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nancypullen · 5 months

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A Day Off

Hallelujah! What a perfect day. I worked until six o'clock on Wednesday and practically danced out of the library. I have been rotating between the information desk and the circulation desk and the good citizens of this county have worn me out. The last several days have been a bit wonky. There were ten thousand calls asking if we have free eclipse glasses -we didn't, but could direct you to a place that does and/or provide instructions for making your own viewer out of a cereal box and aluminum foil. There was an event giving away free laptops to qualifying residents that was like the last flight out of Saigon. In the words of an unflappable coworker, "There was chaos in every corner of the building." Don't even get me started about Mercury being in retrograde. Like I said, wonky. Saturday was actually quite nice because it was opening day for Little League and there was a parade down Market Street with plenty of cute kids. When I arrived home on Saturday the Edgewater gang showed up and we celebrated Mr. Pullen's birthday. Jamie and I convinced the fellas to accompany us to a greenhouse to hunt for some plants, a greenhouse that the grandgirl said was "in the middle of nowhere". She wasn't wrong. We came home with lots of lovelies for the gardens, a successful trip! This is my favorite picture snapped over the weekend. Tyler and Jamie in a chess battle on the front porch. Never say it's not exciting around here.

I was back to work on Monday (eclipse day) for three busy days, and now I'm free! We delayed our trip to Lancaster for a day to let the bad weather blow through, so we'll leave in the morning, stay over Friday night, and come home later on Saturday. I'm anticipating some fun. Speaking of fun, here's another photo I loved. I'm pretty sure that I'm allowed to post this because she's masked. No one could ever identify her from this photo (and I've been good for six years). I'll delete if they ask. Anyway, this is our little miss on Monday. Isn't it cute pic?

Fast forward to today and I've shed all of the work nonsense and I'm feeling quite content. I spent the entire morning weeding and preparing flower beds, then planting some of the pretties that I picked up at Ball Greenhouses last week. I know I'm early, but these are hardy girls. If Mother Nature turns fickle I'll just be the crazy lady running around tossing sheets over gardens. Wouldn't be the first time. It's a small price to pay for the happiness of today. Working the dirt and dreaming of the blooms to come was good for my soul. I needed this day. Another little something that has recently delighted me is this stuff.

Because I'm at work for nine hours, I have recently become addicted to sugary, fattening, fancy coffee drinks. I'd zip through Starbucks on my lunch break and pick up an iced caramel macchiato , then I started buying the bottles at the grocery store and filling my big sippy cup (that I normally use for water) in the mornings. I was adding way too many calories to my day. So, I searched for a healthier replacement drink that would still give me the boost - and I found it! I'm not on Atkins or Keto or any of those diets, but I definitely appreciate the low sugar/carb count. This protein shake has the same amount of caffeine as a cup of coffee, with added protein and fiber. It's a win! I can have this for breakfast and feel no guilt. Getcha' some! This post is sort of all over the place, sorry about that. I don't have a lot to say and I didn't sit down with a plan. I just opened my laptop and wanted to say hi. I do miss having more time to spend being silly here. The older I get the less I care about being silly. Look at these cool sunglasses I bought in a little shop in Chestertown. Silly for a woman my age? Yes. Do I care? Absolutely not.

I just notice that my name tag for work is all jacked up by my seatbelt. Hope I straightened that out once I got there, but I don't remember doing it. Oops. Several of you have asked about whether or not I'm enjoying my job. It's complicated. I've mentioned my lovely coworkers, I've mentioned that I'm having fun doing the displays, there are plenty of positives. I'm trying to focus on what I have gained and not what I have lost. I do miss having time for hobbies, doing more than work, eat, sleep, repeat. Of course, as I type this I'm looking ahead to three days off - wonderful! The 16th will mark three months in my position, so I do feel I've given it a fair shake...and I just don't know. I'm really pouring a lot of energy, creativity, and effort into this job and I do feel that it's appreciated. They are very nice to me and pay me adequately. I'm just undecided if it's a fair trade for my freedom. I mostly talk about the fun parts, the nice parts, but there are also the not-so-fun parts. A surprising number of books are returned with bed bugs. We have two large "stink boxes" that are usually full of books returned that reek of everything from cigarette smoke, pot, or just general funk. They sit in there with charcoal rocks until they're bearable. Lots of people are rude, really rude. I got used to that when I was in the airline industry, but it doesn't make it any more pleasant. I could go on, couldn't we all? No job is ever perfect, and in the past I tolerated the unpleasant aspects because I had no choice. I don't have to do that anymore. I've been asked to take on some summer programming work - fun activities with kids, outreach booths at festivals, that sort of thing. I'm looking forward to that, and it's been a while since I've had things to look forward to. Well, that's not true. I've had loads of fun family stuff that happened and even a trip to Ireland in the last year, but as far as having something that gives me a chance to actually use my brain and any meager talents I have - this is the first chance since we left Tennessee. I just wish it wasn't so exhausting. Is that just me being sixty? It's kind of funny that I'm twenty to thirty years older than nearly everyone I work with, but they're all so tired. I don't want to scare them about getting older, but I feel like I should drop hints like, "I hope you like ibuprofen..." or "Enjoy those cute shoes while you can..." Honestly, I work circles around most of them, and I shouldn't. Where is their energy? I have to admit that when I'm shelving, and for some reason all of our shelves have books at floor level (why??), it is not fun getting up and down. I actually love shelving because the more books I touch the more familiar I am with the collection, but that bottom shelf will be the death of me. I snapped this picture last week when I was processing books. Some were going out to other libraries, some had been requested locally and were going on our hold shelf, some were being checked in and returned to our shelves.

That back wall is my work area. To the left you can see some of the 50+ craft bags that I assembled to go home with our little visitors. I love those. They have all of the supplies and instructions needed to complete a small craft. To the right of the craft bags are a couple of shelves of books pulled for mending or labeling. Under the desk are the infamous stink boxes. I wish they'd let me decorate this work room. It needs color and art. It should be pretty. Pretty isn't very important around here. That's definitely something I miss about the south. I put a little bit of the south into one of my small displays. We have a good collection of cookbooks here, so I grabbed a tablecloth and sign from our house, and voila!

This hardly counts as a display - just two pieces of decor and some books, but it's working - people are checking out cookbooks! I swap them out every couple of days to keep it interesting. Here's another little bit of nothing - just pillow stuffing glued to cardstock for clouds, the raindrops are cardstock and string. Rainy Day Reads!

See what I mean? None of it is great (I have no budget!) but it's the fun part. So much of the rest is exhausting. They're advertising for a couple of new positions, so maybe if they find the right people I could work fewer hours. If that were the case I could do this for a long time. I'm already cooking up some fun ideas for May. I have my book lists ready and one display will definitely be "Once Upon a Crime..." complete with crime scene tape and a chalk body outline on the floor (actually white painters tape). I may do a Sci-Fi display with an alien saying, "Take me to your reader." We have a huge biography section though, so I probably should use those instead. I could make a giant name tag, like the ol' "Hello, my name is______" that we've all had to wear at some point. I could put up a sign that says Meet someone new, try a biography and put out a variety of interesting people - founding fathers to modern musicians, CoCo Chanel to Sally Ride. Anywho, just letting those ideas rattle around in my brain. I'll figure it out. Wow, I've rambled far too long and it's all disjointed and kooky. I guess I was overdue for a visit here. I'm happy today because I'm home. I hope that you're happy too, or at least on your way to being happy. I suppose we all have to figure out what that means for us, and where it is for us. I know it's not on that damn bottom shelf at the library.

The mister is turning off lights and heading for bed, so I guess that's my cue. We'll run off to Lancaster in the morning so I'll be back on Sunday to share a bit of that with you. It may be nothing but Amish buggies in the rain, but I have a feeling we'll find some fun. If you've made it all the way to the end of this snoozefest of a post, give yourself a cookie. You deserve it. Consider yourself hugged. Stay tuned for the Griswolds' adventures in Pennsylvania Dutch country! Until then, stay safe, stay well, and know how very much I've missed you. XOXO, Nancy

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miekasa · 3 years

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okay but what about airport!levi? he gives quiet businessman vibes sitting in his slacks and turtleneck

IN HIS TURTLENECK 😭😭 He would also be quiet and to himself, but not in the emo way. You got me thinking about all of them now, so here are my other thoughts about the boys at the airport.

Levi

He thinks the idea of separating classes on an airplane is beyond stupid, but if the flight is particularly long, or particularly packed, he’s not above paying for business class for a little extra personal space for the two of you.

When he doesn’t do that, tho, he never picks your guys’ seats ahead of time, so sometimes you’ll be separated. Good thing he’s also not above lying at the check-in desk, “I’m in Zone 1, could my wife be seated next to me so that we can board together?”

They respond with an “of course,” and move your seats together, and Levi walks back with a content nod of appreciation. You are not married, and marriage sucks about as much as class separation on a 30 foot long plane, but it has its benefits.

Masks on, regardless. No debates. Pandemic or not, the mask stays on. Do not perceive him, keep the pressurized air sharing to a minimum.

Doesn’t wander much in the airport. There’s nothing in there that he hasn’t seen already, except for the marked up prices on touristy t-shirts.

And if you wander, he’ll usually just sit in the waiting area to watch your bags while you window shop and do your thing. If you’re gone for more than 30 mins, he might call, under the pretenses of, “Making sure you didn’t get lost. You know that Starbucks was near gate 41 to the left, not the right, right?” Like he’s a comedian or something 🙄

He does encourage you to get snacks before you board, tho. Airplane food is gross, and he would much rather pay for a $13 sandwich that you can snack on later, than for you to have to eat mush.

He’s got a little portable mug he takes with him for when he’s wants to buy a hot drink before getting on his flight. It’s cute.

Doesn’t fall asleep on the plane ever. No matter how long the flight is—at most, he’ll take a quick power nap somewhere in the middle if it’s over 9 hours, but other than that, he’s good to go.

Doesn’t mind if you fall asleep, and he always adjusts your neck pillow to make sure you don’t get cramps.

Jean

Travel champion. This man loves being in the airport even though he’s convinced it’s a time capsule, he fucking loves it.

King of “your airport fashion matters, babe.” Not necessarily wearing a whole three piece suit, but he does put in a little effort; it’s not just the first pair of sweats he has laying around.

Swears coffee tastes better in the airport. It does not. That does not stop him from buying it. He should learn to quit tho, especially for someone who hates airplane bathrooms as much as he does.

Charming with all the security personnel and desk assistants. You could be checking in for a flight at 4am, and Jean’s got people smiling and cheery for their shifts.

Bitches about the selection of movies on the flight, and learns to just download his own ahead of time. Gets really startled when he’s watching something and the flight attendants try to grab his attention for food or drinks—the very loud, classic, Jean Kirstein “HUH?”

On that note, he also gets startled by the loudspeaker announcements in the airport. He doesn’t know why he has to hear about American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun, when he is not on American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun.

Not opposed to paying extra for better airplane food or drinks on the plane if it’s the right time of day. He always finds something to toast to, plus he likes to treat you whenever and wherever he can.

Takes care of your overhead luggage and helps out the people around him if he sees they’re struggling. Gets shy when you call him a gentleman for it, and he rubs his neck, grumbling, “I was just helping the line move a little faster.”

Great timing, generous, will pick up your checked bags for you, and already rented a car a week in advance: 10/10 travel buddy.

Porco

He doesn’t like planes and there’s no solid reason why—nothing bad happened to him as a kid, and it’s not even that rare unfortunate incidents freak him out or anything—something flying just makes him a bit uneasy.

He won’t say it though, and he tries to keep it together when you’re checking in, but you can tell he’s anxious once you’re sitting and waiting for your flight to board.

He’ll ask to switch seats if you have the window seat, because somehow the feeling of being boxed in between the plane wall/window and another person makes it feel more like a car than a plane and he’s okay with that.

Going to the airport is one of the few times he hair won’t be styled, and falls in his face a bit. He usually throws on a beanie to cover it up, but you think he looks pretty cute either way.

Can’t usually fall asleep and he hates it because he just sits there thinking about the worst for the entire duration of the flight. But when you travel with him for the first time and coax him into taking a nap it’s so much better.

It’s about the only time he’ll let himself be publicly babied by you; but it makes everything so much easier that he doesn’t even mind.

So now, whenever you get on flights, he just puts his hood up, lays his head on your shoulder and waits for the magic to happen.

Bonus: you’re traveling with his friends, and Pieck and Marcel past to your seats, surprised to see Porco fast asleep on your shoulder. Pieck squeals, going on about how you must be a wizard to have gotten him to nap, to which Marcel just shakes his head, “Nah, he’s just really in love with her. Look at his face, that’s the calmest he’s been since he was five.”

Connie

Loves the airport. Not an ounce of organization in his soul though. By that I mean, yeah, he’s probably forgotten his passport at home, or forgotten that a full size bottle of body wash cannot go into his carry-on luggage.

Forgets to wear shoes that easy to take off and is fumbling over himself after the security check trying to lace them back up or put them back on.

Likes for you guys to have coordinating sweatsuits, and even though you don’t travel super often, Connie’s got at least 3 pairs of them lined up for you guys.

Sweet enough to drop plans or rearrange his schedule to travel with you if you were originally gonna be alone. He knows you can handle yourself, but he doesn’t want for you to travel alone if you don’t have to, especially if you’re going someplace far and/or for an extended period of time.

He always finds breakfast food to eat before he gets on his flight (if you two even have time to spare for food that is). It could be 9pm, but Connie’s asking for a breakfast wrap.

Hates waiting in the little pre-flight area. Claims it’s boring as hell and that’s why there’s no reason to get there 3 hours early 🙄🙄

He always spends at least 30 minutes browsing all the movie and TV show options available on-board, loudly exclaiming in excitement when they have something cool to watch—only to fucking fall asleep 10 minutes later. Right on top of you when he was oh-so-excited to watch Madagascar 2.

Always steals the aisle seat, even if it’s yours. It’s probably for the best though, because he has to get up to pee at least twice, no matter how short your flight is.

Makes some cheeky remark about you meeting him in the bathroom. He doesn’t mean it... unless he does. Unfortunately, you’ve never... successfully been able to do that out of fear of being caught by the flight attendants, but there have been a few quickies in the “family” (“It’s ethical, because technically we’re participating in the act of making a family, babe”) bathroom before you boarded. It’s his fault, not yours.

Armin

He really likes planes, and traveling in general. I think trains would be his favorite mode of transportation, but airplanes are good too.

I hate to say it but he claps when the plane lands. I will not elaborate or defend my stance on this.

Prefers the window seat because he likes to look out at the clouds as he’s in the sky.

He took his passport photo a little before he cut his hair, so the security personnel always hold it up and flicker between his ID photo and his current appearance a few times before stamping it. It makes him a little embarrassed because he can’t tell if they think he looks better or worse and sometimes he’s really fighting for his life convincing them that that’s him in the picture 😭

Listens to music rather than downloading a movie or watching a show, and always brings wire headphones to the airport so that it’s easier to share and listen with you.

If you fall asleep on him first, he’ll likely fall asleep on you shortly after. If he’s tired enough, he’ll fall asleep first, though he’s somewhat embarrassed and disappointed because he wanted to see the descent and skyline outside.

When he’s not asleep or window-watching, he’s somewhat fidgety out of excitement, rather than nervousness. He’s excited to be traveling and looks forward to wherever you’re going, even if it is just a weekend long work trip.

Hates traveling alone, though. It just feels particularly lonely to him to be going someplace foreign without company by his side. So, he’ll call you at every checkpoint and send you updates.

He only ever buys two things in duty free: shot glasses with the name of the city/country you’re traveling to, and whatever variety of button down short-sleeves are available to him.

Erwin

You knew this was coming, but this man is absolutely at the airport 18 hours before your flight takes off, and he’s driving like a manic getting there, like you don’t have all the time in the world.

Fascinated by anything and everything in duty free. Definitely spends more money than necessary on your return flight on the grounds that he was getting a good deal.

Exchanges money in the airport and keeps cash in his fanny pack. There’s no traveling without the fanny pack.

Plays crossword puzzles on his phone on the plane, and it’s just about one of the only games he has. That and Candy Crush—I get the feeling he’d be on level 500+ of that game and he always knocks out at least 10 levels on a flight.

Always a little surprised when he feels his your head on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and acts like he didn’t even notice, but there’s a telling little smile on his face.

Takes the most foul selfies of him and your sleeping self. In his defense, he had the best intentions; but that angle was flattering nobody. It’s too bad he’d already paid for the in-flight wifi and sent it to Hange because now you’ll never live them down.

You could probably get him to put on a (skincare) face mask during your flight. He forgets to take it off tho, and if you don’t tell him, he’d fully walk through customs with it on his face.

Accidentally gets drunk because he doesn’t understand that just because he can handle several glasses of whiskey in his favorite bar on a Friday night, does not mean it will translate on a plane.

#anonymous #yeah this is a roast of erwin a bit but im right i know i am #aot x reader #levi x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #connie springer x reader #armin x reader #erwin x reader #porco x reader #aot headcanons

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ffamranxii · 3 years

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HAIKYUU!! COUPLES HEADCANONS

DAISUGA

-Daichi goes to the gym to work out. Suga goes to the gym to ogle Daichi

-Suga has a massive sweet tooth

-Daichi cooks, Suga cleans

-Suga is a little shit who is not above seducing Daichi in public. He can say the most lewd things without batting an eye while Daichi blushes furiously

-Daichi and Kuroo once hooked up at training camp. They do not talk about it

-Daichi is good friends with Michimiya and Kiyoko. Suga is closer to Asahi

-Daisuga rarely fight and are often asked for relationship advice. Daichi tries to discourage this because “guys I didn’t realize Yui had a crush on me or that Suga was in love with me for three years.”

-Daichi can’t dance, won’t dance, and refuses to acknowledge the time he got trashed and twerked

-Suga dislikes his given name unless it’s said by Daichi, who is the only person allowed to call him Koushi

-Suga is extremely flexible. Daichi is not.

-Daichi or Suga getting hit on makes Daichi uncomfortable. Getting hit on amuses Suga, and Daichi getting hit on makes him horny

-It took all of high school for Daisuga to get together, because Daichi is oblivious and Suga assumed Daichi wasn’t into him. Daichi’s dumbness and their mutual pining becomes a fond, shared joke several years later

-Daichi has no gag reflex.

-Daisuga have a very fat, very orange cat named Ninja. He’s surprisingly fast and agile despite looking like a furry basketball. (Daichi is a dog person and did not even want Ninja at first. He suspects Kuroo had something to do with this. Suga sometimes playfully gets upset because “Ninja likes you better than me, Dai!”)

-Everyone expects Suga to be the dominant one but Suga is more than willing to be submissive for Daichi and has on several occasions

ASANOYA

-Noya gets up before sunrise to run. Asahi would rather die than leave his bed before 8am

-Noya turns the coffee pot on and cooks breakfast to lure Asahi out of bed

-Noya is surprisingly patient, gentle, quiet, and kind when it comes to Asahi and his insecurities

-Noya is the type to bottle his insecurities and fears until they explode. The only one who can calm him back down is Asahi

-Asahi makes bratty faces when he thinks Noya isn’t looking

-Noya and Tanaka spend a lot of time with Daisuga because of the Daichi&Suga&Asahi&Kiyoko friendship. Asahi and Ennoshita become good friends

-Asahi doesn’t understand the distance between Noya and his sisters because Asahi is very close to his

-It is impossible to embarrass Noya

-Asahi gets a lot of inspiration for his fashion designs from traveling with Noya

-Noya knows how to braid hair and likes to play with Asahi’s

-Asahi enjoys physical affection but dislikes overt PDA. Noya would happily climb Asahi like a tree in public if Asahi would let him

-Only Asahi calls Noya by his given name

-Noya knows he likes Asahi early on but Asahi’s panic (“omg someone LIKES me?? NOYA likes me?? My crush??”) at his confession prevent them getting together until after the Date Tech match (after Asahi rejoins the team).

