#my coworker was joking about how i was peeing but i couldn’t tell he was joking

[lilgynt]

chewing on nails over not getting a joke

[didsomeonesaydaddydraco]

It’s just a bad day... » Tom Felton imagine

Request: yes! @lindsayfosselman93

Word count: 2,037

Pairing: Tom Felton x reader

Note: I just hope you guys will like this. xx

“Hey, Y/N” my coworker called after me, just as I was about to leave my office “A couple of us are heading out to grab a drink or two at Casey’s. Do you want to join us?”

I looked at my phone to check the time. It was a Friday afternoon, and our boss said we could leave an hour earlier than usual, knowing that we had a very though week behind us, and all of us deserved a little rest after all. 

“Yeah, sure” I smiled at her and grabbed my bag from my desk “But I’m driving, so no alcohol for me today”

“Alright” she linked her arm with mine and dragged me with her, talking about how hot her new intern was. I liked Beth. She was my mentor when I first started at the PR agency, and helped me with everything I needed. She was very open minded, and loved to ask me about England, and she really enjoyed listening to me, mostly because of my British accent. She found it fascinating “So, how’s your boo?”

I laughed at her nickname for my fiancé. They had met before, and a love-hate friendship was immediately formed between them. Beth hated that I skipped a lot of end of the week pub hopping with them to go home to Tom, but loved to hear everything about our travelling stories and the romantic things he had done just to make me happy. And Tom hated that Beth would show up at our home unannounced, and babbled about her terrible dating life, and how much she already wanted to be married. These occasions usually turned into a sleepover, because she had too much wine, and wasn’t able to drive back home. But at the same time he loved the idea of me having a good friend at work. And I knew, that deep inside, he would have helped her if she needed it. 

“He’s working on a new movie, so he is quite busy” I smiled at her and opened my car “He was up pretty late last night just to learn his lines” I frowned at the memory. He came to bed almost at the same time I had to wake up to get ready for work. He looked quite annoyed and even sad. I was thinking about him, hoping he was in a better mood and slept enough. I hated how much he pushed himself sometimes. He wanted his act to be perfect, to give his best to the project he was working on and satisfy not just his fans, but himself as well. He tended to be hard on himself. 

The pub was quite crowded when we arrived. We weren’t the only people in Los Angeles, who wanted to kick back a bit at the end of the week. Group of friends were playing billiard or were just chatting over a table with beers and wine glasses in their hands. Here and there were couples, maybe on a date. I smiled at a few familiar faces from either work, or at those who were frequent guests at Casey’s and sometimes joined us for a drinking game or just to chat. 

“So guess who’s being a baby and won’t drink today with us?” I rolled my eyes at Beth’s childish behaviour, but I couldn't hide my smile “Nah, just joking. Y/N’s only being a responsible adult here, and is actually driving”

We sat down to our usual table where some of our coworkers were already seated and were sipping on their first drink. I ordered myself a virgin Cosmopolitan and listened to one of our new intern’s story about how one of his professors was caught with his TA. I was sipping on my drink when my phone lit up in front of me. Because of the bad service in the pub, I didn’t get the notifications right away, so I didn’t see Tom’s messages.

“Baby? What time are you coming home?” 

“Are you alright? I thought you were coming home earlier..”

“Y/N???”

“Babe, I need you. I’m having a very bad day…”

I quickly texted him back that I was only out with a couple of friends from work but I was just leaving. I was worried. Tom wasn’t the double texting or multiple texting type of guy. He only acted like this, if it was important or he wasn’t feeling well. 

“Sorry guys, as much as I love to hang out with you, I really need to leave” I stood up and said my final goodbyes to them, not giving them a chance to ask me about my sudden leave-taking. Before I left to go home, I stopped by a grocery store to buy the ingredients for Tom’s favourite comfort food. 

I could see Willow’s cute face at the window when I pulled up to the driveway. She was jumping up and down when she saw me getting out of the car and walking up to the front door. I swear that dog was half a dog, half a kangaroo. 

“Love, I’m home” I called for Tom when I stepped in the hall and kicked off my high heels, which were killing my feet all day. I went to the kitchen and put down the grocery bags, before I kneeled down to pat Willow and give her a few kisses “Where’s Daddy? Can you show me?”

“Woof” she probably had no idea what I was asking her, but the fact that she hardly left Tom’s side came to my benefit, because she ran to Tom’s office. I followed her there, and of course he was there. He was laying on his sofa, the script for his new movie on his chest. The wrinkles of the pages told me he was close to tear the whole thing up and throw it away. He was asleep, but the frown from being frustrated was still on his face. 

“My love” I sat at the very edge of the sofa and pushed his hair out of his face softly “I’m home” I kissed his forehead and caressed his cheek carefully. I didn’t want to scare him.

“Hey” he murmured and pulled me on to his chest. His hands hold me close and Tom buried his face in my neck. I planted plenty of small kisses into his hair and hold him just as tight “I’m having the worst day of my life”

I laughed at him a bit. He could be a little bit overdramatic, when things weren’t going the way he planned. “Mind telling me why it is such a bad day?”

And he did. He told me that because of the lack of sleep he has been having caused him to wake up with a terrible headache this morning, and no matter how much he tried and practised, it seemed like he couldn’t memorise his lines. And when he finally gave up on learning those, he wanted to interact with his fans, but came across with a lot of hate, which led him to ask himself, if he really was good enough of an actor. 

I listened to him. Sinking in every single word that left his mouth, and played with his hair the whole time to keep him calm, and to show him I was now there for him, and was ready to do anything just to make him feel better. He was feeling very down, and it made me sad how his self-esteem shrunk down because of what some mean people and the media was writing about him, without knowing him at all. 

“Darling” I said softly “Did you really have a bad day or did you have 20 minutes where you let your thought run undisciplined which led you to a bad vibe that you let carry you away?”

“What do you mean?” He looked at me confused.

“I let you think about this” I kissed his neck softly, which made him laugh a tiny bit. I knew how ticklish his neck was, and loved and hated it at the same time, when I blow on it or kissed it. It was good to hear his laugh. It was so contagious. So to make him laugh again, I started to kiss it rapidly and blow on it, while I caressed the back of his neck with my fingertips to tickle him even more. 

“Stop, please” he laughed loudly and tried to push me away “C’mon darling, I’m going to pee myself at the age of 33 if you don’t stop” he begged me but never let go of me. I looked at him and kissed his lips with everything I had. I wanted this man to know how much I loved him. I wanted to show him that no matter what those people out there say about him. They didn’t know who Tom Andew Felton really was. They were cowards, using the power of social media. I pity them. How miserable their life must have been that the only thing that made them feel better or happy was hating on someone they didn’t even know personally?

“I’ll let you to think about what I just said” I stood up from him “Meanwhile you do your homework, I’ll make dinner. Come downstair when you are ready. Alright?”

“I love you” his voice was smooth. I adored how he said those words. They were pure, honest and filled with love and lust. I left him alone. I knew he needed it. He had to go through his whole day in a different point of view. He had to think if it was really worth it. Letting hate and a rough day ruin his good mood. Before I started on dinner, I changed into one of his tie dye hoodies and let my hair out of the ponytail. 

Tom came downstair just at the right time. I already sat the table, and was getting the food out of the oven when he came up behind me, and sneaked his arms around my waist, kissing the side of my neck lovingly. 

“You made casseroles” I could tell by his voice that he was smiling “It smells delicious” he sniffed into my hair “You smell delicious too” he playfully bit on my shoulder and squeezed my waist.

“Someone’s in a better mood” I sing sang and put the tray down on the table. 

“Yeah” he nodded and sat down “Thank you. I really need that to see the whole thing in a different view. Sometimes I tend to let my bad mood to take over my mind and I act unrealistically”

I placed my hand on his and gave him a reassuring smile. During dinner, he told me about how his day was, apart from the bad part. Tom told me how happy he was when Oliver Phelps texted him and asked if he wanted to be on their podcast the next week, and how they already made plans about a golf marathon as soon as it was possible for him to take off a few days from shooting. He even mentioned a few days trip to somewhere nice, just him, Willow and I, because we both had been very busy with our own jobs. He felt like we couldn’t spend enough quality time together, and we really needed it. I just looked at him, and adored the man sitting in front of me. At our dinner table, in our home. All these years together, and it still amazed me, that he chose me to be by his side for the rest of his life. He was honestly the most beautiful man I had ever met and I was more than ready to make him the happiest as possible. 

“I really can’t wait for you to put me in my place and treat me just like you did today for the rest of our lives” Tom hugged me from behind when we were getting ready to go to sleep. He played with my ring on my finger and smiled at me throughout the reflection of the mirror on my vanity table “Mrs. Y/N Felton. It still sound perfect to me.”

[intothemysticfic]

Monsta X Pregnancy Series

The Series so far...

Gotta Pee

Shownu/Hyunwoo: You curse as you fight with the sheets tangled around your legs. Whimpering as the pressure on your bladder builds painfully, and you realize you won't make it. You're kicking, and sounds of frustration wake Hyunwoo. Alarmed and dazed with sleep, he reaches to comfort you. "What's wrong?" 

You continue to kick fruitlessly. "Stupid blankets," you go listless - surrendering to reality, "I couldn't get up and I - I peed."  

It takes a moment for him to process, but he's getting up, murmuring soothing words as he comes around to free you. "It's okay. It happens. I'll change the sheets."

Wonho/Hoseok: Pausing, you sneeze, quickly returning to the task at hand. Your stomach drops, feeling nauseous with embarrassment as wetness gathers between your legs. "No. No. No." You hiss as you bolt from your work station to the bathroom. Your underwear is wet with urine, causing you to whine. Panicked, you call Hoseok,  "I need you." 

"Did something happen?" 

"Don't laugh." 

He agrees readily, "Okay." 

"I need you to bring me a pair of pants and underwear." 

"Why? Did you spill something on yourself? Are you hurt?" 

You hiss urgently, "I pissed my damn pants because I've got a melon sitting on my bladder," praying that no one in the bathroom hears you. 

He doesn't laugh, promising, "I'll be there soon." He hands the bag containing the requested items off to a coworker, who delivers it to you. When you go to thank him, there's mirth sparkling in his eyes, but he has the good sense not to laugh when you can hear him.

Minhyuk: You're stressed, and filling out in uncomfortable ways that make you moody. Minhyuk is cracking silly jokes, making faces, pulling out all the tricks he knows to make you laugh. You do - uncontrollably, the sound carrying away some of your stress; the control of your bladder leaves too. You stop laughing abruptly, shocked. 

You groan before the giggles kick back in, but this time you're laughing at yourself in disbelief. "I just peed. I can't - oh jeez, I can't believe this. Look what you made me do." 

He can't believe it either - he jokes, "I really am funny. You can never deny it again."

Kihyun: You realize your mistake when you move to stand up. In the just woke-up early morning haze, you forgot to pull down your underwear when you sat down to use the toilet. An overwhelming sense of revulsion and failure crashes over you, bringing with it a torrent of tears.

Kihyun hears you, easing open the door as he requests, "Tell me what's wrong," used to your hormone-induced tears. 

"I forgot," you motion toward your lap, "It's disgusting - I'm disgusting." 

"You're not," he tells you firmly, encouraging, "You'll feel better once you take a shower."

Hyungwon: "I have to pee." Hyungwon glances at you, gauging how serious you're being, before looking back to the long expanse of empty road. He sucks his teeth, "I'll stop when I can." 

You drum your fingers on top of your stomach, shaking your head. "No, I have to go now." 

"There isn't anywhere to stop," he points out unhelpfully. 

"Just pull over." 

"What?" 

"Honey - if you don't pull over right now, I will piss in your car." It’s not an idle threat, but a promise you’ll have no control over keeping.  

"Someone could see you," he warns but pulls to the side of the road.  Dazed by the fact that you genuinely seem to be squatting down to pee on the side of the roadway - he grabs the leftover napkins from an earlier chicken nugget stop, getting out of the car to ensure you don't tip over. He can't help laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

Jooheon: He's mid-question about cereal options when you blurt, "Hold on." He watches with a fond smile as you rush off toward the nearest restroom. The bigger you get, the more your walk turns into a penguin-like shuffle that he finds too cute.

I.M/ Changkyun: "Don't make fun of me," you warn from beside him on the park bench. The snack you'd been eating had made you cough. 

"Okay, but what am I not making fun of you for?" 

You admit," I may have peed a little when I coughed." 

He laughs startled, making up for it by offering, "You can have my jacket." He helps you tie the jacket around your waist, taking the opportunity to rub your belly.

[eddiesasspbrak]

Familiar

Eddie is dragged to a comedy show by his coworkers and something about the comedian is so...familiar.

Part of my “I’d rearrange the alphabet to put U and I together” series

Read on AO3

A B C D E

7k+ words

Minors DNI

Something about this man felt familiar.

When Eddie’s coworkers invited him out for a drink, he was inclined to say no. He wasn’t one for socializing outside of the workplace and drinking in front of them added the risk of getting drunk and saying or doing something stupid. The last thing he needed was a joke about his behavior going around the office for years because of the one night out he chose to let loose.

Then there was the Myra of it all. If she knew he was going out for a drink, she would harass him through text and phone calls until he came home. He knew she had an app that allowed her to track him via GPS and he couldn’t figure out how to turn it off. She could just as easily find out where he was and show up, ready to cry or scream to manipulate him into doing what she wanted. Of course, Eddie would let her because she was his wife and he’d chosen this life with her.

Still, there was a part of Eddie that wanted to be carefree for one night. As long as he limited himself to two drinks and stayed hydrated, he would be ok. He texted Myra and told her that the pub they were going to was run by a potential new client for his insurance firm and she believed him easily. He rarely lied to her, so it was easy to get away with it when he did. There were some bigger secrets he kept from her. Like how he wasn’t sure he loved her as more than a friend and how he realized he only liked men and often dreamed about reliving some college one-night stands with other men he’d met along the way. It wasn’t important for her to know.

A simple lie about where he was going and why was innocent enough. He wasn’t interested in any of his coworkers romantically or sexually, so it’s not like he’d have to lie any further to cover up an affair. He didn’t have it in him to cheat anyway. He may not have loved his wife romantically, but he’d be damned if he took the cowards way out. If he found someone else he wanted to be with, he’d end it with her first like a decent human being.

His coworkers were ecstatic when he agreed to go with them. He never wanted to go out with them. The club they were going to had special events that required tickets and one of them had acquired nine at a discounted cost thanks to a connection with the club owner. Eddie didn’t have much interest in the comedy act that would be going on around them and planned to stay focused on his level of intoxication instead. A night of freedom was just that and he was going to enjoy himself no matter what he had to do to accomplish that.

There was a line going down the street of people waiting for admission. Due to Harold’s connection, they were able to bypass the line, much to Eddie’s relief. Standing in a line in the heat for hours was not worth getting a few drinks. Inside was already bustling with people and Eddie’s attention went immediately to locating their waitress and flagging her down.

The jokes at his expense already began as his coworkers made comments about him letting loose. They’d never expected him to be a drinker. They thought for sure he’d sip on water and iced tea (not the long island kind) all night. When he ordered a shot and a beer (the shot was mostly ordered to shut them up), they quickly quieted down. Though he was actually a light weight from years of barely drinking at all because of Myra. He could tell they were trying to assess if they really knew the true Eddie Kaspbrak and he could easily answer that for them. No. Nobody knew the real Eddie. Not even Myra.

The room went dark, a spotlight trained on the stage and the crowd erupted in applause as the comedian for the night took the stage. Curious, Eddie followed suit and looked up the man. They had a relatively close table, able to see the guy perfectly from where they sat. Eddie immediately recognized him. He’d seen his shows on Comedy Central a few times. He used to think he was funny but in the last few years, his routine completely changed, and Eddie didn’t think he was good anymore. It was like someone else entirely was writing his material. Myra always hated him.

As he began his routine, a strange feeling struck Eddie. There was something oddly familiar about this man. He told himself it was just because he was familiar with his work, but it was more than that. He had this feeling, like a distant memory, that he had spoken to him before. He’d called out his name, touched his hands. Maybe it was a dream. After all, he wasn’t unattractive, and it wouldn’t be the first time Eddie had had a dream about a celebrity he was attracted to.

He barely listened to the jokes as he chased the fleeting memory, trying to figure out just what had happened in his dream. Hopefully, nothing too graphic as he was in public with the people he worked with and he didn’t need to get himself worked up. Especially given the actual man himself was on stage.

“Richie!” He heard his own, younger voice calling out in his head. If they were children in his dream, that opened another line of questions that he couldn’t quite answer.

Harold was laughing beside him and clapped a hand down on Eddie’s shoulder. “He’s funny, right?” He asked.

Eddie focused on what the guy was saying for a second, wondering if he’d reverted back to his actual funny jokes. He only heard the tail end of a joke, specifically, “try telling that to my girlfriend.” Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“That dude does not have a girlfriend. He’s full of shit.” He mumbled mostly to himself.

“Are you sure? Maybe he’s talking about an ex-girlfriend.”

Eddie wasn’t sure how he knew, but he believed with every ounce of himself that Richie Tozier did not and never did have a girlfriend. He didn’t know why. Richie had never once talked about being gay. No one really speculated that he was either. Other than the fans who shipped him with other comedians he was friends with and that was all fantasy. Part of him wondered if it was just his wishful thinking. Not that he would cheat on his wife and hook up with a random comedian if he were gay. And interested in Eddie.

The show went on and Eddie kept himself delightfully tipsy but not drunk. Enough to get through the painfully unfunny jokes but keep himself from making a fool of himself. His coworkers were laughing along with the rest of the crowd while Eddie quietly heckled. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, but he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Usually something that only happened when he was comfortable with someone. His coworkers seemed to be enjoying this side of him but the people sitting at the table next to them, did not.

“Dude, shut the fuck up. I can’t hear the jokes.” The man sitting closest to him snapped.

“You’re welcome.” Eddie quipped and when he looked back toward the stage, Richie was looking right at their table.

Their eyes met and he stuttered his words, an unreadable expression passing over his face before he caught himself and picked back up where he’d messed up making a self-deprecating joke about forgetting his lines. Eddie sat frozen, a chill going through him. He’d felt something and he was sure Richie felt it too. For the brief second their eyes were locked it felt like he was looking up at an old friend. Part of him wanted to get up and leave with some lame excuse to his coworkers that his wife needed him home. He didn’t need this uncertainty of being drawn to someone he’d never met like he was a past lover. It was unfamiliar and made it hard to breathe.

A memory of a conversation with Myra clicked into his mind. She’d been talking about soulmates, saying that they always find one another from one life to the next and the connection is instantaneous. She was talking about the two of them and Eddie had just nodded along, not contributing because he knew she was wrong. If there was such a thing as soulmates, she was not his. The idea that Richie fucking Tozier could be his soulmate was ludicrous and he felt like a jackass for having that thought at all even if it was just a passing thought.

“I have to pee.” Eddie mumbled as he staggered to his feet and made his way through the tables toward the bathroom. As he pushed through the door, forgetting to use his elbow instead of his hand, he heard Richie on stage saying, “I’m Trashmouth Tozier, goodnight!” and he felt dizzy. Echoes of his own voice calling out “Trashmouth” filled his ears as he made his way to the sink, pressing his hands against the cold porcelain to support himself.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe he was drunker than he realized and that’s why his head was spinning. Either way, he felt like he was strapped to a chair, his eyes pried open being forced to watch images flash by on a screen. Images that were being crammed into his brain through his ear making his head throb, but he couldn’t actually see them. That distant dream you can vaguely remember when waking but it slowly fades away into oblivion again.

“You ok?” Eddie startled at the voice. He hadn’t even heard the door open.

“I’m fine.” He said, turning on the tap and splashing water in his face.

