spotted them.

He still didn’t understand why you were here.

“Is everything okay, sweet girl?”

The name just slipped out. Bucky hadn’t meant it to. You weren’t… well, you weren’t anything anymore, and he didn’t have a right to call you pet names, but he couldn’t help it. Bucky wanted to call his sweet girl forever. Would have, too, if only the stars had aligned the way Bucky had wanted.

Bucky watched you as hesitated. You took a step forward and then stopped as if you were trying to decide where to go, towards him or out the door. He saw the conflict in your eyes as you fought with yourself, and then you stood up taller with your shoulders squared, having made your choice. You strode towards Bucky with determination, walking around his desk, and Bucky pushed off from his feet, letting his chair roll back enough to give you the space you needed-- wanted.

He hoped it was what you wanted.

Bucky didn’t move or make a sound. Just held his breath and waited.

You sank down on his lap, straddling his waist as you’ve done during the hundreds of times you’ve visited him in his office. Bucky waited until you settled comfortably, and his hands came up to wrap around you and rest against your backside. Your own find their favorite spot tangled in his hair, and the tears catching in your lashes were caught right away.

It took every ounce of strength he had not to lean in and kiss those tears away.

“You left.” You whimpered. “Just disappeared and stopped talking to me like we were never… something.”

Bucky’s heart twisted into something dark and ugly. He hadn’t thought there was much to say. Things had been off since he came home from Boston, and then that boy, he didn’t think there was anything left after that.

“I thought--” Bucky’s arms tightened around you, fingers pressed into your skin as he forced himself to admit what he was scared of since he first met you -- you didn’t really want him.

“I thought maybe you liked that kid from the gala. He's closer to your age and… he could be someone who wants the same things you want. I didn’t want you to feel like you were stuck with me if you didn’t want-- if this was temporary. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“No, that’s not what I want.”

Bucky swiped his thumb under your right eye, wiping away the tears he could no longer stand to see. He didn’t know how to ask if you loved him or how to tell you that he wanted more, but this? He knew this. Bucky’s spent the last eight months asking you want you wanted and doing everything he could to give it to you.

He could do this.

“What do you want, babygirl? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

There was only one thing you wanted.

“I want you to love me,” you choked out in a desperate, hopeless plea. “I want you to love me like I love you. I want you to be in love with me.”

“Oh, baby.”

Bucky cupped the back of your neck and let the other rest on your back, firmly holding you in place on his lap. This was something he should have said months ago.

“I’ve been in love with you for months. Maybe since I bought you that first cup of coffee and you looked at me with those sweet lips and pouty eyes. You’ve had my love, sweet girl.”

You sniffed and took a breath, your bottom lip still trembling as you twisted over his words.

“But-- I, I heard you telling you Sharon you didn’t want a future with me.”

Bucky’s nose crinkled, and his brow furrowed. “What? What are you talkin’ about, baby?”

“In Boston. That night you were drinking at the bar. I came down to… to see you, and you said you didn’t want a family right now and not with me.”

Bucky was smiling, and he could tell by your pout you were about to jump off his lap because of it. He couldn’t help it. This was good. The best news he has heard in weeks. This was all because he was an idiot, and he could fix that. He could stop being an idiot. Bucky took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around your waist, letting the chair lean back all the way, so you fell against his chest, and your feet came off the floor just enough to make you unstable if you tried to get up on your own.

He needed you to stay put a little longer, and if you wanted to leave after he said his peace, he would let you go.

"Did you hear what I said after that?”

“No," you squeaked. “I ran back up to our-- your room.”

“Our room.” He corrected.

"Our room." You amended. "Then you came up and we-- Well, we made-- we..."

Bucky didn't need you to say anymore. He remembered. Bucky absolutely remembered making love to you. He held you against him and carefully explained what really happened that night.

“I did say that, but that wasn’t what I meant. It came out all wrong, and you'll be happy to know Steve and Sam would beat my ass to defend you without a second thought. What I meant and what I explained to them that night was I wanted to wait until you were ready for all that because if I’m going to do all that? Get married and have kids; I only want to do it with you.”

You groaned and thumped your head against his chest. “Why is Nat always right? She said you didn’t mean it. That it was a mistake.”

Bucky chuckled quietly. His fingers gently rubbed at your scalp, and his lips found your skin, pressing soft kisses to your temple. “Probably because she could see it written on my face. According to Sam, I look like a lovesick idiot every time you’re near me.”

Forcing yourself to lift your head, you met his eyes and whispered,” Bucky, I do love you, and I don’t want that dumb bellhop from Boston or any other guy. You’re all I want, but I’m not ready to get married right now. I know you are, and if you want all that right now-- I don’t know, okay? I graduate in May, and then I want to work and-- and --I don’t think I can--”

Bucky’s thumb settled over your lips, stopping your panic.

“I know, and that’s why I said I wanted to wait. Let you find your footing in a new job and get yourself settled there before we even talk about it. I wanted to tell you all this in Boston. Tell you how much you mean to me. How you’re all, I think about, every damn day and the nights that I’m not with you are like torture.”

Your eyes twinkled with someone Bucky didn’t like, and his cheeks warmed right away.

“So that was the whole picnic thing? And renting out the skywalk?”

Bucky nodded sheepishly.

“I might have chickened out. I was worried you didn’t feel the same, and I wasn’t ready to lose you.”

One thing was certain; you were made for each other. You were both idiots.

“So, you do see a future with me?” You asked, nerves showing through your shaky voice. You needed to be sure. You couldn’t go through all that again.

“You weren’t just changing the subject with sex every time?”

Bucky barked out a laugh, the chair under you shaking from the force of it. You pursed your lips. He didn’t have to laugh so hard. It was a serious question. Bucky gave your hip an apologetic squeeze and shook his head.

“No, I didn’t mean to do that. It was incredibly sexy to hear you say you only wanted... me. You could have asked me for anything, and you just wanted me. I like that."

“It’s true, though. I don’t want any of that other stuff. You’re the only thing I want, Buck.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened, and his hand slipped under the hemline of your dress. “Somethin’ you want… right now?”

Your slender fingers gripped his wrist, and you shook your head. “Nope. What I want right now is to get you home, shower, and maybe sleep till late tomorrow. I haven’t-- I haven’t been sleeping great lately.”

The confession made Bucky remember how terrible he probably looked from his own sleeping habits over the past eighteen days. The last he saw in the bathroom mirror, the dark circles under his eyes, were getting pretty hard to hide. His beard was unkempt and thick and Steve wasn’t wrong about needing to wash his hair. He raised the arm you were still clutching and pressed a kiss to your fingers.

“This how it’s going to work from now on? Just goin’ tell me what to do all the time?”

“Yep. That’s how it works when I’m your girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen dramatically, and Bucky grins.

“I am… I mean, it’s okay I said that, right?”

“Well, you are my girl.”

Bucky can feel your tension deflate, and he really likes the smile on your face.

“Mmm, and you’re my sugar. My sweet fella.”

#sugardaddy!bucky x reader #sugar daddy!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #alternate universe #sugar daddy AU

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tuffduff · 4 years

Text

Rock Stars Make Bad Boyfriends (Vince Neil x Reader x Slash)

Pairing: Vince Neil x Reader x Slash

Words: 3,170

Request: anon! : “hi again! i’ve got another idea for an imagine so i came right to your blog - hopes that’s okay! i had an idea where the reader kind of has an unofficial thing with Vince Neil but he’s stringing her along - flirting with other girls and such almost in front of the reader’s face - & she ends up meeting slash when gnr and the crue are on tour. slash immediately falls for her & she falls for him too but slash sees how Vince treats her. slash eventually asks her on a date & vince ends up hearing about it & confronting the reader about it. she tells him she really likes slash and she’s done with him and eventually slash and the reader end up dating much to vince’s dismay. thank you so much!”

A/N: Yes, love; that is more than okay!! I love that y’all come to me with these ideas! I love this prompt and I think about this Motley/GNR tour a lot...even if it was short. Turned into a short fic, but hopefully y’all don’t mind that. Hope you’re all doing well!

Taglist: @ubernoxa @the--blackdahlia @reigns420 @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @rumoured-whispers @dustnbones

“Vince?” The blonde kept his head turned away from you as though you hadn’t spoken a word. You felt the scowl on your face deepen as he sent a wave towards the girl working the outdoor bar of the hotel resort pool area. “Vince, are you even listening to me?” This time, your tone must’ve been enough to get his attention as he turned back to you.

“Aw, I’m sorry, baby. What were you saying?” You pushed your tongue against the wall of your mouth trying to summon patience; it’s not like you just spent the better part of the last five minutes trying to tell Vince about your day.

“I was talking about what happened earlier in the gift shop. There was a little girl who didn’t have enough money to buy this key chain, and a little old man bought it for her.”

“Mmm.” Vince’s head had turned again the minute you started talking. You frowned.

“And then the shop blew up. It was a huge explosion.”

“Mmhm.”

“The little girl and old man died.”

“That’s nice. Hey, I’m gonna go get us some more drinks, alright, baby?” Vince stood from his lounge chair without waiting for your reply. “Be right back!”

You sighed a little as you watched him unsurprisingly saunter over to the girl at the bar who was practically licking her lips.

All your girlfriends called you crazy for agreeing to go on tour with a rock star. Well, no; that was misleading. They encouraged going on tour, but expecting serious commitment from a rock star? In your dreams, they said. Rock stars don’t make good boyfriends.

You met Vince only about a month prior, so you knew it was nothing quite serious, but was it wrong for you to hope? You liked Vince. That first night neither of you could stop talking until the early morning hours, his eyes sparkling and unmoving from yours, his hand on your knee. But he was a humongous flirt. You tried not to let it get to you—after all, here you were poolside at a swanky resort in a room you didn’t pay for, going to concerts you didn’t have to buy tickets for. Tradeoffs, you supposed. Even still, you couldn’t help but glance over and over again as Vince stayed longer and longer at the bar. You tried to work on your tan and stay undeterred as you planned your outfit in your head for the show later.

That night, Vince complimented you already three times on the way to the arena, but that was only after he heard Tommy telling you that you were looking “hot as fuck, dude.” You still counted it as a win. Then you scolded yourself; were relationships supposed to be about winning?

You also heard Nikki saying something about how their new opening band would be starting tonight, kicking off this leg of the tour. Guns N’ Roses—you had never heard of them, but the name sounded cool. They must have been good if they were opening for the Crue.

Despite his sweet talking and possessive touch all the way to the arena, Vince soon abandoned you once you actually got there. You brushed it off; you weren’t a child. He did have a show to get ready for—you tried not to notice how many groupies you were already seeing walk by, though. There were more interesting things to see anyways. At least, you were determined to find them.

That turned out, again, to be wishful thinking. You didn’t have complete access to every part of the arena, and really, you felt bad about being in the way of all the crew members. That led to you finding the door outside, to the back of the arena, where you hoped to just find a quiet place for a moment.

It took two tugs with all your strength to actually pull open the heavy doors, but instead of opening a gateway to the outside, another body toppled into you. You let out a startled yelp.

“Oh, thank fuck, man!” You heard a soft voice say in relief. There was so much hair in your face that you couldn’t see behind all the black unruly coils to untangle yourself from this mystery guy. “I went outside just to smoke and like, chill before the show, you know, but the doors fucking locked—” you both finally untangled and you found yourself face to face with, well, still a whole lotta hair.

He had on black leather pants and a denim jacket with black sleeves, along with cowboy boots. You couldn’t see his eyes behind his curls, but you were sure he was staring right at you.

“Woah, uh...” he murmured. His voice never changed from the soft murmur. “I thought you were security or something.” You chuckled and watched as he pushed his hair away from his face, revealing pretty, brown, fascinated eyes that were, indeed, staring right at you. You could feel heat growing in your cheeks, but did your best to stay calm.

“No, just a lost soul.” You joked lightly. He blinked a few times at you, almost dumbfounded. He was adorable.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something fun.” A smile grew on his face at your reply.

“I can show you that. I’m Slash.”

“Slash?” You asked in amazement, and he chuckled.

“Yeah, well, my name’s Saul. But I’ve been called Slash for years.” Saul. Slash.

“Okay, cool. I’m Y/N.” You both exchanged smiles and he jerked his head, waiting to make sure you walked beside him rather than behind him.

He took you to where the rest of his band was gathered and introduced you to an eclectic group, all of whom were nice and chill. Less chaos than Motley, but still had that aura hanging in the air, that they were on the verge of destruction, that they were a gang.

Slash, though soft-spoken, asked you question after question—where you were from, what you normally did for fun, what music you liked as he strummed a guitar mindlessly. You watched his fingers in amazement, how effortless he made the action look. And then came his question, “why are you backstage?”

“Oh, well, I’m with—” Speak of the devil…

“Y/N?” You turned at the sound of the door slamming open and Vince appearing in the door frame. “Where the fuck have you been, I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“I’ve been listening to these guys jam. You guys picked a great opening act.” You replied coolly, and you couldn’t help but notice the way Slash smiled down at his guitar silently.

“Well, you’re supposed to be helping me with my makeup,” Vince didn’t hesitate to cross the room and pull you off the couch you were sitting on by your arm, giving you no chance in the matter. “Or, something more productive. Like putting that pretty mouth of yours to use.” You sent Vince a look and immediately snatched your arm out of his grip. No way were you going to tolerate being disrespected like that in a room full of people.

“If you wanted a sex toy to bring on the road with you, I’m sure you could have had plenty of other girls—that’s not what I am.” You replied, pushing around him and walking out of the room. Vince chased you down the hall.

