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#what about wednesday makes me feel like being a clown is the best possible way forward
sucre-blue · 1 year
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every wednesday i fantasize about running away to clown school
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unusedarbiter · 1 year
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Here’s apparently a wild hot take, maybe stop trying to make, dark gritty adult version of kids concepts? I think everyone can agree that there’s an over saturated of remake, spin offs, and sequels in the film and television industry right now right? And that a lot of it even if it had good aspect should just have been it’s own thing, don’t get me wrong Wednesday was good but the fact that it was an adams family spin off really really hurt it in my eyes, it should have just be its own original show. Another example in the opposite direction would be the new Velma show. I can’t think of a single good thing about it but still I feel like even though it seems universally hated, (rightfully so) it could have skirted the lines and gotten away with being a semi likable show to an average audience of people if it wasn’t a Scooby-Doo spin off. Would it have been good? No probably not but it would have atleast not been hated, connecting it to Scooby-Doo did nothing but injure the show by bringing around Scooby-Doo fans who can clearly see that it isn’t a Scooby-Doo show.
So with the part everyone can agree with out of the way let’s move to the next part. Don’t make stuff “adult” if it wasn’t in the first place, it doesn’t work, you either make a ridiculous mess that people can’t take seriously or you take away some of the most beloved aspects of that thing. For me this is most apparent in the super hero genre, I’ve always loved DC growing up but now a days there’s barely anything I like that comes out from them in any format other than games, because they try to appeal to much to their original audience that’s now grown up the the age groups they were targeting when they got those fans, and it just feels emotionless and vapid. Superheroes are inherently silly and goofy, Wonder Woman has an invisible jet and a lasso of truth, Spider-Man gets a bug bite and now he shoots webs, Bruce Wayne is the richest man in the world and spends his money making every gadget and vehicle you could possibly imagine and making all of it bat themed, let’s not forget his arch nemesis is literally a clown! It’s hard to try and be a gritty adult oriented franchise when you do that, sorry but I can’t take anything seriously when the hero of the story is a ten year old who can turn into a superhero because a wizard told him the magic word. They’re silly and goofy and that’s what I love about them, hell yeah kid shot Shazam so you can go fight the ancient Egyptian with powers he also got from a wizard! I wanna see a man in a latex bat costume beat up a scarecrow! I’m not saying they have to be Adam west Batman all the time but like stick around your age range and maybe stretching a little to one side or the other. I can’t name a single comic from the past few years I’ve enjoyed, but the two newest Spider-Man games were some of the best games I’ve ever played, the Batman Arkham games are a bit too serious at times (city was impacted very hard by everyone being so needlessly and incredibly horny all the time, really ruined my enjoyment of an otherwise solid game), but I think they represent a good maximum ceiling. And I think the reason a lot of these issues exist is because people get the green light to be adult with a franchise and immediately lose all creativity and just cram as much sex, violence, and swearing as they can in there. The big reason horror for kids such as goosebumps will always be leagues ahead of adult horror when man in mask cuts people up and it’s so bloody and gory and guy say “Oh fucking god dam shit, this crazy bastard is going to fucking kill us and shit!” Not to say those things can’t be used well, (I’d say the only adult version of comics I like is the Harley Quinn show, but even then the gore feels overly gratuitous and the show definitely has it high peaks and low low valleys, but if they stayed hard into the sort over the top, ridiculous high schooler/college student nonsense humor it could have been the best comedy show ever.) you can be taken seriously while not having an adult rating, look at the Tobey Maguire Spider-Man movies or Scooby-Doo incorporated those were both amazing and some of the best in their franchise without having to break the ratings ceilings
In conclusion to the -5 Hollywood executives reading this, make more original stuff instead of trying to twist existing franchises into the original show you made, stop adultifying stuff, and rethink what you definition of media for adults is, I’m sick of drowning in content for all my favorite franchises only for there to be little to none of that content being even remotely good.
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gobayern16 · 3 years
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This is my gift work for @bad-batch-of-fics for the Star Wars Valentines Exchange! I hope you enjoy!!! And thank you so much @lilhawkeye3 for hosting @starwarsfandomfests !
Tags: Reader/Fives, Enemies to Lovers, Modern AU, Fives being annoying gym bro, but he has a good reason!, Gender Neutral Reader
The loud clang of weights hitting the floor startles you so badly you nearly hit yourself in the face with your dumbbell. You whirl around to glare at the culprit, getting your first good look at the two loudmouths.
They’re both incredibly fit, skin tight shirts highlighting well-defined muscles. And incredibly handsome, your mind unhelpfully points out.
Or: Your morning gym routine, and your life, gets interrupted by the appearance of a well-intentioned nuisance.
No Y/N used.
There’s a bird outside your bedroom window, singing the song of its people as loudly as it can. You blink blearily at the ceiling, mind hazy with sleep. A quick glance at the alarm clock indicates five minutes until it rings, so with a sigh you roll out of bed, shutting the alarm off as you go. 
The bright light of the bathroom does an excellent job of waking you up, and you hum under your breath as you go about your morning routine. 
Dressed in workout clothes, you double check you have your keys, phone, and a towel before leaving your apartment. You take the stairs down to the complex gym, jumping the last four steps in a sudden burst of energy.
You don’t see anyone on the short walk to the entrance, 630am being apparently too early for many of the residents of your complex to be awake. The sun is barely peeking in through the windows, and the snow piled on the sidewalk makes you glad everything is indoors. 
There are a handful of people already there, but not so many that you have to worry about getting adequate time on the various machines.
You’re almost done with your last set of bicep curls when they walk in. You pay just enough attention to check which equipment the two men are going to use, just a quick glance in the mirror, as you couldn’t care less about the other patrons, before concentrating on your workout again. 
But then the talking starts. 
It’s easy to tune out at first, focused as you are on counting your reps.
The loud clang of weights hitting the floor startles you so badly you nearly hit yourself in the face with your dumbbell. You whirl around to glare at the culprit, getting your first good look at the two loudmouths.
They’re both incredibly fit, skin tight shirts highlighting well-defined muscles. And incredibly handsome, your mind unhelpfully points out.
The bald one with the huge facial tattoo smacks the other on the arm with a loud “Watch it, dipshit! If you break it, they’re gonna kick us out!”
His friend just laughs, a warm, vibrant sound that makes you flush. His eyes crinkle, drawing attention to the blocky ‘5’ tattooed on the side of his forehead. Who the hell tattoos their face?
“It’s fine, Jesse.” He dismisses the other man’s concerns with a wave of his hand. “Now, you gonna try and beat my number? Or you just gonna stand there, complaining and stalling?”
Jesse squawks in outrage, immediately reaching for the discarded weights.
You huff, turning back to your own weights as the bickering picks up volume again. You hurry through your set, all the while mentally cursing the handsome nuisances with their powerful arms and thick thighs for cutting your workout short. It’d be too distracting to finish on the rowing machine like you usually do — the machine is across the room and it’d only give you a better view of their shifting muscles and gorgeous tan skin on display. 
You glance at the stranger with the ‘5’ tattoo one last time as you walk past them to the exit, blushing but staring back in challenge when you accidentally make eye contact. You pick up your pace to the exit, hearing laughter and a smack behind you.
You never notice the third man sitting on a nearby bench, prosthetics gleaming in the light.
🏋🏽‍♂️🏋🏽‍♂️🏋🏽‍♂️🏋🏽‍♂️🏋🏽‍♂️
Pushing through the gym doors, you groan at the sounds that greet you. The loudmouth and his equally aggravating friend were here again. This was the sixth time in two weeks! Your coworkers were even starting to ask if something was wrong, since you were coming in grumpy so often, mood soured by an unenjoyable workout.
You make your way over to the mats that are unfortunately right next to them, grabbing a resistance band on the way. Settling into the first of your stretches, you try to ignore the running commentary and aggressive grunting. You would not injure yourself because one disgustingly handsome tattooed stranger caused you to cut your stretching short!
You shake out all your limbs, checking for any soreness or tight muscles. Feeling loose and limber, you replace the resistance band and move to the treadmill slightly further away.
The only upside to those two clowns, you think as you program the treadmill, is that I’ve become stronger, faster because I try to spend as little time here as possible. Working out at a different time isn’t an option; work is too demanding for you to exercise after you get home in the evenings and you refuse to skip mornings just to avoid them.
So your only option is early morning and dealing with the Terrible Twosome.
You take a deep breath, centering yourself, before turning on the treadmill.
As the bickering behind you turns into an argument, you think you might set a personal best just to get away from them. 
🏋🏽‍♂️🏋🏽‍♂️🏋🏽‍♂️🏋🏽‍♂️🏋🏽‍♂️
The clack of billiard balls colliding recedes into the background as you lean against the bar counter, patiently waiting for the bartender to finish with their current customer. It’s pretty empty for a Wednesday evening, so you don’t mind watching them as they mix the drinks with quick, efficient movements, placing them on the bar counter with little fanfare. Transaction completed, they wipe their hands on a towel and move towards you.
“What can I get you?”
“Could I please get a Manhattan, a Rum Collins, a Tequila Sunrise, and a Diet Coke?” You pause, trying to remember what else your friends had requested.  “Oh, and three shots of your best tequila, please.” The bartender nods, pulling down the requisite glasses for the drinks, starting with the shot glasses.
“That’s gonna be a lot to carry for one person,” a voice interjects from your left. “Need a hand?”
“No thanks, I can—” You turn, breaking off as you get a good look at the stranger next to you. At the blocky ‘5’ tattooed on the side of his forehead. “YOU!” You’d laugh at his look of shock if you weren’t overcome with sudden anger. “Do you know how hard it is to concentrate with the racket you’re always making?”
He gapes, helpless in the face of the outburst a month in the making.
“Mornings are supposed to be calm and peaceful! And your grunting and smack talking ruin it!”
“Is everything alright here?” The bartender’s stern interruption makes you abruptly aware of how you’ve gotten up in the stranger’s face, finger poking his chest. You flush in shame at making a scene, ducking your head and opening your mouth to apologize when the stranger beats you to it.
“We’re fine. I was just leaving actually. I don’t want to cause any trouble.” The reasonable voice cuts you, deepens your shame, and you reach out to catch the stranger’s arm before he can leave.
“Wait! I’m sorry. That was incredibly rude of me.” You lift your head, determined to make eye contact and fully own up to your behavior. “I’ve needed to get that off my chest for a while, but that doesn’t mean you deserved to be ranted at. Can I buy your next drink to make up for it?”
He regards you for several long moments, dark eyes intense before brightening with humor, one side of his mouth quirking up in a half-smile. “Sure, why not. Never turn down a free drink, huh?”
His full attention is enough to leave you tongue-tied, and you barely manage a nod. Glad I tried to stay away from him at the gym. I’d have definitely hurt myself if he looked at me like this. 
He stares at you, lifting an eyebrow as he glances down at his arm. You follow his gaze, choking on your breath as you realize you’re still clutching his arm. You hurriedly let go, cheeks heating as you mumble another apology.
“No harm done,” he chuckles, relaxing to slouch against the bar counter. “I’ll have the IPA on tap, please.” 
At his order, you’re reminded the bartender witnessed everything and you cringe, hoping they don’t throw you out for yelling at another patron for no apparent reason. But to your relief they simply move to fill the beer.
“So.” 
You look up at your companion (you should really ask him for his name). “Mind telling me what I’ve done that warranted getting ranted at?” He cocks an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side. It serves to make him even cuter and you have to look away, face burning.
“Well, you see, um…” Just spit it out, can’t embarrass yourself any worse. “We go to the same gym at the same time, and you’re always talking and being loud, and it’s really annoying and distracting.” 
When several seconds tick by with no reply, you look up to find him grimacing.
“Oh, that. Ah,” he pauses, rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “I promise I’m not trying to be an asshole and that I have a really good reason for it.” 
Really? There’s a good reason for dropping weights and getting into arguments with your gym partner? 
Your disbelief must be obvious, because he straightens up from his slouch, fire kindling in his eyes. “I draw attention to myself so people ignore my twin. He’s there every morning too, and if you haven’t noticed him, then what I’m doing seems to be working.”
“You mean the guy with the huge, questionable face tattoo?” you interrupt, eyebrow raised. “I hate to break it to you, but he’s just as noticeable as you are.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, Jesse’s my friend. He comes with me so it’s easier. Echo has prosthetics from a really bad car accident that left him a triple amputee. He doesn’t want people to stare at them while he works out, so I act up so people focus on me. ”
Shit. You laugh awkwardly. “Uh, congrats then. It definitely worked. I only remember ever seeing you and Jesse.” You lapse into silence, not sure how to continue the conversation.
Eventually, the stranger huffs. “Look, let’s start over, okay? Clearly neither of us is good at first impressions.”
That’s a massive understatement. You snort, ruefully shaking your head. “Sure. Let me take these drinks back to my friends, and then we can find somewhere to talk?” The last part drifts up in a question. 
“Sounds like a plan.” He grins crookedly. You ignore the butterflies in your stomach, inclining your head at him in a short goodbye before turning to grab the now full tray of drinks. You head back to your friends, the weight of his eyes on your back making something inside you shiver in anticipation. You hope your friends didn’t notice how long it took you to come back, but that hope is dashed immediately.
“What was that all about? You got kind of up in that guy’s face. Mirage was about to check on you when the bartender interrupted you guys.” Their palpable concern brings your shame rushing back. You squash it down, reminding yourself that not only had you already apologized, but you were going to reintroduce yourself. 
“Nah, it was just a misunderstanding. I’m actually going to sit down and talk with him.” That sets the wolf among the hens, and you do your best to ignore their questions and suggestions as you grab your jacket. 
Diet Coke in hand, you gaze around the bar until you find the stranger. You slide into the booth across from him and smile nervously, butterflies making a reappearance. He smiles back at you, and you sit in silence for a moment, neither of you sure how to restart the conversation. Gathering your courage, you take a deep breath.
“So, I gotta ask.”
He visibly tenses, smile growing a little strained.
“What’s with the tattoo? Does it have some special meaning?”
He relaxes at the question, clearly having expected something else. In fact, if he wasn’t so tan, you would say he was blushing. 
“It has to do with my name.” He coughs. “Well, my nickname.”
“Oh?” Now you’re really intrigued.
“Yeah. I’m the fifth of five kids, fifth with the name Felix, and part of the fifth set of twins to be born in my extended family that year. I heard it a lot, and at some point decided my name was gonna be Fives.”
You raise your eyebrows, amusement coloring your voice. “Really? You decided to name yourself after a number?” 
“In my defense, I was four and Great Uncle Felix spent the whole party counting all the Felixes, and always pointed at me when he said five.” 
You don’t try to stop the laugh bubbling up in your chest, Fives joining in with a rueful chuckle of his own. “Not my finest moment. What about you? Does your name have any “special” meaning?” 
“Not really,” you shrug. “It’s kind of the opposite of yours, actually. My parents had two names in mind for me and went with the one that wasn’t shared with five of their immediate relatives.” 
The ice properly broken between you two, the conversation flows easily. Fives is full of interesting stories, having led a very interesting and action-packed life, and you get lost in his passionate retellings, sucked in by his expressions and gestures. 
You’re so absorbed in your conversation that it’s a shock when the bartender comes over to inform you the bar is closing in half an hour. 
“Time flies when you’re having fun.” Fives winks at you, grinning roguishly. You laugh, shaking your head in amusement at his antics. 
Putting on your jacket, you call a goodbye to the bartender before leaving, Fives gallantly accompanying you to your car. 
“Don’t want anything to happen to you.” He shrugs, suddenly bashful.
Your heart warms at his thoughtfulness. Hours ago, you would have never considered thoughtfulness and Fives in the same sentence, but you knew better now. The regrettably short walk to your car passes in comfortable silence, the beep of unlocking startlingly loud in the late night quiet.  
“So…” 
You turn to Fives, head tilted in a silent question. He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, seemingly gathering his courage before making eye contact.
“I had a really good time tonight, and I was wondering if I could get your number so we could meet up again.”
Your smile feels like it splits your face. “I’d love that.” 
Numbers exchanged, you pause, debating with yourself, before thinking fuck it and stepping close to press a kiss to Fives’ cheek.
“Thanks for a wonderful evening. I’m sure I’ll see you around, Fives.” You get into your car, Fives standing stockstill with a dopey smile on his face. He moves out of the way when you start your car, but he’s still grinning the whole time he’s visible in your rearview mirror.
(Next time turns into a coffee date, turns into lunch, turns into dinner, and pretty soon you’ve been dating for 6 months. He introduces you to Echo and Jesse, and they both question your taste in men. Fives’ feigned outrage (“I am a catch, thank you!”) hides his relief at all of you getting along. The gym routine doesn't get any less annoying.)
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dameronology · 4 years
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rockstar {s.r x reader} - 2
summary: it’s been two months since you sunk your chipped black nails into steve rogers’ heart. it’s bliss - maybe you’re living in a dream world. {part one here}
I’M SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG but part 2 is finally here! and i don’t even have an excuse because i’ve literally been doing nothing in lockdown. also this has two new characters, the bandmates, they’re only side characters/kinda comic relief but they were so much fun to write 
i’m gonna make a taglist so if you want to be added, let me know xx 
- val xx 
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One month.
One month with you.
And the best month of his life. 
Steve couldn’t quite bring himself to say that he loved you - at least not to your face. He was certainly infatuated by you; obsessed with every sarcastic word that rolled off your tongue, entranced with every curve of your body and every mark on your skin. He was drawn in by every bold grin and cheeky wink; enamoured by your very state of being. 
It was a cold Wednesday morning; you’d turned on the heating in your apartment, but there was still a chill in the air. You were sat at the piano in your living room, a half-finished cigarette resting between your lips and a cup of black coffee resting atop the instrument, steam forming against the glacial air. 
You were surrounded by hundreds of pieces of paper; some were scribbled with lyrics, others with melodies and musical arrangements. They were scattered across the rug, and both your coffee and dining table. Getting musically stressed was all in a day’s work for you, but this particular song was being stubborn. 