“Too much to drink?” Eddie didn’t respond this time. He just wanted to get out of there, go home and sleep. The intruder on his mini breakdown wasn’t taking his silence as a hint though. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

Eddie finally lifted his head, taking a look at the guy though the mirror. What he saw, had him whirling around, a bad choice with the way he was feeling. He stumbled back against the sink, catching himself and hitting his wrist against the edge of the sink. Richie was leaning against the side of the stall door, his hands in his pockets.

It took a second for Eddie’s brain to reconnect to the present situation. When it did, the first thing to tumble from his lips was, “that’s a really shitty pickup line.”

Richie cracked a smile. “All pickup lines are shitty. I’m being serious though. Do you come to my shows often?”

“No. First time.”

“Did you enjoy the show?”

“Not even a little bit.” Eddie hadn’t meant to say that. He’d intended to lie and say it was great, but something about this guy made him want to be honest. He wasn’t afraid to tell him the truth. That feeling of familiarity sat tugging at his mind.

“Yea, I kind of noticed. I didn’t see you laugh once.”

“That room was packed. No way you were paying attention to me. You’re attempts to hit on me are really lame.”

“I was, though. I was trying to place where I know you. And I always watch the crowd to see if everyone is laughing. It’s kind of a blow to my confidence when there’s someone out there who doesn’t find my jokes funny.”

“They aren’t funny. They’re full of shit. Your old stuff was better.”

Richie appeared shocked. “So, you’re familiar with my work then. I thought you said this was your first show.”

“First live show I guess. I used to watch your stuff online. Before you stopped being funny.”

“Let me get this straight…you’re a fan but you don’t want me to hit on you in a public bathroom?”

“I’m not a fan, there’s no way you could get anything straight and I’m technically married. So, no.”

“Technically married? Like, separated? Getting a divorce?”

“No…I’m…I guess I’m actually married.”

“Oh.”

Eddie felt sick again, the waves of nausea crashing down and making him want to puke. He sounded disappointed and Eddie hated that. Why did he get married? Oh yea, because he shoved himself in the closet and she was obsessed with him. He used her and that knowledge was a constant pit of guilt sitting solid in his gut on a daily basis. He’d been so freaked out on their wedding day he’d almost run away. Having sex the first few times was awkward, and he had to drink quite a bit at the reception to even get hard and then he thought about the guy he used to hook up with in college. Tall, broad shoulders, thick biceps and thighs. He could hold Eddie up against the wall while he fucked up into him hard and fast.

That was not a memory he needed in his head while standing alone in a bathroom with someone he was definitely attracted to. Immediately he was picturing Richie pushing him up against the bathroom door, fucking him while he held a hand over his mouth to keep anyone from hearing his loud, slutty moans. A shiver went down his spine and he had to look away.

“Well, if I were hitting on you that would suck.” Richie chuckled awkwardly.

“What do you mean if?” Now distracted by Richie’s bullshit, Eddie was back to treating this perfect stranger as if he’d known him for years and was close with him. Could he really blame it all on the alcohol and the feeling of familiarity? Was it because he was attracted to him and really wanted to feel those big hands on his skin? “You were clearly disappointed when I said I was married.”

“I…have a girlfriend. Didn’t you hear my jokes about her?”

“That was bullshit. You didn’t even write those jokes.”

Richie’s eyes widened as his genuine smile returned to his face. “Why are you so sure I didn’t write my jokes?”

“Because your jokes used to be funny and they aren’t now.”

“Maybe I used to have someone else write for me and I write for myself now.”

Eddie hadn’t actually thought about that being a possibility. He was just so sure that the old jokes were his own words. He was beginning to think maybe he insulted him by saying his new stuff is bad since he didn’t write it when Richie began to laugh. He tried to keep it together, but the way Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed together, and his lips dropped into a frown of concern was so cute he couldn’t contain it. Eddie’s eyes snapped back up to Richie’s face and all at once his expression changed to one of annoyance.

“More bullshit. I take it back, you’re not funny at all and never were. And you’re definitely at least bi.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I can tell.”

“Ah, I just kind of assumed you were married to a woman, but I guess I was wrong. Cause like, only fellow gay people can tell right?”

“What kind of dumbassery is that? And I am married to a woman.”

“Oh. Wow. I cannot read people at all. I really thought you were gay.”

“I am.” Eddie felt like his heart stopped. He’d said it out loud for the first time. He used to think he was bi but ever since realizing his truth, he’d never said it out loud. Why the fuck was he blurting it out to this man in the middle of a public bathroom where anyone could walk in? He just couldn’t understand what was making him feel like an old friend he could confide all his deepest darkest secrets to. This was dangerous and he needed to leave. “I have to go.”

Eddie made his way to the door but was stopped by Richie using his long legs to get in front of him. “Wait, you can’t go without telling me your name.”

“What? Why?”

“You know my name.”

“You’re a celebrity. Everyone here knows your name.” Richie made it clear he wasn’t going to move until he gave it up and Eddie sighed in annoyance. “Fine. I’m Eddie.”

“Eddie…?”

“Kaspbrak. Now can you please move? My coworkers definitely think I’m taking a massive shit or passed out on the floor.”

“Sure thing Eddie Kaspbrak.”

Richie stepped to the side and Eddie wasted no time crashing through the door back into the dim light of the club. Outside the door stood a big buff bodyguard and a line of men stood waiting to pee. He’d actually stopped anyone from entering the bathroom after him. He definitely intended to seduce Eddie into fucking in the bathroom stall. Ignoring this, he made his way back to the table and found his coworkers still there discussing the show.

“Hey, Eddie, we thought you ditched us.” Harold grinned.

“No, sorry, there was a line in the bathroom.” He kind of lied. There had been a line, he had just sort of been the cause of it. “I do have to go though. I’ll see you all at work Monday.”

They each said goodbye and then Eddie was off into the night before Richie decided to follow after him. He wasn’t sure he could ignore the desire to drag him back to this car and ride him in the backseat if he saw him again. Better to rush home before he made a mistake.

----

When Eddie arrived home, Myra was unsurprisingly still awake waiting for him. He told her the meeting went well but she should head to bed without him as he needed a shower to wash the smell of the club off of him. Really he just needed to be alone and it was the only option. He’d banned her from sneaking into the shower with him after she tried to use two in one shampoo and conditioner on him. That wasn’t a thing and he only used professional hypoallergenic products recommended by his stylist.

Once under the hot stream of water, he closed his eyes, resting one hand against the wall to help support himself. That night wasn’t the first night he’d been tempted to go home with a stranger, but this time was different. He hadn’t actually touched him, but he swore he could feel his hands on his body, his fingers in his hair. A shiver went down his spine, his skin tingling where imaginary fingers traced over his body. The sound of his name from Richie’s mouth filled his mind as if he were there, whispering it over and over.

Before Eddie could even think, his fingers were wrapping around his dick, already hard just from his own imagination. He closed his eyes, focusing on how his face looked so close and in person, the sound of his laugh, the way one side of his mouth lifted up higher than the other when he smiled. He let his mind run wild, imagining what would have happened if he’d given in and stayed in that filthy bathroom with Richie.

“Eddie…Eddie…” His voice echoed in his head, making him shiver. With the door blocked by his bodyguard, there was no need to cram into a tiny stall, he thought. Instead, Richie would bend him over one of the sinks, his hands gripping the cold porcelain, his bare belly pressed against the edge. He wondered what it would be like to be fucked by Richie. How big he was, how long he could hold out. Had he even been with a guy before and did he prefer to receive? It didn’t matter really, because this was his fantasy and in it, Richie was perfect and knew exactly what Eddie needed.

In real time, Eddie had his shoulder pressed hard against the shower wall, one hand still jacking himself off, the other knuckle deep inside him while in his head Richie was pounding into him. He was close and part of his brain told him to bite down on his lip to stay quiet, so he wasn’t heard. He told himself it was because they were in a public bathroom, but he knew the real reason, the one who was likely listening outside the door for any noise. She would barge in and say she thought he fell in the shower if she heard any unusual noise, so he bit down until it hurt because he didn’t want to think about that. Not when Richie was deep inside him, moaning out his name and Eddie was close, so close…

He took a sharp inhale, spilling over his fingers and onto the shower floor. He knew that wasn’t great for the pipes as it washed away, but just a little wasn’t so bad, right? His head was a muddled cloud of post orgasm bliss and while the fantasy was quickly fading, he could still hear Richie’s voice echoing his name in his head. Over and over while Eddie reaching around the shower curtain for toilet paper to clean off his hand, while he quickly washed himself up and let the water run cold to calm himself down before leaving the safety and privacy of the bathroom. It continued as he shut off the water and wrapped himself in a towel and then his robe, repeating as he wiped the fog from the mirror and stared into his still wide pupils. It wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t will his voice away and then… “Eds!” the voice was younger, but he was absolutely sure that it was Richie.

The shock caused him to gasp, that same dizzy feeling he’d felt in the club coming back to him. A knock came from the door a second later followed by Myra’s frantic voice. “Eddie? Are you ok? I thought I heard something!”

Trying to calm himself, he took a deep breath before responding. “I’m fine. Just thought I saw a spider. I’ll be out in a second.” He knew she’d been sitting there ever since she heard the water start up. She always did. He could hear her footsteps going back down the hall toward the bedroom and he knew if he didn’t hurry she’d just come right back and demand he open the door. Grabbing another towel, he dried his hair a bit before bringing out the dryer. His mom had told him at a young age that it was never good to go to bed with wet hair and Myra felt the same way.

Hair dry and head calmed, he left the bathroom and the fantasy of Richie Tozier behind.

----

SpaghettiMan: Is it cheating to masturbate to someone else?

Eddie sat at his desk at work a few days later, the guilt of his almost-but-not-really with Richie sitting in his stomach all weekend. He’d wanted to talk to his friend about it, but it wasn’t safe to communicate with her at home. He’d met her in an online support group a few months before. She was also in a bad, controlling marriage though her husband was violent toward her and constantly accused her of cheating. They didn’t know each other’s real names, it wasn’t allowed in the group, but they’d become close and had moved to a private room where they could talk just the two of them. He’d created a stupid username that had been stuck in his head for years without any explanation but definitely hid who he really was. Now, he waited for her to respond, chewing the inside of his lip.

WinterFire: I’m sorry…what?

SpaghettiMan: I had the opportunity to cheat and I didn’t! I’m a good man…but I did go home and masturbate while thinking about them.

WinterFire: Wow, um…ok. I guess it’s better than screwing your wife while thinking about them, maybe?

SpaghettiMan: Oh god…

WinterFire: Does your wife know?

SpaghettiMan: Of course not! I don’t even sleep with her anymore unless she gets me really, really drunk.

WinterFire: So…who was it?

SpaghettiMan: What?

WinterFire: The almost. Who was it?

SpaghettiMan: Is that important?

WinterFire: Absolutely. If you want me to judge you then I need all the details.

Eddie’s fingers hesitated over the keys. He hadn’t told her that he was gay. It was anonymous, but if he gave her the name of a celebrity thought to be straight, it would open a whole can of worms. He decided it was ok to tell her about himself, but he wouldn’t give away Richie’s name.

SpaghettiMan: It was…a guy.

WinterFire: Oh

His heart pounded in his chest as he watched the typing bubbles appear and disappear several times. Part of him had always been afraid that she was really Myra pretending to be someone else to get information out of him, though he didn’t know if she was actually capable of that. Finally, the chat chime came from his speakers.

WinterFire: So, you’re bi? Or pan?

SpaghettiMan: I’m gay

His fingers shook as he hit send. Twice now he’d admitted it in just a few short days. It was terrifying and liberating all at the same time. Like the weight of the world was lifted off of his shoulders for just a moment while laced with fear of the unknown. How would she react? Before she could, his fingers were flying over the keys.

SpaghettiMan: I thought I was bi for a long time. I slept with men in college but also some women.

SpaghettiMan: I met my wife and she loved me, and I thought I loved her, so we got married and then I realized.

SpaghettiMan: I didn’t want to hurt her but also she’s…well you know what she’s like from the stories I’ve told you. I don’t know if I could get away if I tried. She’s so manipulative, I don’t know what she’d do if I told her the truth and left.

WinterFires: Hey, it’s ok. You don’t have to defend yourself to me. Sexuality is a crazy thing.

WinterFires: I’ve for sure had more than one woman in my bed. Sometimes at the same time.

She added a little winking emoji after that, and Eddie felt himself calming down.

WinterFires: Maybe this is something you should tell the group. I want to help but I’m not really sure what to say. I don’t think what you did counts as cheating, but I do think you need to find a way to tell her the truth. She deserves a man who can handle her toxic ass and actually wants to sleep with her, and you deserve to be happy and live your truth.

He contemplated what she said for the rest of the day. She wasn’t wrong, but if it were that easy, he’d have done it already. Still, he trusted her and her opinion so the next meeting they had, he’d bring it up. He’d already said it twice, what was once more?

----

As the days went by, Eddie couldn’t get Richie out of his head. He haunted his dreams, sometimes they were younger and sometimes they were nightmares where they were running from…something. He could never fully remember the dreams all he knew was that Richie was there. Sometimes there were other people. Always five, always blurred so he couldn’t see them. Only one had any discernible features – red hair. Beyond that, it was as if he was looking at them through foggy glass.

One thing was certain, Richie Tozier had burrowed his way into Eddie’s brain and taken up permanent residence. He started watching his older routines again, finding clips online and on streaming services. Eventually he made it to his new stuff. And, while he still didn’t think the new stuff was funny, he couldn’t stop watching.

When the weekend rolled around once more, he felt like a teenager who hadn’t seen their crush all week. So, against his better judgement, he approached Harold with an invitation to go back to the club for drinks. Harold had definitely been surprised but had agreed and invited along a group of their coworkers to join, making a night of it. Eddie told Myra they had to go back to the club to go over some paperwork with the owner. This time, the lie made him feel guilty. He wasn’t lying to enjoy a night of relaxation; he was lying so he could attempt to see the man he was interested in. This definitely counted as cheating, right?

The line wasn’t as bad this time as there were no big-name comedians performing, so they’d waited their turn to be allowed inside. His coworkers chatted happily while Eddie felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin from nervous energy. Where were the odds he was even there? He’d only been at the club last weekend because he had a show. He was paid to be there. This was stupid. He was stupid. He should just fake illness and go home to his wife. But then they were at the front, paying admission to see a band he didn’t know, and he didn’t stop.

The inside was the same as before, but this time a band occupied the stage playing a song he’d never heard before. They claimed a table and Eddie’s eyes scanned the room for a familiar face. There was no sign of him, or his big bodyguard. Of course, he wasn’t there. Eddie was just a one time attempted pick up and he hadn’t thought of him since. Anything Eddie had imagined was just that…imaginary.

“You ok Kaspbrak?” Harold asked.

“Yea, I’m fine. I just suddenly feel really tired. I think going out today was actually a bad idea.” He felt so sad and then felt stupid for feeling sad.

“What? Really? You created this night out and now you’re tapping out just as it’s getting started?” Harold looked disappointed.

“I’m really sorry. Maybe I’m coming down with something. We can try again next week, ok?”

He didn’t wait for a response as he stood and headed for the door. As he exited onto the nearly dark street, he wondered what he was doing. He was married, what was he planning to do? What if Richie had been there? It wouldn’t make a difference or change his circumstances. If he wanted to pursue hot guys in clubs, he needed to first get a divorce. He was acting on impulse and it was time to reign it in.

Part of his mind kept telling him to go back. Just because he wasn’t there, didn’t mean he wouldn’t show up. That was precisely the kind of thought he was trying to remove, so he ignored it and kept walking.

----

The rest of the weekend, Eddie stayed home and watched things that had absolutely nothing to do with a certain comedian. He had lunch and dinner with Myra and on Sunday, over a dinner of all her favorite foods, he told her.

“What are you talking about? Don’t be silly, Eddie.” She said with a wave of her hand, dismissing what he’d just said.

“I’m serious, Myra. When we met and got married I thought I liked women too and maybe on some small level I do, but I want to be with a man. I want a divorce.”

She slammed her glass down on the table, her face turning red. “Who? Who is this man you want to be with?”

“There isn’t anyone specific. I just think it’s time I find someone.”

“You already have someone! Me!”

“You know what I mean, Myra. And you deserve to find someone too.”

“You’re just being ridiculous. You’ve got a fever and are delirious. I’ll call your doctor in the morning.”

“I’m not sick, I’m not delirious. This has been on my mind for a long time. I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, but it’s time.”

“I won’t hear anymore of this!” She stood from the table. “I’m going to have a nice hot bath and then I’m going to bed. In the morning we’ll both be thinking a lot clearer and you’ll see that this was just foolishness.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, she left the room. A moment later, Eddie could hear the water running in the bathtub. Sighing, he cleared the table, loaded the dishwasher and put away all of the leftovers. With her still in the bath, he went to the room they shared and packed a bag with pajamas, toiletries and a suit for work. He was in his car and headed to a hotel before she emerged from the bathroom.

----

Eddie was sat at his desk the next day, chat window opened on his screen and feeing exhausted. He’d tossed and turned all night, anxiety about how difficult things were about to become plaguing his mind. He’d checked out of the hotel that morning, his things in the trunk of his car, but he figured he’d be back there or at another hotel that night.

SpaghettiMan: I did it. I told her everything (mostly) and slept in a hotel last night.

WinterFires: Holy crap! Good for you, dude! I’m proud of you.

SpaghettiMan: Thanks. It was pretty awful. I actually left when she was bathing, and my phone has been turned off, so I have no idea what she’s doing or thinking right now.

“Hey, Eddie.” He turned in his chair to see one of the assistants standing close by. “You’ve got a visitor. They said to meet them out in the parking lot.”

“What?” He looked toward the front entrance and saw no one standing there.

“Yea, it’s kind of weird. Do you need me to call the police or…?”

“No, it’s ok. I’ll handle it.”

SpaghettiMan: She may have just shown up at my work. I have a visitor waiting in the parking lot. If I’m not back in ten minutes, I’m probably dead.

WinterFires: Oh shit, be careful ok?

Eddie’s stomach twisted in knots as he road the elevator down to the ground floor. He tried to see who it was through the front windows but there were several people outside and he didn’t know who it was waiting for him. He went to the desk in the lobby and approached the security guard.

“Hi, so I’m Edward Kaspbrak, I work upstairs. I’m about to go meet some stranger out in the parking lot. I’m sure it’s nothing, but if you see anything go down can you…interfere?” He felt so stupid.

“Do you…want me to go out there with you?” The guy looked out into the parking lot out of curiosity.

“No, that might be bad. Just…if a woman tries to force me into a car, call the police and tell them it was my wife.”

“Right. Ok.” The guard seemed confused and maybe a little amused, but he watched as Eddie exited the building and stood close to the window to observe.

Eddie stayed close to the building and scanned his surroundings. He didn’t see Myra, but then a tall figure with a hood and sunglasses waved in his direction. So, not Myra. A hitman maybe? Or someone hired to kidnap him and take him home? Either way, he looked back to the security guard in the window and then made his way through the parked cars to where the person was standing.

“Before you say anything, I’m guessing my wife sent you. I don’t know what she’s paying you or what she told you to do but know that I’m planning to leave her enough money in the divorce to be comfortable for a few years. Also, there’s a security guard watching us, and I’ve instructed him to call the police if you try anything.” He tried to sound confident, but his voice squeaked on the last bit.

The person smiled and removed their glasses. Richie.

“You’re a hard man to find Mr. Kaspbrak.” He grinned, tucking the glasses into his jacket pocket.

“Why are you here?” That might have sounded harsher than he intended.

“I’ve been looking for you since that night we met. I went back to that club a few times, figured it was a place you frequented. I saw the people you were with last time, but you were nowhere in sight.”

“I…was there. I just left. I was sick.”

“Well, I talked to them anyway and they told me you all worked together and after a few rounds they told me exactly where to find you.”

“Are you stalking me?” Eddie ignored the flutter in his chest and his quickly increasing heartrate.

“Flat answer, yes. I wanted to see you again. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head and I needed to find out why.”

“I…me too. What the fuck is happening?” Eddie took a step back, suddenly feeling breathless.