“Hey! Y/N, wait! Hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Vince cooed, pulling you to a stop and pressing his lips to your neck. “I just wanted to make sure they knew you were with me; I just get jealous. Especially when you look so fucking good tonight.” You let it go, but you didn’t forget the incident. And you especially didn’t forget the moment later, when you were watching Motley Crue perform from the side of the stage, as a hand gently touched your shoulder. It was Slash.

“Hey...you ever...want...someone...find...” you couldn’t hear him over Mick’s guitar.

“What?” You yelled at him. He laughed before leaning in close to your ear. He had to brush your hair back, and his lips were practically touching your skin.

“If you ever get bored or want to have fun with someone while you’re on tour, come and find me.”

The implication of that almost had you nervous; did all these guys just think you were a road groupie? But, sure enough, Vince ditched you once more at another show and you found yourself knocking on the Guns N’ Roses dressing room door. And there was Slash, answering the door with a smile as though you had known each other for years. “Hey, dude. Check this out, tell me what you think.” He played you a guitar riff he had been working on and waited expectantly to hear your thoughts after. And that was that, you were fast friends.

You weren’t sure how to explain the phenomenon, but you knew it was mutual. Just a special connection; even when you were both still learning about each other, it felt more as if you were remembering. It was like putting on a pair of boots that had already been worn in.

And you knew it was mutual because, according to his bandmates, Slash was pretty shy unless he was drunk. But not with you; he could talk your ear off. Somehow in just a couple weeks, it felt as if you were best friends.

That was an incredible feeling in itself; at this age in life, could you really meet another person out of the blue and grow so close so fast? But beyond that, there were little moments. These moments you quickly grew to live for, these moments made your heart race and your palms sweat.

Moments when you looked over at him, cigarette hanging from his mouth as he focused on the guitar, and you never wanted to kiss a pair of lips more. Moments when you thought maybe, just maybe, Slash felt the same. He would hug you in greeting every time he saw you, but sometimes leave his arm around your waist, effectively holding you to him until he had to let you go. When you would swear you caught him already staring because of how fast he turned his head away.

“Y/N, I can’t wait for you to meet Pandora.”

“Who’s that?” He smiled up at you, his head resting on your lap as it usually did, a guitar resting in his.

“She’s my boa.”

“Your...your snake?”

“She’s the sweetest—she’s gonna love you.”

He wanted you to meet his snake—or, snakes. You laughed, and for some reason, you felt such a wave of affection hit you at just the thought of his existence. You spent more time watching Guns open from the side of the stage than you did watching Motley—you were usually goofing off with Slash at that point. Suddenly, Vince’s continuing disappearances didn’t bother you so much. The only thing that actually did bother you was when Slash would walk you up to your always empty hotel room every evening. The both of you would drag your steps every time and take unnecessary trips to the snack machine, or stand out on the balcony to check out the moon. Just anything to prolong ending the night.

“Empty again,” you joked to Slash as you opened the hotel room door to dark and vacant room. You weren’t even sure why you and Vince kept up the charade anymore—he hadn’t even kissed you in days. At this point, you were riding to the arenas with Slash and his band.

Slash didn’t laugh like you thought he would. He was looking down, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Can I ask you something and you promise to not get mad?” He asked you. His words were almost rushed, as though he had to gather courage to even say them.

“Yeah, of course you can. What’s up?”

“Do you actually like him? Vince?” He ventured. “I mean, I know you don’t love him, but...”

“How do you know that?” You asked out of curiosity, certainly not out of disagreement. He was right, of course. Slash shrugged a shoulder.

“I would just imagine, you know...if you love someone, you would want to be around them. Tell them things first, eat with them, just kinda look to them first.” You listened to his words, realizing over the past few days you had been doing all of the above with Slash. You had given up trying to tell the nuances of your day to Vince, but Slash listened when you told him how you short circuited the electricity with your blow dryer at the hotel. He laughed at your jokes or when you tripped backstage because he was always watching you. He gave you his jacket when he saw you shiver once, he made sure you got food after the show if you were still hungry. When he was drunk and carefree, he wouldn’t chase after groupies. He would come and find you and fall asleep on your shoulder.

“I don’t love Vince.” You confirmed softly. “Vince...had me fooled into thinking he was someone else. That he cared.”

“Then why are you with him?” You stared back at him, unable to give him an answer.

“I don’t...”

“Let’s go out.” You felt your heart jump.

“We’ve...we’ve been out, though.”

“Y/N, Denny’s after midnight is hardly a date.” He said, though he was fighting a smile; that was a good memory.

“Depends on who you ask,” you chuckled, making him chuckle. “Wait, did you say a date?”

“Well, yeah. That’s what I mean.” He said softly. “Listen, Y/N. I think you’re pretty cool. And I dunno, I’ve never really...like, there’s a lot of pretty girls out there, right? But you’re so fucking beautiful I thought I was seeing things when you opened the door that day. Then, I found out you were with Vince, and I tried to let it go, but I see how he treats you, and it pisses me off. You deserve better. But you just, us, you and I, we click, you know? I know you feel it, right?” You nodded after a moment and felt your heart flip again when he smiled. “So, give it a chance. We have the day off tomorrow. Let’s fucking do something fun—I don’t know, we can go to the fucking zoo! Or go find some concert somewhere or just, go anywhere.”

“...Okay.” You agreed with a smile. He grinned back at you.

“Okay? So like, early afternoon? 4 or something?” You smiled; was he that excited to see you? Your heart hadn’t been this giddy in a long time.

“Yeah, that sounds great with me.”

It was barely 3 in the afternoon and you were towel drying your wet hair, fresh out of the shower, when your hotel room slammed open. Vince appeared for the first time since you’d last seen him before the concert the night before, staring at you with what you could only describe as fury. You stared at him silently.

“Can you fucking tell me why all the Guns N’ Roses guys are hyping up Slash for his big date tonight with Y/N?” He demanded. You looked down, waiting for the shake and guilt to hit you, but it never came.

“Vince, it’s not like we were in love with each other.” You said with quiet bluntness. Vince’s eyes grew wide.

“I brought you on fucking tour with me!”

“And ever since then you’ve left me night in and night out to go and sleep with every groupie that comes your way! We haven’t slept in the same bed in weeks! There are fucking lipstick stains on your neck right now, Vince!” He glanced in the mirror quickly before he cursed under his breath.

“Y/N...it’s just, the way it is, you know? That’s the life we live.”

“You just fuck other girls and have me waiting for you too? That’s the life?”

“Alright, I fucked up. I do care about you, Y/N, baby. I do. I’m trying. I’ll do better.” Vince’s voice was soft and sugary, and he walked over to you, grabbing your hand in his, holding your eyes with his. “Just give me another shot. We’ll have some fun.” This time, his smooth talking did nothing for you; your heart was already taken by someone else. You slipped your hand out of his and silently began gathering up your things.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” Vince laughed as you shoved your clothes in your luggage. “C’mon, baby, just calm down. You’re not even dressed.” You sent him an incredulous look.

“I am more than calm. Goodbye, Vince.”

“Where are you going? Y/N, seriously! Oh, what—are you just gonna jump onto the next rock star? I thought you weren’t a groupie, huh? He just wants to fuck you and then he’ll drop you, just you fucking wait! That’s all we do!”

“No, that’s what you do. You don’t speak for him or me.” You snapped over your shoulder at Vince’s childish yelling. The door slammed behind you and you smirked a little.

You made your way through the hotel in your towel, barefoot and hair dripping, and knocked on the door you knew to be Slash’s. He opened it slowly in confusion, and felt your heart expand at the sight of him already dressed and ready to go much too early—clean hair swept out of his eyes, a flannel that was barely buttoned, and leather pants. He took one look at your bag and towel.

“It’s not 4 yet.” He said, the hint of a smile on his lips.

“Speak for yourself.” You said, fighting the urge to smile back. He leaned against the door frame, now smiling outright. “…You know, I think I just lost my backstage pass.” Slash laughed.

“It’s all good; I’ll sneak you in in my guitar case or some shit. And besides; this leg of the tour is almost over. We only have a few shows with them left. Next month, we’re opening for Alice Cooper.” He paused a little, his voice turning serious. “You know you can come, if you want.”

“I don’t know,” you murmured, looking down. Some of the things Vince had said were sinking in; you didn’t want to be known as just some groupie that jumped from band to band. Slash touched your shoulder in an effort to get you to look at him.

“I want you to come.” Your heart fluttered again, and threatened to soar out of your chest entirely when he leaned forward and gave you a light and sweet tender peck on the lips—your very first kiss together. He pulled back too quickly, laughing. “You look ridiculous.” You glanced back down at your towel again and laughed. Slash took your bag from your shoulder and stood aside. “You know, I’ve only got one bed in here.”

“That sounds good to me.”

#slash gnr #saul hudson #slash gnr imagine #saul hudson imagine #guns n roses #gnr imagine #gnr #gnr fanfiction #Vince Neil #vince neil imagine #Motley Crue #motley crue imagine #motley crue fanfiction #80s imagines #classic rock imagine #classic rock fanfic #classic rock

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mycomfortblanket · 4 years

Text

Written in Ink

Chapter 2

“You’re Aang,” there was no question in her voice.

“You’re Toph.”

“And we’re leaving, come on Zuko,” Katara says, pulling Zuko away from the other two.

The air between the two of them gets immensely awkward. Aang can't take his eyes off of her, his thoughts are running a million miles an hour, and the only thought that would come to the forefront of his mind was of all the soulmates out there, he certainly could have gotten worse.

“Listen, I really don’t want to come off as this arrogant bitch who is always unsatisfied, but the whole soulmate thing doesn’t sit well with me. It’s nothing against-” Toph started but Aang lets out a big sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank god. I was trying to figure out how to break it to you that I didn’t want to do the soulmate thing either.”

“Seriously?” Toph asks, her eyebrows raised, “Well, alright then. Uh, I’m going to head home. Long day and all,” she says, standing up and begins to walk towards the front door.

Aang immediately jumps up and reaches for her elbow, “Wait, you’re walking all the way home?”

Toph turns towards him, “Yeah. I do it all the time, Katara and Zuko are dating, and I don’t exactly like to be third wheel.”

“Let me walk you home.”

“Ha. Aang, no offense, but I’m not some damsel in distress. I can get home fine on my own.”

“I’m not saying you’re a damsel in distress, but it’s not polite for me to just watch you walk out the door at this time of night and let you walk home,” he says, his voice taking on a frustrated tone.

“Whatever. But, you’re wasting your time.”

“How long have you worked at Iroh’s place?” she asks, her cane clicking against the concrete every now and then.

“About a year now, I think. I’m not entirely sure.”

Toph looks over in his direction, “You mean to tell me you’ve worked there for a year and I’m just now meeting you? Katara and I go there all the time.”

“Well, Zuko and I didn’t get along too well at the beginning so Iroh had us working different shifts, so that’s probably why we never met. Or I wasn’t assigned to your table, although, all things considering, I think I would have remembered seeing you,” he says, muttering the last part.

A blush spreads across Toph’s cheeks and she dips her head hoping that he doesn’t notice. She really wasn’t liking this. The small butterflies that she had been feeling all night while talking to him had erupted to giant ass pterodactyls seconds after she learned his name.

She was trying her damn hardest not to walk closer to him or lean into his space to smell him. She kept repeating in her mind her beliefs about the Names and how horribly suffocating they were. She should be free to choose who she wants and when she wants, not when some stupid inscription shows up on her skin.

Toph was trying to keep the distance between them and not ask any personal questions but somehow, they seemed to be pulled together by an invisible wire until their hands brushed. She would pull herself away and she could feel him pull away as well, the blush rising higher on her cheeks.

They finally come to her apartment building and she begins walking up the steps but stops and turned back towards him, “Thanks for walking me home. Sorry about the Names.”

“It’s fine. Was bound to happen, right? Anyways, I’ll see you later,” he steps off the bottom step and watches her walk into the building and punch the button for the elevator.

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

“I just don’t see how a guy working with Zuko that he didn’t get along with never came up!” Toph says harshly into the phone. She’s pacing back in forth in her living room trying not to lose her cool too much.

“I’m sorry! I thought the name was familiar but it was so long ago that it didn’t even register who it was.

“Whatever. Did you tell Zuko anything?” Toph asks slightly more calmly.

“No, you told me not to. When he asked, I just... distracted him.”

“I don’t want to think about how you distracted him. It’s fine. I probably won’t see him again. I mean, he worked at Iroh’s place for a year and we never bumped into each other, so it’s fine!”

It was not fine. Now that they have met, they couldn’t seem to stop running into each other. Literally. The first time was a complete accident. Aang had opened the door to the Jasmine Dragon, Iroh’s restaurant, rather quickly and Toph’s cane became stuck underneath the door. The two of them spent at least ten minutes trying to get it unstuck and arguing about whose fault it was.

The next time is in her own home. She had walks out into the living room after a shower in nothing but a towel and her headphones in and makes her way over to the kitchen. Apparently, Katara, Zuko, and Aang were hanging around the kitchen table doing various forms of homework.

She's digging around in the fridge looking for her Naked smoothies (ironic right) when a gentle hand came to her shoulder and takes out an earbud, “Toph, people are here.”

“WHAT?!” Toph whips around and rips out the other earbud. She clutches the towel close to her body, “Who is here?!”

“Uh, it’s me, Zuko, and uhhh… Aang,” her voice going low when she says his name.

Toph’s face immediately went blood red, “Why didn’t you tell me we had people over?!” she hisses.

“Well, you were in the shower and I wasn’t paying attention when you got out, I’m sorry.”