-Noya is affected by wanderlust and that’s why he travels. Sometimes Asahi joins him. They get married in Canada during one of these trips. (I once read a fantastic asanoya fic where a significant event happened in Canada so Canada is my asanoya place now)

-Noya sends Asahi a postcard from every place he’s ever visited. Sometimes he’ll spend over half an hour trying to find the *best* one, only to buy them all and send them as a sort of big long letter. Asahi saves them all in a photo album that lives on the coffee table. (Some people have a coffee table book, Asahi has a photo album.)

-Noya prefers to top. The one thing he’s really uncomfortable with is being on the bottom (physically laying beneath someone and also sex).

KUROKEN

-Kuroken have a black cat and a calico and enjoy naps on the couch with the kitties. Kuroo has SO MANY pictures in his phone of Kenma curled around the kitties.

-Kuroo: “Love you.” Kenma: “Hate you.”

-Kenma CAN cook, but likes that Kuroo likes taking care of him

-Every game Kuroo has ever owned is multiplayer because he only games with Kenma

-Kenma’s favorite games involve critical thinking and puzzles. Kuroo enjoys watching him play

-Kuroo is an introvert masquerading as an extrovert. Kenma is an introvert. They enjoy quiet nights in.

-Kuroo has anxiety. Kenma always knows when Kuroo is anxious and how to fix it

-People make Kenma anxious. Kuroo makes himself anxious.

-Kenma’s nicknames for Kuroo are Kuro and Koroemon. Kuroo calls Kenma Kyanma and kitten

-Kuroo has been in love with Kenma for as long as he can remember, since they were kids. Kenma knows this, but doesn’t understand he feels the same way until Kuroo goes off to college

-Kuroo is the one who discovered Daichi’s lack of gag reflex. He’s delighted to learn that Kenma lacks one as well

-Kenma moves more slowly than Kuroo. He’s not as comfortable with physical affection and sex as Kuroo is. Their relationship progresses slowly, and Kuroo lets Kenma lead.

-After Kenma’s confession, how he feels about Kuroo is one of the very few things Kuroo does not doubt or make himself anxious over.

-Kuroo can, will, and has go(ne) on and on and ON about Kenma until someone shuts him up. It drives Yaku up the fucking wall in high school.

-Kenma does a retro game stream once or twice a month made up of games he and Kuroo used to play as kids. Kuroo actually games with him on those days and Kenma’s followers are quick to notice and speculate because Kenma has literally never gamed with another person in the same room before. Sometimes Kenma can only post the actual gameplay because Kuroo ruined the footage of them by being excessively sappy. (Kuroo is NOT above flirting and dirty talk to get an edge and Kenma doesn’t really think his fans need to know that.)

-Kuroken do not talk about Kuroo’s mom or sister

-The Kozumes love “Tetsu-chan” and Kuroo’s grandparents adore Kenma. Kuroken get along with each other’s families better than they do their own.

-Kuroo is tactile. He’s that ass-slapping friend. Kenma thinks he’s ridiculous

-Kuroo used to be dislike Hinata, because Kenma and Hinata are extremely good friends and Kuroo was afraid Hinata would take Kenma away from him. Kenma has assured him he doesn’t like Hinata like that but Kuroo doesn’t warm up until Hinata starts dating Kageyama

BOKUAKA

-Akaashi is 100% in charge of the house and the financials and his word is law. Not because he’s an asshole but because Bokuto is whipped

-Akaashi is a screamer. Bokuto has a big dick.

-Bokuto is the calmest between him and his sisters. His sisters have formed an Akaashi fanclub

-Bokuaka kiss a lot during sex

-Bokuto fucking loves owls

-Akaashi used to be embarrassed over being a manga editor but Bokuto thinks it’s the coolest job ever, “even better than mine!” When his authors need references, Akaashi sends them pictures of Bokuto. Bokuto takes this responsibility very seriously

-Bokuaka exclusively refer to each other by first name but Akaashi can’t break the habit of using -san

-Akaashi and Kenma are very good friends. Bokuto thinks they might even be better bros than him and Kuroo. (Kenma is one of the few people Akaashi calls by first name, and one of the only people who calls Akaashi by his.)

-Akaashi overthinks as a result of anxiety, but he doesn’t think he has anxiety. He prefers to call it “seeing the issue from all sides”

-Akaashi and Bokuto do yoga together. Bokuto behaves himself surprisingly well around Akaashi in yoga pants

-Akaashi decided to attend Fukurodani after watching Bokuto play and literally for no other reason

-Bokuaka are the embodiment of love at first sight and their relationship has an unreal, almost storybook quality to it because they are literally perfect for each other. Because of this, Bokuto doesn’t understand why other people struggle so much to start and maintain a relationship, no matter how many times Kuroo tells him “just because your relationship is straight out of a movie doesn’t mean the rest of the world works like that”

-Bokuaka have a koi pond in their backyard and have named all the fish. Bokuto always asks about them when he’s away for games

IWAOI

-Iwaizumi cooks and cleans because he’s always been the one taking care of Oikawa, but he refuses to fold the laundry because “I’m not doing everything for you, you fucking freeloader”

-Iwaizumi cooks healthy “old man food.” Oikawa’s sweet tooth suffers

-Oikawa is that guy who puts more cream and sugar and other additives in his coffee than actual coffee. He’s tried all of Starbucks’ seasonal drinks and never gets the same thing twice

-Iwaoi have very heated arguments about if Godzilla can kick King Kong’s ass or not. Iwaizumi of course sides with Godzilla

-Iwaoi once fought about the original purpose of Stonehenge and now no one can mention England without it coming back up

-Oikawa only became comfortable with his glasses because Iwaizumi likes them

-Iwaoi have been friends since they were in diapers. The whole volleyball team took bets on when they’d announce their relationship

-Both the Oikawas and the Iwaizumis respond when either boy calls for mom or dad. Oikawa calls his sister Nee-chan while Iwaizumi says Oneesan

-Iwaizumi’s favorite of Oikawa’s features is his legs. Oikawa is in love with Iwa’s arms

-Neither of them can remember when they started liking each other or how their relationship started

-Iwaoi are shockingly codependent and do NOT do separation (during university in Argentina/California or for away games) well

-Deep down Oikawa is extremely insecure and worries he isn’t enough - in volleyball, in school, in his family, in his relationship. Iwaizumi always knows when he’s putting on a front and how to cheer him back up

-Iwaizumi is secretly so soft and weak for Oikawa

-After the Olympics Iwaizumi moves to Argentina to be with Oikawa and they get married. They move back to Japan after Oikawa retires from volleyball and after gay marriage becomes legal there

-Oikawa keeps various plants around the house and the patio and is extremely proud of them. He paints all their pots and even names some of them (which Iwaizumi thinks is disgustingly cute). His most prized plant is a lucky bamboo he bought on a whim when iwaoi first moved in together.

-Oikawa can’t deepthroat. It makes him so jealous that Iwaizumi can

-Iwaizumi blushes whenever Oikawa gives him a genuine compliment

-Iwaizumi has a praise kink. Oikawa has a “whatever comes out of Iwa’s mouth” kink

-Iwaizumi has dom tendencies.

#haikyuu #headcanons #daisuga #asanoya #kuroken #bokuaka #iwaoi #updated it #sawamura daichi #sugawara koushi #azumane asahi #nishinoya yuu #kozume kenma #kuroo tetsurou #bokuto koutaru #akaashi keiji #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru

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we-are-inevitable · 3 years

Note

babes,,,,,

imagine recovering addict jack kelly listening to tennessee whiskey by chris stapleton,,,,,

and it dawning on him that that’s how he feels about davey. pls i’m gonna cry i cant do this today-

bestie i might have to write this. i think i'm going to write this. i'm gonna write this

HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT.

TW: alcoholism, drug mention, withdrawal mention

first: let's establish the whole Jack situation.

just because of the content, i'm gonna say jack and davey meet when jack is about twenty-three; he's been able to legally drink for two years, but he's been going hard since he was about... fifteen.

rough home life. no parental support. barely any friends, save for a few scattered across New York City from foster home after foster home.

at his new foster home though, Jack falls in with the wrong crowd. they fight. drink. smoke. some do drugs- mostly weed, but sometimes other things- and jack follows in their footsteps, for the most part.

he doesn't touch any drug harder than weed, but that's okay, because Jack has alcohol. Jack doesn't need drugs to feel numb.

Jack's drinking starts out as just a fun little thing to do with friends, but by the time he's seventeen, he can barely stay sober for longer than two days without needing a drink, and it only worsens as the years continue to go by.

he doesn't go to college. he has a shitty apartment and a shitty job and he spends all of his money on alcohol and can barely afford rent but, hey, it's fine. it's fine! he's fine. everything is fine.

until a new customer comes into the little bodega that jack works at.

jack hasn't seen him around before. at least, he doesn't think so- his memory isn't that great usually, but he would remember a stunning guy like this, right? tall, olive skin, beautiful hazel eyes, a Roman nose, and dark wavy hair that's just this side of curly.

the guy buys something simple: a Starbucks coffee in one of the little refrigerated glass bottles, and a granola bar.

and he buys it the next morning.

and the morning after that.

finally, Jack talks to him on the fourth morning, because the guy comes in a bit earlier and there's no one in the store, so they talk for a little bit.

jack learns that the guy's name is David and that he just recently moved to an apartment down the street. he's twenty-three, like Jack, and is a first year teacher at a local high school.

"Good luck," Jack mentions. "That school is rough. Not a whole lotta student success stories."

"That's alright," David replies, "I like a challenge."

And a challenge he gets, because Jack asks David out about a month after their first conversation, because they talk almost every every morning. And Jack goes all in for the first date; a simple picnic in Central Park, because Jack can't really afford anything nicer, but he makes the food and he's actually sober for it and, yeah, he's a little bit shaky sometimes and, sure, maybe he's just a tad more erratic, but that's just because he's excited. right? that has to be it.

first date goes off without a hitch, and Jack goes to bed without a drink.

but it absolutely bites him in the ass the next morning.

he wakes in a cold sweat with the deepest feeling of dread he's EVER felt, deep within his chest. he's shaking. he feels nauseous. he can't think straight.

jack calls into work.

this behavior continues for the next month and a half. he makes himself be sober for David, he doesn't want David to see this, but as soon as he's alone, Jack gets drunk again, because the withdrawals after even just a few hours make him feel like he's going to die.

he's torn, because his relationship with David- who is now, by title, his boyfriend- is making him feel as good as the alcohol does, but the drinking still has a hold on him.

but for the first time, jack doesn't want it.

he takes a week off of work, gives david some lameass excuse about having a busy week, and holes himself up in his apartment- after throwing away all of the alcohol he has in his possession, even the expensive bottles.

and it fucking sucks. it's a week of absolute torture. he' shakes for hours on end, he feels sick constantly, he has raging headaches and he breaks down more times in the span of a week than he has in years.

when he goes back to work, he looks horrible- to the point of wanting to hide when David comes in.

"Jackie, are you... are you okay?" "Can we- can we talk when you get off?"

so jack and davey talk after davey gets off of work, and jack tells him everything. he doesn't look him in the eyes, but he tells him everything. about the underage drinking, the alcoholism, the withdrawals from trying to quit so suddenly, and he expects David to just walk out of his shitty apartment and leave him without so much as a warning.

but David stays, and David holds him, and David promises to be there every step of the way.

As far as Tennessee Whiskey goes, Jack hears it on the radio when he's been recovering for about a year. He physically has to pull over because of it; it hits harder than he thought it would, and he calls David as soon as it's done. David doesn't answer, obviously, because David is a good teacher, but Jack leaves a message.

"Hey, cielito, I know you're at work, but... thank you. Thank you for.. for everything. I love you. Talk to you later, babe."

that song is an immediate favorite, and, newsflash, it's one of the slow songs that plays at their wedding.

THIS IS ENTIRELY TOO LONG BUT OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS PROMPT AND I'M GONNA WRITE IT EVENTUALLY

#newsies #jack kelly #davey jacobs #david jacobs #javid #javey #livesies #newsies live #92sies #newsies 1992 #headcanons #newsies headcanons #jack newsies #davey newsies #newsies broadway #newsies musical #ask a jac !#chandler tag

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wandering-child-rp · 4 years

Note

For the mini fic: what about number 7 things you said while driving for E/C 💖💖

“Thanks for the lift. You didn’t have to. I could have gotten the bus.” Christine forced a smile onto her nervous face as Erik gripped the steering wheel a little harder. It was painful for him but he didn’t like the idea of Christine alone on public transport late at night.

The lights of the highway would bathe the saloon car into bright light every so often and gave them both some shadows to hide in. Christine put the lead in her stomach down to nerves.

“I don’t mind driving you. I know you’d do the same for me if I needed a favour.”

“Except I don’t have a car and I cannot drive.” Christine laughed, it was a one-sided friendship. It was strange really. He didn’t seem to have many friends and it was always Christine chasing him. Unless it was after a lesson because then Erik always had a fantastic dinner for her, a great bottle of wine and he was good company. There had been a while when Christine had developed a crush on him but it was never reciprocated. She’d given him a thousand opportunities and lingering a little longer than needed at the door waiting for a kiss that never came.

Her hands stretched over her thighs with a huff of air.

“Nervous?” Erik asked but desperately he didn’t want to hear Christine pour out her feelings about her new boyfriend. He hated the constant buzzing of her phone when they sat together or the way she’d smile and laugh at whatever was on that stupid screen.

��Yeah... a little. I wish he could have come back instead of me flying out to him.” Erik’s large hand landed onto Christine’s with a comforting squeeze.

“I know. It’s sad your missing the season opener.” In his heart of hearts, he wanted Christine to be sat next to him in the box. He wanted to twist the playbill in his hands over and over trying to pluck up the courage to slide his hand into hers. Exactly like it was now. His hazel eyes went wide and he whipped away the warmth all too suddenly leaving Christine confused again and feeling like an imposition.

It would have been nice to go with Erik. He was a gentleman truly. Yes, he was a little older than her but he was sweet and respectful. Meg kept saying it was just a crush on an older man who had that mysterious thing but Christine wasn’t so sure. She laughed at his clever jokes and dumb ones and could listen for hours to him play or dissect a film scene by scene. He lent her books that he thought she needed to read and empowered her beyond belief. Only when she needed it though did he interfere.

</i>

“Your favourite book is ‘Pride and prejudice? Did Mr Darcy like Elizabeth more because she was outspoken and her own woman?” Christine only nodded. “Then stop pandering to these idiots. Yes, take their direction but not when it cuts you down. If it doesn’t stop I’ll bloody tell them.”

“They’re bossy; not romantic though.” She said trying to lighten the atmosphere and stop feeling like such a silly little girl. Erik only raised his eyebrows and bit his tongue trying to keep his attention solely on the tv in front of them. “No one has ever declared their undying love for me.”

“Maybe if you followed the advice.” </i>

Erik remembered that night. The air hung thick as Christine ran her finger around the rim of her glass and the silence rang. He knew he loved her then. It was sudden and all at once; like drowning. He fought it but couldn’t swim to the surface again. It was fine when it was just lessons and direction but then they met up. She didn’t look at the mask but at Erik’s eye. He held his temper and the time it was ragged, she simply laid her hand on his shoulder and then it took all his power not to declare his feelings. Erik wasn’t stupid; she was young, beautiful and smart. Out of his league. Then, she suddenly had a boyfriend on the scene after a connection with an old friend. It was dreadful to watch them. Erik was waiting at the stage door with flowers but they ended up in the trash can when he realised he’d been beaten to the punch.

The pair came to the airport all too quickly. Christine methodically checked off her list for the hundredth time.

“Passport? Yes. Money? Yes. Ticket? Yes. Phone? Yes. Makeup bag? Yep. So, I’m all set.” Christine looked beautiful in her thick sweater, the mass of curls blow dried out by the hairstylist this morning and her body bouncing nervous energy as she smiled widely at Erik with the harsh light reflecting off his mask. “Vienna, here I come! City of opera dreams and I’ll be back in a few weeks.”

Erik knew she wouldn’t come back. She had nothing in Paris anymore and her father was back in Sweden. He knew the allure of a new city and a new start but he’d miss her too much to admit. She was tense and clearly something was distracting her, as always, she just blurted it out after only a stern look from her mentor.

“He’s nice, right? He’s not texted much but now a driver is going to pick me up? That’s okay, isn’t it?” Erik wouldn’t dream of it. He would even let her take public transport alone and insisted she stayed in his guest room when he caved and shared a bottle of wine with her.

“Yes.” He replied monosyllabically before adding some care when he saw Christine's face drop a little. “Let me know when you get to his house at least. Goodbye, angel.”

‘Angel’ Christine melted just like when he’d coined the term back for her. She had not known his name when the first note had come or the loud shout across the stage from a fast-moving figure. Erik had told her to start an octave higher and, it had worked perfectly, she had hit the last note despite not knowing. Jokingly, she’d referred to him since as her ‘Angel of music’. It had become truthful as her broken heart had begun to mend itself.

“I can still call you, can’t I?” Erik noted she was picking at the handle of her bag and delaying for time. Nodding, Erik was about to splurge out everything but as he opened his mouth, some jackass behind him started to honk for the drop off space.

“Of course. Good luck with the audition. I’ll come to see you perform, I’m sure.”

He watched her walk away with the backpack that was his before, handbag and battered suitcase decorated with a floral print. It wasn’t medically possible but he was quite sure he could physically feel his heartbreaking. The tears clouded his vision so Erik gave up trying and pulled in for a drive-through coffee he’d normally baulk at. Red and white lights flashed overhead as planes carrying people off to their dreams, vacations and loved ones. The pain came in another crashing wave as he saw the coffee Christine got flash on the menu board; double-shot caramel latte. How was it possible for a coffee to cause a thousand stabs of ice to a heart. Erik reconciled himself to just wait out the hour and a half to watch her plane take off into the night sky. Then he’d go home and drink his body weight in liquor.

The whole plane groaned as the captain announced the delay. They’d sat on the tarmac for half an hour but it felt so much longer for someone as nervous as she was. Christine swore under her breath as she wrestled the backpack from the compartment. Why wasn’t Erik here? He never had to stand on his tiptoes to reach anything.

1 Voice Note from ‘Angel of Music 🎶 (ERIK DESTLER). 20 minutes ago. Christine held the phone to her ear as she jostled her way through disgruntled people and his velvet tones spilled into her ears.

‘So, I’m just at Starbucks and I can’t not say this anymore. I’m so sorry to do this, Christine, and like this. Look, just don’t listen past this but let me do it. We can pretend it never happened. I really want you to be happy and I don’t care if that’s not with me but... fuck... I don’t even know why I’m doing this but... here goes. I love you. A lot. Always have and always will. You can’t blame me because look at you and look at me. I know you won’t feel the same but I care for you so much, Christine. My wretched heart will always belong to you. The one who saw through the bullshit. Don’t think nothing or no one is missing you in Paris because I will be. Don’t dwell on it though. Go be happy... If you want to come home or something goes wrong, I’ll buy your ticket home and be waiting to collect you. Anytime, any day, just call me. You can always call me. No questions asked.’ There was a noise of a steering wheel being slapped and Erik squeezing his nose and clearing his throat before a new note started. ‘Anyway, just call me if you need and, best of luck. I know you’ll be perfect and don’t take any shit from anyone. I’ll get over all of this and I’m sorry. Unless you didn’t listen to that message in which case, erm, send me a postcard kid.’

Christine felt like the world had fallen out from under her and anything she thought was true wasn’t anymore. Throwing her handbag onto the seat, she paced around and listened to the message again. Surely she’d misheard him.

Erik perched himself on the wing of his car. His third cup of coffee in one hand a cigarette in the other as he blew smoke into the sky and watched a plane take off. Her flight was seven minutes late but he saw the green tail knew it was her flight as the flight app hadn’t updated with the last-minute delay.

“Fucking hell, Erik...” he mumbled to himself and threw the butt of the cigarette away after only taking three drags. “Stupid bastard...”