“Fate?”

“No, I keep having these dreams where we’re kids, and I’ve never seen you as a kid but I know it’s you and there are five others but they’re all…”

“Blurry?”

“How did you know that?”

“I’ve had the same dreams. And there’s this thing that’s trying to kill us. I think. I just know we’re scared of it.”

“You’re lying. You’re full of shit. You’ve been talking to someone. Winter…you’ve talked to her. You are her, aren’t you?”

“Who? I haven’t talked to anyone. I swear, I’m telling the truth. It’s been going on ever since I saw you that night.”

Eddie felt sick, a panic attack creeping up on him as it became harder to breathe. “Whoa, shit, you ok?” Richie asked, stepping forward. “Do you have your inhaler?”

“How?” Eddie asked between shaky breaths. “How did you know I use an inhaler?”

“Uh…lucky guess?”

Eddie shook his head and took a deep breath, holding it for ten seconds and letting it go then repeating. Richie stood close by and watched, concern in his eyes.

“Look, people are starting to stare and if I get recognized it could be a whole thing so why don’t we go get lunch somewhere and I’ll tell you everything that’s happened to me since we met, ok?”

Eddie nodded, letting out his breath in one long blow, finally feeling himself begin to calm down. “Fine, but you’re paying.”

----

Two weeks later and they weren’t any closer to finding out what their dreams meant or why they knew strange facts about each other they shouldn’t know. However, dinners and drinks and long nights talking until the sun rose, and they didn’t care anymore. Maybe it was fate bringing them together. Some cosmic thing that can’t quite be explained.

They agreed that they wouldn’t pursue a relationship until Eddie’s divorce was final, which would probably take a while with all the fits Myra was throwing. He couldn’t take care of himself, he needed her, she might be pregnant, etc. Eddie would listen to her and then make it clear that he was going forward with the divorce. Getting her to sign would be another obstacle all together but Richie put him in touch with a good lawyer, so he was hopeful.

He was driving back to his hotel afterwork, stuck on yet another call with Myra, her begging him to reconsider. This time she had decided that it was ok if he kept male lovers behind closed doors as long as they stayed together, and he gave her a baby. She was planning it all out when another call came in. The ID read “Derry, Maine” and a chill went through him. He told Myra to hold on and switched over.

“Eddie? It’s Mike.”

Oh.

----

So maybe Eddie had an entire life that he couldn’t even remember. Filled with friends he’d known since childhood. And Richie. That’s what was happening with them. Why they seemed to know each other. It was because they did. Intimately. They were friends for years and then in the 8th grade, they started dating. They dated all the way until they each left Derry and then…nothing. They both just, forgot. As did the others.

Eddie was frantic as he stood outside Richie’s door, knocking rapidly until his knuckles began to hurt. When Richie opened the door, he had his phone pressed to his ears, his eyes wide as saucers.

“Yea, I’m gonna have to call you back.” He said, dropping the phone to his side.

“Was that Mike?”

“No, Mike called just before. That was my manager wanting to know why I’m canceling my shows to go back to my hometown I didn’t even know existed until fifteen minutes ago.”

“Do you remember?”

“What, that we were in love and ready to start our adult lives together and then we completely forgot each other?”

“Yea…that.”

Without missing another beat, both surged forward and wrapped each other up in their arms. Richie stepped back into the apartment, pulling Eddie with him and shutting the door.

“I can’t believe you married a woman.” Richie laughed.

“Fuck you.” Eddie’s voice was muffled by Richie’s shoulder, but the message got across. “I cheated on you. A lot.”

“Hey, me too. Forget about it. It was…another life.”

Eddie pulled out of Richie’s embrace but stood close, looking up at him. “I still can’t do anything until I’m divorced. I just…can’t.”

“I got it. But I feel nineteen again like we haven’t lost anything when we really lost like twenty years.”

“I don’t want to think about that. I can’t.” Eddie shook his head as if willing the thought away. “So…are we going to Derry?”

“Our friends need us. Don’t we have to?”

“What if we forget again…”

“I guess we’ll just have to rely on fate to bring us together again.”

“So, back to Derry.”

“Back to Derry.”

[mikecardenmpreg]

my life has been one big drawn out joke recently. here are some topics i will be covering in my budding career as a stand up comedian:

1. my manager’s poorly disguised cocaine addiction and every other fucking thing about him. could go on for ages about this man.

2. the old man who complained about everything from the clothing section to the price of a ps4 controller to the lack of public restrooms (disregarding the multiple signs around the store saying there are no public restrooms). he later complained about again not being able to use the restroom despite being a paying customer. he proceeded to dig in our trash can, pull out my coworker’s used coffee cup, dump the remaining liquid back into the trash can, look me dead in the eyes, and, in an attempt to guilt me a third time into letting him use our restroom, told me he had to pee in this coffee cup because, despite him being a paying customer, i wouldn’t let him use our restroom. i told him okay and walked away.

3. dressing up as velma for halloween was cute and fun and i got to find out which of my regulars wish to know me carnally, but just as velma. one of these guys told me quietly that he always thought velma was the sexy one. he was rather embarrassed to tell me this, hinting at his deep shame. the other? well he came in the next day and asked me, rather demandingly, where the wig was. told me i should get that haircut, or at least wear the wig more often. that his daughter had that haircut. [insert nervous laughter]. mike, andrew, please, you’re making me blush.

3a. on that note, let’s talk about john, who thought, first of all, that he was even in my league. absolutely not. secondly, this 49 year old man thought - no, assumed - we were near the same age. i’m 27 and rather babyfaced but in this time of covid, faces are a hard thing to come by. i’m assuming he assumed i was 50-ish because of the dark circles around my eyes, as all he could see of me was my eyes due to the mask and baseball cap i was wearing that night. he was going to ask me to dinner, but when i told him my age, realized i was “probably” too young for him. this caused me to have an existential crisis, by the way, and now i’m obsessed with under-eye masks and creams. next time he came in, he inquired about my age again. “oh, that’s the same age as my daughter”. so now that’s two customers who want me to stand in as their sexy daughter. that’s fun for me! the third time he came in, i hid out in the back and he asked my coworkers about me. coworker one told him i didn’t have a name. coworker two told him she couldn’t give out employee information. the fourth time he came in was the same night i was worried we were going to get murdered by a (different) regular who had lost his mind, and upon seeing john in my store again, hopefully looking around for me, i was hoping that other guy would come and shoot me down. rather be dead than accused of looking like i was 50 again.

4. recently deciding to treat myself by consuming 20mg of thc and watching buzzfeed unsolved in a paralyzed state for 4 hours. i cried about how sad and lonely ghosts must be. 

5. the little girls who were so convinced i was a legitimate witch and had full on meltdowns in the store, forcing their parents to stop shopping and leave, because their little girls were inconsolable in the presence of me, a 27 year old in some black velvet pants. again. the dark circles.

6. learning, on four different occasions, that i definitely look/dress/act like i sell dildos, butt plugs, nipple clamps, and other sexual adult paraphernalia. a lot to unpack here. literally left me speechless when my coworker told me this. i couldn’t even respond to his “i’ve been to lots of sex shops and you look like every girl who works there” comment. i should have been able to. such low hanging fruit. but i just sat there with my mouth open, trying to figure out exactly what about me gives off that vibe.

6a. realizing i tell people i work at a toy store means one thing to me and another to everyone else, apparently.

7. "third base is you telling me about your girlfriend” and all other bro-ista related shenanigans.

8. rapid-fire bit about various miscellaneous customers:

8a. the guy who decided it was appropriate to have an entire conversation about my incredibly average belt. dude. bro. i know my pussy is popping. don’t look at my crotch while you’re talking to me about my crotch.

8b. a very stable man pretending to hold up the store with a nerf gun and then singing grandson’s “oh no” to me while making uncomfortable eye contact (still cradling the nerf gun of course)

8c. the cop-hating neo-nazi who rescued a yorkshire terrier which he now carries around in a little pink dress. he didn’t know what a yorkshire terrier was. apparently doesn’t know what cops and/or nazis are. we call him meth-head gun kelly because he looks like machine gun kelly on an intense downward spiral. also his last name is kelly. i don’t know the joke wrote itself.

8d. the teenage boy who stuck his whole hand up his girlfriend’s coochie in the middle of the store, got a real big teenaged boner about it, and shopped around like this was normal and okay.

8e. the stupid dumb idiot regular to called in a bogus mass shooting threat without blocking his number and caused me to have a drawn out anxiety attack for at least 6 hours only to come in the very next night and act like nothing happened.

9. having arthritis in my back at age TWENTY-SEVEN FOR FUCKS SAKE MAN

10. “oh my asshole!” “if i have to see someone’s toes they better be immaculate. i better be able to suck on those toes” “people fuck dead bodies in this game” and every other asinine thing my coworker says to me on a regular basis.

11. and of course, my dad just straight up losing his god damn mind. hiding quarters in trees just to see if anyone notices. hunting snails late at night. choosing to spend upwards of $30,000 on home repairs because he’s going stir crazy. just. every single thing about my dad.

[katrandomwrites]

Wierdly Human

Alternate title was "Jon the Archivist is Kinda Hot"

Little in between snippets from the assistants and their impressions of Jonathan Sims.

I declare this a fluff and humor only zone! Episode 160 can kiss my butt.

You can also find this on AO3 under the same title.

I got the inspiration for this from a tumblr post about Jon being a clean boy despite crawling through hell and back but I think the writer deleted it because I spent forever looking for it and couldn't find it :n: Also 2 Drink Jon is a reference to 2 other fics I've read so his wild ass is not mine.

Supplemental Headcanons at the end.

--

Pre-Show

There was somebody new at the Institute. 

He was short and dark with black hair neatly trimmed and styled. A pair of browline glasses perched in front of wide brown eyes that seemed to absorb everything around him.

“Hey, uh, Tim,” Martin whispered as he leaned over to where his coworker was digging through a drawer, “Who’s that?”

“Hm?” Tim’s eyes widened as he looked up, “Oh shit, he’s cute.”

“Not helpful, Tim.”

“Um, I think he might be Daniel’s replacement. I think his name is Joe or something,” Tim swallowed, “I wonder what modeling agency Bouchard raided for him.”

Martin elbowed him in the ribs hard, his face going as red as his hair, “Shut up!”

“But look at him, Martin! He has to have a skincare routine an hour long and don’t tell me you didn’t notice that those trousers are bloody tailored. I see you looking at his arse!”

“SHUT UP!”

”What are you two fighting about now?”

Both researchers jumped away from each other as Sasha popped up behind them.

“Hot new guy,” Tim said, earning another jab and a hiss.

Sasha looked at Martin and grinned, “Short, scrawny, Persian, and angry?”

“He’s Persian?” Martin stuttered before slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah, I got to talk to him during his follow up interview. Smart guy but kind of grumpy and super awkward. We got talking about foriegn food and he offered to give me his grandma’s recipe for chelow kababs,” Sasha said.

“What’s his name.” Tim asked, looking back at where the new guy was glaring at a row of filing cabinets with several drawers ajar.

“Jonathan Sims.”

--

Pre Episode 44

Basira watched as Sims limped away with the tape clutched to his chest like a lifeline before sighing and heading out to the car where Daisy was waiting.

“Well?” Daisy asked, “How’s our favorite murderer?”

Basira swatted her feet off the dash, “He looks like he hasn’t slept in 3 weeks and recently got hit by a car.”

“I wasn’t asking about his nasty, worm-eaten face, Basira,” Daisy said, “Does he know we’re watching him?”

“I don’t think so -put your seatbelt on- it seems like he’s more invested in what’s on those tapes for now. I get the feeling he’s more worried about watching the people he works with than us.”

“What a sad little librarian. I’m looking forward to how he managed to kill Robinsen without getting his ass whipped.”

“She was old.”

“Yeah, but Sims looks like he’d get knocked out by a light breeze even before he got munched on by some nasty fucking bugs. Did you see the surveillance from Robinsen’s initial investigation? I went back through to track Sims and watched him struggle move a box that was in front of a filing cabinet for a solid twenty minutes; the big ginger guy had to move it for him.”

“That’s-” Basira snorted, “That’s pathetic.”

Daisy grinned, “He has to be one manipulative bastard to get anything done.”

“Is that your theory?”

“I mean look at you.”

“What about me?”

“He gives you the puppy eyes once and now you’re smuggling him tapes from the evidence locker? I have never known the great Basira Hussain to ever cave to a suspect’s wishes in my life- and don’t say it’s to keep a closer eye on him. We have less illegal tactics for that.”

Basira opened her mouth to argue but found that Daisy had a point. She really only gave into suspects if the circumstances were dire. This was technically classed as a low priority case.

What was going on here? 

--

Post Episode 76

Melanie flopped dramatically onto Georgie's couch and let out a long winded sigh.

"Oh?" Georgie asked from the kitchen door.

Melanie sat up slightly to let her sit down before plopping her head down on Georgie's thigh, "I had to go talk to Sims at the Institute again."

"How's Jon?"

"A fucking bastard is what he is."

"Well I knew that," Georgie laughed, gently beginning to brush through Melanie's hair with her fingers.

"I don't know, he's was wierdly defensive and I think he was trying to gaslight me about one of his new assistants."

Georgie paused her brushing, "I haven't seen Jon in a while but that seems… out of character for him. He's a grump, sure, but I've never known him to be a bully -on purpose that is."

"Yeah, well…"

The pair lapsed into a tense silence.

"Would it make you feel better if I show you a picture of Jon in university that he is very embarrassed about," Georgie ventured after a few minutes, "He's still mad I have it.~"

Melanie twisted her head back and grinned, instantly breaking the tension and sitting up to look at the phone screen presented to her.

On it was a picture of Jon passed out, mouth wide open and drooling, on the ugliest couch she'd ever seen.

"He still owns that couch by the way," Georgie said. Melanie waved a hand in her face to silence her as she took in the details.

Jon was in a pink crop top that Melanie was sure she'd seen in Georgie's closet, union jack boxers, gladiator sandals, and The Admiral was planted square on his chest, though he was about half the size of the fluffball that roamed the flat now. Surrounding them where piles of papers and books on the paranormal.

Melanie began to cackle.

"Our friend group used to call him '2 Drink Jon' and this was after he'd done four shots in the kitchen and decided to lecture us on how ghosts are bullshit and he could beat one in a fist fight," Georgie elaborated, "I'm still not sure when he ended up in that outfit but honestly, if we had recorded his rant he probably could have used it for his Masters thesis."

Melanie wheezed into her shoulder as tears began to stream down her face.

"2 Drink Jon was actually a lot more charismatic than sober Jon. This one time he almost had us convinced that he could talk to plants after two gin and tonics, granted we were also drunk but-,"

"Stop, please," Melanie wheezed, "I'm dying."

"Gosh, one of these days I'll have to tell you about tequila and the alien conspiracy. Randall could almost recite the whole speech from memory."

Melanie fell off the couch.

--

Post Episode 109

Julia and Trevor exchanged a look as the Archivist powered through the spiciest Thai food they could find without even breaking a sweat. 

It was supposed to be a joke, spiking Jon's food, the cashier had even given them a panicked look at the restaurant and Trevor's eyes had been watering the whole way back to the safe house. They'd even waited by the door in case Jon tried to make a break for the case of water bottles in the car but he just unwrapped the plastic fork and dug in without even asking for a drink.

Julia picked at her own food but couldn't quite manage to eat it and glanced back at Jon, "Are you sure you don't need a water or anything?"

Jon looked up for a moment, his eyes were more alive than they had been all day and practically sparkled in the shitty fluorescent light. He shook his head and instead reached for another packet of chili sauce to add to his food.

"What the hell is he," Trevor whispered to Julia in horror.

"I don't know but he's definitely not normal."

--

During Episode 132

Daisy had misjudged Jon. She'd grossly misjudged him.

She flexed her fingers around his, ignoring the way the sand dug into her skin, and gently pulled him closer. The man she'd called prey gave her a soft smile and compiled, pressing against her side like she'd never held a knife to his throat, like she hadn't just admitted to planning his murder before she was trapped here.

Daisy turned her head awkwardly and dug her face into his shoulder savoring the human contact, her tears soaking into his shirt.

The Hunt in her blood tried to sing, tried to fight the Buried, "Safe, Mine, Pack, Protect", it echoed faintly.

Jon said something and began to move, pulling Daisy forward along with him.

"Safe, Mine, Pack, Protect"

Hours past as they shimmied through the coffin, the pain of being scraped and crushed was overpowered by the sheer ecstasy of moving more than an inch every few days.

"Safe, Mine, Pack, Protect"

There was a door, Jon tucked himself under her arm and pulled her up the stairs to the blinding lights of the institute. She ducked her head down to his shoulder again and grimaced as her joints popped and groaned.

"Jon, you stupid idiot! What did you think-"

Daisy looked up to the person she thought she’d never see again and smiled.

"Hi."

--

Post Episode 132

Martin had horrible timing really. He just needed to pee, was that really too much to ask?

Of course it was. The universe hated him.

So instead of slipping into the private bathroom upstairs which was magically broken, he had to go down a level and walk in on Jon shaking dirt out of his clothes.

Martin was going to die here but at least he'd die happy.

Jon didn't even seem to register that someone else had joined him (thank the Lonely) so Martin took a second to sneak a guilty look before darting back out and hiding for 40 years.

Jon was painfully thin. Martin got the idea that he could count every vertebrae and rib if he was allowed and even at a glance he could spot the sunken area where at least one rib was now missing.

Worm scars and burns were peppered up his back along with a few moles and freckles. Little red marks circled his chest in a way that Martin immediately recognized as being from the black fabric crumpled at Jon's feet.

And to top it all off, much to Martin's delight, were a set of three black gears tattooed down Jon's right shoulder blade. Sasha had mentioned once that she had gone out for drinks with Jon when he first started and they'd managed to get on the topic of tattoos. Tim had spent months trying to get Jon to show it to him before 'giving up'.

Martin stepped out and stood in the hall for a moment, red faced and giddy, before stumbling off in search of another bathroom.

--

Somewhere between Episode 132-154

"Hey, guys?" Melanie called.

Daisy and Basira glanced up to see Melanie holding a giant plate of the best smelling food they'd seen in weeks. Steam wafted up into her very confused face.

"Did either of you make this? I went to ask Martin and I can't find him."

"I didn't make it," Basira said, "Daisy?"

"I once made spaghetti and lit it on fire.

Basira grimaced and walked up to Melanie, "Kebabs, Tahdig rice, flat bread, and jam cookies. Those are Iranian dishes, or Middle Eastern at least.”

Daisy looked at Basira, "How do you know that?"

"Took a foreign cuisine course focused on middle eastern food a few years ago," Basira said as she made her way to the kitchen area with the group in tow.

Sitting on the table were three more huge plates of food and two empty plates sitting in the sink. Martin was standing next to the table with pure confusion on his face.

"Did you make this?"

Martin jumped and looked at the group, "Uh, no? I really only do pastas… this is a little outside my skill set. I think-"

"It could be a trap," Daisy interrupted, "Maybe it's laced with something?"

"No, I'm pretty sure-"

"Could be, but who would go to this effort, the Web?" Basira said.

"Guys, it was probably-"

"It was the Archivist!" Helen exclaimed from behind them, somehow having opened her door without making a sound and scaring the shit out of them, "He is an excellent cook."

"Bullshit," Melanie wheezed, setting her plate down before she dropped it.

"No, she right," Martin sighed, "Jon actually cooked something similar a few years ago for a company thing. He gave this whole speech about how grandparents immigrated here from Iran, well Persia at the time, and his grandma made him learn to cook what she called 'real food'."

"You mean to tell me that Jonathan Sims, the skinniest guy I have ever met, can cook like this," Basira said in disbelief before cautiously sitting down at the table with the rest following suit.

"He called it his grandmother's curse," Helen provided cheerfully, "He said that no matter what he does,  he always makes far more than he needs and never has people around to give it to. So he just never cooks."