“Whatever, it’s fine. Fuck. Just warn a girl next time,” and with that, she opens the fridge back up and continued looking for her drink.

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

He's focused on the algebraic equation but glances up with he heard a soft voice singing along to Black by Pearl Jam, his favorite song. Toph’s walking through the living room, skirting the furniture and reaching out to lightly set her fingers on corners as she passes.

She’s in nothing but a short towel, her hair piled on top of her head and her earbuds placed firmly in her ear. She walks over to the fridge and begins rummaging around, her fingers dancing from item to item. When she leans over, more of her legs become visible, and Aang can’t help but stare. She’s fucking gorgeous and the more skin that exposed to him, the more he wants to see.

As soon as Toph bends over, Katara is out of her seat and moving over to Toph to let her know of the audience in the kitchen. Even though Katara spoke low when she said his name, he instantly knew when it registers with Toph that he is seeing her in little to nothing.

Her eyes scan the kitchen listening for a sound that would direct her to him. Somehow, her eyes land right on him and they make unintentional eye contact which steals his breath away.

He immediately drops his head onto the table unable to keep looking at her. Toph’s bare shoulders were free of any freckles or acne and looked as smooth as silk. He so badly wanted to run his fingers across her shoulders to see if his assumption is correct.

Once Toph’s freak out is over, she bends back down and continues looking for something before she snatches it out of the fridge and walks back to her room.

Katara sits down, her cheeks having a slight blush to them. She glances up at Aang who still has his head down on the table.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. It's just a lot harder to stay away from her than I thought.”

“I still don't understand why you two won't just talk to each other and get together. You guys had such a great time at the party,” Katara says in a low voice so Toph doesn't hear from her room.

“I just… I can't get emotionally attached to someone right now. It's… complicated,” Aang says, hoping that's the end of the discussion.

“Explain it to me then,” Katara says smartly, leaning back in her chair with her arms over her chest. She raises an eyebrow at him and waits for him to start talking.

“I just… I don't know. My guardian, Monk Gyatso, he past away a year or two ago from some form of rare lung cancer. And just, ever since, I- I don't know. I just haven't wanted to be close to anyone I guess? It sounds stupid when I say it out loud but, in my head it makes sense to me…” Aang says, his voice trailing off at the end of his sentence.

Katara makes a humming noise in the back of her throat in acknowledgment and cuts her eyes away from Aang and over to Zuko.

“Has Zuko ever told you about his family?”

Zuko's eyes go wide when she brings the topic up. Why on earth would she want to talk about that?

“Long story short, when I met him, he was this super angry person, could barely get a word in without his temper flaring up,” she says, waving her hand in the air.

“That's not true,” Zuko grumbles.l

“It totally is true. When his Name first appeared on his skin, we had actually just made eye contact. He immediately came up to me and started giving me shit for walking into his life, saying that he had enough to deal with and I didn't need to add to it.”

“Oh whatever, I did not say that!”

“You most certainly did. And being the stubborn person I am, I poked a finger in his chest and made him back down. It was slow and hard work, some serious fights broke out between us that I won't go into. But, in the end, it was completely worth it,” she says, her eyes softening when she looks back at Zuko.

Aang takes a deep breath and sits back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the table in front of him, “Yeah, that's great and all, but it's not always like that. Plus, she doesn't want it either.”

“Oh, I know her reasoning and it's because she's stubborn about having things decided for her, that's it. Her parents growing up were incredibly over protective cause she’s blind,” she gestured towards Toph’s room, “She would act out any chance she could, which honestly, just made the whole situation that much worse.”

Aang looks over to the hallway that Toph had disappeared down. Glancing back at Katara, he just shrugs his shoulder before picking up his pen and continuing his homework.

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

Later that night, Toph heard Katara yell for her from the kitchen. She walks in there in a large tshirt and sweatpants, her hair down and falling over her shoulders. She had put on her baggiest clothes to hide herself after the incident that had happened earlier

“Sokka and his girlfriend are coming over to watch some movie that Zuko has been raving about. Do you want to watch with us?”

Toph just nods her head as she walks into the kitchen and hops up on the counter as Katara rummaged around the kitchen, preparing something to eat.

“Is Aang going to be there?” She asks, fiddling with the wooden spoon Katara had just taken out.

“Uh, I'm actually still here,” he says from the kitchen table.

“Oh. My bad. So, princess, what's for dinner?” Toph asks, trying to ignore Aang and the butterflies that erupt in her tummy.

“Zuko ordered some pizza, I'm making brownies, Sokka is bringing snacks and yes, before you ask, he did get you your blue sour straws,” Katara says, cutting off any outburst Toph may have had.

An hour later, everyone had arrived and Aang had been introduced to Sokka as Zuko’s coworker and nothing more, and Sokka’s date had been introduced at Suki, and nothing more. Katara had set up the tv to the opening scene of the movie and wis waiting for everyone to grab their slice of pizza, snacks, and drinks and pick their spots for the movie.

Toph was the last one into the living room as usual, “Okay all you seeing-eyed creatures, let’s just make this easier for everyone, where am I sitting?

“Mmm,” Katara says, swallowing her bite of pizza, “Other end of the main couch, next to Aang.”

“Shocker,” Toph mumbles, too low for anyone to hear. She makes her way over to her spot and sits down between Aang and the arm of the couch. She leans her elbow on the arm of the couch and attempts to move herself a little further away from him nonchalantly.

Aang leans into her a little more and she can feel his breath move the hairs around her neck just before he says, “You’re being totally obvious you know.” His light laugh causes the corners of her lips to turn up involuntarily.

“My bad,” she says, sitting back normally on the couch.

“If my cooties really bother you that much, I can sit on the floor.”

Toph snorts which draws the attention of Katara and Suki but they say nothing, “No, sorry. I’ll behave. I’ll be normal.” She pulls her legs up on the couch with her, sitting criss cross applesauce, her knee resting against Aang’s thigh and the other resting on the arm of the couch. She puts her elbow on the arm as well and leans her cheek against her fist and listens to the movie.

The heat from Toph’s knee seeps into his pants and it’s all he can think about as the movie continues. She opens her bag of sour straws and points them over his way, offering him one. It takes him a full three seconds to take his mind off her knee touching his thigh to acknowledge the fact that she is offering him some of her snack. Grabbing on quickly, he shoves it in his mouth and looks over at her.

She is still looking straight ahead, although a lot more bored. “You bored?” he whispers to her.

She jumps slightly, but turns her head to whisper back, “Yeah. Action movies are kind of hard to follow along with since, you know, I can’t see the ‘action scenes’,” she says, using quotation marks around ‘action scenes'.

About half way through the movie, she shifts so that both of her feet are curled up on the couch with her, resting against the arm of the couch and just barely touching him. She lays her head down fully onto the arm of the couch as well and closes her eyes.

He honestly doesn’t blame her for being bored. He’s bored.

He’s always hated action movies so he can’t imagine how bored she must be trying to decipher people with British accents talk during loud car chasing scenes. Eventually, he leans his head back against the couch and closes his eyes as well.

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

The screen finally fades to black and it seems that only Katara and Zuko are still awake. She looks around the room and notes that Aang is leaning against Toph, his head resting against her shoulder as she rests against the arm of the couch.

Sokka is spread out longways across the other couch with his back tucked into the corner and Suki in between his legs, using his chest as a makeshift pillow.

“No offense, but that movie sucked,” Katara whispers standing up from the couch and stretching, popping her back in multiple places.

“Hey, 007 movies are amazing, you just don’t appreciate them correctly…” the two of them head towards her bed room as he continues ranting about the cinematic wonder world of Agent Bond.

#taang #atla #avatar the last airbender #toph x aang #aang x toph #chapter two #written in ink #fluff #no angst yet #but I guess it'll get there

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mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog · 5 years

Text

Damian’s Sister

So I read @unmaskedagain‘s Lady Noire In Gotham and @monkeebratz‘s SMOL DAMIEN MARIBAT AU. Which created this idea.

A tad bit of background info.

Marinette, as well as most of the class, is between 15 and 16.

Damian has barely turned 11, having spent barely a year with the Wayne’s, so some of the things that they are teaching him are slowly root in his mind, which is why in the beginning he will come across as a bit of a lost boy. Not entirely sure of himself but sure of what he wants.

Marinette has the Black Cat Miraculous, and is notorious among everyone in her class for taking phones. Everyone just laughs about it whenever a phone is missing because it is most likely with Marinette.

*Line Break Inc.*

Marinette sighed as she looked around her classmates, everyone very unimpressed. They all realize that their lives are at stake and that a gun is being pointed at Marinette’s head. But Marinette wasn’t panicking, so why should they?

Marinette wasn’t panicking because she realizes that she had died before. While they aren’t pleasant memories, she still knows how it is to die, and she doesn’t panic just because some villain thinks that they can have a large pay day from the people in her class, from the French government.

Only thing is that they never negotiate with terrorist.

So, no. Marinette was not worried. Not for her life. For her parents, yes, she is worried for them. But not her life.

Marinette looked back to her class and see that the men that have surrounded the class with guns, weren’t paying attention to their guns, very much. Allowing Plagg to slip in and go through the guns, doing whatever it is that Plagg will do to cause luck on their side.

“Hey,” The class president called to her class. Every single one of their eyes turned to her, while also keeping an eye on the men in front of them. The men also turn their entire attention on the young Parisian fully ignoring their guns at that point. “Have we or have we not survived akuma after akuma?” The teens straightened their backs and looked more defiant. “And how did we survive them?” Marinette saw Alya and Cholé smirk before the two and every other female kicked the men in front of them, in the pelvic.

Marinette looked away from her classmates as they cause havoc and escape. The man in front of her smirked as he pulled his trigger, causing nothing to happen.

Marinette is so lucky she is Lady Noire.

The Asian Parisian raised a single eyebrow before she kicks the man in his jaw with her heel. Shame she was wearing her flats that day.

She looked around to her classmates and how they captured the group of men. Adrien and Nino were rounding up the guns and putting them a safe distance away from everyone. Ivan and Myléne were sitting on one. Cholé and Sabrina were putting makeup on one, who looks to be happy to be having makeup being placed on him, or her, Marinette wasn’t getting into that. Alya and Alix had one on his knees and were each pulling his arms behind him. Nathaniel had somehow convinced one to pose for him, every time that the guy tried to move Nathaniel would scream about aesthetic, in French. Rose, Juleka, and Lila were talking to one about all of his regrets in life, well Rose was getting him to talk about it and Juleka was there while Lila was digging into for everything that the man said. Kim and Max were arguing over the best way to hold a person down while demonstrating with two different guys.

“Alya, switch me and call it in.” Marinette walked over to where Alya was with Alix and took her spot, planting her foot in the man’s knee cavity and pulled his arm back towards her. Alya walked away and pulled a phone out from somewhere on her body. Marinette wasn’t going to question it. “Adrien, Nino, will you two check on Madam Bustier?”

Their teacher was rather violently knocked out when she took a stand, alone, against the men. They waked her with one of their guns on the side of her head, she fell over and has been bleeding from where she was hit.

It took another twenty minutes before police or paramedics showed up. Twenty minutes listening to Max and Kim argue, of listening to Rose comfort and Lila berate the same man in broken English, of listening to Cholé give the man (or women) makeup tips in perfect English and listening to Nathaniel occasionally scream in French about aesthetic.

Marinette was proud of her class.

Yeah, they could survive in Gotham as long as they were together.

However.

Three hours later, Marinette has winded up alone. She simply got lost in a crowd and thought she had heard her teacher call for her in one direction, the paramedics had slowly cleared the class and the teacher. The mass hysteria of the area, from the police, to the paramedics, even ten different new reporters (some yelling over each other after having set up too close to one another, both looking like they want to destroy the other one with their mic) has caused Marinette to completely miss her class getting onto their bus back to their hotel.

So, Marinette made a mistake and ended up walking down Crime Alley. She admits it is her fault.

And looking a group of three men in the eyes, all of them having knives, Marinette has had it for the day.

“Plagg, transform me.” She felt the power of creation wash over her as she continued to look the men in the eye. “You are all the worst. I just wanted a vacation from my own villain, but instead I had to come here to deal with other heroes’ villains.” They were in such a state of shock she was easily able to take them down tie them up to a light pole and left an anonymous tip on the GCPD website. When she turned around, she saw a jaw dropped Robin.

“Welp. I’m died.”

“No, no you are not.” He quickly countered and started muttering about five different things and he paced back and forth in front of her. He was talking so fast and so low it was hard for Marinette to understand completely.

“Uh, so sorry but I must be going to my temporary home.” Marinette waved to the side before taking her staff and launching herself the other way that she waved. Marinette got all the way to her room, with there being nine girls on the trip Marinette ended up with her own room. She had just closed the window and dropped her transformation when she heard a tapping on her window.

“AH!” Marinette screamed, jumped, and spun around wielding her purse as a weapon. A throat cleared, making Marinette open her eyes, finding Robin there. “Oh, hello.”

“Hello, I wish for you to be my sister.” Robin stepped off of the windowsill and took a step into the room before turning around and closing the window and the curtain.

“What?” Marinette did not know what was happening, do people just adopt other people in the States?

“You’ll get to know who I am under the mask as well as the rest of the dubbed ‘Batfamily’.” He kept his back towards Marinette as he talked.

“Wait.”

“As well a bit more formal training. You are good; however, you could use some work.”

“Stop.” Marinette finally got Robin to stop talking and turn towards her. Marinette also saw how tense he is. His posture, his face. Marinette was sure that if she could see his eyes, she’d see tears welling up in his eyes.