Never before had he felt so deflated but with freedom now. It was out into the world regardless of his regrets or lack of. The words where just like the smoke; impossible to catch or recall in the night sky. It was what it was, Erik thought as he sat back in the driver's seat and drummed the leather wheel defeated. He sat there spinning his phone on his thigh whilst the radio played the weather forecast monotonously. He had muted Christine and unmuted her twice just in case she needed him suddenly yet he hadn’t looked to see if she heard the message before boarding. The timing was meant to be that she’d already have shut off her phone before getting on the plane. It was nearly an hour ago since he’d practically bled the words out of his mouth and tonight, he’d go home and get very drunk before sleeping in tomorrow and he’d remain drunk until the opening night of the opera in four days. Then, he’d force himself back together and to face the world.

“Erik?” That voice. His head whipped around quickly and pulled a muscle. “My- my flight got delayed.”

His face visibly dropped but Christine held up her phone with the screen illuminating the picture of the artwork in Erik’s corridor that she adored. It was a perfect metaphor. Even when it wasn’t about him, Erik was never far from her thoughts.

“I got your message.” The young woman was nervous and simply flying on instinct as the moments turned into seconds and she was closing the gap between them and then her body hit his and their lips met in a breathless kiss full of fire and longing. Christine’s smile was large and her eyes crinkled when Erik looked shocked and confused. Slowly, his long arms wrapped around her waist and one knee shook weakly. She was here, in his arms and smiling at the thought of him. “I wish you’d told me before.”

“I didn’t want to cloud our friendship.”

“Friendship? Erik, it was never just a friendship with us. It doesn’t take me five minutes to unlock my door and say goodbye in the car and I wanted you. I thought you could see that-“

In response, his lips met hers again as one palm cradled her cheek. The mask was unforgiving but Christine knew what was underneath already from coming over early months ago. He’d freaked out and was embarrassed but she handled it without a moment of thought.

“Are you staying?” Erik whispered with a voice dripping with dark honey and his nose rubbed against hers as Christine cuddled him close in the chilly night with her arms around his neck.

Several hours later and Erik was kissing Christine’s nude shoulder as he cuddled behind her still unable to sleep despite their activities. Christine hummed in happily nuzzled softly in a bed that smelt of his cologne. She couldn’t stop thanking delayed flights and voice notes of deep thoughts in cars. She could have missed out on her love so easily but as Erik’s chest pressed against her back in his bed, Christine knew she was exactly where she was meant to be.

@sloanedestler

#is 2k a mini fic?#I also drafted a totally #different idea for this which I might post if anyone cares #modern day au erik #Erik x Christine #ask box

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papergirllife · 4 years

Text

Chapter 2

Synopsis:

You don’t know what it’s like to be free, to make your own choices, and live your own life. For your whole life, your parents have been treating you like a puppet on strings, controlling your life to every single detail, as well as ignoring the fact that you have feelings. Other times, when you disobey their wishes, or speak up about your own opinions, they bash you down with words, in other words, psychological abuse, has led you down the long winded road of depression and anxiety. What happens when you meet a man who’s willing to be your guide out of this terrible downpour? Would you give a shot at happily ever after?

Warnings:

big age gap (kinda?)

issues on anxiety

issues on depression (mild)

issues on parental abuse

smut (maybe)

Tag List: @etherealtyjaem , @caratzennie , @johnnysuhnflower , @euphoricchannie , @yeollieseo , @jjhmk , @sherzess

(lmk if you wanna be on the list) (and sorry for reposting, it just won’t show on the tags)

The new house you’ve just moved in was small, you were perfectly fine with the size, you always stayed in your room anyways, the sizes elsewhere doesn’t really matter. It wouldn’t have been an issue if they weren’t making a fuss outside. They were yet again arguing about the company’s debts and complaining about the recent stock market turn outs. Your parents sold the old house in order to pay off some of the company loans, moving into a decent condominium in the older township.

Why are they so obnoxiously loud? Why can’t they talk like normal civilised people? They had an awful habit of shouting from one room to another, even if it’s about 3 feet apart, the study to the kitchen like it was just steps away.

You placed your pillow on top of your ear as the other was covered with the other one you’re sleeping on, you woke up from nightmares just this morning and needed a nap, but from the looks of things, you weren’t getting one anytime soon.

You reluctantly got up from your bed and told them to lower down their voices, but they just ignored you, as they always did. After the third time of fruitless attempt, you’ve given up hope on resting, but your body wasn’t happy with what was happening, the voices in your head hammering in your head, blaming you for what happened as you felt your heartbeat quicken, your breathing staggered. You could feel your whole body tense up as tears started to cloud your vision.

You inhaled deep breaths as you tried to push the anxiety attack away, humming a song, fiddling with a pen, but nothing you read on the internet helped. You hugged your knees towards your chest as you sat on the corner of your room, trying to muffle your choked sobs. A sentence you kept repeating in your head like a mantra,

‘make it stop.’

It’s currently 10 a.m. and your parents are rushing you to hurry up with your morning routine as they have an important meeting with some potential investor, they’re taking you along because they need an errand girl to buy them coffee and in case of any other task that is deemed much too troublesome for them like filing away documents or printing out contracts.

You woke up at the crack of dawn to get ready, so to say that you were tired after yesterday’s ordeal was an understatement. As your father told you to double check the files needed in the bag, you found out you left one up stairs, your palms sweaty as you informed them of your mishap.

“How can you be so dumb?! This is why you’re such a failure of a person! I told you to prepare everything last night! Were you day dreaming again?!” your father bellowed from the driver’s seat, his angry eyes filled with rage whenever his gaze darted to your sight through the rearview mirror, putting your lives at risk on a busy road.

You bite back retorts, head hung low through out the quick detour back, exiting the car alone to go back up and retrieve the file you left behind.

Not a day goes by where they don’t criticise you for something you did, whether an accident or not. You can feel your anxiety levels going up again as your heartbeat picks up speed, a wave of sadness coming over you. You quickly recalled a familiar song to block out their hurtful words ringing in your head.

“Useless piece of shit,” your father mumbled as he drove, throwing a clothe he uses to clean his car on your face, the rough material stinging you.

As you dug through your pockets for loose change in your jacket, your fingers found a card instead, it was Mr Suh’s card.

I can take you away from all this chaos raging among your family, if you can call it a family that is. I’ll be seeing you soon, Y/N.

‘What does he mean?’ you wondered.

“Miss, you’re holding up the queue. Do you have 50 cents or not?” the cashier at your local starbucks snaps at you, yanking you away from your own thoughts.

“Sorry, I don’t,” you apologised.

You looked around you to see the long line behind you and the usual full house condition of the cafe, sighing at what you call a norm of your life now, being an errand girl for your parents, and not even a little bit of acknowledgement of your existence nor feelings.

‘Can Mr Suh really make all this stop?’ you asked yourself.

Now you think you’re ridiculous for thinking a man of such wealth and power would be interested in a girl with such a puny presence among a crowd and not even a valued family member in your family’s eyes. He’s going to get bored of a girl like you someday, how long would he stay interested? A week? A month? A year? You doubt you’ll even last a night.

You begrudgingly took the bagged coffee from the counter and quickly walked back to your parent’s office block, head hung low as you thought about your parents’ attitude if this investor ends up leaving them empty handed, shivering at the thought of being their ‘mental stress ball’.

“I’m sorry, but the debts your company is in isn’t something we’d want to have on our company’s reputation if we invested. Thank you for having us,” the man in the middle, presumably the boss said, a bored look on his face.

Just like that the investors stood up and walked out the glass door of the office. Once they were out, your parents let out a frustrated groan. You quickly hurried to close up the office as they always told you to after a meeting on weekends without workers in the office.

A month later

The company is now under leased after being certified bankruptcy. Your parents’ savings are running low, so they told you to get a part time job at a local western grocer that rich people of Seoul go to for groceries that could most probably buy you a meal at your nearby convenience store, at the winery section, where you are now giving out samples to the customers.

It wasn’t an easy job, the customers here have high standards, whatever you’re giving out as samples are always deemed lacked elegance compared to the ones that they usually have, yet they always come back for more samples the next time they come to pick up groceries, and if they’re in a good mood, they might actually buy something. People who act rich but actually aren’t as wealthy as what they boast always ticks you off, they remind you of your own family.

On Friday nights, when the alcohol section always closes earlier are the times when you’ll head to the bookstore in the same mall you were working at to read, you knew that’s a really rude thing to do, but you can’t afford buying books anymore. So you read a few chapters every night, and slightly more on Friday nights, you never told your parents about the different working hours on this particular day of the week, you don’t want to go back earlier just to see their scowling faces as they hunch over different sorts of bills and statements.

You finally found a way to cope with your anxiety levels and depression by working out early in the morning, you read from the newspapers at the worker’s lounge in the grocer that it helps, and so you gave it a try, little did you know that you would enjoy it and the feeling of staying fit boosted your confidence. But on days when you felt tired and didn’t achieve the results you were aiming at, your mind reminds you of the times when your parents called you ugly, it was started when they found out you were dating, on those days, a shut of your eyes and you’ll remember the scene of them hitting you unfolding once again, if you focused hard enough you could still feel the sting on your face.

You pushed those thoughts away as you quickly packed up for the night, as you were preparing to leave, a man came in your section, requesting to buy a bottle of wine. You were going to say that the winery section is closed, but as you turned around, the words got stuck in your throat.

It was Mr Suh, dressed in his usual working attire. Even after sitting in the office for a whole day, he still looks breathtaking, his clothes held no crease.

“Y/N,” Mr Suh said your name, the corners of his lips tugging up in a smile.

He remembers you? After so long?

“Mr Suh. H-how can I help you?” you asked, eyes darting around hoping that there aren’t any more customers, worried that they’ll realise that you were letting Mr Suh in despite the closing time.

You weren’t as anxious as talking to strangers before, but Mr Suh was no stranger to you, not really anyways, and he always had an aura that made you shy away from his presence.

“I’m looking for a bottle of Pinot Noir by Emos,” Mr Suh told you.

You took tiny but hurried steps towards a counter where the grocer kept its more expensive bottles, typed in the password and handed it to him. You silently went to the counter, typing in the bottle’s code to ring up the register.

Mr Suh handed you 200 dollars, for a bottle that only costed 85. When you opened your mouth to tell him about the error, he stopped you.

“That’s tip for bothering you after working hours, keep it,” he said.

You tried to disagree, but he refused, saying that it is what he should do. Mr Suh bid you goodbye, before he leaves your sight, he looks back at you with an odd glint in his eyes, one that you fail to read once again.

“I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

The wine was supposed to be for his conquest tonight, yet when he walked through that hotel door, he knew he wasn’t going to enjoy tonight at all. Maybe the girl isn’t pretty enough? No, she was his usual take on girls he brings to bed, but something was very much off.

Johnny didn’t usually mind a bit of harmless flirting over wine before sex, he did have a tiring day at work, usually this process would calm him down a bit before getting down to business. However, he found the flirting part rather boring and very much tedious today, the girl’s flirty remarks seemed it was droning on to no end. So he sped things up, the wine long forgotten as their limbs tangle up with the sheets.

There was something nagging him behind his head, he couldn’t place a finger on it, until when he closed his eyes, instead of seeing the girl beneath him, he saw you, your tiny body beneath his as your beautiful glossy eyes look into his, the size difference between the two of you significant in his head. That was the image that kept him going, the usual him would open his eyes wide and take in the figure beneath him, but today he kept his eyes closed as he places his head on her shoulder, that action might seem affectionate, but this was just an excuse for Johnny to let his imagination run wild without being questioned.

Johnny left after washing up in the bathroom, leaving just after one round isn’t his style at all, usually Johnny could go up to four or five if he enjoyed the first round, Johnny lets out a big sigh as he gets back into the car, he should’ve asked you to dinner instead of wasting time fucking a girl just to have him imagine her being you in order to finish up.

Johnny puts his car on drive as he swiftly leaves the parking lot, hoping a night’s sleep would clear his thoughts of you. But as Johnny’s head hits his soft pillow, he could only ask himself.

‘What are you doing to me, Y/N?’

When you woke up the next day after a long night of reading through your business course books, trying to take in whatever you can before they realise that you don’t really know what you’re reading at all.

You walked out to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast, but before you got there, you heard voices.

“We can’t send her college, we don’t have any money left,” you heard your father’s voice say.

“But it’s her future, you’re going to put that after the company?” your mother’s voice questions.

“It’s not like she’s smart enough for it anyways. I walk by her room while she studies, and it seems like she’s just staring at an empty void, we can’t place our future in her hands, we’ll starve!” your father argues back.

What your father said had stung your heart, but after a minute or so after taking it in, it wasn’t the first time they had said such hurtful words about you. You dragged your feet back to bed, no longer having the appetite for breakfast.

You went out for a run when you felt your heartbeat quicken up as your mind floods back all the bad memories that were brought forth because of the conversation you overheard between your parents, trying your best to avoid a full on anxiety attack.

Johnny loves weekends, it was the only time he could invest himself into working out instead of the short two hours he does before work, the gym is the place where he built up his high self esteem, and it’s the reason other than his good looks of course, that brings all the girls into his sight.

Yet he didn’t feel like he achieved as much in the gym after last night’s events. Yes, he did give in his full attention in all the exercises. He purposely slept early so he could feel energized today. Yet he didn’t have the desire to show off his body through a one night stand. The party that he said he would go seemed troublesome instead of his usual excitement of knowing he wasn’t going to bed alone. He took out his phone to text his friend that he was going to sit this one out, making up an excuse about not feeling well.

Johnny was laying around watching television as he scrolled through the latest news of the stock market, feeling a sense of pride as he sees his company’s stock rising after he had taken over from his father.

The familiar chime of his grandfather clock in the corner alerts Johnny of the time, 7 chimes means 7pm. Something suddenly clicks in his head, the sign that states the operating hours for the winery in the mall, you were going to go off work in thirty minutes.

Johnny quickly changes into jeans and a black knitted sweater that hugs his physique perfectly, styling his hair a bit before heading out his door, a smile unconsciously gracing his pretty lips.

When Johnny got to the winery section, he was disappointed to see that you had left, only left with a promoter of some beer, he tried his luck with the staff, hoping to know your whereabouts.

“It’s a Saturday today, so I think she’s off to buy a cup of instant noodles for dinner, she’ll either be at the cashier counters now, or eating at the food court.”

Johnny thanks the promoter as he rushes to the counters, he wouldn’t have spotted you if he didn’t recognise the baby blue checkered scrunchie popping up from the crowd that you wore the last time to match your uniform.

Johnny makes his way in between the masses of people, making some people frown in disbelief as his large figure makes them move away. Johnny plucked the cup of instant noodles out of your hand when he got there, making you jump in fright from the sudden intrusion of your wandering thoughts.

“Mr Suh?” you addressed him when you looked up to see who had took away your favourite brand of cup noodles.

“You’re not eating that tonight, come with me,” Johnny said, his voice more cheerful than the previous times you had seen him, but why?

Johnny takes your hands in his, a smirk making way on his face as he feels your small shaky hands in his large ones, he didn’t mind one bit, instead he likes how shy you are around him. Johnny places the cup of instant noodles on some nearby shelf before dragging you out of the grocer.

When he was out, he stopped in his tracks, turning around to look at you, trying to look into your eyes that were darting away from his. He finds it endearing, how you’re always so nervous whenever you’re with him, it was something very much new to him.

Johnny suggests a few high class restaurants for dinner, rattling off big names in hopes to impress you.

“I-i was only planning to have a cup of instant noodles, Mr Suh. Anything’s fine to me,” you said after many times of trying to tell him that he didn’t need to take you out for dinner.

“But I want you to choose. Go ahead, anywhere you want,” Johnny said and waits, curious of what you’ll pick.

You rocked on you heels and bit your lip in thought as you wrecked your head for ideas to get yourself out of this situation, but you couldn’t help but feel the desire to grab dinner with him instead of eating cup noodles at the food court alone again, and the fact that his hand was still held onto yours made you feel a sense of serenity and had a need to stay with him.

“Do you have somewhere which makes you feel like a child again when you eat their food?”

Johnny was taken back by such a request. Was it touching? He hasn’t felt that from anyone else other than his family and a handful of close friends, certainly not a lady other than his mom. Was it different? Yes. But was it bad? Certainly not, instead he feels a tug in his heart. The girls he met only made requests, instead of asking for his opinion, because they know he could afford anything they requested for, but then there’s you, breaking all of those other girls’ standards. You were also the first one who made him speechless, even if it was just a mere seconds.

“I know a place.”

You genuinely didn’t know why you had made such a sentimental suggestion, you just thought that food from a restaurant that reminds him of home would mean that it was affordable, but other than that reason, it was because if you were to have dinner with a man whom you only had met a handful of times, you might as well get to know him better by knowing little things about him.

You weren’t dumb, you remember what he had said about being interested in you, and that having dinner with him was a risk to your own safety as well. Yet you couldn’t stray away from his dashing smile and the way his eyes shine so brightly when he sees you.

You were slowly falling down the rabbit hole.

The interior of his car had several alterations made to suite his liking, it was interesting, compared to the people who just bought cars based on their ranking and wealth just for bragging rights in an afternoon tea. His car even smelt nice, like the Jo Malone cologne you’ve taken a whiff from the sample sticks given out, you wonder if that’s what he usually wears to work.

You couldn’t help but steal peeks at Mr Suh when he drives, the way he’s so concentrated and how he could casually drive with only one hand on the wheel made you swoon slightly in the passenger seat as his rnb music plays on the radio. You shouldn’t be thinking about Mr Suh this way regardless that he’s interested in you, especially given that the two of you have quite a large age gap, as well as the fact that you weren’t allowed to date until after college. If your parents found out about you going out with Mr Suh, they’re going to skin you alive. That thought made you shiver as you suddenly realise that you can’t be seen with a man out in public, if any of your relatives find out, they’ll definitely snitch on you.

You lowered yourself in the seat as you hope that you won’t run into any of your family members when you reach wherever Mr Suh’s taking you. The drive was quiet, only the radio playing softly in the background, making you feel relaxed. Suddenly, Johnny stopped at the traffic lights, taking a long look at you from his seat.

“Why did you suggest eating somewhere which reminds me of my childhood?” Johnny asked, his eyes full of seriousness.

“I-i just wanted to get to know you better, is that not the right way to make friends?” you answered, glad that you’ve pondered this question yourself.

“It’s not the usual way, but I like how you think, Y/N,” Johnny said before he averts his attention back on the road when the lights turned green.

Johnny could sense something was off with you from the way you looked around anxiously from your seat when the both of you reached your destination, the way your brows furrowed and the way your jittery fingers mindlessly move about. It wasn’t a shady part of town, although the two of you were at the slightly older establishments of Seoul.

“Are you alright? Why are you suddenly so nervous?” Johnny asked, worry written on his face.

You looked down on your fingers that were splayed across your lap, twitching the hem of your skirt to try and calm your nerves with no avail, but you had to say something, Mr Suh, as you’ve grown to realise is a man who’s persistent and straight forward.

“I’m worried that we’ll bump into anyone I know. I’m...I’m not supposed to be seeing anyone or going out with people without permission,” you told him, embarrassed at the fact that you were still very much on a leash despite being an adult.

Johnny feels a sense of guilt settling down his stomach as he sees your eyes avoiding him, if he could take a guess, you must feel embarrassed right now, to have a family like that, maybe that’s why you distant yourself from people around you, they must’ve judged you based on your parents’ decisions towards your life.

Johnny reached towards the spare sweater he kept in his gym bag and handed it to you.

“Here, this has a hoodie. I don’t think anyone would be able to recognise you with it on,” Johnny said in a gentle tone, not even a hint of judgement in his voice.

You obliged and slipped the sweater on, as well as the hoodie onto your head. The sight of your small figure drowning in Johnny’s hoodie made him smile, he never thought his clothes would look so cute on you.