"You talked to him?" Melanie asked. Daisy began to pick at a plate and made a sound of confusion and delight at the taste.

"Oh yes, he even let me help by getting things off high shelves!"

"This is amazing," Daisy said in disbelief before grabbing a fork and beginning to eat in earnest.

"It is! Jon and I had a lovely chat and I'm not much for 'real' food these days but he really convinced me!" Helen declared, spinning back around to re enter her door, "And I must say it was delightful."

"Huh," Basira shrugged and began to eat.

Not bad.

--

Post Episode 159

For the second time since he woke up, Martin pinched himself. He had to be dreaming, the smaller body smooshed up against his chest and the boney limbs clinging to him had to be a figment of his imagination.

Jon huffed in his sleep and burrowed deeper into Martin before settling again. A few stray rays of the morning sun slipped through the blinds highlighting Jon’s gray hairs and the raised edges of scars that trailed along his skin.

Gently, Martin carded his hand through the wild mess of hair, marveling at how soft it was despite everything. Jon sighed, leaning into the touch without stirring.

He could stay like this forever, with Jon safe in his arms and the dangers of the world outside, away from his happiness.

"Wha' time?" Jon mumbled, stretching before re-draping himself over Martin. He looked up and the light caught his eyes in a way that Martin could see all the blue heterochromatic spots in Jon's left eye through dark, heavy lashes. 

"Doesn't matter," Martin whispered as he pulled him closer, "We have all the time in the world."

--

Supplemental Headcanons: - Jon is a 3rd gen Persian/Iranian immigrant. His grandparents on his dad's side moved to England post WWII. (Persia became Iran in 1979) They took the last name Sims during immigration. - His mother was full blooded English. - He can out cook 87% of the local grandma's when he really gets into it - He built an unnaturally high tolerance to salt and spice as a kid to keep people from taking his lunch or trying to mess with his food and now thoroughly enjoys spicy foods. - Jon does care a lot but his grandma never taught him to show it in any other way but tolerance and mute acceptance. It's hard to know where you stand with Jon because of this. - Was a runner while in school. - Was forced to take violin lessons as a kid and Georgie taught him some piano in University. - Jon is and always has been feral little man though he is more bark than bite (unless he's under the influence of something). He learned it from his grandma. - He's one of those drunks that often wanders/ runs away from his drinking group. He has strong drunk college girl tendencies. - He changed his middle name to Ulysses when he got his first name legally changed because he’s a nerd. - Jon has had the same pen pal since he was 10. They are one of the few points of normalcy he has left. - Jon and Daisy are trans mlm and wlw solidarity. Fight me.

Fun Fact: Sims means "the Listener" which seems almost too on the nose.

[youarejesting]

BTS365 Prompts

[Masterlist] Please tag me in your work if you use my prompts. I want to see your work. Ever your Jester.

Warning: talk of death and near death. I am an OT7 Stan but have never really felt like a strong urge to write about JK until his prompt I want to continue his and Tae’s. 🤔🤔🤔

Tell me your birthday and I will tag you on your special day!

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           April 9th - 15th

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Kim Seokjin: Siblings

Your best friend invited you to his house for a sleepover, you were excited but when you knocked on the door bag in hand it opened to a young man a couple of years older than you. He was handsome. And you didn’t know what to say. 

“Jin your friend is here” “Y/n come in”  “Who is that?” “That’s my older brother” Jin led you inside and to his room, “why do you ask?” “He is hot obvs”

“Oh” Jin felt kind of disappointed, another person had fallen in love with his brother and here he was in love with his clueless best friend.  “I’m just going to pee, don’t play the movie without me” you ran off ducking past Jin’s brother and you paused in the hall wanting to see what he thought about you?”

“Hey did you tell her?” “Tell her what?” “That you are madly in love with her and have been for years” “I can’t she just met you?” “What does that mean?”

“It means she is in love with you now everyone loves my handsome brother” you went to the bathroom and tried to ignore what you heard, your best friend loves you they were just joking maybe they weren’t talking about you you realised they didn’t even use your name. Yeah, you had just met his brother but maybe they had a visitor earlier today.

You sighed you had taken the floor for sleeping, you couldn’t sleep with all those thoughts but with the uncertainty that they were actually talking about you, you felt a wave of relaxation. 

You climbed into the bed next to Jin and laid your head on his wide shoulder. It was in his sleep he said ‘I love you y/n’ it was as clear as day. Heart racing you turned burying your face into his chest and hugging him tightly. Who were you kidding you loved him and you hoped like hell he had meant you.

Min Yoongi: Barbershop

Yoongi worked at a barbershop, it wasn’t a hard job. He liked it because he never had to speak to women. Unless of course, a mother was bringing her son in which case he wouldn’t make eye contact and would request another staff member would take over. Yoongi had nothing against women but he got nervous around him his cheeks would burn the brightest red and he would stutter his way through the conversation. Then he would continue with his day beating himself up about what he should have said.

He was just finishing up some guy’s hair cut and his coworker grinned, “Hey I am going to get some coffee and lunch what do you want and I will bring it back?” “Uh coffee and something good” he shrugged “Alright, you think you will be okay?” “I am an adult, I can deal with it, I am not going to burn the place down”

He had spoken too soon, a girl came in. Long legs in a beautiful dress that fell so pretty over your hips curvaceous hips. Yoongi felt warm already focusing on the mirror and talking to his current client about booking in again. The client new Yoongi well enough to know his condition around women.

“Yes I will book again for a month” he teased the two went to the counter to pay subtly watching you scan the service price list. “You have a great day Yoongi” “Yeah see you round Hobi”  “Maybe you could ask her on a date?” Hoseok whispered earning a sprit from the spray bottle of Yoongi’s hip.

You approached and he starred at the computer cheeks pinked as he asked you politely questions, “I am just wanting to reshave the sides of my head” 

He looked up shocked from his nervousness you lifted both sides of your hair to reveal that they were indeed shorter than the rest. He thought that was pretty badass and yet you still looked unbelievably cute with it.

“Right this way?” he began and you started asking him questions and his heart was thumping loudly and his cheeks were darkening some more. “Sorry, I am not good at talking well to others” “More specifically pretty women?” a regular stepped in and sat right next to you in the chair “The prettier the girl is the darker his cheeks get, I have never seen him this flustered”

“that’s enough” you scolded the man “My hair is on the line here don’t embarrass him further. “Tell me about her she must have been really pretty”

Jung Hoseok: Grilled cheese

You had been in Korea for two years now and working with the BigHit company as a backup dancer for concerts and things. Working alongside the TXT boys and one afternoon you stayed in the dance studio practising choreography when your phone started ringing. It was your sister back in your home country. She wanted to check on how you were doing and tell you about news from home, but all you could focus on was that she was eating a grilled cheese sandwich and your mouth watered. 

After talking for a little too long, you hung up and went to go through the choreography one last time before you had to leave back to your apartment. You didn’t realise you were crying homesick until the music stopped. The door opened and you didn’t bother turning from your hunched position on the floor openly sobbing into your hands. “Hey, are you okay?”

Looking up you saw him Jung Hoseok better known as Jhope was standing their dressed ready for practice and you realised you had definitely stayed too long. Scrambling to your feet you wiped at your eyes, apologizing and packing up your things. He grabbed your arm and stopped you from running off, you looked at his shoes unable to look him in the eyes. He was handsome and way out of your league. 

“Tell me what has you so upset?” No coherent words escaped your mouth as you sobbed into your hands, Jhope pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you. The only word you had gotten out clearly in your whines was ‘Grilled cheese’ he didn’t mean to laugh but it just burst out of him. “Grilled cheese? I am so sorry that’s just really funny to hear someone cry over”

Understanding what he meant you were reduced to fits of giggles as well and you wiped your eyes, looking up at him. The tip of your nose was red. “I am sorry I miss home and I just wanted comfort food” He pulled out his phone and grinned down at you as he ordered some grilled cheese sandwiches and told you to show him what you had been practising.

Kim Namjoon: Scrabble

“Quixotic” Namjoon smiled at his wife, this was not how you expected to start your honeymoon but you could tell he was nervous. “Okay, Yeet” You made a throwing action with your arm and Namjoon looked up at you he wasn’t amused.

“That’s not a word baby” “We pretended yours was a word” “It is a word it means not sensible about practical matters; idealistic and unrealistic and I think you are being a bit quixotic with your supposed words” He laughed at you and you wanted to through the board.

“I think you are being a bit quixotic if you think we are going to do anything tonight, you just took your rights to see what is under my dress and yeet them out the window” “Baby, no don’t be like that” He frowned “You can have yeet, we can add slang words if you want”

“What I want is to stop playing and spend some time with my husband who I married today, goddamn it Joon, I am still in my wedding dress, I wanted you to take it off me” “Oh, Let me just yeet this game out of the way” scrabble tiles were sent flying.

Park Jimin: High

Jimin came home after a long day at work his best friend Taehyung on the floor with his roommate. The two of giggling and eating snacks while watching a documentary about a carpet company. He could smell the funky smell that was weed.

“That looks so freaking soft” Taehyung snickered slapping the tv screen. “It’s trapped behind some forcefield but it looks like I could just touch it” “That one looks like your hair” you pointed to the back of his head as he was in front of the tv, he jumped back as the screen changed to a machine cutting and rolling carpet and you looked amazed, “Why is everything moving so slow?”

“It’s spinning carpet”  “Tae there is carpet on your head and it feels so shaggy?” you were both now playing in each others hair.

“What the hell are you doing!” Pausing you both looked at each other “Tae I think I just heard god?” “God sounds like Jimin” “That’s because I am Jimin” you both turned and your eyes lit up happily

“Jimin is god, and his hair is made of the softest carpet!” You both tackled Jimin and ran your hands all over him, “Jimin god can I kiss you?” “Oh me too me too” Tae shouted and he rolled his eyes at the two of you.

Kim Taehyung: The Law

How the hell did you get here? One moment you were jokingly trying on a wedding dresses with your best friend who was soon to be married when a guy in a fancy suit asked if you would help him get out of an arranged marriage by pretending you were married. He said he just needed a few photos and your name and number encase he needed to follow up with anything. You agreed but here you were having dinner with his family who said they wanted to invite you home for Christmas and you really couldn’t refuse. 

Except here you were on a farm super confused. You were led to his room and you blushed to unpack into the spare drawers and he kept throwing you guilty looks. His parents and siblings were super nice and they taught you how to cook and clean it was a good time. It was raining heavily and a long way to walk back across the farm so you laid a blanket over the bales of straw and got comfy. He sang some strange songs and told funny stories and the rain didn’t let up. Falling asleep you woke to his coat around you both and his arms tightly around you. Your marriage wasn’t binding by law but for now, you wished it was.

Jeon Jungkook: Sky (I am making into a social media story) [Read me]

You were in a car accident you couldn’t feel your legs they were pinned and some part of the engine had broken through into the cabin and pierced straight into your lung. You felt tired and it was hard to breathe. 

Waking with a start you realized it was all a dream, a memory from the past, you were alive and healthy, the rain outside was strong and caused an ache in your old wounds. Flattening your palm to your rib cage you took a shaky breath. There was a sound on your balcony and your dog cloudy was barking. You walked over to the balcony to see a man standing on the railing like he was going to jump.

You froze for a moment before throwing the door open. “Excuse me, sir” He turned to face you, he had a handsome face and his hair slicked back. His eyes brushed over your form and he smirked. 

“If only you were the poor soul I was taking tonight, cause damn girl” he turned back away and touched his earpiece, “Yoongi where is this guy I am collecting” “I am sorry who are you taking and where? Are you a kidnapper? What’s with the outfit? And why my balcony?” You were seriously confused running a hand through your hair. He froze shoulders tensing up and he turned jumping long black wings thrown out as he landed inches from your face. “Oh”

“Can you see me?” “Ahhh no?” you said looking away from him, he was tall towering over you, he grabbed your cheeks in his hand pulling your face back to his. “When you lie you should try to be more believable love, can you see me?” “What am I supposed to say?” he looked at your figure up and down with glowing eyes and you slapped tried to cover yourself, he lifted your little nightgown and looked at your ribcage he touched the large scar. 

“You were supposed to die that day, I wonder wha-” You slapped him across the face, pulling your nightdress back down and he smirked leaning back on the railing. “I have seen worse, then your lace knickers love” 

He caught your wrist before you could slap him again and he turned. You followed his gaze and saw something big fall behind him, it was like everything went slow motion and you saw a face horrified falling from the sky.

“We will continue this conversation later, I have a soul to collect”

[navalcriminalimagines]

What are we?

Hi guys! This is my first NCIS work! I’ve been thinking about it for a very long time and I thought it was time to write it down. I really hope you’ll enjoy it!! Please, tell me what you think!!

Prompt: your best friend McGee becomes a dad and it makes you think about what you really want

Gibbs x Reader, Pride x Reader

Words: 3,339

“Y/N?” McGee called you for the third time. You were so focused on the little girl in your arms, you completely avoid everyone around you. You finally heard your name and hummed in answer, without raising your head. You couldn’t stop staring at Morgane and how beautiful she is. “Y/N, I know my daughter is beautiful but can you look at me for a sec?” Tim asked and you finally looked at him. You also saw Delilah on her bed, with John in her arms, smiling at you.

“Is everything okay?” You wondered. “Maybe you want me to leave the four of you alone?” You exclaimed, cause you realized that everyone was gone except you. And you haven’t put Morgane down since you picked her up an hour ago.

“Not yet. But soon,” Delilah joked to reassure you. “Tim and I have something to ask you,” You looked at them, questioned.

“Do you want to be their godmother?” Tim finally asked. You stayed stoned for a few seconds until the information came to your brain. If you weren’t carrying one of the twins, you probably would have jumped in the air, excitingly. But instead, you simply looked down at Morgane again to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “I’d love to you,” you tried to say as casual as possible. But Tim was no fool and he was your best friend for over 10 years now.

“Y/N, are you crying?” Tim asked. You turned around to the window, avoiding the newly parents. “No,” you lied, crying.

**

That night, you stayed awake for long hours, probably more than usual. Your work at NCIS prevent you from sleeping correctly since you first started, but you were used to it by now. You started as an Agent the same year as Timothy, the two of you were the Probies and probably due to being a woman, Tony gave you less hard times than your coworker. You grew up with Tim, you became adults and good agents together. And now? He is married to a wonderful lady and father of twins. You? You are just in the same place you were ten years ago, single, no kids and in love with your boss. At first, it was just a crush and you thought it would go away, but it never did. It increased. Which explains why you’ve never been able to date a man more than 6 months. It always end with guys breaking up because of your job, how invested you are in it, and two guys found out about you being in love with Gibbs.

Why can you not move on for those feelings? It’s ruining your life. Everything you thought you’d have by the time you’re 35, you don’t. You and Gibbs built a very special relationship through the years. Sometimes, it looks like a romantic relationship, with flirtation and tenderness, but sometimes, it feels like friendship. You figured out everyone knows about your feelings for him and the relationship he doesn’t have with anyone else, but no one dare to say anything about it over than casual jokes, like calling him your ”work husband”. Husband. It sounds so wonderfully when you think about Gibbs. But you’re not a redhead, like his ex wives.

**

You take your godmother’s role very seriously. You spend as much time as possible with the twins, helping Tim and Delilah every time they need it. Just like tonight, the twins are now five months old and the parents could really used a date night so you offered to babysit. The beginning of the evening went good, you managed to feed John first and then Morgane. Thankfully, Delilah gave them a bath before they left so that was something you didn’t have to do. But putting them into bed was complicated. Neither of them wanted to sleep, and when one cries, the other cries too. Rocking the two at the same time was impossible, they were moving so much while crying, you were scared to let them drop. You considered calling Tim but you didn’t want to ruin their night, so you could the other person that came to your mind. You can never forget how great Gibbs is with kids, no matter how old they are.

By the time your boss showed up at the apartment, you had vomit all over your shirt - thanks to Morgane - and the twins were still crying in their room. Gibbs laughed when he saw your face and followed the sounds. He picked up the baby girl and started to rock her in his arms. ”Take John and follow my lead,” he ordered and you did so.

Rocking John, you couldn’t help but stare at Gibbs with Morgane. He was so kind and soft, he’s meant to be a father. A part of you understand he doesn’t want to have other kids after what happened to Kelly, but your brain just imagined what if those twins were yours and his. What if the two of you were married.

”Uncle Gibbs is here, baby girl,” he whispered to Morgane who was calming down, just like John. ”Did aunt Y/N cook for you? Is that why you’re so mad?” He joked.

”Hey!!” You exclaimed, offended. It’s not a secret how bad of a cooker you are. Or, were. Because of all the teasing through the years, you took cooking class a few months ago. But nobody knows about it. You kept thinking about how great it would be to cook again for Gibbs without setting his kitchen on fire. ”I’m much better than I used to,” you said. ”Right, my loves?” You said to the twins who were falling asleep.

”Is that even possible?”

”Let me show you whenever you’re free,”

”I’m always free. But at your place, I don’t want to rebuild my kitchen again,” he smiled at you, teasingly and you rolled your eyes. ”Let’s try to put them in bed,”

As softly as possible, you and Gibbs put the twins in bed. They seemed to be in deep sleep now, but you know they may wake up in a few hours. You let a small light in their room and went back to the kitchen with Gibbs on your toes. You tried to wipe the vomit stain away from your shirt but it was obviously ruined. Gibbs took the towel from your hands, wet it and replaced what you were doing. The stain is right above your left breast, his body was so close to yours, just like its been so many times. His smell was intoxicating like always.

”Thanks for the help,” you whispered.

”What kind of godfather would I be if I didn’t show up?” He said. And your heart skipped a beat. Tim and Delilah has been telling you they haven’t agreed on who to choose as the godfather yet. But obviously they did? Since when?

”You are— I didn’t know you were their godfather,” you confessed.

”They asked me the same day as you but I wasn’t sure I wanted to have this responsibility,” Gibbs said, still wiping your shirt.

”Why?”

He hummed but didn’t say anything. He is not a big talker, everybody knows that but he also knows sometimes he doesn’t have to talk with you. You just understand. You know things. And that’s something Gibbs really loves about you, between many other things. Of course, he loves you. He has for many years now. Which is exactly why he never tried anything. He avoids love since Shannon died. Sometimes, he wished you’d leave NCIS, before realizing he absolutely can’t live without you. Whenever you mentioned a date or a boyfriend, it felt like someone shoot him right in his heart. Selfishly, he is glad you haven’t date anyone in almost two years now. It feels like you’re all his, even if there’s no romantic relationships between you, or at least, not clearly.

”So— we are godparents of the twins,” you smiled.

”That, we are,” he answered, smirking.

”Is that all we are?” You whispered without restraining yourself. In the same second, you wish he didn’t hear it.

”What?”

”Nothing. Have you eaten?” You asked, taking a few steps away from him.

”Not yet. You?”

”I’ve been babysitting for the last three hours, so no, I didn’t even have time to pee,”

”Very romantic,” he smiled.

”It’s not a date, I don’t have to be romantic. Plus, I’m a total mess right now. But— I’m going to show how my cooking skills improved,” you searched into Tim and Delilah’s kitchen the ingredients you need to make a nice dish.

”You’re never a mess, even full of mud,” he laughed, recalling the memory of you falling into the mud during an investigation years ago.

”Oh my god, don’t remind me that day please.” You started to cut onions. You could feel Gibbs’ gaze on you but you tried to avoid it. He intensely watched you perfectly cutting the onions.

”Y/N?” He asked.

”Yeah?”

”Did you learn how to cook?” You felt your cheeks turning into shades of pink but you didn’t say anything, just smile.

Gibbs quickly offered his help and you cook together, or at least you gave him orders. Once it was done, you settled on the couch, set the coffee table and used Tim’s Netflix account. Months ago, you spent the night at Gibbs’ and you made him watch La Casa de Papel. Actually he pretended to like it, but what he enjoys is to cuddle with you under blankets and watching you enjoying the show.