Steve, who had still been asleep when you traipsed out of bed thirty minutes previous, was stood in the doorway of your bedroom. He had your sheet wrapped around his shoulders, watching as your hands absent-mindedly floated across the keys. You were wearing his shirt; it hung off your shoulders, a few tattoos peaking out the top. He’d seen a lot of beautiful sights in his life but this one certainly took the top spot.
He watched as creased your brow - something you always did when you were in deep concentration. 
‘Come back to bed?’
You jumped at the sound of his voice, turning to face him with a tired smile on your face. You dropped your pen and took the last sip of your coffee, jumping from your seat and skipping across the room to see him. He took you by the waist and you leapt up, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing a kiss to his nose.
‘I would love to come back to bed but I gotta work, baby.’ you sighed, your hands wandering through his tufty blonde hair. ‘This song is stressing me out.’
‘I know a way I can help you relax,’ Steve’s face twisted into a grin.
‘You make a convincing-’ you were cut off by someone knocking excitedly on your door.
You groaned, dropping your head into the crook of his neck. There was only two other people who had access to your front door without buzzing through; you loved them both dearly but they were a real pain in your ass (especially when they were cock-blocking your chances with Captain America).
You leapt down from Steve’s waist, pressing a kiss to his lips.
‘Put on some clothes,’ you ordered, pushing him towards the bedroom, ‘and fix my sheets, Rogers!’
You heard Steve mutter something about how you were killing him, doll. You rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself, grabbing some black skinny jeans that had been strewn on your sofa. You tugged them on and then jogged to the front door, preparing yourself for the two clowns that awaited you.
‘What do you two morons want?’
You were met with the grinning faces of your band-mates. Alex was a six-foot-tall man child who still dressed like a My Chemical Romance fan circa 2005; Damian, meanwhile, was a self-described bisexual disaster with tufty brown hair and a never-ending collection of flannel shirts. And, above all, they were your absolute best friends. Platonic soulmates, if you will.
‘We haven’t heard from you in three days.’ Damian elbowed past you, swaying into your apartment.
‘We thought you were dead,’ Alex chimed in.
You folded your arms tightly across your chest, watching as your band-mates sauntered in. You didn’t intentionally spend three consecutive days locked in your apartment - it just sort of happened. You and Steve had met up on Friday for a drink, and he was still here on Wednesday. Time sure did fly when you were getting fucked by a super soldier. 
‘I’ve been busy.’ You muttered.
‘Doing what?’
‘Her new boyfriend, probably.’
‘He’s not my-’ you paused. Was Steve your boyfriend? You hadn’t that conversation yet. 
You hadn’t had a boyfriend for a long time. You weren’t short of casual flings - not by any means. It was simply that you hadn’t met anyone worth giving the time of day. And Steve Rogers, you found, was worth giving every second of every one of the rest of your living days.
‘Is he hot?’ Damian asked.
‘Very.’
‘Can we see - ‘
‘- sweetheart, have you seen my shirt?’
You felt the air leave your lungs when a shirtless Steve Rogers exited your bedroom. It was partially to do with what a glorious sight it was and half to do with the fact he hadn’t met any of your friends yet. And, aside from Sam and Bucky, you hadn’t met any of his either.
It wasn’t because you were ashamed; rather, it was au contraire. Whatever this thing was, it was close to your heart and it was close to his. It was your little secret; a tiny world you’d built together. It was too precious to expose to the world - not yet. 
Steve stopped talking when he saw the two other men in the penthouse. He recognised them from the photos on your wall. Except, in the pictures, they were sharing the same, menacing glare that you had. Now, they were grinning like two Cheshire cats.
‘Fuck my life,’ you murmured quietly, hiding your face in your hands, before taking a sharp breath and gesturing between the three. ‘Steve, this is Damian and Alex.‘
‘Right, great to meet you guys.’ Steve, momentarily forgetting his shirtlessness, flashed his beautiful smile, sticking his hand out for them to shake.
‘Believe me, Captain America. The pleasure is all mine.’
‘My eyes have been blessed-’
‘- right, that’s it!’ You snapped. ‘You two, out! I’ll see you in the studio later.’
‘But we have so many questions, sweetheart.’ Your nostrils flared at the use of Steve’s nickname.
‘I will throttle you, Damian!’ You threatened, showing him towards the front door.
‘We love you, Y/N!’
You scrunched up your nose, opening the front door. ‘I love you too. Now fuck off.’
You let the door shut behind them, dropping your back against it. You covered your face with your hands and let out a groan as you slid down it, collapsing into a pile on the floor. Steve, who was still stood in the centre of the room, pulled a face at you, as though he were pitying you. 
‘Don’t look at me like that, Captain America.’ You pointed a finger at him. 
‘I’m not looking at you like anything,’ he couldn’t hide the grin on his face. ‘You’re just so overdramatic. It’s very funny.’
‘I am not overdramatic!’
Steve shook his head and marched over to you, slamming his own back into the door with an over-dramatic groan. He slid downwards - exactly as you had - until he was sat next to you, mimicking your exact actions.
‘Does that look familiar, doll?’
‘It’s easy for you to say. You work with the Avengers, not Tweedledum and Tweedledee.’
‘They seem nice.’
‘I...’ you bit your lip, eyes wandering off ahead of you. ‘They called you my boyfriend.’
Steve furrowed his brow, his head dropping onto your shoulder. ‘Why do I get the feeling that you’re not ready to have that conversation?’
You took his hand on yours, playing with his fingers. They were almost twice the size of yours (and they did things, so many things) and you loved holding them. He towered over you in every way possible. You’d never been the kind of girl who wanted a man to protect her but with him, you didn’t mind so much. 
‘I like what we have now. You and me, and no-one else.’ You murmured quietly. ‘The minute you put labels on things, it creates pressure.’
‘Pressure to do what? Be together?’ He tried to hide the coldness in his voice. 
‘To take the next step!’ You said. ‘You start dating, then you’re official, then people expect you to get married and have babies-’
‘- Your bandmate called me your boyfriend. I didn’t propose to you.’ He stood up, and you immediately yearned for his touch as soon as it left you. 
‘Steve,’ you grabbed onto the door handle, steadying yourself as you leapt up. ‘Commitment just freaks me out, okay? It always has.’
He bit his lip, eyes glued to the floor. ‘What are you saying?’
‘Nothing. I’m not saying anything-’ you took his hands in yours. ‘I’m just asking you to be patient with me. Please?’
--
Later that day, Steve was sat in his office at the compound. It had been a slow morning; there wasn’t much in the way of missions and the reports he’d been working on were dull. He kept picking up his phone, checking to see if you’d texted him.
He still smiled every-time, nonetheless. His background picture was one he’d taken of you; you’d gone on a date to Central Park, and he’d got a snap of you with ice cream on your nose, signature scowl on your face. You had a pair of dark-rimmed Ray-Bans resting on your nose, a black beanie covering your hair. It was his favourite picture of you, because you were adorable and terrifying in equal measures. 
You still felt too good to be true. Before you, every attempt he’d taken at dating had been so complicated. Modern dating was a thousand times harder than it used to be. But, you were simple. You were so open about your feelings that he knew where he stood. It wasn’t exactly like you wore your heart on your sleeve but you were brutally honest. It surprised him sometimes, the way you just came out with things. The way you just said it how it was. 
You’d left things up in the air that morning. You and Steve both had to get to your respective workplaces, and you hadn’t yet had the time to properly sit down and talk. Part of him was terrified for it – what if you were going to end it?
‘I need your advice, Buck.’
Bucky looked up from his laptop, a frown across his features. For a minute, Steve felt bad for distracting him from his work, before he saw the Sims 4 loading screen on his desktop. 
‘What’s up?’ He asked. ‘Your girl getting you down?’
‘She’s not my girl,’ he shot back. ‘I mean…Y/N freaked out this morning when one of her bandmates called me her boyfriend.’
‘You’ve met Alex and Damien?!’ Bucky’s eyes widened, but he quickly cleared his throat. ‘I mean – not relevant. What did she say after?’
Steve rolled his eyes at his friend. ‘Told me she had some issues, asked me to be patient. I think it kinda opened a can of worms.’
Bucky paused, drawing the end of his pen along the table as he thought for a minute. ‘Figures. I think she’s right – you guys have been pretty intense. She probably just needs some time to find her bearings.’
‘What if I’m waiting for something that’s never gonna happen?’
‘Is she worth the wait?’ His friend raised his eyebrows. ‘Only you can decide that.’
--
Across the city, you were in the studio. You were sat on top of a piano, a guitar resting in your lap as you quietly strummed at it, waiting for inspiration to hit you. You were three quarters of the way through finishing the particular record that the band had been working on – but the last part was dragging. Your mind was a thousand miles away as it was, the face of a particular super soldier at the forefront of your mind.
‘You got anything?’ Damian called across from you. He was sat at his drumkit, occasionally whacking at a cymbal hopelessly.
‘Nope.’ You replied ‘I was thinking something like this-‘
‘-we have company!’ Alex announced, entering the room.
You glanced up from your guitar, eyes widening when you saw that Steve was with him. He shared a similar expression to you – nervous, perhaps. You cleared your throat and put the guitar to the side, hopping off the piano. Your boots clipped the key on the way down, a few notes emitting from the instrument as you walked across the room to face him.
‘We’re going to go and talk outside.’ You announced. You took Steve’s hand, pulling him out the room.
You exited the studio, heading out into the backlot of the building. The ground was wet with rain, a few droplets still falling from the sky. The sky was grey, air still thick with damp from the weather. You leant against the wall, boots crunching under the gravel of the ground, scrunching your nose up as a gust of wind hit your face.
‘I’m sorry that I freaked out this morning.’ You finally broke the silence between you. ‘I just…I guess I that I was enjoying that little bubble that we were living in a bit too much.’
Steve smiled, nodding. ‘I know. Me too, doll.’
‘It’s just that things are going so well between us that it freaks me out.’ You continued. ‘Because I know that means it’s going to become serious.’
‘So, what are you thinking now? Where do you want to go with this? With us?’ He took a step closer to you.
‘Every time that I’ve got to this point in a relationship before, I’ve ended it.’ You sighed, but immediately panicked when you saw the look on his face. ‘Oh god, I should not have lead with that – I mean…You’re the first person I’ve met that I want to take that step with. It freaks me out but I want to do it. You just gotta me halfway, yeah?’
Steve’s face softened, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you into his chest. The action was soft, filled with relief and maybe – just maybe – love.
‘So, does this mean I can officially call you my girlfriend?’
You nodded, beaming. ‘I might freak out the first few times you do it, but of course.’
You pressed your lips to his, hands running through his soft hair. You both fell back against the wall, but you broke the kiss before it could become too heated. You knew where it was going and you weren’t going to put it past you and the super soldier to try and find somewhere to get off in the studio.
‘We gotta back to work,’ you sighed. ‘But I was thinking – the guys have been banging on at me all day about wanting to meet the rest of the Avengers.’
‘That’s funny,’ Steve chuckled, ‘because Bucky has been secret fangirling over them.’
‘Maybe we could go out for drinks?’ You asked. ‘Tomorrow night?’
He pressed another kiss to your lips. ‘It’s a date.’
‘Good.’ You beamed at him. ‘D’you get a cab here?’
You fumbled around in your pockets, producing a lighter, a crumpled-up piece of paper and a set of keys. You tossed the keys to him, and Steve caught them. He’d been dropping hints about wanting to ride your bike again – it was the other thing he’d been obsessed with since the night you two met.
‘Take my bike.’ You said. ‘I think it needs to be ridden by someone who doesn’t grind its gears.’
‘And here I was, thinking you couldn’t get any better.’
You rolled your eyes, pressing one last kiss to his cheek. ‘Now go! I’ve finally had some inspiration for a song that I’ve been stuck on.’
Was it soon to be writing songs about him? Probably. Did you care? Absolutely not.
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03:30 am
Woke up, and the first thing that I think about is you. There’s a lot of things I’m going to write here, and I think I want you to read them all. One by one.
It’s 3:30 in the morning, Wednesday. I don’t want to come to school today. You made coming to school such a joy. For real. I used to look forward to our conversations and laughs. Wow slut, I really really miss those days.
And I’ve been listening to music you like, and right now, I’m listening to those songs I showed you during Impact. That was the first time we’ve ever had actual contact, and I remember every detail in clear detail.
I cried myself to sleep last night. As a matter of fact, I cried a lot yesterday. Tried studying, working out, eating, everything possible, couldn’t take my mind off you. I know an apology was long overdue. But I’m sorry. I really am.
Slut, there’s a lot I’ve been thinking these few days. And they’ve all got you in it.
Suffocated, lost; these are words that only partially describe how I feel when my best friend doesn’t talk to me and doesn’t even look me in the eye anymore. You know that feeling when you realise something major is missing from your life? I’ve that feeling right now, and a lot of it.
Slut, seriously, think about this, when I tell you that you’re my best friend and the best one I’ve ever had, and I’d hold on to you for dear life, I’m not lying. I don’t think I’d lie about those things. I just feel the same.
Slut, I don’t remember if I called you a bad influence, but it’s stupid. If anyone is a bad influence, it’s me. I taught you cuss words, deep throat nonsense and whatnot, and I’ve been so abusive and difficult. I wish someone would just punch me in the face something, break all my 28 teeth.
Slut, what are you doing now? Sleeping? Okay slut, I can see you in my head now. Eyes welling up. Been up like a maniac since 3. First thing on my mind is you.
Also, slut, when I said I might switch on you in college, that’s bullshit. I said that cause of a fucked up ego, that I’ve consciously worked to change out. I think I’ve got a little more mature now, I’m not lying; I really see change.
Slut, come here with your cycle. I wanna talk to you in the dark. And watch the sun come up. I’m sad we don’t do that anymore. Also, I saw your mouth today. So cute. You look younger. Like the pictures you sent me.
You’ve lost a lot of weight, and your jawline is so good. I’ve done the opposite.
Also, slut, if you recall, I said I wanted to make a million memories with you. I still want to. So badly. Slut I’m convinced that you’re the best. There’s enough evidence and more than that. It hurtssssss. Slut I can’t stand that you won’t see my face.
I don’t know slut, how hard was it? Because I would fail if I took on this mission to ignore you. Slut, I know I’ve hurt you really bad this time, because you’re still mad at me.
I’ve bought you a book, and I want to give it to you sometime. It’s a Jhumpa Lahiri book. I just wanted to introduce you to a new type of person.
I’m shivering now. I’m terrified. What if you never talk to me ever again? What if we can never have the chance to make memories again? When you told me you’d pick me over K, I was devastated. I really didn’t think you liked me that much. But I can say without a doubt, that I’d choose you over anyone else for sure. No hesitation. That’s what you mean to me.
Slutttt, I miss you so much. Remember that drive? Slut, thinking about it makes me so nostalgic. Slut, can we go back in time? Like is it actually possible? Because I’d go back to that first day. Sliding that desk across the room. You looking at me and thinking I’m a clown. I’d give anything for you to just look at me again. And I’d relive those moments, make sure we’re fine.
Slutt, it’s really my fault. I’m not being sarcastic. And you’re not a bad influence, what can I say sluttttttt? What can I do to make things right? I suck. I don’t deserve you. God, I thank all these circumstances that got me closer to you. Every single factor. Slut, even before I’ve seen you, I’ve felt something for you. It’s that feeling when you know you’ve got to know someone so badly. Slut, I’m not letting my ego get between us ever again. So I just want you to talk to me. Please.
Boards are in a few months. After that, we won’t be in school again. Slut, what if you forget me after school? Slut, I don’t want you to go. I’m scared. I don’t want that to happen. Slut, we’re running out of time. I thought of talking to my mother and asking her to call your mother. But I didn’t want to force you to talk to me.
Slut I was the only person between us who was so possessive and jealous. I’ve noticed that quite often. But my ego never let me see it. Such a child slut.
I call you Ruj in my head, and slut everywhere else. Slut, you’re a permanent memory. You’ll always be someone I’ve got great admiration for. I hope you make it big, and well. Like I hope you get your pilot license, become the best designer to ever exist, and what not. I really hope you get ahead in life and become the best in your fields of interest.
Slut, I don’t want to feel hopeless. I just feel like I want some guarantee that we’d forget this and get together.
Ruj, we’ve been friends for so long, and I thought we had an understanding, and many fights along the way, but you drew the line here. No warnings, straight up just cut me out. I know there’s a limit to being a dick, and just because I’ve told you I’m a bad person, doesn’t give me the liberty to be such a cunt.
Ruj, I want to show you that I can change. That I can treat you the right way. I’d be glad if you gave me just one more chance.
17 years of existence. The best wishes I’ve ever got was on my 17th birthday. And I was actually sad the previous night, I thought everyone forgot me. And I wanted Arya to wish me🤮. Your wishes were way more than sufficient. My day was great when I read your email. Slut, I want to make you a promise, that I’ll think and act rationally, rather than being an impulsive and irritable dumbass.
So precious. I’m so ever eternally grateful you’ve been a part of my life, and I really wish you’re a part of my life until the end. Even after that. Slut, I know you might think I’m lying right now, but that isn’t true. These are my thoughts that I’m writing down. They come and go, so I thought of writing them down.
First day the school reopened, I came with hopes that you’d forgive me. But you were already so pissed off. Slut, I’m so sorry. Like I know it’s been my fault this entire time. I’m embarrassed, ashamed.
Slut, I’d choose you over my ego. And I’m serious. Slut, just one chance to make things right. One. And I’ll change my ways.
Slut I keep reading your email and crying. I remember when you said I made you cry when I ghosted you. I’m so sorry. I’m so damn sorry. Slut, do you even miss me one bit?
I don’t want to rip bandages off you. I don’t want to fucking switch on you. I want you. Just you is fine. My life is so fucking empty. I’m sorry. Slut, it makes sense now, what you were talking about in the email happened. You knew this whole time? That I was a dick? And that you’d get away for the better?
Slut, that email wa so passive aggressive it hurt. I felt bad when I read it, but I think that you wishing me in the first place was insanely nice. It’s not fine. What’s fine? No, me turning on you would be a violation of everything I hold dear to me.