“Come on, it’s peak hour and I’m starving,” Johnny said with a smile that seems to always lift your mood.

You nodded mindlessly, eyes gazed into his warm honey filled eyes and soft smile. When Johnny’s trance broke on you, you quickly reached for the car door, only to see Johnny opening it for you.

‘Must be nice to have long legs to walk that fast,’ you thought to yourself.

But when he held his hand out to help you out of the car, that’s when your head went haywire and could only feel your cheeks burning up from the gentlemanly gesture that you hadn’t expected.

You hope your hand wasn’t shaking as obviously as it felt, or that would’ve been very embarrassing, you thank the skies for the chilly weather, or your hands would’ve started getting clammy from what a nervous wreck you’ve become.

The cold was getting to you as the both of you were waiting in line for a table and Johnny could tell from the way you subtly rubbed your neck, hands lingering there to leave some warmth as the wind blows by. Without thinking, he grabs the drawstrings of his hoodie and secures it surrounding your face like a cute chipmunk.

“There, all better.”

He could tell how nervous his bold action made you feel from the way you stuttered out a thank you, the two words almost lost in the wind from how soft it sounded.

Johnny didn’t know why, but the way you’ll get all flustered from his actions warms his chest like a cup of hot coco in the winter snow.

Not long after, the two of you had gotten a tiny table for two. It was cramped, but Johnny didn’t mind, as long as it’s this restaurant, and as a plus, he could see your face from a closer perspective. He was secretly admiring the shape of your cute little nose while he pretended to look through the menu that he knew like the back of his palm.

“What’s your favourite on the menu? I don’t know what to try first, all the pictures look so nice,” you said as your eyes was open wide with interest, taking in the photos of the food on the colourful menu.

Johnny was taken aback on how you had asked for his opinion instead of the demands of carvier and champagne that he used to hear all the time. He must’ve had a weird look on his face, because the silence made you furrow your brows.

“I’m sorry, that must’ve sounded weird and came off as boring, but I really don’t know what to get, so I thought you should suggest me something since you seem to come here often. Sorry, I ramble a lot when I’m nervous, I’m not a very sociable person, so the things I say might come off as odd...

“No, Y/N, listen, it’s fine. I like it when you talk, and it’s cute that you ramble. And no, I don’t find you odd or boring. I was just surprised you’d ask for my opinion, not many people do that unless it’s about business. I’m glad that you value my opinion, even if it’s just dinner,” Johnny explained, he wanted to listen to your voice longer, but the thought of anything making you uncomfortable surprisingly annoyed Johnny.

It was the first time someone had not found you awkward when you started rambling, you didn’t do it on purpose, it was just that the lack of human interaction made you socially anxious about talking to people and when you want to express something. Johnny is truly an eye opener for you.

Johnny might have ordered a little bit too much for the two of you, but he could always take away and leave it for Mark when he drops by tomorrow. Although Johnny had came here many times, mostly on his own or with Mark, he couldn’t deny the satisfaction and happiness that filled his heart as you tried all the dishes with the most wholesome expressions on your face.

You weren’t Johnny’s workers or business partners, you didn’t need to appease him and give him positive reactions, because with you, he wasn’t Neo Enterprise’s CEO, he was just Johnny and it doesn’t bother him one bit.

The two of you talked about the most random things, from Johnny’s business partners Taeyong and Doyoung fighting in his office, to the time you pranked your co worker by mixing some heavy alcohol into his coffee.

“He couldn’t tell?” Johnny asked, curious because he was a coffee addict himself.

“He thought it was just part of the flavour, it was one of those seasonal starbucks drinks that he bought,” you explained.

Johnny paid for dinner before you could protest and refused to take your money when you had offered to pay him back your share.

You trudged beside Johnny silently when he said that he was going to take you home, you haven’t had such a nice time since forever, and you didn’t want this beautiful moment to come to an end.

You had a sad smile on your face as you watched Johnny drive, it was a peaceful scenery to take in, his face calm as he steered comfortably, the radio once again playing softly in the background.

When you had reached your house, you didn’t really know how to react, other than looking at him silently as he does the same as well.

“Thank you for tonight Johnny, I haven’t had this much fun in a long time,” you said genuinely, grateful that someone as interesting as Johnny would even bother giving you the time of the day.

You figured that this was the polite thing to say, but you inwardly cursed at yourself for sounding like a robot. You shouldn’t be reacting this way, especially due to the fact that he’s so much more older than you are, maybe not too old, 5 to 6 years maybe? Is that considered a big age gap?

“I had a great time with you too, Y/N. Thank you for having dinner with me,” Johnny said, usually he spoke this sentence like a little white lie to whoever he had to meet for business sake, but to you? It was nothing but the truth.

Johnny continued holding his stare even after what he said, the sincerity in his eyes evident as a soft smile graces his lips.

“You should head up now, Y/N. It’s already 9 p.m., if you stay any longer they’ll be suspicious,” Johnny reminded you.

“Yeah, okay,” you replied, immediately feeling down once more.

Even after you agreed to go up, your legs weren’t willing to move, you were going to miss him, so you asked him one last question before you willed yourself to open the car door, you were going to sound desperate, but in that moment, you didn’t have a care in the world.

“Will I ever see you again?”

Happiness fills your heart as you heard the question that comes after.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

#nct smut #nct fluff #nct 127 #johnny suh #johnny smut #nct #nct 2020 #nct dream #wayv #johnny seo

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

Text

What do you typically have for breakfast? I typically don’t have breakfast, but if I do, or if I have breakfast foods later for a late lunch or dinner, I like to have breakfast sandwiches, scrambled eggs with shredded cheese, spinach, garlic, and green onions, or scrambled eggs and biscuits smothered in country gravy with hash browns. Unless you count my first cup of coffee and whatever snack I have with it as breakfast, which is something I have everyday.

Where do you purchase most of your clothes? Boxlunch or Hot Topic.

Do you have any opinions on Anna Delvey? I don’t know who that is.

What are you currently streaming? An ASMR video <<< Same.

What do you typically order when you go for coffee? If it’s Starbucks I’ll order a venti peppermint white chocolate mocha with soy. If it’s anywhere else then just a regular coffee with cream and sugar.

Anything you’re looking out for at the thrift? I don’t go thrift shopping.

Who are your favorite YouTubers? Several ASMRists, vloggers, lifestyle YouTubers, a drama commentary channel, Disney related channels, and this channel that covers abandoned buildings and whatnot.

Describe your skincare routine. I don’t have one. :X

What’s your typical morning routine look like? May not be in the morning per se, but the first thing I do when I get up is take my medicine and then check my social medias while lounging around for awhile before finally dragging myself out of bed for coffee.

Are you still playing Animal Crossing? I was playing regularly most of last year up until about January. I’ve been wanting to play and see what’s new, but for some reason I just haven’t.

How has the pandemic specifically affected you? Not nearly as much as a lot of people. The only real difference for me is that before the pandemic I went grocery shopping with my mom, went to the movies, and a few other little errands here and there. Since the pandemic I only leave the house once a month for my doctor appointment that I have to go to in order to get my prescription refills, otherwise I wouldn’t go anywhere. So while before I still spent most of my time at home, at least I was getting out a few more times.

Where’s your favorite place to go for brunch? I don’t go anywhere for brunch.

What’s on your nightstand? Currently, there’s my medicine, pill crusher, bottle of Coke to take my medicine with (I have to crush my pills, hence the pill crusher), a glass, 2 bottles of water, a Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink, a box of straws, my wallet, and nail clippers.

What do you think about before falling asleep? My mind wanders to random places.

What is your main source of anxiety? It’s how my brain works.

Any bands or artists you’ve recently discovered? No.

What are your goals for today? I don’t have any.

What kind of games do you play on your phone? I like murder mystery/hidden object games and word games.

Are there any packages you’re waiting to come in through the mail? No.

Describe your favorite t-shirt? All my graphic tees, which I have plenty of.

Do you have a specific aesthetic? Hmm. Like what is my aesthetic/look or what things do I find aesthetically pleasing?

Skinny jeans or mom jeans? Skinny jeans.

What’s your favorite 90s cartoon? Rugrats, Doug, and Hey Arnold.

Describe the moment you realized you were falling in love with someone. Hm. Hard to pinpoint the exact moment. It just... happened.

Have you tried the feta and tomato recipe? What’s that, just tomatoes with feta cheese?

What’s your favorite sparkling water brand/flavor? I don’t drink sparkling water. Although, the brand that makes Vitamin Water used to have Fruit Water, which was carbonated flavored water, and it was actually really good. I think they discontinued it, though.

What’s your favorite makeup brand/brands? I don’t have any anymore. I haven’t worn makeup in 3 years now; I don’t have the energy, motivation, or interest for it.

What’s your all time favorite movie? I have many.

What are some female names you would name a baby? I don’t want to have children, but I like the names Autumn and Winter.

What about male? Alexander.

Do you have any subscription boxes? No. I think those boxes that send you treats from different places around the world look cool, though.

What did you purchase the last time you bought groceries? I don’t buy the groceries, my mom does.

What fictional creature would you like as a pet? Hm. I don’t know.

Describe your favorite piece of jewelry. I don’t really have a particular favorite.

Have any local businesses closed that you’re sad about? A lot of places of closed since the pandemic.

What’s the worst advice you’ve ever taken? Listening to myself as well as my stubbornness has caused the most problems.

How do you feel about your neighbors? I don’t know ‘em.

What kind of dwelling do you live in? A duplex.

Have you been watching this season of The Bachelor? I’ve never had any interest in watching that.

What’s typically kept in your purse/wallet? I keep credit cards, gift cards, and my ID in my wallet. My bag holds my wallet, hand sanitizer, and my phone when I go somewhere.

How do you feel about TikTok? I enjoy it. There’s something for everyone on there.

What’s the hardest thing you’ve done/been through? Losing loved ones, my disability, health related things. These past few years alone have been really hard for me.

Did you/do you still have a Neopets account? I had one when I was a kid. I’m sure it was deleted long ago for being inactive. I don’t even think Neopets is a thing anymore.

What do you look like on a day where you don’t leave the house? So everyday? A mess.

Do you have any opinions on Amberlynn Reid? I know of the name, but I don’t know much about her.

Any current trends you dislike? I’m so out of the loop I don’t even know what the current trends are.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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duchessfics · 5 years

Text

The Case of the Sweater Thief

(https://ahscovenapocalypse.tumblr.com/post/181426577063/fishkreizler-cordelia-goode-ahs)

(https://lauramaher25.tumblr.com/post/179881206546/ahs-ms-wilihemina-venable-fire-and-reign)

Cordelia x Fem!Reader x Wilhemina

Warning(s): Nothing except an excessive amount of fluff :)

Summary: Now that it’s fall, you keep wearing your girlfriends’ sweaters. So they send you out to get some of your own, but you get a little sidetracked and end up with other items instead.

Word Count: 2125

A/n: Since it’s six(ish) weeks until Halloween, I thought I would post some fall-based, short one-shots (get it, six cause that’s the “devil’s number???”...I’ll go home now) Anyways these will be shorter than some of my other works, but I thought it would be to do some seasonal writing.

This first prompt came from @prompts-for-the-otp:

“Person A, tired of Person B stealing all their hoodies whenever fall comes (though they admit that B does look adorable in those oversized hoodies), gives Person B money to buy their own jackets. Person B ends up coming home with like 5 pumpkin spice drinks from the Starbucks inside the Target where they was supposed to buy a jacket. Person A is surprised and a bit amused. They end up cuddling on the couch while drinking pumpkin spice lattes and watching Halloween movies. B is still wearing A’s hoodie, but A doesn’t really mind anymore.”

(Here is the link to the original post, [https://prompts-for-the-otp.tumblr.com/post/166004248858/prompt-167] this is NOT my original idea so show some love ;))

A knock on the door makes Cordelia look up from her paperwork on the desk and answer, “Come in.” Then one of her girlfriends steps in, her pastel lavender dress and scarlet red hair immaculate. Cordelia removes her glasses and Wilhemina says, “We need to do something about y/n.” Wilhemina remains standing, placing both hands on the top of her cane as she looks down to the supreme. “I’m not sure what you mean.” Cordelia answers with furrowed brows. The redhead’s exterior softens as she looks into Cordelia’s golden eyes and she says, “She can’t seem to stop stealing our sweaters and wears them all-around the school so everyone can see.” Cordelia looks down and arranges her papers to hide her smile as she asks, “Did something provoke this, darling?” Wilhemina’s nostrils flare as she heatedly replies, “She took one of my sweaters and is out flaunting around with it in front of everyone!” Cordelia returns her gaze up to the towering witch and soothes, “I’ll take care of it.” Wilhemina’s dark lips give a hint of a smile and she murmurs a soft thank you.

Then as she steps to the door, Cordelia calls out Wilhemina’s name, making the woman stop and look back. The supreme’s lips form into a smirk as she teases, “Just out of curiosity, were you going to wear that sweater today?” Her pale cheeks turn a light pink and she answers, “Well…no. But it’s the principle of it.” Cordelia chuckles and murmurs, “I’ll get your sweaters back, my dear.” Wilhemina straightens up and makes a confident stride out to her own office. Then Cordelia pulls out a $50 bill from her wallet before writing a note,

“Y/n, how about you go out and get yourself some sweaters for fall. Here’s some money and don’t forget to use my reusable bags for your items. Yours, C.”

Then she steps out and places the note and money on the countertop. Once that’s finished, she heads back to her office and returns to her work…

Instead of you coming in to speak to either of your girlfriends, drawing them out of their work, both women continue to work in their respective offices until Zoe comes to tell each of them dinner is ready. However, Cordelia becomes concerned when she enters the dining room and you are nowhere to be found. “Have any of you seen y/n?” She asks the group of witches gathered around. The girls look around and Mallory says, “I think she went out to Target.” Cordelia pulls out her phone and softly says, “Maybe I should call her.” But Wilhemina comes up beside her and softly soothes, “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s not a child and will probably be home soon.” Cordelia looks to her and lets out a sigh before admitting, “You’re right.” Then she replaces her phone in her pocket. Wilhemina sneaks her hand down to intertwine her fingers with Cordelia’s and they all sit down to eat dinner.

Everyone eats until they are more than full, but you still aren’t home, making Cordelia unsettled. As the girls begin to clean up from dinner, Wilhemina softly murmurs, “How about you text her? I’m sure she will be here any minute.” The blonde nods and pulls out her phone. However, before she even begins typing you enter with a drink holder and two of Cordelia’s reusable bags full of items. You smile and come up to your lovely girlfriends, giving Cordelia a peck on the cheek before sneaking a kiss on Wilhemina’s cheek. Cordelia lets out a soft chuckle at the way Wilhemina’s cheeks turn a rosy pink. Then she says, “Why don’t we go upstairs and see what you got?” You eagerly nod with a broad smile on your face as your excitement bursts at the seams. Cordelia wishes everyone good night before you three head upstairs.

Once you get to your room, you let out a squeak of excitement and Wilhemina closes the door as Cordelia takes a seat on the edge of the bed. Wilhemina joins her and you set the bags and drink carrier down, chirping, “The Target was completely remodeled so I took a lot longer than I planned.” Then you pull out two paper coffee cups and hand them to the women as you say, “There’s a Starbucks at Target now. So, I had to get us some pumpkin spice lattes to, you know, get in the fall spirit. I already drank mine.” They take the cups and Cordelia takes a drink before smiling and murmuring, “This does taste good. Thank you, sweetheart.” You give her a smile and step back to the bags, saying, “And when I was in line to buy those, I saw something too cute to pass on.” Then you pull out the cardboard box with the Starbuck’s logo, opening it as you say, “They had this mug,” and you pull it out revealing the item to them as you squeal, “and it looks like a pumpkin!” Both sets of eyes watch as you come up and hold out the mug. “Isn’t it cute?” You coo. Cordelia takes the mug and turns it over as she replies with a smile, “It is.” You melt under her smile and bite your lip, looking to the quiet red head who eyes down the mug with narrowed eyes.

You pause and watch her, uncertain, but Cordelia’s warm voice says, “What else did you get, sweetheart?” So, you return to face her and reply, “Since the whole store was redone, I wasn’t sure where the clothing section was, so I walked around and ended up in the Halloween section.” You go back to the bags and explain, “I almost made it all the way through when I saw this darling little thing.” Then you pull out a medium-sized stuffed animal that’s a black cat with a little witch’s hat. You give it a little pet and hold onto the soft, plush animal while you reach into the bag and say, “I saw something that made me think of you, Mina.” Her eyes widen, making you smile as you pull the item out. “There was this deep plum, almost black nail polish with purple glitter flecks.” She opens her mouth to say something, but you put up your hands before saying, “I know you don’t normally wear nail polish, but I thought we could use it when doing pedicures because…” Then you pull out a set of pumpkin spice scented body scrub and lotion. Your hands are full as you keep a hold of the cat, the nail polish, and the bottles of lotion and scrub, but you happily chirp, “I found these!” You carry the nail polish and skin products over to the witch in purple so she can see them up close. Cordelia smirks at a clearly shocked Wilhemina while you watch and grin.

After a moment, you take Cordelia’s hand with the arm that doesn’t hold the cat and say, “And don’t worry I didn’t forget about you, Delia.” She chuckles and her eyes glow as she murmurs, “I wouldn’t dream of it. What did you get for me, sweet girl?” You giggle and let go of her hand so you can return to the bags. “I know coffee isn’t your favorite beverage, so I was looking at the different tea options and found a pumpkin spice flavored tea!” You pull out the tin and open the lid before inhaling the scent of the loose-leaf tea mixture. “It smells amazing.” You tell her before handing off the item. You pull out the last item, telling Cordelia, “And I found something else for you.” Her eyebrow raises as you hold up the item and chirp, “It’s socks! With little teacups on them!” She chuckles and accepts the socks and this time you stay close to them, still holding the black cat in your arms. “I know the note said to buy sweaters, but I saw these different things and you both have done so much for me. So, I really wanted to get something special for you both.” You finish your statement and glance at Wilhemina who seems very quiet. Your hands nervously fist the warm, plum-colored sweater and you ask, “You—you like it, right?” While you search Wilhemina’s face, Cordelia also looks, nervous about her reaction. The red head holds the items up and looks to you with warm eyes as she murmurs, “I like them. That…that was very kind of you.” You let out the breath you were holding and smile at the praise, releasing the chokehold you had your poor cat in.

Then you look to Cordelia and she cups your face with her hand before saying with a smile, “I love them. Thank you, my sweet girl.” You blush and stammer, “Y-You’re welcome.” Then you bring the sleeves of the dark purple sweater you have on and ask, “Do you think we could possibly watch a Halloween movie together?” The blonde smiles and murmurs, “Of course. You pick one out and we will get into something more comfortable.” You back up to let them stand and Cordelia begins to walk to the closet. However, Wilhemina places a hand on your shoulder, making you look back to her. She gives you a small smile and murmurs, “Thank you for the nail polish and set of scrub and lotion, darling.” You grin up at her and reply, “You’re welcome.” Then she gives you a kiss, lingering on your lips a couple moments before walking over to the closet.

While they are changing, you pull out your laptop and place it on a bed tray towards the end of the bed. Then you pick out your favorite Halloween movie and slip off your jeans before sliding under the covers and arranging the pillows so you all can lean on them, keeping your new stuffed animal by your side. They both come out, Cordelia wearing a black lace negligee that falls about mid-thigh and Wilhemina wearing a matching set of royal purple silk pajama pants and tee. The blonde climbs in first, snuggling in beside you and kissing your cheek making you giggle and blush. Then Wilhemina comes up on the bed, but you both are shocked as Cordelia takes the red-head’s hand directing her to sit in the supreme’s lap. Wilhemina freezes up and her eyes go cold, but you keep quiet, knowing that the only one who dares to tell Miss Venable what to do is Cordelia. “Come now, Mina,” Cordelia purrs, knowing that nickname makes her melt, “a little cuddling won’t hurt anybody.” Her eyes flick between you and Cordelia and she withdraws her hand from Cordelia’s grip. In a low voice she grumbles, “If you get too handsy I will find somewhere else to sit.” Then she slowly eases back into Cordelia’s chest, still very stiff. Once she is seated, the blonde merely takes Wilhemina’s hand and rubs soothing circles over the top of it with her thumb.