That night feels like you and Gibbs are parents who enjoys a peaceful and calm night. After eating what you cooked, you got closer to him, and he put his arm around to let you rest on his chest. This is where you belong. You know it deep inside you. You belong with him. Why can’t he see it?

Around 1am, Tim and Delilah came back home to find you and your boss sleeping on the couch, your head on Gibbs’ chest and his arms holding you close, with Netflix still on. They smile at each other and Delilah went to check on the twins while Tim woke you up. ”What time is it?” You mumbled and when Gibbs spotted his male agent, he immediately sat up.

”1am. Everything went well?”

”Yeah, I save your place,” Your boss said and you hit his arm.

”Now, I have to clean the entire apartment tomorrow,” Tim said. You looked at him, confused. The apartment was not a terrible mess. ”I lost the bet. Delilah was sure you’d call Gibbs for help,” She came back at the same moment.

”Thank you for your trust, Mrs McGee.” You said, falsely offended and she laughed.

”I know what it’s like to take care of two babies, you have no idea how many times I want to call Tim for help,”

”Tim can take some time off, you know,” Gibbs said to Delilah, before turning his attention to you. ”Ride home?”

You nodded, went to kiss the twins and left with Gibbs.

”Do you mind sleeping at my house?” He asked. You live further than him, and you could see on his face he just wants to go back to sleep.

”Fine by me,” you agreed.

His house is practically yours, to be honest. There are some of your clothes somewhere and you just do whatever you want to do, when you want to do it. Which explains why you directly went to his bedroom to grab one of his shirts and you found a legging that belongs to you. Downstairs, Jethro was almost sleeping on his couch, you considered go upstairs to sleep in his bed but his voice stopped you before you left the room.

”Where you going?”

”In your bed— if that’s okay?”

”Come next to me, instead,” he opened his arms.

The small size of the couch forced the two of you to be really close, not that you mind. Apparently, he doesn’t either. He kissed the top of your head, one of his hand was stroking your hair while the other was on your back. Your face was buried in his neck. ”Jethro?” You whispered, and he hummed in answer.

”What are we?”

He took a moment to answer. ”Coworkers? Friends? Best friends?” You could feel tears forming in your eyes and you sat up, turning your back to him.

”Is that it?” You asked with a small voice but he didn’t answer. ”I want more, J. I need more,” you confessed. You don’t really know why it’s coming out right now, tonight but it does and you can’t stop yourself. ”I love you. A lot. And not like a friend— Tonight with the twins, that’s what I want. But with kids of our own. I mean— you’re the only reason I’m still single. Cause no matter who I’m with, you’re all I can think about. You’re the only one I want, Leroy.” Tears were now streaming down your face and you couldn’t turn around to look at him. He hasn’t move. He hasn’t spoke. ”If you don’t feel the same way, that’s totally okay. But you have to tell me. It’s been ten years and I can’t keep going like this. I need something concrete, something real, you know?” Still nothing coming from him. Not a move, not a word. You stayed a moment like this, waiting for him to do something, anything. But he didn’t. So you stood up, take a look at him but he avoided your gaze. You sighed and grabbed your things. You stopped for a moment before leaving, giving him another chance to speak but he stayed silent, so you left.

**

The next week seemed to be too long and awkward. You and Gibbs barely talked, a part of what needed to be say to do the work. A few people asked you what was going on but you just raised your shoulders and stayed silent. Nobody needed to know what a ridiculous declaration you gave to Jethro. It could be like nothing happened, like you haven’t say anything, but he changed. He’s avoiding you. No smile, no looks, no time alone. Nothing. And everyday you feel worst than the day before.

A new case came in and you had to work with the New Orleans team. Thanks god, you thought. It will change the mood from the past few days and you could used the distraction from Dwayne and Tammy. You already met them, you even spent around two weeks in there town. They are completely different from your squad. Work hard and having a lot of fun. One night there, you got drunk at Dwayne’s bar and almost hook up with him if he hadn’t stop you.

“You’re drunk, I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret this,” he told you back then. The next morning, you regretted to have ridiculously kissed him. But a part of you regretted not to have sex with him too.

“Hello my darlin’” Dwayne greeted you. You literally jumped from your desk to hug him, he kissed your cheek and you did the same. You hugged Tammy too while Dwayne said hello to the rest of the team. Him and Gibbs are old friends, they started together in NCIS.

“What’s happening to the Marine haircut?” Dwayne joked. Gibbs hasn’t been to the hairdresser lately, and you found him even more attractive like this. But you can’t tell him, of course.

You all quickly had a brief update on the case, but it was getting late already so Gibbs called it off for the night. ”I guess you’re sleeping on my couch?” Your boss said to Dwayne. ”Gregorio, you staying at Y/N’s,” Tammy looked at you to be sure it was okay. Of course it is, but the fact that Gibbs didn’t ask bothered you.

”Boss, what if I’m not alone tonight?!” You lied. You secretly hoped it would make him jealous but nothing appeared on his face, he stayed neutral just like he always does.

”Aren’t you?” He simply answered.

”I guess now I’m not, for sure,”

”Good.”

Gibbs started to walk to the elevator, but Dwayne didn’t follow yet. ”I thought we could have dinner all together?” The New Orleans boss said. Gibbs turned around, apparently not interested in that offer.

”I’d love to,” you smiled to Dwayne. ”Tammy?”

”I’m in!” She answered.

Tim declined the invitation, Delilah and the twins were waiting for him. Ellie joined in, as well as Nick, Reeves and Abby. Usually, the squad never met to have dinner or just a drink like this. Gibbs reluctantly accepted after Dwayne made him to.

**

Gibbs kept ignoring you, so you started to drink. A lot. You hoped it would make you stop looking at him, searching for anything on his face, in his moves. Eventually, it made you flirty with Dwayne just like you were in New Orleans. There were laughs, looks and small gestures. You quickly were on your fourth mojito, you felt dizzy but at least, you didn’t care about Gibbs sitting right in front of you. All your attention was on Dwayne and all of his was on you. ”Wanna dance?” D whispered in your ear. You smiled, grabbed his hand and walked to the dancefloor. It was a sexy dance, Dwayne’s body was against yours, his hands traveled your back and waist, while yours touched his torso and neck. One moment, one of his hand was almost on your butt, but he stopped himself before going further. You laughed, ”I don’t mind you touching my ass. I can’t remember the last time someone did it,”

”I’d love to, especially without the fabric between our skins— but I can feel a lot of eyes on us,” he said in your ear.

”How about you stay at my place tonight and Tammy goes at Gibbs’” you offered, flirtatious.

”Hmm— I’m not sure Gregorio would like that,”

”Then, you two at my place, but we’ll have to be quiet,” you smirked, your mouth was almost touching his.

”Y/N, you’re drunk,” he said. ”Would you still want to have sex with me without any alcohol?”

”I could prove it to you, tomorrow morning,”

Dwayne snorted, still swaying with you but the music was now a slow dancing. You stayed in his arms for a moment before he took a step away, ”Wait, my driver’s taking off,”

You turned around to see Gibbs leaving the bar. Dwayne chased him and you don’t know why but you followed them. They were already talking when you reached for them, you were standing behind Gibbs who hasn’t seen you unlike Dwayne.

“She’ll drive you,” you heard Gibbs say, bitterly.

“Is there a problem, Jethro? Don’t like what you saw?”

“What? You almost fucking her on the dance floor? I loved it,” he answered sarcastically.

“It’s my fault you don’t have the guts to tell her how you feel? She’s so into you. Why do you think she drunk that much and flirt with me? Because you’re a stupid stubborn pain in the ass,” Gibbs stayed silent. “Fight your fears or let her go,”

By the time they ended their little fight, you were ugly crying behind Gibbs. You’re pretty sure he knew you were there from the beginning. Maybe he used Dwayne so you could hear some explanations? Of course he is afraid. He was so in love once and she got killed, with their little girl. He can’t take that risk again. He is too afraid.

“He’s right, J.” You spoke up. “If you don’t want to be with me, let me go. And I mean— fire me.” He turned around to face you. You were about to take back what you just said but you didn’t. It may be now or never.

“Fine,” he breathed out. “Clear your desk first thing in the morning,” he said before leaving you — and Dwayne — on the sidewalk.

[datingintampafails]

Epilogue: Jake*

Despite how things started to get at the end, the beginning and everything in our relationship was beautiful, and just how I want a relationship to be. I wish it could have continued that way, and maybe I started to get a little greedy towards the end. I mourn what could have been. At the time of me posting this, I miss him dearly and he seems like he’s doing great (he is posting on social media a lot more than he ever did when we were together). I liked how he challenged me in a positive light, expanding my world views. By the time I post this, over a month after we stopped seeing each other, I have heard from him once. He says he is doing well and still working on “everything,” though that is not clear. The conspiracy theory of my friend is that his mom doesn’t like me for some reason, and that she pressured him into ending things with me, though it is unclear why. This is because of their close relationship and one time I had him tell her hi for me and either he didn’t, or he did and she said nothing back; he also would avoid having me over when she was with him. Tell me if you have any theories too! I am curious. 

Other stories and memories we had together that I couldn’t quite place chronologically.

The week before our first sleepover, we went on a shopping trip together to Target. He wanted to get some shirts, and I was just along for the ride. We also went to Total Wine & More so he can buy a gift for his family friend’s birthday. I was highly entertained walking around with him and being goofy in the store. While we were there, he had to take a call with a client for work and I got to hear his “customer service” voice. I tell him that I want him to talk to me in it all the time. 

It is worth note that the second time he was ever over, he logged onto his HBO Max account for me and said it was mine to use.  He was supposed to make me a profile on there, but he never did. The week of us breaking up, suddenly I was logged out of it which prompted me to also kick him out of my Hulu account.

One time when Jake* was drunk, he asked me to watch him pee from the door. I don’t know why. He wanted to keep having the conversation we were having and wanted me intimately close I guess?

He loves drinking Motts for Tots. It has less sugar and he thought they tasted better, so I got Motts for Tots. It was alright.

When Jake* found out that Ethan* and I had had sex, that is, I was always upfront we had been dating for a bit of time, but was admittedly sketchy about the sex part, he wasn’t mean, but was not happy with me. He said that I had lied to him, which I hadn’t, I just was quick to change the subject when Jake* made a joke about Ethan*’s dick once. In the end though, Jake* said, “Look, all that matters is now. You’re here with me now. If you didn’t want to be with me then you wouldn’t be so it’s cool.” This conversation flipped jealousy on its head and is something that I will always remember as the right way to respond to these situations. A mature man he could be. 

He watches porn with his VR helmet. No story there, just a factoid.

Moderately early on, after I got my car, I was over at his place. Jokingly I looked out the window and said “who’s car is that?” He says “my girlfriend’s.” I tease him immensely, “your who??? What???? You called me your girlfriend OooOoOOoOoo.” He tries to cover his slip up but the damage is done. The next time we were together I asked him more or less if that was where we were at and he said he wanted to be together with each other a little longer before being official. I am totally fine with that, as I just enjoy spending time with him.

Early in the relationship, we were once having sex and then took a break and he was fingering me. My arms were feeling weird, tingly. As we continued, my hands started cramping to the point I could no longer move them. They started to hurt and we had to stop. The experience was freaking me out so I started crying. Both completely naked still, Jake* took me into his arms and held me, telling me it was going to be okay and I was probably dehydrated. He helped me get dressed and kissed my forehead. He helped me get back to the couch and gave me water to drink. This was a very touching moment for me. After 10 minutes my hands started to relax and I felt okay again. 

When it was Prime Day(s) I took it upon myself to order him a Firestick since he said he wanted one, it was on sale, and he said he wasn’t making any purchases because he just got a really high bill. I bought it for him and was gonna have it be a surprise, so I didn’t tell him. He was telling me one day his mom was buying him one, and then I admitted I had bought him one too. I tried to cancel it but was unable to. I told him just to keep it and return one, but that if he was keeping the one his mom gave him, that I would return it for him.

I got a care package from one of my workplaces since I had coronavirus, they sent me a gift card to GrubHub, and unknowingly, I let Jake* put it on his account one night when we were ordering food. Come to find out, that there was $100 on that card, and we were unable to take it off his account once we added it. So he got to have all that money basically.

Either the last or second to last time I saw him, he was asking me if he could have my positive rapid test results, for him to edit digitally and put into his work. I told him I didn't know where it was, which was true, but more I didn’t feel comfortable doing that. When we were breaking up, I was going to give him it as a peace offering. Since he didn’t want his stuff back though, I didn't give him it.

We never added each other on Facebook.

He told me pretty early on about his childhood and adolescence, which included him somehow getting a tattoo gun at 14 and giving himself and his best friend tattoos. Therefore, he has a lot of dumb tattoos, including one on the inside of his lip.

There was a day I was at his place. After sex, my underwear was more or less not wearable so I asked to wear some of his clothes. He gave me a pair of boxer briefs and a t-shirt of his to wear. The briefs were the comfiest thing I’ve ever worn and I was having a good time wearing them. He told me I could have them since they don’t really fit him anymore. He also said that he wanted me to have a t-shirt of his so I could wear it at home. Very sweet gesture. However, he never actually gave me them to keep. A good and bad thing considering the end. 

My coworker brought in some yearbooks of when she went to school with Jake*. I took many photos and thought he definitely looked like a cute goofy kid. I told him I saw them and then would joke with my coworker that he broke up with me because she showed me his middle school photos. 

[softjeon]

A second request for drabble game please (I will keep it to 2 and not be greedy!), would be yoonmin (or Yoongi x other member of choice if you don't like the pairing) and coffee shop AU; barista and regular customer who is very particular about their order. Thank you again my sweet dears! ^-^

— GENRE; fluff | — PAIRING; Yoongi x Jimin | — DISCLAIMER; none— Wordcount; 1,8k  — written with @cassiavioletblue 

Yoongi looked up with a frown when the door opened. It was icy outside and every time someone came in he felt the cold rush of air hitting him full force. The cotton uniform he was wearing did nothing to keep him warm and all he wanted to do was snuggle up with three layers of clothes and some hot tea at home. Before he could do that he would have to pass another 6 hours though. 

Yoongi suppressed a sigh and took the girls order. She was wearing a skirt and just looking at her made him feel cold - even though he wished he could snatch her cozy scarf away or the fingerless gloves she was wearing. Apparently he had zoned out a little while dreaming of knitwear and warmth because only someone clearing his throat brought him back to earth. he flinched a little when he saw that it was a regular customer that he had ignored. 

“Oh, I’m.. I’m sorry!” He quickly apologized. He straightened himself with flaming cheeks and tried to be professional again. ”Will it be the usual?”

The young man with the washed out pink hair nodded his head, “Yes, don’t forget the one and a half scoop of sugar though.” He bit his lip, cheeks blushing in a light rosé color when Jimin saw the smile on the baristas face. Although he was here often, not many of the workers here got his order right, or thought of it as weird. In his opinion, he was just really particular about how he liked his coffee. “Half of the strong coffee and half of the usual, please and…”

“I know, I know!” Yoongi chuckled. He had said ‘the usual’ because it was way shorter than repeating what Jimin had said to him the first time he had been here. Yoongi had blinked at him in confusion, pretty sure that the other was joking or doing some silly dare. However he came back two days later to order the same. And the same after that. “It’s half a cup of coffee, the strong brew and the one with the mild taste mixed together. It’s one and a half spoon of sugar, level ones, not heaped spoonfuls. it’s one pump of vanilla syrup, the sugar free stuff and 100 ml hazelnut milk, the organic one. The rest of the cup will be filled with fresh water. As I said: the usual.” He winked at him cheekily.

Jimin’s smile grew even brighter, when Yoongi was listing down all the ingredients that made the perfect cup of coffee in his opinion. “Thank you,” He mumbled and moved along to the side, while the barista turned his back on him and started doing exactly what he had listed only moments ago. On days, where Yoongi wasn’t working, Jimin always had to interfere to make sure it was done right, but with him – it was much easier. He still observed how he was preparing his coffee closely, but he did it way more relaxed.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Jimin said softly, glad there weren’t many people in the café as he took the steaming cup from Yoongi. “I’m really sorry I’m making you do this each time. You must think I’m the weirdest person you’ve ever met.”

“The weirdest? Oh, if you think that you obviously never worked in a coffee shop before!” Yoongi chuckled when he remembered his latest encounter with “weird.” Two days ago there was a guy who wanted to get his coffee in a tupperware container because he ‘wanted to take it home’. When I tried to tell him that the ‘to go’ sign at the door means he can actually take them home without bringing a box he looked at me as if I’d insulted him. In the end he wanted me to use the tupperware nonetheless. Oh, or that one group of teenagers who made a bet of how many espresso shots it would take before someone would get a heart attack. Or that girl who asked me to pee into the coffee because she had found out that her boyfriend was cheating on her and she told me she ‘couldn’t aim like a guy’.”

“So, I’m not number one on your weirdest customers-list?” Jimin felt relief, chuckling at all the scenarios Yoongi was talking about. He had hoped in his heart that Yoongi really didn’t think of him as weird, because he thought of him so differently. Yoongi was everything but weird. He was cute, kind and always nice to him. He never laughed once about his order and always made him feel warm and welcome. And when he winked Jimin’s heart did a jump each time. Taehyung had said that he had a crush on him and with each visit, he had to admit that he really did. Jimin smiled, taking his cup in his hand as he thought of asking Yoongi out. It was just a flicker of thought, before he pushed it deep down again.

“No, you’re not.” There was no one else in line and looking to long at Jimin made him nervous so he grabbed a damp cloth and started to shallowly wipe the counter. He had been so interested in the unusually strict order that he had actually made himself a cup of coffee like that once. It had tasted.. interesting. As if he had only tasted coffee in black and white so far and had suddenly taken a sip of colour. He had gone back to drinking his coffee black after that because he was lazy about how he was getting his caffeine but he liked making Jimin’s. His coworker had complained before, murmuring angrily about the ‘people who have to make everything about them and try to steal as much of your time as possible’ but Yoongi was pretty sure that that wasn’t it. Jimin didn’t order this specific to make himself feel special or make the baristas work for him as long as he could for the sum of a few dollars. He was just really specific about tastes.

“That’s…that’s good.” The younger could have slapped himself for that stupid answer as he stepped away awkwardly. There was nothing much left to do as he had his coffee in hand, but to walk away like he always did. So, Jimin turned around, carefully took a sip from his drink as he smiled. “It’s perfect,” He said and gave Yoongi a thumbs up, internally cringing at himself as he pushed open the door with his shoulder. “God damn it, Jimin, you dumb fool.” He murmured to himself, whining quietly as he stopped.

It was now or never, Jimin thought. 

He wanted to be brave for once, so he just downed the hot coffee in one go, ignoring the burn. The moment it was empty, Jimin grabbed a pen from his notebook that he had carelessly thrown in his bag and wrote down his number. If Yoongi liked him coming back, maybe…just maybe he was okay with meeting up sometime…somewhere… Jimin gulped heavily, ignoring how rough his throat felt right now and instead turned back around. He opened the front door with a little too much force (very much glad now there weren’t many people around but Yoongi behind the counter) and put his cup on top. 

“T-thank y-you.” His voice was just as shaky as his hand when Jimin turned around on his heel quicker than he came in and rushed out again. There he stood a little awkwardly for a moment, looking left and right from him, not really sure what to do next. His heart was hammering hard and when he glanced over his shoulder, Jimin’s gaze met Yoongi’s for a second. Biting his lip, Jimin could have slapped himself for being so awkward. Wasn’t it usually the other way around? The barista being the one writing down phone numbers. Quickening his steps, Jimin took a turn to the left and hurried to get away from the coffee shop too scared to know what Yoongi would think. 