I will never change my decision. Slut, I’ve understood your true value now. I mean, I’ve always known, but I just got ignorant in the middle.
Slut, I’m worried about the future. What if we live far away? What if you go to college somewhere else? I won’t get a new best friend and all. That’s for sure. It’s you or no one else. I decided to never get a best friend ever again if it wasn’t you. Slut, I’m asking for nothing else but your forgiveness. I’d be more than happy if you gave it some thought and told me if you want to talk to me. I’m so sorry. I could apologize a million times. But I just want you to know how sorry I am. And what you mean to me. Slut, if you don’t take the book tomorrow or the day after, I’m going to be so hurt. But I deserve to be.
You gave me all your passwords. Wow. Still can’t get over that. I wish I’d shared all of mine too. Life is so empty. My words can’t even describe what’s in my head. Slut, sorry. Mannichiko, ennaku theriyum nee kovamma irruka. If you came back though, I promise, I’ll be an actual best friend to you. Not that I wasn’t this whole time, I’ll treat you like the gem that you are.
I’m glad that our parents know each other. Like there’s a lot in common between us. Slut. Epdi irruka? No really, how are you? I haven’t been able to get through for the longest time. I want to know how you’re doing. Please let me know.
Wow, it’s been an hour.
Slut. I’m sorry for being an abusive and a stupid friend. I swear I’ve changed now, and I want you to look at the new me. Sorry for stealing your peace and fun, and I hope I’m not some kind of parasite. I loved each and every thing we’ve ever done.
Slut, it’s quite true, I started fighting with you most of the time. And I think I’ll cut down, not stop. If you gave me a chance. I love calling you names. Vivek, Khat, Ruj, Slut, Rujithaw, and whatnot. I loved it all. I still love it.
Also, I thought of bringing this up a long long time ago. You see, I tell you to listen to music and watch things etc. but you rarely ever suggest things. Midnight Sky, What Are The Odds are just a few things, and why do you assume I won’t like them? Midnight Sky is really good, and I think I don’t even have to talk about WATO. I loved it. Slut, I know this feeling. This feeling of emptiness, and I think the dead morning vibe adds to it. Slut I miss you. And I pray and hope that you come back.
Stud really loves and misses you. And so does Dobby. Dobby doesn’t lie about that.
Good morning slut, I hope you have an awesome day today. And I miss you, love you, and wish I could make things right. Bye for now.
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hecohansen31 · 5 years
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The Tomboy & The Model:
 Model! Michael Langdon+Tomboyish! Reader
(A/N): Hello lovelies!
I am back with a new Michael’s idea I hope you’ll like! 
I honestly firstly discussed this idea with @sojournmichael so big shoutout to her, and to my group of friends her for making me actually publish and write this fic, since I ended up having a bit or... PROBLEMS with it...
I am actually very out of the fashion industry so, exactly as with the cam-world, if you see some things which aren’t quite right, please let me know and I’ll do my best to actually correct them.
Also I tried to keep the reader being a tomboy a bit behind, so that anybody can try to see themselves in her, without having to stop anybody from feeling a bit like the Reader, so I hope you won’t hate me too much for that-
With this being said... I really hope you’ll like it, and please if you do end up enjoying, leave an heart, reblog he fic (if possible writing something... I am always the most anxious about hearing what you thought of my writing) or shot me an ask or a DM.
If you didn’t like it, please let me know, kindly, what didn’t work so that I could make it work better in the future!
Much love!
Hope you’ll enjoy this!
SUMMARY: You and shy model Michael could be the most different people in the world, but somehow you end up working quite well together.
WORDS: 9 K
WARNINGS: Sub! Michael, Dom! Reader (also brief mention of Dom! Michael and Sub! Reader), Spanking, Oral Sex (Male and Female Receiving), Orgasm Denial, A Bit Of Dirty Talk, Use of the F-word, and Drunken Assault.
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She had been always the type to prefer more masculine things: it wasn’t anything strange for her to run with the boys and play with them and slowly she had started taking over some of their mannerism.
It had been always her true nature to be much more masculine “than women were supposed to be”, according to her mother.
Her mother had been extremely disappointed by the fact that she hadn’t wanted to own a more feminine body and although she had made some concessions towards her style, she mostly went by her own way, which meant jeans, mostly large and graphic shirts for the summer and sweaters for the winter.
She enjoyed the gym and wasn’t afraid to assume a more manly role, such as paying for the bill or being the one who did the first move, which got her in so much trouble and rejections that she sometimes thought about giving up that nature just to get a bit of affection.
It hurt her to think about a future alone, although she had friends who loved and a family who supported her, but when everybody was so crazy about love, she couldn’t help but feel annoyed by her lack of.
She was a big romantic, underneath the harsh armor she wore.
And she was also a complainer, according to her roommate Mallory, who had set her up with a boy that Wednesday, insisting it would have been a fun idea.
“You basically set me up with a stranger” she had mumbled, meanwhile her roommate, a professional make-up artist, put eyeshadow on her lids after she had squeezed her in a nice outfit, still jeans but it was paired with a silky black blouse, giving her a vampire aesthetic she dug, enhanced by Mallory expert work with brushes and beauty blenders “I have watched too many “Law and Order SVU” episodes to believe that this will end well”.
“Shut up, and pucker up your lips” had replied Mallory, pushing out a shiny lip-gloss, getting an eyes roll from her, a clear way of asking her if it was truly necessary “… Michael is a nice guy, I wouldn’t set you up with psycho”.
She only had one clue, since according to Mallory “spoiling the identity of his date would ruin the magic of it”, alongside mumbling something about her being a bit too much of a cyber-stalker…
And that clue was that her date’s name was Michael, biblical and decidedly normal, too little for her to check him out on Instagram (although she had tried).
Mallory had gently rolled the lipstick onto her lips, till she was satisfied.
She already had felt uncomfortable due to the sticky sensation between her lips, deciding to clean it as soon as she was alone in the little diner they were supposed to meet for an appetizer.
Mallory had then pushed a mirror in her face, revealing a flushed face, and although the entire ensemble hadn’t made her feel like a clown, it was a bit too much for her.
Still it had looked definitely badass, enough that she knew why her roommate was so requested: she was lovely, without losing anything of herself.
“… also you look amazing” had mumbled shyly Mal, meanwhile she adjusted her hair, gently pushing out of her face “… he will have a dumbstruck expression when he’ll see you”.
She had doubted it, but she had felt confident and definitely not in need of the validation of a man.
And she definitely hadn’t needed her date being late, already annoyed by the entire ordeal, with a perfect plan to occupy better that night: “B99”, the last piece of cheesecake in the fridge and best of all… her bed, warm and comfortable.
She had been thinking this when suddenly she had felt a deep breath in front of her and she had raised her eyes as soon as the spot in front of her had been shadowed and there, in front of her, was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.
An elegant dust of red had been smeared on his lids, meanwhile kohl lined his eyes matching the outfit he had worn an elegant leather jacket on a red graphic shirt with “Gucci” written all over it, tucked in a pair of skinny ripped jeans, giving him a grunge look she fell in love with, meanwhile his face had an angelic trait, a clear contrast with his devilish outfit.
He had been blushing, clearly out of breath, his cheeks blossoming of a pink shade, meanwhile his eyes had tried to meet hers, looking at her as if she was searching something, which had gotten her to assume a confident stance or at least try to.
She had reasoned he couldn’t be a waiter, so he must have just come in, another client like her.
-I am Michael- he had blurted out and it had taken her a few minutes to link it with her date, meanwhile the boy had looked at her expectantly, without knowing what to do and asking for instructions -… Mallory’s friend-.
-Oh…- he was her date.
Her date was very beautiful: an androgynous god, with curly hair she wanted to caress.
-May… I … sit? – he had asked, shyly, ducking his head, meanwhile she had simply nodded trying to square up in her seat, and form a coherent dialogue.
-Of course- what a brilliant answer -… I am (Y/N), Mallory’s other friend- she had mumbled, cursing at the absurdity of her words, since he probably already knew, and she was being a fool, because his beauty had taken away any ability of hers to talk.
-I figured out- his laugh had been nice and warm, and he had offered her an hand after he had settled down; she was honestly grateful he hadn’t tried to come closer and kiss her, even just on the cheek, she was grateful he had half a knowledge of personal space -… I am also sorry for being late, I swear I don’t do it often… I had a photoshoot which took much more than I thought…-.
A photoshoot?
Was he a model?
He certainly had the look for it, being an ethereal creature with a big range, being able to assume a such a strong range, ruling both genders and all the ones between those.
-… you are a model? – she hadn’t meant to sound skeptical or anything, but she also hadn’t wanted to assume and just sound dumb…
-Yeah- his cheeks had become again flushed and she couldn’t help but want to pinch them gently but she had tightened the grip of her hands on her knees -… I know it’s strange, I still can’t believe it happened… one day you are in your grandma’s house and the following… you are shooting a photoshoot for Gucci-.
Hadn’t she been attracted before, she was now.
He clearly had seemed taken by the entire argument and she couldn’t help but love the shining passion in his eyes, his interest peaking when he mentioned the “Gucci” house, before hiding his face.
-… I am sorry I swear I am not trying to seem arrogant…- he had bitten his bottom lip, ashamed.
-Oh, don’t worry! – she had reached out her hand, pushing it over his shoulder, more to comfort him than actually to try anything, which had gotten her a grateful smile from him -…I actually know nothing about this world, but I also am very curious, so please talk all you want-.
He had become so red that she was sure he would have probably busted a coronary or something, but after a deep breath he had simply smiled and went back to talking about his life as a model and he also explained how he had met Mallory, working on a set for one of his photoshoot, since it wasn’t unusual for him to wear make-up (she had complimented the red eyelids, immediately getting a gentle smile).
“She is one of the best I have ever had: we need more sunshine-made people, on set!” he had giggled, meanwhile she had agreed that Mallory was everything good made as a person “… she said that she had a very cute roommate, meanwhile we were talking and she … said… “.
“I am sad that you in the end got a very annoying roommate” she had replied, meanwhile giggling a bit, just to be greeted with a slow gulp from the other boy who had then mumbled:
“I think that I actually got very lucky, instead, you are lovely” this had made her blush and the sudden silence had been interrupted by the waiter who asked their orders, letting them discuss on what they had chosen, Michael complimenting her drink choice, meanwhile she asked him if what had ordered wouldn’t make him gain weight, getting a wicked smile from Michael, who after a few minutes had started getting more at ease, even asking question on his own.
In the end, the night was nice and she actually had felt very enchanted by the shy model, who had suggested on her not getting an uber but getting a lift from him, so that he could apologize for his lateness; he had also tried to pay for the entire appetizer, getting instead a strict refusal.
“If you want a second date, you better understand that I am a pretty independent lady”.
She might have been wrong, but his eyes had shone interested at her own feistiness.
She had been bewildered at the elegant and sleek sportive car, immediately looking at it for a few good minutes, meanwhile Michael had explained he had paid it with the first money he had had, wanting something that could make him run away from everywhere.
“.. it’s presumptuous”.
“I think she is the prettiest” she  had giggled, entering it with extreme attention, not wanting to damage the pretty thing in the slightest “… you know the night is definitely going amazingly”.
“I thought that when I saw you in the table” again a simple mumble getting her to smile and her cheeks were rushed with blood “… I mean… I was honestly expecting some creepy girl”.
“… same” she had replied, meanwhile she had laughed shyly, the car revving itself up underneath her and she almost had had to restrain a scream of excitement meanwhile they rushed to her home, a soft choice of classical music, mixed with jazz coming from the radio.
“You can change it” Michael had mumbled, eyes on the road, but she could sense the self-conscious note in his voice “… all my friends say that I have the musical tastes of an old man”.
“I don’t mind it” she had sung along, humming softly at the tone, soon Michael was with her and when a few more popular songs came on the radio they belted out, the complicity that had started that night clearly shining and although it was just an appetizer, she was extremely taken by Michael.
She just hoped he felt the same, although they had joked, Michael’s shyness made it difficult for her to understand him and although she had wanted to try to be more proposing, she also hadn’t wanted to disturb the quiet of the poor boy, whereas he had confessed how awful some people made him feel.
“It is all so crazy: people somtimes say that they admire me, and then get into fights “for me”, they insult others because of that... and I mean... it is stupid and terrible to have this kind of power”
So, she had opted for a more posed approach, waiting for him to act, but they had arrived all too soon in front of her house, and she had to invent something to conclude the night happily.
-I had fun, tonight- he had mumbled, looking in front of him, his tell-tale blush reappearing -… I mean… I usually do not got out to these kind of things… it’s been so so long since I have had a date, so… I can understand if this sucked-.
She had been honestly surprised for his love failures: such a pretty face with that enchanting manners shouldn’t be left all alone.
-… it didn’t suck- she had leaned in, again caressing softly his shoulder, again to comfort him and suddenly he came extremely closer to her, enough for a kiss.
But she, instead, had panicked: it was the first time it happened with a boy, she usually was so confident and…
… and she had grabbed his cheeks, indeed the softest she had ever felt.
But she was also extremely aware of how silly the entire thing must have seemed.
Perfect.
She had met a nice guy… and she blew her chances.
Michael just looked at her in the face, definitely confused but then a shy smile had taken over and he had mumbled something about having had indeed fun and then had gone to open the door, as a gentleman, wishing her goodnight.
“Goodnight” she had mumbled back, fidgeting with the cars, then adding “… it was a very nice night”.
“Definitely funny” he had smirked, and waited for her to be inside of her house (she knew he had, because when she had turned around she had found him propped onto the side of the car, waiting for her, clearly wanting to seem disinterested, but he was blushing, a lot…) before running away with his sportive car.
She had been sure it was the last time she would have ever seen him.
He hadn’t tried anything and certainly he hadn’t kissed “goodnight”, which wasn’t a bad thing.
She didn’t mind boys who took their time and didn’t shove their tongues down her throat, but she had halfway hoped that with a cutie like Michael, the spark would fly and although she had known that his shyness would be a bit in the way…
… still she had no sign of his interest, except the “I had fun, tonight”.
Had he “had fun” with her just as a friend? Or as a date?
Both?
Neither?
That’s what she had asked herself the entire day: she had never been this level of head over heels for anyone, but shy, model Michael who was way out of her league…
She thought that fashion was a beautiful industry but not hers: fashionable dresses looked good, on everyone except her.
And the bad thoughts keep on annoying her, mostly because usually she handled well rejection: she moved on quickly, thinking that it was simply not the guy for her.
But this time, it made her feel bad, about herself and her feelings.
Mallory had noticed her struggle that night, when she had come back and immediately had asked info on her date, just to receive her extremely gloomy roommate, who thought that Michael had disliked her in everything:
“We had a nice night… I mean… I did, but I am not sure about Michael… he was…- “she had bitten her tongue, meanwhile she had thrown her head back “… he seemed a bit off… and definitely not interes…”.
But before she could have finished her thought, Mallory had sent her a look which said “please don’t speak bullshit with me”.
-… I literally had Michael fanboying all over me, about how wonderful it was to have a date with you- she had mumbled, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel her heart burst of pure satisfaction.
-Tell me more- she had mumbled, even adding the entire sing-song voice as if she was in “Grease” and Mallory had looked conflicted.
-… I am not sure I am allowed to say more… Michael is my friend…- she had mumbled, just to get (Y/N)’ puppy eyes and after an exasperated sigh -… he says that you were very nice to talk to, he is an introvert so he needs people who don’t feel life-sucking and he said that you were also very respectful, and that he tried to lean in for a kiss but you went to pitch his cheeks, so… he was sure you were the one who didn’t like him…-.
Oh shit…
Shitshitshitshit…
That poor self-conscious boy.
She must have scared him.
Mallory had been a step from spilling more tea, when her phone had buzzled and she had gone to retrieve it from its charging point just to realize it was an unknown number and she was halfway from not answering, sure that it was a call center, but then Mallory had just shouted quickly:
“Answer it! It might be Michael! I gave him your number” which had made her be extremely nervous, sending her an incredulous look: Mallory had taken this matchmaker role too far.
-Hello? – her voice wavering, not giving out too much, since she had been honestly scared of what might happen next… and worst of all that it might have indeed up to be a call-center.
-(Y/N)? – Michael’s voice was low and sweet, clearly shyness again shining in it, but she had known it all too well, although it was a bit distorted -… I am very sorry to bother you-.
-Oh, don’t worry, Michael… you are not disturbing me, in the slightest- she had adopted the immediate charm of her best flirting -… I am actually glad that you called me-.
-… oh…- she had then known that Michael was straight up blushing behind the phone -… well, I am glad that you answered me, and I hope you won’t think this is creepy, I asked your number to Mal-.
The entire phrase had been a continued babble, too fast that she had found it a bit difficult to follow him but it was extremely endearing.
-I don’t mind it, in the slightest- she had smiled, confidently -… I am actually happy she did, so that we can talk a bit more, I enjoyed our conversation, yesterday-
Michael had choked on the other line and after a few minutes of silence, she had felt him try to breath out a deep breath, before blurting out:
-…what about talking more, on a second date? -.
The second date had been lovely and they had been able to know each other in a more intimate way: she had talked about her body-issues, and how she had slowly moved upon the more tomboyish side, baring a part of her soul she hadn’t expected him to get and to even compliment.
“I am an androgynous model” he had mumbled, meanwhile they discussed over it at dinner, this time in an elegant restaurant he had suggested “… so I know that the entire thing about gender roles is stupid”.
He had also told her about his life, before modelling, stretching out on how comfortable he felt with her…
“… these are extremely delicate things…” he had mumbled, as a way of requiring her discretion “… my parents had trouble because of me, I was a very unwanted pregnancy and they both… died, when I was a child, so I was passed onto my grandmother: she wasn’t an amazing person, but it was due to her that I first got into modelling”.
She had shot the photo, which had made him famous, more out of pride, a prize to show to her friends, the one she met at the hair-dresser and the one with whom he she played bridge: she had posted it even on Facebook, with Michael’s help and the following day… a model agency was at his door.