You look to them both and ask, “Ready?” They both nod and say yes so you start the movie before leaning back and snuggling into Cordelia’s side as her arm wraps around your waist and keeps you and your stuffed animal close. As the movie continues, you notice that Wilhemina relaxes into the supreme’s embrace and doesn’t protest when Cordelia places her other arm around Wilhemina’s waist. You and Cordelia share a knowing look, but don’t say anything, not wanting to ruin the moment. Meanwhile both women keep sipping on their pumpkin spice lattes and as you stay close to Cordelia’s warm body, you find your eyelids getting heavy. Wilhemina seems to notice and asks, “Do you want to turn off the movie?” Immediately you perk up and shake your head as you say, “No! I’m awake, I promise.” They both chuckle and Cordelia soothes, “It’s okay, we’ll keep watching, darling.” You let out a sigh of relief and relax back into your original position. However, your drowsiness does win out, and you fall asleep with your head resting on Cordelia’s shoulder.

Once the movie stops playing, Wilhemina lets out a sigh and softly murmurs, “She’s asleep, isn’t she?” Cordelia chuckles and replies, “Yep.” Then she pauses, gently running her fingers through your hair as she says, “So much for her getting new sweaters.” Wilhemina glances at your sleeping figure and replies, “I don’t wear those old things anyways. It’s better for them to get some use than to just sit in the closet.” Cordelia giggles, knowing you can make Wilhemina cave without you even realizing it. Then they put the laptop and tray beside the bed before they both snuggle under the covers and fall asleep beside you.

Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

#AHS #ahs imagine #ahs coven #ahs apocolaypse #cordelia goode imagine #Cordelia Goode #cordelia goode x reader #cordelia foxx #cordelia x reader #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #cordelia x reader x wilhemina #ahs wilhemina venable #fall prompts #halloween

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monstaxnight · 5 years

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mxn...when you find time to free your mind could you write about late night car rides with each of the boys? What would the vibe be? Hands on the wheel or hands in-between your thighs? Heavy bass or soft noise? Kisses at stop lights or teasing touches to fluster one another?

shownu;

driving a little too fast along the freeway, one hand gripping the wheel and one hand gripping your bare thigh. heavy gold watch, camera click, insta that shit.

starbucks drive thru’s and cabs that smell like coffee and hot caresses, your kisses careless in the parking lot. undo yourself for my lips, baby,

hitting third base in the backseats, moans that mix with the low radio + soft laughter that sweetens the urge to kinda want to get caught.

wonho;

pulled over at a random look-out, the distant lights of seoul’s city skyline playing starlight upon the darkness of your bodies pressed together. he couldn’t wait any longer.

on his lap, on his lips, pressed against the hard edge of the wheel and vibrating with the loud bass of dvsn. who’s gonna make love like i do? yeah, nobody.

heavy secrets and wild promises, made as the glass begins to steam from the heat of your kissing and the weight of unresolved tension. it always ends up like this.

minhyuk;

cruising slow along downtown at sunset; the dying light casting burnt orange across the dark glass of the skyscrapers, sweet soda kissing your lips with sugar. summer romance.

listening to the music of dreamy korean girls so loud it vibrates the sidewalk as you pull up to the lights, so loud that you can’t hear the sweet nothings he shouts at you when he leans in for a kiss. i wanna fuck you so bad.

mouth and tongue slow and hot, the horns of the line of cars behind you blaring as the lights turn green but you’re too lost in his lips to realise. patience is a sweet little virtue.

kihyun;

escapist drives to the port, lying on the hood of the car as you share secrets and watch the ships sail in. seconds turning to minutes and minutes turning to make-outs.

sipping on forty-proof soju and spilling it over one another’s lips, tainting them sweet and dark and drunk. i love you.

the quiet poetry of led zeppelin drifting tenderly through the open door of the cab to kiss the night, the bright headlights illuminating the soft waves of the china sea as he works you slow. buying his stairway to heaven.

hyungwon;

long and lonely drives to absolutely nowhere, going wherever the road takes you. home is wherever you are.

blacked-out cabs and blurry road markings, the dim glow of red radio buttons and heavy electronica as you tease him slow, peeling your panties off to hang them on the rear view mirror. cherry red swinging in the black.

his hands dipping between your thighs to explore, the throttle tightening as you do. fuck, he loves keeping his fingers there.

jooheon;

low-rides and low-cut clothes, acting like his expensive baby beneath the red and green neon lights of the club district. playing with his heart.

the deep purr of dirty hip-hop vibrating your seat and the hot trail of your lips on his neck as you tell him how much he means to you, how sexy he is, how good he spoils you... how much you spoil him.

sipping straight out of the bottle as you rap along to the sick beat spitting from the speakers while he watches with smirking pride, gripping your knee tight. you learned from the best.

i.m;

cabs filled with shadows, dusky moonlight, the slow and sweet burn of incense smoke and the dark little philosophies you muse. look into the abyss long enough and the abyss begins to look back.

his pinky finger reaching through the darkness to brush the side of yours with slow and steady romance, his touch so erotic. yeah, just like that.

asking you to control the music, just so he can complain about every song you put on. you need to listen to monsta x, baby.

#monsta x

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girlwithwolftatoo · 5 years

Text

Your “eco-friendly fashion” can go and f*ck itself, and so you do.

Let me explain this: no, I don’t hate the eco-friendly trending of, actually, trying to get the less waste of products and similar stuff, for we need to be more responsible with the planet because, just as Starlord said, we are the idiots living on it.

The problem comes when this idea of a “green life” becomes just another fashion to follow, building another bloody capitalist industry around it so those poor nasty rich people feel a little less bad for basically being the ones who contributes at more than 50% of carbon emissions and contamination. What am I talking about? Let’s check some advices to contribute to help the enviroment which are in fact just pacifiers for first world, good wealth people:

Wasting reduction, a.k.a “my zero waste challenge”. Yes, plastic is the big villain at this moment, and to fight against it the population across the world is recomending the use of certain stuff to replace it, like glass recipents (fun fact: some idiotics enjoy saying how millenials are guilty for using plastic containers instead of glass like “my good ol’ granpa used to”, but hey, guess which generation started exploiding petroleum -where plastic comes from- to increase their wealth and reduce costs of production? One clue: not Millenials) or fabric bags. A good idea? Yes, until you remember most of the products like food come in plastic stuff, and I’m not just talking about that first world obssession for covering their fruit and veggies with fucking plastic when, hello, fruits and veggies ARE ALREADY PROTECTED BY THEIR SKIN, YOU JUST NEED TO FUCKING WASH IT A LITTLE BEFORE COOKING.

Yes, Karen, I know what you’re thinking, “Well, duh, if you don’t like plastic around your food go to an organic market, they have this lovelies glass or fabric containers, stop complaining and do what U need to do”. And here comes problem number two:

Organic everything, the new way to show how rich you are. I have some news for ya, except for the processed food, EVERYTHING IS ORGANIC. The only problem is you are afraid of “toxicity in food for pesticides and dark water” which, guess what, is pushed violently by your bloody wild capitalism in order to produce more food. And now a lot of stores selling you organic, zero-waste, green food is just part of the same system, it just puts a huge stick in front of your ecologic container swearing these overpriced carrot (which vitamins are THE SAME AS THAT DOUBLE-LEGGED CARROT PLACES LIKE FUCKING WAL-MART RATHER THROWS TO THE GARBAGE) is good and fair... yeees, you just need to make some researchs on internet to find out the “fair price” for the peasants and agriculture workers just doesn’t equals the price you are paying to your white, nice lady in white uniform attending your weekly shopping of “clean” veggies and soy and quinoa.

I know some countries aren’t used of local/producers market where you’re actually buying to the producer and paying a low price that goes directly to the field workers, but here’s a funny thing: the organic stores doesn’t just sell you the idea of “organic, ecologic” stuff, but the key word is “clean”, the idea of a mutant potato sounds “unclean” for them, because if it has a brother stuck in a side of it is because it was soaked in “evil chemistry stuff to make it grow like that”. Well, say thanks to Monsanto for covering the world with their bloody products who are actually doing worse damage than your ugly looking veggies, and all of it just to make money and provide you, person of a wealthy, capitalist, whitey country, of your organic stores and the rest of your nice stuff like year model car and Starbucks.

In short: organic stores are just face washed supermarkets feeding with the explotation of people in other countries, putting an enormous, unnecessary price to their stuff which not everybody can afford just to make you feel good and a planet savior.

The cow didn’t suffered, but what about Pablo? I know I’m entering a dangerous point here, but with these eco-friendly trending, veganism has been exploited like the panacea for everything, from enviroment contamination to poor cows and pigs crying in the farms. And yes, becoming more aware of the cruelty towards animals has been the iceberg peak to become more humans and protective to the other living forms in our society, and yes, the carnic industry tends to be awful and utterly disgusting... IN FIRST WORLD COUNTRIES.

This might sound shocking, but the images of cattle of any shape being tormented since the moment of birth are usually from USA, UK and similar “farms” which act more like a corporation in the middle of a field than like a real farm. Places like South and Central America has a carnic indsutry which works pretty different; you can actually see, in a daily basis, cows and goats walking free in the farm’s territory, eating as much as they want and sometimes getting involved in fights with cars on the road, and though this isn’t an excuse for the late slaughter, at least those aren’t creatures jailed and tortured inside a 5x5 box. Chickens are the same, for instead of killing the males the farms in Mexico and sibbling countries rather let them grow to become the source of meat, the hens aren’t eaten a lot in our culture so they live to lay eggs and they also have a nice life in comparison with their north-americans or european pals.

In other words: stopping meat consume doesn’t make you the person of the year, but fighting for animal rights and stop eating meat from massive industries will help a lot more than just hating everyone for getting a burger.

“But still I rather take vegan products, soy and quinoa and other stuff...” Uh, do you remember what I said about the organic stores selling you smoke and mirrors? Yes, perhaps none animal died because of your vegan product (at least not none of the cuties like baby cows and chubby pigs, just a bunch of insects which exists as part of the natural balance and very probably wild life), but a lot of people of third world countries certainly will. Illegal buy of land made by corporations to needy goverments, privatization of fucking water from local comunities in order to create and feed fields of “organic food”, child and indigenous abuse due to this “legal steal” of land and bad payed, forced work (because in the end, the poor need to, you know, fucking live even if it’s at the minimun wage)... All of this so the white lady who enjoys speaking to managers and drives a massive truck just for her and her two children, can go and buy her quinoa and post a pic on Instagram claiming how “nice and easy” is save the enviroment.

Oh, I know, I’m being too mean to that people, am I? I don’t fucking care, because the hidden part of this fashion, the worst part of this idea of “ecologic capitalism” comes with this only truth:

Poor people aren’t “eco-friendly”. Classism has become the key to keep this trending just made for the wealthy, the idea of poor people not being “good with the enviroment” comes from a lot of cultural ideas created by the vision of a thirds of the population. Rich people hates seeing images of countries like India, Colombia, Phillipines and similar because the images sell a complete lie which helps to keep them in a bubble: poor people eating fast food or buying things in plastic containers is gross and they think “Oh thank God I left that life style behind” as they drive his car leaving a lot of CO2 compared to those who takes public transport, that same public transport that looks disgusting in those images I’m talking about, because hat portion of the world has no money to get new vehicles every year, because they can’t #govegan because their only sources of a certain quality food is the normal food, those who doesn’ have a seal of aproval which claims how enviroment-savior is, because that lack of wealth forces them to work much more than people of France, Germany or USA and gaining much less than them, with so little time to think on “being green”, sometimes even with little time to cook natural food in their homes, and of course being unable to pay to an inmigrant to cook for them like... well, you know like who. And because these poor people, who works and dies because their country and the “free market” is pushing them to a modern slavery for international corps which provide to their targets, people who aren’t from the South of the tropics, white and wealthy, free of any guilt because they spend 50 bucks every week in organic coffee which was grounded in the last remains of an indigenous land and harvested for a dark-skin, 10 y/o boy who is forced to work instead of studying because all this economic machine made him part of the poorest side of the society, the idea of being “better than others”. Because they’re selling the idea that being a helper for the enviroment is easy, as long as you can afford it in their terms, becaus they’re making you think your green bag is making more for the world than stop and think how those who make that bag are being paid 5 cents of dollar at day in a dark little room in the East of the world, consumed by the greed and vanity of capitalism.

You can be eco-friendly without spending like an idiot in that special stores and markets. How? You can recycle when you’re able to, you can use public transport or walk for short distances instead of depending of your car, you can carry water in a bottle to avoid buying one-use bottles outside, you can support your local producers market and stop thinking of the “zero waste challenge” and making it the “less, well thinking waste daily basis”. And, for the love of any God you’re praying to, STOP SUPPORTING FUCKING MARKET CHAINS OF ALLEGEDLY VEGAN, GLUTEN-FREE, ECOLOGIC SHIT. If you have the time and money to make your own food or to spend less plastic, FUCKING DO IT FOR YOURSELF AND NOT VIA BUYING USELESS SHIT FROM THOSE COMPANIES.

This was my 2020 year advice, thanks for reading. If you want more info, you can search for “international agriculture explotation”, “organic food origin” and “most enviromental dangerous companies” in your favorite searcher.

#personal #enviroment #eco friendly #organic food #veganism #classism #international companies #food industry

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binkysteebnpewter · 4 years

Text

Grace’s 200 Celebration

I didn’t expect to get this far when I started but I love every single one of you lovelies 🥺💗 thank you so much

To celebrate getting to 200, I’ve collected 200 questions for you guys to send in to me: with a limit of 15 questions per ask (I’m looking at you @nightunite )

200 Celebration Questions

1. What is your middle name?

2. Do you have any nicknames that aren’t derived from your actual name?

2. Do you have any allergies?

4. What is the longest your hair has ever been?

5. How well can you write in cursive?

6. Name one item on your bucket list.

7. Have you ever been on a blind date?

8. do you have a porch?

9. How often do you eat out at a fancy restaurant?

10. How grammatically correct are you when you text?

11. Can you drive stick?

12. What foreign country would you most like to visit and why?

13. Nutella or peanut butter?

14. what do you order at mcdonalds?

15. tell me about you favourite primary school/elementary school teacher

16. Have you ever hosted a wild party?

17. what is your aesthetic?

18. have you ever been on a road trip?

19. Have you ever donated blood?

20. From 1-10, how much do you like decorating for holidays?

21. Coffee or tea?

22. What is your go-to Starbucks drink?

23. Last show you binge watched?

24. Dogs or cats?

25. Favorite animated Disney character?

26. Have you ever cooked a big family meal by yourself?

27. Favorite winter activity?

28. are you violent when you’re angry?

29. Can you blow a bubble gum bubble?

30. How early in the year do you start celebrating Christmas?

31. What emoji best describes your life right now?

32. Are you fluent in more than one language?

33. What is the longest you’ve ever kept a New Year’s resolution?

34. can you remember your last dream?

35. Are any of your grandparents still alive?

36. How good are you at communicating through facial expressions?

37. Have you ever gotten a commercial jingle stuck in your head?

38. Have you ever left a movie theater before the movie was over?

39. who was your first ever best friend?

40. Does your home have a fireplace?

41. Favorite non-chocolate candy?

42. do you get on with old people?

43. Have you ever locked your keys in your car?

44. Do you listen to any religious music?

45. Do you drink soda? If so, which one is your favorite?

46. do you cry when you’re angry?

47. Rice or quinoa?

48. From 1-10, how good of a driver do you consider yourself?

49. Do you like horror movies?

50. How easily do you cry?

51. how many months until your birthday?

52. You are hanging with your closest friends. What are you most likely doing?

53. does it ever snow where you live?

54. Can you play any musical instruments? If so, which ones?

55. Are you more introverted or extroverted?

56. what is your least favourite colour?

57. Do you like roller coasters?

58. What day of the week is laundry day for you?

59. Have you ever played spin the bottle?

60. How long have you known your best friend?

61. Can you eat using chopsticks?

62. Do you have any stickers on your laptop computer? If so, what are they of?

63. How often do you say y'all?

64. Favorite flavor of ice cream?

65. How long was your longest relationship? Are you still with that person?

66. Star Trek or Star Wars?

67. are you still friends with your first best friend?

68. Have you ever acted in a play or a musical?

69. How often do you read/pay attention to your horoscope?

70. What is the shortest your hair has ever been?

71. Have you ever broken any bones?

72. Do you like to go fishing?

73. do you have/are you the gay cousin?

74. Favorite costume you wore for Hallowen? How old were you?

75. Real or fake Christmas trees?

76. How many pillows do you sleep with?

77. Do you live in an apartment or a house?

78. How many of your friends are of the opposite gender?

79. Have you ever had a near-death experience?

80. what is your mum’s name?

81. who did you last talk to on the phone?

82. How flexible are you?

83. Have you ever ended a romantic relationship?

84. Phrase you say the most?

85. Have you ever kissed anyone of the same gender? If so, did you like it?

86. Do you own any homemade clothing?

87. Do you like fast food?

88. Have you ever given anyone CPR?

89. Have you ever learned to do anything from a how-to video on YouTube?

90. have you ever had a hickey?

92. Favorite cereal?

93. Have you ever auditioned for a reality competition show?

94. Have you ever gotten a TV theme song stuck in your head?

95. Do you believe in ghosts?

96. what does the last text you sent say?

97. Have you ever given money to a street performer?

98. Your deepest fear?

99. Pancakes or waffles?

100. Are you still friends with anyone from high school?

101. From 1-10, how good of a dancer do you consider yourself?

102. How much of a patient person are you?

103. Do you know your IQ?

104. Do you eat meat at all?

105. Do you own any clothes from a garage sale or a thrift store?

106. Have you ever bought anything from a flea market?

107. What do you think about the most?

108. Have you ever gotten a song you dislike stuck in your head?

109. Any movie(s) you can watch over and over and over again and enjoy just as much each time?

110. Do you or have you ever worn glasses?

111. Have you ever skinny dipped?

112. Are your birth parents still together?

113. Have you ever been in the audience for the taping of a TV show?

114. Favorite type of cookie?

115. Have you ever been broken up with?

116. How often do you smile when getting your picture taken?

117. Have you ever accidentally dialed 911?

118. Oldest memory?

119. Have you ever been the victim of a nasty prank?

120. How often do you snort when you laugh?

121. From 1-10, how good of a singer do you consider yourself?

122. Favorite Disney song?

123. Where do you see yourself 10 years from now?

124. What is your Myers-Briggs personality type?

125. Have you ever had a fortune cookie fortune come true?

126. Do you like to show affection?

127. Last musical artist you saw live?

128. Credit cards or cash?

129. Favorite fandom?

130. What is your astrological sign?

131. Complete the phrase: You cannot buy happiness, but you can buy____.

132. Any hidden talents?

133. Can you surf?

134. What motivates you to do well in life?

135. Your worst physical feature?

136. From 1-10, how much are you like your father?

137. How lucky do you consider yourself?

138. Name a moment in your life when you were pleasently surprised.

139. do you love yourself?

140. What type of shoes do you wear the most?

141. Favorite summer activity?

142. Favorite song to sing in the shower?

143. Have you ever lived with a roommate you did not get along with?

144. Have you ever lived on a farm?

145. Have you ever kept a diary or a journal?

146. TV show or movie you quote/reference the most?

147. How often do you get mad at yourself?

148. Have you ever gotten any stitches?

149. Have you ever been hunting?

150. Favorite YouTube channel?

151. Have you ever had a pet besides a dog or a cat?

152. From 1-10, how well do you work with others?

153. Are you friends with any of your exes?

154. Apple or PC?

155. Do you collect anything?

156. Have you ever seen any Broadway plays or musicals?

157. Any missed opporunites you wish you had taken?

158. what was the last reason you really cried?