“Do you not wish to be my sister?”

“Well, it’s just that…”

“Yes of course, it was foolish for me to assume.” He turned away from her and clenched his fist at his sides, Marinette swore he had his eyes clenched underneath his mask.

“Robin, stop.” Marinette reached for him and brought him to sit on the bed with her. “I have parents.”

“Better than mine, I’m sure.” He continued to not look at Marinette, his fists tightened even more.

“I was a sort of miracle child. My parents never thought they could have me, or any child.” Marinette brought his face to look at hers.

“You have no siblings?” His fist unclenched as realization came upon him.

“I’d like one though.” Marinette opened her arms to receive a hug. She kept them open while Robin turned away and took off his mask, bringing his hand up to his face to rub at before turning back around, without his mask, and buried his head in her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her middle.

“I have three brothers and one sister as well as two sorts of sisters. But I had no say in them. I had no say in my parents. But I want a say in who my family is. It would mean the world to me to be your brother and your parent’s son.”

Marinette knew that this moment was very delicate. She had to remind him of his own family, but she didn’t know the situation of his family or how they treated him. Marinette sighed as she ran her fingers through his hair, deciding to just be quite for now and talking to Robin either in the morning or the next night.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment. In a second Robin had gotten across the room and hid in the bathroom and had silently closed the door. Marinette just blinked not sure if what she saw was correct. She slowly stood up and got to the door just as the person on the other side knocked again.

Marinette waited for the knocking to finish before opening the door to her teacher.

“Hello, Madam Bustier.” Marinette smiled brightly and subtly kicked her shoes off, to show that she has been there the entire time.

“Hello Marinette. I need you to do bedroom checks. You know where everyone needs to be. My head is still killing me.” Caline Bustier held up a clip board with a sheet with names across the top, room numbers right next to the name, as well as boxes underneath the names and numbers.

“It is a good thing that tomorrow is supposed to be a free day.” Marinette grabbed hold of the clip board and held it to her chest.

“That is another thing. Everyone is supposed to report to me tomorrow, but you mind if they reported to you?” Bustier leaned against the door jam, seeming to have a difficult time to just stand at that point.

“Not at all. Let me just get my slippers to walk around in the hall with, and I can get started on those bedroom checks as well as tell everyone that you will need to rest tomorrow so they will need to report to me.” Marinette backed out of the doorway a tad to start heading towards the bathroom to put her slippers on her feet as well as warn Robin of what was going on.

“Thank you, if anyone has any questions have them email me.”

“Of course. Rest well, Madam.”

“You’ll also need to do a morning check in and check ins through the day tomorrow.”

“How often do I need to have everyone check in with me?”

“Once an hour, use the clip board to keep track of the times.” Marinette nod and ensured that Bustier made it to her room before slipping back into her own and heading to her bathroom.

“Hey, I need to go…”

“Room check, I heard. I know French.” Marinette nodded, he seemed more hesitant.

Marinette after a moment of neither saying anything asked, “Do you need to go home?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” He moved back to the bed and picked up his mask and turned back to her still as hesitant. “I’d like to spend the day with you tomorrow. If you are alright with that?”

Marinette smiled and pulled him into a hug. “I’d love to spend the day with my brother.”

#maribat #marinette deserves better #ml fic #miraculous ladybug au #batman au #big sis mari #lil bro dami #Damian's Sister

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imnotoverlyobsessive · 4 years

Text

Looks Like Someone Picked a Whole Bushel of Oopsie Daisies: Chapter Three

Okaaaay I am so fucking sorry it's been awhile, you guys. But you're not here for my life story and personal bullshit, I'm sure (though please do feel free to ask). So here's chapter three. Enjoy... I hope?

Thank you, as always, to @edward-or-ford for being an excellent beta!

Chapter Three: Sex on the Brain Feel you under my skin; middle of the night, wonder if you feel it, too.- All Time Low, Trouble Is

There was a warm body atop Mabel’s, and lips pressed against hers. There were hands grasping her breasts, then one of them traveled down between her legs.

“Mabel,” gasped a voice as the lips traveled down her neck. A pleasant voice. Deep, but not alarmingly so. It was soothing, familiar. Comforting and arousing all at the same time.

One hand pinched her nipple while the other stroked her, and she gasped out quietly.

When she opened her eyes, Dipper leaned down to kiss her again, and-

Mabel woke with a start, disorientated. Her eyes flitted around the dark room, and she remembered she was at Candy’s. Recognizing Grenda’s sleeping form on the floor and Candy’s even breaths beside her, Mabel sighed quietly.

Well. That was certainly disappointing. Those types of dreams were the worst because she hated waking up from them.

She hadn’t always had so many sex dreams. It was a recent development. And frankly, she wasn’t a fan. Yeah, Dipper was sexy, but like. She knew that already. She didn’t need her subconscious waving a big ol’ flag with “REMEMBER HOW SEXY YOUR BRO IS?” emblazoned on it. She could do without that, thanks ever so much.

It was half an hour before she managed to fall back asleep. She definitely didn’t fill her friends in on the details the next day, even though she probably would’ve if the dream had been about literally anybody except her twin brother.

She was quite sure that when Grenda and Candy thought of “sexy” vibes in relation to Mabel, Dipper was the last person on the face of the earth who might be considered for such things.

————

The following morning, Mabel tried her absolute hardest to seem as normal as she possibly could. Y’know, talk without changes in her voice or tone or speech pattern. Gesticulate some but not too much. Talk about non-Dipper things. Definitely not because Mabel was having a great deal of difficulty thinking about anything but Dipper and what his lips and hands and teeth (oh god his teeth) would feel like on various parts of her body. That had zero to do with it.

Of course, normal for Mabel was… odd for other people, to say the least. And that suited her just fine. Really, it did. She rather liked it that way, actually. Normal people were kinda lame.

Still, there were, of course, some aspects of Mabel’s life that she sometimes wished were a bit more normal, she pondered as she brushed her hair in the bathroom mirror. Not entirely, just a bit. She wished she didn’t have to live separately from her sibling. She wished she’d found her soulmate the same way as everyone else rather than having it be a big mystery.

But most all, she wished she’d never developed these stupid feelings for Dipper. They really were stupid. Who gets feelings for their twin, anyway? Like, where did that even come from?

When Mabel thinks of the word “incest”, she pictures royal families trying to keep the bloodlines pure and stereotypical hillbillies and rednecks. What she did not picture was a modern day middle class Californian teenager.

Not that it had gotten to incest levels, of course. Obviously not. In order for anything to happen, Dipper would have to return her feelings, which he decidedly did not. Why would he?

You’re the weirdo, she reminded herself as she set her hairbrush down.

Well. It is what it is, she supposed. No reason to dwell on it.

And on that note, Mabel skipped out of the bathroom, doing a rather excellent job of pretending she was definitely not dwelling on her romantic-but-very-much-unrequited love for her brother.

Not even a little.

————

They didn’t ride in the same car. Of course they didn’t. They never did. She knew, intellectually speaking, that her and Dipper couldn’t be in the same car for the half hour drive from Candy’s to the mountains. Even five minute drives, though, her parents refused.

“What if you get stuck in traffic?” They’d demand whenever she asked if just once, Dipper could take her in his car. It didn’t seem to make a difference that the odds of a traffic jam in a town as small as Gravity Falls were minuscule at best. Eventually, she stopped asking, stopped trying to reason with them.

She wished she could text him during the drive. She couldn’t stop staring at his last message. She didn’t mean to, it was just that she sometimes got into these moods where whenever she stopped looking at his texts, she’d immediately get the irresistible urge to look at them again, even if she knew full well that all she’d see was the fifteen minute old see you in a bit.

Mabel felt bad about the whole thing sometimes. It wasn’t that she’d meant to fall in love. She truly hadn’t. But… Dipper was just so goddamn sweet. He was considerate and kind and he always asked about her day. And when she told him, he actually listened! None of the guys at her school ever did that. They just stared at her boobs while she talked.

It was suuuuuuuper guilt-inducing, though. Like, somewhere near her (it had to be near her or she’d have been going through withdrawal symptoms all her life) was her soulmate. Emotionally healthy people developed crushes on their soulmates even before they turned seventeen and felt the pull.

Evidently, Mabel wasn’t an emotionally healthy person. She’d developed a crush on her twin brother. And then it had developed into this suffocating, desperate, agonizing, all-encompassing consuming love and adoration that she just couldn’t seem to shake.

It was hard not to see him, she mused as she stared at her phone (still black because he hadn’t texted her, obviously; get a grip, Mabel). But then, it was just as hard to actually see him. The urge to touch him was even worse lately.

Sighing and leaning back in her seat, Mabel stared out the window.

She completely missed her father’s solemn gaze flickering to her briefly in the rear view mirror.

————

Mabel liked visiting Gravity Falls in the winter. She probably wouldn’t get to see snow otherwise. It was beautiful.

It had snowed in the mountains the night before, and there was frost on the ground and snow on the tops of the trees, the sun bouncing off them and making them shine. The cold air bit her face when she opened the car door, but Dipper’s smile in her direction as he stepped out of his own beat-up sedan made her forget about everything else.

Buzz buzz buzz, said the bees.

Mabel resisted the urge to dance when she saw him.

Or slap her stomach a few times. Maybe the sting of it would numb the stupid fucking bees and their stupid fucking buzzing, for god’s sake, would you shut up already-

She did neither, however (good job, Mabel girl!), instead opting for a definitely-not-nervous-in-the-slightest-so-just-shut-your-mouth smile.

“Why hello, Sir Dippingsauce!” She ambled over to him, telling herself she was doing an excellent job of not being awkward.

How long did she have to keep that up for again? A week? That was… that was fine. She could do a week. She could totally do a week, no problemo (Note: Mabel could not do a week. She could possibly do 2.5 days, and even that was most certainly pushing it, but to suggest as much is incredibly rude, as Mabel was doing her very best to make her mind into a 100% Doubt-Free Zone™).

He put an arm across his stomach, the other rigid at his side, and bowed deeply at the waist with a decidedly snooty expression on his too-attractive-to-be-legal face. “Lady Mabelton,” he greeted. “I trust your carriage ride was pleasant?”

“Indeed, milord. You may rise,” she lifted her hand in a dainty gesture, her nose (which was red from the cold) in the air. He did, grinning. “So, what d’you have planned for me n’ the ‘rents today?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Just a fun little nature walk, I guess. Nothing crazy.”

Mabel shot him double finger guns. “Coolio, bro-lio.”

Their parents were just climbing out of the car. They always took forever. Why did people over the age of twenty-eight always take forever to emerge from a vehicle?

Mabel fiddled with the empty space her right forefinger left in gloves she wore. Gloves were always too big for her as far as finger-length went.

“Soooooo…” she drawled as her parents rounded their car. “Lesgo!”

Running off in a totally random direction, she skidded to a halt at the edge of a clearing. “Yeeeah… might wanna let me lead the way, Mabes. I know my way around pretty well, since I... y’know... live here,” Dipper said with another one of those heart-stopping grins.

Ugh.

Suddenly feeling tremendously uncomfortable again, Mabel laughed awkwardly. “Indeed you do, bro-bro. Indeed you do.” Chill chill chill it’s fine, it’s fine, totally fine up in here.

Dipper walked around Mabel and started down a winding gravel path, definitely neglecting to give her anything that could remotely be classified as “enough space to not have a heart attack”. She followed behind him after several seconds, trying very hard not to stare at his butt.

Again. Dammit.

Mrs. Pines even scolded him a bit. “Careful not touch your sister, Dipper!”

Her voice carried through the trees, and Dipper called out a quick, “kay,” over his shoulder before continuing on. It had been perhaps five minutes. Ten, maybe? Who knew? Time lost meaning when she stared at Dipper too long, and he was walking directly ahead of her. Besides, she had to pay attention to where he was going! She couldn’t really be blamed for staring at him, right?

The path widened significantly after awhile, allowing Dipper to fall back a bit, frosted gravel crunching beneath his sneakers.

“Is it okay if we walk ahead of you, Dipper?” Mr. Pines asked. “Your mother and I would like to look at the scenery a bit more clearly than we can behind you and your sister.”

Dipper nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty straightforward from here.”

Mr. and Mrs. Pines smiled at him and stepped around him, Mr. Pines patting Dipper’s shoulder affectionately as he walked past.

Dipper fell into step beside Mabel, walking in silence. Mabel inspected her shoes. Some of the frost had gotten on the rhinestones she’d glued to them.

Glancing up in front of her after several minutes, she noticed that their parents had gotten further and further away, far out of earshot.

For the first time in as long as Mabel could remember, they didn’t seem to be paying too much attention to her and Dipper’s interactions.

Blushing furiously at the very idea of being alone with her twin, she looked down at her shoes again. Thank god for the cold. Nobody would question her red face in the cold.

“So,” Dipper said haltingly. Mabel’s head whipped up to face him, her eyes wide. She hadn’t really been expecting him to actually speak, but then she couldn’t very well have not expected it, either. It had just… never occurred to her that he might.

“So?” Mabel said back. Don’t be awkward don’t be awkward don’t be awkward-

“Well, there’s this… thing.”

“Very specific,” Mabel nodded indulgently. “Say no more, brother dear. I know of what you speak.”

His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Y-you do?” He stuttered.

Mabel snorted. “Uh, no. Doi. Why would I know?”

He blinked at her. “Oh. Right. Yeah. Guess you… probably wouldn’t, huh?” He looked away and muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t quite catch.

“What was that?” She asked, pushing her hair back behind the ear closest to him, some of the strands catching on her glove.