Yoongi looked after Jimin who had run off as if he was followed by a swarm of bees. He furrowed his brows at the empty coffee cup. There were three trash cans scattered at the coffee shop so he wondered why Jimin had placed it in front if him. He picked it up to throw it away when he saw the hastily scribbled number. With a shriek he almost dropped it, too afraid his fingers might smudge the numbers and make the number unreadable. He had been lucky (or Jimin had used a waterproof pen because despite their shaky form they were still clear). Quickly he took out his phone and saved the boy’s number so no accident could interfere with their flirting.

…

Jimin was about to head inside the dance studio when he felt his pocket vibrating and instinctively reached inside for his phone, not even sparing the screen a glance. He knew very well who it was. Or at least he thought so. “Tae, I’m already outside, didn’t we say we meet…”

“Jimin?”

His heart stopped at the sound of the familiar voice, knowing immediately who was calling him. “Oh fuck,” It slipped from his lips before he could take it back and Jimin blushed furiously, even though no one could see it. 

“I take that as a yes. And I hope your surprise doesn’t mean you’re already regretting giving me your number?” He was only half joking because he was a little nervous. But if the way Jimin’s breathing had changed was any indication then he wasn’t the only one. “I just wanted to know it you’re only particular like that with coffee or if there are other rules I should keep in mind while trying to find a nice place where I can ask you to go on a date with me.”

“No, no, I’m cool…about other stuff. It’s just the coffee…and you, I mean..i’m particular about you…,” Jimin was rambling, hopelessly trying to calm his heartbeat and his brain to work again but it seemed like it wasn’t connected right to his mouth. He let out a squeal, “A date? You mean with me? Like after your shift? Y-you want to…I didn’t mess up?” Jimin’s eyes widened in panic as he spoke quickly, “I messed up now, didn’t I?”

Yoongi chuckled with amusement. “You didn’t, but if you want to make it up to me anyways then say yes to that date, please. You have found the perfect coffee but have you also found the perfect burger? Because I could totally help with that.” He knew a small restaurant that served all kinds of burgers, including vegan or veggie options. Their spinach-cheese-patty was heavenly.

Jimin sighed in relief and nodded his head – until he realized Yoongi couldn’t really see him. “Yes, I’d like that. D-do you want me to pick you up?” He bit his lip, pressing the phone against his ear to not miss a word. 

“Yes please.” Yoongi was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt from it. “My shift ends at 8.”

[agoddamn]

Your last few posts examining Rhea (and the narrative failures of 3H due to the whitewashed ending of BE) are blowing my mind. Anyway, I have a bit of a weird question—I struggle a lot with simple analysis of even what simply motivates a character, so how have you honed analyzing content? Is it just looking at other analysis through the years or is there a piece of media that’s been really foundational to how you view and break down writing? Your fanfics also are super telling of your analysis!

Buckle up, because this is gonna be a hell of an answer.

Fire Emblem Fates and a good therapist.

I'm dead serious. It's also due to the friends I made at the time, but a not insignificant part of how I started learning how to analyze is that I wanted the words to explain why I liked Fates and why the localization changes made it feel so different.

I also met Ammie through Fates, and working with her to pinch-hit beta Joining of Worlds gave me a whole new way of looking at writing and the considerations you make as a writer. Really breaking down writing into almost a design process--an attempt to instill a certain feeling, a certain experience, in the reader. You must use the right word. You must have events happen in the right order. You must understand what you're trying to say, the different things all of your characters believe, the way they misunderstanding one another, the different ways they conceptualize things...

And therapy, at a basic level, is talking about feelings and hopefully understanding them. It's a simple exercise: what do I feel, and why am I feeling it? It can be useful for stuff like calming anxiety and countering depressive thoughts or similar issues.

What am I feeling? Uneasy, out-of-place. Why do you feel that way. I think my coworker hates me. Why do you think he hates you? He had a scornful note in his voice when he spoke to me. What made you read his tone as scornful? Did he say something cruel? Well, no, but there was definitely a different tone in his voice. Could this tone have been caused by literally anything other than you, like really needing to pee or thinking about calling his ex-wife or remembering an impossible-to-explain joke?

Well. Yeah, actually.

Conclusion: more evidence needed to determine hatred.

Critical analysis starts with basically the same type of thought chain--what is happening and why?

Start: why is Rhea trying to revive Sothis? Because she wants her back. Why does she want her back? Because she was murdered, and because Rhea still loves and misses her, and because Rhea was unable to let her death go. Why couldn't Rhea let her death go when the other survivors were all able to move on in their own way? Because Rhea is different from them. What makes Rhea different from them?

And now we're narrowing it down to some juicy potential answers: Rhea was the youngest, Rhea is female, and Rhea was at Zanado during the massacre. With these starting points, we can now go back and look at other places in the text to see what fits with these.

Is Rhea being female relevant? I'd say yes. There's the most obvious stereotype of women being more emotional and this whole supposition is emotionally-motivated, and then the idea of a mother-daughter story, which are a known cultural quantity. This means that her being the youngest is also relevant; the one who spent the least time with her mother. Is Rhea being at Zanado relevant? Yes, that's extremely traumatic.

So, can we cook up a thesis with those keywords? A theory? Does it look like anything we're already familiar with in real life, a pattern or shape we already know?

The youngest daughter of a murdered woman who was present at the slaughter and cannot move on from it. Yep, that's a straight-up traumatized child story! Which I'm decently familiar with; see above, therapy.

And now that we've got a thesis, we look back at the work and ask, is there any evidence supporting this, or is it a series of coincidences? Does this theory support and enrich the existing story?

As for evidence, I'd say that Rhea's fixation on her mother alone is pretty strong. Her happy sob of "Mother" in Snow distinctly reinforces the idea that she's, narratively, a girl who wants her mother. Her shame about her desire to revive Sothis also supports this idea. It's quite shameful for an adult to act like a child. Even the structure of her Church jives with the reading; even though she definitely could, she never tries to present herself as the Goddess. Only someone who's received her words, and then as the Archbishop--again, only someone who passes on the word of the Goddess. She never tries to have herself worshiped.

She never tries to oust her mother. She never tries to become that ultimate authority herself.

In spite of the MILF memes, the position she desires is daughter.

And it enriches our understanding of the text by giving us a new way to understand the type of sorrow and trauma Rhea feels. What's going on inside her head. It's difficult to get your head around the scale of "million year old dragon wants to revive god"; it's a lot easier to picture "child wants her mother back".

The final step: could you be wrong? What holes are there? Is there another explanation for any of this? I say nah. You could explain away one or two pieces, but not the whole picture. There is no other explanation for a writer choosing to make her climactic scene of her route her being cradled by Byleth as she cries for her mother. That's childish behavior through and through (and I mean literally 'in the manner of a child', not in a denigrating way). No writer would choose to put that there if they didn't want you to get the impression of a child in that moment.

So...that's my thinking process. I guess it's a little robotic, but it works!

[mysdrymmumbles]

The Nightmare

I can’t adequately explain how this kid gets under my skin so badly. Like, it’s not just what he does, it’s the way he does it, and the way the other kids pick up and carry on with him. And I do apologize for the length of this, but I can’t really begin to explain the issue without going into everything.

So.

3rd period was only 50 minutes long, and 4th was 55, because of the 2 hour delay because a snowflake touched the ground in the south and everyone panicked.

Shorter classes are usually a blessing if I know I have a disrespectful kid in one.

But the problem is this problem student is in both. So even with the shortened day, I’m still gonna have to deal with him for longer than a regular period.

He starts 3rd lying about people being present who aren’t. 

In itself, it’s just mildly annoying because other kids do that. They wanna let their friends get credit for being there when they’re skipping.

Whatever.

I ask that the class not say present for students who aren’t there and move on.

Then, he starts bothering his classmates. 

Now, I try to gauge how things are going when students are interacting to make sure that I’m not pestering people just having fun.

This kid is jabbing his finger at a girl, nearly hitting her in the face and she tells him to stop.

He keeps going.

I tell him to stop.

He looks at me then sits down and starts muttering about harassment and saying that I should fuck off.

Again, I have kids mutter under their breath sometimes and I usually let it slide because whatever, they did what they were told and are trying to save face in front of their friends. 

I don’t give a fuck because they’re in their seat or doing whatever I asked them to do.

Then he decides to come up to the desk. 

Again, many kids do this. Most aren’t trying to start shit. They’ll come up and ask for a pencil or answer key or to use the bathroom or whatever. (No I don’t give them answer keys, they just think it’s funny to ask.)

But this kid. He scuffs his shoes as he’s coming up, making stomping noises and then just stands there staring at me. No question, just staring.

So I say, “Yes?” 

And he stares a bit more before finally asking to use the bathroom.

I dislike him, but I’m not gonna deny him the right to pee if he has to, so I write him a pass. It is 2:06. 

We have been in class for 16 minutes.

16 of the 105 I am stuck with this child for.

I don’t know why I thought to tell my coworker in the morning that I wasn’t looking forward to the afternoon because there was a student I didn’t like, but I did. She’s the person in charge of the CTE classes for this school and a couple others, which I am covering that day, and so about 2:17 she comes by to check in and make sure I’m not going crazy. She asks where the student is.

I tell her he’s been gone 11 minutes already.

She goes out to find him and brings him back at 2:22 (I admit, I was disappointed).

As soon as she leaves, he is out of his seat bragging to some others about how he can’t get in trouble because he knows the teachers, like my coworker.

It should be noted that there are 16 kids in the room. There’s a couple talking, but quiet enough I can’t make out what they’re saying. Most of them are on their computers and whether they’re doing work or not, they’re not being loud and obnoxious.

Only this student is.

So I say, “<Name>, please have a seat.” 

Because I always say please when I ask students to do something--unless I’ve asked a few times and they still haven’t done it--because I believe it’s important to treat students with respect.

He ignores me the first time, so I repeat myself.

Again, by itself, it’s not a big deal because I have to repeat myself all the fucking time because kids don’t listen. However, with everything else he’s done, and with how we’re sitting at about 2:25 now, and I still have to deal with him until 3:40, it’s starting to feel like a bit much.

The second time I ask him to sit down, he deflects and asks me what my name is, after making a big show about not remembering it.

So I point to the board where it’s written and say, “Ms. <Name>, like it says on the board--”

Now as I’m speaking, he’s already interrupted with something I couldn’t hear and says something stupidly inaccurate like Ms. Honeybuns or something. So I correct him--it’s an automatic thing, honestly.

“Ms. Lun--”

“Ms Bunny Rabbit, got it.” 

Then he chants it like 5 times, grinning at his classmates, feeding off their snickers, still not sitting down.

I text my coworker and ask if I can cover a different room. I tell her the student is being an asshole. He jokes to his friends about how he’s made me mad. I apologize to my coworker for cursing because no one at work has ever heard me curse/seen me curse in a text. I compartmentalize pretty damn well.

I get no response, but he has sat down.

He gets up again.

I again ask him to sit down.

He looks me dead in the eye and starts dancing, big shit-eating grin on his face as his classmates laugh with glee.

It isn’t even 2:30 yet. 

So I called the office.

At 2:30 I call for kids to start putting up their laptops because they get out of class in 10 minutes and I wanna make sure they have time to save and get their shit together so they aren’t late for next period. 

They ignore me.

At 2:35 I call for kids to put up their laptops again, they giggle that I “sound mad”, and still don’t.

At 2:36 the AP finally arrives and I sweep out of the room and tell her that this child is the most despicable child I have ever had to deal with and ask her to move me because I can’t deal with him for another 60 minutes.

Because he’s getting worse and worse and worse with every passing minute and making it so no one in the classroom will listen to me.

And it’s not like I’m even asking much from them. I’m asking them to put their computers up so that I can count them and make sure they’re all there. It’s something they have to do at the end of every class where they use the computers.

At this point, I am so angry that I had to stop talking because I was going to burst into tears.

The AP apologizes to me and hugs me. This is a woman who has never smiled at me once before and generally doesn’t look at me when I pass her in the hall and wave.

And she is hugging me.

She calls the kid out and he’s still got that shit eating grin on his face. She has to tell him to drop it 3 times before he listens. She tells him to apologize to me and he first declares that he’s done nothing wrong and then demands to know just what he did. 

Then he tells her to watch the cameras because he didn’t do anything to me.

She tells him to get his stuff because he’s not staying in the room for 4th.

He argues and goes back into the room. She tells him twice more to get his things.

As I’m trying to dry my eyes--which I’m ashamed he saw and also means I’m fucked because the kids now know they can get to me if they’re annoying enough--the principal walks by. He asks what’s up and the AP tells him the kid made me cry.

The principal sticks his head in the room and goes, “<Name>, get your crap. Now.” 

He finally leaves.

I come back in the room as the bell rings.

5 of the kids didn’t bother to ever put their computers up and just left them on their desks.

So I get to clean up after them.

But you know what?

4th period was fucking fantastic.

And that was solely because he wasn’t there.

[diegoh4rgreeves]

Butter Peekin

Story Summary: Reader is a music director of the Netflix series, The Umbrella Academy. One day the main cast initiate a lunch break together only to have David Castañeda and reader unable to find them at their supposed meeting spot. Reader and David decide to spend their lunch break together with ice-cream and they start to feel a connection. They’re so into their time together that they run late back to work. Their coworkers tease them over it, including Gerard Way! The next day, David asks reader out on a date and gets their number. This prompts reader to try and kiss him until they get cock-blocked by Tom Hopper. The day after that, David kisses reader just days before their date.

Pairing: David Castañeda x Fan

Chapter: 1/1

Word Count: 3,263 words

Warning: Fluff

A/N: I referenced a podcast David was recently a guest on (x). I was originally going to make this a drabble that ends when the lunch break does. Then it just got so cute. I couldn’t stop typing! I hope you all get the same warm and fuzzy feelings I did when I wrote this. Also I made this gender-neutral hence the lack of details for the reader and referring to them in they/them pronouns. Enjoy!

The ice cream shop on Queen St. E is cramped, just as any other place in downtown Toronto is. The whole colour scheme is pale yellow and primary blue; some walls are painted one colour or the other. There’s a chalkboard with the specials written on it.

Out of all the places you could have been hanging out with your celebrity crush in, you never thought it would be Ed’s Real Scoop.

“A butter pecan on a cone, and whatever they’re having.” A tall and built man with a beard signals the ice cream shop server to you with his wallet. He is wearing cargo shorts, a grey sweatshirt, a cap, socks, and running shoes.

You never thought of David Castañeda wearing something like this. He’s Diego Hargreeves in the Netflix series, The Umbrella Academy! Diego wears leather clad and swings knives at targets. Then again, David is David. The actor must be different from the character. Also, he wore this same outfit in an hour-long podcast you so watched in the summer. The podcast happened when he was in Thailand.

Now, he’s filming for season 2 of The Umbrella Academy, which gets you out of your day job. You are a music director on the show and that pays your bills. David and you are acquaintances, or so you think.

You shyly smile at David and thank him for offering to pay for your ice-cream. Then you tell the server your order of choice.

As the server prepares both your ice-creams, you look the opposite direction of David. David and you get along in the studio. You’re just used to seeing him with the rest of the cast and crew. You only have this alone time with him because theoretically the rest of the main cast ditched you both. You all originally planned to have lunch together. David and you failed to find them once lunch started, so David decided to take you out for ice cream.

Just as you are accepting this silence between David and you, he lets out a laugh. You look up at him and can’t help but to laugh along. His smile and his laugh are so cute and contagious. You just love his teeth. “What, what is it?”

He takes a moment before laughing again. “Okay, I wanna tell you something and you have to promise not to laugh. You swear?”

You giggle. “No promises.”

He beams up at you. “Y/N, please. This is top-secret info, okay?”

You hold your hands up and let out some incoherent sound. You weren’t sure if to say Okay or Fine.

I promise probably would have cut it. You let it go. He’s still smiling so hard.

“Okay…” He begins. “So, you know that I was born in Mexico, right?”

“Uh huh.” Of course, you know that. You’ve only googled him a hundred times.

“And that I went to high school in LA.”

You nod again. God, you really hope that David doesn’t know about your big crush on him.

“Right, so I could speak English fluently then. I just couldn’t pronounce certain words. Like, butter pecan!” He shudders. “Why do people say it like pikahn? That sounds so bougie!”

You actually remember hearing him tell that fun fact in the podcast. You’re not sure how to react to something you’ve already heard before. You decide to tell him another fun fact. “You know that you can say pee-can.”

He looks at you in amazement. “Wait, really!? Why didn’t anyone tell me that?” He looks the opposite of your direction and mutters the other pronunciation for his favourite ice-cream flavour. Then he looks at you and laughs once again. “Pee… can. Can of pee.”

You choke out a laugh. Right now, he’s just as fun-loving and weird and gross as he is to you with the group. You wonder why you were so nervous and anxious just a few seconds ago. He’s such a lovely human being with good energy. You decide to confess something to him. “I actually listened to the podcast you told the butter pikhan story.”

He beams up. “Oh really? What did you think of it?”

You’re oddly relieved at his response. Come to think of it, why did you think that watching the podcast would be a bad thing? “Well, I mean… the butter peekin story was great.” You realise you didn’t let him finish his story. He used to pronounce butter pecan as butter peekin. He chuckles anyway. “Can I… be honest about the podcast guys though?” You ask.

David smirks. “What is the tea?” He makes a sizzling noise.

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Can you ever give a serious answer to anything?”

“Sorry,” he laughs.

“No no, it’s fine! It’s entertaining.”

He gives you one last smile before the server calls you both for your ice-creams. David walks to the end of the counter where the cashier is. He takes out a $20 bill for both your ice-creams and he puts some of his change in the tip jar.

“Do you wanna stay here or take a walk on Woodbine Beach?” He takes a lick of his butter pecan ice-cream.

You give him a puzzled look. “What about fans? They’re going to stop you and ask for your autograph!” You take a lick of your ice cream and accidentally get a big chunk of the frozen treat in your mouth. You let it melt inside. You like the numbness on your tongue.

He leads you both out the shop and you passively follow him. Then he rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Y/N, you flatter me. First you watch my podcast and now you believe I have fans.”

You spit out your ice cream from a burst of laughter. You didn’t even care he pointed out the podcast. His self-deprecating humour reminded you why you love him so much.

“You okay there?” He chuckles.

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Yeah, thanks, David.” It was your turn to be sarcastic.

“Here, I picked up some napkins.” He pulls some out of his shorts pockets. You let out a hand with the assumption that he’ll hand you the napkin. Instead, he stops you both on the sidewalk outside the shop and he wipes your ice-cream covered lips with it. This might be the closest you’ve ever gotten to him besides a hug. He’s touching your lips and it’s great, even though he’s not touching them with his lips.

He lets go. You clear your throat and thank him.

It feels like a movie moment. You think that you should let the tension last as the streets had their usual noise of honking cars and beeping bus stops. In that sound, he’d think of kissing you. Instead, he picks up your conversation from the ice-cream shop. “So, what didn’t you like about those interviewers from the podcast?”

“Hmm?” You look at him as you try and adjust to a new conversation topic. “Oh right.” You’ve processed what he said. “Well, call me a social justice warrior, but I thought they were so politically incorrect, you know? Like… after you said the butter peekin story and you called an old friend a coconut. They thought that was racist? Seriously?”

David rolls his eyes. “Yeah… I was confused by that.”

“You seemed it!”

“I wanted to ask them how was that racist, and they just said that we weren’t gonna get into it. I mean, I couldn’t really do anything after that, you know? I didn’t wanna cause a scene, especially in my big break!”

“I thought you didn’t have fans.”

He opens his mouth and leaves it hanging. “Touché.”

You chuckle. Gosh, does he have such a good sense of humour. You look at him with a serious look. “There is another thing I wanna point out about those guys.”

“More tea!?” He grins. “Damn Y/N, I never took you for a gossip girl!”

You guffaw. “Wow okay! So that’s how you see me now?”

He chuckles. “Maybe… I like it anyway. You’ve got spunk and don’t take shit from anybody.”

You blush. David paid you a compliment and you’re trying so hard to see it as a friendly comment. “Yeah, well…” You play off your bashfulness with an exaggerated hair flip. “You know you love me.”