159. Do you have a pool at your house?

160. What is the longest you’ve gone without sleep?

161. Last thing that made you laugh?

162. Disney or Nickelodeon?

163. Name one celebrity you wish was still alive.

164. From 1-10, how much are you like your mother?

165. Your best physical feature?

166. Earbud or earmuff headphones?

167. Have you ever wished you were born the opposite gender?

168. Do you have any piercings anywhere besides your ear lobes?

169. How often do you wash your hair?

170. Showers or baths?

171. Have you ever been a bridesmaid or a groomsman?

172. Bottled or tap water?

173. What was your favorite TV show when you were a kid?

174. Any guilty pleasures you’re willing to discuss?

175. Favorite video game?

176. Have you ever gotten a New Year’s kiss exactly at midnight?

177. How many of the United States have you visited?

178. Have you ever given money to a homeless person?

179. Have you ever gotten a surgery?

180. Your least favorite food?

181. From 1-10, how competitive are you?

182. Do you like wearing hats?

183. How much of a jealous peron are you?

184. are you an optimist? why or why not?

185. what’s a random history fact you know?

186. Does anyone in your family currently serve in your country’s military?

187. Snowboarding or skiing?

188. are you good at lying? what’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told?

189. Have you ever been a Boy or Girl Scout?

190. Have you ever dyed your hair?

191. From 1-10, how good of a cook do you consider yourself?

192. Do you have a significant other?

193. How many things can you do with your weaker hand?

194. Were you involved in any academic clubs in high school?

195. Have you ever played hooky from school?

196. Are you comfortable with watching rated R movies?

197. Do you root for any sports teams?

198. First thing you do when you wake up in the morning?

199. Tell something about yourself most people don’t know.

200. Your own question that you want me to answer

#grace speaks #200 follower celebration #200 questions celebration #send in some questions 🥺#im so thankful for you all 🥺💗#i love all yall lovelies 💗💗😚

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skullprincess · 6 years

Text

It’s been about 3 months since I started working at my current job at a bookstore so let’s break down the highlights

That time I got a call asking if we sell vitamins and I’m like “No... we’re a bookstore.”

The time my coworker got a call from someone asking if we sold nitric acid

The time I got a call from someone with a raspy voice asking for my coworker and that was all they wanted to know

That time someone tried to get downstairs via getting off the upstairs rail rather than walking down the stairs or using the elevator

The time I was in the Starbucks that is connected to our store and some guy came in yelling about Kavanaugh and a barista just shouted “get OUT” and after he left I made knowing eye contact with the gay barista there and they’re just like “so how’s YOUR day going??”

The time I walked into the large women’s stall and there was blood splattered on the wall and the floor (I think the splatters are still on the wall to this day)

The time I walked into the large women’s stall and on the baby changing station there was a package opened so I thought “Oh great another shoplifter” but it turned out to be a package for a vibrator that was from Spencer’s

The time I found a half-eaten pastry on the floor in the hallway of the bathrooms

There are too many horror stories about the mens’ room

The time I rang up an old lady and I asked her if she has a phone number for the bookstore membership and she said she does so I ask “Okay, what’s your phone number?” and she hands me her medicaid card and I check it but there’s no phone number on it so I’m like “no, I need your phone number” and this somehow confuses her, and I repeat my question, and then she starts saying her address and I’m like “no I need your PHONE NUMBER” and then she says she and her husbands’ name and starts giving me her damn address again and I’m like “NO I NEED YOUR PHONE NUMBER” and she FINALLY gives it to me

The one night someone left a huge rank wet spot on one of our chairs

The time the other day where I had to physically measure some books to make sure it’s the fucking size she wanted

The time a customer gave his number for the membership and it was 867-5309 as in the fucking Jenny song and I’d just come in and I was so tired and DONE but my coworker thought it was the funniest thing

The old lady who bought the newest Mamma Mia movie and she said it reminded her of how she used to be when she was younger and I was awkwardly laughing along like oh god

The cutest little girl with glasses who came up to me like 6 times in half an hour with questions about whether we had books in stock and what the prices for some things were, she was the most precious bookworm

That time these two girls came up to me and wanted to know the price of their gift card and I said sure but they handed me 6 gift cards

The time a mom and daughter came in and got a Jane Goodall book and Mein Kampf at the same time and then like a week later returned both books

The time a twenty-something guy came in with his mom and he was wearing that fucking ahegao sweater and I couldn’t look him in the eyes because OH GOD does she KNOW? Does YOUR MOM KNOW??

The time my tall coworker put on Dobby ears while sorting children into houses for our Harry Potter event and scared some children

The time someone left some brand new (albeit stolen) red Levi’s in the store and they were put with the rest of the lost and found which currently includes a shit ton of reusable water bottles

The time a guy asked me the price of the batteries we sold, then guessed my ethnicity wrong multiple times until I told him, and then left

The “blatant drug deal” that once happened upstairs

My coworker getting frustrated that he couldn’t find the kids’ Sports Illustrated on the computer system because it wasn’t called “Sports Illustrated Kids”, it was called “Sports Illus”

The time a firetruck passed by and I was like “That’s my ride” and my coworker’s like “the firetruck’s your ride?” and I’m like “yeah cuz I’m on FIRE” and nobody laughed

The time accidentally asked “What can I get you today?” instead of “Did you find everything alright today?” because I forgot I wasn’t working in the coffee shop

The time my coworker and I discovered that the chocolates were 75% off and she made a whole pile of chocolates to buy

I’ll add on if I remember more

#lifegambols

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phoutube · 6 years

Text

while the rhythm of the rain keeps time: chapter two

ao3 link (kudos appreciated!)

from the beginning: ao3

Rating: General Audiences (subject to change)

Pairing: Dan Howell/Phil Lester

Chapter Word Count: 4,604

Full Word Count: 8,670

Summary: Phil didn’t very much like the rain, but at the same time, he didn’t very much dislike it, either.

It had a distinctly lonely feeling, like if he allowed himself to get lost in the sights and sounds and smells of the rain everything else would disappear and he’d become the only person in the world.

A little odd, yes, but some days he’d ache for this feeling. He wasn’t sure why, but sometimes all he’d crave was utter solitude, so he’d have space to think his own thoughts and exist without being a bother to anyone else.

a/n: a special thanks to my beta readers, @freckliedan, @shrugs-are-kinky, and @edgylester for making this fic possible! Go show them some love!

likes and reblogs appreciated!!

Chapter Two: Melt Your Headaches, Call It Home

Phil didn’t very much like the rain, but at the same time, he didn’t very much dislike it, either.

It was okay, he supposed.

It made his mornings a bit slower, he mused, but it was also kind of peaceful, listening to it pound the outside world tirelessly.

The rain was melancholy and somber, and it put Phil in an odd sort of mood where all he wanted to do was lay down outside in the grass and let it wash over him.

If it was warm enough. Cold rain was the worst. He was staying inside for that shit.

Today, unfortunately, he didn’t have any time to ponder the different ways rain made him feel, because he had a double shift at the Starbucks next to Tesco and it started in less than an hour and he hadn’t even gotten out of bed.

He’d recently taken up a second, part-time job because as it turns out, a job in graphic design didn’t exactly make the most money--and to put it bluntly, he was broke as fuck.

He went in to the office three times a week, and was expected to finish his assigned projects at home if they hadn’t been completed at work. Which was all fine and dandy, but the little ADHD monster that lived in his brain tended to grab the controls and make him do something utterly ridiculous like hyperfixate on the interesting article he was reading about children’s brain development instead of doing literally anything else he was supposed to.

He had actually been offered a home office, which would have been excellent in the fact that he would have been able to wear nothing but socks and a pair of boxers while working, but it also meant that he probably would have ended up lying on his back and watching the blades of the fan spinning and trying to count how many times they go around in a minute instead of getting any work done.

He was glad, at least, for the fact he had a steady income and he didn’t absolutely hate his job, no matter how slow it got sometimes.

Anyway, whenever it got boring he’d always end up doodling straight onto the desk he was sitting at (he’d have to wipe it off later) or coming up with elaborate daydreams in his head about scenarios that were completely unrealistic (that was the fun part).

Speaking of daydreaming--Phil reluctantly pulled himself back into the present and realized that he’d wasted ten minutes allowing his mind to wander as he sat in bed, being about as useful as a garbage bag full of rocks.

That was the one thing he didn’t like about his job--his mind wasn’t allowed to wander or else he’d lose track of time and five minutes turned into ten and ten minutes turned into thirty and suddenly he’d been thinking about absolutely nothing for the better part of an hour.

Unfortunately for Phil, he got most of his best ideas when he let his mind roam free, and sitting at a desk all day was the perfect way to kill all of his inspiration.

He wasn’t completely oblivious to what was going on inside his mind, however; he had seen a doctor about medication for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder and while it had worked pretty well at first, at some point or another the doses stopped working as well and it felt like the pills were only taking all his ADHD-fueled ideas and guiding them in the general direction of where they were supposed to go. The side effects were also awful--sometimes it seemed like any noise that was too loud or sudden could launch him into a panic attack and he often felt like vomiting.

He hadn’t had the time to go back to the doctor who had prescribed them in the first place, and so he’d just put the bottle on a high shelf and tried to forget about it.

Alongside battling his attention-disorder, Phil also had to deal with being both physically and mentally exhausted to the point of breaking due to his new part-time as a Starbucks barista.

He barely had any free time, either, and he usually spent his blessed days off sleeping for fourteen hours and ordering takeaway and playing Mario Kart on his couch alone.

Lovely.

With these thoughts in mind, Phil finally rolled out of his bed and dressed in the boring all-black that his job required he wear.

His mind still muddled with sleep (though thankfully warmed up by his wandering thoughts), Phil shuffled his way into the kitchen to get breakfast.

Pulling the coffeemaker towards himself and shoveling generous amounts of ground coffee inside it, Phil wondered if he’d have time to shower before heading to work. Probably not.

He lived close enough to walk to the cafe where he worked (not that he particularly wanted to--it was all drizzly and cold outside) and so he never had to worry about finding a method of transportation (he was awful at driving, the Tube gave him anxiety, and he didn’t have money to spare on cabs). He had a bit of time before he had to leave, enough to finish breakfast and sit and stare at the kitchen counter beneath his mug (or perhaps the telly) and wonder whether it was really worth getting out of bed this early for a job.

Shuffling around the kitchen and pulling a box of cereal from a cabinet, Phil made himself The Breakfast of Champions with little more than dry cereal and a big enough bowl (likely because of all the times his mum had chastised him for eating cereal with his hands straight out of the box, which resulted in a squirmy guilty feeling every time he did it).

There was, however, no point in using a spoon for dry cereal, which really only meant less dishes to wash later.

Pushing his glasses up his nose and sitting in front of the television, Phil wondered whether he could turn it on and watch half an episode without all his self-control going down the drain. Considering… er, previous events, Phil decided to keep the telly off or else he very well might end up marathoning The Office or Food Wars! instead of going to work like he was supposed to.

At least he knew what he was doing tonight.

Before he knew it, fifteen minutes had passed and he had to be at work in ten and he hadn’t even gotten his shoes on- but that was okay because they were just by the door, and so were his house keys-

Running back into his room to grab his phone and to turn off all the lights, Phil skidded back through the kitchen and nearly hit his head on a cabinet door he had forgotten to close.

Damn cabinets.

Phil slid his shoes on and slammed the door behind himself, barely remembering to lock it.

Walking briskly through the lobby of the apartment complex (his flat was on the ground floor, which was by far the Least Cool place he’s ever lived) and stepping through the double doors, Phil immediately found himself standing in the pouring rain.

He wished, as he always did whenever it rained, that he owned an umbrella.

It’s not like an umbrella is always first on his mental list of Things To Buy whenever he went to the store--after all, there were always much cooler and conventionally useful (he had always had trouble preparing for the future--which was why he currently lived on the first floor of an apartment building with one job in graphic design and another at Starbucks).

Phil resigned himself to walking along the sidewalk, already soaking wet and freezing. For God’s sake, it was June! Why was it so bloody cold outside?

Checking his phone and realizing that his shift was supposed to start in three minutes, Phil started walking slightly faster. He could always blame the rain for his tardiness.

By the time he finally set foot in the coffee shop and stepped behind the counter, the rain had relented slightly (although Phil was still very wet).

At the sound of his arrival, Devon (the shift manager) turned and regarded him with a look of slight disapproval.

“Phil, you’re late. Again.”

Phil swallowed. “I’m sorry, Devon- I lost track of time and it was pouring rain and I uh, forgot my umbrella-”

Devon dropped their stony disposition and grinned. “Yeah Phil, I’m sure you forgot your umbrella that totally exists. C’mon, we were gonna draw straws-” They guestured in the general direction of Alex and Liz, who waved, “-but since you’re the late one, you get to wipe the tables!”

Phil groaned exaggeratedly.

“C’mon, Devon, I did that last week! Besides, I’m all wet and-”

Devon held up their hand to hush Phil, and turned towards the back room, chucking an old towel at Phil.

Phil then proceeded to get hit in the face with said old towel, to which the people behind him burst out laughing.

Ignoring Liz and Alex’s giggling, Phil ripped the towel off his face and surveyed Devon with a look of mock disgust on his face.

“Fine,” Phil said haughtily, “but believe me, you’ll regret making me do this!”

Devon snickered.

“C’mon Lester, we don’t have time for dramatics. Just wipe the damn tables down and be done with it, okay?”

Phil rolled his eyes, hiding a smile on his face. Doing actual work might suck, but at least he wasn’t totally alone. His coworkers were pretty cool.

After wiping the tables down, Phil was instructed to make drinks for the morning stragglers with Liz as Alex manned the registers. Devon was in the back doing inventory- something that Phil was very glad he wasn’t in charge of.

Making drinks was fairly simple for the most part--save for the insanely complicated ones. Phil still hadn’t gotten the hang of doing the fancy ones with the custom flavors and customers who knew the menu better than he did--especially the Starbucks “secret menu,” which simply took drinks that already tasted good and added a bunch of complicated ingredients to them. Liz was in charge of those. Phil was fine with making lattes and frappuccinos and tea for now.

He and Liz made a great team, with Devon scrawling the abbreviation of the drinks on the cups and passing them to Phil, who glanced at the order and determined whether or not he could make themself. If not, he would have to pass them to Liz, who had been here for years and knew every possible combination like the back of her hand (that metaphor confused Phil. There wasn’t really anything that distinguished the back of one hand from another, unless you had a tattoo or something). Phil had only been here about a month, which immediately meant he was tasked with the more physical jobs, like sweeping the floor after the shop closed and taking care of the registers when nobody else wanted to.

Phil, Liz, and Alex continued working until about ten-thirty, when the lunch rush was just beginning.

That was when Alex, who looked even more exhausted than usual, took off her apron and hung it in the back. Devon stepped out, and stood in front of Liz and Phil.

There was a chocolate chip in their hair.

“Okay guys, Alex is taking her break and I need Phil to watch after the registers. I’ll be helping Liz make the drinks, and as soon as Alex is back, she’ll help Phil. Got it?”

They all nodded. Alex walked out the back door, likely to go sit at the plastic table out back. In the pouring rain. Sometimes Phil admired Alex for her complete inability to give a shit.

Phil took up his place at the register, and plastered on a smile for the growing queue of customers waiting to order.

God, people were scary.

Taking orders was quite stressful, and he had to remember the correct abbreviations of the drinks and try to understand what the customer said their name was- Riley? It was probably spelled Reileigh or Rylie (he’d had both already) or some other monstrosity sent from hell.

It was during a lull in business that Phil took the opportunity to slump against the counter and stare at the door to the shop, desperately hoping for no one else to walk through so he wouldn’t have to get up.

Devon looked at him pityingly.

Phil glanced down at the counter, swaying slightly and studying the swirling design of the plastic countertop and the crumbs that had managed to stick there.

Lo and behold, someone else stepped into the shop, and Phil smiled automatically while stepping forward to take their order.

An hour later, his head throbbed from talking to so many people, and with a nod from Devon, Phil stepped out of view from the customers and perched himself on an old stool in the corner.

This was exhausting.

Tipping his head back against the wall and closing his eyes, Phil took a few deep breaths. Only a few hours until his break, and Devon was being kind enough to let him relax for a few minutes.

He was already so tired, but that didn’t mean he could slack off his job like this.

After a few minutes of sitting down, he’d surely be able to stand up again and go back to work without wanting to die.

...Okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but Phil was a gay twenty-something and also happened to be exhausted to the point of collapsing. He figured he could cut himself some slack.

When the boy with curls damp from the rain and eyes the color of the coffee Phil was making stumbled into the shop like some great force of nature, Phil couldn’t help but glance up.

And he kept glancing, but then he somehow ended up taking longer looks that lasted only a few seconds and then only a few seconds turned to even more seconds until suddenly Phil realized he’d been outright staring at the man for at least a minute.

Behind him, Liz cleared her throat loudly.

“You can’t stare at the pretty boy while I do all the work, Lester,” she teased.

Phil nodded, taking his eyes off the stranger and finishing the iced tea he was making.

At that moment, Alex stepped back into the store, her short hair soaking wet and her clothes dripping water on the floor.

“I’m off my break,” she announced.

“You do know that someone will have to clean that up later, right?” Devon inquired dryly.

Alex said nothing and stepped behind the counter, putting her apron back on and gesturing drippingly to Phil to help her with the cash registers.

Devon sighed and stepped back to help Liz with the drinks.

It was at this moment that the boy (who was still slightly damp and who also seemed to be having some internal battle) stood up from his seat and made his way over to the counter.

Phil’s heart did a funny swoop thing and he was pretty sure he could hear the blood rushing through his ears.

Did he really fall apart this easily whenever an attractive person breathed in his direction? Honestly.

The stranger, who still hadn’t noticed Phil yet, surveyed the pastry cases and stepped closer to study the menu.

With a jolt, he seemed to realize that Phil was there, and proceeded to stare at him, a slight blush tinting his cheeks.

Phil was aware of the fact that his own face was likely bright red.

“Er, hello,” Phil began. “I’m Phil. What can I get for you today?”

It was a miracle he hadn’t embarrassed himself already.

“Oh, er, well- I, I actually haven’t decided yet? I mean, uh, yeah.” The stranger’s tongue seemed to trip over itself in an attempt to get the words out. “Sorry,” he added as an afterthought.

Phil felt his heart soften at the boy’s nervous stuttering.

“It’s fine. Take your time! It’s not like I’m going anywhere,” Phil managed, and then felt himself cringe as he realized that it probably sounded he was implying that the boy needed Phil to make an order, or something. God. Why was Phil always embarrassing himself like this?

The stranger cleared his throat, and Phil snapped back to the present.

“I- could I actually have, um, the er, the Caramel Mocha Latte? That’s good, right?” He paused, considering. “Could I also get an, er, a blueberry muffin?”

“What size?”

The man blinked. “Sorry?”

“What, er, size do you want your drink?”

“Oh, sorry. Um, medium, I reckon.”

Phil nodded, pulling a grande cup towards him. “Could I get a name?”

The stranger looked confused for a second, and then seemed to realize what Phil meant.

“Oh, right. Uh, Dan.”

His name was Dan.

Phil scribbled that on the cup, along with the abbreviation for the drink.

“That’ll be, er, £8 .50. Cash or card?”

Dan, who had seemed to be staring off into space, seemed to jolt himself back into the present. Phil could relate.

“Oh, yes, card, sorry,” Dan said, fumbling for his wallet and extracting a credit card.

Phil nodded and took it. Dan’s eyes were very pretty. So were his curls, and the light dusting of freckles across his nose- Phil shouldn’t be thinking about this.

Dan, as if oblivious to the effect he was having on Phil, seemed fascinated with the way Phil’s hands moved as they swiped the card.

If the twinge of pink lining his cheeks were anything to go by, Phil could guess that it was either very cold outside or Dan was still embarrassed about the loud entrance he had made a few minutes previously. There had to be a reason he was blushing like that, right?

