#poison of choice tonight is TV Girl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aggravatetheaxe · 3 years

Text

BO SINCLAIR X TRANS MAN / MAN ALIGNED READER COMING OUT - Pt. 1 - Under Your Skin

This title is SAFE FOR WORK. Pt. 2, Over the Moon, will be NSFW. I'll link that here when it's written!

You met Bo while you were still presenting as a woman. Suffice to say things have changed, and you can't keep your secret from him any longer. You have no choice but to tell him or leave ... but what if he makes you leave anyway?

CW: descriptions of dysphoria that get very intense, deadnaming/misgendering, mentions of murder and mortal peril, it's 2005 and Bo is from the south so just be advised it's not all fluff and rainbows (but there is payoff, this isn't straight angst, it's just a journey)

Soundtrack: x

Words: 4,175

Part Two

Masterlist

***

Your shoulders were stiff. Your throat was dry. Your leg was bouncing, the only thing you could do to release the nervous energy juttering through your body.

You were going to tell him.

You'd put it off for months now, not quite sure how to say the words. Then, when you'd arranged them in your head, fear had kept you from saying them out loud. But you couldn't wait anymore. You couldn't live like this any longer.

You'd been hiding the secret for too long. Every time Bo called you by your birth name or made some quip about you being his girl, your heart shriveled just a little more. It had gotten to the point where you didn't even want compliments from him ... you didn't want to talk. You didn't even really want to sleep with him, didn't like to think about him looking at you as a woman during sex.

He didn't know, of course. But that almost made it worse. He couldn't stop hurting you and you couldn't yell at him for it. It was always the same: you lost control, you got frustrated, wouldn't tell him why, he'd get frustrated, you'd fight ... it was a mess. You knew all that was putting a strain on your relationship.

So it had to be tonight.

It had to be tonight.

You had everything planned. You'd already gone into town with Lester and picked up some stuff for a nice dinner; there was a fresh, cold six-pack of Bud in the fridge; and Rocky III was sitting in the VHS player, ready to go. Once he was relaxed, you'd talk to him.

You'd convinced yourself so fully that you'd stick to the plan that when you heard his truck pull up and your heart leapt into your throat, you nearly cried. Fuck, not again. Not another night. You were supposed to be stronger than this.

Stomping boots on the porch. You heard the door swing open from the kitchen. "I'm home."

He didn't sound like he was in a particularly good mood, but it didn't sound like a bad one, either. That was good news, at least. Things must have gone okay down at the shop. "I'm in here!" you called back.

Bo appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, tracking a little gravel into the house as always. He leaned against the doorframe with one hand on his hip, gesturing with his chin. "Hey, sugar. What you got there?"

You looked down at the meal you were plating. "I thought I'd try a pot roast? I dunno. I don't think it came out very good, but I guess we'll see."

He didn't say anything. You glanced over your tense shoulder to see him simply staring at you, like he was trying to read your thoughts. You could sense the gears in his head turning behind those clever blue eyes of his. He knew there was something wrong; you were guarded.

For a moment, you thought he might say something. That familiar little bit of irritation was beginning to creep into his face, right around his neck and jaw. But after a few seconds, he simply said, "A'right," and straightened. "M'gonna go change."

"'Kay." As he stomped up the stairs, you finished getting the food ready and brought the plates to the living room. Bo usually ate at the table—"I ain't a savage"—but you could tell he liked eating on the couch. It was like a special treat. And clearly, you were short on charm at the moment, so you'd have to use your environment to your advantage.

You pulled up two tray tables and set the food down, then fetched the beer. By the time everything was set up, Bo was coming back down the stairs.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to look at him. He was wearing jeans and a red flannel, sleeves rolled up. At this point, he didn't care about you seeing his scars. You hardly noticed them anymore.

He came closer and slowed to a stop, forehead wrinkling as he eyed your set-up. "What's all this about?"

"I was thinking dinner and a movie." You paused. "I thought Rocky might get the taste of my cooking out of your mouth."

You succeeded in making him laugh a little, crow's feet crinkling, but as he took a step closer, his smile faded. "Did you do somethin'? Is somethin' broken?" He glanced quickly, running his gaze over the clutter his parents had left behind.

"Nothing's wrong," you reassured him quickly, stepping back into his line of sight in the hopes of distracting him. "I just thought, you know, we could have a nice night. Like ... romantic?"

He stared at you for a moment. Then, his gaze lit, a toothy smile appearing. "Romantic, huh? Well hell, sweetie, why didn't ya say so?"

He clearly thought you meant sex. In fact, the way he was looking at you, you thought he'd jump you right up against the pool table if you let him. Your dysphoria made sex so unbearable that you'd been avoiding it when you could lately, and you were sure he missed it.

You were lucky he hadn't gotten mean yet. You guessed that was a testament to how much he must like you. But who knew if he'd like you after tonight?

Quickly, you shoved a beer into his hand, redirecting his attention as you slid onto the couch and clicked play. He slid into place beside you, relaxing back with his legs spread.

You both picked at your food—you because you were way too nervous to eat, and him because ... well, you assumed it was because he was waiting for you to initiate the "romance." He did eventually finish his meal, though, complimenting you with one of his "So good, baby"s and a boozy kiss.

The movie droned on, and eventually, he wrapped an arm around you. As he did, you relaxed, if only a little. You wanted to settle into him ... you wanted it more than anything in the world. You did love him. But who did he love? The woman he thought he was putting his arm around wasn't you.

"What's wrong?" His tone was firm and sudden after such a long stretch of silence.

You blinked at him. "Nothing."

He wasn't buying it, and he didn't look impressed. "There's no point in lyin'a me, darlin'. I know when somethin' ain't right." Then, with a little edge to his voice, "You know I get pissed when you brush me off."

"I'm just..." You sighed, setting your beer aside and rubbing your forehead. "I'm just tired, that's all."

"Let's go to bed, then." In one fluid motion, he stood and turned off the TV. "Hope you're not too tired," he added quietly.

It was equal parts insult, warning, and come-on, and it exhausted you as much as it panicked you. You weren't ready to tell him just yet. You'd figured you still had a few hours, but ... well, if you pissed him off now, all this nice set-dressing had been for nothing. Then you'd either have to tell him while he was in a bad mood or spend another night as someone you weren't.

Biting back a sigh, you stood, too. He was waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, and let you go up first.

"Nice view from back here," he said smoothly. "Almost wanna tell you to start runnin'."

Shit. You needed an excuse to buy yourself a little time. "Can you shower first?"

You knew the question ticked him off because he didn't answer it. He followed you to your shared room, grabbed a towel, and left for the bathroom in heated silence.

The shower would make him feel better. It always did. He'd scald himself like he liked, then come out much calmer. Hopefully. You changed and took your place in bed, sitting under the blankets with your pillow propping you up. Waiting.

You were wrong about the calm. When he came back into the bedroom—red-skinned and completely naked, towel occupied in his hair—he was scowling at the floor. You waited for him to yell. It was inevitable.

When he did finally say something, his tone was quieter than you imagined, though simmering. "Why are you doin' this to me?"

You didn't respond, mostly because you had no idea which this he was talking about.

"Hurts my pride, y'know." He began toweling his body. Rather roughly, you noticed. "My girl don't wanna fuck me. You know how that feels as a man? You think I wanna have to— hurt you?"

A pause. "Bo..."

"Am I gonna have to get it somewhere else? Fuck, Deadname."

You shrank in bed. That name made you feel rotten to the core. It was like poison slowly choking your veins. You had to do this ... but you couldn't. But you had to.

Bo was unaware of the war going on inside of you as he turned, leaning against the dresser, arms back to clutch the edge. "Is it someone else?" You could tell he was murderous just thinking about that possibility, gaze aflame, jaw clenched so hard you thought he might break teeth. "Is it Vincent?"

"What? No!" Why he'd think that when you'd only ever expressed mild concern for Vincent's well-being, you had no idea. "There's no one else, Bo, I just—"

"Then what's a matter with you, huh?" He raised his voice. "Am I too rough, am I too— Jesus Christ, you gotta at least tell me what the damage is!"

Your conflicting emotions threatened to overwhelm you. You yelled back, "It's not you!"

"Then what the hell is it?!"

"It's me!"

He opened his mouth to shout back, but only managed, "What in the f—" before he lost steam, searching your face helplessly. Something about the way you looked must have given him pause. You meant what you said. Desperately, desperately. It was you. You were the problem.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low, glare pointed. "You been off all night. Hell"—one of those incredulous laughs that betrayed his genuine anger—"you been off for a while. Least you can do is tell me what the fuck is goin' on."

He was right. No turning back now. You took a deep, grounding breath. "Okay."

A moment of hesitation. Did you want him close or across the room like that, just in case? Eventually, you decided you needed him close. You patted the bed beside you.

Bo grabbed a pair of boxer-briefs, stepping into them on his way over. His expression was still twisted sourly, but you could sense him relax as he sat in bed next to you. He didn't meet your eye, simply looking down at the sheets. Beneath the anger, a begrudging expectation simmered. Did he think you were going to break things off?

That thought spurred you into taking his hand, squeezing lightly. "I love you so fucking much."

He glanced to the side. At length, he mumbled, "You, too."

You took another deep breath, trying to keep your voice from shaking. "There's something I haven't told you about me. And it's really been stressing me out lately. That's why I've been acting so weird." When he didn't reply, you continued, "It's been making it ... hard to be close to you. I don't like the way lying to you makes me feel, and I've been ... scared, so fucking scared, Bo."

He glanced at you again, brows drawn, this time with confusion rather than anger. "So what is it? What the hell can be so big an' important that you can't stand bein' around me?" A pause. "I mean shit, Deadname, you know I kill people for a livin'. My fucked up twin turns 'em into wax. You know about the fuckin' dungeon—what could be bigger'n that?"

That fucking name. You couldn't take it anymore. Your voice cracked as you whispered, "You need to stop calling me Deadname."

"What? Why?" He frowned deeply. "That's your name, ain't it?"

"It's not the name I want to be called."

You could almost hear the gears in his head turning as he tried to figure out what was going on. "Okay ... so it ain't your real name. Why you goin' around using a fake name?" His gaze turned flinty and cold. "You're a cop."

"No!" You held up your hands. "No, I didn't lie about who I was, not ... not in the way you're thinking. I was born with that name; everything I've told you about my life and where I came from, all those things were true. I never lied about any of that."

"Then what is it?" He was getting angry again. "Spit it out!"

Well, since he asked... "I don't want to use that name because ... it's a woman's name. And I'm not a woman. I'm a man."

Bo stared for a few seconds, then scanned you up and down once. His shoulders slumped, just slightly. "You were ... born a man? Then how come your name—"

"No, no." You pursed your lips, taking his hand hesitantly again. "I was ... I guess for simplicity's sake you could say I was born a girl. I was born with a vagina, I developed breasts and started my period naturally. But I'm not a girl. Like, in my head. In my brain, I'm actually a man."

He didn't believe you. You could see it in his face. But you weren't planning on giving up that easily. You knew what he'd be thinking; you'd planned this whole thing out so carefully, chosen your words so precisely.

"It's not ... a delusion or anything. It's actually more common than people think. It's called being transgender. When you're born one gender but you want to be another."

He frowned, obviously completely lost. He wasn't getting it. He just didn't fucking understand. And you were growing desperate.

"Bo." Your throat was raw, tears threatening your eyes. "Every time you call me your girl, or you refer to me as a woman, or you use that name ... I fucking hate it. It hurts. It hurts so goddamn bad to know you're not seeing the real me. It makes me not see the real me. I look in the mirror and I just want to ... tear my skin off. Sometimes I just wanna take a knife and— and fix me. Cut out whatever part of me makes it hurt so bad. I just want to be seen as who I am so bad."

"Okay." You didn't like the way he was looking at you, but the anguish in your voice had at least moved him to speak. You could see in his eyes that he was working overtime to puzzle this out. "So, what? What're you gonna do? What's it mean for us?"

"Well..." You had to break eye contact, staring down at his hand. "What I'd like to do is start living as a man. You know, dressing like a man—which I already pretty much do—going by a different name, maybe cutting my hair. You could call me 'he' ... I might even get medicine later on down the line, like hormones, to make me look squarer. Maybe even surgery."

"You gonna get a dick?" The almost mocking tone of his voice made you want to shrivel up and die. He seemed to pick up on the change in your body immediately and shifted his tone. "I'm askin'."

"No, that's not a thing. But I'm gonna be a man regardless." Finally, you released his hand, though you still couldn't look at him. "What that means for us is ... up to you, I guess. It'd mean you were dating a guy. I mean, you have been this whole time—"

"I didn't fucking know," he cut in firmly.

A jolt of fear lanced your heart. "I know. That's my fault; I didn't tell you. I was ... scared."

"Scared of what?" he pressed, tone growing aggressive.

"I don't know. Of you being mad. Or not loving me anymore." You glanced up. "I love you. Seriously, I do. More than anything. I still want to be with you, just ... as a man."

There was silence. A horrible, stretching, heavy silence that made you want to hang your head and cry. After a while, Bo rose from bed, going to the dresser and pulling on jeans and a T-shirt, all in that silence.

Was he ... leaving you? No, he wouldn't leave his own house, he'd make you leave. Or kill you. But he certainly wasn't opening his arms to you. Waves of sadness crashed over your chest, so intense you thought you'd throw up.

He seemed to contemplate the dresser for an extended period. Then, he glanced over his shoulder, just barely. "I need ta' think."

And with that, he was out the door. He didn't come back to bed that night. The next morning, you found his pillow on the couch.

***

Vincent was next on your list of people to tell. It turned out he was a big help, bigger than you could have ever realized he would be. You had to explain yourself, but he took it in stride, calling you by your new chosen name and even helping you come up with a sign for it.

« Did you tell Bo? » he eventually asked you.

"I told him last night." Your eyes were still puffy and red from your night alone, and the morning following it. You still hadn't seen him, but you could hear music blaring from the garage, so you at least knew where he was.

« How did he take it? »

"He isn't speaking to me."

Vincent paused. His wax face was blank as always, but you could tell he was considering something. « Did he yell? »

"No ... he just said he would think about it."

A low grunt, and Vincent nodded. « Then let him think. »

And he did think. He thought about it every night from then on. You could see him thinking during meal times, when you brought him lunch down at the shop, when he was watching TV. You noticed him zoning out in the middle of reading sometimes: paperback crunched and folded in one hand, other hand pressed to his grim mouth, those blue eyes glassy and staring at nothing. Thinking.

He hardly ever spoke to you outside of necessary communication. Before bed, he told you goodnight, but it was ... heavy. He didn't roll over to touch you or hold you anymore. The distance was yawning and heartbreaking, especially when you were alone. The silence was so pregnant with unsaid words and all his damn thoughts.

You wanted to ask if he was mad, but you didn't dare. He didn't seem mad, and you knew a thing or two about his moods. This seemed ... different. So you simply didn't say anything.

And then, one day...

"Hey, handsome."

His voice practically made you jump out of your skin. You, Vincent, and Bo—and sometimes Lester—divided who would have to go into the houses in Ambrose to dust and clean, and today was your day. He'd snuck up on you in the middle of oiling some of the rigs like he'd taught you.

"Uh. Hey." You managed a hasty smile, uncertain you'd actually heard him call you what you thought he had. "What're you doing here?" After a week of him barely speaking to you, it seemed odd that he'd start now.

Bo took a few steps in, looking away and reaching to fiddle with a knick-knack on a nearby side table. "Just thought I'd come check up on you. You are my, uh ... boyfriend, after all."

You stopped dead in the middle of spraying WD-40, staring over your shoulder. What?

When he felt you staring, he lifted his gaze. There was an uncertainty there, discomfort, along with a challenge. "What?"

"Nothing." You turned back to your work. After a few seconds, you added, "Thank you."

He didn't respond, but he eventually sidled up to you, surveying your work. "Not half bad. Yeah, you're doin' real good." He reached up to adjust his hat, and you could feel his gaze on you. "We'll make a man outta you yet."

You couldn't help it—your face burned. "Girls can maintain machinery, too, Bo."

"Yeah, I know that, but you—" An edge of irritation entered his voice. "Now you're just confusin' me."

You set down the WD-40 and turned, searching his face. By god, he really was trying, wasn't he? It was almost cute how bad he was at it, but he was trying. Vincent had been right.

"You never asked my name," you eventually muttered.

"Vincent told me it. Y/N." He said it again, rolling it around on his tongue. "Y/N ... in'erestin' choice. I guess it suits ya." A pause, and he lowered his voice. "Gonna take me some gettin' used to."

"That's okay," you said quickly. "As long as you're trying."

"Yeah, well..." Bo paused before reaching out, brushing his fingers through your hair. "Gonna miss all this."

You leaned into his hand. "I might not cut it. I haven't decided yet."

He grunted, continuing to brush his fingers through your hair. You could see his expression drift back to that thoughtfulness you'd gotten used to seeing. Eventually, he said, "Guess this makes me gay."

He sounded so begrudging and yet so decisive that you almost laughed in his face. Thankfully, you were able to bite back your reaction. "You don't have to be. You can be whatever you want. But ... if you stayed with me, it would mean you were attracted to at least one man, yeah."

"Fine." He pursed his lips, huffing through his nose. "Bi-sexual or whatever."

"You don't have to put a label on it right now. You've got time." You hesitated before taking his large hands in yours, bringing them to cup your jaw. "This ... you know ... it isn't something that has to happen overnight. I'm not asking that. It's a process for both of us ... a lot to get used to for both of us."

"Sure the hell is." He scoffed and shoved his hat up his forehead, scratching his hairline. "Now I want you to tell me somethin'. Why were you so damn scared of tellin' me?"

You took a breath. "I mean ... Bo."

"What?"

"I'm in the south ... alone, no family ... in a town where you could kill me if I pissed you off and no one would ever know." He made a face, but you pressed: "You know where I come from. Things are dangerous there, and things around here are even—"

"You think just 'cause you're in the country folks are gonna treat you different?" He sounded offended.

"Bo," you said again. "Let's not kid ourselves. How many guys do you know who would beat my ass if they found out? If they found out I liked other men, even."

"Couple assholes. But they ain't gonna bother you with me around. B'sides, plenty a' gays around here, like any other place ... they're just drillin' and weldin' and workin' the factories." He fixed you with a look. "Country don't mean stupid."

"Did you just quote The Stand?"

"No," he said hastily, taking his hat off and shoving it in the back pocket of his Dickies. "All I'm sayin' is ... I'm not some dumb animal."

Your shoulders sank, heart softening. "I know you're not, baby. But you have been known to, y'know, murder people. You can understand why I was scared, can't you?"

His mouth twitched, but reluctantly, he mumbled, "Yeah, I guess." A pause. "I can't promise I won't never hurt you, Deadn— Y/N. I know I can be real careless with my words on occasion. But I won't kill ya. Don' know if I could reconcile that shame. And, uh ... I love you."

Your heart swelled, and you leaned forward, hugging him tightly around the middle. It wasn't long until you felt his strong, warm arms enfold you in return, one hand tangling in your hair. His heartbeat was steady and comforting beneath your head, and the heat radiating from him relaxed every muscle in your body.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, hugging tightly while the TV droned in the background. Eventually, he shifted and spoke, his voice rumbling deliciously against you.

"Now if you don't mind," Bo started casually before dropping into a purr, "I'd like a kiss from my handsome lover."

You couldn't help but grin up at him. "You sure?"

"Lay it on me, big boy."

Maybe you were evil for loving him despite it all. Maybe you were complicit. Those weren't your judgments to make. But as you craned your neck to kiss him and euphoria exploded through your chest, you knew one thing for certain:

You were you.

***

Part Two

Masterlist

Tip Jar

#bo sinclair imagine #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #house of wax 2005 #slasher fic #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher imagine #written #vincent sinclair

161 notes · View notes

gingeralepdf · 4 years

Text

A Little Love

A/N: here she isss!!! this is the piece that i wrote for the Pick Your Poison Fic Challenge that was set up by the amazing @andwhenshesays @for-fucks-sake-h and @oh-honey-styles (thank you for organizing all of this!! you’re all legends!!)

extra big thank you to lydia @youresogolden-h and brailey @daydreamsofh for being such sweet beta readers <3

this is my first ever attempt at writing fic, so i hope you enjoy it!

****CONTENT WARNING**** alcohol consumption

Harry is your best friend and your coworker, but you see him as more. Maybe you both just want a little love.

word count: ~8K

**April 25, 2020, 11:15am**

It’s a comfortable spring day in San Francisco. The windows are cracked, letting in sweet smelling fresh air and the moderate bustle of people out and about. Despite the perfect weather to be out at the market or taking a walk in the park, you’re currently at your neighbor’s apartment, slouched on the couch in the living room and in the midst of a New Girl marathon. Or rather, you are in the midst of a New Girl marathon, but your friend has not looked up from the guitar he is restringing for the past fifteen minutes.

You’ve been stealing glances at Harry from the other end of the couch. He has the guitar laying across his lap. He’s able to take all of the strings off and put three new ones on without a problem, but something about the fourth string seems to be giving him a lot of trouble. Every time he gets the string wound up on the tuning key, it snaps loose, like it can’t hold the tension. After several attempts with the same result, Harry sets his string winder on the coffee table and lets out a frustrated huff while scratching his forehead.

Although you know it’s probably best to not make a comment while he’s annoyed, you decide to make one anyway.

Just as he grabs the winder from the coffee table and goes in for another attempt at the string, you blurt out, “I thought the whole point of watching Netflix at your house instead of mine was so you could work and watch at the same time.”

Harry rolls his eyes and slowly cranes his head to look in your direction, “I am watching.”

“Right, so tell me what Miranda has been up to,” you challenge.

Harry lowers his head in concentration, making another attempt at winding up the string on the tuning key, “She’s like… going on a date or something.”

“Miranda isn’t even a character in the show!”

The tuning key once again snaps loose. Harry’s nostrils flare and he mutters a quick “Fucks sake.”

A moment passes where the only sound in the room is the TV. You’re trying to gauge whether or not you’ve actually pissed him off a bit. You decide to bite your tongue and see what he is going to say next.

Harry finally shifts his eyes from the guitar to you, “Obviously I can’t work and watch at the same time.”

You give him a pointed look, “You think?”

“I promise I can finish this project pretty quick, and then I’ll watch, like, four episodes, uninterrupted. I just need to go get some parts so… would you mind pausing it?”

Once the show is paused, Harry gets up from his spot on the couch, gently sets the guitar on the floor, and turns to exit the living room. However, he is stopped short since your legs are making a barricade between the couch and the coffee table. With a mischievous grin on his face, he uses his shin to slowly push your legs away from him so that your feet slide off the end of the table and onto the floor. Your jaw drops in exaggerated offense. Giggles erupt from both of you as he narrowly avoids your attempts to trip him while he steps over your legs and then jogs across the room to his workspace.

A huge benefit of living a couple of buildings away from your best friend is that any given day of the week can be spent like this. The both of you can always be found at either one of your apartments watching hours of Netflix, working on projects, or sharing meals.

Just as you were enjoying the moment of silence that fell onto the room, your phone and Harry’s phone buzz on the coffee table. With a quiet groan, you slowly sit up from the couch to see a text from your boss, sent in a group chat with yourself and Harry.

Would either of you be able to work the closing shift tonight? Sarah called in sick and the rest of the shift leads can’t work today.

Although you and Harry were both looking forward to having a Saturday off, you knew the bar was a little short-staffed this weekend, so you both kind of saw this coming.