“It was all too sudden” he had commented, meanwhile he had munched onto their appetizer, clearly not as refined in his aspect as with his manners “… but it was worth it; I am away from that horrible place and I have a bright future, for me”.
“That seems honestly lovely, I am glad that you had this all” and she still hadn’t understood why he would even think about going out with her, whereas everything around him was so bright, so charming and fascinating.
And she was just a simple piece.
Not the best one, not the worst one.
He had then proceeded with modelling funny stories, meanwhile she narrated her own ones, laughter  had been leaving her mouth constantly the same from his, although blush never left his cheek, but his confidence had been slowly appearing and this time when he had leant in, after he had accompanied her back, she had kissed him.
Softly and shyly, clearly not wanting to hurt him or scare him away, but he had surprised her being bold enough to ask for a second kiss, and a third one and then she had felt his phone vibrating in his jacket (they had been so close during the kiss) and he had ignored it, a first time, just to lean in for his fourth kiss, his nose bruising against hers.
But at the second vibration, he had had to answer, with a grimace and she hid a little silly smile.
“Give me just a few minutes, please” he had asked, pleading with puppy eyes, and she let him, moving towards her house, blowing him a silly kiss.
They hadn’t met for another two weeks, since Michael’s phone call had been from his agent, John Henry Moore, an ex-model, who had programmed for him a little trip in Asia for a special photoshoot, and then, a little  stay there for a modelling workshop with models from all over the world.
“You literally have no idea how boring it is in there” he always told her, when she was allowed to call her, time-zones always coming in the way “They are all so self-absorbed”.
It was a big joke, because he then told her all about how he had managed to make friends with each of the other models, although some were indeed presumptuous, “something was definitely stuck up there” he laughed, meanwhile she told him, about her “non-model routine”.
“I woke up, went to my job, passed a bit at the gym, did a bit of grocery shopping…” and he listened to her as if she was narrating him some epic adventure, whereas her life was completely the most annoying  “… you seriously never get annoyed by my silly stories?”.
“Maybe I like the sound of your voice, a bit too much” he joked, and it was in that time that his voice and words made her center turn into molten liquid.
But Michael was not only shy, but sexual suggestions or innuendos were ineffective on him.
She could have probably laid naked in front of him and he would have been like “how was your day, lovely? Have you forgotten your clothes?”.
And part of her liked him all the same, and another part… wanted to push him down her bed, half of the time they spent together, because of that innocence.
A month had been enough to declare them “boyfriend and girlfriend”, which had gotten a delighted squeal from Mallory, one of the few who knew about their relationship, since they preferred keeping it private for another bit of time.
And for her it was enough: her sweet and handsome boyfriend who had a real talent for seeing beauty in each thing, even a tomboy like her.
A week, after two months together, he had suggested she joined him as his plus one at a party for the release of a collection of one of his stylist friends:
“I thought it would have been a fun idea for a different night out” he had mumbled, meanwhile he had blushed, probably because she had sat down on his lap, meanwhile they were in his luxurious loft, which he shared with other models, but they went out for the night so it was just the two of them “…if you don’t feel comfortable or anything…”.
“I think that I would enjoy it very much, Michael” she had giggled, staring to lay joking kisses all over his face “… I am just a bit confused on what to wear, I don’t know if I have anything proper for it”.
“What about the pantsuit you wore, when we went out, the last time” she couldn’t help but remember Michael’s face at the elegant pantsuit she had worn at their date in an expensive restaurant, an impulse buy, which had proven worth of its price (which was a lot) after she had seen Michael’s surprised face.
Her shy boyfriend had looked at her as if she was a freaking night goddess.
“I don’t think that it would follow the theme of the night” she had reminded him, hugging him closer, and leaving a few kisses in his exposed collarbone, meanwhile her nose followed the scent of the cologne he used, something which drove her crazy “Isn’t it “rock and fashion” themed?”.
“I am pretty sure that nobody would mind, after they see you in that outfit” he had blushed, hiding softly his face in her hair, meanwhile she had giggled at his silliness, diving in for a kiss on the crown of his hair.
“You are too cute, Michael” she had complimented him, meanwhile he had taken a step back to look at her in the eyes.
“… and you are a goddess, (Y/N)”.
This time it was her who had hidden in his neck, meanwhile he had smirked happily, as if his goal in life was to breakdown her tough exterior.
In the end she had managed to find something which was “fashionably rock and roll”, putting herself in a tight mini-skirt of jeans with fishnets and a leather jacket, which basically showed the least effort into it, not that she actually cared of matching the theme or seeming like the queen of the night, but she didn’t want to shame Michael, who clearly belonged into the world.
She had also allowed Mallory to paint her face, choosing a tough smokey eye with a crazy eyeliner and a dark lipstick, and she thanked God that it was matte, because she didn’t know how to applique it again without making a mess.
It was a bit excessive and Mallory had smudged it to match the grunge aesthetic of her outfit.
She had sent Michael a picture, after the make-up was realized getting back a ton of emojis (mostly fire and hearts), since when words fail, emojis worked perfectly for the model, so she felt a bit confident of her ensemble, although she felt like she was going to a masquerade party instead of a stylist lavish party.
And she couldn’t help but feel even worse, when she saw Michael’s full outfit: he had worn a pant version of what she had, with ripped jeans, showing fishnets under it, a strange cut shit, clearly made so it would seem ripped, but what was even more attractive was the corset over the shirt, which was extremely revolutionary but also it low key gave her a shit ton of ideas…
His make-up was spectacular, red highlighted the tiny speckles of green in his azure eyes, meanwhile the expert contouring highlighted the strong bone structure of his face, his cheekbones basically standing out on their own, with an elegant trace of blush, mixed with expert contouring.
Dark lips were smeared like hers and she low key sent her thanks to God, knowing that if they did make-out they wouldn’t have ruined the effect of the lipstick.
It was definitely the work of an expert, but she guessed that he had done it himself, since he had admitted, expecting her to hate him, that he liked the creative expression of make-up, the way it could change a face and highlight gracefully or destroy flaws, empowering a human.
“It’s a body-art, I honestly love it with all my heart, although it isn’t masculine or…”.
“If you think that I care about anything like that, you probably got me wrong” she had replied, caressing his curly hair “… you could dress up as a clown, and I would still want to kiss you”.
But that time, Michael had honestly outdone himself and she couldn’t help but admire him, beneath the lights of the entrance of the rented place they had chosen for the party.
“Do I have something on my face” he had mumbled, meanwhile she just awed at his face and as he had gone to grab her hand.
“Yeah… it’s a thing called beauty” she had replied, getting a quick laugh from the boy, who had just smirked, leaning in for a kiss.
“I really dig this Billy Hargroove’s girlfriend dress, babe” he had complimented her, with the sarcastic side she had discovered he did own  “… but seriously, I think that I will have to keep you by my side for the entire event, or some model or stylist might steal you away from me”.
She had just blushed, mumbling about being only his, before they had strutted in, her less confidently of Michael, who, if he was even slightly nervous didn’t show it, at ease amongst elegant people in the chicest clothes she had ever seen, the kind you saved on your Pinterest boards.
She had met a lot of people, quickly forgetting a ton of names, but everyone seemed nice enough and they had kept offering her champagne, complimenting her for landing a beauty such as Michael, although she honestly felt like it wasn’t beauty the only thing that brought Michael out and made him special, but she had tried not to fight with Michael’s “friends”.
The stylist Ryan had been actually very nice, and she had been thankful for Michael’s fashion history lessons, so that she could navigate comfortably the conversation, but also Ryan, unlike the others, was actually also interested in her and asked a bit about her.
At a certain time, Michael had left her to give a cheer, something for which he had needed a few kisses of reassurance for, but he had done just fine as she had observed him raising her glass with complicity in her eyes, when he had finished his discourse.
And apparently her smile had done something for him.
He immediately had cornered her in a shadowy place, the boldest move she had firstly seen him do, not that the others had bothered, since they had been all busy taking in the next talker on the stage.
“We should get out, now that I have done my thing” he had suggested, clearly he had also reached its maximum of social energy.
“… what do you suggest, my knight in a shining armor?” she had asked, her hand in his, meanwhile they had moved out of the elegant house, inventing excuses as they met the people that they had talked with at the start of the night.
“There is a little diner not too away from here, it’s cute and it has a wonderful 50s aesthetic that I know you would dig” he had said, and you couldn’t help but feel moved by his sudden confidence: was it the confident outfit or the expressive make-up who brought this side of him out?
She hadn’t been complaining and she had let herself be led, in the diner, which was supposed to be only a few block away, so they hadn’t taken Michael’s car, and this had given them a good excuse to make out clumsily, dizzy on the champagne in the first alley they fhad ound, feeling like horny teenagers, but she hadn’t minded it so much when Michael had kissed her neck like rose petals, his curly hair tickling her face, meanwhile she giggled a bit too loudly.
Right when hands had slipped under the clothes, she had heard coughs and two guys, a bit drunk by the way they held onto each other, and she immediately straightened up, exactly like Michael, who blushed lightly.
She and Michael had moved to get away from the embarrassing situation but the two drunkards had started laughing and used the q-world.
Michael had seemed greatly unaffected, but he had just tried to pass of, but she couldn’t ignore it and had shot those two an hateful glare, but this was ineffective, since the two men just whistled at her but worst of all they said:
“What is a pretty girl like you doing with such a faggot?”.
But it didn’t stop there.
“Maybe she is the one with the dick, you know there are these disgusting people…”.
Michael couldn’t stop her, although he had tried to grab her arm, to stop her and get her to run away as fast as possible from those two, he had deemed dangerous.
“You just insulted my boyfriend, pricks” she had never been one to speak up about anything, but she had always had her own strong opinion, and this constant feeling of having to defend those she loved, like Michael “… I suggest you to say sorry”.
She had tried to keep her tone calm, but it didn’t work so well, since her fists had been shaking on her side, and Michael had tried to call her, saying it was no big deal.
But she had known it was a big deal: it was why Michael cowered in fear when he had to admit his passion for make-up, the fact that he was a model and he struggled to see that she loved him for who he was.
“What if we don’t want to, little freak?”.
Well, she had always known one way to make men listen.
And she had kneeled the nearest bastard straight in the groin, and as one went out, the other went down with him.
“Leave us alone, assholes” and she had turned around, cleaning her hand over her fishnets, meanwhile Michael had had this heated glance on his face, as if she had just stripped naked in front of him.
“I think that the diner might not be the best place after this” his pupils had been full-blown, he clearly had seen something he liked and she had dared just a light glance to his skin-tight jeans, just to discover, there was indeed a bulge in them.
“Mallory is over at her girlfriend’s house” she had suggested and soon they were again in Michael’s car, his hand gently skimming over her thighs.
Sexuality was something that she hadn’t very much explored with Michael, both due to his shyness and both to the fact that they were both taking it slow, but to say she wasn’t suddenly aroused was a lie.
She felt powerful for the effect she had had on Michael when she had fought those two pricks.
The rush onto the stairs almost made her trip onto herself and Michael, a few good laughs coming from their mouths, quickly shushed by their kisses and as soon as they were behind closed doors…
… she finally got her hands on the corset which had been teasing her all night, the idea of it staying during sex made her smirk, meanwhile Michael helped her out of the loose blouse she wore, immediately eyeing her simple bralette: she hadn’t meant to dress sexy, although it was almost part of the aesthetic so…but at least her panties and bra matched.
Michael looked at her, reverently and shyly, as if he was waiting for her to decide what to do, next… as if he was completely in her hands, a sensation which got to her head and to her thighs.
“That corset…” she mumbled, through kisses, Michael did know what he was doing, “… it made me feel things for the entire night”.
“… and that stunt, with those guys…” his eyes were honestly so dark that she almost thought he had contacts on, and he was so hard against her thigh “… I honestly was so scared, but you were so brave, you always are”.
She blushed, the mood dissipating a bit of sexiness in exchange for a softness, shining in her eyes as she guided him gently towards their sofa, straddling his lap.
“I am not, I was scared shitless, and it was definitely the champagne…” she joked, caressing gently his hair, pulling them back, away from his sweaty forehead, before laying a soft kiss on it “… you are the cool one, looking fearless on the catwalk, I would just fall on my face and make fun of myself”.
“You wouldn’t” he still laughed at the image “… but even if you did, you would just get up, as fierce as when you kicked that man in the crotch. Also remind me never to make you angry”.
“Right now I am awfully horny so…” she mumbled, meanwhile grinding against his thigh particularly roughly “… you better do something about it”.
“Not on the couch” he giggled, gently raising her “Mallory wouldn’t be happy”.
She continued with the kissing, the mood settling on a more romantic night, with him releasing her on the bed softly, not missing her little smiles.
And that was when the entire mood of the night shifted.
“You looked like a goddess, with those two assholes” Michael’s voice was breathy and before she knew it he was rutting into her, the hotness of the entire situation letting a silken breath be let out from her lips “… you were definitely the hottest woman I have ever seen”.
She didn’t know where it came from, but she couldn’t help but love that submissive tone in Michael’s hazy eyes, pleading her to do something, anything, and she did it, reversing their position and throwing herself on top of him, clearly in power right now.
This was power: the reverent look in Michael’s eyes, as if she was just sitting on his hipbone as if she was on a throne, her throne.
She tentatively grinded against him, slowly almost a caress against his clothed cock, meanwhile his face scrunched, eyes rolling back and she lowered herself to lick his neck, from his collarbones to the soft skin under his ear.
Moans erupted from Michael’s mouth and she giggled, at the tone, immediately going back to her previous position, smiling wickedly at the effect she had on him, before leaning down to kiss his lips, and whisper:
“Is this ok?” for her to take control on him for that night, drunk on the sheer power of relented dominance, but before she did more she wanted to check with him.
Sex and sexual preferences hadn’t been that discussed between them, so she wasn’t sure if this was something that Michael might even slightly be into, and she didn’t want him to regret this or to be even slightly uncomfortable with her.
“I thought that what I had between my legs was enough to say that I am enjoying this” giggled Michael, with more words she had heard him utter since the two drunkards had interrupted their make-up session “… but yeah it is ok… I actually prefer being… submissive in bed”.
She knew she wasn’t his first partner, Michael had had a previous relationship with a fellow male model (he had told her this when things had started being actually getting deeper between them, mostly because he was scared that she might be “prejudiced” towards him… strangely she wasn’t in the slightest) but she wouldn’t have guessed that he preferred the submissive role.
He was pretty shy, but Michael knew what he was doing constantly, unlike the constant chaos she was.
“Oh” she simply mumbled, before gently grabbing his hand from his side, pushing them up, over his head “… then… I think it’s my time to do something about it…”.
And she reached behind his legs, touching him over the clothes, meanwhile his hips keep rutting in the heel of her hand, meanwhile she giggled with mischief in her smile.
“… if you feel uncomfortable in the slightest, say “Gucci”…”.
She had never been the “dominant” of her relationships she hadn’t also very much thought about it, since sex was always some kind of childish thing with her previous partners: it was as if it had its passages and then… it was done… finished, whether you came or not.
Things had never been discussed and, although she tried to be vocal on her likes and her dislikes, most of the time “the man knew better” and she was always halfway through kicking them in the groin the following morning when they offered a second round.
That’s why she wanted Michael to be comfortable.
And also… not to lose that gaze full of admiration for her, although she felt like she might not deserve it.
“Did you…?” Michael laughed straight up in her face, and before she knew it her hand had quit the movement on his clothes and delivered a sound slap to his thigh, getting a pained moan “… that hurt”.
“You disrespected me, baby boy” she didn’t know how she had managed to speak like that, mostly due to her hate for pet-name, but Michael (literally) stood at attention  “… it doesn’t work like that, you do it one more time, and you will not come for the entire night”.
Michael gulped down a big load of saliva and she took a moment to wait for his answer, taking in the beauty of the model: some of the red eyeshadows had been roughly smushed around the lid, and she saw the lipstick mark of the color she had worn that night on his neck.
He still looked like a beauty and she was curious about how beautiful he could get if ruined.
“Yes, mistress” he replied, searching her approval, since her gaze had wandered off him, but he didn’t dare touch her “I will be more respectful”.
She gently caressed his face, collecting a bit of sweat, before she leaned down on a kiss-mark to bite on it gently and leaving a hickey on it.
And meanwhile this happened, she delivered another slap to Michael’s hip, hearing him let out a pained moan which she quieted with a kiss, cooing him in his mouth, meanwhile she gently guided to turn him around.
“Good boy” she started peppering kisses on his shoulder-blades, Michael relaxing again under her touch and didn’t see the sound slap she gave him on his plump ass, which got an howl from the poor boy “… this is for speaking up, in matters you don’t have a say into”.
She then delivered another.
“This is for not being quick in answering me, I expect the best from my boy”.
Another.
“This is for not counting… and believe me you will get one till we reach ten” she waited for Michael frail “three”, checking any discomfort in his voice, but although Michael’s held a painful sting to it, it was hazed and rough due to the excitement he was in “… and then if you are a good boy… I might think about letting things go further…”.
And this got Michael to count, whining for each slap, till ten, meanwhile she adjusted him onto her laps (she couldn’t help but laugh at the size difference, but only inside, outside she needed to try to be stern).
When Michael breathed out the “ten”, she gently helped him to get in a more comfortable position, meanwhile he kind of limped due to the redness and stinginess on his ass, which she caressed in an attempt to comfort him, as she gently cooed him and complimented him on how well he had taken his punishment.
“My beautiful good boy…” she cooed on his lips, gently kissing him with peppering kisses, in an attempt to get his hazy eyes to focus on her, which happened and immediately Michael was on her lap, trying not to crush her, giggling gently.
“Wasn’t I good, mistress?” mischief shined in his eyes, which clearly told her that he knew the answer “… don’t I deserve a reward?”.
She knew that she was being a bit too easy to satisfy him, that she should have made him beg more…
… but he was the cutest with his pouty lips.
And she lowered onto him, her nose skimming his stomach, laying wet kisses on it with carefulness to his gasps and his moans, mapping his skin, from the most sensitive to the least, passing again on the formers in order to blow air on them and leave hickeys on them.