“Oh, uh. Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Mm...kay?” When he didn’t say anything, just kept staring at her, she spoke up again. “What were you gonna tell me?”

“Oh! Right. Yeah. That. Right.”

“Right. That,” Mabel agreed with a nod, as if she had the slightest idea what he was talking about (note: she did not, in fact, have the slightest idea what he was talking about).

“So, there’s this thing,” Dipper said again.

“Right,” Mabel repeated.

“This thing… that I’ve been kinda meaning to tell you for… well,” he laughed hoarsely. She’d never heard him laugh like that before. “For a few years, actually.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Errhm. Okay. What is it?”

“Okay, so it’s like this,” he started, then stopped and looked up at the sky. “Why me?” He muttered, so quiet she almost didn’t hear him again.

“Okay, Dip, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

He sighed and stopped walking. So did she. His eyes were closed, which was probably a good thing because they really were terribly distracting and whatever he had to tell her seemed pretty important. He turned his face to her again, opening them, something… different in them. Something she’d never seen before. Something she didn’t recognize.

Something urgent and terrifying and nerve-wracking in a way she didn’t entirely understand, and then-

“Kids!” Her dad called out, both parents jogging over to them. Well, okay, it was more like running. Why would they be running? They hadn’t been that far behind, yeesh.

“Shit,” Dipper muttered again, and Mabel turned to him in surprise. He’d tried to talk to her before, too. Before she’d left for Candy’s. Why? What was going on? Was he sick? If he was sick, why couldn’t he tell their parents? Oh god, what if he’d gotten an STD? What if he’d gotten somebody pregnant? No, wait, pregnancy didn’t last “a few years”, which he had said very clearly, so not that. Oh, fuckity fucking fuck, what if he’d found his soulmate?

“What’re you guys talkin’ about?” Their mom asked with a smile that was a bit too tight and didn’t reach her eyes.

Dipper shrugged. “School and whatnot. Just catching up.”

Mabel didn’t understand why he was lying, but, well. Mabel Pines ain’t no snitch, so she nodded and said, “yeppers yeppers Johnny Deppers! The usual, y’know.”

Mr. Pines inclined his head. Mrs. Pines was clasping his hand.

Her knuckles were white.

Their parents didn’t let their children out of their sight for the remainder of the hike.

Mabel could barely speak. She couldn’t even think much of anything.

What if he’d found his soulmate?

The bees never shut up, either.

#gravity falls fanfiction #gf fanfiction #pinecest #mabel pines #dipper pines #fanfiction #fanfic #looks like someone picked a whole bushel of oopsie daisies #my writing

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mackeydoodledoo · 4 years

Text

Two Different Types of Musicians

Pairing: Jesy Nelson x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You're a musician who plays instruments, so you are a renowned Guitarist, Bassist and of many other instruments however, mainly guitar and bass. Jesy Nelson is most known for being in the British girl group; Little Mix. In Little Mixs' upcoming tour, their managers and producers want to pick the best of the best musicians to help them with this tour. One of them happens to be you....

Warnings: Past Trauma

A/N: This is in 1st person

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As I step out if the gate, I grab some food. I grab my big suitcase and my guitar and begin making my way to the exit of the airport. I hail a cab to head to the O2 arena and I pay with the money I was able to convert for England.

"What’s the occasion you're here for?" The cab driver asks

"For a Tour," I answer, trying to not have the guy ask too many questions

He doesn't ask many more, thank god. And so I step out as soon as I grab my guitar from the trunk and take out my "Tour member" pass. However as soon as I close the trunk, I recognize one of the Little Mix members outside. I saw a swarm of fans beginning to form around her; security guards trying to keep them back. I slowly begin snaking around the crowd however, more people just keep on coming. However once I make it through, she spots me and smiles and walks over. She takes my hand and rushes back inside.

"How was your flight love?" Jesy asks

"Oh it was pretty laid back," I start, "But I am absolutely slap-happy!"

Jesy turns to look at me, confused at whatvi said.

"Slap-happy is a band term back home," I smile

She smiles with me and continues to lead me to the stage area. There I see Perrie, Leigh-Anne and Jade. If im going to be honest I didn't think I'd get to go on tour with Little Mix. Or any type of band for that matter.

"So you're the one excellent Guitar player our manager hand picked?" Jade comes up to me and gives me a hug

I give one back and to the same to the rest of the girls and I get introduced to the live band.

"So what do you have for us to show off your amazing skills?" Perrie asks

I smirk and click my tongue and gently place my guitar case down and proceed to take her out. Her name is Shelby Toro. Her body color is a Silver Base with medium to large sparkles and a Deep Ocean Blue racing stripe vinyl. She's a Fender/Squier Jazzmaster. She has a Squier body/hardware and a Fender Jazzmaster neck. She has a black woven designed strap. I plug in my wireless system transmitters and play a C chord and begin tuning her. As soon as she's tuned, I call out to the sound system people and tell them to play "Bulletproof heart" by My Chemical Romance. I put in a headset that also plays the song so I can listen to the lyrics. Because I already have the riff memorized. Everyone begins making their way to the audience and begin watching me.

Gravity

Don't mean too much to me

I'm who I've got to be

These pigs are after me

After you

Run away

Like it was yesterday

And we can run away

If we could run away

Run away from here

I begin to play the power chord and begin jamming out to the music and begin getting into it. I notice everyone has their jaw on the floor. Especially Jesy. I kneel down and begin making eye contact with her. I could see the sparkles from my guitar in her eyes. I couldn't help but smile at her.

I gotta Bulletproof Heart

You gotta Hallow point smile

We had our run away scarves

Got a photograph dream on the getaway mile

I wanted to hold her hand as I sing to her however, my right hand is strumming and my left had is making the notes. So, I give her a wink and a kiss, feeling in the moment of the music. I stand up and begin to close my eyes, letting the music take me into my place, both of my hands instinctively playing the lead guitar riff, letting the song sing itself out. Once the solo arrives, I turn myself around and begin backbending. Letting my back bend me as far as it'll go without me falling backward. As the solo begins to end, I bend myself back up and put my foot on one of the floor lights as I ring out the last note of the solo. Once I ring out the last note of the song, I watch Perrie, Leigh-Anne, Jade and Jesy run up on stage as I put my guitar on a stand. Jesy practically jumps into my arms and I stumble back.

"That was amazing," she says, "How did you do that with the backbending, and the part where you closed your eyes and began feeling the music?"

"Been playing for years now," I smile, "Perks of being a band kid."

I settle myself into the back with all of the other live band members and they all begin congratulating me on a really great performance.

Once rehearsal ends, we all head back to the airport to Paris, France for the opening night of the tour.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?" Jade says

As I lock my case and stand up as I loop the case strap around me.

"I saw how Jesy looked at you during your initiation performance," Jade starts, "I'm supposed to sit next to her but I think she'll have a great time on the plane ride next to you."

"Thanks Jade," I smile, switching our tickets

I catch up to Jesy.

"Hey love," she says, "Would you wanna grab food when we get to Paris?"

"Oh for sure," I smile

I unintentionally hold onto Jesy's hand as we begin trying to sweep through the crowd to get to the cars. But I follow Jesy closely as she begins signing as many autographs as she can give.

"Is it true you two are going to go steady?" A fan asks

Jesy blushes as I look at them confused. And I remember our joined hands.

"Um no," I stutter, "We literally just met today."

However, I feel a pair of lips press lightly on my cheek. I look at her and she gives out her signature witch laugh. I blush. Not because of the light cheek kiss, but because of her laugh. I really enjoyed listening to it when I watch a compilation of their funny moments. The fans screech and cheer as Jesy drags me to the car to head to the airport.

"What was that for?" I ask

"Just for giggles," she laughs, "besides I think you liked it too. Seeing how red you went."

"Shut up," I laugh, gently nudging her in the shoulder.

I watch the city lights go by as we drive tk the airport. However, I feel Jesy lean into me. She must've had a long day.... Same here love. I gently wrap my arm around her to give her a more comfortable pillow as we wait.

We finally reach the airport, again, a handful of fans try to get photos with them or want autographs. I catch up with the rest of the live band and we head inside of the airport, no one really paid any attention to us. As we wait inside, I scroll through my phone when I feel a pair of hands slowly coiling around my waist. I almost jump and accidentally elbow Jesy in the face.

"Oh, God you scared me," I laugh, "How'd that go out there?"

"Chaotic," Jesy laughs

I laugh with her and we make our way to our gate to go to Paris. I put Shelby Toro with my suitcase and pay the extra whatever it costed. I hold onto Jesy's hand again as we continue to our gate. As we sit in the terminal area, I yawn.

"Jet lag?" Perrie asks

"Well I'm just tired in general Perrie," I crack my knuckles

Jesy gently rubs my back and I'm going to be honest.... It was therapeutic. Especially when Jesy rolls her thumb against my back.

Once we finally get on the plane and land in Paris, Jesy hails a cab for us two and get breakfast somewhere. The show didn't start until the day after tomorrow so we had a little bit of time to chill.

"So.... I understand you've been having rough times," I start, "We don't have to talk about it here or in general if you don't feel comfortable."

"Somewhere else would be lovely," Jesy says

"I don't mean to hop right into that but, I understand how you felt, or even still feel to this day," I state

Jesy looks at me, not like Stop Talking but as if she's interested in my story.

"Well," I clear my throat, "it started when I was in high school. It was my second year and i am thriving with some new friends I've made. They were new to the school and so I was like 'oh they're cool I wanna be friends with them!' And we hit it off well and when I started showing them how I usually am. Especially with the high school marching band, they stopped talking to me all of a sudden. In a panic, I was trying to ask them what was wrong, if I made them mad or if I did something wrong. One of them told me I did nothing wrong but then proceeds to block me. Next day I couldn't talk to them and then I get called to the counseling office. I'm ushered into a small office space just to be told, how I act around my trusted people was wrong and that I should have stopped.-"

I clearly begin feeling slight tears forming into my eyes but I try my best to not show how much it hurt around Jesy.

"And I sobbed in that confined room and I wanted to leave but the counselor didn't let me," I continue. "So I forced myself to stop crying and I left. The next few months I felt really depressed and.... I-it was the first time I had suicidal thoughts. That's all I've been thinking about and no matter how many times my close friends tried to comfort me I always revert back to being depressed and wanting to no longer feel the pain I felt."

I feel a thumb gently wipe across my cheek and her other thumb gently stroking the back of my hand.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry that happened to you," she says

"However, I am doing better than I did at that time," I state, "But more important question, are you okay?"

Jesy just looks at me.... I was about to open my mouth when Jesy opens hers.

"I'm quite alright," she answers, "Thanks love."

"I really should be thanking you," I say, "Thanks for listening to my whole shit show."

"I don't want anyone going down a dark path love," she says, "I'm here for you."

We make eye contact and I was about to make a comment before I heard a phone ring. It was Jesy's. We were requested back to the rehearsal venue and we take a taxi to the venue.

The two of us walk in and I already see the drummer setting up my guitar.

"Thanks dude!" I call out

He gives me a thumbs up and goes back to his drumset.

"Did you two enjoy your date?" Jade asks, teasing me

"Yes we did it sweetheart," Jesy answers but in a joking tone

Knowing myself, I'm oblivious if someone likes me and is showing me by flirting or they're just being nice. I nod along and I walk over to tune my guitar.

Tour goes amazingly, crowd is always awesome and the girls tend to give us the spotlight. Every other night the girls would want us to play a couple of songs. And mostly for the encore we all agreed to just have a little mix out on stage. We're fine with that as we need a break too. We were in the final show, which was using the UK, easy for the girls to go home.

"You alright love?" Jesy comes up to me

"Yeah," I answer, stretching out my wrists, "I never thought I'd be touring with any sort of band. So cross that off my bucket list."

Before I leave to warm up with the live band, I tuck hair behind my ear and plant a gentle kiss in Jesy's cheek.

"Good luck love," I say, mimicking Jesy's accent

"That was really good actually," Jesy laughs

That damn laugh again.... She might have it but I love it. A natural laugh is the best kind of laugh to hear. The both of us part ways for now.

#jesy nelson #we love you jesy #little mix #jesy nelson x reader #little mix imagine #jesy nelson imagine #female guitarist #lm imagines #leigh anne pinnock #perrie edwards #jade thirlwall #rock music

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realkingjjofwonderland · 4 years

Text

tiny fractures | jeon jungkook

pairing: jeon jungkook x childhood friend male!reader

word count: 1485

description: jungkook and (M/n) have known each other since birth, both even growing to have the same dream. But due to busy schedules, things fall apart.

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a/n: the title is because i got the idea for this while listening to fractures by illenium, also sorry if this one isn’t the best, i’m still getting back into the swing of writing these and for some reason inspiration doesn’t hit me until 1 am ??? anywho, there will probably be a part two of this up either this week or next week so check in for that if you want to ^^

=============================================================

“So, I got a second audition…”

(M/n) and Jungkook had been playing Super Smash Bros Brawl when Jungkook had said that. The news had shocked (M/n) so much that he ended up falling off the edge of the map. “That’s a good thing, right?” (M/n) questioned, glancing toward his friend who didn’t seem as excited as one would normally be.

“Yeah… well, it was until I realized if I do make it then we won’t be able to hang out like this anymore.” Jungkook sighed out, looking at (M/n) as the later paused the game. “I wish you could come with me.”

“Hey, just because you made it through and I didn’t doesn’t mean we won’t ever meet up in Seoul.” (M/n) gave Jungkook a bright smile as he shoved him lightly. “Don’t count me out yet, rockstar!”