“Is that who I think it is?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, Adam’s asking one of us to work the closing shift tonight. Sarah called in sick and I guess Charlotte can’t work today.”

Harry groans as he makes his way back to his previous spot on the couch and plops down with a screwdriver and a plastic bag containing what looks to be a new set of tuning keys in hand.

Harry takes a moment to look around his living room, taking in all of the instrument cases stacked around the small apartment, scratching his jaw in thought. “I mean, I would take it, but I’ve got a lot of projects that have to get done this weekend.”

“I guess that just leaves me then,” you say flatly, sinking further into the couch and staring straight ahead out of the window across the room.

“‘M’ sorry,” Harry says with a light chuckle at your dramatics, “I’ll owe you one.” His offer comes out more like a question.

You look back in his direction to see him with a wide, dimpled grin staring back at you. You know he’s just trying to make you feel better, and it works.

After sending a quick text to your boss letting him know you would be there tonight, you sit up straight and grab the remote from the coffee table. “That’s a really tempting offer. I’ve got a lot of sick days saved up, you know?”

“Heyyyy,” Harry draws out in a playfully offended tone.

You chuckle before asking, “Can we just finish this episode so I can go home and get some rest before work?”

“Yeah I think we can do that.” He sets the screwdriver and plastic bag on the coffee table and leans back on the couch, folding his hands together to rest on his stomach.

You press play on the remote and settle into another day with your best friend.

**April 26, 2020. 1:47am**

About ten minutes until the bar closes, and there are still three large, lively groups hanging around. You and your coworkers have done as many pre-closing tasks as you possibly could, aside from taking the drink glasses straight out of the customers’ hands. Now it just seems to be the longest waiting game ever until you’re officially allowed to kick everyone out.

While you’re all busying yourselves with wiping down counters and straightening chairs, the front door swings open.

Just as you’re about to put on your best customer service face that you can muster, you see a familiar blue and white plaid jacket and fluffy brown curls. Harry is strolling in, surveying the crowd of customers as he’s making his way to where you’re standing at the bar. You see that he is donning a form-fitting grey t-shirt with a bright yellow smiley face on it, light brown high-waisted pants, and a delicate looking pearl necklace. He always seems to be able to effortlessly look put together, even when he is making bold choices.

You look at him with raised eyebrows and ask with exaggerated charm, “Come here often?”

“Oh god.” He laughs at your ill attempt at comedy through a pained expression.

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugs, “Same as always.”

Harry has made it a routine to walk home with you when you’re working the closing shift. Even when you insist that there’s no need for him to stay up so late when he’s not working.

He glances around before looking back at you, “Is there anything I can help with right now?”

You shake your head. “Just waiting for them to leave so we can clean everything.”

“Bollocks,” he mutters before puckering his lips.

You decide to go around the corner of the bar to the prep area where the music controls are. Hopefully the customers will take the hint that it’s time to leave once you lower the volume.

After a few minutes, all of the staff are breathing a collective sigh of relief when one group makes their way to the door and the other two groups shortly follow suit.

By the time you follow the crowd out and you lock the door, it’s 2:05 a.m. Considering how busy it was tonight, you’re counting this as a small victory.

Harry and your other coworkers are going around cleaning up glasses and bottles and taking them back to the sink while you make your way to the register to start your shift lead duties.

Once the tips are divided, you take a look around and see that your coworkers are steadily making their way through the cleaning checklist. With Harry’s help, things are moving along pretty quickly. You pull the first bundle of cash out of the drawer and start counting.

After getting the cash drawer sorted out, and counting out a new one for Monday, you hear your coworker saying your name. “I think we’ve done everything on the cleaning checklist. Is there anything else you need help with?”

“Actually, all I have left to do is inventory. I’m not gonna hold you hostage for that, so you guys are free to head out if you want to.”

Your coworkers are saying goodnight and clocking out shortly after. Once they're gone, you’re left with the faint buzzing of the refrigerators and the light music over the speakers. You turn around to face the shelves of bottles and notice a few that are running low and need replacing. You go down the ‘employees only’ hallway to the back stockroom and grab all the bottles you need. Hugging them to your chest, you make your way back down the hallway. You walk about halfway when a figure jumps out of the supply closet to your right, causing you to jump backwards and let out a scream.

Harry’s howling laughter echoes through the hallway as you try to catch your breath and will your heart to stop racing.

You finally regain some composure and turn to fully face Harry. His laughter has reduced to occasional soft chuckles falling past his pursed lips. If your arms weren’t full, you would most likely be smacking him for scaring the shit out of you.

“What the hell were you thinking?” You do your best to give him death glare, but your voice is now shaking with laughter as well. “You’re lucky I didn’t drop any of this stuff, you idiot.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry but you should have seen your face. Holy shit.” He opens his arms and slowly steps toward you to bring you in for a hug.

“Well if you’re so sorry, put these on the shelf for me.” You say as you thrust the bottles into his chest, making him grunt out a laugh.

You walk to the front with Harry trailing behind you. All you have left to do is make a few notes for Adam before finally clocking out. You’ve never been more excited for your head to hit the pillow when you get home.

As you’re making your notes, Harry is pacing about behind you, straightening out all of the bottles on the shelves. He lets out a long observant hum.

“What?”

“Just noticed this guy’s almost empty,” he holds up a bottle of tequila and swirls around what little liquor is left in it. One corner of his mouth turns up before he looks at you, “Enough left for two more shots, probably.”

“Is that so?”

“Y’ wanna find out?”

“I don’t know,” you say as you tilt your head up and tap your chin in thought “I don’t know how I feel about taking shots with people who jump out of supply closets to scare me.”

“Oh c’mon, don’t be like that.” He’s exaggerating and drawing all of his words out as he walks over to you. He wraps his arms around you so that his hands are resting on your left shoulder and he rests the side of his head on the back of yours. “I’m sorry. Please take a shot with me.”

Although it's pointless since he can’t see your face, you roll your eyes in response, “Fine. Pour me one.”

His hand gives your shoulder a light squeeze before he moves away and reaches under the counter then puts two shot glasses onto the bar. He reaches behind him for the nearly empty bottle and pours the perfect amount into each glass. Taking them both in his hands, he extends one to you.

You don’t miss the chuckle that he lets out as you take the glass from him. After giving him a questioning look, you notice a slight blush on his face.

“What’s so funny?”

“Was just thinking. This,” he gestures to the two of you and the glasses you’re both holding “reminds me of the day you got into the art institute.”

Around this time a year ago, you had spent weeks pouring over your application for the San Francisco Art Institute and months after that waiting to hear anything back. When you got the acceptance email toward the end of your shift at work, Harry was the first person that you told. Just over a year ago, you were standing with Harry behind this same bar when you told him the good news. Your chest filled with warmth at his reaction. He wrapped you in a nearly suffocating hug as he loudly declared, “I told you you had a kick ass portfolio! So fuckin proud of you.”

Right after he released you from the hug, he poured each of you a shot. Harry then made the impromptu decision of doing a bar crawl after you both got off, deeming the two shots “not enough celebration”.

After a night full of slightly over the top celebrating, you were practically dragging Harry home. It wasn’t until you got to his apartment building that he realized he had left his keys and wallet at one of the bars. Not wanting to drag him back across town, you ended up bringing him back to your apartment just around the corner.

It took a lot of coaxing, but you were able to get him to drink a big glass of water before helping him brush his teeth with your spare toothbrush.

You have a lot of vague and fuzzy memories from that night, but there are two that remain crystal clear. One is the moment when you were clumsily leading him to your couch and he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Wish I could kiss you.” And the other is the way your stomach dropped and your heart nearly fluttered out of control at his drunken confession.

The conversations about that night always turned into jokes about you being able to handle your liquor better than he could. His comment was never brought up by either of you. You weren’t sure if he would even remember it, or if either of you really wanted to.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “we should never be allowed to celebrate anything after that. We were miserable the next day.”

You lock eyes with him and for a split second there’s something in his eyes that you don’t quite recognize. Like a different kind of softness that you hadn’t seen before this moment.

It’s fleeting, however, because he glances down at your hands and clinks your glasses together. You tilt your heads back at the same time, feeling the burn in your throats and letting out sharp exhales once it’s passed.

Harry takes your glass from your hand and silently goes to the prep area. You hear the sink running as you finish up your notes to your boss and you clock out.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah I just need to get my-” you stop mid-sentence when you turn around to see Harry already holding out your bag that had been hanging up in the prep area. You mutter a ‘never mind’ as you take it from him.

Harry grabs his jacket from the pool table and you stroll to the front door together, turning off lights as you go.

You finally step out into the chilly nighttime air. The only noises are coming from the small scattered groups of people gathering in front of the bars on the block that are just closing.

After locking the doors, you and Harry start trudging along the sidewalk up the steep hill. If you had known that it was going to get so much colder and windier during the night, you would have brought a jacket with you. You fold your arms and grit your teeth as another cold breeze hits you from the front.

You don’t even notice Harry taking off his jacket until he’s holding it in front of your face. You pause your walking for a moment to gently take it from his hand.

“Aren’t you gonna be cold?”

“Well I’m not gonna watch you shiver all the way home.”

You frown a bit as you look at the jacket in your hands. You can still feel the warmth from Harry’s body heat on the hand that’s grasping the inside of it. Having that little bit of warmth already makes you feel better, but you hate to think that he’s going to be the one gritting his teeth against the cold.

He says your name through a chuckle and you look up to meet his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Just put the jacket on and let’s get you home, yeah?”

**April 26th, 2020. 5:30am**

It should be considered a crime to be wide awake at this hour, considering the small amount of sleep you’ve gotten. The only thing you had the energy to do when you got home last night was change out of your work clothes and fall into bed. You remember glancing at your clock and reading 3:15 a.m. before your eyelids grew heavy and closed.

The reminder of Harry’s drunk confession that you thought was water under the bridge is now flooding your mind as you desperately try to fall back to sleep. You try to push down the memory of his giggles as you made the strenuous effort of finding the switch on your living room lamp while having nearly all of his body weight leaned against you for support. You try to push down the memory of his flushed cheeks in the glowing yellow light when you finally got him settled on your couch. You try to push down the memory of running your fingers through his soft curls and giving his hairline a soft kiss before going to bed. You try to think of literally anything else.

It isn’t until the very first hints of daylight enter your room that you decide to give up.

The floor is cold on your feet as you walk to your bathroom, rubbing your tired eyes.

After a quick shower and putting on your favorite t-shirt and jeans, you feel less sluggish. You focus on going through your kitchen pantry to find something for your growling stomach.

Although you wish that you were still sleeping soundly in your bed, you think of how rare it is to get to see this city both at the dead of night and when it’s slowly starting to wake up. To be able to greet the light in your living room as it dances across the pictures on your walls and you mill about with your bowl of cereal.

The pictures lined up on your walls remind you of the project that you started last week that you need new photos for. You go to your closet and get the bag that holds your digital camera. Your mind is buzzing at the thought of taking it to the park before it gets too crowded.

You put on a jacket and shoes, pull your camera bag over your shoulder, and head out into the chilly Sunday morning.

********************

You round the corner of your block and start making your way down the steep hill, admiring the multicolored houses across the street that are glowing softly in the morning light. A smile spreads across your face as you reach into your bag for your camera and your fisheye lens. Once you’ve captured a few shots that you’re happy with, you move on toward the park.

You’re coming up on Harry’s building, and you instinctively glance up at the second story bay window that you know belongs to his apartment. Because this side of his building is still in the shade at this point in the day, you can see that his light is on.

“What’s he doing up?” you think to yourself. He’s always been an early riser, but considering how late you both stayed up, you would hope that he had been able to get some extra sleep.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, Harry appears in the window. His blinds are wide open, so you can clearly see him stepping up to his record player and delicately placing the needle on the vinyl. A toothbrush hangs out of his mouth.

What your eyes are more drawn to, however, is his choice of clothing, or lack thereof. He’s standing in front of his window in nothing but a black t-shirt and a pair of underwear. You knew the t-shirt too well as the one he found at a thrift store years ago and became obsessed with after reading the ‘Treat People With Kindness’ logo on the front. He steps back from the record player and tilts his head back to brush his teeth. You watch as his jaw flexes and is accentuated by the light scruff of facial hair along it.

It’s becoming alarmingly clear to you that you are alone in the middle of the sidewalk, about thirty feet away from your best friend’s window, ogling him as he’s minding his own business. As much as your palms are sweating and your stomach is doing somersaults at the prospect of being spotted, you cannot bring yourself to continue walking. You wouldn’t mind becoming a permanent part of the sidewalk if it meant having this kind of view.

Harry turns and walks away from the window. You finally snap out of your daze and hurry past his window, thankful for the help of the downhill slope to move you along. Once you get to the corner of the block, you stop and lean your back against the building. Lightly smacking your forehead, you mutter out loud to yourself, “What the hell was that?”

********************

The trip to the park turned out to be a perfect way to spend the morning. You ended up taking a lot of pictures of murals and flowers before the park started to get too busy.

With your favorite album playing through your headphones, your mind is now buzzing with the excitement of having new photos to edit.

Once you cross the street, you’re now standing on the corner of your block. One way would lead you once again past the window to Harry’s apartment. The other way would help you avoid another potentially awkward sighting, but was much longer and usually includes lines for overcrowded restaurants.

Keeping your head down, you continue walking straight ahead in the same direction that you came from.

As you’re hiking up the hill, you suddenly hear a voice that you know is not coming through your headphones. You turn your volume down and listen to your surroundings. Plain as day, someone behind you shouts your name. You rip your headphones out and whip around to see Harry waving at you from his window.

“Hey! You wanna come up for breakfast?”

Your feet are firmly planted to the sidewalk, much like they were about an hour ago when you stood in the same spot and ogled this man.

You opened your mouth, not knowing what to say, and pathetically jabbed your thumb in the general direction of your apartment. “Actually I… I-I was gonna-”

“I’ve got coffee from Trieste,” he says in a sing-song tone.

You internally roll your eyes and curse him for knowing that you can never deny coffee from your favorite place in town. Plus, wracking your brain for a good excuse to be on your way is becoming difficult due to the hunger pains starting up in your stomach. That bowl of cereal is only holding you over for so long.

You look up at his dimpled face and relax your shoulders, “Okay, yeah. Yeah I’ll come up.”

“I’ll unlock the door for you!” is the last thing you hear before he shuts his window and you make your way to the stairs.

You climb up to the second story and turn down his hallway. When you’re standing in front of his door, you can hear music playing.

You open the door and you’re met with the sounds of trumpets. Harry has Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer” playing on his record player. He has it just loud enough to where it won’t annoy any of his neighbors, but it still fills every corner of the living room. It’s not the first time you’ve walked into a similar scene here. You know this to be one of his favorite songs to play in the morning.

You close the door behind you and take in the state of the room as you walk through. The instrument cases are a little more organized than they had been yesterday. Smaller ones are stacked up next to his workstation and the larger ones are stacked up in the corner next to his couch. His laptop sits open on the coffee table and a haphazard stack of blank paper repair tags sat next to it.

The camera bag on your shoulder is now starting to feel heavy, so you plop down on the couch. Your ears perk up at the sound of Harry singing along with the record from the kitchen.

“You can have an aeroplane flyin’. If you bring your blue sky back.”

Following the smell of coffee, you walk over to the doorway of the small kitchen. Harry is standing at the counter. Thankfully he is not wearing the outfit that you saw him in earlier. He’s wearing brown trousers and a cream colored flannel with black and green stripes. He also has on his signature pair of scuffed up black vans.

There is a small table and two chairs in the corner of the kitchen next to the window with a vase of sunflowers and a couple of books sitting on it. You walk over to the table to inspect the books more closely. Art as Therapy by Alain de Botton & John Armstrong and The Course of Love, also by Alain de Botton. Before you get the chance to flip them over and read the descriptions, Harry clears his throat.

“Coffee’s ready.” He sets the kettle down on the counter and dances his way over to the cupboard where he keeps his mugs.

You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face, admiring his ability to always be so energetic in the mornings.

He takes the filter out of the chemex and chunks it in the trash before pouring the coffee into two mugs. The way he turns with a mug in each hand, extending one to you, is extremely reminiscent of last night. After you take the mug from his hands, he scoots past you into the living room. The volume of the music lowers to a faint background noise before he appears again in the kitchen.

“So,” he pauses to reach into the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs and setting it on the counter, “what are you doing up so early? Figured you’d be in bed till noon. Seemed pretty exhausted last night.” He takes a long sip of coffee, waiting for your response.

Suddenly you’re doing everything to not look in his direction. Your eyes are shifting from the table to the flowers to the mug in your hands.

“Um… yeah I woke up at like 5:30 for some reason and couldn’t go back to sleep. So I just decided to take a walk with my camera.” Your last few words echo from your mug before you take a big sip.

Harry clicks his tongue. “M’ sorry, that sucks. Did you at least see anything interesting?”

You involuntarily gasp at his question, causing the coffee to go directly down the wrong pipe. Several harsh coughs erupt from your chest.

Harry acts quickly, muttering a quick “shit” before taking the cup from your hand and setting it on the table along with his. He steps behind you and you hear a chair scoot out from the table. His hands gently wrap around your upper arms, prompting you to have a seat. You fold over in the chair, gripping the edge of the table for stability. After a few more strong coughs, you’re finally able to catch your breath.

Harry’s fingertips rubbing soothing circles on your back sends electricity up and down your spine.

His hand slides off of your back as he steps away from you, “Alright? Want some water?” He’s already walking over to his cabinet and pulling out a glass before you respond.

Once you clear your throat, you croak out, “Yeah I’m fine, that’s fine.”

He sets the glass on the table in front of you, turns back to the carton of eggs on the counter and starts cracking some into a pan.

After taking some sips of your water, you say, “So I was going to ask you the same question. What are you doing up so early?”

“Well, funny enough, I also had to wake up around 5:30. I’ve got a client coming to pick up her trumpet this morning and I had to get everything sorted and clean up a bit before she got here.”

Nodding your head, you tease, “Oh yeah, it looks really good in there. Was starting to forget what your floor looked like.”

Your heart leaps at the sound of Harry’s belly laugh. “Wow. Wowwwwww. Already giving me a hard time. At this hour. Jesus.”

You laugh at his exaggerated reaction while he simply shakes his head.

There’s a knock at the front door. Harry reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Must be her, actually. I’ll be right back.”

“Do you want me to do those?” You stand up from your spot at the table and gesture to the pan.

“Sure, that’d be great, thanks,” he says over his shoulder when he exits the kitchen.

A moment later, you hear the sound of a woman’s voice greeting Harry. It sounds like they’re just standing in his entryway because you can’t really make out what either of them are saying.

Meanwhile, you go about scrambling eggs, making toast, and getting out plates and silverware. By the time Harry is back in the kitchen, you’re already starting to put everything on the table.

You pick up the books from the table and hold them up to Harry, “Where do you want these?”

“Oh uh, I’ll just put those on the coffee table.” When you hand them off to him, he holds up the copy of Art as Therapy. “This one’s for you though, make sure you take it with you today.”

You tilt your head in question.

“Just thought it looked like something you would enjoy. Saw it when I was looking for this other one.” He holds up The Course of Love.

Before you could say anything, he’s disappeared again into the living room.

Once you’re both sitting at the table and digging into your breakfast, Harry asks, “What are you doing tonight?”

You squint your eyes at him. “I mean, I don’t really have anything planned. Why do you ask?”

“Well that client that was just here offered me two free tickets to her jazz band’s show tonight as, like, an extra ‘thank you’.” He shrugs, “Might be fun to go to.”

With a straight face, you reply, “I can’t, I’m booked tonight.”

You stare at each other for a minute in silence trying not to crack a smile, until you both start snorting.

“I know you’re free because the bar is closed and Sarah is still sick.” Harry tosses his fork on his plate and leans back in his chair like he’s just won an argument.

You mirror him by crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. “What if I have plans with Mitch? Sarah’s boyfriend?”

Harry furrows his brows and looks at you, baffled, “I know who Mitch is, why’d you have to say it like that?”

“Because I knew it would throw you off.”

“Alright, I’ll just take Mitch to the concert then.”

You drop your jaw and lightly kick his leg under the table. “What time is this concert?” You ask, slipping out of your teasing tone.

“It’s at seven.” Harry leans forward and lifts his coffee from the table, holding it up to you.

You grab yours from the table and clink it with his before finishing off the remainder of your coffee.

***********************

Back at your apartment, you’re leaning back in your chair at the desk in your living room, waiting for your pictures from today to upload on your computer. Your hands run over the smooth blue and green cover of Art as Therapy. In the few years that you have known Harry, you’ve swapped countless book recommendations back and forth, and the bookshelves in your apartments are constantly changing due to all of the borrowing you both do. You’ve even gotten each other books for birthdays and other holidays. This is the first book that he has bought for you completely unprompted. You hadn’t even heard of the author until today, so it’s not like he heard you mention in passing wanting to read his books.

You flip the book over and read the description, then flip to the first few pages to see a statement about the authors. “Their proposal is that certain great works of art offer clues on managing the tensions and confusions of everyday life and that, approached in the right way, art can help us answer both the intimate and the everyday questions we all ask ourselves.”

Quickly shaking yourself out of your own thoughts, you check the progress on your photos. Approximately 20 minutes remaining.

You huff, slap the book closed, and toss it on the desk before getting up and walking to your room. There’s an old shoe box on one of your shelves that you like to go through when you’re feeling sad or having a weird day, which feels about right at this moment.

You plop down on your bed and set the box in front of you, opening up the lid. The rush of nostalgia and warmth that comes over you when going through this box is overwhelming sometimes. It’s filled with miscellaneous photos that you’ve taken on your film camera over the past few years. There are some that capture your favorite buildings and murals throughout the city. There are a lot from when you went to the pride celebrations last year. The majority of the pictures in the box capture candid moments of your friends and family. These kinds of pictures are the ones that remind you of why you love photography so much and even after getting high marks on your work for the institute, these are the ones that you end up feeling the most proud of.

You see your friends from out of state standing in front of the Golden Gate Bridge from the time they paid you a surprise visit. Another one shows your cousin at his college graduation. There’s one of your friend and coworker, Sarah, and her boyfriend Mitch from the day you and Harry helped them move into their new apartment, proudly holding up the keys, smiling from ear to ear.

And then there’s quite a lot of Harry. Harry playing pool at a bar across town, Harry at the beach tossing a football with Mitch, a kind of blurry one of him going crazy at an Ariana Grande concert. You laugh out loud when you find the one of him proudly wearing your dress during a drunken game of truth or dare, and the one of him making a ‘kissy’ face at you in those obnoxious Gucci sunglasses that he wore for pretty much an entire summer. Sometimes you don’t realize how much you’ve experienced together until you go back and look at these pictures.

You’ve been flipping through them pretty quickly, but you come across one that makes you freeze. It’s from your friend’s birthday party a few months ago. You got someone to take a picture of yourself with Sarah and Mitch, but Harry decided to jump in. In the picture, Mitch is in the middle of you and Sarah, arms slung around each other’s shoulders, and Harry has his arms hugged tight around your middle and his cheek is pressed to yours. It could be seen as a form of affection, if his face wasn’t covered in icing from your friend’s birthday cake. The photo is perfectly timed to capture everyone’s shocked laughter.