She then reached his pants and brought them down, alongside the fishnets, his bulge appearing from his designer boxers, the length clearly bigger than the ones she was “accustomed” to, and her mouth watered, opening slightly and mouthing over the “Versace” boxers.
Michael shifted and she just needed a glare to make the flinching stop, a nervous glance shone again in Michael’s face, as if he was scared, but that fear brought him even closer to ecstasy she knew it, but the way its body trembled under her fingers, meanwhile she traced patterns on his stomach.
“Don’t ruin your reward, sweetie, wouldn’t want to hold you over the edge, right when you are falling from it”.
And then her mouth engulfed him again, taking more than before, still over the fabric but he lost himself, still he kept himself stiller than before, for which he was rewarded with a tiny peck on the tip of his cock, meanwhile an hand went to fondle him inside the boxers, finally pushing them down.
Her eyes shone at the leaking pre-cum on the tip, at the redness and silky feeling of the entire length which was confirmed by a quick touch, getting a shy moan from Michael: he sounded almost pathetic, but there was some melody in that ruin.
She lowered her mouth on him, meanwhile her eyes met him and soon their gazes were enthralled and linked, and she was unable to watch away as much as him…
… and when her mouth wrapped on him, he closed his eyes, just to be slightly reprimanded with a slap on his thigh, and a silly pinch.
She started with the tip, kitten lick and engulfing it in the warmth of her mouth, and the moved further, trying to take as much as she could and fit the rest in her hands, meanwhile teeth were sheltered under her lips, and hair fell down deliberately around her.
She must have been a truly masterpiece.
But Michael kept on looking at her, as if she was indeed some goddess and she only felt spurred by this to continue her ministration, till she felt him twitch and she backed off from him, a devilish smile on her face.
“… beg me, my sweet boy”.
Michael was clearly taken by surprise and she couldn’t help but lean down to kiss his lips, letting him taste pre-cum on them, but retreating to quickly, another way to tease him, as the hands that wasn’t working on him, caressed distractedly his nipples.
“I am not hearing anything, Michael” she taunted him, lightly.
“Please…” it was soft, and low, and she pretended not to hear it “… please, mistress, I need to come…”.
“That was quite cute, but you didn’t seem so desperate…” she considered, even holding an hand under her chin, as if she was thinking about it as the other speed up the rhythm on his cock “… and don’t forget… you have to wait for my permission to cum”.
Michael sniffled, slightly, showing teary eyes and she broke off character thinking that maybe she had gone too far.
“… did I go too far?” any teasing or annoying tone was brought away, and just worry filled her eyes.
Michael also broke away from his role, although tears shone in his eyes, he smiled, shyly.
“I haven’t said Gucci, have I?” he asked, sassily and the ruling part of her wanted to gently slap him across the face, for such disrespect, but then his voice broke off, excitement and haziness showing in her “… I am fine”.
“I was just scared I got a bit taken by this…” she tried, meanwhile he gently “… but now that we both know it’s fine, I suggest you to beg, because if you are not that desperate we can go on, for a little bit… longer”.
Michael’s teary eyes this time didn’t stop her and she just waited, till Michael obnoxiously mumbled a “please” after another, and another and she knew that he was basically on the brink of an orgasm, and although it would have been truly cruel to let him like this, she gave him the nod, which led to the permission…
…which lead him to come roughly and thick creamy cum was soon coating her hand.
He almost passed out, since not only he was breathing heavy enough for her to be sure that even the neighbors heard him, and worst of all his eyes rolled back and for a few moments she was sure that he was out for the tonight.
But then his hand reached out for her, as if he was asking for something to anchor him back after a mind-blowing orgasm, which got her to cradle him closer, his hand on her thighs, gently caressing his hair, meanwhile she waited for him to come back.
And when he did, he smiled softly and shyly, and she did her best to reassure him with gentleness and softness trying her best to make the atmosphere feel comfortable with him.
“I have to admit that I have never… you know… that hard”.
It was almost cute to see Michael like that after he had just acted that loosely with her, but she tried not to bring it up, the poor boy was already burning from embarrassment, she just shushed him,,kissing his forehead.
“Well… it was also my first time, in that kind of dynamic, I hope I wasn’t too rough” she asked, meanwhile she kept on taking slow care of him.
She thought about seriously giving him a bath, mostly because they were both a sticky mess, and the eyeshadows she had loved was smeared also on his nose, which she flickered gently to get his attention.
“… you were amazing” he replied, softly, his tone rough “… I think that nobody did make me feel like this, I honestly felt so secure with you, you always make me feel, like that”.
“Of course, sweetie” she kissed his nose, this time; the compliment went straight up to her mind, she couldn’t help but feel amazed that he felt like that about her, it was an honor, truly “… I love you, and this means that I want every inch of you”.
“People have always made me feel stupid for what I was…I was always too pretty, too stupid, too feminine and nobody ever wanted me for me” he gently reached for one of her hands, to kiss it gently “… not you, you are infinitely patient with me, and don’t mind each of my ‘flaws’…”.
“They are not flaws, Michael” she replied, meanwhile he looked at her up, surprised “… they are what make you, you, and I wouldn’t change anything in the slightest, so don’t even think about a moment that they ‘flaws’ “.
“You make me beyond happy, (Y/N)” he mumbled shyly, kissing again her hand, and laid a soft kiss onto her thighs, and she couldn’t help the shiver that left her body at the sheer contact.
For the entire time she had been focused only on Michael’s pleasure, but she couldn’t hide for much more hers, copious and heavy between her thighs, wetting the inside of them and she was sure that had Michael kissed a bit higher, he would have met her wetness.
She was still wearing her fishnets and panties under them, but her excitement was evident, and Michael couldn’t help but take in, a guilty look on his face.
“I wasn’t a true gentleman… I didn’t let you finish first” he mumbled, shyly and he quickly moved to make himself place between her legs, his intention clear.
“… oh you don’t have to” she giggled, trying to dissipate her embarrassment, closing her legs to stop him “… it was fine, I actually”.
“Oh no you don’t get it” he rapidly broke her fishnets and she couldn’t help but wonder where her gentle boy had gone, mostly when he looked at her like that, with a devilish glint in his eyes “… I want my revenge for before, so sit back, little princess and let me handle it”.
And soon his tongue was between her legs and she couldn’t think about anything more, except begging for more.
… oh, how the table have turned.
Mallory was drinking her coffee, when they finally decided to exit the bed, Michael had insisted for a morning round, just to be remembered halfway through it that he had a meeting in thirty minutes, and she had had to take the reins in her hands.
Well, now they were both satisfied and in need of breakfast, just to be welcomed by Mallory’s knowing glance, and she discovered even more because of the evident hickeys on both of them, and the little bruises she had left on Michael’s hips with the pinching and the slapping.
(Michael still hissed when he sat down on the table, for the spanking of the previous night).
“Shouldn’t you be at Coco’s?” she asked to dissipate the embarrassment.
“I have a meeting in twenty minutes” and then she looked at Michael, after she had taken a sip from her coffee mug “So does Michael”.
The boy, smiled shyly, almost hiding behind her and she wondered where had gone the boy who had eaten her out till tears, last night, rutting his hips in the mattress…
… probably the same place where Mallory’s interest for her own matters went.
“I can give you a lift, if you get me a mug of coffee” suggested Michael and Mallory just smirked, going to the kitchen, leaving them alone, meanwhile Michael gently leaned down for a “goodmorning kiss”.
“… see you tonight, lovely” he giggled, before kissing again his forehead.
“So we are that couple?” she replied, sarcasm coming from each poor of her.
“Sweetie you kicked somebody in the groin for me, of course we are that couple” he exclaimed, kissing her forehead quickly “… love you”.
“Love you, too”.
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existential-angstt · 5 years
Text
so this was one of those headcanons that makes you sit bolt upright in bed and turn on the lamp because if you don’t write it down you’ll never get the right feel of it down and you’ll hate yourself forever
I hope you like it 
EDIT: HERE’S THE AO3 LINK! https://archiveofourown.org/works/20046472
Tabitha Drescoll was ever so tired. She’d been a patient at St. Bart’s all her life and even though seven years wasn’t comparatively a very long time, it felt like an eternity. Tabby’s Wednesday nurse, Olivia, passed by the room and poked her head in. “Need anything, sweetie?” Tabby shook her head, but her melancholy must have shown through a little.
Olivia smiled. “Want me to text AJ? See if he can come for a bit?” Tabitha’s face lit up and she nodded.
Crowley was hiding something and Aziraphale was determined to find out what. Aside from performing the odd bit of evil (Crowley’s idea of “evil”, meaning gluing coins to sidewalks) he really didn’t go dashing off anymore. Except for someone who texted him once or twice a month. Crowley’s phone would vibrate, he would glance at it, and then he’d make some cheap excuse and take off in the Bentley. Sometimes he’d be gone for hours and even once or twice, days at a time. Zira even caught a glimpse of one of these forbidden text messages once-- it was from someone called Olivia in Crowley’s phone and it simply read “Need you”.
He couldn’t possibly be seeing someone, could he? What else could explain the odd text from a woman Az didn’t know, a text that sent Crowley running for his car?
When Aziraphale called Anathema about possibly working a tracking spell for him, she was glad this was a phone conversation because she couldn’t hold back the urge to roll her eyes. “Just track his phone, Aziraphale. It’s not difficult, Newt could tell you how to do it.”
From the kitchen, Newt called back, “I could but the phone may explode.” Anathema rolled her eyes once more. “Say, how would you ‘track’ his phone?” Aziraphale said. This was a celestial being taking a phone call on an antique phone.
“Okay, do you have an android or an Iphone?” Anathema said, grabbing Newt’s phone for reference. Anathema suddenly smacked her palm to her forehead, recalling a prophecy about this exact detail of Aziraphale’s shop. “You don’t have a smart phone, do you?”
“Well,” Aziraphale said,  looking down at his rotary phone lovingly, “I got this one not too long ago, just six or seven decades past and it was on sale-”
“Aziraphale, focus. Now what’s Crowley’s phone number?” Anathema interrupted. Zira relayed the information and waited with baited breath. “He’s at St. Bartholomew's Hospital. Do you know someone there?” The angel frowned on the other end of the line.
“No, I don’t believe so. Still, if that is where he is, that is where I shall go. Thank you, Ms. Device, it is always a pleasure.”
“It’s Mrs. Pulsifer now. Take care, Aziraphale.”
Aziraphale found himself stepping out of a cab in front of St. Bart’s. Whatever could Crowley be dong here?
With no idea where to start looking, the angel wandered the lobby helplessly, letting himself take in the surroundings and even browse the little shop they had (so people could shop).  Aziraphale noticed that several of the staff were whispering and pointing in his direction, so he approached one of the nurses in the hopes that they knew where he needed to be.
“Excuse me, madam, I’m looking for-”
“AJ? You’re AJ’s husband, aren’t you?” the nurse said, lowering her clipboard and looking him up and down.
“I- I’m sorry, I’m not sure who-”
“He’s up on the 9th floor, children’s ward. Room 206,” the nurse replied, turning to leave the desk and hurry off to wherever she needed to be next. Aziraphale's brow’s knitted together but he followed the nurse’s instructions and took the elevator to floor nine. The walls were decorated with clowns and circus animals but the mood of the place was generally very grim.
202, 204… 206. There it was. Aziraphale gulped and knocked on the door. A high voice called from inside, “Come in!”
Aziraphale pushed open the door gently and stepped inside. A girl of about six or seven sat in a hospital bed with a book propped open on her lap. “Sorry, my dear, I was just looking for-” Aziraphale’s voice disappeared as he noticed what book she was holding.
“Where did you get that?” the angel said, pointing at the book.
“My friend AJ brought it to me. It’s my favorite book.” she said, closing it and stroking the cover. It was a second edition of Wuthering Heights and it had an easily identifiable red wine stain on the corner of the front cover; it had gone missing from Zira’s book shop several years ago.
“AJ?” Aziraphale said.
“And you’re Aziraphale, aren’t you?” she said knowledgeably.
“Hn- wh- ho- did-” Az stammered, mouth falling open.
“AJ told me all about you. I’ve always wanted to meet you, but he always said you were busy. He should be back soon. Sit down.”
Aziraphale was so confused and upset that he did, taking the chair by her bed. “You really do have a wonderful collection.” the little girl said, holding up the book again.
“So-- AJ. Who is AJ?” Aziraphale managed, sitting forward in the chair. The little girl laughed.
“Your husband, silly.”
“All right, Tibby Tabby, I’ve found them. It only took three sweet shops, but-” Crowley stared at Tabby and Aziraphale and they stared back. Crowley was holding a box of chocolates and a large plush lion. The silence stretched a little too long before Crowley said, “Aziraphale?”
“Crowley.”
“Crowley?” Tabby said, wrinkling her nose. Crowley glanced between Tabby and Zira and back again.
“Sometimes.” Crowley shrugged and walked over to the bed, setting the chocolates and the stuffed animal down on the bed in front of Tabby. Tabitha reached her arms out for Crowley and he hesitated, looking at Aziraphale. Az cocked an eyebrow. Crowley climbed onto the bed and pulled the small girl into his lap as she picked up the chocolates.
“You really found them!” “Your favorites,” Crowley said fondly, his eyes still locked on Aziraphale, daring him to say something. Az only smiled at him softly. This was proof. Real proof that Crowley was good and Crowley was sure to get upset if he said something so he didn’t.
“So however did you two meet?” Aziraphale said.
Before the demon could say anything for himself, Tabby said, “Wellllllll,” the way children do before long-winded stories.
“I was found in a dumpster when I was just a baby. Apparently some kid’s nanny was passing by and heard me crying so she brought me here so I would be okay. But she had to move away so she asked AJ to look after me whenever he could and now we’re like, basically best friends.” Tabby said, popping a chocolate into her mouth. She twisted around in Crowley’s lap to press one of the candies to his lips with her tiny fingers. Crowley opened his mouth obediently and ate the chocolate, pushing some of the hair out of Tabby’s face.
The angel and the demon stayed another few hours (promising to come back the next day, Aziraphale holding onto a list of books he thought might suit Tabby) before heading down to Crowley’s Bentley and driving back to the bookshop. Crowley didn’t say anything and Aziraphale didn’t press. Instead, Zira twined his fingers in Crowley’s and gave them a reassuring squeeze. With that little motion, Crowley relaxed back into his seat and everything was all right again.
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amyscascadingtabs · 5 years
Text
deep blue but you painted me golden
alternative title: and for god's sake, protect the neck! /
amy learns about one of the downsides to staying over at her boyfriend's place.
read on ao3
Amy Santiago is a woman of her word.
Therefore it falls naturally that when her boyfriend of four and a half months switches his lumpy dumpster mattress for a brand new model, she stays true to her promise and starts sleeping at his place more.
A lot more. Definitely more than she'd been aiming for. Had it not been for her pet fish and absolute refusal to wear a clothing item with any type of stain to work, the detective is certain she'd manage a full workweek without glancing her own apartment.
To her defense, there are plenty of smart benefits to how much she's staying there. Jake's apartment is closer to work, has a surprisingly good shower, and if she manages to motivate him, sometimes he’ll even cook. It’s a tempting and clever option, perhaps even a professional one when she’s worked overtime on a demanding homicide investigation and has to be back at work early the next morning, and she repeats these reasons under her breath whenever she judges herself for having become the cheesy girlfriend who spends each and every night at her boyfriend’s place.
Though of course, she’d be lying if she said there weren’t other benefits associated with staying at the Cobblestink studio. 
Sleeping alone in her own apartment doesn’t allow her the sight of her newly awakened boyfriend moving around in the apartment looking for clean clothes with sleep-ruffled hair and nothing but boxers on, nor the heart-melting view of how he’ll hog the no-longer-shared duvet and roll himself to a sleepy blanket burrito when she gets out of bed first, not the way he’ll smile so wide without opening his eyes when she places a cup of coffee on his nightstand and a light peck to his forehead. Last but not least, staying over at Jake Peralta’s apartment gives her the opportunity to use her most efficient and doubtlessly favored techniques in the art of rousing him from sleep. She'll do this with kisses, starting as soft presses to the exposed skin near his neck before growing more serious when he hums and wraps his arms around her, one of her hands playing with his hair while the other one lightly skims his waistband. He'll react with his hands moving under and up her shirt, fondling as their lips, then tongues, meet.
The ways in which she can make her boyfriend go from deep asleep to fully awake in a few minutes are few, but they are foolproof.
As reliable a tactic and as effective a morning mood-booster as it is, there are inevitably occasions when it backfires and they’re forced to rush in order to arrive at the 99th precinct on time. Amy Santiago adores her boyfriend, but she also adores coming to work on time. She’ll be damned before she willingly arrives less than thirty minutes before the morning briefing.
This Wednesday, however, is the first time she’s been late since the god-awful morning there was a problem at the bank.
“Fifteen minutes before briefing is not late”, Jake insists when she complains to him after they’ve stepped into the elevator. “My standard, if you recall, is five.”
“I do recall”, she mumbles, adjusting a wry button on her periwinkle blouse, buttoned in all haste after the morning. “And I refuse to sink to your level of untimeliness. Me being your girlfriend doesn’t mean you get to corrupt me.”
A proud grin appears on his lips. “You’re my girlfriend.”
“I’ve been your girlfriend for four months.”
“I know”, he says with the same sunshine smile. “It’s still cool when you say it out loud.”
Dork, she wants to tell him with a chaste kiss. She leans in, touching her nose with his, but the universe is not done playing tricks with her - right as she’s about to go for it, the elevator doors fly open and the couple breaks apart in an instant. Charles high-pitched squeal remains loud enough to make the entire floor aware of their arrival.
~
Despite the near-tardy arrival and humiliating elevator-incident, Amy does manage to be productive once she gets a start on her workload for the day. She replies to four emails, adds a few points to her to-do-list for the day, and listens attentively to Terry’s briefing even as she senses Charles’ looking at her throughout. At one occasion she glares back at him, finding him with a delighted smile on his lips and tears in his eyes. Weird, Amy thinks to herself - her and Jake are not even sitting together and she's made sure her outfit and hair looks immaculate despite her getting dressed and fixing her hair in under ten minutes. Then again, Charles has a tendency to get teary-eyed whenever her and Jake as much as sit next to each other at Shaw's, so she brushes it off as a classic case of Boyle Obsession.