Phil handed the card back to Dan, who now appeared to be staring at Phil’s mouth. Embarrassed, Phil wondered whether he had food stuck on his upper lip or if he had missed a spot shaving that morning.

Ducking his head and reaching into the pastry case, Phil pulled out Dan’s muffin. Tucking it into a paper bag, he set it on the countertop between them.

Clearing his throat, Phil waited for Dan’s gaze to snap back up to his own. God, his eyes were gorgeous.

“Er, your drink will be ready in a few minutes over there-” he gestured towards the end of the counter, “-and here’s your muffin! Enjoy your food,” Phil added, smiling at Dan.

Dan smiled back. He had a dimple. Phil immediately wanted to kiss it. He also wanted to bury his face in the crook of Dan’s neck and stay there for a while, but he had a job to do and also Dan was a complete stranger and- God, Phil was probably so creepy for thinking like this.

As if on cue, Dan took the muffin between them and gave Phil an awkward wave before walking back over to his table and sitting down.

Turning back to face his coworkers, Phil was immediately unsurprised to see all three of them gaping at him. Even Alex.

“That was literally the most awkward interaction I have ever seen.” Devon said, their hand over their face.

“Oh my God you guys, get a room,” Liz quipped, trying not to laugh.

Alex just stared, an expression of shame on her face. “God, Lester, what was that? Have you ever successfully flirted with anyone, I don’t know, ever?”

Phil rolled his eyes, his heart beating unfairly fast in his chest. “Can you guys just make the drink? I wasn’t even trying to flirt at all! I was just taking his order! He probably doesn’t even like guys, for fuck’s sake.”

Devon snickered. “You mean to tell me, the master of gaydar, that that man wasn’t ogling your ass when you turned around to get his damn muffin?”

Phil sighed. These people were relentless.

Alex grabbed his shoulders, looking like she was ready to shake him. “Phil, I swear, if you don’t have that guy’s number by the time he leaves this place, I am going to personally walk to his house and get it myself. You hear?”

Phil shrugged her off. “C’mon guys, seriously. Can you just make his drink?”

Liz raised an eyebrow. Devon smirked. They all backed off a little, although the looks they shot each other definitely meant they weren’t going to leave this alone.

A few minutes later, Dan’s drink was ready and Phil had taken orders from three more customers. Liz had called Dan’s name and he had come up to collect it--and Phil definitely didn’t miss the intense stares all of his coworkers had given Dan as he walked away.

“Nice ass,” Alex commented slyly, eyeing Phil to see his reaction.

Phil resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Again. Honestly, at some point his eyeballs were going to pop out of his head and onto the floor, just like his mum told him they would when he was a teenager.

Phil’s co-workers weren’t the only ones staring at Dan, though. Phil had to admit it was actually quite hard to keep his eyes off the man’s figure, hunched over the table and scribbling in what looked like a journal of some sort.

He was left-handed. Phil wasn’t sure why that was important to him, but it was.

Once or twice, he was sure that Dan was looking at him as well. It was hard to tell, though, and anyway, why would someone as pretty as Dan be looking at Phil?

When it was nearing the end of Phil’s shift and he was glancing anxiously at the clock every few seconds, Devon seemed to take notice of this and casually made their way over to Dan, who was still sitting at his little table.

Phil was too far away to properly hear what was going on, but when Devon first began to speak, Dan’s head jerked up, like he hadn’t expected anyone to take notice of him.

Dan only seemed to look further confused as Devon went on, but when they jerked their head back in the direction of the cash registers, Phil began to have an idea of what was going on. Dear God, he wished he didn’t.

Hiding his face in his hands, Phil wished dearly that Devon had only walked over to inquire about the quality of Dan’s drink, or the weather, or literally anything other than what Phil knew it was about.

Peeking through his fingers, Phil saw just in time Dan scribbling something on a napkin and offering it to Devon. Dan’s face was quite red.

When Devon turned around with a smile big enough to engulf their face, Phil groaned and stood up fully, hands gripping the countertop.

Dan, whose face was still beet-red, stared at the floor and tucked one ankle behind the other nervously. Phil turned his attention back to Devon, who slapped the napkin down on the counter proudly.

“You’re welcome, Lester. I just got you a pretty boy’s number, and you bet your ass you will call him, or I’ll do it for you! ”

Phil sighed. “Like how you got his number from him for me as well?”

Devon rolled their eyes. “C’mon, I’m doing you a favor. He was so cute about it too! I thought if his face got any redder, he’d explode!”

Devon looked at him expectantly.

Phil swiped the napkin off the counter and tucked into his pocket. “There. Happy?”

“Obviously.”

Phil was sitting in his flat.

The rain was still drizzling outside, and the sounds of it hitting the pavement echoed off the tall London buildings and created a peaceful, rumbling sound--like a cat purring loudly or the far-off sounds of a train on the railroad.

The sun was setting, and the darkening sky seemed to breathe with the city, creating that special sense of calm that only a rainstorm at night could produce.

All the curtains in his flat were open, as if trying to welcome the last streaks of washed-out daylight left in the world, and the room was getting darker and darker at such a pace that if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to watch it happening.

Phil, oblivious to the rest of the world, was clutching a brown, wrinkly Starbucks napkin with pen marks messily scratched onto its surface.

His handwriting was adorable. It had a slight left slant, and he had drawn a smiley face next to where he had scrawled his number for Phil.

His number. For Phil.

Phil wondered if he had even gotten out of bed that morning or if this was all a dream.

God, he hoped not.

It was around six in the evening, and Phil, in lieu of turning on Netflix and binging a series like he normally would, was sitting on his couch with his phone in his hand and debating whether to call the number on the napkin.

Oh God, what if it was fake? What if Dan had just given a pretend number to make Devon go away? Phil wouldn’t blame him. Oh God. This was so embarrassing. Phil didn’t even know what Devon had said to acquire the number, and to be completely honest, he didn’t want to know.

This was nerve-wracking.

Should he call or text? A call might look like he was trying too hard, but a text might look like he wasn’t trying enough- oh, he was insane. He definitely wasn’t going to call Dan. Did he have a deathwish? Phone calls were awful.

Before he could overthink it, Phil typed out a quick text.

Hey, Dan. It’s me, Phil, from Starbucks!

Okay, that was simple enough. Phil highly doubted Dan had met another person named Phil and had also given them his number on the same day, but it never hurt to make sure, right?

Phil sent it before his brain’s irrational panicking could get in the way, and tossed his phone down on the coffee table as if it were a bomb.

Staring at it, Phil waited for something, anything, to happen.

Nothing happened.

Phil was forced to acknowledge the fact that no, sending a text before he got the chance to over-think it was definitely not a guaranteed way to stop his anxiety from going into overdrive. If anything, it was worse.

Flopping back against the couch, Phil stared up at the ceiling. Maybe it was a fake number. Dan probably wasn’t going to reply, and Phil would never be able to face his coworkers after this embarrassment.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed with an incoming text, and Phil lunged for it.

hi phil! to what (or whom, i suppose) do i owe this pleasure? :)

Grinning to himself in the semi-darkness of his flat, Phil typed out a response to the boy with the coffee-colored eyes and a blush that happened to be the exact shade of the begonias growing in the dirt outside the building.

Maybe rain wasn’t quite so melancholy after all.

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nympha-doras · 6 years

Text

It Happened One Night

Summary: Here it comes. He’s going to tell her that kissing her was a huge mistake, and should never happen again. It’ll hurt to hear, but it’s not a surprise. She went into this with her eyes wide open. She braces herself for the blow. Only the blow doesn’t come. He tells her that while he’s not over the death of his wife and a part of him will always love her, he can’t grieve forever. “Maybe it’s time I stop looking at the past, start looking at the future. Maybe explore some of those possibilities you mentioned.” // Post 1x09. Lucy sprained her ankle in 1934, Wyatt helps her out back in the present.

FFnet / AO3

I apologise for being gone for so long. I apologise for not updating I'll Show You the Way - and for leaving it the way I did - in so long. I have no real excuse, but I promise that's the next update you'll get!

Thankyou to @angellwingsffn for helping me out with this fic! I love you more than coffee in the morning ;)

“How’s the ankle?” Wyatt nods his head to the leg Lucy has propped up on the bench. He grabs the dress draped beside her and hands both of their costumes to a passing attendant, while she focuses on slipping her sneaker over her foot without jarring her ankle.

She pauses in her actions to send him a soft smile and a shrug. “Just a sprain. I’ll live.”

“Maybe so, but will you be okay to drive home?” He raises his eyebrows at her. He’s driven with a sprained ankle himself, it’s not something he’d recommend.

She’d been planning on doing just that, but the look on his face tells her he isn’t going to let her. Lucy falters a moment, choosing her next words carefully. “I uh… I…” Why is her brain failing her now!? Her phone buzzes beside her and she snatches it up. It’s just an app update, but the app flashing on the screen gives her an idea.

“I ordered an Uber.” She says with confidence.

He doesn’t buy it. Damnit.

“Uh huh.” He nods slowly. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

The car he directs her to comes as no surprise. A Mustang is the exact car she expected him to drive - a darker colour maybe, navy or black she would have guessed - but the silver suits him well. It’s not as tidy as she expected it to be though. She’s seen the inside of his locker after returning from a mission. His clothes neatly folded and placed carefully on the shelf, with his boots lined up neatly in the bottom. A stark contrast to her own locker, where she’s just carelessly thrown everything in. In her defence though, the dresses she is required to wear - especially those pre 1910 - don’t leave her much time to carefully fold everything, before she has to jump in the lifeboat and Rufus is piloting them through time and space. There are a few jumpers and spare t-shirts strewn on the back seat, and she thinks she can see a couple pairs of boots in the foot well. There’s a takeaway cup from Starbucks in one of the holders between the front seats, along with a crumpled up piece of paper stuffed in the other. The remains of his breakfast she assumes. She raises her eyebrows at the mess, and then up at him.

“What?” He says defensively.

Lucy shakes her head. “No, nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” They both slide into the car. Wyatt doesn’t start the engine like she expects him to, instead he turns and stares at her. “What’s wrong with my car?”

“It’s just not as tidy as I expected it to be. That’s all.” She shrugs.

He raises his eyebrows at her. “Why? What did you expect?”

Lucy drops her head back and and closes her eyes, wishing she’d never said anything now. “I’ve seen the inside of your locker and how you are on missions. Everything all neat and tidy. I just expected the same of your car.”

He doesn’t say any more, just sits there and looks at her. She’s not quite sure what he’s looking for, but the longer he stares, the more uncomfortable she gets. She shifts under his gaze. “Are we just going to sit here, or am I uncancelling that Uber?”

Wyatt laughs and shakes his head, before he turns and switches the engine on. “That was an app update, and we both know it.” He says as he puts the car in drive and speeds away.

Lucy doesn’t know how Wyatt knows her address. She didn’t tell him and he didn’t ask. She’s not sure she wants to know how or why he knows it, but he pulls up in front of the right house regardless. There’s an awkward pause as he switches the engine off and she removes her seatbelt. Wyatt wants to stick around, to keep her company for a while - he can’t see any sign of her mother being home - Lucy wants him to do just that, but neither of them are willing to admit as much out loud.

She takes a deep breath and turns to him. “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem.” He shrugs. “Ma’am.”

Lucy shakes her head, exasperated. “I thought I told you not to call me that?”

“What would you rather I call you then, babydoll?”

The nickname resurfaces feelings she’d pushed down back in 1934. What she wouldn’t give for him to call her that seriously, and not teasing her. Though she knows he won’t ever. As long as time travel exists, he’s going to do everything he can to get his wife back. She has no idea the same thought is currently running through his own mind.

She gathers her things from the floor. The door is open and she has one foot out of the vehicle, when she turns back to him. “You in a rush to get home, sweetheart? My mom’s out late tonight, so I wouldn’t say no to some company.” Two can play at that game, though her question comes out far more flirtatious than she intends it to.

He regards her for a moment. He shouldn’t. Spending time with her outside of work is likely to bring up feelings he’s tried so hard to push down and repress. Feelings he shouldn’t be feeling, because there’s still a chance he can get Jessica back. He accepts the invitation anyway. He can’t say no to her, especially with the tone in her voice.

Pulling the keys from the ignition, he exits the car and follows her up the path. The awkwardness between them returns when they enter the house. Wyatt follows Lucy as she hobbles her way through to the kitchen. A part of him wants to reach out to her, to wrap his arm around her waist and help her. Though there’s a part of him screaming at him not to, that that would be inappropriate, that friends don’t wrap their arms around their friends waist. And thats what they are, right? Friends. But friends don’t let friends struggle when they’re clearly in pain and need help. So he steps forward, catches her around the waist, and pulls her weight off her sprained ankle.

She brings her hand up to grip his shoulder, steadying herself. “Thanks.” She mutters.

Wyatt deposits her on the sofa, before bending down to carefully pull her sneakers off her feet. He pushes them under the coffee table out of the way - he knows how clumsy she can be, he doesn’t want her spraining the other ankle - before he toes off his own boots, and slides them under next to hers. “You have any ice? Or some frozen veg or something I can put on this ankle? Keep the swelling down?”

Lucy attempts to rise at his question, supposedly heading to the freezer to grab something herself, but he doesn’t let her get very far before he’s pushing down on her shoulders and back onto the sofa. “Stay. You need to keep your weight off this ankle.”

She frowns at his command. “I didn’t realise I’d turned into a dog.”

He crowds into her space at her comment, his face inching closer and closer to hers. She’s not sure what he’s doing, or why. A part of her hopes he’s going in for another kiss, but surely he’d have already done that by now if it was going to happen again. Right?

The playful “woof.” he lets out is the last thing she expects and has her bursting out with laughter, her face lighting up. She’s never seen this side of Wyatt Logan. She rather likes it.

Wyatt joins her in laughter as he makes his way over to the freezer.

“Will you grab me some wine while you’re there, please?” She flashes pleading eyes at him over the top of the sofa. “There should be an open bottle in the fridge, and glasses in the cupboard to the right of you.”

He nods his acquiescence to her, but when he returns, it’s not a glass of wine and bag of frozen veg he brings with him, but rather a bottle of water and a bag of frozen veg. She frowns up at him, wincing slightly when he places the frozen veg on her swelling ankle. “That’s not wine.”

“Astute observation, professor.” He smirks up at her, holding out the water. She’s reluctant to take it. “But I’ve had plenty of sprained ankles myself, and I know the painkillers they give you. You can’t drink with them.”

She goes to protest, but the look he gives her has her stopping before she’s even started. He sits beside her and takes a moment, taking her in, before he starts to shift nervously. “Besides, uh…”

His eyes flick down to where his hands are rubbing together slowly, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Besides, what?” Lucy smiles at him softly.

Wyatt takes a deep breath, as he tucks one leg up beneath him and turns to face her. “Something happened on the mission today. Something I think we need to talk about with clear minds.”

She’s not quite sure what he’s referring to, not until she notices his eyes trained on her lips. Oh. “You mean…”

“I kissed you.” He exclaims.

“Yeah…” She nods slowly, not quite sure where he’s going with this. Does he regret it? Does he wish he’d never done it? She daren’t hope it’s the opposite. She can’t allow her hopes to rise like that, only for them to fall flat when he tells her it shouldn’t have happened.

“I…” What he wants to say, he knows won’t be easy for her to hear. It’s something he needs to say though. For both of their sakes. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Oh.” It’s not what she would have liked him to have said, but she understands. It hurts, but she understands. “No, yeah, I get it. We had to sell it or they would have-”

“-Yeah. Just playing a role.” A part of him hoped she would fight him on this. That she would tell him it wasn’t just a role, tell him it meant something to her… Tell him that she wanted to explore the possibilities with him. But it’s not who she is, and he loves who she is.

Neither know quite what to say now. Okay, they both know what they want to say, but neither have the courage to come out and say it, so they simply sit and stare. The ping of Lucy’s phone from inside her bag, breaks the spell. She can’t quite reach it where it sits on the coffee table - not without jolting her ankle, which she’s really trying not to do, after the pain she experienced when putting her shoes on back at Mason Industries. Without a word, Wyatt reaches forward and grabs it for her, pulling out her phone.

He doesn’t mean to catch a glimpse of the text she’s just received, but it’s not his fault her phone lights up when pulls it out of her bag, and it’s not his fault that she has her message previews set to always show, rather than to just show when unlocked. When he sees Noah is the sender, he pauses. Of course the guy pops up now. He doesn’t give Lucy chance to read the messages herself, before he’s flinging the phone onto the coffee table, muttering “Fuck it.”, and surging forward to catch her lips with his.

A million thoughts swim through her mind - make that a million and one - as his lips crash with hers. She stays frozen, not quite sure what to do. She wants nothing more than to melt into him, to wrap her arms around his neck and run her fingers through his hair. But only moments ago was he telling her that kissing her in 1934 was a mistake, that it shouldn’t have happened. His tongue running along the seam of her lips, begging for entrance, has her making her mind up. She opens to him, only allowing herself to melt when his tongue finds hers.

With any other guy, she’d be fighting him for dominance right now, asserting her independence. But Wyatt isn’t any other guy, and she is quite happy to sit back and let him devour her. He does just that. She brings her arms up to wrap around his neck, her fingers inching up into his hair, as he rises onto his knees and pushes her back to lay across the sofa.

Neither hear the car pulling up outside, nor the second car. Neither hear the click of heels on the concrete, or the voices growing louder and louder as they greet each other with surprise. Neither hear the key turning in the lock, or the footsteps approaching them.

It’s like a bucket of iced water is poured over them, as Carol and Noah step into the room. They tear themselves apart, Wyatt shooting up off the sofa and standing before Lucy’s mother and Fiancé. He’s stood tall and straight, his hands clasped behind his back. Looking at him, you’d think he was stood before his commanding officer back at Pendleton. This is arguably worse.

“Mom. Noah.” Lucy attempts to stand, but stops and holds her hands up in surrender when Wyatt turns to glare at her. The flirtatious smile she sends him as well is probably a mistake considering their current company.

“Lucy?” The hurt in Noah’s voice has her flinching. “I don’t…”

She wants to say something to make things better, to calm him down. But there are no words that are the truth, that she can say to fix things. None that won’t hurt him anyway.

He sighs and shakes his head. “I came here to apologise for our date the other night, and you’re here fucking some other guy like, some kind of slut?”

Wyatt’s gaze flicks to Noah, his eyes narrowing. “I’d choose your next words carefully if I were you.”

Noah takes no notice of Wyatt as he steps forward and around Wyatt, hovering over Lucy. “How many other guys have you fucked since we got engaged, huh?”

Wyatt turns to see Lucy cowering in the corner of the sofa, the same corner he’d just been pressing her into with his body. He reaches out and grips Noah’s arm, tugging him away from her. “Okay, that’s enough.”

Noah shrugs Wyatt off of him, stepping back and heading towards the front door. He stops by the kitchen island, and turns back to him. “You’re welcome to the little whore.”

Carol’s cry of “Okay, that’s enough!” comes seconds before Wyatt marches forward and grips the front of Noah’s shirt. He knows he shouldn’t. He knows Lucy wouldn’t want him to - it’s not exactly the best first impression for her mother either - but he can’t help it. He can’t let anyone talk about her like that. Wyatt doesn’t give Noah time to react, to defend himself, before he’s bringing his arm up and sending his closed fist flying straight at Noah’s face.

Lucy winces, though she’s not sure if it was from the pain that shot up her leg when she rises from the sofa and stands on her sprained ankle, or from the sickening crunch of Noah’s nose breaking. She hobbles forward and lays a hand on Wyatt’s arm. “Wyatt. Stop, please.”

He turns, his eyes full of regret. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I’m so sorry.”

She brings her hand up to the back of his neck and pulls his head down to rest her forehead against his. “It’s okay.” She closes her eyes and breathes deep. “Go get a fresh bag of frozen veg for your hand, while I deal with Noah.”