Just by looking at this photo again, you can feel his smile against your cheek and his arms holding you close. It’s a feeling you’ve been wanting more of ever since that night. Maybe that’s the ‘intimate question’ you’ve been asking yourself- Do you really want more with Harry?

**April 26th, 2020. 6:58pm**

You’re sure nobody on the street could miss you and Harry. After saying quick ‘thank you’s to the uber driver, you grab hands and start jogging toward the entrance of the SFJAZZ Center- a three story building with windows wrapping all the way around. The show is supposed to start in two minutes. You would have arrived much earlier if Harry hadn’t left the tickets on his kitchen table. You’re both dodging and weaving through people on the sidewalk, you in your favorite floral dress and Harry in a bold green suit jacket.

Once in the lobby, you both reduce your pace to a brisk walk and you readjust the bag on your shoulder. Harry’s hand is still holding yours as you’re both scanning the lobby for the right place to go. You spot a couple of employees closing doors labeled ‘main hall seating’.

“Over here,” you say, pulling Harry along with you.

Luckily, you’re able to catch the ushers in time to show them your tickets and be let in. The expansive auditorium is filled with the sound of chattering people and musicians warming up their instruments.

Thankfully, your seats are in a row toward the back and to the left of the stage, so you don’t have to make too big of a scene when scooting past people. Right when you settle in, the house lights dim, the chatter rapidly dies down, and the band on the stage goes silent.

The lull is soon replaced with applause when a woman walks out and stands center stage. She introduces herself as the director of programming and welcomes the audience. “Thank you all for being here tonight. Your support means so much to this center as we continue to make music and art and do what we love to do.” She pauses to hold up a booklet in her hands. “As you may have seen in your program, tonight’s performance is a special one.”

For the first time, you glance around the room and notice almost everyone but you and Harry has a program in their lap or held in their hands.

The woman on stage continues. “Some of you may know this, and some of you may not, but April is the birth month of American jazz singer, Billie Holiday. So, to honor her legacy, this lovely band sitting behind me has put together arrangements of some of her greatest hits.” Applause fills the room once again.

“Some of the performances tonight will feature vocalists and some will be done with the band only, so I hope everyone will find something they enjoy. Now, without further ado, I present to you A Little Love, with Billie Holiday.”

There is applause for a third time, but your hands are suddenly too heavy in your lap to join in. As the director exits the stage and another woman, presumably the vocalist, takes her place, your mind is reeling at the situation you’re currently in. How have you wound up at a jazz concert dedicated to love, that you decided to attend on a whim, with your best friend that you suddenly have overwhelming feelings for?

All of the subtle signs and notions of feelings you have had over the years have turned into blaring alarms, and they’re all pointing to one person. The man sitting right next to you, who is also sitting stock still in his seat.

There’s a drumroll from the stage followed by a light and smooth saxophone solo that brings you back into the moment. The vocalist begins the captivating first verse of Billie Holiday’s You Go to My Head.

You go to my head

And you linger like a haunting refrain

And I find you spinning round in my brain

Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne

You slowly sink about three inches down into your seat. You wish you had a program now so that you could at least use it to fan your face. You reach your hand up to dab at your forehead.

At the same time Harry takes a deep breath and lightly trills his lips while itching the bridge of his nose.

The vocalist continues to sing the lyrics that are hitting you directly in the gut.

The thrill of the thought

That you might give a thought to my plea

Casts a spell over me

Still I say to myself “Get a hold of yourself”

Can’t you see that it never can be

You glance around the auditorium as much as you can without turning your head in Harry’s direction, wondering if anyone else is feeling the temperature rise or the tension that seems to be wrapped around the both of you.

You go to my head

With a smile that makes my temperature rise

Like a summer with a thousand Julys

You intoxicate my soul with your eyes

Though I’m certain that this heart of mine

Hasn’t the ghost of a chance in this crazy romance

You go to my head

Your mind is reeling yet again at the situation you’re in. This must be some kind of elaborate prank that the universe is pulling on you. You’re half expecting a spotlight to fall on you and Harry that nobody in the room would even question.

The feeling doesn’t lift as the concert goes on. Soulful songs about a lover’s eyes, falling in love, how easy it is to live when you’re in love. Even where there is not a vocalist, you seem to know what the songs are implying.

Something that comes up in your rapid stream of thoughts is the author’s note you read earlier, “approached in the right way, art can help us answer both the intimate and the everyday questions we all ask ourselves.” You ask yourself the question again: Do you want more with Harry?

You think about the pictures of the times you’ve spent together. Crazy shifts at the bar, days in the park, breakfasts, dinners, late nights staying up talking about god knows what. You know the answer. You’ve always known the answer.

It seems like your heart has caught up with your thoughts, because it’s pounding in your chest.

Halfway through the final song of the night, you decide to steal a glance at Harry. Slowly turning your head, you peek through the corner of your eye.

A quick jolt of electricity runs through your entire body when you see that Harry already has his eyes on you. You turn your head back to the stage, but you can still feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head.

When thunderous applause breaks out after the final song, Harry turns his head back to the stage as you both limply clap along with the audience.

******************

This is the most quiet car ride of your life. There isn’t even any music being played in the background. The only words that have been exchanged between you and Harry since the concert ended were when he asked you if it was okay for the uber to just drop you both at your building and you answered with a simple ‘sure’.

There are so many feelings swirling around in you that you don’t know what to do with, and you definitely don’t want all of them to spill out in this stranger’s car, so you keep your jaw clenched as you look out of the window.

The car comes to a stop outside of your building and you both mutter ‘thank you’s as you climb out. You both silently make your way through the lobby, up the stairs, and down the hallway to your door.

Just last night you were making the same trip. You were making light jokes about wanting to steal Harry’s jacket and he was joking back, accusing you of wanting him to freeze to death. You had to remind each other not to laugh so loud so you wouldn’t disturb anyone. Now the only sound in the hallway is your shoes on the floor.

Once you reach your door, you open your bag and start digging for your keys. “Thanks, um, thanks for inviting me. It was a really good show.” You find your keys and push them into the lock before turning your eyes to Harry.

He has one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… Yeah it was... it was fun. Glad you could come with me.” He moves his hands from their places and awkwardly moves his arms out for a hug.

You smile and let out a sharp exhale through your nose at the awkwardness of this whole situation, but you gladly reciprocate the hug. Your arms completely wrap around each other, your hands tightly gripping his jacket. You can smell his cologne, like ginger and honey and cedar, and it’s making your head spin. You embrace for a few seconds and then release each other.

Harry sighs, “Alright, I’ll see you later then.”

“Okay, see you later.”

Harry shoves his hands in his pockets and slowly takes a few steps to turn away.

You turn the key in the lock, then turn your head to watch Harry take his first few steps away from you. You don’t want him to get any further.

“Harry?”

He stops and turns around to face you. “Yeah?”

You cannot believe the question that’s coming to your mind, but it’s the only thing that’s been coherent enough to put into words. You gulp and take a deep breath before asking, “Do you… do you still wish you could kiss me?”

You watch about three different emotions pass across Harry’s face. His mouth opens, his head tilts to the side, then his mouth closes and his eyes shift to the floor.

You feel a flood of regret. He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember. That was stupid. He doesn’t remember. Just play it off.

You know your face is flushed with embarrassment as you speak softly, “I’m sorry. I just. That night that you were really drunk and I brought you back here, you said that you wish- that you wished y-”

Hearing Harry say your name stops your rambling. “Don’t be sorry. I know what I said.” He’s eyeing you cautiously and taking a couple of steps toward you again. “And… yeah. I still wish I could kiss you. Felt that way for… a while now.”

Tears are brimming your eyes as you look into his, trying to absorb what he’s just said. Then it’s almost like the floor beneath you tilts in his direction, nudging you to move forward until you’re standing directly in front of him. You can smell his cologne again.

With your eyes still locked into his, you slowly raise your hands to place them on the back of his neck, thumbs stroking the corners of his jaw.

After taking a shaky breath, you whisper, “I wish I could kiss you, too.”

Harry gulps and shifts his eyes down to your lips. He takes a deep breath through his nose before you feel his hand lightly grip your waist and his other hand takes a similar position on your neck.

You both stand there for a few breaths, eyes roaming over each other’s faces.

You start to lean in and then stop about half way and close your eyes. You’re both just waiting to see who will close the gap.

After a moment, you feel Harry’s grip on your neck and waist tighten and you feel him leaning in. Then his lips are on yours. They’re on yours again and again. You tilt your heads to deepen the kisses and he takes a step toward you. You follow his lead until your back is pressed against your door.

As much as it pains you to do so, you have to stop so you can catch your breath. You reach one of your hands into his hair and lightly pull him away. Both of you are breathing in sync.

Once your breathing is evened out, you lock eyes with Harry. Your heart flutters when you exchange shy but knowing smiles and his thumb gently strokes your cheek.

After clearing your throat, you move your hand to your door knob. “Do you want to come in?”

Harry glances at your hand then returns his eyes to yours. He purses his lips and takes a sharp breath in. “I just want to know what you want.”

What just happened a few seconds ago already seems monumental to you. After the emotional roller coaster of this day, you’re not sure whether or not you’re ready for more tonight.

You take your hand from the doorknob and run it along his shoulder to return it to its previous position on his neck. “Honestly, I’m so fucking exhausted from today.” You watch as Harry nods his head in understanding. “I think all I want tonight is to hold you,” you notice the softness in his eyes, the same softness that you noticed for a fleeting second in the bar last night. “And keep kissing you.” This makes a lopsided smirk pop onto his face. “And I want to talk in the morning. About us.”

Harry leans in and presses a sweet peck to your lips. “I think we can do that.”

*******************

If anyone would have told you that your day was going to end with you and Harry in your bed, your head on his chest, and him running his fingers soothingly over your back, you wouldn’t have believed them.

“Harry?” you say softly, just as your eyelids are starting to get heavy.

His fingers stop for a moment, “Yeah?”

Thinking over the sequence of events that led you to where you are now, you start to erupt into sleepy giggles. “Did you know that the performance was gonna be,” you pause, trying to find the right word, “that?”

Harry lets out a deep belly laugh and when you glance up at him, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. “I couldn’t have planned that if I tried.”

Before you know it, you’re both laughing uncontrollably, recounting the insane timing of the whole situation.

Harry rolls to his side so that he’s facing you and places a lingering kiss on your lips. “I’ll have to tell that client that any repairs she wants are on the house now.”

You throw your head back laughing and he pulls you into his chest, smothering your neck with kisses before resting his chin on top of your head.

If this is all you could have for the rest of your life, just a little love from each other, you would never want anything more.

************************************************************

thank you so much for reading!!

if you enjoyed this fic, please remember that reblogs and/or nice messages mean the world to fic writers. <3

you can find my masterlist here and my inbox here

& make sure to check out the other amazing fics on the pypfc masterlist

#pypfc #writing #a little love #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles reader insert #harry styles fluff #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles au #alcohol tw

619 notes · View notes

minimitchell · 4 years

Text

callumhighwayweek day 5 - “Did you know you talk in your sleep?” (ao3 link)

Apparently, it’s a thing with Callum.

He didn’t know about it at first, Callum didn’t care to mention it when they first started seeing one another, and it took quite a while for Ben to understand what’s going on.

The first time it happened was a couple of weeks into their budding relationship. They had spent the night in a club away from Walford, away from the gossip and curious eyes still following them around sometimes, drinking and dancing and just having a good time with no one but each other on their mind.

They had come back to a dark and quiet flat, Callum’s bedroom bathed in navy blues and blacks. It hadn’t been the first time they stayed in one another’s bed, not by far, but Ben felt this pressure that night, invisible and taught between them.

A pressure to reassure Callum he wasn’t expecting anything. He wasn’t asking for anything in return for tonight, or all the other nights before this one. He wants Callum to be comfortable with him, in control of whatever might be happening between them, not feel obligated to do anything he isn’t one hundred percent sure of.

So they put on a movie, Callum falling asleep some time in the middle of it, and Ben tries and fails at not watching the way his chest gently rises and falls with steady breaths. He looks so peaceful like this; face young and carefree, not weighed down by everything that happened in the last couple of weeks, months.

It’s some moments later that the noises start; undistinguishable at first. Just a blend of murmurs and words mixing together into a potpourri of sounds. Until the mumbling becomes more coherent, giving way to actual words. Ben can’t follow him at first; can’t make sense of whatever he’s saying or if he’s even saying anything that makes a modicum of sense at all.

They become clearer after that.

Clear enough for Ben to get a gist of what the man next to him is dreaming about. They make him swallow and crease his forehead, fingers tightening in the duvet they’re safely surrounded by.

There’s worry there in Callum’s sleep-slurred words. Fractions of a story Ben pieces together in the minutes they fall from Callum’s mouth subconsciously. They leave him unsettled yet hopeful. And he will never know the full picture, the full extent of them should Callum decide not to share this dream with him but again, he understands the most important thing - Callum is dreaming about them.

Ben asks him about it the next morning, over coffee and scrambled eggs; the ‘did you know you talk in your sleep?’ falling from his lips in a careful tonality, careful not to disturb the delicate balance they’ve found themselves in for the last few weeks, where he tries his best not to remind Callum that he doesn’t think he’s worthy of all this, that he still thinks he’s sullying Callum’s skin, hell his entire soul, with every touch.

Embarrassment colors Callum’s face; a red tint settling over his cheeks and the top of his ears. It happens sometimes, he admits, when he’s had too much to drink or there’s something bothering him. And he’s honest when Ben asks about the reason it happened last night.

Callum tells him, with an unsure but steady voice, about his fears of him not being enough for Ben; about how he wants them to take the next step but he’s rendered motionless every time he thinks about it; inexperience clawing at his insides and poisoning his thoughts.

Ben can’t do much apart from reassuring him he doesn’t care about what Callum hasn’t done; just like he doesn’t care what Ben has done.

They talk it out. They work through their issues, word by word and line by line. And when the time comes for them to take that next step a few nights later, there’s no place for hesitancy or doubts left in the space between their bodies.

It doesn’t happen often; seldom, really.

A few times in their first year together: the night when they get back together, after Callum’s ordeal in the warehouse, fueled by a rare night of too many drinks in the Vic.

It happens once more after that. And then not for a very long time.

It soothes something deep in Ben’s soul, because it means Callum doesn’t let things fester anymore; doesn’t insist on working things through on his own but entrusts Ben with his feelings and worries; trusts that they can work through everything together now.

Ben reckons it means he’s doing something right as a husband.

Which is why it completely throws him when the sleep talking starts again, seemingly out of the blue.

They’re lying on the couch that night, Callum’s head pillowed on his chest and his arm slung across Ben’s middle, his own hand tangled in Callum’s brown hair, caressing it in soothing motions. Ben didn’t notice him falling asleep and at first he thinks he’s talking normally to him or maybe commenting on the movie playing idly in the background, starting a conversation with albeit random words or noises.

He isn’t used to it anymore, the sleep talking, thought they had grown out of it at the same pace their relationship had grown and prospered, flourished into something strong and never-ending.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Just like the first time it happened, it doesn’t become clear right away. Shreds of sentences and words without context fill the room and Ben mutes the TV to wait in charged silence for the incoherent noises to turn into actual sentences.

He’s on edge, for the first time in forever.

Because the last time-

The last time Callum talked in his sleep was years ago, back when he was blackmailed by a corrupt cop into making an impossible choice. Back when he felt like he couldn’t trust Ben with the truth, like being honest is somehow going to make their love implode.

Through everything they’ve been through after that, anything thrown into their or their family’s way, they’ve stood together as a unit. Unbreakable, unrelenting.

His heart beats faster just thinking about what this means now; about what’s making Callum worry like this. They are good. Ben is the happiest he’s ever been in his entire life. He assumed Callum was as well.

Maybe not.

Ben listens. He lets the syllables stretch and twist, contorting to form something to make sense of, rearranging until it all becomes clear.

A gasp leaves his mouth when it does. The words are clear now, falling in a steady yet unconnected stream from Callum’s lips and hanging in the air around Ben. They set his heart into overdrive, drumming away in the cavity of his chest and filling his body with an uncoordinated rhythm.

If what Callum is whispering about is real - is his honest wish - then they need to talk about it.

Ben needs to let him know about this.

It takes a couple of days for him to bring it up to Callum, needing space and time to gather his thoughts and form an opinion on this himself. He isn’t sure if the sleep talking continued in the days leading up to this; he made sure he was asleep before Callum every night. He didn’t want to risk hearing his husband bare his wishes to him in his sleep again, have the melody of his voice sweeten the words and make decisions for him.

But he’s sure now.

Callum has never been good at hiding away from Ben. It’s what their whole relationship is based on after all - the inability to disguise their true selves from one another.

And now that Ben knows about it, it’s painfully obvious. It’s there in every interaction Callum has with Whitney’s baby girl, in every microscopic grimace when Kathy makes a dig about more grandchildren, in every lingering kiss he presses into Lexi’s hair. Maybe it has always been there, simmering under the surface, making way for more pressing, more important, matters.

But now that they’re settled - with a home and work and family and friends - it’s breaking through again, clamoring for attention within Ben’s husband.

He’s ready now, sure of it for the first time in his life, to give it said attention. To treat this like it should be treated - with care and dedication.

And love.

They’re having dinner together, something Callum just threw together out of leftovers but is easily a four star meal to Ben, and he can’t keep it in any longer. It’s been threatening to come spluttering out of him ever since Callum came home from work earlier today, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand; ‘just because’, he had said.

He looks up into Callum’s eyes, blue meeting blue, gazing back at him already and in a tiny speck of time, a millisecond of an eternally long day, he blurts it out, fueled by Callum talking in his sleep but decision made solely from the love always present on Callum’s face.

“Do you want to have a baby?”

#chweek2021 #callumhighwayweek2021 #ballum fic #my writing #i have no idea what this is or if i like it so uh enjoy? maybe

24 notes · View notes

sevenkittensinatrenchcoat · 3 years

Text

Saw My Mutuals Doing a Hunger Games

So, I also messed around with the Hunger Games Simulator. I called it Macavity’s Jellicle Choice. Macavity managed to defeat Old Deuteronomy and decided that the next cat to ascend to the Heaviside Layer as to survive a Hunger Games. 23 cats just die. The 24th gets reborn.

I am so terrible with the simulator that I didn’t even have images for the characters, so I didn’t take many screenshots. Instead, I took notes of what happened.

We’ll begin at the end:

This is the only screenshot you’re getting. All of the nicknames I used are very stupid.

Here are the notes I took as I played this thing:

Content Warning: It’s a Hunger Games. Violence and Death. Also featuring my dark sense of humor.

Bloodbath

Pouncival and Plato fought over a bag, but Pouncival was too small to win that fight and ran away.

Tantomile Inventory: Shield x1

Jellylorum managed to scare Tugger away from the Cornucopia. Nobody was surprised by this.

Victoria Inventory: Bombs x5

Bombalurina Inventory: Shield x1

Munkustrap has made the Cornucopia into his base.

Rumpleteazer, Asparagus, and Grizabella got into a fight. I assume it must’ve been some sort of Emotional Ballad Competition, because Grizabella was victorious.

Etcetera Inventory: Canteen x1

Mungojerrie is hiding in the Cornucopia. Munkustrap knows this and is allowing it.

Day 1:

After all that “excitement” (The Bloodbath wasn’t that bloody tbh), there’s still much to be done.

George and Coricopat got into a fight, but it was just practice and they’re fine. George won, btw.

Pouncival has already managed to hurt himself will foraging for food.

Jemima Inventory: Hatchet x1 (The baby has plenty of sponsors, I assume.)

Bombalurina caught some fish, but that’s not that exciting.

Grizabella murdered Alonzo with a trident. I’m starting to become concerned by how good she is at killing people.

Tantomile just fell in a lake and drowned. Quite the anticlimax.

Allience! Electra, Cassandra, and Mistoffelees are on the prowl!

Tumblebrutus managed to scare Tugger into running away. I think “run away” is Tugger’s strategy at this point.

Munkustrap Inventory: Nameless Fruit x3

Jellylorum Inventory: Spear x1 (She made it herself. All those years of teaching kids crafts have paid off.)

Victoria beat Mungojerrie in a fight, but let him go because this was either a practice round or the announcer for the family-friendly TV station that airs The Hunger Games just claimed they were “fighting” in the bushes.

Etcetera Inventory: Canteen x1, Food Item x1 (Thank you, sponsor! …Okay, it was me.)

Mass Funeral 1:

RIP Rumpleteazer. (Lean Lynx) Her ballad wasn’t angst enough.

RIP Asparagus. (No Fuss 2 Pronounce) He just wanted to play Growltiger.

RIP Alonzo. (True Himbo) That was kind of pathetic.

RIP Tantomile. (She Psych) Your death was so boring.

Night 1:

Serial Killer Grizabella got Electra.

Plato became Enemy Number 1 for some unknown reason and he was hunted down by Coricopat, Tumblebrutus, Tugger, Jenny, and Munkustrap.

Remember how Pouncival injured himself? He got pricked with tiny thorns and bled out a few hours later.

Etcetera just screamed for help AND IF SOMEONE DOESN’T HELP HER I SWEAR TO GOD-

Some strange archery accident involved Victoria, Skimble, and Cassandra occurred. Cassandra’s dead now.

Jellylorum isn’t dead, but she’s unconscious, so someone should really look into that.

Misto and Jemima are snuggling!

Bombalurina stabbed George and left him to die. A bit harsh.

Demeter and Mungojerrie have been spotted holding hands. These two Macavity survivors have turned to each other for emotional support.

Day 2:

Allience! Jerrie, Victoria, Coricopat, Misto, and Munkustrap are on the prowl!

Serial Killer Grizabella is stalking Jemima! Luckily, she hasn’t got a chance to kill her.

Skimble stabbed Tugger.

Etcetera has found her mom. Jellylorum has kept her safe for the day.

Demeter Inventory: First Aid Kit x1 (From a sponsor)

Jennyanydots Inventory: First Aid Kit x1 (From a sponsor, cleverly giving medical supplies to someone who might be able to help everyone. Hopefully, no more kittens will end up like Pouncival.)

Mass Funeral 2:

RIP Electra (Book and Bell): She didn’t expect Grizabella to go so insane so quickly.

RIP Plato (Not Too Big): He was played by the same actor as Macavity, so maybe the mob got mixed up.

RIP Pouncival (Can Do Handstand): He died from a boo-boo.

RIP Cassandra (Pharaohs’s Girl): I’m still not sure wtf just happened.

RIP George (Could Be Admetus): I almost completely forgot about him, but the audience will remember.

RIP Tugger (Tugs): Skimble took their rivalry too far.

So, that was a massacre…

Night 2:

Coricopat just randomly died from thirst. Remember that Tantomile drowned. One twin died from too little water, and the other from too much.

Victoria is having nightmares. Just thought you should know.

Jerrie, Skimble, Grizabella, and Demeter have set up camp together. After everything that’s happened, sharing a camp with Grizabella sounds like a terrible idea, but everyone’s under a lost of stress and not thinking clearly.

Misto has built a shelter and Jenny is allowed inside. Good choice of ally.

Jemima tried to sing herself to sleep. Poor baby…

Munk killed Jelly with a poison dart. It was quite brutal. I don’t think he meant it that way, but the game only ends after most of them are dead.

Bombalurina has begun to question her sanity. I think this question applies to nearly everyone.

Etcetera, after possibly witnessing Munk kill Jelly, appears to have snapped. She hacked Tumblebrutus to pieces with a weapon that I didn’t even know she had.