She grows suspicious when it doesn’t pass. Most days, the 99’s detectives will start working on their cases and whatever insignificant details are interrupting their focus will with time seem less interesting than new leads or ideas. Jake and Terry leave for a couple hours of door duty where there's been a recent string of B&E’s. Hitchcock and Scully order six different pizzas to try and settle a bet on who's more lactose intolerant, and everyone else in the room moves as far away from the pair as possible. Captain Holt instructs Gina on organizing a file cabinet and she moves three folders before returning her attention to her phone. Amy and Rosa go through witness statements from the same alluded case of drug trafficking they’ve been working for a week. Her workday is moving at its usual pace, yet she can't shake the feeling she's being watched. Every now and then Gina looks up at her with a snicker and a scrunch of her nose, and all the way from her desk, Amy can feel the intense looks Charles keeps aiming at her.
She tries to ignore it. She really does. No matter what judgeful comments Gina has to offer about her outfit or what she's done to invoke Charles obsession-high today, Amy has a job to do and she's certain they must stop at some point. First when it's been an hour of their knowing gazes getting on her nerves, does she shoot them both a warning look that appears to pass them by.
She turns page, tapping the neon yellow highlighter against the paper and trying to focus on the transcribed statement, but her curiosity has officially shifted from the case to the question of what on Earth about her is making people stare.
“Rosa?”
“Mm-hmm?”
“Do you have any idea”, she treads carefully, “why Charles and Gina are staring at me like I went to work wearing a clown mask? It’s distracting.”
Rosa doesn’t look up from her papers, her deadpan expression intact. “Nope. No idea.”
“You’re not even looking at me.”
Her friend sighs, closing the stapled stack of papers using the pen as a bookmark and looks at Amy for about three seconds before she snorts, holding her fist to her mouth to muffle a subtle bout of laughter.
“Now I have to know”, Amy insists. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on!”
“You really want to know?”
“Of course I do”, she wheezes, leaning in. “What’s making people stare? Tell me!”
“I’m no expert, but it could be the obvious hickey on your neck.” Rosa grins, touching a spot an inch below Amy’s right ear. “There.  Probably wasn’t visible when you wore your hair down, but you put your hair in a ponytail before the briefing, so…”
“What?” She reaches for her phone, opening the camera to selfie mode so she can see for herself, and sure enough, there’s a bruise. It’s a distinctly non-ambiguous one at that; a dark red-and-purple mark where she, if she thinks hard enough, can remember Jake’s mouth being earlier that morning. She doesn’t remember being aware of him sucking hard enough to leave a mark, which shocks her especially since he’s aware of how unprofessional she considers visible hickeys, but she supposes it’s plausible they were both too... in the moment, to notice.
It doesn’t matter to her now. She’s still mad at him.
“I’m going to kill Jake when I see him”, she asserts, rubbing at the bruise as if that would make it go away. “I swear. I don’t even have concealer with me.”
“Oh, don’t do that.” Rosa’s already returned most of her attention to the statements. “Captain Holt’s already complaining about how homicides are up, meaning we’ll all suffer the consequences if you do. Not cool, Amy.”
“That’s your issue with it?”
“Nah, but it’s fun to see you flustered when you realize the whole precinct can see you got laid this morning.”
“They can’t see that, technically -”
“Nope, but you didn’t deny it.” Rosa looks up again, looking smug as ever before doing some kind of wink at Gina which Amy can’t really interpret, and Amy feels her cheeks heat while she dreams of sinking through the floor.
~
Despite her fierce temptation to call up her boyfriend and yell at him immediately, she realizes it’s not the best of options. She has to be professional, which is why she takes out the ponytail and tries to keep her hair covering the bruise.
Unfortunately, the damage has already been done.
“Amy”, she hears a familiar voice when Rosa leaves for a break - it’s unclear what she’s doing, but Gina seems to have left with her - and she’s alone at her desk, leaving every chance in the world for a wild Charles Boyle to appear. “Oh, Ames.”
“Please don’t”, she mumbles. “I already know.”
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of”, the detective assures her. “The opposite. Honestly, I think you two are doing the world a favor with your lack of fear to openly display your love for one another.”
“It was an accident.”
“Nothing is ever truly an accident.” Charles has a daydreaming look in his eyes. “Not with the intimate, burning, flawless love you and Jake have. In fact, I think you should show it openly much more often. I strongly believe it would make the world a better place.”
She glares at him. “Back. Away.”
“Oh, but you know I’m right”, he shrugs, and then waltzes off with more confidence than she’s ever seen in the man.
It’s afternoon by the time Jake and Terry return. By afternoon, Amy has been given an exorbitant amount of affectionate glances aimed at her neck from Charles, a few more snickers from Gina, and even the odd glance from a passing-by beat cop who must've seen the bruise peeking through her hair. Therefore, when the familiar figure pops down in the chair at the desk across from hers and is all gleeful smiles the moment he sees her, Amy’s rightfully annoyed. Her being teased is his fault and she's furious.
“So I just solved a pretty epic case on my own”, he brags, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back. “Well, pretty much solved. Pretty much on my own. Terry helped, and we’re not totally-totally done yet, but whatever. You impressed by me?”
She looks up at him with reluctance, meeting those coffee-colored eyes immune to seeing the mess on his own desk but so capable of seeing through her. His hair is messier now than this morning, and when she doesn't reply to his question immediately he leans forward to put his elbows on his desk, scrunching his nose and putting his fists under his chin to grab her attention.
It's utterly adorable. She wouldn't admit it publicly and doesn’t either, remaining focused on her computer screen instead, but seeing him again after a few hours makes her want to forgive him in an instant.
“That's great, Jake.”
He narrows his eyes at her short response. “Is something up?”
“Meet me in the evidence room in five”, she whispers, giving no further explanation. Jake gives her a curious look, as if he’s not sure whether she’s going to make out with him or yell at him based on the poker-face she’s working hard to maintain. To be fair - when he smiles at her in that specific, adoring way, Amy’s not sure either.
~
The way he swoops in and checks the door behind him before walking up to where she’s standing reminds her of their first real kiss. Although this room is also the location of them startling and consequently killing a man with a genetic heart condition, not to mention a part of her workplace where she’s spent enough hours for it to feel unremarkable and habitual, it’s always, in a way, going to be their room. She wonders if he’s thinking the same thing.
“Hey there.” He keeps his hands in his jean pockets as he leans close enough to peck her lips. “Did you want to talk about something? Or simply have a moment in peace with your unbelievably hot, super-sexy boyfriend? Remember”, he says with a raise of his eyebrows. “As we once so tragically discovered, they do have cameras here. “
Amy rolls her eyes, shaking her head at his jokes and how desperately they make her want to give into laughter, then pulls her hair aside to point a demonstrative index finger at the hickey. “What in the world, Jake Peralta, is this?”
“What? Oh, ohhh. I see.” He looks down at the floor, blushing as he rubs one hand along his neck to adjust the collar of his flannel. “Shit, Ames. I’m sorry.”
“You should be”, she mutters with a pained grimace. “Gina’s been laughing at me all day, and Charles is over the moon, which is nearly as distracting.”
“I didn’t even notice it‍.”
“Yeah, well, neither did I before I put my hair up and everyone started teasing me. Either way -”, she puts a finger to his chest, “it’s your fault.”
He grins, running a hand through his hair before holding hers with it, their fingers intertwined against his heartbeat. “I’ll make it up to you?”
“You better.”
“If it matters, I think it’s pretty cute.”
“Shut up.”
“Hot too, for that matter.”
“Shut. Up”, Amy wheezes, though this time partly out of frustration over the effect his faked innocent smile has on her, how looking at him so close when it’s noone but them (and a few cameras) still makes her legs a little shaky, pulse a little higher.
She squeezes his hand tighter, and because she’s not in heels today, she stands up on the tip of her toes when she kisses him. His hands rest on her upper back, holding her as she lets herself melt into him for a couple seconds, giving his lip a light bite to remind him he’s not forgiven. It’s unclear whether it serves his purpose, because he just smiles against her lips and technically she’s still annoyed with him but he’s kissing her like that and her annoyance can wait.
First when she realizes how she’s lifting one of her legs, her knee moving towards his waist, and how her hands are tempted to wander strictly non-work-appropriate places, does she make the agonizing decision of pulling away and separating them. They’re almost panting as they do, taking deep breaths to get themselves back to reality.
“So”, he mumbles, chuckling lightly. “I take it I’m forgiven?”
“Oh, no. I’ll get my revenge.”
“Somehow I don’t doubt you on that.”
She does get her revenge a few days later. Amy Santiago’s a woman of her word, after all.
(She wouldn't admit it out loud, but it's totally worth another day of Charles giving them both lovesick glares for hours on end.)
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Text
Alcoholics Anonymous - Chapter Two
      His name was Murdoc.
       "I'm not here willingly, I won't speak willingly. I was told I didn't have to say anything as long as I listened, and I plan on doing exactly that."
       He was 49 years old that Spring.
       "You don't have to speak if you don't want to, Murdoc, there are people here who feel the same way. I just figured a little encouragement wouldn't hurt, huh?"
      And just as secretive as I was minus the aggression.
       "Great. Then I'll politely decline."
       He was just as stubborn as I could be as well, which made up for the large difference in emotions we chose to express.
       Defeated, Phoebe sighed and moved onward to the man who sat next to him. I found Murdoc’s behaviour and humour absolutely hilarious and inevitably interesting. I hadn't laughed as much those past weeks he'd been attending the program in years. Every night I go to bed and keep myself up remembering his wise remarks and creative responses he had for the counsellor or other attendees. Nothing negative, just entertaining and unique perks about him making the whole therapy process more enjoyable. He didn't make dark jokes about alcohol but little puns here and there to make people smile. At the beginning of the session he warmed up his attitude and by the end, he'd brightened everybody's day. His changes in moods fascinated me, too. He wasn't always that strangely happy guy people were met with first. He was the clown of the session until he was meant to talk about his issues, then he'd get a little grouchy and agitated. That was understandable, so I tried not to think about it so much and make a big deal about him for acting in a very natural way like I'm doing right now. I found it tough to avoid however, naturally wondering what brought him to group therapy in the first place.
       "How was your weekend, (Y/N)?" I looked up from my hands on my lap, my eyes darting up to Phoebe at the sound of my name.
       "I'm sorry?"
       "How was your weekend?" Phoebe repeated with a patient smile.
       I found myself stuttering. "Boring, I guess," I answered.
       "How so?"
       I'm not opening up, I told myself. I'm not ready yet. "I just . . . didn't do anything."
       "Is that all?"
       I sat silent, fiddling with my fingers. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to speak just a little more. "There's . . . not really any point of trying to get out of bed and doing nothing right when you can get drunk again. That way people won't set any expectations of you anymore." It wasn't the best of messages to send out there but it was all I could say at the moment. I couldn't even bring myself to apologize to the others who tried so hard to live without alcohol for acting so negative. I was just a party pooper.
       I heard chuckling from the other side of the room and I looked up from my lap. Murdoc let his head fall into the palm of his hand and smirked, trying to stop himself from laughing. "You got that right, lass," he mumbled. He looked back up at me and I felt myself smile. Making him laugh made me feel a little better, I'm not gonna lie.
       "What did you end up doing this weekend?" Phoebe asked.
       "I've been sober for 65 days, I didn't wanna give up . . ."
       "Staying away from the alcohol . . . how did it make you feel?"
       "Uhh . . ." I looked away from Phoebe and bit my lip.
       "Or maybe a better question is, looking back at it, how does it make you feel that you held on to your goal?"
       "I feel . . . like I don't wanna talk about feelings?" I felt Murdoc's eyes on me and glanced back in his direction, watching another smirk craft his face into a kind of expression I hadn't seen before. This time it felt more genuine. All the other times he made jokes he wore a sort of smug grin, followed by some strange quacking noise. This time it didn't look smug, it looked understanding and authentic.
       "Well, that's okay, (Y/N)," Phoebe accepted.
       "At least you're talking more, that's progress," I heard the man beside me comment. I, as well as a few others, laughed in response and soon enough, we left the room for the gymnasium. The health clinic held the Boys and Girls Club every Wednesday night and every three to four weeks we got the chance to use it for us adults to express ourselves through art. I was wondering what Murdoc would do; he didn't seem like the artistic type. He looked like he road stolen motorcycles and spent his free time in his apartment doing drugs. Not that I was judging, I was an alcoholic myself, so that wouldn't be fair. I didn't mean it as an insult either - there's nothing wrong with doing those things (as long as you pay for the motorcycle eventually) and smoking weed in your apartment. I just felt like Murdoc’s life outside of therapy could’ve been anything; endless possibilities to discover if he let me. I think I'm rambling again.
       "Well, during this crafting session, I want everybody to craft a card for somebody in the group. I want you to give them a positive message about something, whether it's some encouragement or any positive thought you've had about them," Phoebe said, lifting the plastic containers of coloured paper and writing utensils out from under the table. I turned in direction of Murdoc who stood a metre away from the rest of us. This was my chance to finally thank him. I smiled to myself at the thought of it and immediately began to craft.
       "Dear Murdoc,        I'm not sure if you remember but I'm the girl you pulled away from the traffic about four weeks ago. Thank you for saving my dumbass from being roadkill. I wish I could make it up to you."
       From across the room, I noticed he picked up a pencil and paper, but never actually wrote anything down. It took twenty minutes to create a simple yet brightly coloured card showing my appreciation and then another ten to gain the courage to get up and walk over to him. I ambled my way across the gymnasium to the table he sat at, surprised he was sitting alone. He was liked greatly by the others in our session and I could see he had already received three cards, probably complimenting his wild personality and enjoyable humour. I didn't want to criticize him for sitting alone either; everybody needs a little alone time. I stood in front of him, unsure of how to make my presence acknowledged. He wasn't looking up at me so I assumed he didn't know I was there. Without a second thought, I stuck the card out closer to his face and, slightly startled, he backed up, looking up at me with an odd expression. Out of nervousness, I dropped it and pulled away.
       "What's this?" he asked, gently picking it up and observing the front.
       "I-it's a thank you card." I heard my voice shake and felt my pulse in my throat as he opened it up. "You ran off so quickly I never got the chance to say anything."
       "Oh, sorry," he chuckled, looking back up at me. He took one last glance at the card before placing it down and tapping it lightly with his fingers.
       "It's okay, it's not your fault. I'm sure you were busy. In fact, I'm sorry," I laughed anxiously.
       Murdoc watched me carefully as if I was some strange unpredictable animal. "What'd you do?"
       "For startling you."
       "Oh, it's alright, no harm done," he said, using his hands to act out his sentences. I stood for a few seconds, nodding and tapping my foot awkwardly. He did the same but shook his head, chuckling and smiling. Did my discomfort and uncertainty amuse him? I was about to stop the unnecessary embarrassment by waving and leaving but he cleared his throat, laying his arm out on the chair next to him. "Wanna take a seat?"
       I looked up at him and smiled, "Yeah, sure!" As I sat down he smirked and stared down at his empty card, twisting his lips in thought. His pencil twirled in between his fingers as he hopelessly thought about what to do. "Who do you think you'll give your card to?"
       He shrugged, "No idea. I don't know if you've noticed but I don't really talk to anyone or do anything here aside from making stupid jokes."
       "Are you secretly shy?" I teased, feeling good about the conversation.
       He shook his head, his smile glued to his face. "Nah . . . Normally I'm talkative and sometimes a little obnoxious too, while I'm at it."
       "What's changing that part of you?" I pushed with curiosity.
       "Well, I guess I wasn't expecting to see somebody from outside of therapy inside," he explained, turning to me.
       I lifted my arms onto the table, resting my chin on the backs on my hands as I intertwined my fingers. I leaned in a little close, not realizing what I was doing. "What, do you have different behaviours for certain scenarios?"
       "I'd prefer to save my gentleman act for those who don't know me," he opened up, keeping his eyes attached to mine.
       "Why's that? Don't like people to get past your grumpy castle walls?" I joked.
       I officially made Murdoc laugh now. A wholesome exhale of joy fell from his lips and he looked the opposite way for a second. He looked back to me, "Let's leave those questions for Phoebe to ask."
       I backed up and let my arms fall from the table, wrapping them around myself as I enjoyed my time in the company of this man. "If you say so, Oscar the Grouch."
       We kept quiet for a minute and I looked around the gymnasium contently as I heard him beginning his writing. "How long have you been here?"
       "Hm?" I turned my head to him once more. "Here? For a while now, about eight or nine months, maybe. In general, I've been referred to multiple places for the past ten years."
       "Ten years?" Murdoc questioned, lifting his gaze up at me from the card beneath him.
       "Yeah . . . It's been quite the journey."
       "I can imagine. I'm impressed," he commented.
       I furrowed my brows, confused. "What's impressive?"
       "Well, a lot of people don't make it past five years of being an alcoholic before they're long gone, and you've been through this since your twenties I'm assuming?"
       "I guess, but I'm sure others have it worse," I told him and convinced myself.
       "Oh, come on, don't be like that," Murdoc encouraged. "Your story is just as important as anybody else's."
       "What about you? How long have you been doing this?"
       He sighed, "Well, as I said before, I'm here against my will." I looked at him, beginning to frown. He really didn't like it there, did he? Even if he looked like he was having fun he was just passing the time by laughing off how serious of a problem his alcoholism really was. And to be honest, I related to him from time to time. "Being in the position I'm in, group therapy alone isn't going to heal me, and my friends know that, but . . . if it makes them feel better that I'm here, I'll tolerate it until they realize how much of a lost cause I am," he laughed. He continued to write in his card and I observed him with sorrowful eyes.
       "I'm sure if you keep going you'll find a light at the end of the tunnel."
       Murdoc shook his head and his smile seemed to fade away. "I can't even bring myself to feel like I deserve it, honestly."
       "Help?"