She doesn’t give him the time to protest, as she reaches up on her tip toes and presses a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. She’s likely rubbing salt into Noah’s wound, but she can’t bring herself to care. It’s the least he deserves after the way he just spoke to her.

Wyatt’s stopped from opening the freezer, by a hand resting on the door. He turns his head to see Carol stood by him with a frown on her face.

“You will do no such thing.” She scowls. “I don’t know who you are, or how you know my daughter, but I want you out of my house.”

Carol opens the freezer and pulls out the bag of veg Wyatt had intended to grab himself, instead moving over to pass it to Noah. Not that a frozen bag of veg will do much for a broken nose.

“Mom!” Lucy exclaims. “Wyatt is more than welcome here, you can’t send him away because he hit someone who talked to me like that. Noah’s lucky I was here to stop him going further!”

“It’s okay, Luce.” He smiles softly, turning to leave. “I’ll, uh... I’ll see you at work?”

Lucy turns back to her mother. She’s had enough of this. Her entire life has been decided by her mother. But not any more. She’s a grown woman, she can make her own decisions. “If Wyatt isn’t welcome here, then neither am I.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lucy.” Carol scoffs.

Lucy grabs her bag and her shoes, not bothering to try slip them on. She ignores her mother calling to her, limping as quick as she can down the hall and out the door. She calls out to Wyatt, just as he slips into his car.

“Lucy, what are you doing? Go back inside.” He gets back out of the car, heading towards her to help her back inside.

“No.” She shakes her head vigorously. “She’s taking his side, Wyatt. I can’t stay there, with him, after what he said to me. If you hadn’t have punched him, I would have.”

He smirks at her. “Good job I got in there first then, isn’t it?”

Lucy steps forward and rests her hands on his chest, smiling up at him. “My hero.”

“Come on.” He nods his head back at the car, as he brings his hands up to squeeze at her waist. “Let’s get you some ice on that ankle.”

She brings his bruising hand, up to her mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the split knuckles. “And on this hand of yours.”

Wyatt lives further away from her than she thought. The same distance as her from Mason industries, she would guess, but in the opposite direction. Knowing this, has her wondering why he would offer her a lift home if he’s going so far out of his way.

“It’s not much, just the bare bones while I’m actually here and not shipped off somewhere.” He brings his hand up to scratch behind his ear in embarrassment, as they ascend the stairs to his floor.

He’d offered to carry her up the stairs, when they arrived and found the elevator out of order. She swatted his shoulder and told him not to be so ridiculous, that her ankle may be sprained but she’s still perfectly capable of making her way up a few flights of stairs.

She shrugs. He could live in an abandoned warehouse, and it would still be more welcoming than the house she has called home for so long. She tells him as much and he just laughs lightly and slightly awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond.

Unlocking the door, he steps inside and toes his shoes off, shuffling them to the side and lining them up against the wall, next to where a few other pairs already sit. Lucy follows his lead and puts her sneakers down beside his boots - she never bothered to slip them on on the ride over here. She takes a moment to take in the domesticity of it all. Her shoes lined up beside his, her bag now hanging on a hook amongst his coats. She wants this. She sighs and follows him through to the kitchen.

“No veg, but I do have a little ice.” He pulls a tray out of the freezer and shows her the three blocks. “Not enough for both of us though.”

She turns and starts hunting for a clean tea towel to wrap the ice in. Wyatt watches her open a few cupboards and draws for a moment, before he squeezes past her and opens the only draw she hadn’t and pulls one out.

“Here.” He holds the ice out to her, but she refuses to take it.

“No.” She shakes her head, no. “I had the veg back at my place, before we were rudely interrupted. You take the ice for your hand.”

She can see he wants to argue, so she pulls out her best ‘I’m the professor, so what I say goes’ look - one she normally reserves for the more stubborn students in her classes, but one she can see herself using often on him the future. He sighs at the look, pressing the ice to his bruised hand with a wince.

“You want a drink?” He offers.

She gives him a doubtful look. “I suppose alcohol is still off the table?”

“What do you think?” He says, as he grabs two bottles of water from the fridge.

Wyatt drops his empty hand to rest on the small of her back as he leads her through to the living room. They drop onto the couch together, Lucy wincing as the movement jostles her ankle. She really has to stop doing that.

“Okay, no more moving for you tonight.” He raises his eyebrows at her, when he sees her go to protest. “Christopher will have my head if I bring you in tomorrow in a worse state than the one you left in. Rufus probably would too.”

“Guess I’m spending the night on the sofa then.” She settles further into the cushions. Not the most comfortable place she’s ever spent the night, but it’ll have to do if he won’t let her move. At least it’ll be more comfortable than two fully grown adults sharing a single bed. Not that she’s complaining about being pressed so close to Wyatt in nothing but her underwear.

“Some host you are.” She teases.

They sit in companionable silence for some time, their bottles of water sit untouched on the coffee table. They should probably talk about…. Everything, before the phone rings and they’re back in that giant metal eyeball once more. Lucy hates that thing. A glance to the figure slouched beside her, has her admitting that she doesn’t hate it as much as she claims to. She wouldn’t have met Wyatt, if it wasn’t for Connor Mason inventing the damn thing.

Wyatt reaches out and grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers without a word. He rolls his head to the side, a soft smile playing on his lips.

She meets his gaze and matches his smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He whispers in return.

“We should…” Lucy tightens her grip on his hand, anchoring him to her. He’s not going anywhere. Physically or emotionally.

“Talk.” He nods. “Yeah.” He sighs. “When I lost Jess, I lost myself. The only time I was sober, was when I was on a mission. Losing her destroyed me, and if I’m being honest, I can’t say I’m completely over it.”

Here it comes. He’s going to tell her that kissing her - both times - was a huge mistake, and should never happen again. It’ll hurt to hear, but it’s not a surprise. She went into this with her eyes wide open. He told her about Jess during their first mission. She could see in his actions and hear in his tone as he spoke about her, how much he loved her - still does love her. She braces herself for the blow. Only the blow doesn’t come. He tells her that while he’s not over the death of his wife - not yet, but hopefully one day - and that while a part of him will always love her, he can’t grieve forever. “Maybe it’s time I stop looking at the past, start looking at the future. Maybe explore some of those possibilities you mentioned.”

She sits and stares at him for a moment, letting his words sink in. “Possibilities of what?”

“I think you know, babydoll.” He smirks.

“I think you should show me.” She returns his smirk. “Sweetheart.”

He surges forward and catches her lips with his, much like he did before. Only this time she doesn’t freeze. This time she is quick to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer, she’s quick to lay back on the sofa and pull him down with her. She slides her leg beneath him and lets him settle against her, the pressure of him against her, there, adding fuel to the already roaring fire. She’s lost in his kiss, his touch, his everything, when his bruised hand and split knuckles run across her cheek, his fingers burying themselves in her hair. She breaks away from him, panting deeply. His forehead comes down to rest against hers. He matches her breath for breath.

She hates to say this, while they’re in this position. She hates to be the one to dump the bucket of ice water over them this time. But there’s another elephant in the room that needs addressing before this can go any further. “Noah.”

The utterance of her Fiancé- ex-Fiancé’s name has him reeling back. “What?”

“Sorry.” She sighs. “I should probably have said something more than his name.”

Wyatt crawls back, lifting his weight off of her. Once he’s settled, he holds his hand out to help her up, and pulls her to settle against him. “Yeah, you should have, but we should talk about him and what happened tonight as well.”

Lucy starts by telling him about her past relationships. About the one guy in high school she dated for about a week, before she found out that he was sleeping with about half the school. About the drummer in her band that she had a casual thing with. About Jonas and how he used their relationship to direct her career down the path he wanted it go - she didn’t realise he was doing that at the time, but now she doesn’t know how she was so blind. Or how her mother let him get away with it. “When we got back from the Hindenburg and I found out I was engaged to some guy I didn’t even know, a part of me was relieved. There was this guy that loved me with everything he had, he knew everything about me - my messy past, my controlling mother, everything - but despite all he knew, he still wanted to marry me. He was the perfect guy, and though I didn’t return his feelings, I thought ‘why not give it a go?’. I tried to see in him what the other me saw in him, I tried to love him like he loved me. I thought it was working. I thought I was falling for him, hard.”

She feels Wyatt take a deep, steadying breath. She imagines hearing her talk about Noah in this way, isn’t the easiest for him - much like hearing him talk about his love for Jess, isn’t the easiest for her to hear - but this needs to be said. The air needs to be clear between them before they jump in. Together. She pulls away from his embrace, needing to make eye contact for what she’s about to say. “It wasn’t him I was falling for, though… It was you.”

Neither are ready to say those words yet, though the looks in their eyes - both pairs shining with unshed tears - paint a thousand words.

Wyatt falls back and lays against the arm of the sofa. His eyes dancing across every part of her, draw her in. She crawls towards him and settles between the back of the sofa and him, her head resting on his chest, her legs twining with his.

He wraps his arms around her, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I’ll never stop falling for you.”

Wyatt blinks his eyes open several hours later. The sky outside has turned dark, and the room cold. He brings his arm up to check his watch for the time: just after midnight. He should probably move them to his bedroom. He’s spent many nights sleeping on this sofa, and the pain he always wakes with the next morning, is not something he’d ever wish for Lucy to experience. She’s still curled into his side, still dead to the world, and hang on... Is that drool on his shirt? Oh, he’s so going to tease her about that in the morning.

“Luce.” He whispers, as he runs his fingers through her hair. She shows no sign of beginning to stir, so he runs a finger down the bridge of her nose and then back and forth across her cheek. He tries calling her name again, a little louder this time. “Lucy.”

She groans and settles further into him. He laughs softly and makes a mental note: Lucy Preston is not a morning person. “Come on, sleepy head. Let’s get you to bed.”

Wyatt slides off the sofa, shaking his head at her when he turns and finds her settling back into the sofa cushions. She doesn’t protest when he moves to pick her up this time.

He deposits her on the bed with a “Don’t go crawling under those sheets. You need to take your pills and I have some clothes for you to change into.”

She mumbles something under her breath. He doesn’t hear what, but the glare she cracks her eyes open to send him, tells him he probably doesn’t want to know. He’s never laughed so much in his life, but he finds himself doing so once more. She’s cute when she’s sleepy and slightly annoyed. He pulls out a clean t-shirt and a clean pair of boxers for her to change into. He presses a soft kiss to her lips, as he presses the clothes into her hands and points her to the bathroom. “I’ll grab you some water for those pills.”

“So bossy.” She mumbles, when she stands and leaves the room. He hears her this time.

He’s tucked under the covers, looking at his phone when she returns. Her eyes are only half open and he’s not quite sure how she’s not fallen over something or bumped into something in this state. Maybe being exhausted makes her more co-ordinated? If so, he should see about making her exhausted for their missions through time. It’d make looking out for her a little easier on him, if he doesn’t have to worry about her tripping over thin air.

Lucy shuffles over to the bed, climbing in beside him. She goes to burrow down in the covers when he stops her with one word. “Pills.”

She turns and looks at him, pausing for a moment. “I thought I was the bossy know-it-all?”

“I’m just trying to look after you.” He says, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

Lucy is wide awake when he wakes the next morning. He blinks his eyes open to see her sat up in the bed, staring at the wall in front of her. It doesn’t immediately register what she’s looking at, not until he glances up himself and sees Jessica’s picture staring back at him. He sits up and tucks himself behind her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “I really wish you hadn’t seen that.”

She turns and frowns at him. “Why not?”

He doesn’t have a straight answer for her. Jess was a huge part of his life and the reason he is who he is today. He knows Lucy understands that. But it just feels... wrong for her to see it.

“You know you can talk to me about her, right?” She offers. “Anytime. About anything.”

He remains silent, staring.

“Wyatt?” She prompts.

He nods slowly, the movement causing his head to brush the side of hers. “Yeah. I know.”

Moments later, Lucy finds herself turning in his embrace and offering to help him find out who killed her. She doesn’t quite know what prompted her to do it. She doesn’t quite know how much help she can really be to him and the case. She’s no detective. But she is a historian, and this happened in the past. It’s really her area of expertise… right? Is there really a difference between looking into the events of 100 years ago, and the events of 5 years ago?

“You’re amazing.” He whispers against her skin.

Neither are sure how much time has passed. Neither care. With no phone calls from Agent Christopher or Mason Industries, it’s not like they have anywhere else to be. They had sat for a few minutes, staring at the articles, and maps, and pictures littering the wall opposite his bed, before he laid back and pulled her down with him.

They’re exchanging lazy kisses, when the ringing of Lucy’s phone drifts through from the living room. They groan collectively. So much for a lazy day in bed. Would it kill Flynn to give them a day or two? Just once.

Only when Lucy answers the call, Agent Christopher isn’t informing her that the mothership has jumped. She’s asking her to dinner tonight. It’s an odd request. One she’s not sure she should accept. The last time her boss had asked her to dinner, he’d broken up with her. But she wasn’t dating Agent Christopher. She asks the homeland security agent to hang on just one second while she checks her diary, buying her the time to ask Wyatt what the hell she should do. He places his hands on her shoulders, and tells her to take a deep breath, to calm down. It’s just dinner. She repeats the 3 words to herself, as she brings the phone back up to her ear and says “I’d love to!” in an overly cheery tone.

She’s no calmer when she hangs up the phone, turning to Wyatt with wide eyes. “Why do I get the feeling I’m about to be fired?”

Wyatt scoffs and pulls her into his embrace. “You’re not about to be fired.”

“But what if I am.” She pulls back in a panic. “I can’t turn away from this now. I can’t let Flynn decimate history.”

“Then we steal the lifeboat and we finish it ourselves.” He shrugs, as if they could steal the lifeboat, as easy as she could steal a kiss from him. He’d certainly make it look easy.

They stand wrapped around each other, before she mumbles. “I should go home.” into his chest.

“You should stay here.” He replies, tightening his hold on her. After the way Noah and her mother treated her last night, he’d rather she not go anywhere near that house. But he knows thats not an option. He sighs, nodding slowly. “You want me to come with you?”

Lucy shakes her head, no, and reluctantly pulls away from him. Facing her mother, and possibly Noah, is something she needs to do by herself. Besides, she can’t spend the rest of her life cowering behind Wyatt. No matter how much he’d love that.

#timeless #lucy preston #wyatt logan #lyatt #the logans #tl ff #*writing

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callboxkat · 6 years

Text

Quiet (part 9)

Author’s note: Thank you for your patience, everyone!

Warnings: selective mutism, college, food mention

Word count: 1093

Masterpost!

The group ran out of pizza well before the movie ended, so Patton popped some popcorn for them. Virgil refused to take any, especially once he figured out that no one expected or wanted him to chip in for the pizza. Virgil wasn’t the biggest fan of charity.

He did enjoy hanging out with Patton and his friends, though.

…

After the movie, Roman ejected the DVD and turned the television off. “Usually we watch two or three movies,” he explained to Virgil, “but since we have class tomorrow, I think it’s best if we stick with one.”

He seemed to expect a response, so Virgil nodded. He slowly got up off of the arm of the chair, locked his fingers together, and stretched his arms behind his back. One of his shoulders made a loud popping noise, which Logan looked mildly horrified to hear. Virgil laughed, and Patton visibly brightened at the sound.

Slightly comforted by this, Virgil felt emboldened enough to ask, “Hey, Roman? Do—do you have anything to drink?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He strode into the kitchen, Virgil following, and opened the fridge. “Iced tea, root beer, or orange juice?”

Virgil pointed at the bottle of tea as an answer.

“Excellent choice!” Roman grabbed the bottle, took a glass from the cabinet, and filled it with tea. He handed it to Virgil with a flashy smile.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, his voice a breath. He took a sip, looking back towards where Logan and Patton were cleaning up the living room. They appeared to be debating whether or not they could recycle the pizza boxes.

…

Twenty minutes later, Patton dropped Virgil off back at the library.

“I could just take you back to your place,” he offered as they pulled up, frowning in concern.

Virgil gestured at the Spanish homework in his arms in a way that suggested that he still had work to do at the library, and that was why he had wanted to be dropped off here. That wasn’t the case: Virgil had finished his homework before Patton had picked him up. But he didn’t need to know that, and anyway, Virgil’s car was nearby.

“Well, okay, kiddo,” Patton said. “I’ll see you Thursday!”

Virgil nodded, flashing Patton a small smile before he got out of the car and started towards the library. Patton didn’t leave until he was inside, so he waited in the entrance for a few minutes before walking back out again. Time to go home.

…

The next day passed uneventfully. Remy once again returned from his early morning Starbucks run with two cups: one of coffee, and the other of the same tea he had been giving Virgil.

“Why?” Virgil asked, uncomfortable with accepting the gift.

“Because you need to calm the heck down, girl. I’m willing to buy you tea to make that happen.”

Virgil frowned.

“Consider it as doing me a favor. Watching you pace back and forth was giving me a headache.”

Virgil sighed, but accepted the tea and Remy’s suggestion of how to not view it as charity. As before, the two of them finished their drinks together on the couch, and then each departed for his classes. Virgil wasn’t sure he’d call Remy a friend, but he enjoyed that silent companionship.

Virgil’s classes weren’t so bad that day. He mouthed the words that he was supposed to repeat in Spanish class, which, while it wasn’t exactly the same as actually saying them, seemed to placate his professor. Chemistry, meanwhile, was actually sort of fun. The “experiment” that they did was really just a way to practice using the equipment, but Virgil liked that he was able to work silently, and he was always elated when the results matched what was supposed to happen.

By the end of the day, he was starting to think that maybe he could actually do this.

…

On Thursday, in the early afternoon, Virgil once again walked to his American History class. When he entered the room, Patton and Logan were already there, but Roman had not yet arrived. There was plenty of room near Patton and Logan, more than just the one desk for Roman. Patton had locked his eyes on Virgil as soon as he came in the room, so Virgil went to sit in one of these open desks. Patton looked delighted. Logan gave him a nod, which Virgil interpreted as a greeting. He gave both of them a small salute in return.

Later, just as class ended, Patton turned to look at Virgil, a grin on his face. “Do you want to come to movie night again? It’s tomorrow. We’ll get to watch more than one movie this time!”

Virgil looked around at the rest of the group. None of them seemed opposed to the idea, although he didn’t see nearly as much eagerness in Logan’s nor Roman’s faces. Plus, hadn’t Patton said that there were usually more people at their movie nights? While he thought about all of this, the silence was lengthening, which made Virgil’s heart start to speed up even more.

“Joan and Talyn will be there tomorrow night,” Patton admitted, his smile just a little less bright than before. “But don’t worry! They’re really nice.”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck. Roman was starting to look annoyed, and he noticed Logan’s covert glance at his watch. Virgil nodded, mostly just to get the attention off of himself. He wasn’t actually sure whether or not he wanted to go. At least he would have a day to prepare himself.

Patton’s smile brightened again. “Okay! Do you want me to pick you up at your house this time?”

Virgil shook his head. He didn’t want the others to see what a dump he lived in. Especially once he’d seen how nice Roman’s house was.

“Library again?” Patton asked, to which Virgil nodded.

“Okay… We’ll see you then!”

Virgil made sure to pick out Big Hero 6 as one of the movies they watched that night.

…

Things continued along the same lines for the next few weeks. Virgil finally got a job at a record shop that was apparently desperate enough for help that they let his “interview” be a questionnaire that he filled out and submitted via email. He continued attending the weekly movie nights at Roman’s place, and he was warming up to them enough that he could sometimes even get out more than a couple of sentences over the course of the evening with them.

He should have known that something would go wrong.

Tag list: @patton-loves-coloring @starryfirefliesbloggo @purplesoul-at-hogwarts @lotusthatexists @lizaelsparrow @bunny222 @syndianites @astraastro @momolinia @hamilin-manuel-miranda @goldenkiddos @afilhadehades-blog @virgeofselfdestruction @theresneverenoughfandoms

#sanders sides #quiet fic #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #sleep sanders #remy sanders #fanfiction #ts fanfic #sanders sides fan fiction

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