Day 3:

Stalking Jemima was a bad choice. Serial Killer Grizabella now as a sprained ankle.

Allience! Victoria, Jenny, Misto, and Jerrie are on the prowl!

Munk died from thirst, and possibly from guilt.

Bomba and Skimble are friends for today.

Etcetera Inventory: Food Item x1 (Sponsor. I had to do something)

Mass Funeral 3:

RIP Coricopat (He Psych): His death matched up with his twin’s.

RIP Jellylorum (Bitches Be Jelly): That was really fucked up.

RIP Tumblebrutus (Fliptastic): He was probably in the wrong place at the wrong time.

RIP Munkustrap (Fearless Leader): At the end of the day, he couldn’t kill his family.

Night 3:

Etcetera is gazing at the stars, looking for a Dead Parent-Shaped Constellation.

Victoria managed to defeat Serial Killer Grizabella, but she let her go.

Jerrie and Jemima are snuggling! I think he might’ve adopted her. Normally, that would be Skimble’s job, but…

Demeter found those poison darts Munk was using and killed Skimble with one of them.

Meanwhile, because everyone’s parents are dying tonight, Misto shot Jenny. I think he might’ve planned it. The Hunger Games brings out the worst in everybody, sooner or later.

Feast!

Smart Cats Who Stayed the Fuck Out of It: Mistoffelees and Demeter

Bomba just grabbed some food and ran for it, so she’s also pretty smart.

Etcetera’s nervous breakdown continues. She killed Victoria in an ambush, not caring who she was killing at this point.

Serial Killer Grizabella managed to behave when she ran into Jerrie and Jemima. They grabbed their stuff and left.

Day 4:

Misto is ready to die, but Jemima won’t kill him and Jerrie went out to hunt, so he’s not there to do it for her.

Grizabella died of dysentery. This isn’t even a joke.

EVENT: Tsunami (Later to be Dubbed “The Tsunami of Tears”)

Survivors: Mistoffelees, Mungojerrie, and Demeter

Little Etcetera got swept away. Bomba and Jemima both sort of crashed into each other, leaving them stunned for long enough to drown.

We just lost all of our kittens :,(

Mass Funeral 4:

RIP Jennyanydots (Mouse Mother): Misto betrayed her, but she probably didn’t mind.

RIP Skimbleshanks (Railway Cat): I’d like to propose a ban on poison darts.

RIP Victoria (Little White Cat): Another kitten in the wrong place at the wrong time.

RIP Grizabella (Cat Who Sings Memory): She died of dysentery.

RIP Etcetera (Little Tiger Cub): *wails*

RIP Bombalurina (Whittington’s Friend): She played very pragmatically, but lost from last-minute bad luck.

RIP Jemima (Sillababy): *wails louder*

Night 4:

After all the bullshit they’ve been through, the three survivors just decide to duel each other to the death now. Misto defeats Jerrie and Demeter. None of them were trying very hard.

Anyway, Mistoffelees won. I didn’t rig this so my favorite would win. I don’t know how one rigs a Hunger Games Simulator. I would’ve preferred to save a kitten.

If it isn’t obvious by now:

Mean Minx: Mungojerrie

Leading Lady: Demeter

Pied Piper’s Assistant: Mistoffelees

So, that’s what I did on this fine Tuesday morning.

Hunger Games Idea Inspired by: @fluffytuffles and @0zzysaurus

I didn’t use the same template, but I wouldn’t have thought to do the thing if my mutuals didn’t start it.

As for the backstory I set up before hand, Mistoffelees magically kicked Macavity’s ass and rescued Old Deuteronomy. They figured out that it was all a magical nightmare Macavity had sent to torment the tribe. Misto’s magic allowed him to fight the nightmare for the longest. Demeter and Jerrie and also built up some Macavity resistance over time. Everyone who came close to winning had slightly higher Macavity resistance for one reason or another.

Anyway, they all woke up from the nightmare and everyone was actually fine.

The End

#cats 1998 #too many characters to tag #jellicle hunger games #this was so depressing that i added a happy ending #it was all a dream #just a dream

13 notes · View notes

sunshinejihyun · 4 years

Text

Green Apples || Kiro

Author’s note: Look, this was supposed to be a cute simple Halloween fic but it turned into something much more. I’m not even mad about it though. Um this isn’t edited so if you see any mistakes, no you didn’t.

Summary: A stolen night with a masked stranger on Halloween leads to something more when you find out who’s behind that mask.

Warnings: some drinking

Word count: 5011

Masterlist

After filming had ended for the day, Kiki and Willow had grabbed your arm and pulled you out of your office and back to your apartment, ignoring your protests. “Guys, I still have work to get done!”

“Not on Halloween you don’t! It’s the first year my kids are old enough to be on their own and I’m partying. I need you guys there as my wing-women!” Anna reached into her leather top and pulled her bosom up, smiling at herself in the mirror before fluffing her hair. She was dressed as Catwoman, the leather and latex that was sticking to every single one of her curves made her look younger than she was. If you didn’t know her, you would have guessed her to be mid 20’s, not in her 30’s. “Now hurry up girls, your costumes are on the bed.” Kiki and Willow jumped off your twin bed and assessed the costumes before starting to discuss who would look better in what. Peering over their shoulders, you snuck a peak at the costumes. “I think Willow would look best in the Wonder Woman costume,” you quipped. They both turned around to hear your explanation, eyebrows raised in question. “Kiki and I are both short. Willow’s taller and her legs would look killer in that skirt with those thigh high boots she wore to the company’s Christmas party last year, let’s be honest.”

“Oh my gosh! Boss is right, Willow. You’ve gotta wear that, it’ll look so good!” Kiki pleaded, clasping her hands together and doing her best to pout at her friend.

“Well I can’t argue with my girls, can I?” Willow asked, reaching for the costume and started stripping from her work clothes. “Oh man, guess I won’t be breathing tonight.”

“We don’t need to breathe, we just need to look hot.” Anna turned from your makeup mirror and all three of you gasped at her. The dark smokey eye and bright red lipstick made her look even more pale than normal but the shimmer she had highlighting her cheekbones made her look extraordinary, like she was an ethereal being.

“Anna, you look amazing!” You exclaimed, dropping the costume you had in your hand. “Oh my gosh, I would never be able to tell you have two kids! I won’t be surprised if you leave the party with someone tonight.”

She winked and blew a kiss at you. “That’s the plan babe! Now come on, you guys need to get dressed!”

Glancing at Kiki, you saw her eyeing the Harley Quinn costume so you grasped the green costume. “I think you’ll look really good as Harley, Kiki. Willow and Anna can help do your makeup!”

Kiki took the costume into your small bathroom and you shrugged off your clothes. “Can someone help me zip?”

“Sure babes, come here.” Anna gestured for you to make your way over to where she was perched on your makeup table. Pulling the zipper up on the costume she squealed. “Your butt looks amazing in this costume. Definitely the best choice!”

You shrugged your shoulders, smoothing down the spandex covered with leaves. “I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be!”

“I’m not really sure either, all that matters is that you look hot!” You and Anna giggled and Kiki walked back into the room, twirling around in her costume.

“Kiki, you look amazing! Come here hun, let me do your makeup!” Willow gestured her over and Kiki skipped over puckering her lips obscenely and making Willow sigh out in annoyance. “Never mind, you can do it yourself.” She teased.

Anna wordlessly started to dab a pinky-orange lipstick on your lips and you sat down, letting her get to work. “And…” Anna brushed something on your cheeks, stepped back, and grinned down at her work. “Perfect!”

Turning to look in the mirror, your jaw dropped. The makeup she had done made it so you didn’t even look like yourself. You looked sexy, like someone you’d see in a magazine, or at least on TV.

“Boss! You look amazing!” Kiki yelled out, running over and wrapping her arms around you, careful to not smudge either of your makeup. “We all look amazing. We all better be leaving tonight with a man or woman on our arms or so help me God, I’ll give up on love forever!”

“Don’t be so dramatic!” Willow threw her hair over her shoulder. “Now ladies, are we ready to go?”

Anna handed each of you a mask that would cover your eyes, but not one of the lame plastic ones, these were each individually gorgeous, made to go with your costumes. They were lined lace, gemstones, and colors that complimented the outfits. The masks mixed with everyone's smokey eyes and bright lips really brought every costume together and brought butterflies to your stomach. Despite originally not wanting to go, you actually found yourself looking forward to a night off work with the girls.

The party was already in full swing by the time you and the girls entered the bar. The bass was vibrating the floor and purple lights were flashing in time to the beat of the music. Anna left your side almost immediately, blowing a kiss in your group's direction before setting her sights on who you can only assume was a handsome man in some scrubs and a plague doctor’s mask.

“Well, she wasted no time,” Willow observed, grabbing her beer off the bar and taking a short drink.

Kiki suddenly stopped in her tracks. “I. Love. This. Song!” Each word was enunciated and she tugged on Willow’s arm excitedly. “Come dance with me, Boss can hold our drinks.” Kiki shoved her drink in your hand and dragged Willow away, leaving you alone near the bar, two drinks in your hand but neither of them yours.

Watching them dance from the sideline had you smiling, they were never like this at work and it was wonderful to see both of them having the time of their lives. It almost made you forget that you weren’t out there, but your attention was pulled away from them quickly when someone came and stood by you.

“So many people to kill, so little time, huh?” Your skin prickled when the voice filtered through your ears and you turned to face the man, coming face to face with him. He was so close to you that you could smell sour apple candy on his breath.

“Excuse me?” Your eyebrows raised and you took a step back.

“It’s uh, it’s a line that Poison Ivy says to Batman in one of the Batman and Robin films!” The man exclaimed, reaching under his black mask to scratch an itch on his face. “I thought it’d be a good opener because I’m dressed as Batman and you’re dressed as Poison Ivy. We’re supposed to be nemeses but I don’t think I could fight someone as pretty as you.”

Despite not knowing who was speaking to you, you found your cheeks flushing and you were grateful for the lights in the bar flashing bright colors, it was easier to hide the rouge starting to form. “Sorry,” you laughed and closed the distance between you and your new acquaintance once more. “I’m not actually a fan, my friend picked out the costumes.”

“Which one? Harley Quinn or Wonder Woman?” You wished you could see more of this man’s face that was hidden under a dark mask. He was charming and his piercing eyes felt like they were reaching in your soul and spreading warmth and happiness within.

“Wow, you do pay attention. Neither, my friend dressed as Catwoman picked them out. I think her goal was to find the tightest outfits in the store, and in which case she definitely succeeded.” You took a drink of Willow’s beer, she wasn’t around and it’d probably be gross by the time she came back anyway.

“Of course I paid attention when the most gorgeous woman I’ve seen walked in.”

“That was such a line.” You rolled your eyes, a smile playing on your lips and the guy burst out laughing.

“I know! I can’t believe you thought I was serious. I just wanted to see if you were someone who fell for cheesy lines like that!” His smile was gorgeous and the sound of his laugh stirred up butterflies in your stomach. It’s been forever since you met someone who made you feel like this. “Do you want to dance?” He held out his hand, head tilted towards the dance floor and without thinking too much, you set down the drinks you were holding and grasped his hand.

He pulled you into the middle of the crowd and spun you around before pulling you close, so close that you both were chest to chest, and started moving his hips, your usually uncoordinated body easily following in his lead. “Wow, you’ve got some moves!” The music was louder than it was by the bar and you couldn’t tell if he had actually heard you, but he had a smile settle on his lips.

After dancing to a few songs, he led you back to the bar. “I’m gonna get a water, you want anything?”

Raising your eyebrows in question, you settled on the barstool next to him. “Not drinking tonight?” He shook his head no. “Alright, one water for me too please.”

“Thanks,” the guy told the bartender when he set down the two bottles in front of the both of you. “So,”

“I usually don’t make a habit of dancing with people I don’t even know.” You laughed, gulping down some water. “I don’t know what came over me, it’s like you’re intoxicating.”

“Believe it or not, you’re not the first to say that to me!” The guy leaned in, resting his hand on your thigh. Normally, you’d shy away from a touch like that but after being pressed up against his hard body for the past 7 songs on the dance floor, this touch seemed more innocent than before. “I’ve never connected with someone like this before.”

“Boss!” Kiki came running up, cheeks flushed and dark red lipstick smudged. “Have you heard this song? It’s Kiro! Come with me, we all have to dance!”

You glanced at your current dance partner who rolled his eyes at the mention of Kiro. “Don’t tell me you’re a Kiro fangirl? I’d have to take back what I just said to you.”

“Kiki, I think I’ll sit this one out. You’ll just have to dance even harder with Anna and Willow to make up for it, but I’m sure you can do it!” Turning back to the man who was staring at you, an intense look in his eyes, you smiled. “I personally like Kiro’s music, but I don’t go crazy about him like some people. I honestly think he deserves some privacy to just be him. Everyone expects too much of someone who’s only 22.”

“I never thought of it that way. I just know some people who go crazy for him and… it makes me uncomfortable!” The man held his hand out to you once more. “Do you wanna go outside, get some air?”

You rationally knew that it wasn’t the smartest decision to go out on your own with a man you just met, but looking at him with the charming smile he had only used on you that night, you felt your heart make the decision before your head could catch up. “Absolutely.”

This time when you grabbed his hand, he squeezed it affectionately before interlacing your fingers. Your hand was sweaty and you wanted to pull away to wipe it off but he wouldn’t let you, instead just opting to hold on tighter.

The cold October air on your cheeks soothed you and helped cool your body temperature. Without thinking, you took off your mask and patted down the sweaty area that it was resting on. Turning towards the man, you saw he had stopped in his tracks, mouth slightly open, and was staring. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered, reaching out to brush a piece of your hair behind your ear.

Looking down at your feet, so small compared to him, you fought off a wide grin. “Yeah, sure. I’m sure I look great with makeup running down my face right now.”

“No seriously,” his hand reached under your chin to tilt your eyes to meet his. Although you hardly knew this man, you haven’t seen his full face, and you didn’t even know his name, there was something about him that made you feel so safe. Like being wrapped in a warm hug after being out in the cold for long hours. “To me, you are so beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me.” You whispered, your faces so close to one another. His blue eyes so clear in the night were searching your face, taking in the new features he hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t trust easily, but there’s something about you…” His eyes landed on your lips after glancing at them a few times before. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded and stood on your tiptoes, closing the small gap between the two of you. Despite not seeing him eat a piece of candy since you had met him earlier that night, he still tasted of green apple candy. He cupped your face so tenderly, like if he were to hold you a little too tight, you might break. He pulled back before pecking your lips once more. “Can you tell me who you are?” Your nose was still brushing his as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Promise me it won't change anything about tonight?” He took your hands and guided you to grip the fabric mask that’s been on his face since the moment he met you. “Please,”

“I promise,” his eyes were pleading and you felt yourself wanting to melt into his touch, to do nothing but reassure him that your connection was too strong now to care about who he was or what he looked like. “I can promise you that with my whole heart.” His hands, still covering your own, helped you grasp the mask, pulling it over his head. A shock of blond hair fell out of the dark fabric and when he brushed it out of his eyes, you gasped. “Kiro?”

“Shh,” his hands moved to cover your mouth but you quickly intercepted them and linked both of them with your own. Both of your masks were discarded on the cold ground, but they were forgotten. “No one can know I’m here.” “But-” you cut yourself off, stopping yourself from bombarding him with tons of questions. “I’m just-”

“Shit!” Kiro swore, ducking down to grab his mask off the ground. “That’s my agent. He will kill me if he sees me.” You saw the man Kiro was pointing at and he narrowed his eyes at the pair of you before starting to make his way over to the both of you. “I… I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I have to go. Umm… you know how to get a hold of me, so I hope I’ll get a message from you soon, Miss Ivy.” Kiro pressed a kiss to your cheek before taking a deep breath and running off.

“Excuse me miss, who was that guy you were just with?” Kiro’s agent approached you, an apprehensive look on his face.

You panicked and said the first thing that came to your mind. “My boyfriend. Who are you?”

“Oh, sorry, I guess I got the wrong person.” His agent distractedly walked off in the other direction and you sighed, heading back inside the bar.

As you were entering, you bumped into Anna, her arms wrapped around the man with the plague doctor mask that she was eyeing earlier. Now, his mask was off and your assumption was right, he was handsome. “Oh, hey babe!” She let go of him and stumbled over to you, throwing her arms around your neck. “You’re so pretty. I’m going to go home with this nice man his name is Brandon from the bar, so if I don’t show up to work on Monday tell the police that, preferably that cute one, Gavin. It’d be nice to be rescued by him.”

You glanced towards the man who held up his hands in surrender. “She’s got my address and number, she was gonna send it to you guys, I’ll make sure she sends it on our way over to my place.”

Nodding, you patted her head gently. “You be safe okay, sweetie? I’ll see you on Monday.” She pressed a kiss to the same cheek Kiro had kissed only a few moments earlier and you felt anger bubble in your chest. Your last physical touch from him was wiped away in a quick moment by a drunk friend. Selfishly, you never wanted to wash that cheek again, to always remember the moment; but even if it wasn’t still there physically, you had all the memories you had made with him that night.

After watching for a moment that they actually got in a cab, you headed back inside to find your other two friends. You found them where you left them, on the dance floor and grinding against two masked men. They looked tired now, and you didn’t hesitate to grab their attention. “Hey, I’m tired, want to head back to my place and we can have a sleepover?”

Kiki and Willow said their goodbyes to the two men they were with and followed you outside. “Boss, we thought you left with that cute Batman!”

You bit your lip and glanced at the place on the sidewalk where no longer than 20 minutes ago you were kissing Kiro. “Yeah, but he had to go home. It was really sudden.” Feeling your eyes prick with tears, you dug your nails in your palm to distract yourself. “I didn’t even give him my name.”

“Oh hun,” Willow linked her arm through yours, closing the Uber app on her phone. The car coming to pick you up would be there any second. “I’m sure you’ll run into him again. Loveland City isn’t that big.”

Glancing wistfully in the direction that Kiro had headed after kissing your cheek, you sighed out before climbing in the back of the silver car that had pulled up in front of you. “I hope so,”

The rest of the ride back to your apartment was quiet and you and Willow had to drag a sleepy Kiki into the elevator. The rest of the building was asleep except for you guys, and as soon as you all had changed into comfy clothes, you collapsed on your small bed and fell asleep in a tangle of limbs.

Monday morning, you showed up at work, your spirits still low. Even though you had only spent a few hours with Kiro, no one had ever made you feel the way he did and you longed to feel his soft hands pushing hair out of your face once more.

“BOSS! You are NEVER going to believe who just called and asked to be on the show!” Kiki rushed into your office, eyes wide and chest heaving.

Sighing, you turned away from your computer. “Who?”

“Kiro! Or, well technically, his agent called. But Kiro wants to be on the show!” Your heartbeat sped up at the thought of Kiro walking into the filming studio and seeing you for the first time since your shared moment. “His agent said that he used to watch the show growing up and wants to show his love for it. Please Boss, we HAVE to schedule him on the show.”

“I’m sure I can change a few things around to fit him on. When is he available?” You opened your calendar and waited for Kiki to continue.

“Next week?” She sheepishly smiled. “I kinda already booked him. I’m sorry, I was just so excited!”

You rolled your eyes at Kiki and fought to keep a smile off your face. “Okay, I will figure out a plan for a show with Kiro on it. Now shoo, go do your work!”

Kiki squealed excitedly and exited your office and as soon as you were sure she was out of earshot, you let out a very similar squeal. You only needed to get through 7 days and you would see Kiro again.

The following Monday, you didn’t stop at the office before going to the filming studio, instead opting to spend some extra time on your hair and makeup. You still looked nothing like you did halloween night, but you felt a little more put together and that was important on a day with so many unknowns. How would he react when he saw you? Would he be happy, or would he play it cool and pretend like he had never met you before?

You were so caught up in your own fantasies of Kiro pulling you into his arms and kissing your senseless in front of all the cast and crew that you bumped into a solid chest, a soft ‘oof’ escaping their mouth.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You bent down to pick up your papers that scattered everywhere and the person bent down as well, helping you gather them up.

“No it was my fault, I was looking at this comic and-” he cut himself off as your eyes met his own. “Wait a second, Poison Ivy? You work for Miracle Finder?”

“Yeah um, I’m actually the owner of the company?” Despite daydreaming up millions of scenarios where you ran into Kiro again, you didn’t think you would have physically run into him.

“I had no clue. Um, how are you?” He handed you the rest of your paperwork and when his fingers grazed your own, your whole body was on fire. He had such an affect on you, one you couldn’t even begin to describe. “You never messaged me.”

“I wanted to, believe me.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “I just wasn’t sure if it was a good idea since we’re going to be working together. And besides, I knew I was going to see you here eventually.”

“I’m really happy to see you,” Kiro admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Me neither,” you agreed, gesturing to an empty greenroom. Kiro went in first and you followed a few seconds later.

Kiro took your hands in his own and gazed steadily down at you, his blue eyes never wavering from your own. “I don’t have much to say, but I’ve never felt like this with anyone and I don’t even know your name. We only spent a few hours together but you made me feel more alive than performing on stage does. I want to get to know you, if you’d be willing to give me a chance.”

Reaching up to cup one of his cheeks in your hand, you stroked the soft skin and Kiro leaned into your touch. “I’d love that. I’d love to be able to see where this connection takes us. I feel like I’ve known you for years.” Kiro grinned and leaned closer to you, and you reached up and kissed him softly. “Green apple, again.”

His eyes widened and he looked panicked for a moment. “I’m sorry if you don't like it. I can start stealing sweets with a different flavor that has just been my favorite since I was a kid. I-”

You cut him off with another kiss. “No, it’s perfect. Very you.” Glancing at your watch you shooed him out of the room. “You were due in hair and makeup 5 minutes ago, but I’ll see you out while we’re filming.” Kiro went to leave but you grabbed his arm gently. “It’s MC, by the way. My name.” “MC,” he repeated it over and sent you one of the sweetest smiles you’ve seen from him yet. “Beautiful, just like you.”

Blushing, you pushed him in the hallway and waited for a few moments before checking to make sure the coast was clear and left, walking towards the filming crew. “Boss!” Kiki rushed up to you and you jumped at her voice. “Have you seen Kiro? He looks so cute today!” She paused for a second. “Come to think of it, he kinda looks like the guy you were with on Halloween. Ohmigosh! What if you kissed Kiro on Halloween, how crazy would that be?” You laughed to keep yourself from answering her. Kiki would freak out if she knew just how correct she was.

You were relieved when Willow called Kiki over to clarify a few things about shooting before it started. Kiro was already on scene, dressed in a tight black turtleneck with a red and black jacket over it. He looked good and you took that moment while he wasn’t paying attention to admire him, the way he stood so sure of himself, how his easygoing smile made everyone around him seem at ease.

Kiro caught your eye as you were looking him over and he grinned and winked at you before raising his hand in a wave. You blushed and waved back, his grin widening before turning back to the director.

“Did you find your Halloween mystery man?” Anna appeared at your elbow and you pushed your bangs back from your forehead. “I seem to remember some similarities between Kiro and that man, they look at you the same.”

“Yeah, I think I did.” You replied, not taking your eyes off the blond who was now talking to an animated Kiki. He looked a little nervous and you made your way up to them, gently squeezing Kiki’s shoulder. “Hey, I think someone in the film crew is looking for you, they need you to run an errand.”