       He nodded and sighed. "Ah, well. That's the way the cookie crumbles sometimes," he said, grabbing a black pencil crayon and beginning to draw.
       "It doesn't have to be that way, though. You don't seem like that bad of a person, Murdoc. I know we don't know each other, but I think you're a pretty cool person."
       Murdoc flickered his eyes up as if in realization. He turned to me and blinked a few times before breathing in deeply and leaning back in his chair. "Thanks, lass," he mumbled. "I mean that. Thank you," he reassured, looking back at me. "That's nice of you to say."
       I nodded, "Yeah, of course. Ever since you came therapy's changed for the better." He smiled at me and I felt myself smile back.
       "Alright, it's probably best we start putting everything away," Phoebe directed from across the gymnasium. Just like the simulations of a kindergarten class, everyone handed what they had left of their cards away and began to clean up. Murdoc finished writing what he had left and picked up the supplies from his table. I stood up too, his body movements guiding mine. With one hand he held his items and in the other, he stuck out the card in front of me. I stared at it, wondering if he was handing it to me.
       I looked up at him to be sure and he cocked his eyebrows, smiling, "You gonna take it?" As I reached out and took it he chuckled and began to walk away from me. "See you next week, (Y/N)."
       I watched him put away his things and leave through the gymnasium door as I stood, still processing what had happened. I was so ecstatic, my face flushed red, I couldn't believe he remembered my name! It sounded stupid but just the fact he offered me a seat and was opening up to me meant the world. I nearly forgot the card was in my hand, nearly dropping it from daydreaming. I blinked away my distracting thoughts and left the building, saying goodbye to Phoebe and the lady at the front desk on my way. As I left I pulled the card up and gazed at the front. It was a simple drawing of the okay hand symbol poorly shaded with a black coloured pencil.
       "Dear (Y/N),        You're very welcome. Thank you for the nice conversation, I haven't had one of those in a while. You seem like a pretty cool person as well, I hope you engage in more near-death experiences I can save you from, haha."
       I smiled and closed the card, keeping it close to me as I walked home.
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wtnvwritings · 5 years
Text
Meeting Your Mate
AO3 Version
Relationship: Kevin/Reader
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 2.4k
Note: This is part of my Escape Strex AU, and this was also a commission for @matronofthevoid!
Summary: All seems normal in Night Vale, until a sudden sandstorm overtakes the town. While Cecil is out trying to get first-hand information and updates, Kevin is left to man the studio, reporting on all the mysterious portals popping up and so-called 'doubles' walking out of them.
But then he meets someone familiar--someone he had been told was dead:
You.
---
Lights twinkling above our high above our heads in the dark night sky. Are they stars, or are they government-funded observation planes making sure that you’ve not forgotten to brush your teeth that night?
Either way, please make sure you report to city hall tomorrow morning for reconditioning after hearing this,
Welcome to Night Vale.
[Intro Music Plays]
Good morning Night Vale, it’s Cecil! Or, well, it would be Cecil, if he wasn’t currently out of the studio, and it would be a good morning if we weren’t already under the terrible threat of a sandstorm coming in from the west.
If you can't already tell from the sound of my voice, it’s Kevin, your local radio co-host, bringing you all of the latest news and updates to this happy little town of ours.
...Oh, by the way, there’s a sandstorm coming in!
City Counsel has declared an emergency, in fact, so please make sure that all of you seek shelter from the wind and the sand--preferably somewhere with four walls and a roof. Though I know that some of you are very fond of your dugout holes, Night Vale, it simply won’t do to keep you safe!
I’ve been told that the sandstorm will be arriving on the edge of Night Vale in just a couple minutes! I would think that the City Counsel is apologetic about the short-notice warning, but I can’t dare assume anything from them--we all know what happened to the last person who assumed they wanted a medium fry from the local burger joint, after all--but never fear! Cecil himself is working diligently to get a quote, though I hope that he isn’t caught out in this storm as well.
More to report on the sandstorm whenever it gets here--I mean, we can’t rush nature, amiright?
Some wonderful news for all you sports fans out there: baseball season has finally arrived in Night Vale! This Saturday is the minor league opening game for the Night Vale Spider Wolves. They’ll be taking on bitter rivals, the Desert Bluffs Sunbeams.
I’m supposed to say that it will be an exciting, evenly-matched game, but we all know that our very own Spider Wolves won’t have any issues taking on the Sunbeams, especially after we broke the news of their funding getting cut last year.
But who cares? The Sunbeams are just not exciting , or, as Cecil likes to say in a not-as-kind way, ‘ terrible ’. But you didn’t hear that from me Night Vale, because I’m simply reporting on the facts!
And now for traffic.
It seems that the sandstorm has finally reached the highway, Night Vale, and it’s causing all sorts of issues for drivers on the roadway. I’m getting reports of wind speeds as high as--well, on the paper it says ‘unfathomable speeds unlike any ever recorded’ but I’m certain one of the meteorologists just assumed we couldn’t handle the raw numbers. Either way, travelers are advised to stay off the road and seek shelter wherever it can be found.
...There seems to be something far more troubling to the sandstorm, listeners. I am receiving this information right now from Intern Dana--she is handing me the folder, and I am opening it….reading the summary…..taking it all in and….oh, Dana? I believe you had a typo right there, yes, ‘lack of time or space’ should be ‘lack of time AND space’ considering the foreboding context clues by Lerry Leroy.
[Sounds of shuffling papers]
It would seem that portals are opening up across town, dear listeners. From out of these portals walks out people who seem like people we know, but are most assuredly not the people we know. They may look similar, but I am getting reports that these people, dare I say doubles , have brought multiple people to violence.
Please do not fight your double!
We can’t be sure what sorts of consequences there are for fighting--and possibly killing!--your double is, but I am certain it can be nothing good. After all, we remember what happened last month when time and existence came to a stop? Surely you remember that?
Let’s not repeat that unfortunate, uncountable number of repeated evenings, shall we Night Vale?
Now, onto financial news.
You are lost in a sea of sand. You look to the west and see the sun setting in the distance, it’s light slowly hiding behind the endless dunes. There is nowhere to go. Nobody else around you. You are lost.
You stare into the setting sun for what feels like hours, and soon it seems that the sun isn’t really setting at all--has it ever moved? Has anything ever truly moved? Have you moved? Are you moving right now?
Are you even breathing right now?
That has been financial news.
[More sounds of shuffling papers]
Listeners, that sandstorm is starting to get a little...frightening. I know that’s a strong word, like ‘government surveillance’ and ‘wheat’, but I simply cannot find any other word to properly describe what is going on just outside the radio station.
Across Night Vale, it seems dozens upon dozens of people--doubles--have made their way through those mysterious portals. Though some have done best to make peace with their doubles, others have either not heard or ignored my warning and have taken to battle with them.
Please, Night Vale, do not fight your doubles!
Cecil, our normal radio host, has just sent me a direct announcement from our own Mayor Pamela Winchell.
“Please return to your homes immediately!” Mayor Winchell said, her eyes as if wild with an emotion we can not truly comprehend. “I am declaring a state of emergency; if anyone is outside, return to your homes or else risk dematerialization, non-existence and some rather serious sand-burns.”
A second announcement, shortly after, says that she was lying and that “you shouldn’t listen to her. She’s not the real mayor! I am!”
Cecil wrote that, at such point, he was joined by a second Mayor Winchell, who quickly became violent with the first.
A third announcement followed between Mayor Pamela Winchell and the other Mayor Pamela Winchell, requesting that we “give me the microphone and get away from the podium! This is my announcement, you replicant clown!”
Unfortunately, our radio host could not provide much more information, as he was dragged into the fight between the two Mayor Winchells. It is good to know at least that he is safe--I hope that all of you are safe right now, Night Vale, I--
[Extended silence]
Listeners?
I...I see a portal. Night Vale, I see a portal right now, here in this very studio. It is...small, or at least smaller than what I expected it to be--but it is exactly like you expected to be. It’s...swirling, ominously across the room, on the wall opposite of where I am set up so that you all can hear my voice.
It’s...just there. I am not sure if I should be afraid or not, but...for some reason the portal feels...calming?
It’s just sitting there, listeners. Should I approach it? I mean, as any good journalist of Night Vale, being prepared for the unknown is a skill we all learn early in our lives--though the fear of the unknown often quickly comes after that when we all reach the age of seven so I suppose it doesn’t matter in the end.
I am...watching it shimmer. The portal is growing, taking up the entirety of the wall just across from me. I can make out the faintest image within the portal, listeners, and…
...It looks like...Night Vale? No, no it doesn’t, it looks….It looks nothing like Night Vale. There is a town through the portal, and it looks bright--so bright. Too bright .
Oh.
Oh.
I-
[Small sounds of shuffling]
It looks like ...like…
Like Desert Bluffs.
I cannot begin to fathom this, Night Vale, but the portals we are seeing--the people coming through them, the ones we believe are our doubles…
Are they all from Desert Bluffs?
You may all know my…. history with that town, my...change of loyalty, to this wondrous little hamlet of ours. If there is anyone here who can identify Desert Bluffs, it would surely be me--and what I see right now, through the portal, is more assuredly that very town.
That town .
I dare to think that perhaps these people coming through the portals, the ones we assume are our doubles, I think instead they might be-
[Near-silent gasp of breath]
...My...my mate…?
Listeners, I apologize for being so confusing. You must understand that these portals--these... things are causing not just your normal tears into time and space--we deal with those every second Wednesday of the month, after all. What I mean is, I…
I’m looking right at the person I had long thought, until this very moment, was dead.
But...you aren’t dead, are you?
I’m talking to my mate of course, listeners--you see, when I escap-... left Desert Bluffs, I had been...waiting for someone. Someone very important to me. For those of you who know who and what I am, you will surely understand the magnitude of the situation I was faced with.
For people like me and Cecil, finding our mate is...the most important thing in our world. Cecil found Carlos and I...I had waited for many years. Many, many years indeed.
[Shuffling noises, the sound of a chair being pushed back]
And...here you are?
How...is that even possible? I thought you were dead--you...you were dead! I was told so. I was…told I’d never see you, never find you...you weren’t…
...Oh?
...Oh.
I see.
You were...waiting for me. In Desert Bluffs. But where? Where were you?
Hiding? No?
Hidden?
Hidden away? But why would you try to hide yourself from m-
Oh.
[Extended silence]
...I see now.
They were hiding you from me.
How long have you been there, at Desert Bluffs?
[Muffled sound of an answer]
I...I can’t imagine waiting that long, except that I can, I have also waited so long--too long--and now you’re...you're right here!
You’re here!
You are standing here in front of me--my mate, listeners--and you are...absolutely beautiful.
No, no it’s alright, don’t mind the scars, love, I have them too--we both have them. Don’t be ashamed--you’re beautiful in all the ways you are right now. I am just...overwhelmed. I was told that I would never meet you, that you were…
...that you were dead.
But they were hiding you from me.
They were...hiding you...from me...
Hi̶̲̚d̸̗̓i̸̼͆n̵͎̈g̴̖͂ ̶͍͆y̶͓͗o̶̯͊ǔ̵̩.̵̻.̵̦̉.̶̙̀.f̷̼͙͖͖̿̇̓̒̅̃͗͆̕r̷͔͔̻͔̀̓̽̔̃̈͆̏̕ȍ̸̰̗̤͉̗͇͜m̴͕͉̦͊̋̆̏̐̉͊̚ ̵̟͖̠̗͐͂̑͋̏̇̎m̷̢͚͐͗̈͒̐͘̚̕ẻ̴̘͕̿̂̐̍̒͐̅͘͘…
I̶̜̋'̶̣͗l̴̟̅l̵̟̑ ̸̫̏h̶̞̋a̷̟̚v̴̰͒e̵̥̿ ̸̺͒t̶̘̾o̸̍ͅ.̸̧̾.̴̜͊.̴̡̃p̶͉̈a̸̭̐ẙ̴̯ ̶̤͒t̸̖̍ḩ̷̉e̶̱̋m̴͕̈́ ̶̰̊á̴͓ ̸̽ͅḻ̷͐i̶̞͘t̸̻̑t̸̖̀l̴̩͠e̴̳̽ ̵̱̂v̸̢̓i̷̮͛s̴͖͘i̶̜͗t̴̫͠.̷̺͝.̷̖̊.̴̥̍ṛ̴͝i̶̡̊ģ̶̏h̶̙͒t̴͙́?̶̫̄
[Sound from the radio shorts out, then turns to white noise for several seconds]
...
[Extended silence]
...
[Sound of the microphone being picked up]
...
Listeners? Are you still there? Night Vale?
If you are still there, this is Cecil, your regular radio host--I’ve returned from my journey to get the front-line news of the sandstorm, since our Intern Dana has been quite busy trying to keep our social media updated with all the relevant outages and traffic warnings. How long has the radio been silent?
Where is...Kevin?
Where is anyone, in fact?
I am standing here in the middle of the recording room, but across from me is a portal and a-
Oh. Hello there! I am sorry, I didn’t see you--uh, I don’t think I recognize you at all. Do I uh, know you?
What?
...Listeners, the person standing in the room with me says that they are…
...Kevin’s mate?
Well, that’s not something I expected to hear. I mean, there’s a lot of things I never expect to hear--none of us are. The news of a baby, the death of a loved one, the securing of a new job, the need to move to a new state….
I mean, we really--Oh!
Listeners, I’m seeing someone coming through the portal now--I can make out the vague shape of their body...they’re stepping closer, the dark silhouette shimmering against what I can only assume is the surface of the portal itself…
Kevin? What in the world are you doing going through the portal? Where...were you? I said in my press report that it wasn’t a smart idea to-
...why...are you...covered in blood?
[Sound of a muffled answer]
Ah. I uh, suppose that explains the lovely person standing over here, does it? From Desert Bluffs? I suppose that you...ah, well, I’ll spare our listeners on the silly little details of your encounter-er-visit over there, I’m sure they don’t want to hear all of that anyway.
In fact, I think they would rather hear the update that the sandstorm is finally passing! That’s right Night Vale, we have survived yet another horrific, unfathomable beast of nature, and have come out 100% alright--well, minus the millions of dollars worth in property damage, including several fields worth of corn grown by John Peters, you know, the farmer?
Despite the major damages though, there seem to be no deaths and not a single accountable injury--not even any dematerialization either! I am proud to say that Night Vale, we again have kept ourselves safe from harm and have weathered through yet another disaster--and I hope, nay, I pray that you had considered carefully my words of warning.
I hope you did not hurt or kill your double.
But other than that, it seems that we have reached the end of our segment, so I will turn it back to Kevin to-
Oh?
What’s that?
...Well, what wonderful news, Night Vale! It would seem that we not only didn’t lose a single person to the sandstorm, but in fact gained a new member of our little town! Let me be the first to say how happy I am for you, Kevin, what luck you have to finally meet your beloved mate--you can take them back to the apartment to get them settled, if you like.
We’ll get them taken care of just like we did for you.
[Muffled sounds of conversation, as if a hand is over the microphone]
So uh, that is the end of this segment, Night Vale! Tune in next for the sound of deep contemplation, and the bittersweet love of two people who had long thought they would never meet, but are finally able to be with one another.
Goodnight, Night Vale,
Goodnight.
39 notes · View notes
eurasiian · 5 years
Text
Prussia x Teenage!Reader (incipient)
Tumblr media
Summary: Your mother and father split when you were a young girl and ever since that day you’ve been hoping your family could be returned to its former glory. Every chance you got you scared of any suitor for your mother. They were no match for you! Not until him...
“Cause we hate what you do, and we hate your whole crew so please don’t stay in touch.”
Chapter one : Challenge accepted (Wednesday)
Warnings : Slightly suggestive themes (legal age), mild swearing, mentions of divorce
You were lying sideways on your bed, feet dangling off the edge whilst your head just managed to stay level on the mattress. It wouldn't be so comfortable if it was the other way around. Using your arms, you held them straight above your face, hands tightly clasped around the edges of your new IPhone. My dads honestly the best. There's no way my mum could have afforded this. You thought with a tiny smile. The thought not being spiteful, spoil nor selfish. Okay maybe a little bit spoilt...
A few years ago when you were around the age of 10, your parents had split up. It came to a shock to everyone. There were no signs to suggest anything was wrong, but as you grew older, you concluded that they probably pretended so it wouldn't upset you; If that was the case, they had failed. After all, it was heart breaking when two people you loved so much, failed to love each other back. It was on that day you realized that devastating truth. After that, they couldn't even be in the same room as each other. Yelling and screaming down each other's throat's. Honestly, to a child it was terrifying. But again, as you grew older, you realized that some things couldn't stay hidden forever.
Rewinding back to your momentary tiny smile - it wasn't because you were proud your father could make more money then your mother or anything of the sort. The truth is, you had lived with your mother after your father had moved to Turkey with his brother, your uncle. He told you after the divorce things didn't feel right; That he needed a new start. It wasn't the worst thing to ever happen to you. He always made an effort to send gifts and letters, letting you know he missed you greatly and that he would come and visit sometime soon. It filled a gaping hole in your heart just knowing he still cared enough to keep in contact. One day, when you were older, you were going to visit him.
Meanwhile, being with your mother was a blast. You had always enjoyed being with her. To name a few traits of hers. She was fun, carefree, loving, kind, enthusiastic, motivational and most importantly. Eccentric. You wouldn't mind admitting it to anyone you had the best mother in the world. Most things she said were random, and unfortunately for you she had a nasty habit or reminding you how she "brought you into this world".
Her name was Joyce Williams, and you were proudly named (Name) Williams.
Using a finger to click onto Facebook. You smiled seeing your best friend had messaged you. Clicking on his icon - which by the way was his short self standing in front of his older blond cousin, who angrily tried to shove him out the way whilst he grinned brightly - you giggled. His name was Peter, Peter Kirkland, dorky Peter. Neither of you were very cool, but you had each other and that's all that mattered.
Facebook messenger
[Peter Kirkland] created a group chat
[Peter Kirkland] added you to the group chat
[Peter Kirkland] added [Wendy Kirkland] to the group chat
[Peter Kirkland] added [Erland Oxenstierna]
[Peter Kirkland] named the group chat "The four horsemen”
Peter Kirkland : What's up guys!