“I thought we agreed to stop calling me that?” Jungkook groaned out, slouching against (M/n)’s bed.

“You may have agreed, but I signed nothing.” (M/n) smirked as he scooted closer to his friend, resting a head on his shoulder. “Look, when you make it through-”

“If.” Jungkook corrected, earning a stern look from (M/n).

“When you make it in, you’ll be one more step closer toward your dream. Do not hold yourself back just because of me.” (M/n) turned his gaze to Jungkook’s hand, noticing he was fidgeting with his fingers. “I plan on trying out at SM’s and JYP’s auditions that are coming up, so who knows, maybe I’ll be on my way soon as well. But, even if it doesn’t work out for me, do you really think I won’t make the trip to come see you whenever you have the time?”

“Promise?” Jungkook mumbled, turning his head to look at (M/n) as he held up his pinky finger. (M/n) didn’t even hesitate to wrap his pinky around Jungkook’s, giving him the brightest smile he could muster.

“Promise.”

When Jungkook had given (M/n) the call and told him he passed his second audition and was going to have the third one be very soon, (M/n) really wished he could have been more excited. While he was truly happy for his friend, the looming factor that (M/n) didn’t get to give Jungkook a proper goodbye hung over him heavily.

What if he doesn’t come home before moving into a dorm?

What if he isn’t able to see him again for months, or even years?

What if Jungkook forgets about (M/n)?

The last thought made (M/n) physically cringe, mumbling a ‘Stop that.’ to himself. He knew Jungkook, he knew that he would never let something like that happen. They’d known each other since birth, their parents were best friends, so there was no way their friendship would be destroyed by something as silly as distance or time.

Right?

The day BTS debuted, (M/n) was laying on the floor of the JYP practice room, struggling to catch his breath. He heard a few people mention a new boy group and so (M/n) decided to look them up, not expecting to see his old best friend almost right off the bat. It had been what felt like ages since the two last spoke, even if it had only been barely a year since their last conversation. It was still ironic to (M/n) that they were in the same city, yet the last time he had seen Jungkook in person was the day Jungkook left Busan. (M/n) became a trainee a few months after Jungkook, and after that they both barely had the time to talk. He tried to be understanding, especially since his own schedule was jam packed, but it still hurt to lose such a close friend. Especially when (M/n)’s mother would constantly ask if the two had met up and started talking again.

“Yo, (L/n)! Wanna grab some food with us?”

(M/n) looked up to see a few of his friends standing at the door, all with varying looks of concern on their faces as they looked at him. “Yeah, let me just grab my stuff!” (M/n) forced a smile onto his face, not wanting to worry any one, before standing up. After grabbing his things and making his way toward the elevator as his friends resumed whatever conversation they were having before, (M/n) found himself pulling his phone out to look at the video again.

“Oh, is that the group that just debuted today?” BamBam asked as he looked over (M/n)’s shoulder, an excited smile on his face. “Hopefully we can debut soon too.”

“You kidding me, Bam?” Chan snorted as he turned around, walking backwards. “I’ll be surprised if you guys aren’t in a group by next year.”

“You’ll debut soon too, Chan.” (M/n) grinned softly, watching as Bam draped an arm around Chan’s shoulder. “Maybe you and I will end up in a group together since Bam’s in that group with Mark, Jackson, and Gyeom.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Chan let out a weak laugh at that, but (M/n) made sure to get a smile out of him by poking his cheeks.

Even if (M/n) still felt hurt by the loss of his and Jungkook’s friendship, he was glad he at least had those two by his side.

“Will you just calm down already?” One of (M/n)’s members sighed as he paced around the room. “You do know the likelihood of you being anywhere near him is extremely low? We’re a baby group compared to them.”

“Hey, Chunsoo?” (M/n) stopped his pacing to look at him, waving his hands a bit. “Not helping.”

“I’m being serious, dude. You’re overreacting.” Chunsoo huffed as another member, Taehwan, stood up to grab (M/n)’s arm.

“We should still be able to roam the hall for a bit, let’s go for a walk. Maybe it’ll help your nerves?” Taehwan offered, smiling softly when (M/n) nodded. “We can even stop by GOT7’s room and say hi.”

“That sounds good.” (M/n) sighed out as he let Taehwan lead him out the door.

Almost immediately after they left the room, (M/n) found himself running into someone else by accident. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” (M/n) squeaked out, jumping back to make sure the other person was okay. He nearly screamed out loud when he saw just who it was.

“It’s alright, I should’ve been paying better-” Jungkook seemed to choke on his words when he actually looked at (M/n)’s face, eyes growing wide. “(M/n)? You’re… I didn’t know…”

“Oh, yeah…” (M/n) chuckled nervously as he noticed Taehwan backing up into the room with wide eyes, sending him a pleading look that (M/n) knew was futile. “We debuted a year ago.”

“No I meant- I didn’t know you guys were going to be here.” Jungkook breathed out, a sheepish smile slipping onto his face. “I uh, I actually saw your debut the day it came out…”

“Wait- really?” (M/n) was genuinely surprised to hear that, feeling a bit bad for thinking Jungkook would forget about him. “What did you think…?”

“It was really good. I’m… I’m sorry I never reached out...to uh- to tell you sooner.” They both were well aware what Jungkook actually meant, (M/n) even going as far as to grab Jungkook’s hand when he noticed he was playing with his fingers.

“Don’t apologize, you’re not the only one with access to a phone.” (M/n) mumbled, eyes locked onto their hands. “I should have reached out when you debuted, rockstar.”

“Oh god please don’t start calling me that.” Jungkook laughed, ducking his head down to catch (M/n)’s eyes. “I’m glad we bumped into each other, do you have a line account?”

“Oh, yeah I do-” (M/n) had to blink a few times as his brain short circuited slightly from Jungkook’s face being so close. He quickly pulled out his phone, unlocking it and handing it to Jungkook. When it was handed back to him, he saw Jungkook had sent himself a message.

“Let’s go out to eat some time to celebrate our debuts, on me.” Without giving (M/n) time to even agree, Jungkook was being escorted back to his room by one of the security guards that (M/n) hadn’t even noticed before.

As (M/n) entered his group’s room, they all swarmed him asking various questions about what happened and whether or not they were friends again, but (M/n) was still stuck on the fact that Jungkook still cared enough about him to pay attention to when he debuted. He still checked up on him. He still cared.

And just like that, (M/n) was beyond stoked for the evening his group had ahead of them.

#jeon jungkook #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan boys #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x male reader #jeon jungkook x male reader #bts x reader #bts x male reader #imagine #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #kpop imagine #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #angst if you squint

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pengychan · 4 years

Text

[Batman: TAS] Clockwork, Pt. 1

Summary: To say the Clock King was pleased to see Hamilton Hill lose his bid for re-election would be an understatement - but suddenly nothing in Gotham is on time anymore, and he has to choose the lesser evil. Characters: Temple Fugate, Hamilton Hill Rating: K

A/N: Happy birthday, @vampirenaomi! If you wondered about my radio silence these days, this was why. I was hoping to get the entire thing done by today, but I couldn’t make it. Will do my best to get the second and final part done by Christmas! (Also, little heads-up for everyone: the plot bunny for this thing actually hit me a long time ago and I promise the election fraud plotline in it has nothing to do with the insanity currently going on in the States.)

***

“Freeze!”

The order comes a quarter of a second after the first cop reaches the roof, predictable as the stroke of midday that will follow in precisely twenty-five seconds. The Clock King estimates it will take him exactly another fifteen seconds to reach the ledge, at which point he will have ten more to turn and throw in a mocking comment before his ride arrives.

Excellent. His plan has been running as smoothly as sand in an hourglass.

“I said freeze!”

Temple Fugate entirely ignores the order and keeps walking to the ledge, pocketing his watch and twirling his cane in his free hand. It is an unspoken rule in Gotham, it seems, to do anything but freeze whenever you’re told to. It only occasionally works - not in a pattern he’s been able to reliably discern, to his annoyance - when it’s Batman to give the order. Or, well, Mr. Freeze, for reasons that should be quite obvious.

An interesting fellow, that one. Intellectually gifted - he wouldn’t mind conversing with, provided that he leaves his freezing gun at the door. Fugate generally pays little mind to his colleagues, even less after having to endure the indignity of being referred to as the White Rabbit by Mr. Tetch - a comparison that he found nothing short of insulting, because he is never late. Not anymore.

Not since the one time he was late and lost everything. But he’s getting it back, one timepiece at a time. The one he just took back from the museum is a priceless one, which he acquired by sheer luck only months before he was forced to sell every single piece he ever collected to pay--

“Stay where you are!”

The Clock King reaches the ledge, turns, and gives the three cops walking towards him with their guns drawn a tip of his hat. He might have thrown an explosive watch or two at them, of course he came prepared, but they are still far away enough he knows he needs not bother. Even if they decided to sprint now, they would never get to him on time.

“Apologies, gentlemen, but I must decline your invite to stay. I have a lot of lost time to make up for,” he declares, and lets himself fall back exactly at the strike of midday. He straightens himself in mid-air, knees bent to prepare for landing on the roof of the eleven-fifty-eight train downtown going through the elevated tracks right no--

Except that there is no train beneath him. Fugate falls past the exact point where a train should be and is thrown entirely off balance. By the time he does connect with something, it’s with his left shoulder first.

“Aagh!”

He cries out, more in outrage than actual pain - though there is pain, train tracks are extremely unpleasant to pull upon from a height - and sits up, dazed, trying to make sense of that nonsense. He looks around, ascertain that there is, indeed, no train in sight. What… what just happened? The eleven-fifty-eight train is always, always precisely two minutes late.

Where is it now? It can’t have been on time, he would have heard it rushing past. Is it even more late than usual? Has it broken down? Has the schedule changed? This is an outrage - is nothing in this world reliable anymore?

“Hey! Are you all right, uh… sir?”

Fugate looks up, and sees the three cops looking down at him from the roof of the museum. “It’s Clock King to you,” he snaps, though without much venom. That is… a rather civil enquiry, and he sees no reason not to be equally civil. “I have had softer landings, but I’ll live,” he mutters, standing up and rubbing his battered shoulder. The one talking, the big one, looks relieved.

“Good! Listen, uh, Mr…”

“Clock King! It’s not that complicated!”

“Right, right. Mr. Clock King, don’t go anywhere - we’ll get you help.”

Of course, on account of not having been born yesterday - his birth took place fifty-seven years, ninety-two days and approximately seven hours ago - Fugate has no intention to wait there until they get help. “Ah, I believe I have to decline your offer, unfortunately, and be on my wa--”

“No, look - things are never so bad. Don’t do this. You’re in a dark place, but it won’t last.”

He pauses, taken aback. Their tactics to get fugitives to surrender certainly seemed to have changed since last time. “... Come again?”

“Get off the tracks, there is no reason to do anything drastic. I am sure we can help - professionals can help.”

The cop standing right next to him - the third is surely coming down the building heading his way - nods in agreement. “It’s going to get better, okay? It will be all right.”

… Wait. Wait a moment.

Fugate sputters a moment, face ablaze as incredulity and outrage threaten to choke him. “Is this-- are you-- is this some kind of suicide prevention talk?” he yells, pointing up accusingly with his cane. “What in the world makes you think it is the appropriate response now?”

The two of them blink a moment, then exchange a glance before looking back down at him. “... You just jumped off a roof on the train tracks.”

“I am aware! But the eleven fifty-eight train is always exactly two minutes late! Is should have been--”

His words are covered by a warning cry from one of the cops first, then vibrations on the tracks, and finally by a dreadful, loud horn.

Ah. There it is.

Right after turning to see the eleven fifty-eight train rushing towards him, Temple Fugate has enough time to make two calculations: the first is that it’s five minutes late, which is entirely unacceptable. The second is that he has approximately nine seconds to get off the tracks before he’s turned into something resembling strawberry jam, which is highly concerning.

He doesn’t quite manage to estimate precisely by how many seconds he manages to avoid that fate, but later on he decides that is probably for the best.

***

Hamilton Hill, former Mayor of Gotham City, is rather enjoying his retirement.

Well. Perhaps losing re-election for Mayor and spending most of his time in his mansion to lick his wounds is not precisely what most people would consider a vacation, but saying he is ‘taking some time to spend with his family’ got most attention off his back for now.

There is the fact he’s been divorced fifteen years and Jordan is off to college, so the house is empty aside for himself and some domestic staff, but that isn’t something the general public needs to know. He needs some time, is all, to recover from a loss that was unexpected as it was painful, and then to figure out where he’s going from here.

Back to practicing law, probably. He enjoyed that. Maybe returning to the courtroom having to worry only about the fate of the person he represente and not the entire city will do him good. Gotham is far from an easy city to serve as Mayor, so much so that some of his closest friends delicately suggested he belonged in Arkham for just wanting the job. And maybe they were not too far off, Hill muses. Maybe losing the election was a blessing in disguise.

… Maybe he needs another glass of port.

He is pouring himself said glass when the glass door leading to the balcony opens, letting in a gust of cold wind. That could mean a number of things in Gotham: that the latch of the window was not closed properly, that a criminal is breaking in, that Batman is breaking in.

All three things have happened remarkably often in the past decade or so, and Hill simply got used to visits from a masked vigilante, or the occasional kidnapping scheme that would later be foiled by said masked vigilante, so he’s not overly worried. But perhaps, as he no longer is the Mayor, this is simply a matter of closing the glass door properly and--

“Hill,” a voice proclaims.

Well. It was not the latch.