Ignoring her protests, you turned Kiki in the other direction. “Maybe you’re the real superhero,” Kiro’s fingers brushed yours before pulling away. “Saving the superstar from crazed fangirls.”

“Nah, I’m not a superhero. Just someone who wants you all to herself.” You admitted and Kiro’s blush made your heart soar.

“Oh you do? So then, what do you say to having a little impromptu date after filming today. I have a secret base I like to go to, no one knows where it is, not even Savin.”

“I say, I’ll meet you outside afterwards.” You couldn’t keep the grin off your face and you were sure you looked ridiculous but you didn’t care. Kiro made you happy. “Filming’s gonna start any second,” you gestured to the camera crew finishing up positioning everything. “You’re gonna kill it, superstar.”

Moving to join Anna, Kiki, and Willow to watch the filming, Kiki started pestering you with questions about Kiro. “You looked so close to him that you could smell him. Boss, please please tell me what he smells like!”

Without thinking about it, you answered. “Green apples.” “Ask her what he tastes like.” Anna teased, nudging your side.

“BOSS! Did you lick Kiro?” Kiki grabbed your arm and Willow gently removed her hand from you. “Oh my god, did you bite him?”

“He’s obviously her Halloween mystery man, did you see how he looked at her?” Willow flipped her hair over her shoulder. “She kissed him.”

Flushing bright red, you lowered your voice to a whisper. “Yes, Kiro was the guy I met on Halloween, but please don’t make a big deal about it!” Kiki was speechless, her mouth was opening and closing like a fish, not sure of what to say. “And before you ask again, he also tastes like green apples.”

With that you walked off, going to sit in a greenroom to answer some emails and send Minor a list of things he needed to get done by the end of the week. Afterwards, your eyes felt heavy so you laid your head down on the couch and closed them, just for a few minutes.

You woke up to a gentle hand brushing hair from your face and whispering your name softly. “Wake up.”

Opening your eyes, you met clear sapphire ones and you immediately bolted up, heartbeat hammering in your chest. “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep for so long. Did I keep you waiting?”

Kiro’s hand moved down to cup your neck, his warm hand comforting on your skin. “Filming just ended. Your friends let me know you were in here.”

Standing up and stretching, your shirt rose above your pants and you flushed as you caught Kiro eyeing the bare skin there. “I just need to check in with everyone real quick and then I’m good to go. Are you okay waiting for a few moments?”

“I’d wait for like, 9 days for you. I did it once, I can do it again.” Kiro winked at you and walked you out of the greenroom. As you checked in with the crew, everything was under control and about to be wrapped up for the day so you made your way over to your three friends.

“I’m heading out, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Yeah, heading out with Kiro!” Willow sang out his name and the other two laughed at your blush. “Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“I’m just glad that’s not Anna saying that,” you teased the older girl who snickered along with you.

Bidding your friends goodbye, you made your way to the doors, and Kiro was standing there waiting for you right where you had collided with him hours earlier. He held out his hand to you. “Ready to go?”

Glancing back once more at your friends, they gave your encouraging smiles and thumbs up and you looked at Kiro, meeting his eyes, before gripping his hand tighter than before. There was nothing you were more sure of in that moment than him. “Yeah, I am. Lead the way.”

#mlqc #mlqc kiro #mlqc Kiro fanfic #mlqc fanfic #mr love #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #Kiro #kiro fanfic #mr love queen's choice kiro #Kiro x mc #Kiro mlqc x mc #my writing

63 notes · View notes

burned-gucci · 4 years

Text

(Your) Friendship Reaction: Friday Night With The Girls!

A fairly casual Friday night sleepover with your best friend(s)

Karina:

She had asked you to come over tonight to play games, eat, drink, sleep. Maybe some scary movies. However, the plan seemingly changed when showed up to her place and found her in the bathroom bleaching her hair with a box of burgundy hair dye on the sink in front of her.

Karina definitely isn't shy about dying her hair, she changes hair colors like one would change out a load of laundry. It feels like every time you see you she has a new hair color, so this really isn't new. It's also not new for her to switch plans last minute cause truth be told, she never knows what she wants to do until that moment hits and an idea springs into her mind.

As she continued bleeching her hair, you hoped up on the sink counter and watched her while you talked. She said you could use her nail polish, mess with her makeup, do whatever you wanted. Play whatever music you wanted. If you liked, she even offered to dye your hair as well since she has plenty. It was up to you!

You guys ended up talking about a number of things. Discussing the latest episode of your favorite tv series and guessing what would happen next using logic from what has happened thus far. She laughed at random jokes and lines you repeated from the show, knowing exactly what scene you were refering to as she commented back with the next line. Afterwards y'all talked music videos, celebrities you both like and dislike maybe. Filled each other in on the news (celebrity or politics). Once the bleach was in and her hair was held up in a plastic bag, she went to grab her keys so you could both go grab some food, she let you choose the place.

It was always kinda weird how shameless she is but at the same time, her confidence about it is inspiring and one of her best qualities. Anywho, hoping in her broken apart damaged black car that no-one knows how it's still running, Karina drove you guys to the restraunt and put in your order picking up the food and driving back JUST in time for her to wash out her hair.

You ate as she washed her hair and attempted to eat little bites of her food as she applied the hair coloring, not wanting to waste time in between. As you low-key called her gross and made jokes you still helped her eat while feeding her little bites of food, teasing her sometimes and making her chase the fork/spoon/iteam. Overall, the eating process was full of laughing and her threatening to dump the hair dye on you just for you to threaten dipping her food in the hair color changing soup in return.

As her hair dye had to sit in for 45 minutes, the two of you watched music videos and played kids monopoly, or jenga. As they're the only games she currently owns! Karina being the not-so-well-focused girl that she is, ended up losing for silly reasons. In jenga she lost because she didn't realise 2/3 of the blocks in the middle row had already been pulled out, since she was eyes glued on the video, and she ended up pulling the last block and knocking the whole tower over in the process. During monopoly she simply had bad luck of sitting in jail throughout half of the game, allowing you to buy the majority of the properties. The other half the game she was paying you and the bank causing her to go bankrupt with only one or two properties being owned by her.

After the game you end up helping her wash out and dry her hair upon her endless begging you to just for her in the end to decide she isn't sure how she feels about this color. After spending about 4 hours total on her hair, she kinda wishes it was still black but she decides to leave it anyways. Insisting she'll clean up the bathroom mess tomorrow (she won't) she pulls you back to the living room and puts on your favorite movie for you guys to watch in the backround while sharing random stories back and forth.

Ciara:

Ciara isn't entirely sure why she invited you over at night knowing well enough she isn't a night time person. She's usually asleep before 11pm. However, she's really missed hanging out with you lately and your presence alone gives her so much energy and makes her happy.

When you arrived, she was eating a bowl of cheerios and drinking some gatorade while scrolling through instagram looking at denim skirts. The first thing she said to you as you walked inside the house was 'what do you think of this?' As she held her phone up to show you a light blue denim knee length skirt with a yellow sunshine on the bottom right side. You gave your opinion on it as you sat across from her at the table. "You're welcome to the kitchen. I don't care what you eat as long as I don't have to make it." She pointed towards the kitchen as she continued to scroll. Almost dropping the phone in her bowl of milk, as you made your choice on what to do, Ciara ended up slapping the phone back at herself and hitting herself in the face with it. Laughing and half crying, she placed the phone on the table and held her nose. "Maybe I should put that down for now!" She stated fairly loudly before getting back to her food.

After eating and placing the dishes in the sink for her to wash later, Ciara headed to her room with you close behind. Forgetting she had washed her sheets earlier, Ciara had to now make her bed. She asked you for help putting the bottom sheet on, let you choose your own blanket from the closet, she made the rest of the bed half efforted. Wrinkles covered the sheets and the pillows were simply thrown at the top of the bed but she didn't care much since you guys were both going to be laying in it immediately anyways!

Crawling into bed to lay on the side closest to the window, Ciara situated herself before tapping the bed beside her for you to lay down. Knowing you well enough, she handed you a book you love/turned the tv onto your favorite channel and let you do your own things as she scrolled through instagram once again occasionally asking for your opinion on certain clothing iteams.

If you have any to share, she listened to you share your thoughts, about whatever was on your mind. She gave her advice and shared her honest opinions in return. If you just wanted to lay there and watch your show/read your book she was fine with that too. She just wanted to be with you and hang together. Not necessarily do something together, that's what tomorrow is for!

At some point, your unsure of when, she managed to fall asleep facing the wall using her arm as a pillow, her actual pillow tossed to the foot of the bed. She was curled up halfway in a ball half stretched out, taking up half the bed space. She looked peaceful, almost dead she was so still and quiet, but peaceful.

Monse:

She had everything planned out! Dinner: Taco Bar! She made different kinds of main fillings based on your tastes and hers. Included little things she knows you love and she set the table up in a very aesthetic and neat way. Drinks: at the store she made sure to buy a few of your favorite drinks as well as a case of water. She also made homemade punch using sherbet ice cream and 7up/Sprite. Outfits: She had your guys matching Marvel/DC robes ans pj sets pulled out and on her bed. Hers was a Nebula/Poison ivy (depending on which one you prefer) set while yours was Gamora/Harley Quinn (dending).

Once you got there, you guys would eat then change. As you ate, she asked all about your day, let you rant and get everything off your cheat if need be. She told you what you wanted to hear and what you needed to hear as you guys discissed several topics. After eating she let you use the bedroom/bathroom to get ready first while she cleaned up the mess before going to change her own clothes and get ready for bed.

Afterwards, she set up the table with posterboard, construction paper, assorted art supplies, ect because tonight you guys will be making your own board game! Whether it be a toally made up game based on shared thoughts between you two or a remake of an already owned and made game. EX.: Marvel/DC based monopoly. Twister using memes. Your own version of battle ship or LIFE. Whatever it may be!

As you both divided up the jobs of who does what parts and as you agreed upon one main idea for the game/gave ideas for the game, Monse played your guys 'Alien Dreamz' playlist AKA the music playlist you guys made last time you spent the night. The whole time y'all were making the game she kept making really bad puns. As she was measuring the cardboard she came up with 'whos the King of school supplies? The RULER!' Before laughing at her own joke. She asked: 'Whats a frogs favorite art supply? Ribbon-t, Ribbon-t' and actually sounding like a frog as she cut ribbon for decoration. The list is endless honestly.

While working on your guys project, between her bad jokes, she complimented you on random things that she genuinely adores about you. Like how pretty/handsom/cute you look when you're focused. Or how she loves the way your hands look as you use a pair of scissors. How soft your eyelashes look. How much she loves your laugh/singing voice. Ect. If you compliment her back, she'll blush and giggle feeling shy but so happy under the surface.

Eventually, she gets really tired and asks if your ready to go to bed saying y'all can finish the game in the morning. You end up laying on the bed she made on the floor out of twelve dozens blankets and pillows, stuffed animals and sheets. While you lay together you share a bowl of popcorn/snack of your choice while watching the Simpsons or any tv show you want if you don't like the Simpsons. She tries so hard to wait for you to fall asleep first so you won't feel lonely but she was so tired she ended up falling asleep a few minutes before you do.

Question of the Day:

Can you/do you stay up late or fall asleep at a decent/early hour?

My Answer:

Depends on the day! Some nights I'm asleep at 7pm some times I can stay up for 80+ hours. It just depends!

12 notes · View notes

ohpuckthat · 5 years

Text

Touch... (Jamie Benn)

Warning: Some NSFW talk...

As soon as Jamie and I started dating, I knew it would be... interesting to say the least. Even in our friendship, Jamie had always been touchy, but when we started dating, the touching got... more ‘romantic’. Whether he was doing something as simple as just holding my hand or holding my hips down as I squirmed under him in bed, he almost always had a hand on me. When Tyler had called us, saying he was having a smaller get together soon, Jamie was all over it. Any time both Jamie and I would go out, he would find any excuse to touch me in some way or another.

The morning of, when I finally woke up, I looked over and saw Jamie sound asleep. I slid out of his grasp and made my way to the kitchen, in desperate need of a coffee. I grabbed one of my favourite mugs and walking into the pantry, making myself a cup. As I was finishing up, I was slightly startled when I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

“Morning.” I heard Jamie whisper in my ear, kissing just below my ear for good measure.

“Morning babe. Do you want a coffee?” I asked, turning back to meet his gaze.

“Mhmm.” He said, reaching forward to grab my cup, but I moved it out of his reach just in time.

“Well you know how to make a coffee.” I said, kissing his cheek and walking over to our couch and slumped down, turning on the tv. Jamie soon made his own cup and came into the living room to join me.

“You’re an ass you know that?” He said, throwing his arm over the back of the couch, his hand on my shoulder.

“You got your coffee in the end didn’t you?” I said, leaning more into his chest.

“Well then...” He said, grabbing my cup from my hand and setting both of our cups down. “I think I deserve a little something in return...” He said, grabbing my waist and pulling me onto his lap. I leaned down slightly, about to kiss him but I quickly hopped off, grabbing my coffee and walking up to our bedroom. I walked into the closet, changing into a swimsuit and putting some shorts and a t-shirt over top. “Oh no, you’re not wearing that to Segs.” He said, walking and lifting my t-shirt up slightly.

“Why not?” I said, taking a step towards him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

“I don’t need anyone looking at you other than me.”

“Well I’m sure that you having your hands all over me will deter everyone else.” I said, sliding past him and walking back towards the hall, stopping just at the door frame to turn back to him. “You might want to start getting ready too. We have to leave soon if you want to get to ‘Segs’ on time.” I said, walking towards the bathroom to finish getting ready.

When my teeth were brushed and I had a little bit of makeup on, I made my way to the living room to finally finish my coffee, hopefully in peace. I loved that man but some days, I just needed to be with myself. I had just about five minutes to myself before I heard him rushing down the stairs.

“Alright babe, let’s get going!” He yelled from the front door. I got up, grabbing my purse and making my way towards him, him holding his hand out towards me. I grabbed his hand, and we were off. When we finally got to Tyler’s, I hopped out of the car and walked up to the house, Jamie not far behind me. Jamie just walked right in, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the house.

“Chubbs, Y/N/N! Glad you could make it.” Tyler said, walking over to us, pulling Jamie into a ‘bro hug’ then turning towards me, pulling me into a hug as well.

“Hi Ty.” I said, kissing his cheek as we parted.

“Well you know where the drinks are, the food. We’re all at the pool out back and Y/N, the dogs are in my room if you want to go see them.” He said, patting my shoulder as he mentioned the dogs. I looked over at Jamie, kissing him quickly before running up to Tyler’s room, opening the door and being immediately bombarded by three dogs.

“Hey boys.” I said, kneeling down and petting them all, earning kisses from them all. I spent only about five minutes with them, knowing Jamie was waiting for me downstairs. I gave each one of them a quick kiss on the top of their heads before making my way to the backyard, instantly seeing Jamie across the pool, his shirt off and his feet in the pool. I walked over and sat down next to him, laying my head on his shoulder.

“Did you get your fix?” He asked, looking down at me to meet my gaze.

“Absolutely. Now I’m not saying that I don’t miss you when you are gone for those long roadies, but I don’t completely hate hanging out with the pups for a little.” I said, pecking his neck slightly.

“Hey Y/N? Can I talk to you real quick?” Tyler asked from across the pool, waving me over with a red solo cup in his hand. I looked over at Jamie, kissing his cheek then standing up, walking over to Tyler, furrowing my brows as I got close.

“What can I do for you?” I asked, grabbing the extra red solo cup in his hand, sipping it, realizing that it was my poison of choice. “Thank you.” I raised my glass slightly, before starting to go back to Jamie, not getting the chance since Tyler grabbed my wrist. “Okay, what’s up?” I asked, turning back to him.

“I uh, I’m feeling a little tension between you and Chubbs. Is everything okay?” He asked, letting go of my wrist.

“Yeah. He uh, just thought that it was a good idea to tell me what I couldn’t wear this morning, and honestly, I uh, I’m not taking that.” I said, smiling up at him.

“Okay, did you want some help? Getting back at him?” He asked, taking a step towards me.

“How would that go?” I asked, taking a step towards him.

“A little something... like... this...” He said, leaning down to me and whispered in my ear, “Is he looking?” He whispered, his lips so close to my ear, I could hear his breath. I looked up slightly over the pool, seeing Jamie looking over at us, quickly looking away when I met his gaze.

“Yeah... Well he was. He’s looking down at the pool now.” I said as he leaned back.

“Do that little giggle you do.” He said, me following his orders. “Good, now follow my lead.” He put his hand on the small of my back, walking me towards Jamie. “Hey Chubbs, I just need to borrow your girl for a sec, if that’s cool?” He said, cocking his head, looking down at Jamie.

“Uh, yeah. Sure, I guess.” He stuttered out, his gaze locked on Tyler’s hand on my back. I knew exactly what he was thinking, how it should be his hand on me, not Tyler’s. Tyler looked down at me before leading me inside, sitting me down at the kitchen island, in full view of the pool.

“If this fucks up your team chemistry, I’m not taking the blame.” I said, hopping off the island, taking a step towards Tyler. “I think we’ve done enough.” I said, patting Tyler’s chest and making my way back out to the pool. I sat next to Jamie, leaning back into him again, this time with my drink in hand.

“What did Segs want?” He asked, kissing the top of my head.

“Not much. He made me a drink though.” I said, taking a huge gulp from the cup.

“I know what you’re doing.” He whispered, leaning down slightly so that his mouth was just beside my ear.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said, moving away from him.

“You’re going to pay for this when we get home.” He said, pulling me back towards him, kissing just behind my ear. “By the end of tonight, you’re going to know exactly who you belong to. I never want to see someone else’s hands on you, and I will make sure Tyler knows that too.”

Needless to say, Jamie’s hands never left my body, all night...

#jamie benn imagine #jamie benn imagines #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #jamiebenn

181 notes · View notes

thepurplebutterflythings · 5 years

Text

Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird (Part 6) - Jason Todd

Gif: Oliverbruce3 on Tenor

Word Count: 3K

Paring: Jason Todd (Titans) x (f)Reader

Summary: Bruce Wayne askes Y/N to come to Wayne Manor for dinner.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: This is a little series I am doing about Jason Todd in Titans. I don’t know Comic!Jason very well so I’m taking all of this from the show, and at the moment he hasn’t been in very often, so please forgive any mischaracterizations.

Tagging: @bella-0104-123 @ninergirl1d @httpfandxms @rosybrock @attackonnat @reclusive-chicken-nugget @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @young-psychos @thesleepykaijuu @thescottpack @nightlygiggles @rougestorms @sinon36

Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird Part 5 | Masterlist |

________________________________________________________________

Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy liked to go on Date Nights, but they didn’t like the idea of leaving two hyenas alone in the house. Bud and Lou wouldn’t fight each other, but that didn’t mean the house would come out unscathed, so they asked Y/N if she would be willing to give up her Saturday night to look after the two animals. She was more than happy to take care of the hyenas.

“Are you sure about this, Hun?” Harley asked as she stroked Y/N’s hair, “you wouldn’t rather be with your man?”

“My man understands that you are all important to me,” Y/N said with a chuckle, “anyway, if it’s alright with you, I might invite him over.”

“We’re more than happy to let you have Jason over,” Ivy said, “you’re a big girl and can handle yourself.”

“He’s a nice young man,” Harley nodded, “very good looking too if I say so myself. You and he get nasty yet?” Harley then winked dramatically.

“AUNTIE HARLEY!” Y/N whined, completely embarrassed, but Harley howled with laughter before saying she was sorry and kissing the cheek of her niece, then pinching that very same cheek. Ivy watched, simultaneously amused by Harley and embarrassed for Y/N.

“Alright you,” Ivy scolded Harley teasingly, “get in the car, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Love ya, Babes!” Harley said as she walked to the car, waving as she did.

“Okay, so you know where the food is?” Ivy checked.

“Since I was a kid, Auntie Ivy,” Y/N assured her, “go, have fun. You know I’ll be fine.”

“I just worry, sprout.” Ivy hugged her niece before leaving to join Harley in the car, but called behind her as she did, “AND IF YOUR FELLA COMES OVER, BE SAFE!”

“Oh my god,” Y/N groaned, pinching her temple as her aunts waved at her as they drove away.

________________________________________________________________

Y/N did end up inviting Jason round. It was a call where she simply told him the fact. Harley and Ivy were out, she was looking after Bud and Lou, and she was wondering if Jason wanted to keep her company.

“KITTY-CAT?” Called Jason as he let himself him.

“LIVING ROOM,” She yelled back. Y/N was sitting on the floor, playing tug of war with Bud while Lou snoozed on the sofa. Jason came into the living room and looked down to see Y/N cross-legged on the sofa and smiled at her and the sight before him.

“This safe?” Jason asked with a chuckle, sitting down on the other sofa without the Hyena on. “I mean, they are still wild animals,” Jason pointed out as Y/N rolled Bud onto their back and tickled the animal’s tummy, which Bud thoroughly enjoyed.

“Oh, they’re like giant puppies, really,” Y/N assured Jason as Bud jumped back up and licked Y/N’s cheek before lying across her legs and whining with joy. “See.”

“I’m spending my Saturday night in the house of Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, babysitting Hyenas with the daughter of Catwoman, who I am dating” Jason shook his head in disbelief, “what has life become?”

“A lot more fun,” Y/N teased as she gently lifted Bud off and laid him on the ground, moving to sit next to Jason, who wrapped an around her and kissed her gently and placed his other hand on her thigh, but before anything could happen, Bud climbed onto the sofa and settle himself between Jason and Y/N, wiggling his bottom to create more room for himself before looking Y/N in the face and lying down, resting his head on her lap. Y/N looked at him apologetically.

“So, not only are your aunts and mother protective of you, two hyenas are too?”

“Pretty much,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, “sorry,” she chuckled a little, “I guess at times like these you wish you went for an easier girl, huh?”

“No way,” Jason assured her, awkwardly reaching over the wild beast and placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder and squeezing lightly. “I like all of this, it’s fun.”

“Well, not many people would call babysitting the hyenas of two of the most wanted criminals in Gotham ‘fun’ but each to their own.”

“Well,” Jason grinned, “Is this fun for you?”

“Yeah, this is my normal.”

“I’m willing to let this become my normal,” Jason said.

Y/N smiled and leaned over the hyena to give Jason a quick peck on the lips, causing him to smile. She then looked at the animal and discovered he was sleeping.

“He’s sleeping,” she whispered, moving Bud off of her lap and standing up, gesturing for Jason to follow her. They quietly and carefully moved their way into the kitchen where Y/N sat on the counter and Jason walked up to her, kissing her gently and running his hands up her thighs. When they pulled back, Y/N grinned and chuckled, “and now you’re making out with the daughter of Catwoman in the kitchen of Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy.”

“Feels like a fever dream,” Jason laughed as he kissed Y/N again, sliding his hands underneath her shirt and trailed his fingers over her skin. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and then ran her fingers through his hair, smiling into a kiss.

“This is totally real, Tweety Bird,” Y/N said teasingly.

“I don’t know…” Jason grinned, “I think I might need a little convincing here, Kitty Cat.”

“I’m more than happy to help with that,” Y/N whispered against his lips before moving her hands under his shirt, feeling his abs. Before they could get any further there was a yapping noise behind them and they broke apart to see Bud and Lou standing there, looking at them. The animals walked towards them, the noise of their claws on the wooden floor echoing, nudging Jason back.

“I’m going to go to the toilet,” Jason said.