He lets out a hearty laugh, and that only makes you feel overwhelmed. Have you always been this funny? Does anyone else laugh this hard at your jokes?

You’re having such a good time with him that you never mind the talk about the podcast anymore. Who wants to rant about two white guys when you’re with the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen!?

David and you take a stroll on the beach. It isn’t until you’re walking on it and feel the cool air from the lake that you felt how hot it was outside earlier. The beach really soothes you. David and you are still on a sugar high from the ice-creams, and you rush finishing them so that the sand doesn’t rush up on your treats from the wind. You’re laughing so hard as he slurps his cone and tilts it up. It’s probably a disgusting view to the people around you, and that makes it more entertaining for you.

David turns around to see if anyone’s looking at him. There does appear to be an irritated family sitting on some lawn chairs. He looks at you. “And you thought I had fans.”

You hold your stomach from laughing. “Don’t kill me!”

He smiles along with your laugh. When he finishes his ice cream, he rubs his hands to get the crumbs off. He pulls out his smartphone and gasps. “Uhh… Y/N.” He shows you the time. “I think break was over looong ago.”

You gasp. “Oh fuck… You have some missed calls too!”

“It’s okay! We’ll get an uber.”

“Yeah?” You check with him. “Will it cost much?”

He slings his wrist and purses his lips. “It’s on me, it’s fine.”

“You already paid for ice-cream. Let me split this with you.”

He shrugs. “Okay. Whatever. We’ll figure it out. Let’s just get back now!” David opens the Uber app on his phone and starts ordering a ride. You both wait at the parking lot of the beach together until your ride’s here.

David and you come back to the studio in a panic. You only see the main cast and crew laugh at your dramatic entrance of running inside. David and you freeze as you look at them. You’re especially worried over what Gerard Way thinks.

“Why are you guys running!?” Emmy Raver-Lampman looks like she’s about to cry from how hard she’s laughing. You’re quite embarrassed by that. You’ve also had a bit of a crush on her. Now this woman with goddess-like features and long curly hair is seeing you all sweaty and covered in ice-cream stickiness and you’re heavily breathing.

“Yeah, you’re late, you’re late.” The 16-year-old actor with a page-boy haircut lets out a chuckle. Aidan Gallagher is like his character, Five, in real life. He’s stoic.

Robert Sheehan, the tall and scrawny man with the messy brown hair, green eyes, messy black eyeliner, and funky and colourful clothing chimes in. “David and Y/N sittin’ in a tree…”

“Honestly, where did you guys go?” The short girl with the brown hair and button-like eyes cuts in. Yes, this is your idol since tweenhood, Ellen Page. “We waited for you.”

“Where!?” David yells out.

This gets everyone to bicker over the original plans of where to meet up at lunch time. Before this can go on, a tall and burly man with long dyed-red hair and bright blue eyes cuts in. “Alright, guys. David is back. Now you can film again!” He looks over at you. “Well Y/N, you don’t have to work again for another while, unless there are scenes you can add music to right now.”

You nod your head. “Yes sir. I’m on it. Sorry we’re late!”

He rolls his eyes and laughs. “I don’t even wanna know what David and you got up to.”

This gets the cast to make scandalised faces at David and you. “As I said!” Robert calls out. “David and Y/N sittin’ in a tree!”

“Robert!” Gerard calls out. “Go back to filming.”

You lose David in the crowd of the main cast, so you don’t get to wave goodbye and thank him for a fun lunch break, which had a surprisingly pleasant and wholesome ending.

—–

It’s the day after. You enter the lounge room of the studio. You put down a box of doughnuts on a table there. On top of the box, you leave a sticky note. It reads, Sorry I was late yesterday. I got an assorted range. Hope you all enjoy these. -Y/N

You take one last look at the box and then turn around to see David. This makes you jump up. You didn’t expect to see him in. In fact, you didn’t even hear anyone come in! “Hey David.” You let out a breath.

He looks at you all confused. “Did I scare you?”

“Kind of. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Oh, my bad.” He chuckles. He looks over you and takes notice of the box of pastries. “What’s this?”

“Hmm?” You turn around to see what he’s looking at. “Oh.” You turn around back to him. “Just an apology gift for yesterday.” You laugh nervously.

He nods. “Can I split the money with you since I wanna apologise too?”

“Are you mocking me?” You scoff.

He laughs. “I mean I do feel bad about yesterday actually and I don’t wanna be late again from getting a box of doughnuts. So…”

You shrug. “It’s on me. You did pay for the Uber.”

“Thanks.” He nods.

You nod back. You’re not sure what to say next. “I should probably head to my department.”

“Yeah, sure. But first…” He looks down at the ground and then back at you. “I just wanted to say that I had a lot of fun yesterday.”

Your heart warms up and you open your mouth. You know that you should say something. “Yeah. Me too. I mean, I had a lot of fun too. With you.” You clear your throat.

He smiles. “If you… ever wanna do this again some time, I’d be down.”

You cannot believe what you’re hearing. You have been asked out by other people in the past year, and you were just irritated. You could sense the bad vibes from those people. David though, he reminds you of your crushes back in high school. You are purely excited. “Yeah. Yeah definitely.”

“Something longer than a lunch break.” He smirks.

You giggle. “Yeah, I hear that. Do you want my number by the way?”

“Oh.” He beams up. “Right, yeah. I was going to ask for that next.” He chuckles and takes his phone out of his jeans pocket.

You smile and accept the phone. He has the page for you to add your name and number on. You type everything in and hand the phone back to him. “Okay, text me at your own will.”

He laughs. “I will. I might call after work actually. Is that okay?”

You open your mouth and wanna exclaim something. You remember to play it cool though. You just love phone calls so much. They’re so intimate and they’re one of the few old-fashioned things you value. Instead of freaking him out, you simply nod your head.

He smiles one last time before saying bye and heading out the lounge room.

You know that you won’t see him in another while. He’ll be working the whole day, and so will you. You look back and forth to your side and then to his direction. You want to kiss him. But is it too soon? You don’t know, but you decide to go in for the kill. You head out the lounge room only to be stopped by Tom Hopper, the tall and muscular actor with the buzzed haircut. He shows you a photo of his babies that his wife just texted him. He’s British. It’s 1pm in England. You go along with his excitement and compliment his babies on how cute they are.

You’re in your apartment after a long day of work. You decided to stay in at the studio for your lunch break. You ate a sandwich you brought from home and watched a few finished scenes of The Umbrella Academy. You brainstormed which songs would be fitting for all of the scenes you watched today. There was a meeting for it afterwards.

You change into your comfy clothes at your apartment and get a sense of relief. You prepare some food and plop on the couch. You turn on Netflix and watch the TV show of your choice. You can’t really get into what you’re watching though. You’re too busy mindlessly munching on your food and zoning out. You wonder if Tom cockblocking you was a good idea. Chasing after David for a kiss would have definitely been a desperate move. You also try to justify your decision with the fact that you’ve known David for a while now. There are romantic implications. Maybe he wants to kiss you too.

Before you can ponder on this, you hear your phone quickly vibrate. You pick it up and see a text letting you know that it’s David. You beam up and immediately save his name and number on your phone. You text him “Hey!” He texts and asks if it’s okay to call you right now.

You text a thumbs up emoji. You anticipate the call as you look at the text thread. Your phone gives longer vibrations this time, which shows that you’re getting a call. You pick it up. “Hello?”

“Y/N.” There’s that sexy deep voice. “Hey. How’s it going?”

You can feel your heart fluttering. You’re relieved that you didn’t kiss him. It would have scared him off. Tom cockblocking you made all this worth it.

—–

You see David the next day at work. You’re both in the lounge room before your times to start. You’re the only ones in the room and smile at one another as you walk in. “So, I guess we just awkwardly look at each other before Friday?” You quip. Friday is your date with David. You’re getting dinner and plan to go back to the beach.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He smirks. “That or…” He looks away and sighs.

You furrow your brows. “Or what?”

He walks over to you from the coffee machine and holds your face. He rubs one of your cheeks with his thumb and leans in. He eyes the room before touching your lips with his.

You’re quite surprised over this. You still close your eyes and go along with it. He tastes like the black coffee he just made and sipped. He smells really good from his body spray and you get a whiff of his shampoo. He must have showered before coming here. Your lips are so relaxed on each other until he presses harder and holds your waist to lean you in. You wrap your arms around his neck. You both sigh in the kiss until he decides to let go.

He looks at you and rubs your cheek with his thumb one last time before pecking your nose and walking out the room.

You are stunned. Much to your luck, he also had an urge to kiss you.

[iris-writes-things]

Two Guys and a Baby: Day 7 part 2

Read on AO3, FF.net or under the cut, or read up to 2 chapters ahead as a $1 Patreon patron!

Angela’s grin grew wider and she looked at her daughter. “Just imagine, maybe, when his boss comes home, she’ll be so satisfied with your work that she’ll want him to be Adam’s permanent babysitter.” Anathema caught on and winked at her. “Well, I, for one, think uncle Tony would make a great nanny. You know, traveling by umbrella, and telling Adam that a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. Oh! Maybe he’ll let a charming Dick sweep his chimney—”

Or, it runs in the family.

Chapter 10 of 20 Ongoing 1519 words Romance/Humor

It was Friday night, which could only mean one thing: dinner at Angela’s. It was something Crowley and her had done ever since she’d moved out of their parental home twenty years ago, much to the chagrin of Angela’s ex-husband.

These days, it was usually just Crowley, Angela and Anathema, a bottle of wine split between the former two, talking about their weeks and complaining about their respective bosses, coworkers and in Anathema’s case, teachers. 

But this Friday was different. Because instead of his usual bottle of South African red wine, he brought two jars of baby food in a bag and a very tiny guest.

Crowley unlocked the front door to their little redbrick house in Brixton with his own keys and made his way through the dark and narrow hallway to be met with the precious sight of Angela sitting on the floor, putting together the high chair with Anathema.

“No mum, I swear, this bit goes here,” Anathema asserted. Angela sighed.

“Anathema, my sweet darling, with all due respect, I don’t think you remember the last time your dad and I put this thing together for you to sit in.”

“Angie, my dear sister, with all due respect, your daughter is right.” Crowley grinned.

“Tony!” Angela called when she caught sight of him, leaping to her feet to greet him and Adam and leaving Anathema to put together the high chair. “Here I thought I’d never see you with a baby on your arm that wasn’t mine. And you must be Adam,” she cooed as she turned to the boy. “Such a handsome little man, you are.”

Crowley looked down at the boy and smiled. “Yeah, he’s a real heartbreaker.” But upon watching his niece struggle with the chair, he handed Adam and the baby food over to Angela without a second thought. “Alright Annie, this is embarrassing, hand me that leg. You hold the seat and I’ll shove it in.”

“I bet that’s what Mr. Fell said.” Anathema grinned and wiggled her eyebrows, but followed Crowley’s instructions nonetheless.

Crowley, shoving the leg of the high chair into the underside of the seat as non-sensually as humanly possible, made a face. “You watch your language, young lady.”

“I was just kidding,” Anathema said as she held the seat steady for the second leg. “Besides, he’s totally got eyes for you, uncle Tony. Would it kill you to make a move?”

“Yes,” Crowley nearly snapped, punctuated by shoving the third leg into place. “I asked him out for dinner back in the bookshop and I thought for sure I was going to pass out.”

Crowley’s gaze snapped towards the sound of a jar of baby food hitting the floor and running away. Angela stood gaping at him. He turned back to Anathema, who had a similar look of amazement on her face.

“Ohmigod,” Anathema uttered. “You finally asked out Mr. Fell!?”

Crowley shrugged, putting the fourth leg into the chair and turning it upright before he got up. “Not really. We’re just going to dinner as friends. We used to do things like that all the time.”

Angela swatted at Anathema’s ear once she got up. “Well, whatever it’s for, we’re very excited for you. Where are you taking him?”

“I’m taking him to the Ritz,” he said resolutely.

Angela and Anathema exchanged a look.

"You mean the obscenely expensive Ritz?" Angela asked.

"He deserves it," Crowley answered.

"The ridiculously romantic Ritz?" Anathema followed.

"It's not just for couples, Anathema. There are plenty of people who go there who are just friends, surely," Crowley deflected quite coolly, he thought.

He didn't catch the other look the mother and daughter exchanged.

"I think it's time to put dinner out on the table," Angela said.

"I couldn't agree with you more." Anathema nodded. The two disappeared into the kitchen.

*

“This is worse than I thought,” Angela whispered, arms folded over one another as her daughter gave the pasta a firm final stir before draining it.

“I know,” Anathema whispered back.

“Something has to happen about this.”

“I know.” Anathema tasted the sauce. It was perfect.

“And if Tony finds out we had something to do with it, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I know.”

“So… What do we do?” Angela enquired. Anathema narrowed her eyes at her.

“I thought you said that after that whole thing with Mr. Fell we weren’t going to get any more involved than we already were?”

“I know what I said!” the mother hissed. “It’s just that he’s my baby brother, and I want him to have what’s best for him.”

“Which would be Mr. Fell,” Anathema suggested.

“And a life out of that horrid office of his. Or a life out of this city in general. Maybe one day they could retire to a quaint old cottage in the South Downs and he could finally have some rest.”

“That sounds nice…” Anathema mused. “But I thought uncle Tony was really good at his job?”

“He is, but just because you’re good at something, doesn’t mean it’s good for you.”

*

This was exactly what crossed Crowley’s mind when he ducked into the bathroom to change Adam’s diaper.

Sure, he seemed to do exceptionally well with the boy*; he didn’t kick, didn’t squirm and didn’t start peeing on Crowley seconds after he’d peeled off the diaper, but that smell. No matter how much he liked children, that was something Crowley would never get used to.

(*Even Anathema gave Crowley more trouble at Adam’s age.)

Adam giggled and clapped his hands in delight as Crowley gagged.

*

When all was said and done, the four met again in the dining area. Angela and Anathema placed the pans on the table — Angela serving out the pasta — as Tony slid Adam back into his high chair.

“Did the little prince require your services again, Tony?” she asked with a little, satisfied grin on her face. The source of her satisfaction being that Tony couldn’t pass Adam back to her and say ‘your baby, your poopy diaper’ half the time.

“‘Little prince’?” Tony grimaced. “With the smells he’s producing, he ought to be Lord of the Flies!”

Angela’s grin grew wider and she looked at her daughter. “Just imagine, maybe, when his boss comes home, she’ll be so satisfied with your work that she’ll want him to be Adam’s permanent babysitter.”

Anathema caught on and winked at her. “Well, I, for one, think uncle Tony would make a great nanny. You know, traveling by umbrella, and telling Adam that a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. Oh! Maybe he’ll let a charming Dick sweep his chimney—”

Angela elbowed her in the side.

“Shut up, Annie. You know I’d rock that getup,” Tony said, his cheeks growing red behind those silly sunglasses of his.

“Okay, but seriously, take off those damned shades. You’re inside and with polite company, there’s no reason for you to keep them on.” She snatched the sunglasses from his face and tucked them into her breast pocket as she sat down and finally got to eating.

“That’s debatable,” Tony joked, glancing at Anathema. He took a few bites before feeding Adam. “So, you ladies seem invested enough in my life. How were your respective days?”

*

It wasn’t that Crowley didn’t appreciate his sister or her attempts of helping him out. He was glad, even, that Anathema seemed to have inherited this trait from her mother. If only she didn’t ‘help him out’ in his love life as much because so far, her attempts at ‘helping him out’ tended to end rather embarrassingly. 

For example, in primary school, when Angela had somehow gotten Marjorie Smith* to ask out Crowley, which ended in his premature coming out. 

(*The most beautiful girl in school**.) (**Despite feeling no attraction to the fairer sex at all, Crowley still found himself in posession of a pair of working eyes and enough cultural indoctrination to identify a beautiful girl when he saw one.)

Or in secondary school, when Angela had somehow gotten Crowley to ask out Eric Harris*, which ended in his premature heartbreak.

(*The most beautiful boy in school**.) (**Unfortunately, heterosexual.)

Or at his old part-time job, when Angela got him to ask out his manager, which ended in Crowley’s premature firing*.

(*No matter how you look at it, this one was destined to end in disaster.)

This was why he, under no circumstances, wanted his sister and his niece involved with his courting of Ezra if what he was doing could be called ‘courting’ at all. It felt more like dancing on the edge of an active volcano: one wrong step in either direction would mean certain death. But he was sick of it. Sick of dancing around his problems for just shy of a decade. And so, he took a deep, shaking breath and steadied himself as he said:

“Angie, I need your advice.”

Angela and Anathema, both halfway into their second serving, gave Crowley a look. Adam, quickly picking up on the cue, looked at him as well.

“How do I ask out Ezra?”

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Daycare Days

Summary: Daycares are sweet not just because of the children within but with the bonds you make within it.

Yoongi X Reader

This was requested by anon btw

Prompt: 7. “I dare you to go tell Santa what you want...” (bias is Santa)

To pay for college I started working for the daycare center in the college, it makes me a pretty penny of ten bucks an hour. Which isn't that bad it pays my bills, keeps me afloat, but that's all it does if I wanted to buy presents. I'd have to save all the money I spend on food which is about twenty bucks and that isn't much. I'll probably end up making gifts for people instead.

As talkative as I am, that's how shy I am. But with little kids I can talk to them for weeks and not get tired of it, I'm rather not shy with them. When it comes to the adults that work with me, it's a whole different story. I work with four other people, I talk to them a little a bit, about as much as I talk to my classmates. Which is when I have to, I'll talk to them, when I don't I dodge. Even if one of them is extremely cute, gives me note of a reason to avoid.

My Beach Boy Christmas songs have been playing since the 1st November in my car and in my house that's all that's been on. The daycare is, finally, getting into the Christmas spirit as we help the kids make little ornaments and presents for their parents or guardians. I turn on some Christmas and dance with a little boy named, Wooyoung who is as energetic and loud as I am shy.

I'm currently sitting with Wooyoung and his bestest best friend, Seokmin helping them make ornaments of little trains to go on the tree that will be set up in a week or so. Being as it is November 21st.

I get a text as the two kids start talking with their hands about a movie they watched. I quickly check it and it's my friend, Seungwan, she's a sweetheart who absolutely loves kids. I'm just shocked she hasn't worked here; instead, of that old cafe, I guess I'll find out what she wants. “I was wondering if your job was still hiring the manager finally had it and wanted new workers, fresh faces… I was just wondering” I immediately text her back that it's still open, and I excuse myself from the two boys company, “Hey Yoongi! Have you seen, Ji-yoon?” Yoongi is one of my coworkers I don't talk to unless it's needed mostly because I think he's kind of cute but that's not the point I am in mom mode, and I need to ask Ji-yoon if Seungwan can get a job here. He nods and gestures to her office, and I give him a small smile and make my way quickly and carefully through the clusters of kids making ornaments.

“Ji-yoon!” I exclaim, “Ah!! Yes, what is it (Y/n)?” She says with a bright smile on her face, “So my friend, who is really good with kids needs a job… and I was wondering if the position was still opened?” Her smile never falters as she tells me, “You know we need as much help as we can get so tell them to swing by at 3 when the kids leave so I can interview them!” I nod happily and text Seungwan the great news and she replies with three exclamation points and hundreds of hearts I laugh and make my way over to my two kids I'm over seeing and notice that quite a bit of other kids joined.

The kids tuckered me out, they decided to play tag, getting every kid to do it, and every adult which was hilarious. Because some of the other workers looked like they never ran a day in their life, like me. We had them clean up their supplies and put their ornaments away in a special basket, high enough so they couldn’t reach it. Although if any of those kids were climbers, they could totally reach it.

We ran around until their parents came around to pick them up, most of the parents being students, some of them we’re professors though. With that run, it released endorphins I didn’t know I had the capacity to release. It brought my shyness right out from me, as I start freely talking to the other three, Yoongi who was usually standoffish was even talking with us. “Maybe we should run around more” I joke and the other few laugh, Yoongi shakes his head, “Once every 3 years is good for me.” We cackle at him, walking to our cars and bidding each other goodbye.