Hamilton Hill makes the decision to gulp down half the glass before he turns. “Mr. Fugate,” he greets politely, before his eyes even rest on the figure standing rigidly on the balcony. He recognized his voice quite well, of course. When someone tries to squish you between the hands of a giant clock, you do tend to remember what they sound like. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

Temple Fugate lets out a noise of mild disgust. “I highly doubt you’re any more pleased to see me than I am to see you,” he informs him, stepping inside. “But as the situation in Gotham City is most dire--”

Hill downs the rest of the glass. Fugate trails off, then reaches into his pocket to pull out - of course - a watch. He stares at it for a moment before he looks back up at Hill, at the glass in his hand, at the liquor cabinet he’s standing at. “It’s eleven thirty-two in the morning,” he finally informs him.

“So it is.”

“Not even noon yet.”

“And…?”

“Don’t and me, Hill! Isn’t it-- far too early to be drinking whatever it is you’re drinking?”

Ah, Gotham truly was like no other city, was it? The only place where a man who kidnapped and tried to kill you can later show up to lecture over socially acceptable times for alcohol consumption, without any self-awareness whatsoever. Hill supposes Fugate truly is a man born in the wrong time: he would have been right at home during prohibition. He considers voicing that thought, but in the end he shrugs.

“I’m only having a glass. I’m not drinking myself into a stupor.”

“Your demeanour suggests otherwise.” Fugate frowns, or at least it looks like he’s frowning. It’s hard to tell, with those glasses, but he seems mildly offended. “A reasonable reaction upon seeing me would be fear,” he adds, pointing towards him with that curious cane of his, part sword and part clock hand. “Possibly a scream, if not too drawn out or grating, followed by an attempt at running for your life.”

Ah, here comes the lecture in proper hostage etiquette. “Let me reassure you, it is not down to alcohol,” Hill informs him, putting down the empty glass. Honest to God, he would be more worried if he found himself facing a run-of-the-mill goon with a gun; people like that are more likely to simply shoot you dead. But those like the Clock King, or the Joker or whoever was out in the streets that week? They would come up with an elaborate scheme that gave Batman plenty of time to intervene.

Maybe the best course of action would be to stall for more time, until Batman does intervene.

“Don’t take it personally, Fugate, but I have been Mayor of Gotham for too long not to get used to some things,” Hill adds. “No Tuesday is complete without at least an attempt at kidnapping me.”

The frown turns into something closer to disgust. “It’s Monday, Hill. have you truly lost all sense of time?”

“Happens when you’re on holiday, I suppose. I am no longer Mayor of Gotham City.”

“I am aware. About that--”

“I am a private citizen with a lot of time on my hands.”

“Not for long!” Fugate snaps, stepping forward with the cane pointed at Hill’s chest. Ah, yes, there come the death threats and-- “You must return into office!”

… Wait. What? Hill blinks, and moves the cane aside with one arm to look at the Clock King’s face more closely. “... Come again?”

“Are you deaf? I am here to make sure you take back your office.”

Who are you, Hill thinks, and what have you done to Fugate?

“Are you well?” he finds himself asking instead, and Fugate groans, throwing up his arms. The cane very nearly knocks a very expensive lamp right off the nearest table.

“Of course I’m not! Two months with a new Mayor, and this entire city is in shambles, Hill!”

That’s not exactly what Hill expected to hear. He has been told that his replacement made a few… questionable choices, appointing questionable people in delicate roles, and there have been some complaints - but no account he’s heard so far made the situation sound quite that dire. Not that he doesn’t get some vindication over being told that the man who ousted him is making a dreadful mess of things.

“Is it now?”

“Of course it is!” Temple Fugate paces back and forth, features twisted in what’s nothing short of anguish. “Nothing - and I do mean, nothing - is on time anymore! The trains, the buses, everything is all over the place!”

“Yes, I did hear that the public transport office had an overhaul--”

“Not that your administration was ever able to make things run on time,” Fugate cuts him off, clearly not inclined to hear a single word from him at the moment. “But most things were reliably late. There was a schedule, there was a pattern! Now there’s nothing but chaos! How am I meant to carry on in such a world?”

Hill opens his mouth to suggest he loosens up, remembers what happened last time he advised him as much, and chooses not to. “Surely, it is not quite that bad--”

“Yesterday there was the inauguration of a new mall. It was meant to be at midday - the ribbon was cut almost sixteen minutes late, Hill! What sort of administration is sixteen minutes late?”

"Yes, that is, er. Absolutely unacceptable,” Hill says. He knows better than dismissing it as something minor, considering that it’s distressing Fugate enough to make him turn to the man he probably despises the most in the entire world. “However, there isn’t much I can do--”

“Once you’re the Mayor again, you can put things in order,” Template declares, pointing at his chest with his cane again. “And everything will be just as it was before. Until I exact my revenge on you, that is. Which will be--” he pauses, and a look of discomfort crosses his features at the realization he doesn’t have a set time for that. “... Soon,” he finishes, not very threateningly.

Hill frowns, pushing the razor-sharp tip of the cane away from his rather expensive shirt and, rather more importantly, the general vicinity of vital organs. “Fugate, as much as I’d like to help you - possibly with better results than last time I attempted to - there is nothing I can do. I lost my bid for re-election. I cannot just waltz in my old office and declare--”

“You can,” Fugate cuts him off once more.

“Yes, I suppose I could, only to be arrested before--”

“This election was rigged.”

Hill trails off, his brain grinding to a halt. “... Come again?” he hears himself muttering, searching Fugate’s face for any sign that he may be joking despite his strong suspicion that Fugate is simply incapable of uttering a joke. All he gets is an annoyed hum.

“Get your hearing checked,” the Clock King mutters irritably. “Surely you must have suspected it.”

He didn’t, not really. The race was rather close from the start, his opponent a new face who made plenty of promises Hill already knew he would be unable to keep but which, apparently, many couldn’t resist; alluring lies often hold more sway than less glamorous truths. He’d thought he would win, sure enough, but that it would be narrow. So his defeat by a rather small margin had been… a surprise, sure enough, but not something he’d thought beyond the realms of possibility.

“I… not really.”

“Hmph.” Fugate scoffs, and sits on the nearest armchair. He may very well be sitting on a stool, because he doesn’t lean back: he remains upright, back rigid, both hands on the handle of his cane. “Unexpectedly gullible for someone sly enough to engineer my demise.”

Oh, for God’s sake. “I engineered nothing. I only suggested you took your coffee break fifteen minutes later than usual because you were so tense--”

“The plaintiffs were represented by your law firm! Am I supposed that your advice making me late for the court date was a coincidence, Hill?”

“Yes, because it was! I had nothing to do with that case, I knew nothing about it - it was only some advice in a conversation you started in the first place.”

The last statement seems to hit a nerve, and there is something on Fugate’s face, a twitch that passes immediately but doesn’t go unnoticed. After all, Hamilton Hill built his career on being able to take note of every telling twitch and expression shown by witnesses and defendants. “... You have thought of that, haven’t you? That it was yourself to start talking that morning, not myself. There was no plan nor conspiracy. You were not targeted. It was a terrible coincidence-”

Fugate’s hands clench on the handle of his cane, so tight the knuckles go white. His jaw clenches before he speaks, words cold and clipped. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“It all happened by chance. Out of your control. Accidents happen whether or not we believe--”

“Silence!” Fugate snaps, tapping his cane on the hardwood floor and likely leaving a hole in it. “I will get you back for it, mark my words, but this is not the reason why I’m here. And you have already wasted--” a pause to check his pocket watch. “Fifteen minutes of my time. Now, do you want to hear what I know, or not?”

Hill sighs, and sits on the armchair across him. “How do you know the election was rigged?”

“I crunched the numbers. Something is not adding up.”

“My entire campaign team crunched the numbers--”

“People who were not me,” Fugate cuts him off, a sharp edge to his voice. “And who forgot to keep an eye on the time.”

Ah, of course. Of course it was going to boil down to time.

Hamilton Hill can feel the beginning of a violent headache starting to build up behind his eyes. “All right, I’ll hear you out.”

“You’d better.”

The headache immediately spikes a notch. Hill glances back at the liquor cabinet, thinking he could use another glass of port. “Can I offer--”

“I do not drink. Certainly not before noon.” Fugate’s voice sure is full of judgment for someone who goes around with glasses looking like the face of a clock, stealing timepieces from auction houses and museums and throwing around explosive pocket watches.

“... Right. Coffee?”

“I have my coffee at three in the afternoon. On the dot,” is the stiff reply. “As you very well know.”

Hill almost considers asking why not three-fifteen, then his gaze falls on the razor-sharp tip of the Clock King’s cane and he decides against it.

“... Very well,” he finally says, leaning back on his armchair. “Tell me what you’ve found.”

***

The key, as it’s the case with most things in life, was in the timing.

It was something easily overlooked by most people who poured over the election result, exit polls and whatnot, but Fugate found the answer by painstakingly looking through the transcript of all votes registered by the brand new voting machines, which allowed one to give their vote at the press of a button. There were no names, nor details to match individual voters to any vote, but he found something better.

On each of them, he found timestamps.

One of the tenets of Temple Fugate’s existence is that everything has a chronological order. Everything has a discernible pattern. And where order and pattern are disrupted, it can only mean one thing: human intervention. Bumbling, chaotic, life-ruining human intervention, like sand in the cogs or a too-jovial councillor suggesting a break fifteen minutes later. Fugate has seen human intervention at work more times than he’d have liked.

But until he began looking into this, he had never seen anything quite like it.

“So something is wrong with the… timestamps?”

Unsurprisingly, former Mayor Hamilton Hill is having trouble keeping up with his explanation. “Yes. In the districts of Gotham where you were expected to perform better, the pattern was disrupted.” Fugate pulls out his notes from the breast pocket of his jacket and hands them to Hill, who opens the folded pieces of paper to take a long look. “Your team poured over nonsense like age, or gender, or race and class--”

“It isn’t nonsense, it helps predict--”

“But none of them,” Fugate speaks a little louder, cutting off whatever nonsense he was about to spew, “looked at the time in which each vote was cast. One after another, polling stations in each of those districts had precisely a two-hour window during which not one vote was cast in your favor.”

Hill blinks down at his notes, adjusting his glasses as though to see better. “What? Not one?”

“Not a single one, you can check the timestamps yourself. Just read - the pattern is clear.”

He sees it, Fugate can tell from the way his eyes widen. He may be dense, but not so dense that he couldn’t see the pattern now that it had been pointed out to him. He stands and begins pacing back and forth, eyes glued to Fugate’s notes.

“I think, these polling places-- I would need to look at a map to be certain, but--”

Well, he has picked that up on his own. If not stubbornly determined not to be impressed by anything this man does or say ever, Fugate could say he is impressed.

“No need. I already did, and saw what you are seeing now. This happened in polling stations close to each other. There was the first one downtown, then another a short distance away, then another a short distance away from that one… and so forth. It, whatever it was, moved across the city with brief pauses consistent with the time it would take to drive from one polling station to the next. This kept up for the entire two days the polls were open,” Fugate adds with no small amount of disapproval.

He sees no reason why the citizens of Gotham would need more than one day to pick their Mayor, but apparently the change was brought forward upon suggestion of Bruce Wayne, along with the decision to hold the vote over a weekend. Something about allowing more time to vote to people working long hours. How typical, catering to people who cannot be on time by giving them more time.

Unaware of his musings, Hill is still staring at the notes, then at him, then back at the notes. “I… how can it be?”

“Is it possible someone was able to sabotage the voting machines?”

Hill frowns, ceasing his pacing, and finally shakes his head. “I don’t believe so. Those machines were inspected before and after, and are not connected to any other device. They store all votes within their own memory and at the end of the day, the data is saved on an external device. There are witnesses for all candidates each time, to ensure everything is transparent.”

“Yes, that is what I suspected.” Fugate frowns, rubbing his chin. “I have looked for a link between your Mayor Sanderson and the company that manufactured the machines, but found none. Well then. This only leaves one option.”

Hill blinks, trying to think what he may mean and drawing a blank. “What option?”

“If the devices and therefore the votes were not manipulated, then the voters were. At least to a more extreme degree than they usually are during your campaigns.”

Hill gives him a look that somehow manages to be insulted, stunned, and confused at the same time. “I beg your pardon?”

“You may not have my pardon, Hill, but I will repeat myself,” is the dry reply. “You must agree this very clear pattern must have been the result of an external intervention. If the machines could not be compromised, then the people in the voting booths were.”

Hill stares. Opens his mouth. Closes his mouth. Stares some more.

“... Not that I don’t appreciate you keeping silent for once, but as I cannot read your mind--”

“Is this-- what are you exactly suggesting, Fugate? Some sort of mass bribery?”

“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous. Word could have got out immediately if such an attempt had taken place. I said the voters were manipulated, not bribed - were you not listening?”

A scoff. “Manipulated with what? Hypnosis?”

“You say that like no such thing occurred in Gotham before.”

For the second time in less than a minute - Fugate probably knows exactly how many seconds - Hill finds himself opening his mouth to speak and then closing it without uttering a single word. He is right, something remarkably similar did happen from time to time in Gotham, usually the work of… of…

“Now, I cannot imagine Mr. Tetch has any stake in this, but the man is not above selling his machinery for money. It is a possibility worth exploring, don’t you think?” Fugate says.

Tetch isn’t above giving people wildly unfitting and unrequired nicknames either - White Rabbit, the notorious latecomer, what an insult that has been - but that is beside the point at the moment, and Fugate doesn’t bring up that particular grievance.