“Upstairs, first door on the left,” Y/N told him. Jason smiled awkwardly before walking away. Y/N listened to him go upstairs and close the door before turning to Bud and Lou, hands on her hips and sighing. “Did Ivy and Harley tell you to cockblock me or something?” She complained to the hyenas before pulling two steaks from the fridge and threw them to the animals.

________________________________________________________________

“Tell me about your father,” Bruce said to Y/N one day as they worked together. He was determined to make sure he got to know his new recruit, very impressed with her work. “You talk about your mother a lot, but never your father. Is he in the picture?”

“Oh, no,” Y/N shook her head, “he died before I was born.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bruce looked at his intern sympathetically. “May I ask how he passed?”

“Shot,” she mumbled, “at Penguin’s, he and Mum were celebrating the fact she was pregnant. He threw himself between Mum and the shooter to protect her.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Bruce sighed as he awkwardly placed a hand on her shoulder, “can I give you a hug?”

“Yeah…” Y/N nodded as Bruce pulled her into his arms. He himself being young when losing both parents understood the pain felt when growing up without one, especially through the crime in Gotham. Bruce pulled back and gave Y/N a sad smile, an understanding smile.

“Come to Wayne Manor tonight,” he said, “for dinner. Jason would love to see you and Alfred is cooking Venison Wellington – you can’t miss it.”

“Thanks, Bruce,” Y/N smiled, “I’d like that.”

________________________________________________________________

The dining room in Wayne Manor was extravagant, but even that was an understatement with its insanely high ceiling, chandeliers and red velvet drapes. Y/N felt her jaw drop upon the sight of the room as Jason showed it to her.

“I know,” he chuckled, holding her hand, “I had the same reaction too.”

“Did he even use it before you moved in?”

“I think he and that Dick Grayson he adopted used it a few times, but Bruce mainly eats in his office” Jason said.

“And even then I have to force him,” Alfred said appearing with his hands behind his back, “ever since he was a boy.”

“Alfred!” Y/N grinned hugging the butler.

“Y/N,” he said hugging her back and looking at her closely, studying her. Alfred looked into her eyes and smiled. “I’m thrilled you could make it.”

“Me too!”

“Master Wayne is currently finishing up some paperwork, so you and Jason are free to roam and do as you please,” Alfred said before leaving, “now excuse me, I have to check dinner.”

“Wanna see my bedroom?”

“Pervert,” Y/N teased nudging his shoulder.

“Says the girl who nearly had sex in the kitchen of her aunts house.”

“You weren’t complaining,” Y/N pointed out, “and if Bud and Lou didn’t interrupt us we would have.”

“Shut up,” Jason chuckled as he led Y/N by the hand upstairs and to his room on the top floor of Wayne Manor. It was a large room with a lot of wooden furniture and velvet reds, but there were touches of Jason around the room – his grubby converses were thrown into a corner, his jacket on a chair, and there were poster hanging up as well (probably without Bruce’s knowledge) of singers and movies and TV shows and bikes.

“It’s nice,” she said as she stepped in and looked around before turning and looking at Jason. “Comfy.”

“Thanks,” Jason grinned as he walked up to Y/N and placed his hands on her waist, “what’d you wanna see in my room first?”

“How about the bed?”

“Good choice,” he said picking her up and putting her on the bed, kissing her as he did. Jason laid Y/N down and climbed atop her, brushing her hair from her face.

“OH,” said a voice, causing Jason and Y/N to pull apart and for Jason to jump up from Y/N. They turned to the door to see a bewildered Bruce standing there. He looked very shocked at the sight, like a protective parent, and considering that he was the guardian of Jason, it didn’t surprise Y/N, but she was still embarrassed. “I was coming to see if two wanted to join me for a drink.”

“Yeah,” the two said after meeting each other’s eyes and silently agreeing with each other. There was always another time for Jason to show her the bed.

________________________________________________________________

They all sat in Bruce’s office, Y/N and Jason sharing a leather sofa and Bruce sitting on a dramatic leather chair. Each of them was holding a glass of scotch and chattering away until it was time to be called to dinner. Bruce was smiling widely the whole time with a slight shifting to his sitting form as though a constant need for the loo possessed him.

“So,” Bruce said, “I guess you are wondering why I invited you…”

“I supposed it was about the talk about my dad.”

“Actually no,” Bruce said putting his glass down, “I was planning to invite you anyway.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Bruce nodded, smiling, “you have been beyond impressive during your time at Wayne Enterprises, and… well… I would like to offer you a permanent position, all ready for you to take when you finish your degree if you would like to stay at the company.”

“Seriously?” Y/N blinked, jaw dropped, grinning widely, looking between Jason and Bruce, both of whom were trying to contain their excitement of telling Y/N all this.

“Only if you want to,” Jason said.

“YES!” She cried out with joy, “I’d love that, thank you so much.”

“I am guessing the news was well-received,” Alfred chuckled upon walking in and looking at the beaming Y/N.

“Very well,” Bruce said standing up and nodding.

“Then let’s celebrate with a nice and hot dinner then, shall we?”

“Let’s,” Bruce nodded.

________________________________________________________________

One might expect the Wayne Manor Dining Room to be deathly quiet, but it was, in fact, brimming with laughter and conversation and even Alfred sat and ate with them, it felt more like a family dinner.

“So,” Y/N said, “my prom date comes to collect me,” she tells the story, “and the moment he enters the flat my mother and my aunts are on him like hyenas,” Jason sniggers lowly at the comment, “they’re asking him his intentions, where we’ll be going after prom, if I’ll be home by a certain time, if he’s planning to take me to a hotel. Before he’s even given me the corsage, he’s out the door, running away!”

“Oh no,” Bruce laughed, “you poor thing, what happened?”

“Well, my mum and my aunts took me out on the town instead – a nice girl’s night to make up for what they did.”

“Aren’t you upset that you missed prom?” Jason asked her.

“Can you see me getting all upset about whose Prom Queen?”

“Not really…”

“So it didn’t bother you missing prom?” Alfred asked, “Americans make such a deal over it!”

“Lord no,” Y/N scoffed, “I hated everyone at my school.”

“What did your girl’s night entail of?”

“We went to a fancy restaurant, then we went to a play and things like that.”

“Sounds nice,” Jason smiled.

“It was, and my mum was honestly so ashamed of herself for scaring that boy off,” Y/N explained, “she even offered to go and talk to him about it.”

“Did you take her up on it?” Bruce asked.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, “Why would I want to be with a guy who couldn’t handle my family?”

“Your family’s awesome,” Jason said, “that guy was a coward!”

“I’ll be sure to tell Mum that,” Y/N laughs, “she’ll be flattered.”

They carried on chatting for ages. The topic which came up varied from work to schooling to

“How’s Jim Gordon?” Alfred asked Bruce, “I heard he dropped by the office again.”

“Yes, he’s been coming by a lot recently,” Bruce frowned as Y/N and Jason just shrugged.

“He seems a nice man,” Y/N thought aloud, “although I’ve only met him three times.”

“He is,” Alfred nodded before turning back to Bruce, “what have the two of you spoken about?”

“Nothing much,” Bruce shrugged as he sipped his drink, “erm… well…” he frowned and thought, “he’s mainly been wanting to talk about the past, my childhood – my parents’ case.”

“Your parents?”

“Yes,” Bruce nodded, “Jim was the detective on my parents’ case, perhaps the only detective in Gotham who was honest at the time. Still an honest man, and has inspired many detectives to be better.”

“It’s nice that Gotham has improved over recent years,” Alfred commented.

“When was the other time you met Jim?” Jason frowned in thought. “We’ve seen him twice, so when was the third?”

“Oh, erm, apparently Jim knows my mother,” Y/N shrugged it off. Alfred went very quiet and darted his eyes around the people at the table.

“Well, Jim is one of the few detectives who made sure to check up on people affected by the case he was working on,” Bruce explained, “Jim has many friends throughout Gotham and beyond, and he is perhaps one of the only people I know who does, in fact, have the respect of Penguin, and Riddler.”

“Really?” Y/N lifted her eyes up. “Penguin?”

“Yes,” Bruce nodded, “sorry if it is a sensitive topic for you, your father being killed in Penguin’s.”

“No, no,” Y/N shook her head, “it’s fine. I mean, its Gotham so it’s impossible to avoid him.”

“Y/N has made you aware of her deceased father?” Alfred frowned.

“Yes.”

“Poor Selina,” Jason sighed and shook his head. Y/N and him had spoken extensively about her long-dead father and her mother, “imagine what that was like, one moment having everything at your fingers, a loving spouse, a baby, happiness, and then losing most of that in the blink of an eye. She’s such a strong woman.”

“Selina?” Bruce frowned and looked at Jason.

“Yeah, Y/N’s mother,” Jason said.

“Your mother is called Selina?” He turned to Y/N.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Selina Kyle.”

At the mention of her mother’s name, Bruce’s face dropped and the cutlery fell from his hands, making a clattering noise as they hit the plate. He stared at Y/N. There was a deafening silence in the room. Alfred looked uncomfortable, Bruce was stunned, Jason was confused and Y/N was just bewildered that the mention of her mother’s name caused this strange environment.

“Did she say something wrong?” Jason said breaking the silence, but Alfred shushed him quick enough.

Bruce still hadn’t taken his eyes off of Y/N, his mouth hanging open. He then closed his mouth and licked his lips before opening his mouth and finally speaking. There it was. The thing about Y/N that seemed so familiar all came rushing to him the moment he heard her mother’s name. Bruce just stared at Y/N. He looked at her eyes. Her eyes. Her eyes. Y/N Kyle and her eyes were all Bruce Wayne focused on.

“Y/N,” he began slowly and quietly, “how old are you?”

“Nineteen,” she said still not sure what was going on. Bruce then looked across the table at Alfred, whose expression told Bruce everything he needed to know, the shame on his face from hiding the truth from the boy he raised, his boss, his friend, his surrogate son. The billionaire looked at Y/N Kyle one last time before getting up to his feet, throwing his napkin down on the table and storming from the dining room, he then walked out of Wayne Manor, leaving Y/N and Jason absolutely stunned. Alfred just stood up.

“Shall I make a pot of tea?” he said.

“What just happened?” Y/N said, “Did I upset him?”

“No, dear, you have nothing to do with this,” Alfred assured her, “sugar?”

“Sure…” She said quietly as Alfred left the room. When he was gone, Y/N leaned across to Jason, scared. “What just happened?” She asked in a small voice.

“I don’t know,” Jason said honestly, meeting Y/N’s eyes and shaking his head.

“Where did he even go?” She asked as they got up and walked to the window to see the taillights of Bruce’s car disappearing.

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “Y/N,” he said turning to look at the young woman, “who is your mother really?”

“I don’t know.”

115 notes · View notes

ezm-imagines · 5 years

Text

truth or dare - peter parker x reader

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Liz is having a party, thus the classic game breaks out. But when Peter gets asked a too personal question, you decide to step in.

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

“You’re no fun, Y/N,” Liz huffed as you poured yourself a soda.

“Excuse you, I’m plenty of fun. I just don’t feel like awkwardly walking around a party full of a hundred people I’ve never met.” You could already hear the commotion coming from the other side of the house and it sounded like your worst nightmare.

“I can introduce you!” she insisted, “Please?”

You put a hand on her shoulder, “Liz, no. Thank you for trying, but I’m perfectly happy sitting up in your room watching Netflix.”

“Yeah, but—”

The doorbell rang, and Liz sighed.

“Fine,” she grabbed the drink she’d set down and turned to leave, “But you’ll regret it, Y/N!” she called over her shoulder as she left the room.

"I'm sure I will!" you teased.

You chuckled as you grabbed a cookie from a dessert tray, popping it in your mouth. You loved your cousin, you really did, and you were really glad that she was the one you got to stay with while your parents were out of town this week, but you really weren’t in the mood to go to her party full of students from a school you didn’t go to.

You heard the kitchen door reopen behind you and scoffed, “Liz, I told you, I don’t—“

You turned around and froze as you found not Liz but someone else.

A boy.

A very cute boy.

You swallowed, “Oh... Hi."

Real smooth Y/N.

“Hi,” he choked back. A beat of silence. “I— I came in here to... I was just— I wanted to—”

Finally, he just gave up with a huff and shook the loose ice in his drink to explain it.

You giggled. Okay, maybe you weren’t the only one totally caught off guard by the other's presence.

“What’s your poison?” you questioned, moving around to the back of the drink counter so he could see all the choices.

He stepped forward, meeting you at the opposite side of the counter and clearing his throat, “I- I’m kind of a Pepsi person, I guess... The classics, ya know?”

You scoffed with a giggle, “Ew, you are so wrong.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “Oh? So, what- what do you have, then?”

“Dr. Pepper,” you teased, holding it up, “The superior drink.”

You took a sip with a smile as he chuckled at you. Oh, fuck, you adored that sound.

He pushed the Pepsi liter out of the way and went for the Dr. Pepper, “Fine, but I’m trusting you.”

You smiled to yourself as he poured it, then took a tentative sip.

“Mm,” he nodded, giving it a long taste, “Well, it’s not terrible...”

You chuckled and clinked your Solo Cup to his, “I’ll accept that, cheers.”

He laughed and you bit your lip to hide your grin.

“So... what are you doing in here?” He asked, “Hiding from the crowd?”

You laughed, “Less hiding, more waiting for it to end.”

He furrowed his brow.

“I’m Liz’ cousin. I’m staying with her for the weekend. Although she failed to mention she was going to casually invite over her entire school tonight.”

He chuckled, "Small thing to forget about, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“So... are you planning to join in?”

“Nah,” you shrugged off, “I’m knee deep in the middle of a TV show rewatch that needs my full attention.”

“Oh, what show?”

“Brooklyn 99. Basically the best show on earth.”

“Ah, I see,” he laughed, “Well, if it were any other show, I’d totally suggest you come hang out with the rest of us...” He looked over at you in a small, expectant way that made you realize that was his subtle way of asking you to the party. To see him.

You opened your mouth to reply but were cut off before you could even make a sound.

“Peter!” a voice which you assumed to be Li’z friend MJ called from down the hallway, “Get your butt out here; your assistance is required!”

The boy— Peter, you assumed— blinked before pointing backwards toward the hallway, “Oh, I— I guess I better... go then...”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

He didn’t break his eyes from yours as he took backwards steps out of the kitchen.

That is, he kept eye contact until bumping into the counter, sending the tray of cookies spinning toward the ground. But before you could even try to catch it, he’d already reached out and snatched it from the air, sliding it back on the counter like it was nothing. He looked back over to see the shocked expression on your face as you blinked, still trying to catch up with how quickly he’d done that.

He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, “Yeah, hah, reflexes are kinda my specialty I guess.”

This sputtering, nervous idiot seemed anything but agile; you found yourself smiling at the irony of it. What a dork. What a fucking adorable, agile dork. Oh, God, I’m so fucked.

“Peter!” MJ called again, much more annoyed this time.

“I should... probably... yeah,” he spun around and began heading out of the kitchen.

“I’ll catch you later,” you called after him.

He turned and gave you one last, long smile, before disappearing out of the doorway.

You smiled to yourself, pleased with your interaction. Maybe you could ask Liz for his number later, oh wait-

“Oh, wait, Peter!”

He was back in the doorway in an instant, "Yeah?"

You laughed at his immediacy, “I just wanted to say: I’m Y/N, by the way. In case you wanted to know.”

“Y/N,” he repeated to himself with a smile, “I like it. It suits you.”

“Thanks.”

He gave you one last smile, before a quick nod, and then he was gone again.