I arrive at work the next day, Seungwan got the job but won't be put to work until next week. It's going to be nice to have her around, she'll help break my shell with the others, as well as I can have inside jokes more. Everyone is sort of talking and Ji-yoon motions me over, “So once we open the doors on Friday let's all be festive okay? And from then on you guys can go full out, that sound good?” Ji-yoon, “Also we'll have a drawing on who gets to play Santa! It's the most important role, and I know all of you are staying for Christmas vacation so I expect 5 names in the box by the end of the day!” She grins and skips over to her office tapping the box before she shuts the door and starts the day.

“I already have a feeling I'm going to be it…” I hear Yoongi grumble, and we laugh, “Who do you think will pee on him first?” Minjae asks the spunky girl who loved kids as much as I did. “I have a bet on Riley, what a stinker… it's mostly because he is nervous so don't blame him…” Soft, short, Jihoon says. Which as soft as he is with the kids you could tell he had a temper. “No, I don't it'll be pee, it'll probably be puke because of how much cookies we stuff them with” I chime in, and they laugh agreeing, “If I'm chosen and I get puked on I'm smacking each and every one of you-” “We'll smack back~” Minjae teases Yoongi, as the kids start filing in.

I feel two people attach to my legs and I already knew who they were, “Wooyoung and Seokmin, you're here early!” They giggle as I scuttle my feet over to their table, and they hop of my legs and sit in their respective spots. We continue making ornaments, they both, finally, finished their 3rd one and now on their 4th.

They were beginning to make their 5th, but as all people know kids have a lack of an attention span, and they start to compare their hand sizes. And then start asking the other children some sitting at desks, but being as there is only the six other kids, they ran out of kid sizes trying to find the best so far it's little Taeyong, bragging about his hands being the biggest when a girl goes, “If yours are so big! Then compare them with the adults!” Acting high and mighty I have a bet she has been pushed in the mud once or twice, and if I had a kid, it would have probably been mine.

Taeyong goes over to Minjae proud, and ready to boast that his hands are bigger, she giggles. And says, “Aw sweetie, your hands are so small” And he whines and then the kids look at her to proceed to see who would win, “Fine~” She goes over to Jihoon and his glare sets in when his hand is compared to hers, she holds back her laugh as he rolls his eyes, “It seems I remain the reigning champion so far!!” She comes over to me, I hold my hand out, and I already knew my hands were bigger than hers, she whines about her hands being smaller, and I laugh as I wiggle our fingers, and the kids look at me expediently, I head over to Yoongi.

I put my hand up to his, and he quickly realizes his hand is smaller, his eyes nearly bulge out, not expecting it, and intertwined our fingers to save his pride, “Who’s hand is bigger!!” Wooyoung he was one of the first kids to lose, and I was rooting for him. Before I can answer, “They’re the same size!” Wooyoung looks at us then that one bratty girl, who was quite nice but sort of straight to the point, “Then prove it!” I smirk at him, “Not saving your pride, sweetie” He pouts, and my resolve almost crumbles, but life is a competition and I’m going to win, he rolls his eyes and sucks up the ‘boo’s about him lying and being prideful.

“We get the champion to sit with us, how lucky are we!!” Seokmin exclaims I laugh, and talk to them before they start a conversation on what bead is better. And exclude me from it, I roll my eyes. Yoongi held my hand, finally, hits me like deer in the headlights of an oncoming car. He was probably doing it to save his pride, yeah that makes sense. I can’t over interpret it would led to a bigger mess. I’ve fallen into that one too many times, I’m not doing it again.

For some reason, Yoongi opens up to me and slowly starts talking to me more. If Seungwan could see me now, talking without her encouragement. He wanted to talk to me for a while, just like I had but we had no idea how to open up a conversation. It was weird, but at the same time, was nice. I have a new friend on campus, not only the little kids, and Seungwan. We exchanged numbers once our job was over, which was putting up the tree, once the kids left.

[Yoongi: What got you to work there?]

[To Yoongi: It pays for college enough for me to get by and it’s working with kids :) Wbu? ]

[Yoongi: Oh I see, I work there to get money and talk to kids too. Who's your favorite?]

[To Yoongi: You’re not supposed to pick between your favorite kids… But it’s Wooyoung, he’s so loud and energetic I love it… since he’s the opposite of me]

[Yoongi: Taeyong, he’s prideful and I feel like I’m the father to that kid at this point]

[To Yoongi: Wdym?]

[Yoongi: You know Hoseok?]

[To Yoongi: Uh yeah?]

[Yoongi: That’s his little one and I care for him when Hoseok is on a date, he’s been trying to meet someone ever since Taeyong was wondering why he doesn’t have a mom…]

[To Yoongi: Ohh… The poor little guy… I’m glad you care for him when he needs it, he seems like a good kid. I haven’t watched over him so…]

[Yoongi: I get it, thanks… Wanna play 21 questions?]

[To Yoongi: Yeah sure :)]

We spent the whole night asking each other questions while we studied or did or homework. It was way over 21 questions. From our favorite colors, to our personal philosophies, to politics, we didn’t leave anything unsaid. We wanted to know everything about each other, our views were the same in politics but philosophies was on two different ends. I let everything roll off my shoulders and not let life questions toll at my mind for long, I make my solutions to them and move on. While he ponders on the questions and gets multiple opinions on questions before he, finally, wants to solve him, life’s a problem and he wants to fix it. While life is a solution to me and I just got to plug in the pieces. Debating with him on that was fun, until we went on and talked about our pets.

Seungwan came home and started pestering me about who I was talking to that got me to smile so much. “Oh it’s just Yoongi” I tell her cooly, “Wait isn’t that the guy who you think is cute at work?” I nod my head and she squeals, “I can’t believe you did it!” I raise my eyebrow, “Did what?” “Got his number” “Oh that” I roll my eyes, texting him away, “It’s not just an ‘oh that’ this is an achievement! You can barely talk to people and let alone look at people and now you got his number, I need to know everything!” I laugh that girl, so I tell her everything that led up to us talking and what we’re talking about now. She claps her hands together, “Maybe someone will get a boyfriend for Christmas-” “I couldn’t care less…” I say throwing the covers over my head and she scoffs, “Whatever… I got homework anyways.”

Four days later, Seungwan is working at the daycare, her sideways glances at me when I get three feet away from him are something else. Wooyoung is making a cute little gift for Seokmin, “Do you think he’ll like it?” He asks me curiously, “Yeah any bestest best friend would like that!” His grins brightly as he makes his card for Seokmin, Seungwan comes over to me as she is now watching over the set of triplets having a hassle of telling them apart, “You know Minjae is cute~” I look at her, “If you think she’s cute ask her out-” “Really? I can say the same to you-” I smile “Oh would you look at that Seokmin is calling me over to help him” Seokmin wasn’t calling me, the three of us knew that but I was not going to listen to that conversation. She scoffs going back to the triplets who were causing havoc.

The time comes for all the kids to leave and Ji-yoon comes over and shakes the box filled with our names, and opens it, “Who wants to pick?” None of us step forward, “How about you Seungwan you’re new here so??” Seungwan confidently messes up the paper and draws one, please have mercy on me. I love kids but I don’t like anything that comes out of them other than words and creations. “Yoongi!” I hear Yoongi whine from behind me, twice in a row he’s been Mr. Claus. Seokmin had gotten stomach flu last year and puked on his leg. It was hilarious, and he hit us each up the side of the head after the shift was over for letting it happen. Ji-yoon helped clean Seokmin up while Yoongi had to get the costume cleaned, yuck.

Three days until Christmas and Yoongi hasn’t complained about being Santa since that little whine, he told me that it didn’t bother him that much if he got puke on him. He wanted to see the kids faces of joy when he steps in, and they tell them happily their Christmas list. The joy on the kids faces was worth seeing even if he got puked on. That has to be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, he really love kids. He told me he wanted five after all, and I have to agree but I want mine to be adopted, personally.

Today is the big day at the daycare, Santa is going to be there a few parents are going to be there as well. I’m a reindeer with jingle bells all over me my soft Christmas sweater on. Yoongi getting his Santa costume from Ji-yoon and going to change in Ji-yoon’s office and supposed to make a big thump and act like he fell from the supposed chimney in her office. Well, once everyone has arrived and is situated, we still have time before that. Which involves us placing the cookies out and getting rid of the additional plastic into the office. And getting plates and napkins for everyone ready.

Everyone files in after Ji-yoon lets them in, Wooyoung’s father is my professor for English. That was a little weird, while Seokmin’s mom lives in my apartment complex. Taeyong’s father Hoseok showed up and I introduced myself to him, “So you must be that (Y/n), Yoongi talks about all the time. It’s nice to meet you!” What did he mean that Yoongi talks about me pleasantly or? The world may never know I guess, mostly me. The triplets weren’t here so there parents must have had a day off work to be with them for Christmas, I’ve meet the two, such sweet dads.

Ji-yoon is on the phone and I already know it’s about to happen. She places her phone down and next thing we here is a large boom, and everyone’s heads shake back and forth, trying to figure out where it came from, when the door opens, “Ho! Ho! Ho!” Yoongi comes in prideful and his eyes full of joy as the kids cheer and he sits on his chair, and Minjae got to be an elf this year, along with Jihoon. While Ji-yoon like me, is a reindeer, with pink antlers, while mine are classy brown ones.

Seokmin got up there first and made it without puking and I high five him and he grins at me, “I didn’t puke on Santa this year!!” His mom looks mortified, “You puked on Santa last year?” he nods, “Only you…” She laughs and picks him up into her arms and goes over and start picking up cookies he points out that he wants to try. Personally, I want the jelly thumbprint ones, those are the best.

Surprisingly, Yoongi doesn’t get puked on, and Ji-yoon goes over and asks if any adults would like to go and tell Santa what they want they should! It was cute to see the kids encourage their parents to go up there and tell Santa what they want. Wooyoung’s dad laughed and was the first one to go up. Covering his mouth and whispering he wants something, and Yoongi teased him, “I’m sorry you’d like a what?” Our professor whined, he has to be one of my favorites, “I want a puppy!” Wooyoung shakes his head, “Not another one…” I look at Wooyoung and he mouths to me, ‘we have six’. I get that if I had enough money I’d get a lot of cats. I always thought my English professor was much more of a cat person that proved me wrong quick.

I start watching Yoongi’s reactions more closely, and he looks over at me and winks. Abort! My head screams but I can’t seem to look away, he’s been flirting with me over text, like complimenting my outfits choices, how cute my hair looked when it was all ruffled up. But he hasn’t made a physical move like that, that’s exactly what I was waiting for. We were both playing this game the whole time, yet, not confronting the elephant in the room. Ji-yoon asks the elves to go next, and Jihoon exclaims, “All I want for Christmas is to be taller!” Minjae breaks her composure and starts laughing, her laugh is so contagious that we all started laughing.

Seungwan bumps me as Ji-yoon get on Santa’s knee, she went as a snowflake, “I dare you to go tell Santa what you want...” she teases me, “Snowflake~ I was already” I say proudly marching up Santa my jingle bells announcing my presence, and I carefully sit on his knee, “The first thing on my Christmas list is a date…” He nods, slowly smirking, “Who's the date with?” “Oh this wonderful guy Santa, he makes me laugh, but I don’t know how to say I want to date him, his name is Yoongi and I was going to ask him out, but he isn’t at work today…” I pout, “Well I see what I can do little miss, I’ll tell him to go to the movie theater at eight tonight, would that be good with you?” His smirk is full blown at this point, “That’d be perfect, Santa!” I wink at him and Wooyoung asks me what I asked for since I whispered with ‘Santa,’ “Oh I asked for a cute little kitten!” Wooyoung’s eyes go wide, “I always wanted a kitty!!” If only that kid knew that was what I nicknamed Yoongi in my phone, ‘little kitten’. That kid would shake his head at me, Seung-wan goes up as the only snowflake and tells Santa she wants a new coffee mug. Guess what I’m getting her…

After the festivities ended, I made my way home getting ready since we had a longer day at the daycare going from 6am til 6pm, by the time I'm finished getting ready he's going to be picking me up. It's not like I take two hours to get ready, but I do have the hassle of getting home in the snowy conditions and I'm a careful driver when it happens. I take a shower, put on some ripped skinny jeans and a top with a flannel over it, after I dry my hair.

A knock resounded through the apartment and Seungwan sequels and pushes me toward the door and I throw on my shoes and open the door, and see Yoongi, “Hey,...” I shyly say, before I'm bumped out of the way, “I want to know your name, number, social security number, credit card number and the pin for it” Seungwan says all uppity acting superior her character breaks and starts laughing, I shake my head, “Surprise! She's sadly my roommate.” He laughs, “Shall we get going before she asks to come along?” he nods and links arms with me and leads me to his car.

He puts on Christmas music and I softly sing along, and he starts getting into humming and tapping his fingers on his steering wheel. I look at his hands and wonder what it feels like to hold them. “Yoongi,... can I hold your hand” trying to hold my blush back and he moves his hand off the wheel switching his other to be the controller. His hand rests in mine slowly intertwining our fingers together. If my cheeks weren't already red they are now, and I look over at him and smile at him, he looks over his hair slightly covering his eyes and he gives me a bright smile.

We sing along to Christmas music until he turns off the car in a parking spot right in front of the theater, “Isn't the movie theater closed?” I finally ask realizing that it's Christmas and these things like that aren't usually open on Christmas Day. “Not when you have keys to it~” I raise my eyebrows, “How do you have keys?” I ask quizzically, “I'm the manager here” I nod my head, “Makes since, so what movie are we watching on the big screen?” He winks at me as he unlocks the door and types in the key for the alarm, “You'll see.”

He tells me to pick a row and he'll put the movie in. I sit in the third row. And he comes in after a while with popcorn and candy, and the he tells me the movie will be starting shortly, “I hope you like this movie” he says softly and what comes on is White Christmas it's one of the classics. My favorite Christmas movie of all time and I grin at him, and he grins back.

As the sisters start singing “Sisters” he yawns, and puts his arm around me all sly like, I roll my eyes, leaning in nonetheless. He winks at me, seems to be his thing anymore and we cuddle into each other as much as the divider will let us. “I've watched this every year, never in a movie theater… you have a way of making things special just for me” I softly tell him as we watch them tap dance their way around.

The movie ends sadly, I never wanted it to end. He looks at me his eyes soft, “Can I kiss you?” I nod and he leans in pushing my hair behind my ear, he lifts my chin with his pointer and places the gentlest kiss I've ever had, I look back at him as he pulls away and gently place my hands on either side of his face and kiss him, “I've wanted to do that for a long time.” he whispers to me, “What's stopping you now?” he looks at the armrest between the two of us, I shake my head letting out a chortle, and I move and sit on his lap kissing him again. This is how Christmas should go every year, with my lips on Yoongi's. “Santa really does give you what you want for Christmas” I tease him, “I think so cause I asked for you” I shake my head and rest my on his shoulder and just grin into it. Christmas is coming, I've got what I wanted, I've got what I needed, it's you.  

[wren-bishop]

Bedroom - Thalia

@unathaliatorres

Thalia: The bathroom was taken so Thalia was using one of the bedrooms to fix her eyeliner. She was a little drunk so it wasn't the easiest but she was doing fine until someone walked in and startled her so bad the eyeliner went straight down her cheek "fuck"

Wren: Wren came into one of the bedrooms thinking it was a bathroom, "Oh sorry, I thought this was the bathroom" said Wren until he realized it was Thalia, "Torres you made it!" he said excitedly as he took a sip of his drink, he looked her up and down. She looked ... not like her usual self.

Thalia: Thalia looked at Wren and she admidiatly just melted at the sight of him but tried her best not to smile like a goof" Oh hey Wren, yeah I got a coworker to take my shift, came here with Kimmy but she went off with O,iver really quickly"

Wren: Wren gave her a big hug, "I'm so glad you're here!" he said excited and a little tipsy, "Well that's too bad" he said with a sad face, "You need to find some single friends to hangout with" he joked.

Thalia: For some reason that last comment offended Thalia, it made her frown and she took her time trying to decide how to reply while they hugged "I don't need single friends, just cause I'm single, does that mean im not good enough for my friends who arent single? like you?" She hated how people never seemed to controle their tongue when they were drunk, now she was one of them

Wren: "Dude, I just meant you should have people around that aren't going to ditch you for their boyfriend or girlfriend" said Wren kind of confused at where this was coming from, "Kimmy's texts didn't make sense, what is going on with you? Are you okay? Is this about Chase?" he asked.

Thalia: " Chase is an asshole, he is not worth moping about" she said more boldly then she had expected." What did Kimmy say to you?"

Wren: "I don't know it was super weird and cryptic. Something about you liking people who don't want to be with you and how it hurts you" said Wren trying to remember the texts, "I'll beat a guy up if I have to" he added to be supportive.

Thalia: "I mean, I agree, that's very vague because I do get turned down by pretty much every guy i like" she said more bluntly then she'd usually do. "But im just...I've been in love with the same dude for a long time and it's time to let go...but it hurts like a mother fucker.. you know?" she didnt know where she was going with this, it was like her brain had just taken a pee break and her mouth was tlaking wihtout it.

Wren: "There's no way, you're a total catch Torres" said Wren earnestly. "Wait, how do I not know about this? Who is it?" asked Wren, "and I bet he does like you. I hate seeing you like this" he added. He had no clue who the hell she was talking about, especially because Chase had just moved to town last year so it couldn't be him.

Thalia: Thalia sighed dramatically" If I'm sucha catch then doesn't anyone want to catch me? I'm so sick of people telling me that, especially people i know would never want to date me" She could feel herself tremble with each words  and then she paused and just stared at him for a bit. " Do you remember back in 2nd grade when I found you crying because no one wanted to be your valentine?"

Wren: Wren just listened as she ranted, "I mean not really ... I mean my parents, nana and pops, rory, and chanel, and of course you gave me valentines. I don't really remember it being a bad day" said Wren not really recalling what she was talking about, "why?" he asked, wondering why she was talking about this right now.

Thalia: " Because ... you were like...drowning in tears and it hurt so much to see you that way,....I wanted to tell you that you were my only valentine...I wanted you to know that you were wanted...I just didn't have the guts to tell you....and i couldn't tell you any other moment I had the chance to...not even when you left and I had basically nothing to lose...and then you come back and I still can't tell you...and then..and then it's just way too late..." She couldn't look at him anymore

Wren: "Torres what are you talking about?" said Wren, kind of remembering it. He must've pushed the memory out of his mind a long time ago. "Are you saying that I've been rejecting you this whole time?" he said concerned, "Thalia ... I um. I mean I feel awful but I just. I don't really know what to say ... are you saying that you're into me? I don't understand" he said confused, he'd never had anyone be into him other than Valerie.

Thalia: There it was, she had ruined everything at last. But at that moment it didnt matter, she was just too emotional to think straight"Of course I'm into you" She let out with a wounded voice"I've been pining for you for years....."She sait down on the bed and stared at her hands"I really thought I was over it after you left, i told myself it had just been a silly crush...and it felt like a silly crush..until you came back and it all just...swallowed me whole again...and..I just can't pretend anymore because it's exchausting and it's draining and it's fucking painful"

Wren: "Why would you be into me this makes no sense" said Wren just kind of dumbstruck by the whole thing. He had no idea, "I'm really sorry Thalia, but like I can't be sorry that I'm seeing someone. We should talk about this when you're sober. I should go, but know that I care about you like a lot" he replied as he turned around and left the room.

Thalia: Him leaving like this, that abruptly hurt more then anything had ever done, and it also told her all she needed to know. This was why she never said anything, nothing she would say would change anything, he'd still be in love with Valery and Thalia would still just be his friend, she knew it would make more damage then good and right now she hated herself for cracking.  She cried for a while before getting up and leaving the room as well.