“I… yes, I suppose it is,” Hill is muttering, looking at his notes over and over as though he thinks anything has changed while he wasn’t looking. “I should call the police, perhaps Commissioner Gordon--”

“Forget the police, they’re busy giving misguided anti-suicide speeches these days. Perhaps once you’re the Mayor again, you can see they are hired in Arkham.” Fugate stands, adjusting his tie. “I know exactly where to go to gain some intel.”

“... Right. I’ll get my coat.”

Fugate blinks. “... I beg your pardon?”

“It’s cold outside. I am not sure how you manage to stroll around with only a suit on, but--”

“Whatever gave you the idea that you are coming?”

“Why else would you show you up here to tell me all this?”

“To let you know what an imbecile you are for letting someone steal an election from you. Put that coat down-- Hill!” Fugate barks, but it’s too late: the coat is on and Hill is buttoning it up, looking back at him. Good God, he misses the days Hamilton Hill feared him.

“I am not about to leave you a choice, Fugate,” he says, much too flippantly for the Clock King’s taste. “This is personal. I am certain you of all people understand.”

“That’s not-- well--” Fugate is taken aback, fumbles for words. It is only a couple of instant, but it is enough for Hill to get coy.

“Good to see we reached an understanding. Are we going, or are you inclined to waste more time, mmh?”

The remark makes Fugate want to smack him with his cane, or better yet skewer him with it, but that would be rather counterproductive as a dead man cannot be elected Mayor and he needs Hill alive for… a little while longer. Just enough to fix the utter mess his successor has made of things. A sixteen minute delay on an inauguration, for God’s sake. How is anyone meant to live in such chaos?

The thought of ending that particular brand of chaos is what eventually stills Fugate’s hand. He takes in a deep breath, relaxing his grip on the cane. “... Very well. But you will do exactly as I say. No speaking, no initiatives. And if you’re going to take any advice from me, put your hat on and lose the glasses,” he adds, turning back towards the window. “The place we’re heading to is both rather cold and not someplace you’d want to be recognized if you wish to avoid a potential scandal.”

“Fugate?” Hill calls out, causing him to stop walking and look at him over his shoulder. Chickening out already, is he? He almost smirks, waiting to hear excuses as to why he has just realized he really cannot come with hi--

“You do realize we can get out through the door, right?” Hill says instead, pointing at the door behind himself with his thumb. Something about his raised eyebrow makes Fugate scowl.

“Well, it is not often I get the luxury to go through main doors, since you made me a wanted fugitive,” he mutters, crossing his arms.

“I thought I made you late.”

“It is the same thing!” the Clock King snaps, and stomps out of the room, using the window out of sheer spite.

#batman: tas #batman #mayor hill #clock king #batman: the animated series #temple fugate

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #345

“this is the year where hope fails you / the test subjects run the experiment / and the bastards you know, is the hero you hate”

Do you have any scars from burns? No. Have you ever built a snowman? Yes. Growing up, Dad would always help my sisters and I make them. Good memories. How about a sand castle? Yeah, but not any impressive ones at all. Just the ones where you fill a pail with sand and flip it over. Have you ever used crutches? Tried when I tore a ligament in my foot, but the pair we had were too tall for me to use them comfortably at all, so I never really "used" them. Have you ever been in a tree house? No. Would you ever move to China? No. Did you ever go to daycare as a kid? I went to one for literally a day because Mom was disgusted with how I was treated. I accidentally wandered into the wrong room or something and one of the guardians slapped my hand when she scolded me, and I think I sobbed the rest of the day, but partially because I had AWFUL separation anxiety from my mom. Afterwards, Mom just had people she knew babysit my sisters and me. Who’s one of the most talented people you know? What are they talented at? As for people who are still in my life/I still consider to "know," I'm unsure, but only because there are so many talented people in my life. One of my older sisters is a fantastic cake decorator and artist in general, and my little sister is truly skilled with working with children; she's a kid magnet. Sara is really good at animation, and I wish she'd do it more! Do you usually pay with cash, debit card, or credit card? Cash. I don't have a credit or debit card. Are you the type of person who can make friends with just about anyone? Yeah, but I have my limits. I'm very open-minded and can befriend people with a wide range of beliefs and personalities, but I know where to draw the line. There comes a point where giving your friendship to someone is like passively supporting their ways, and I don't want to do that if those are overwhelmingly negative and/or hateful. Have you ever experienced a medical emergency? Well yeah, I overdosed on cold medicine. I was surprisingly okay, but I assume it's because I was taken to the hospital fast enough for fluids? Idk. What was the last thing you borrowed from someone? Ummm no clue. Are you muscular? Uh, no. When you go to a restaurant, do you prefer to sit at a booth or a table? Booth. What’s something you think everyone should do/experience at least once in their life? Love. Has your car ever been broken into? I don't have a car, but neither of my parents' has been. Have you ever recorded yourself doing a cover of a song? No. Do you watch television shows more in the dark or the day time? I just don't watch TV. Are there any movies out there that basically make you want to puke? None that I've seen, no. But I won't watch The Human Centipede for this exact reason, as I KNOW it would make me hurl. Any secrets you’d never tell anyone? No matter how close they are to you? Yes. Do you consider yourself a promiscuous person? Not even slightly. Do you know anyone who has AIDS? What about yourself? I don't know anyone with it, no, and I don't have it either. Has anyone ever mistaken you to be a member of the opposite sex? No. What’s your favorite hair color on the opposite sex that you love? I like colored hair, but if we're talking natural colors, then black. Have you ever had a child before? If so, what’s his/her name? Nope, never gonna have one. Which baby animal is your favorite? Meerkats for sure. I also love kittens. Do you like jam on your toast and biscuits? Yeah. Are there any plants in your home? No. What food does honey go best with? *shrug* Have you ever carved a pumpkin? Yeah. Have you ever reread a book? I read Because of Winn-Dixie twice, and I've read Meerkat Manor: Flower of the Kalahari countless times, although after the first read, I skipped over Clutton-Brock's massive tangents that had nothing to do with meerkats. They really took away from the book, imo. Would you ever like to own a chandelier? Sure, like above the dinner table. It's not a big deal for me, though. What scent is the last body wash you used? Oh my god, it's this cinnamon bun scent that I got for I think my b-day, and I LOVE it. It's going to suck when it's gone. Do you have any religious symbols in your home? Probably somewhere, I just don't pay attention. What religion do you identify with, if any? None. Do you enjoy flavored coffee? If so, which flavor is your favorite? I don't like coffee at all. Do you know someone who has asthma? Yeah, my mom. What is the most controversial thing you’ve done? Come out as bi, I guess. Other than interviews, do you ever “dress to impress?" No. Are you currently listening to music? Yeah: "The Man Who Made a Monster" by Dance With the Dead. When was the last time you got really nervous? I should NOT be blanking on this, but I sure am. I don't think I've been REALLY nervous in a while, but certainly nervous like... always. What was the first thing you ate today? I had a bagel. Have you ever had one of those elementary-school boy/girlfriends? No; I didn't have my first boyfriend 'til the 7th grade. Name something random in your car: I don't have my own car. What do you want to tell someone who has died (and who is it, if anything)? I wish I could tell Steve Irwin thank you and that he truly did change the world. I think a lot about just how unspeakably proud he would be of his children and how madly in love he'd be with Bindi's newborn. That family is the definition of wholesome, and I desperately wish Steve was still around. Have you ever stolen from a friend or family member? Wow, no. Would/did you cheat on someone for revenge? Or if they wouldn’t find out? No, that's incredibly childish. If you got pregnant right now, would you keep the baby? The only way I could get pregnant right now was if I was, God fucking forbid, raped. I don't think I'd be able to keep it; it would scar me for life, but at the same time, even though I'm pro-choice, I don't know if I could go through with an abortion without feeling like shit and forever thinking "well you could've just given it up for adoption." I don't like thinking about this topic. Any history with eating disorders (or tendencies)? No, thankfully. I've had bulimic thoughts before, but I've never acted on them. Does your family have a secret? No. If single, would you knowingly be who someone cheats on someone else with? Nooope. Guilt would eat me alive. Have you ever contemplated physically hurting yourself or another? I have hurt myself, but never other people. Choose one living person you’d like to meet. I won't have lived a full life w/o meeting Mark at least once laksdj;flakwjer. Who is someone you know would take a bullet for you? My mom would without a millisecond's hesitation. I'm sure Dad would, too. The next time you are on an airplane, where will you be traveling to? Most likely Illinois to visit Sara again. Where is your dad from? Ohio. Aside from your own, whose house did you last set foot into? My older sister's. What is something that makes you very squeamish? Vomit is #1. Do you even use an alarm clock, or do you just use your phone? I use my phone. Have you ever moved to a different state? No. Lived in NC my whole life. Can you do long division in your head? I can't do math in my head period. Do you have a wide imagination? Oh yes. Would you mind living on a farm? I wouldn't want to. Farms take way too much maintenance. Do you enjoy watching horror films? Oh yeah. Have you ever been to Niagara Falls? No, but I'd love to. Who are you in love with? Nobody. When is the last time you took a picture? I took a picture of Venus like a week ago when I had her out of her terrarium and she was just coiled between my arm and the laptop, totally chillin' out. I was IN a picture just a couple days ago, because my eldest sister came over to visit with her husband. It was great. Do you wash your own car or make the car wash do it? I don't have a car. Are you a fan of parties? Not big ones, no. I'd enjoy chilling out with a few people I'm friends with/know, just chatting and hanging out. Next trip you’re going to take? I don't know. My sister Misty's wedding is coming up soon, but we doubt we'll be able to go because of 1.) Mom's car would never make the drive, and 2.) Covid, and Mom's immunocompromised. It sucks, but she's being understanding about it. Were you in honor roll in school? Yeah. If you could know one thing about the future, what would it be? If I'll ever be happy with my life. What’s your favorite lunch meat? Ham. Do you drink your soda from a straw? I don't like to, no, because I drink faster via a straw, and I like to drag my soda out throughout the day so I don't go through more than I should. Do you like hot sauce? Yesssssss. Do you like Ellen Degeneres? Sure, she seems like a great person. Who do you think is the cutest celebrity? UMMMMMM like have you ever seen Mark Fischbach laugh?????? Did you ever play softball? For quite a long time as a kid, yeah. Would you like to live to be 110 years old? No, that sounds like torture. I don't want to live to where I'm essentially a walking (if even) corpse. No energy, no strength... no thanks. Do you like getting your picture taken? NO. Ever seen a tornado? Thank fuck no. When you were little, did you do gymnastics? No. Do you know anyone who is pregnant? I know a number of people who are. Two are due very soon. Do you like being the X or the O when you play tic-tac-toe? I like being the X. Have you ever tried crowd surfing? No. Do you like the movie Bambi? If so, who is your favorite on there? I've actually somehow never seen it, though I would like to. Do you like onion rings? No. Are you more afraid of going to the doctor or dentist? I'm not really afraid of either, but I dislike going to the doctor more. Have you ever been to an animal shelter? Yeah. Have you ever bought yourself or someone else lingerie? No. Have you ever had a serious issue involving your eyes? Nothing more than needing glasses. When you were a teenager, did your parents set rules about dating? Not really, besides the obvious age gap stuff. I was allowed to follow my heart with who I was interested in, really. Have you ever lived with a person who you tried to avoid at all costs? There were times like this with Dad when my parents were still together and he was in a bad mood, especially if he was drinking. Have you ever committed a crime that directly harmed another person? No. What is your worst childhood memory? There was this very weird three day period where I could've sworn up and down I was constantly on the verge of puking. On the third night, Mom finally took me to the hospital, but they couldn't find anything wrong. Oddly enough, I felt better the next morning... The whole situation was fucking awful for someone who was and still is terrified of vomiting. Do you remember where you first drove to after getting your license? I don't have my license. What did you get into trouble for the most when you were a kid? Being on the computer too much. What is your favourite game show to watch? Family Feud with Steve Harvey. When’s the last time had to cover a coworker’s shift? Never. Is there a word you have an emotional connection to? "Petrichor." How about a sound? Any emotional connection to a sound? LOTS of songs. Where is your favourite place to get fries? Bojangle's. Their seasoning is *chef's kiss* Do you always have a stock of alcohol in your house? No. Have you ever fainted? Yes. Do you get out of bed on the left side or right side? Left. Do you fall asleep with your mouth open or closed? It embarrasses me for some reason, but usually open, because I have a hard time breathing through my nose when I lie down for some reason? I don't take allergy medicine though when I'm really supposed to, so that might explain it... Is there a book you keep telling yourself you’ll read but still haven’t? I have Margaret Atwood's The Testaments that I want to read, but Wings of Fire has taken precedent, so I really don't know if I'll get to it. It would also be nice to catch up with Erin Hunter's Warriors, but that I know I won't do. Did your family ever own a vacation home? No. Have you ever opened a wine bottle? Nope. Have you been inside of a police station? No. What would you never change about yourself? I mean, there's a number of things. I would never allow myself to lose my empathy and compassion for others, for one. I'll never grow a head too big for my body. Do you pretty much need a car to get around where you live? Yeah. Public transport isn't a big thing here, especially outside the cities, and living in the South, places are pretty spread out/not within reasonable walking distance. Have you been to Australia? No, and I'm honestly too scared to go, even though I think it would be extremely cool. All the venomous animals just frighten me, and I find huntsman spiders to be TERRIFYING, regardless of how harmless they are. Do you mind drinking room-temperature water? UGH, I absolutely do mind. I HAVE to drink cold water. If it's even slightly on the warm side, it makes me want to gag.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''pulse of the maggots'' by slipknot

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