You exhaled with a laugh, attempting in vain to slow your racing heartbeat as you headed back towards the stairs.

~~~

“At your service,” you smiled, jumping to the last step in front of Liz.

She took your hand, “Come on, it’s in here.” She led you to a large pile of punch and chips that someone must’ve knocked to the ground in the kitchen. You knew it probably wasn’t Peter, but the image in your mind of him knocking all this over was enough to put a smile on your face.

“Dad will kill me if this stains the floor,” Liz frowned, ripping a few paper towels and kneeling to start cleaning.

“Well, you’ve called the right person. My house has entirely white carpets; I’m basically a master of cleaning at this point.”

“Well, get your ‘master’ ass down here and help, then!”

You laughed before joining her on the ground to help.

The two of you scrubbed for a few minutes, luckily finding the red punch coming up easily.

The noise to the party had gotten considerably louder than it was when you had been down in the kitchen an hour or two earlier. Just as you were finishing, a large group of the party whooped at once.

“What’s going on in there?” you chuckled, throwing the last paper towel into the trash.

“I think they’re playing Truth or Dare. They had just started when I left to clean this up.”

“‘Truth or Dare?’ Are we ten?”

She shrugged, “We were bored! Besides, clearly it’s a good game if everyone’s screaming like that.” She threw her own paper towel away before grabbing your hand, “Come on, let’s go see.”

You knew you should probably put up an argument as to why you should just go back up to her room and finish your episode of Brooklyn 99, but if you were honest, you desperately wanted to see that Peter boy again. You enjoyed the show obviously, but after you’d gone up to watch it after meeting him, he had been all you could think about. To be honest, you were glad to have an excuse to join the party, and to hopefully run into him again.

So, you let her drag you down the hall to the living room without a complaint.

Your eyes widened as you entered the room to find a group of at least sixty people squished into a circle, all yelling and laughing with roarous volumes.

You covered your mouth with a giggle as one boy was wearing a pair of boxers on his head, another wearing nothing but boxers.

Clearly they’d all been having fun out here.

“Alright, my turn!” One boy called out, extending a pointer finger as he scanned the crowd for a victim, “Truth or dare...”

Everyone was waiting to hear who he would call on, until suddenly his finger stopped and he announced, “Peter.”

You gasped quietly as your eyes immediately found the boy you’d been talking to from before, his eyes wide with worry at whatever this boy would make him do. You gathered they probably weren’t very good friends. You also gathered that this other boy was probably a massive asshole.

“Uh, I... truth, I guess,” he stuttered.

The asshole narrowed his eyes, thinking of something. He laughed as an idea clearly sparked into his head, “Penis Parker, are you a virgin?”

The boy blinked, swallowing awkwardly.

“Flash, come on,” MJ called out, “Not cool, dude.”

“What? He picked truth. It’s just a question after all.”

“I...” Peter hesitated.

“I bet you’ve never even had a girlfriend. Or even kissed a girl!”

You looked to Liz who had her brow furrowed with pity. Clearly everyone was not a big fan of this Flash kid. Your estimation of his character was only being proven more accurate by the minute.

“Alright,” you whispered to her, “I’m gonna say something, don’t contradict me.”

“What?” She whispered back.

“Well, he just needs someone to play his girlfriend, right?”

“Well, ye- but... what??”

You turned away from Liz.

“He does have a girlfriend,” you announced over Flash’s continuing taunts.

Everyone’s eyes snapped to you and you felt like you had whiplash from the sudden attention. You swallowed.

“What?” Flash asked.

“Yeah, yeah, we—” your eyes flickered to Peter, who was looking at you with eyes as wide as saucers. You gave him a slight glare, hopefully sending him the message that he was Not Helping.

He seemed to get the message though, clearing his throat and closing his ajar mouth.

“Yeah, well, kinda,” you continued, “We’re not like full-on boyfriend and girlfriend, but we’ve been on a few dates and we’re just seeing where it goes. It’s still pretty new.”

All the eyes in the room turned back to Peter for confirmation and you exhaled, grateful to have the attention back off of you.

“Yeah, yeah...” Peter agreed, simply, clearly uneasy with all the eyes on him again.

“Then how’d you meet?” Flash pressed, “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Liz introduced us.”

Everyone turned to Liz beside you.

“Uh,” she looked to you, “Actually, yeah, I had been thinking about introducing you two for months,” she said slowly, giving you a curious look that made you realize she was actually being honest. That made you smile. Liz knew you well enough to know that you would’ve like Peter. “So, then I finally just... set them up together... last... week.” Liz coughed.

You could almost laugh. Liz and Peter were terrible at this.

“Yup. And that’s how it started. Great, now that’s answered, next question!” You rushed.

Peter was just staring at you, still in shock from what had just happened.

“‘s your turn buddy,” MJ knocked his elbow softly, helping you out by pushing the game away from this topic.

“Oh! Oh, yeah, um, right. Sorry...” he hesitated for a moment before looking back at you, “Y/N?”

You blinked. He was asking you?? What was he trying to do???

“T- truth?” Your eyes flickered to Liz, trying to see if she knew where he was going with this.

“You said we’ve been on a few dates but we aren’t boyfriend/girlfriend yet. Would... would you like to be?”

Your eyes widened and you stood up straighter with surprise, looking around with a breathy laugh.

“Oooooooooh,” the room cooed.

You were looking between Liz and Peter and even MJ, still shocked by the question.

Liz knocked your shoulder, “Well, answer him Y/N!” she whispered.

You looked back to Peter, who was looking at you with hope and nerves and fuck it was adorable.

“Yeah,” you answered finally- honestly.

The whole room cheered and whooped, and you covered your face with your hands with a breathy laugh, embarrassed at the fact that fifty strangers had just witnessed your romantic life play out before them all.

Jesus Christ.

Once the room quieted down, you hurriedly gave MJ a dare and fled the room as soon as it was her turn to ask someone else. God, this is why I don’t go to parties ever.

It was only when you returned to the solace of the empty kitchen that you felt like you could catch your breath finally.

"That was quite the show," Liz laughed, following right behind you.

"Shut up," you groaned.

"Okay, seriously though, spill: what was all that about? Why on earth would you do that for a stranger?"

"I don't know! He seemed nice! Anyone would've done it..."

Liz put a hand on her hip.

Yeah. You’d never been able to get a lie past Liz in your life.

"Fine," you looked away, "He and I might've... talked for a little while in the kitchen."

"'Talked?'" She raised one eyebrow.

You crossed your arms, "Fine, there maybe was a teensy bit of flirting..."

Liz squealed, "I knew it! Oh my god, Y/N, I can't believe it. He was literally the reason I wanted you to come to the party! I knew you two would totally hit it off! He is so your type."

"Oh, shut up," you laughed, knocking her playfully.

"And, if I know Peter, you are totally his type, too."

You smiled to yourself, "Really?"

"Oh, completely. He was just saying last week how--"

"Hey."

You two turned to the kitchen doorway to find the boy in question himself.

"Oh, dang, I just realized," Liz said suddenly, not even bothering to hide how obviously fake her excuse was about to be, "I promised MJ that I was going to be in the living room at this exact minute..." she looked at the clock, "11:17. Yup, on the dot. That's my cue."

You rolled your eyes as she nodded a goodbye for Peter and sped towards the hallway. She stopped once she was behind him and gave you a dramatic thumbs up. You shook your head with a smile, as Peter turned around only to catch her running away.

"Sorry about that," you laughed, "She can be a little... dramatic."

"I think I'm the one who should apologize," Peter rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm sorry you got all wrapped up in that..."

"I'm not," you replied, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

His eyebrows rose slightly in surprise.

"So, you got a turn to ask me truth or dare, but I never got a turn to ask you," you changed the subject, sliding up to sit on the island counter he was standing next to, "I think I'm due."

"Oh, are you?" He chuckled, moving to stand in front of you.

"Yup. So, truth or dare?"

"We are not playing this game again..."

"Truth or dare?"

Peter closed his eyes and sighed, "Alright, whatever, truth."

You hesitated for a moment, staring into his beautiful dark eyes as they focused back on you, "Was it true?"

He furrowed his brow, "Was what true?"

"Was it true what that guy... Flash, or whatever... was saying? You've never kissed anyone?"

His eyes fell from your gaze and he pulled at his sleeve a little, "Umm... I...” he sighed, relenting, “Yeah, it... is."

You smiled a little, before reaching forward and taking his hand in yours, "Okay."

His eyes met yours again, large and hopeful. Your smile grew a little wider, mirroring him, and you watched as his eyes fell to your lips.

"Truth or dare?" he mumbled.

You scanned his eyes for a moment before grinning, "Dare."

"Kiss me."

You froze for a moment, your lungs unmoving like they didn’t know how to function, like they’d never even learned.

He swayed closer to you, and you hesitated for a moment before just leaning in and capturing his lips against yours.

It was short- an exhilarating peck to test the waters, the two of you pulling back pretty quickly.

You both stared at each other breathlessly, before he leaned back in and kissed you again. You smiled against his lips, moving your hand into his hair and moving yourself closer to him to-

You gasped in surprise as you lost your balance from the edge of the counter and tipped off.

Peter spun over, his arms catching you effortlessly before any part of you could even graze the ground. You giggled, wrapping your hands around his neck for support.

“Like I said,” he smiled down at you, “Good reflexes.”

You grinned as he leaned down to kiss you again.

Yeah, Brooklyn 99 could toooootally wait.

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

BONUS:

"Damnit!” A voice surprised you, taking you out of the kiss. You separated, looking over to see who had interrupted you.

You frowned when you saw it was that asshole Flash guy again.

"I was positive you two were lying about being a couple," Flash grumbled as he grabbed a handful of cookies from the tray and stomped back out, "Fuck you, Parker, you always ruin everything."

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

Thanks for reading!! If you liked it please comment and reblog!! <3

read more of my stuff

ask to join a taglist

Permanent Tag List: @your-gay-fangirl @kaitlynpcallmebeepme @coal000 @undiadeestos

275 notes · View notes

todancealongthelightofday · 4 years

Text

Well.

It's official. I’m off facebook. I had to. I can't continue to hurt myself obsessing over what you're doing and what people are saying about me. I can't be worried about every post I make and who may get upset or how much of my personal life I accidentally reveal. I'm struggling with myself to not give into the temptation of being petty. I want to show every single one of those girls you added this week all of the screenshots I have of you being the absolute worst. I want to tell your family that you never “went so hard” on me because I was “pulling some shit”. that never happened and you know it. You sit alone, bored, with a dry phone and so you decide to “miss me” and apologize and make all these promises that things will be different. The same promises that ive heard 1000 times already. Nothing was ever different. Just last night, when you accused me of so many things, you yourself were lying to me. Your snap count keeps going up, yet you yell at me that you're not talking to anyone and you'll delete snapchat. Why would it matter if you deleted it anyway? you just redownload it when I'm not around, just like you always have. Thats the thing. The trust is gone. You've used it up. You've taken every bit of trust I have and shattered it. I can't even go to my hometown anymore because I don't know who I can trust. Who you've poisoned. I know you're not telling anyone what really happened. I assume you're spinning a narrative along the lines of “she couldn't handle me being gone all the time and she was being a bitch so we broke up” instead of “I was unfaithful the entire relationship because I have a sex addiction, but I stopped wanting sex with her a long time ago. I also stopped loving her the way she craved to be loved. I stopped kissing her. I stopped calling her beautiful. I stopped enjoying her company on the couch for a lazy movie day. I stopped appreciating her as she held down the fort while I went away for work and flirted and partied and ignored her. While I was gone, she was at work or at home. She was paying bills and calling plumbers and yard workers, and getting estimates on fence work and painters and floor replacements. She was cooking and cleaning and caring for our dogs. She was allowing others to stay in the house because they fell on hard times. She was rehabbing baby animals and getting broken glass doors replaced. She was doing everything she could to bring light and happiness to everyone (and every animal) she could. And she was doing it all while being neglected. Doing it all for me while I was going out and disrespecting her and our commitment.” I know thats not what you're telling them, but thats the story id really like people to know. I want them to know that I cried myself to sleep every night that I would call you before bed, after not talking to you all day, and you “had nothing to say. I just worked all day. I'm tired. goodnight”. I would cry on the bathroom floor when you would come home after 3 months and never kiss me or hug me. just walk past me and ask “who's coming over tonight? lets cook!”. I would spend hours steaming floors and dusting fans and washing blankets and shampooing carpets and then I would shower and dress up and do my makeup and wear my best outfit down to the panties, and you would just come home, have people over, get sloppy drunk, and pass out, leaving me to host until everyone left, clean the mess that 10 drunk people and a bbq is bound to leave, then crawl into bed at 4 AM. Then I would get up at 6:30 to start the morning routine. Dogs out. Feed cats. Let dogs in and feed them. Feed the fish and the tortoise. Let the dogs out again. Switch the laundry, unload the dishwasher. You would just lay in bed all day. If you got up, it was probably 2 or 3 in the afternoon and you'd sit on the couch and watch tv while I did your laundry and whatever other things needed to be done that day. I would beg you to come with me for Tyson’s vet appointment, and of course you'd say no. I’d tell you my family was having a crawfish boil and you'd say you were too tired or “dont feel like being around people”. But thats not true, was it. You just didn't want to be around those people. You were always ready to go to bars and drink and ignore me. thats the people you like. the ones that don't know you and that assume you're single because you haven't touched me or kissed me or danced with me once all night. But oh... if Claire wants to dance or if a guy starts talking to Leah, you're on that shit. Cant let YOUR eye candy get taken by some guy at a bar. Yet I was forced to break a mans nose. I was forced to defend myself, because when he disrespected me, you where nowhere to be found. Probably watching some girl, too distracted to know that a man was trying to hurt me. But doing worry. I dealt with it. Im stronger than you think. I made it through all that. I made it through so many nights of hating myself and questioning what I did wrong and why I wasn't good enough. What I could do to be good enough for you. I didn't leave when you invited Linzy to sleep in your bed and stoped coming visit because she would be bored alone if you left. I didn't leave when your snapchat was all women that you would snap all day long and never save anything so I could never see it. I didn't leave when you fixated on the idea of Sadie showing her tits in new Orleans while I stood right in front of you. I also didn't leave when, that same night, you “jokingly” grabbed at her chest and when we went home, your phone “accidentally got left in the bathroom standing up in a strange place and took pictures of her in the shower”. I didn't leave. I stayed and I believed you because for a day or two after an incident you would love me again. you would kiss me and hug me and have sex with me. Then as soon as I believed you, it would stop and you'd go back to your fuck boy shit. You'd go back to “being so tired” that you couldn't call me before bed but you had time to talk to Claire and invite her to your hotel room. You couldn't be bothered to give me the attention I had been begging for, but you could find time to snapchat my sister and “dare her to flash you as a joke”. Or what about the time you “accidentally” sent her a snap of your dick in the shower?! I am so angry and so hurt. Honestly I don't even remember what the point of this post was. Its gone from having a purpose to the words jus falling out of my heart and into my keyboard. I know I made the right choice. I saw something earlier that said “Sometimes you have to break your heart to find your peace” and honestly that is what im doing. Im so hurt and so scared and I feel small and lost, but after typing all these things, I remember why I left you. I know these negative feelings will pass and my life will get back on track and ill be happy and I know that one day I will find a man that knows how to love. A man that knows how broken I am and the trauma that iv gone through and he just supports me and loves me the way I've always wanted. So im deleting facebook so that I am no longer hurt by all the lies you're spreading and all the women you're fucking. Im choosing to fix me. I am choosing to stand myself up and climb out of this rubble and keep moving forward. Im choosing to start putting myself back together so that when that man finds me, im ready to let him hold me. Also, sorry to anyone that gets stuck reading this. It is word vomit on a page and I apologize for my shit writing and rambling. I just kinda let myself type whatever came out. This is my life. this is me. Well. its at least the tip of the iceberg of the hot mess that is me.

4 notes · View notes

kaepop-trash · 6 years

Text

Diagnosis

Rated: Fluff

Pairing: SichengxReader

Summary: Your supervising doctor really disliked you.

(A/N): It’s Winwin’s world and we’re all just living in it. This is small and stupid but we sometimes need one of those.

“He's had two seizures in the span of four hours and he's sweating profusely. Muscles have lost control, probably due to nerve damage.” Sicheng pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he read from his notes, “There is–” He continued but a figure pushed him aside, he looked around for the disruption, looking down to spot a resident doctor he recognised. When she realised everyone was looking, she looked up, eyelids twitching with realisation.

“Oh I didn't mean to interrupt you, please continue.” She gave him a thumbs up for motivation and went back to looking at the patient's arm closely.

“There is a significant loss of body heat. I'm certain.” He looked up at the doctor with determination, pushing his glasses back again with a small smug grin, “It's epilep–” His eyes sparkled.

“Wrong.” The girl scrutinizing the body stood up, brushing her coat and turning to him, “Sorry for the second interruption, but it's not. Epilepsy.” She dug under her nail bed. As a rule residents weren't allowed to have nails, and she usually picked on that.

“What makes you so certain?” He asked with knitted brows.

“He's heaving because his gag muscles are contracted, his lips are blue. It's alcohol poisoning.” She clicked her pen and scribbled into her notepad.

“All of those can easily be signs of epilepsy.” Sicheng defended. She looked back at him wordlessly.

“Yes, but he's sweating profusely, and it smells of liquor, tequila I think. So I'm sure my diagnosis is correct.” She said professionally, “An IV drip and some activated carbon should do it I think.” The doctor seemed impressed.

“Yes, but you completely bypass the rules of determining a diagno–” He started.

“But I'm right am I not?” She looked at the professor who nodded and Sicheng gripped his jaw.

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.” He growled suddenly, she turned to him with wide eyes at the unexpected intensity. He turned his red face away, missing her amused smile.

It was that moment, she really could single out that one single moment as she ran across the ER at 4am in her pajamas and a half worn lab coat. She pushed the doors of the unit and rushed in, gazing around and catching a familiar figure, she scurried to his side.

“You asked for me?” It was the first time she spoke since waking up and her voice came like a croak, taking her a little by surprise.

“There's a patient who came in with chest pains. You're training to be a cardiac surgeon aren't you?” He looked at her momentarily before turning to the clipboard in hand and pretending to check.

“Yes, but I don't have a shift now.” She said hesitantly. He looked up, taking a second to asses her words and then look away.

“I wasn't aware of that.” He coughed uncomfortable, “Since you're here anyway, you should go ahead.” He encouraged and she nodded obediently but there was clear exasperation in her eyes. She turned to the sedated patient.

“I think it was a textbook heart attack, but you already knew that. You've given him Nitroglycerin.” She turned to him with sleepy eyes and raised a brow.

“How can you be sure?” He tilted his head and she scoffed.

“He'd be dead by now otherwise. I'll scrub in on the surgery since I'm up anyway, let's go.” She turned away from him, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing her complain.

“He thinks you undermine him.” One of the residents said matter of factly as she ate her cereal. (Y/N) looked up at her with sleepy eyes and frowned.

“We’re just the same specialisation you know, he got his PhD last year. Now he's a doctor and I still have a year left of my residence. What part of me undermines him?” She sighed and rested her head of the table.

“Maybe he's just tired and pissed from his new job and he takes it out on you.” Someone else on the table offered and she frowned deeper.

“That's not fair.” She turned to him and he shrugged.

“It doesn't need to be, you answer to him now. Just bite your tongue and bear with it. This is your last year as a resident.” He gave helpful advice that she nodded to with understanding.

She didn't understand how things turned out like this. As she sat silently beside Sicheng and both of them quietly ate ramen. It had become a ritual now, both had their break at the same time and ended up at the convenience store across the hospital. It was better than eating alone, but by no means was the silence between them a comfortable one. Her very skin seemed on edge around him, but inevitably he would come sit beside her to finish his mediocre meal.

It was one such evenings that she was sitting at the window, more tired than usual. She had scrubbed in on a nine hour surgery. Sicheng sat in front of her, wordlessly as usual. But this time he wordlessly placed a cup of coffee in front of her. She only looked up with part confusion from tiredness and part from the new situation.

“You look tired.” He said, inspecting his noodles, before he turned to her.

“Plus, I have already added your name for a surgery scheduled in an hour. It’s a unique case, you might be interested.” She wasn’t aware that her scowl was bad enough to make him cough and look away.

“I just finished up with one.” She whispered with defeat, Sicheng hesitated.

“The transplant?” He asked and winced when she nodded, having heard of it’s duration. He bit his lip.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t aware.” He looked away, cheeks dusted pink.

“It’s okay.” She said insincerely as she toyed with her ramen.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I'm sorry?” Sicheng lifted his sleepy head with a squint.

“If we find a girl cute Sicheng, we don't bury them in work.” Taeil said knowingly and Sicheng only furrowed his brows harder.

“How do you know she doesn't appreciate it? I call her for the rare cases you know.” He mumbled as he scooped more porridge into his mouth. Taeil smiled in amusement, he didn't even deny it.

“I may not be an expert, but I'm going to put myself out there and say that there is a possibility that she might think you're picking on her.” Taeil sipped on his burned coffee with a slightly prideful expression, he was, at the very least, better than Sicheng when it came to things like this. In fact Taeil was excited to tell the others, Sicheng had a crush and he was on the way to getting some liquid thrown at him by her.

“I'm telling you, I know what I'm doing. She's good at diagnosis.” He leaned in a little and his voice dropped, “Better than Dr. Oh.” He whispered and Taeil's eyes went wide.

“Yeah. She gives a basic diagnosis after just looking. It's like watching tv or something.” Sicheng was wide eyed in wonder as he explained and his friend was interested.

She wasn't sure what happened in the past week, but it seemed like her pager buzzed every other minute.

“You called?” She rushed into the ICU room, raising her brow at the crowd of first year residents.

“I was wondering if you would help with this diagnosis.” Doctor Seo asked politely, like it wasn't the same question every time. She buried her disbelief and walked up to him, taking the chart in his hands.

“It's head trauma of some kind?” He asked placing his index finger on his lower lip and looking down at the chart in her hand, “She might be brain dead from a lack of oxygen supply to the brain.” He conjectured further. She turned to him and listened carefully, when he finished she leaned forward and checked her pupils.

“Her pupils are dilating fine, she's not brain dead.” Her face was heavy in scrutiny as she glanced at the person carefully, before reading the chart.

“It says here that she was feeling very thirsty before she collapsed. I think she might have untreated hyperglycemia, it's not outlandish for a lady in her age. I think a test should determine that easily.” She reminded herself to smile politely and bow, before making her way towards the door.

“I'm sorry Doctor Seo, but Doctor Kim asked for me urgently.” She bowed again and made her way out.

She truly felt at her wits end, it was frankly the last straw. She stood in front of the schedule put up and saw her name included in a surgery that was scheduled tonight. It was too bad that tomorrow was the Lunar New year and she had intended to go home for the weekend. Her head dropped as she walked through the halls.

“Ah, Dr. (Y/L/N). Dr. Kim informed that he wants you present at the surgery tonight. He usually doesn't take residents, you must be excited.” There seemed to be smug tone in his voice but she was too tired to care. Having been acknowledged by another person, she had no choice but to stop. Then, the moment she looked up to try to give a disingenuous reply but her head spun when she picked it up too fast. Her vision blurred for a second but she put a hand on the wall to straighten herself.

“I just have to check on a patient Doctor, then I'll be on my way.” Her voice seemed light and it took her a moment to realise that the wall she was holding onto was cloth and the person in front of her was Doctor Sicheng.

“Are you okay?” His voice was small but concerned, she thought she tried to smile.

“Perfect, thanks for asking. I have a surgery, maybe we should get ramen after.” She laughed, but her head seemed to heavy and kept trying to fall back.

“Right. (Y/N) I'm going to pick you up now, please try not to move.” His voice seemed to ring in her ears and she pouted with pity, it was probably the longest sentence he'd said to her.

The neon lights of the cafeteria made her squint her eyes as she sat with her legs propped up with hand on her temples and her elbow on her knee. Her tongue felt salty as she felt the pressure of the IV in her left arm, she quietly sipped on her lemonade as Sicheng watched her.

“You're dehydrated and your blood pressure was frightfully low. Something dangerous could have happened if I–” He paused eyes growing a little wide before he sat back, “If someone wasn't there. You should take better care of yourself.” His voice showed genuine concern but she looked up exasperated.

“I haven't slept more than 3 hours each day in the past month.” She mumbled, looking away.

“When is your next day off?” He asked and she turned back to him.

“Today. But I got scrubbed in.” She raised a knowing brow at him and he looked away.

“I'm sorry if I did anything to offend or undermine you. I was just doing my job, but you're being unfair to me.” She said a little softly and Sicheng seemed to turn back speechless.

“I'm sorry?” His voice was a little too quick and she winced.

“You think I give you work to prove my authority over you?” He asked, looking a little hurt and she was raised to silence. Said like that, she definitely heard how ridiculous it sounded. She turned to her left arm and winced.

“I think the flow is too rapid.” She lightly tugged on the Catheter and he put a swift hand on hers.

“You'll dislodge it, let me check.” He said without looking at her and she nodded.

She felt too awkward to apologise, but still wondered if at least part of her rationale was true.

“I thought you'd appreciate been given more responsibility. I suggested your name to Dr. Oh for residents to hire next year, but he said he'd never noticed you. I'm sorry, I realise I should have at least informed you. I thought I'd sweep you away.” He laughed awkwardly as he fumbled with the clamp, “I guess I also wanted to spend time with you.” When the pressure felt comfortable she lifted her other arm and tugged on the sleeve of his coat. He looked up with large lost eyes and hers seem to mirror his.

“Would you like to go for dinner with me? It's the New Year now, we didn't need to scrub in for the surgery.” He said a with a sudden rush of bravery, she could tell he was bracing himself when her face fell.

“I was hoping I'd take the night train home.” She smiled sheepishly, but a moment later his words rang in her head again and her cheeks turned pink.

“Did you just ask me out?” She looked up back at him again and he looked away.

“No.” He said too quickly, only when he looked back did he see her face fall.

“Oh.” She said a little insincerely.

“No, I mean yes. I am.” He groaned internally at his smooth ways, externally he gave her another smile.

“I've never met someone who knows as many symptoms as you. It's kind of hot.” He admitted and she took a moment of being wide eyed to adjust to his words before she laughed.

“You're trying to flirt with me!” She said like it only just occurred to her, he was a little hurt.

“Doctor D–” She smiled.

“Call me Sicheng. That's my name.” He mumbled again and she stuttered.

“Sicheng. I promise to go on dinner with you tonight if you find less exhausting ways for us to spend time together.” She smiled, before she thought over something.

“And if you drop me to the station in the morning.” She added quickly, he had a car.

Sicheng seemed almost excited at the idea, and he had to admit: so attracted to her as she confidently asked what he had failed to this entire year.

“Nothing would make me happier.” He assured her

#nct #sicheng #winwin #nct scenarios #winwin scenarios #sicheng scenarios #kpop scenarios #doctor!au #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream

158 notes · View notes

comicgirl08 · 5 years

Text

Supergirl recap: Red Daughter tries to turn Kara into Dead Daughter

Supergirl’s penultimate episode finds our heroes embarking on different missions, all of which are presumably racing toward the same end goal in next week’s finale.

Let’s start with Lena, who’s such a boss that she bought her mother’s privately owned prison so Lillian could work on extracting Harun-El from James. To ensure her compliance, Lena poisons her and gives her a day to earn the antidote. She also slaps a baby Truth Seeker on her mother’s arm.

“Couldn’t you just waterboard me like a normal person?” Lillian asks, but she also confesses that she paid $14,000 to make Lena’s middle-school boyfriend scram and she tells her daughter that she loves her. Aww! Happy Mother’s Day!

Lena also tracks down Lockwood to let him know that President Baker, and therefore he himself, is working for Lex. Lockwood, who’s got Harun-El-induced red eyes and shedding hair, isn’t pleased by this news and goes tearing off. James and Lena follow.

Before he confronts Otis, Lockwood injects himself with more Harun-El, which is certainly a choice. Dumb-dumb Otis, tucked away in a safe house with video games and what looks like a sweet plate of donut holes, confirms that yep, they’re working toward Lex’s goals of money and world domination. “Supervillain, right, I get it,” says a disgusted Lockwood. Then Otis and Lockwood start to fight. James tries to pull them apart but is overcome by his Harun-El, and in the end, Lockwood rips out Otis’s Metallo Kryptonite heart and bolts.

Lena then helps James to the lab, where Lillian injects him with her anti-Harun-El solution. And when she suggests that Lena didn’t have the ovaries to actually poison her, Lena coolly offers her a vial and suggests, “You should drink it.”

Okay, our next group of heroes are Brainy, J’onn, and Nia, who are tasked with finding the aliens from the DEO desert facility. Brainy’s also tasked himself with telling Nia he’s in love with her because he’s a multitasker.

A unicorn keychain gives Dreamer a vision that leads them to an Amertek facility, but J’onn says Brainy’s odds for successfully Wookiee prisoner gag-ing their way in are too risky. But when he flies off to survey the scene and the young’uns spot the keychain girl, they move in on their own, with Brainy’s image inducer making him look like Lockwood.

And let me tell you, friends, what follows is an amazing 60 seconds of television as Sam Witwer delightfully channels Jesse Rath’s Brainy trying to be Lockwood. It’s *chef’s kiss* perfection. And the Children of Liberty bust them immediately, of course, because Ben Lockwood’s a lot of things, but robotic he is not.

Time for a little light torture. At first, Brainy begs them to spare Dreamer, but the harsher the treatment gets, the more affected he is. Then he starts glitching—and I use that word intentionally. As he tells his captors, he’s from a race of synthetic beings who are time and space travelers with ancestral memories. And those ancestors were very bad people: conquerers and collectors. He laughs and cries, and the lights on forehead flicker and flash.

Then he announces that they rebooted him to be more like his emotionless ancestors. “And that was a calamitous mistake,” he warns before he effortlessly takes out a roomful of guards, smoothing his hair, and collecting his Legion ring.

In a voice several shades deeper and more dispassionate than we’ve come to know, he explains to J’onn, who snuck in disguised as Eve, that Nia could be useful to his plans. He enters her cell and kneels in front of her. She’s clearly expecting that love declaration, but instead, he locks her back up and informs her that she’s to walk through the portal with the other aliens. Then she can astral project and they can liberate the camp.

Nia’s not cool with this plan, but Brainy doesn’t care. Then he performs what to my untrained eye looked like the five-point palm exploding heart technique and leaves J’onn to be captured, calculating that this doubles their odds of success.

Dreamer catches sight of Brainy turning his back on her as she’s waiting to be ushered through the portal, and dang, you thought Brainy was cold? You haven’t met Brain the Fifth.

Finally this week, we have Kara, informing Baker’s henchmen that in the U.S., we don’t just black-bag journalists. They sneer that the CatCo servers have been scrubbed, so bye-bye evidence. She easily escapes the humans, but Red Daughter gets the jump on her with the help of some Kryptonite.

As Red Daughter casually screws a silencer onto a gun, Kara, restrained with a Kryptonite chain, begs her to see that they’re the same. Red Daughter disagrees, calling Kara limited and mocking her cheerleader skirt. (She’s just jealous, Kar-Kar!)

As Red Daughter rants about the American Dream being snake oil, Kara reminds her that she’s got 15 years of Kryptonite tolerance on her and escapes out the window with only a bullet wound in the arm.

She heads to J’onn for patching up (prior to his Brainy/Amertek exploits), and she realizes that if Lex knows who she is, Alex is in danger. But J’onn says restoring Alex’s memories could destroy her mind if her sealed-off neural pathways are opened up through his psychic force. The only hope is that she remembers on her own.

Well, how convenient, then, that Alex just had a dream about Kara’s unexplained strength when they were children. Kelly, who’s casually hanging at Alex’s, suggests the adoption trauma led to adopted sister memories, but Alex says it’s the same weird feeling she had during the recent DEO security sweep. I think it’s happening tonight, friends! The remembering is upon us!

Concerned, Supergirl sneaks into the DEO to work with Alex on locating Red Daughter using a satellite scan. When Haley finds them, she immediately believes their story that Baker’s working with Lex, particularly because she has reason to believe that Lex hopes to acquire Project Claymore technology. (Apparently,pp all six of the engineers on the project recently woke up dead.)

When the tracker turns up Red Daughter, Supergirl ditches Alex and finds an apartment filled with her belongings. “Oh, Rao, she’s stalking me,” Supergirl breathes.

She’s studying a photo of Mikhail when Alex comes in, horrified that Red Daughter’s place looks like Kara’s. Alex describes her fear for Kara as feeling like a piece of her heart is out there in the world, on its own without protection. As she cries, Supergirl takes her hand, but the almost-sisterly moment is interrupted when their mother calls to say that Kara’s there with her.

Supergirl freaks and races to Eliza’s, where Red Daughter’s super judgy about all of Kara’s stuff. She insists that Lex goes by “Alex” and says she serves the collective, not individuals. Kara asks about Mikhail, which was a mistake because Red Daughter believes the Americans killed him. She unleashes the exo-suit and the pair fight, with Kara insisting, “Hope, help, and compassion for all. That’s what I stand for.” But Red Daughter refuses to listen to her warning that Lex will turn on her.

While Kara assumes they’ll be evenly matched in the powers department, Red Daughter brags that she’s “evolved” and unleashes a purple lightning punch that … knocks out the daylight, somehow? I don’t quite understand it, but it’s suddenly dark as she pummels Kara into submission just as Alex arrives on her bike.

Kara the hero, of course, refuses to submit, and as Alex watches the power show, she experiences the return of other memories: Kara roasting marshmallows with her laser eyes, making it snow indoors with her cold breath, rescuing her plane in the series premiere, reluctantly accepting Alex’s offer to save her with the memory wipe.

“Kara,” she breathes just as Red Daughter delivers a terrible blow. Alex tries to intervene, but Red Daughter knocks her down, listens to the slowing of Kara’s heart, and flies upward. Come on, did Lex not teach her the double tap? Alex remembers everything now and races over to Kara’s body, screaming, “Kara, you can’t go!” as their mother arrives. Red Daughter watches from the sky until a distant noise summons her.

Desperate, Alex tells the unmoving Kara that there’s sunlight in everything, stuffing grass into her fists and insisting, “Kara, just take it. Take the grass. Please.” Then streaks of light travel through the ground and flow toward Kara, who’s pulling the sunlight from the Earth into her body. It revives her, and her first words to Alex are, “I missed you so much.” Danvers sisters forever!

Then Haley calls Alex with bad news: She found plans for a compact Claymore that could fit into a Lexosuit. And the television gives them worse news: Kaznia invaded while everybody else was busy with all the other stuff, apparently. The president tells the nation that Kaznia was aided by the terrorist Supergirl, and Lex in a Lexosuit singlehanded thwarted their plans and killed her. As proof, the news shows a dead-looking Red Daughter in Lex’s arms.

Snaps of the cape

Questions! I’ve got ‘em! How did the Kaznian invasion slip by such that everybody’s hearing about it for the first time on TV? Who can un-reboot Brainy? Was Red Daughter’s purple lightning what brought down Lena’s plane last week? Who else instinctively screams “Wolverines!” when they see the title “Red Dawn”? Is Red Daughter really Dead Daughter? I mean, she can’t be, right? We need her “Mikhail’s still alive!” redemption arc.

Such fun acting challenges for both Witwer and Rath this week! The former nailed the “Brainy-as-Ben” vibe, and the latter gets to create a whole new approach to his character. I can’t wait to see how this storyline unfolds, but I hope it ends with a lot of groveling for forgiveness from poor Nia.

Are you ready for the finale next week? I am (give us more Lex!), and I’m not (the show’s been so fun this season!). Until then, super-friends…

#Supergirl #KaraDanvers #RedDaughter #Dreamer #NiaNal #Brainiac-5 #Brainy #JamesOlsen #MartianManhunter #J’onnJ’onzz #LenaLuthor #LexLuthor #RedDawn #NationalCity #Midvale #TheCW

7 notes · View notes

whatsupwhump · 6 years

Text

Whump Bump of the Month: Laws of Motion

(where the new, the slightly old, and really old fanfic gets bumped to your attention in broken down, comprehension reviews)

Whump Bump of the Month: Laws of Motion

Written by: pennflinn

Posted on Ao3: November 26th, 2017

(word count: 4,858)

Fandom: Flash (CW TV)

Ship: Barry Allen/Iris West

Summary: A collapsing building is just part of the job. Being buried beneath the rubble was never part of the bargain.

Obvious but obligatory warning: The following contains spoilers for the entirety of the aforementioned fan-fiction. It contains quotes and personal opinions, both done out of appreciation for the author’s time and efforts put into their work.

“Laws of Motion” written by @pennflinn was chosen for the b-lated January Whump Bump of the Month for it’s astounding ability to allure a heartfelt sense of loss of hope, struggle, pain and heroism in its such short word count.

@pennflinn is far from new to bringing her audiences in with little words, instead focusing on simplistic punches that wrap up her plots tighter than a shiny Christmas present. There’s no dragging alongside a prologue or introduction when starting this fic -- rather you’re immediately presented with the problem Team Flash and Barry Allen are faced with: a collapsing building.

As the narrative so wonderfully goes on to say, none of this is new for our characters. Iris makes a mental note that, albeit hesitate to call it routine, burning buildings and breaches in the space-time continuum were all coming to be the norm. Still, Pennflinn doesn’t fail to captivate a sense of urgency between characters, gut-punching usage of verbiage like “His groan turned into a drawn-out yell” and “She was staring at her phone, pale as a sheet” doing wonders to satisfy a whump itch.

Character Whumped:

Barry Allen

The Enjoyment of Whump!Barry:

Barry Allen is a unique character for whump, not in the sense of being a superhero -- of which a lot of fans like to gravity towards for the trope of “hero who can’t save themselves” -- but because he has superhealing and an intolerance to prolonged pain, poisons and medications. It’s the latter that really makes the Whump!Barry spark. Though your time torturing the fastest man alive is limited, it can be intense, brutal and bring a mental and/or emotional pain after.

Flavor of Whump:

Foreign object in the skin -- a building collapsed leaves Barry with a back full of tiny shards of glass.

Comforter of the hurt/comfort:

Primarily Iris West with a dash of Cisco Ramon and Caitlin Snow.

[ Laws of Motion ]

The story transcends similar to a constantly moving camera, capturing moments of time scattered throughout an otherwise routine and somewhat insignificant event in Team Flashes life. It’s even mentioned in narrative that after having his back broken, clearing the use of his legs leaves more than just Barry with a sigh of relief.

[ Laws of Motion ]

| Cisco broke into a shaky smile. "So, you've just had a building dropped on you. How do you feel?"

"Spectacular," Barry croaked. He was cut off from further comment by Caitlin tearing off his cowl and fitting him with her own oxygen mask.

"Does anything feel broken?" she asked, while simultaneously shining her penlight into his eyes. Iris didn't need the light to tell that he was definitely concussed. "Can you move your legs?"

It was always the worst case scenario, ever since the Zoom incident. And judging by the way he'd been hunched over that girl, tons and tons of metal pressing down—

Barry's face scrunched as he agonizingly bent one knee, then the other. He groaned as he let them drop back to the table, but he bent each of his arms up as well to prove his mobility. At least, what limited amount he had. |

The groundwork is laid down neatly and without hesitation as Caitlin goes on to explain what the readers already know, and are subsequently excited for.

[ Laws of Motion ]

| Tweezers already in hand, Caitlin felt around for one piece near Barry's shoulder blade. "I'm going to have to pull these out, Barry," she said, having learned over time to narrate her actions. Whether or not it helped with the pain itself, it at least seemed to help Barry in identifying the source of it. "Some of these are..." She moved lower, frowning at the soft flesh beneath Barry's ribs. "...they're buried pretty deep, and I'm afraid some may have splintered into smaller pieces under your skin. They're going to require a minor surgical procedure—"

Barry moaned, and Iris whipped her head toward Caitlin. "Surgery? Isn't that the kind of thing that local anesthetic is for?"

"Minor surgery. We can't use anesthetic," Caitlin said, her face drawn and tight and deliberately blind toward much of the world. "You know that."

"I don't want to," Barry said, shaking his head, half-delirious, the fingers on one arm clenching and unclenching on the sheets. Based on the look of it, Iris was pretty sure the other arm was broken. "Please. Don't. Not now, please." |

The introduction of a Barry who doesn’t have the strength, mental or physical, to withstand the usual agony of healing his injuries is what makes this story so unique. Pennflinn goes on to spend time focusing on Barry’s struggle with the pain, his ability to hold it together deteriorating moment by moment.

[ Laws of Motion ]

| She pried the pieces from his upper back first, and quickly, so Iris and Cisco could plant their hands on Barry's shoulders and hold him down while he thrashed, screamed, begged, sobbed. |

Credit where credit is due to a moment of weakness written sharply yet precisely as Pennflinn makes the decision to capture Barry’s pain in short, gut-punching words.

Comfort is later found in the source of Barry’s lightning rod, Iris West. After giving him as much time as she felt she could, she goes to find him in one of the bathrooms in the deepest part of STAR Labs.

[ Laws of Motion ]

| Barry was facing away from her, and even though he was in front of a mirror, he didn't see her—his head was bowed over the sink, his working hand planted on the side and shoulders hunched. The way his spine curved reminded Iris of how he'd looked when he'd been uncovered from the rubble. Arched over the little girl, bracing against whatever might bear down on them both, getting crushed beneath the weight of a building. A loose shirt covered the damage: the stitches, the layers of gauze, the deep red bruises, the cast that encased his shattered arm.

In the ten seconds Iris waited in the doorway, he didn't move an inch, not even when she gave a light knock. It was only when she stepped into the room itself, her heels too loud on the tile, that Barry stirred. She knew better than to touch him, especially not without warning, especially not now. The physical wounds on his back were one thing, but she knew from hard past experience that they were only part of the unconscious touch aversion in situations like these.

"Barry?" she whispered, venturing to break the ice that way instead.

At this, he lifted his head and met her eyes in the mirror.

The lower lids of his eyes were pink, and his whole face sagged. He met her gaze with desolation, misery, a pleading look that said, I don't want to do this anymore.

Without a word, Iris moved forward. She reached out a hand tentatively. He allowed her to place it on his shoulder, her touch light. His face didn't crumple, exactly, but it wilted deeper into defeat. His breath shuddered under her palm, and she softened. |

The clarity of imagery here is worth noting and while never caught properly on the show, I would pay to see this recreated by an artist. Iris’s ability to wordlessly comfort Barry in his weakest moments, free of any judgement or disgust, is beautifully written here.

It’s not long after that Barry disappears, seemingly stuck in his own head.

[ Laws of Motion ]

| He picked up on the fourth ring, just when Iris was beginning to wonder if he'd left his phone behind as well.

"Iris."

"Hey," she replied. All at once she was very aware that she had no idea what she intended to say. "I just woke up. Are you alright?"

"Taking a break." Barry's voice sizzled, popped, through the phone line. "Might be a couple days. Don't worry."

He hung up before Iris could confirm that she was worrying, despite anything he said to the contrary. She held the phone up to her ear still, listening to the dead air.

It was only later that she'd see the international charges tacked on to her phone bill, a twenty-second call at 5:45 in the morning. |

His return is met with doubt, capturing a side to the hero often not seen. The strong, brass, brave Flash is suddenly exposed in the presence of his loved one, stating his nearing approach to a breaking point.

[ Laws of Motion ]

| After the meta had been safely locked away, Barry sat alone for a long while in the recovery bay, elbows up on the cot, face buried in his hands.

"I can't do it," he'd said when Iris had sat beside him. Even under her light questioning, he hadn't said a word more, and eventually she'd let him be.

That evening in the apartment, Iris kept the evening news on low while Barry made dinner. It was part of her nightly routine, practically required given her choice of profession. Tonight, she tuned out most of the national news, the breaking stories, in favor of listening to Barry putter about the kitchen. Steam whistled from a pot, a knife thunked against a cutting board, a can opener ground dully against metal.

The latter part of the newscast, near the end of the broadcast, was what caught her attention. Not because of what they were saying, but by what they were showing. Images of the ruined apartment building, the few piles of rubble that still remained.

Throwing a glance over her shoulder to ensure that Barry was busy, she turned up the volume a few clicks.

"…still missing, following an evacuation by Vibe. Vibe has since ignored our request for comment. With us tonight we have a very special guest in the studio. Six-year-old Grace Parks was shielded from the falling building by the Flash, and she has a message for him tonight. Grace?"

Grace Parks, round-faced and pink-cheeked and so vibrantly alive that only a six-year-old could be, faced the camera. She wore an earnest expression as she studied the camera lens, no doubt never having anticipated appearing on the news.

"I just wanna say," she began in her squeaky voice, "that Flash told me I was gonna be okay and now I'm okay. And I hope he's okay, too. I miss him." She glanced furtively off to the side, as if looking for confirmation that she was doing well. When she turned back, the corners of her mouth were downturned slightly. "Flash, if you're listening, I miss you. Thank you for saving me. You're my hero. And I wanted to say that. Thank you."

The feed cut back to the two news anchors, one of which was nodding sympathetically. "No doubt we all feel the same as little Grace—"

Some sixth sense caused Iris to angle her face back, and she was shocked to find Barry standing behind the couch, fixated on the TV. She quickly punched the mute button on the remote. |

Barry’s struggle between his own physical well being and the well being of others is so well detailed in the story, if not profoundly stated in the scene that follows.

[ Laws of Motion ]

| Once, when they were kids, Iris had accidentally knocked over Barry's Lego Star Destroyer and sent hundreds of tiny pieces skittering across the floor. Through her tears, she'd apologized over and over, feeling she'd destroyed something precious, something that could never be put back together. But it can, Barry had told her. Staring at the seemingly infinite number of broken parts peppering the bedroom floor, Iris had asked How? And Barry had smiled reassuringly: One block at a time. |

The story concludes as Barry aka the Flash goes to spend his time rebuilding the building that collapsed, inspired by the little girl he saved and returning her home to her.

Favorite Aspects:

[ Laws of Motion ] holds a side of Barry Allen that I have yet to see in any other written works. It seizes a side of weakness to his character without over-saturating the emotions. The blip of tears, cries, struggle and agony are all believable if not as well executed as Grant Gustins performance of Barry Allen within the show.

With his friends and family lending support, as well as all of Central City, he moves forward past another physically demanding injury with the mere words of, “tell me where I can go next.", exquisitely if not perfectly capturing the true essence of the the Flash.

#flash #barry allen #cisco ramon #caitlin snow #cw #whump #fanfiction

14 notes · View notes

endoftheroad1983 · 6 years

Text

The Trouble with Steve pt 4

Y/N now found herself sitting on a train heading towards Starling City. Her stomach rumble as she tried to settle it with a bag of peanuts. Tony always had perfect timing on sending someone on a mission. She was a little over half way there and she could swear that there was someone on this train that had pizza. Which brought her back to the small bag of peanuts and an angry stomach. She thought back on Steve, he had protest that she should eat first. The thought made Y/N heart flutter like butterflies. But Tony refuse to listen. The reason was that Tony needed Y/N to retrieve a dangerous subsidence that Oliver and his team had discovered. It was going to be an over night trip with dinner. Easy Peasy.

Expect for now, the pizza smell was getting stronger. Y/N tried to ignore it but her stomach wouldn't have it. She tried watching the trees fly by her. Her thoughts drift back to Steve's weird mood switch. He was acting like nothing had happen between them. Nat had comment on it as well. She was now torn about her feelings for him. The mix signals she was getting from him was driving her nuts.

“Pardon me, is this seat taken?” A voice broke her from her thought. Instantly she wanted to say yes. They had the whole train to themselves why would they want to sit here?

“No, it's free.” She spoke up when Steve slid into the seat in front of her.

“Hello Y/N, happy to see me.” He chuckle a bit. Y/N sat up and look around. Only another male passenger was on board.

“I'm shock as hell actually. What are you doing here?” Y/N sat back down and regain her through process.

“Tony sent me as back up.” Y/N mouth dropped open.

“He did what?” Why didn't Tony let her know? She was pretty sure that this was a solo mission.

“Is that a problem?” A shadow of worry appeared in his eyes. Y/N shook off her shockness.

“Not at all, just you caught me off guard and Tony never said anything.” She laugh at his puppy sad eyes and toss the empty peanut bag in the trash.

“Well I had to bring you this.” Y/N hadn't noticed the container he was holding. He open it to reveal two slices of pizza and then hand it to her.

“Where did you score pizza?” Steve laugh as Y/N took a small bite.

“At the train station, there was a food cart.” Now Y/N was really puzzled.

“Wait, you were at the train station with me? Why did you wait till now to show yourself?” Steve smile. He knew you were a very curious person.

“Tony didn't want anyone to see us entering together in case you are followed. I will be watching your back.” Now that made sense. Y/N began to ease into her chair it was nice riding along side Steve.

Before Y/N want it to end, Steve had to leave. He wished her luck and would met up with her when he could. She nodded and thank him for the pizza, once he was gone it was time for Y/N to change. Fifteen minutes later the train pulled to a slow stop. The whistle blew and Y/N stood up and stretched. It was a quarter till seven and she was right on time.

As she stepped off the train she was greeted by Oliver.

“Y/N!” She turn and look at him. He was dress up in a nice black suit with a green tie. Y/N eyes lit up.

“Oliver! I thought we were going to met at the restaurant!” She beam back. The plan was going smoothly.

“What?! I would never let a beautiful woman walk these streets alone.” He gush. The two embrace.

“You look so beautiful Y/N!” He gush over her dark blue dress.

“Why your looking as handsome as ever.” Oliver lend in for a kiss on her cheek. While doing so he slipped the tiny vile into her coat pocket.

“Shall we then?” Oliver offered his arm to her and the two headed towards his limo.

Now Oliver and Y/N sat across each other at a very fine restaurant. It was a little over the top for Y/N.

“Wow you really know how to go all out just for a small date.” She tease him as she took a sip of water. A genuine smile flash over his face.

“Yes, well I like to treat all my dates with great detail.” The two share a laugh. Acting through this fake date was going to be easier then Y/N thought. The waiter arrive and Oliver took over.

“Do you mind? Tony told me that your a bit of a foodie.” Oliver looked over to her.

“By all means, Mr. Queen, surprise me.” She beamed back at him.

“Absolutely Ms. Y/L/N.” He then spoke French to the waiter.

The food was amazing and the wine was to die for. Y/N praise him for his choices. Oliver had told her that his father had impeccable taste for food and wine. Y/N reveal that her parents kept to the basic dinners growing up. It was easy to find simple things to talk to him about.

The two strolled through the park to where the theatre was. Oliver was taking her to a midnight Mattie. Y/N was looking forward to it and besides, she just couldn't show up for dinner and then head back on a train right afterwards. It would look to suspicious. But half way through the first movie Oliver got called away. He apologies over and over in front of the theatre and promised her a make up date at a later time. Y/N held her confused look and agreed to the next date.

“Do you need me to call a cab?” He asked.

“Oh no my hotel is just around the corner. Till next time Mr. Queen.” Y/N cruise to him and a sneaky smile appeared on her lips. She knew he had work to do and that he wouldn't be calling her for another date unless something big came up. She could see in his body language that he was a loner type guy.

“Yes, Till then.” And with that Oliver disappear into the shadows of his city. Y/N waited for a moment and took the scenery in. A lot of people where out and about this evening. She ponder about another walk through the park but opt for heading to the hotel. She was wondering if Steve had made it there before her.

The hallway down to her room was bright and quiet. She assume that there wasn't a lot of other guests stay in tonight. She slid the card key in the slot and wait for the lock to open. Once inside she scan the room. No sign of Steve yet, so she took advantage of it and called room service before jumping into the shower. Upon entering the living space again she was greeted with a sober looking Steve. He was sitting at the desk.

“Great timing, Sir!” She beam as there was a knock on the door. Steve immediately flew up to his feet and was ready for action.

“I order room services.” He relax and stepped away from the view of the door. Y/N took the basket out of his hand and tip the boy. Once he was gone Steve come back into view.

“Why Steve, it's so romantic in here with all the curtain’s shut.” She tease. Y/N knew she caught him off guard with her joke.

“It's for security reasons.” He stumble over his words.

“Ah, well I order the wine anyway.” She pull out the red port and two wine glasses. She fill them up passing one of them to him.

“To a successful evening.” She announce happily only to see Steve wasn't feeling the mood. She brushed it aside. If something was bothering him then he had all night to say something.

“So you up for a movie?”

“What about Oliver Queen?” He question, not giving Y/N any clues to what it was about.

“And?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Are you two suppose to meet up again?” He was looking at his hands. Maybe Nat was right. He was getting jealous.

“Not unless something goes sour. But I don't see that happening since we were a success with the date.” Steve eyes shut at the word date. It was like he didn't know what kind of plan this was. Surely Tony would have filled him in, besides he did find the hotel just fine.

“Beside I’m not a go out all night every night kind of party girl. So you wanna watch a movie?” She flick on the TV and hunted down the movie list. Steve's mood switch again and he seem up to it. So for the rest of the night Steve and Y/N choose two movie to watch together. It was something that Y/N was hoping that would happen for a long time.

When Y/N woke in the morning she took note that Steve was already gone. She didn't worry about it though. He probably left in the darkness of the morning. She remember she was suppose to be alone on this trip. There was not much to do but enjoy a beautiful morning on her hotel room balcony. She was left alone with her thoughts. Which were mainly on her and Steve last night. A flash of heat embossed in her cheeks. Things were starting to look better for them. She muse on that thought with a smile. After a hearty breakfast and a stroll through the park. Y/N return to the train station. The train was just pulling into the station and Y/N couldn't believe her luck. Now she was closer to getting home without the long wait for the train.

Y/N kept her eyes on the window. There were a few more people on the train then there was last night and she had to keep herself from scanning around for any signs of Steve. The four hour ride was going to be tortures against her patients. The drink she order arrived earlier then what she expect. It was also brought to her by another stewardess. First red flag, she noted. Then two men had taken seats a few rows ahead of her caught her attention. Well if that isn't a big red flag there. She thought to herself. She promptly sat the drink down.

“Is everything alright Miss?” The stewardess asked.

“Would there be a problem if I ask for a drink that wasn't poisoned?” Y/N ask in a nonchalant voice. The two men were getting out of theirs seats and Y/N could feel two more coming up behind her.

“Yea that's what I thought.” She could never catch a break.

to be continued....

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america #captain america x reader #captian america fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines

12 notes · View notes