[Erland Oxenstierna] changed [Peter Kirklands] name to [Pissy Peter]
[Ernald Oxenstierna] left the group
Sniggering childishly, your eyes gently rolled backwards. Your friends were a colorful bunch to say the least. Ernald Oxenstierna was a hot headed Swedish child, who adored social media, yet hated socializing. He claimed that he wasn't friends with any of you, but you knew that wasn't the case considering he'd always hang out with you all at school and whenever his birthday rolled around, he'd always ask you three to sleep round his. His older brother’s boyfriend made the best cookies... 
Peter, as you had already mentioned, was dorky as hell. He'd be the first to crack stupid jokes out of the blue, and had a huge fetish for power rangers that you would never completely understand. Peter was always the one to arrange meet ups outside of birthdays, and was incredibly friendly. 
Wendy was the most mature out of all four of you, she wasn't as much of a geek but she did join in when necessary. Besides, you found it made for a fun dynamic. Somehow, Peter and Wendy were both related. They had a huge family which was very well known throughout the town you lived in. You knew Peter’s older cousin Arthur had three older brothers that you had met once or twice, and then they had a half younger brother who you think was the older brother to Wendy? Yes, that was it. Right?
Pissy Peter : We'll that wasn't very nice...
Wendy Kirkland : What do you want Peter?
Pissy Peter : *Smiley face with hearts for eyes* Sleep over at mine on Friday?
You : Peter stop flirting with your step-cousin. And yes, sleep over sounds good. *Laughing face*
Pissy Peter : Nooo wrong Emoji!!! *Crying face*
Pissy Peter added Ernald Oxenstierna to the group chat "the four horsemen”
Ernald Oxenstierna : What. Do. You. Want?
Pissy Peter : Sleep over at mine on Friday?
Ernald Oxenstierna : If the others are then sure. But I'm not spending time alone with you. You’re annoying and I fear if I sleep round at yours then your older cousin will food poison me again.
Pissy Peter : Well (Name's) coming so I'll take that as a yes?
Ernald Oxenstierna : Fine.
Wendy Kirkland : I'll come to. It sounds like fun. *Paint brush emoji* For art class I have to do some portraits of some people, so I'll try to do some drawings of you guys if you don't mind?
Pissy Peter : Sure!
[Ernald Oxenstierna] changed [Wendy Kirklands] nickname to [Sketchers]
[Ernald Oxenstierna]
changed your nickname to [Tango ice blast]
[Tango ice blast] changed Ernald Oxenstiernas name to [Baby bell]
Baby Bell : Fair enough
Letting out a snigger you sat up on your bed and smiled. You really did love your friends, and with the weekend rolling around it only rose up your excitement. Deciding it might be a good idea to tell your mother about your sleep over at Peters on Friday, you rolled over until you were on the edge of your bed and jumped upwards. Landing 'gracefully' on your feet. Today was a Wednesday, and your school was having a teacher training day so you got the day off.
Your mother was a beautiful women who was independent and brave. After your father left she got a job as a nurse. Granted, the money she made was little hence she couldn't buy you the kind of stuff your father could. However it was enough to support both yourself and her financially and she was a very career driven women. You admired it. At the moment, you had on some green pajama shorts and a red hoodie that had Santa clause adorned with a bright smile on the front. It wasn't Christmas presently, but it was the comfiest hoodie you owned. On your feet your socks were a bright yellow. You looked like a clown if that clown was told he would need to look as ridiculous as he usually did but instead dressed in pajamas and stupid ass socks. At least my feet aren’t big, you chuckled as you made it to the last step. You then paused and glanced down. Well...
"(Name). Is that you?" Hearing your mothers voice you were drawn out of your trance. "Can you come here quickly? There's um, something - hehe. Someone I want you to meet~" Her voice sounded...extra girly. As if there was someone she wanted to sound somewhat sexy for? It made you cringe. Maybe it was her boss? And she was trying to suck up to him for a raise or something? That sounded plausible (if only). After all it was hard to be a single mother raising a child alone with the support of a migrating ex-husband.
"Uh yeh. Sure." Constantly your mother would scold you for saying "yeh" almost all the time. It was a bad habit, but it was better then the children at your school who would constantly say "man" or "dude".
Your stairs were attached to a hallway that went on straight. At the end of it was the living room, but halfway was a small arch way which led into your kitchen. Since your mother sounded pretty far away you deciphered she was in the living room. Considering the floor was made of wood, you ran part way before sliding inside said room. Doing a small stumble over the carpeted flooring you managed to save your footing last minuet and did a cool spin. You grinned at your awesomeness and peered curiously over to your mother. 
The longer you started at her, you noticed someone else sitting beside her. Legs open obnoxiously as his arms draped around her shoulders. A smirk twitched over onto his lips, one that seemed to be a mix of cockiness, ignorance and excitement? You however contrasted his emotions, as you were mixed with feelings of anger, fury and denial. No way was this man, sitting so casually with YOUR mother. They couldn't possibly be anything more then friends. Just friends.
"(Name). This is my uh...friend Gilbert." Ah thank god. See (Name). You just work yourself up over nothing. You told yourself, relived before the man spoke up. His eyes were a beady red, a sign of pure evil. And his skin complexion was just as pale as his white hair.
"Friends? I can say that we're a little more then that Joyce~" he teased.
"Gilbert that's my daughter please behave yourself." Your mother begged back in a tone that could almost be considered playful. After cooing over the stranger for another few seconds, she stood to her feet. "I'm going to go make us some juice. You two chat and get to know each other okay?" You and this so called Gilbert watched as your mother left. Your eyes on her back, his slightly lower. For a few seconds, you both stared at the door way before he turned his attention to you.
"So uh Frau, what year are you -"
"I won't allow her to date you." Taken back by your sudden snappy nature, he shut his mouth for a slight second before opening it again. His face reading pure mischief as he stood to his feet.
"Oh really?~" he laughed. It was no doubt the worst laugh you had ever heard. Who sounds like a mutated bird when they laugh anyways? "Because. I'm pretty sure we're close to what you kids would call dating. What's the word uh slinking?" He seemed genuinely confused, and with a monotone face you replied.
"Linking?"
"That's it!..." Silence. "Ha. I'm cool." Groaning for maybe a few seconds more then you should of, your neck flew backwards and you cried out.
"MooooOOOOMMMM!" Whilst slowly walking away from him and into the kitchen where you knew she'd be. Of course, hearing your whines made her sigh. Whenever she brought home someone she liked, you would either scare them away or convince her they weren't good enough to be with her. Soon she realized that she wanted someone to love her, and you too. Your father wasn't around anymore. You both needed a man around the house as much as you denied it. By the time you arrived at the arch way, she was turned to face it with her back leaning against the counter. Three cups behind her.
"No."
"WhhhhhHHYYYYY?" At your constant whining, she lightly sighed yet again and sent a tiring smile in your direction. She knew that you hoped Gilbert would see how much of a pain you were and then leave you and her alone. Unfortunately for you she knew two things. One, she had already warned him about you prior to this meeting. Two, Gilbert was almost as childlike as you.
"If you give him a chance. He's actually very nice (Name)." She told you, walking forward and using her finger to boop your noes. "Now. You wouldn't want to seem rude would you?" She hummed. Sending you a look which read "Bitch I raised you choose your words carefully" it made you smirk ever so slightly since she would never say anything like that to you. But the expression was rather priceless.
"I don't care if it's him in all honestly -"
"I pushed you out from my vagina -" she began loudly. Causing your eyes to widen and hands to clamp over your ears in an attempt to quieten her.
"Ew stop!" However, she became even louder at this point.
"And I tolerated you whilst you cried every single day and night! Suck it up!" From the other room, you could practically hear this spawn of Satan laughing so hard it sounded as though he was rolling around on the floor. Maybe if you were in his position you would do the same. But you weren't, you were in your position. Grinding your pearly whites you muttered out a "fine" and that "if you need me I'll be up in my fortress" sassily, you clicked your fingers in front of yourself and walked out back into the hallway. From the corner of your eye, you could see Gilbert leaning against the wall and sending you a shit eating grin whilst whispering.
"You're on kid."
His words had caused your shoulders to tense greatly. Your orbs narrowing into slits like a tigers would once it's eyes had locked onto its pray. He had the upper hand here, you both knew it. Though, you'd be sure to change that. You turned back to your mother, who left out your cup and some supplies to make juice if you wanted some but didn't bother actually making it in case you were in to foul of mood to have any of the drink. Instead, she kissed your forehead as she passed you. Walking over to Gilbert who pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
"Sie sind schön Joyce." The albino whispered to her, one arm wrapping around her waist as he other took his drink from her. Swooned by his words, your mothers cheeks flushed and she accidentally tipped her drink all over his black shirt and better yet, white jeans. Serves him right for wearing white jeans. A chuckle left your lips as you thought that, watching as he blushed deeply from embarrassment.
"What the hell! meine schöne Hose! Francis wird mich töten!" At this point and when first hearing his accent. You were certain he was Germany or from some kind of German decent. At his outburst, your mother couldn't help herself and burst into laughter. Grabbing a cloth and helping to whip down his pants. She must have forgotten you were there. A soft frown came across your face and you silently made your way upstairs.
It was obvious he was no good for her.
Marching to your room, you opened the door. When you started senior school you decided that you would add some personality to your door and your mother was happy to supply some crafts materials. Now, your door was a literal disco ball. You and your mother had covered it over with glue before dumping contents of glitter on the wooden surface and then hanging up a sign saying.
"Fluff, angst and a whole lot of fanfiction."
She always understood you and your sense of humor. Even if children at school didn't. You wouldn't say you were bullied, but you did get a particularly hard time with the other children. Grouchily, you stormed over to your bed to lay down after shutting the door and propping your desk chair in front of it. Grabbing your laptop you quickly turned it on, typing in your password and clicking on Facebook. Glancing to the side, you noticed your new phone and bit your lip feeling guilty you had left your knew possession in the room. It must have cost your father a fortune and you felt as though you were obliged to carry it everywhere. It was incredibly stupid, but for some reason you just ached to see your father so bad that carrying the phone felt like it was all you had of him. Shaking your head, you lent your hand on your cheek which seemed to give your neck all the support it needed to stay up. Clicking back on the group chat, you realized that for the time you had been gone the others had been idly chatting. You didn't feel left out. Okay maybe a bit. But it's just because Gilbert had already put you into a bad mood. However, your nickname Tango ice blast instantly made you chuckle. Whenever you and your friends went to the cinemas, you always brought that drink, it seemed to be an obsession of yours. Fortunately, your mood brightened even more when Wendy mentioned she wanted you to come back online soon, not enjoying being the only girl whilst the two boys bickered back and fourth.
Tango ice blast : Hey guys.
Sketchers : Thank goodness your back. These two were leaving so many notifications I thought my ears would explode.
Baby bell : If I could snort I would. You realize that you and Pissy Peter are doing the same to me?
[Pissy peter] changed their nickname to [Perfect Peter]
Perfect Peter : Ha!
[Baby bell] changed [Perfect Peters] nickname to [Idiot]
Idiot : Oh...that hardly seems fair.
You soon found keeping track of these nicknames were hard but it made Ernald happy so you didn't want to complain. Barley anything made him happy. In your head you reminded yourself who everybody was. Okay so now Peters “idiot" I'm "Tango Ice blast" Wendy is "Sketchers" and Ernalds "Baby Bell"...Is it bad I just realized why we're not popular? Sighing, you decided to just sit and read the conversation. Since you were on the chat they could all see you were reading the messages and Peters spidey senses were tingling.
Idiot : Is something wrong (Name)?
Baby Bell : Ha
Idiot : Why are you laughing?
Baby Bell : I read it as "Idiot! Is something wrong (Name)?" Anyways, go on (Name).
Sketchers : *Reassuring smiley face*
Sighing, you decided it was best not to tell them over message. It's not that you didn't trust them not to show other people or anything like that, but there was only so much you could vent your hatred for Gilbert over messenger.
Tango Ice blast : I'll tell you guys tomorrow. It's pretty late and schools tomorrow so yeh. Peace out! *Angel face*
Authors note: Okay so i wrote this a long while ago but I thought why not just publish it and see what happens! I might write a part two, probably, but we’ll see where it goes <3
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luci-is-a-devil- · 5 years
Text
If I’m Not Falling On The Rink, I’m Falling For You
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Author Note: Hiya! It’s been a while since my last post, i’m truly excited to show you the part of a possible series! I recommend reading on desktop if you can, a lot easier! I hope you enjoy, its my first time trying a fic based in the past, the 70s to be exact~
Trigger Warning: Cursing / Mentions of blood / Fighting / Homophobia / Underaged Drinking
Word Count: 6,037
When Chanyeol had applied for a job at the local roller skating rink, he hadn't expected to actually get a call back, nor had he thought he'd actually get the job. See, Chanyeol wasn't a bad worker per say, he was really kind to customers and always did things with a smile. It just so happened that Chanyeol was also a student and often studied into the wee hours of the morning and woke up late. Extremely late.
His worst memory was when he was late for his own birthday, it'd be fine if it was ten or fifteen minutes, but this was a whole hour and a half, and he didn't even remember who's birthday it was!
He accepted the job, not that he had much of a choice in the matter, his mother had been on his case to get a job since the day he turned seventeen, something about responsibilities or whatever.
It had been a month and a half since his first day on the job, which hadn't gone as well as he wanted but he got what he expected. Was he late? No. Did he spill cola all over himself and trip over his words to every single customer? Yes, yes he did. But he did it with a smile!
His shifts varied, but he was usually stuck with odd hours and weird days of the week. Monday morning as soon the roller skating rink open, you could expect Chanyeol sitting in his hot dog booth, wearing his dumb uniform that was made to look like ketchup and mustard were on him.
It was July, his second to last summer of being in high school. His friends had already laughed at his uniform but he had laughed at them falling down while 'skating'. You'd think a wannabe dancer like Jongin would be more graceful, but he was not. Chanyeol would compare him to his drunk aunt at Christmas after she found the liquor that his mother had stashed away, hoping that she wouldn't find it. She always did, Chanyeol wasn't sure why his mother tried anymore.
Kyungsoo was alright, he stumbled here and there, but after a while Chanyeol wasn't sure if the small male was doing it on purpose to make Jongin feel better or not. Sehun, was much better than expected, he skated circles around the other two and kept going off by himself to flirt with the other skaters, going so far as to wink at himslef in the mirror multiple times.  
That was a typical shift, what he had come to expect.
So when one day, his friends hadn't stopped by, he thought it'd be a boring day until he stopped by.
He being the one and only Byun Baekhyun. Also a soon to be senior in Chanyeol's school, a class clown yet also the class pet. Everyone knew Baekhyun like everyone knew his best friends, Yixing and Jongdae. The three had gotten close since the first year of high school when Yixing moved to their town. Jongdae and Baekhyun had already been friends since kindergarten, so they were already a duo of clowns, now they were a trio of fools, pretty ones but fools nonetheless.
Chanyeol had been in the same school as the three, but he'd never gotten a chance to talk to any of them besides an occasional 'excuse me' or 'hello'. Chanyeol and his friends compared to Baekhyun's trio were troublemakers. Except for Kyungsoo who was top of his class, the other three were, interested in other things to say the least.
Where Baekhyun would make his classmates laugh, Chanyeol was interested to see how many times he could leave math class undetected. The answer as of last year was twelve and a half, he would've gotten to thirteen if it wasn't for kyungso throwing an eraser at him.
Whilst the four would attempt to have study sessions, they'd always devolve into a gossip group while they got junk food with whatever money they had on them. Baekhyun and his crew were different, they went to the library to actually study, they were called the pretty boys in school. Chanyeol and his friends had matching leather jackets that they found at a thrift shop.
As Chanyeol was daydreaming and wiping the counter with a rag that was dirtier than the counter, he heard the squeak of the wheels on the rug, meaning that someone approached him in his small hot dog shack. Looking up, Chanyeol dropped his rag on the floor, quickly bending down to get it, only to hit his head on the counter.
Groaning, Chanyeol clutched his head, squatting on the tiled floor.
"Are you alright?"
A voice that was trying not to laugh asked, his voice was light and airy, making Chanyeol fumble as he stood up, grasping on to the table to not fall down.
"Fine! Yes, i'm. Wait, what?"
Chanyeol stumbled over his words, grimacing as he questioned what he just said. Baekhyun giggled, holding his wallet in his hands. The black dots that clouded his vision disappeared, slowly allowing him to see the light brunette boy in front of him.
"How can I help you?"
Chanyeol asked, standing up straight instead of his previous hunched self that had to grasp the table to not fall down. Baekhyun skimmed the menu, his eyes lighting up as he saw something the called his name.
"Can I get an order of cheese fries please! With a water."
Baekhyun's eyes practically sparkled, Chanyeol had to stop himself from flushing, punching the order into the register.
"That'll be two dollars and forty cents, please."
Baekhyun nodded and gave him a five, Chanyeol gave him his change and went into the back to make cheese fries. According to Chanyeol's manager, you were supposed to skimp out on everything you could, fries included. Chanyeol wasn't able to without feeling guilty and usually just made a suitable amount, with a reasonable amount of cheese and bacon, so that's what he did.
Walking back to the counter, holding the tray that held the cheese fries and a water bottle. Placing it on the counter, Chanyeol noticed two dollars in the tip jar that had been empty only a few minutes ago.
"Thank you, Chanyeol!"
With that, Baekhyun grabbed the tray and he was gone. Chanyeol froze, startled by the older teen calling his name. Looking down at his uniform, Chanyeol made sure he wasn't wearing his name tag. He knew he took it off, he hated the thought of so many strangers knowing his name. It wasn't hung on his pocket like it was supposed to be, and there was no way Baekhyun had seen it through his pants pocket. So that could only mean one thing.
Byun Baekhyun knew his name.
It had been a few weeks since the first time Baekhyun visited the roller skating rink, but it wasn't the last, in fact he'd been there at least twice a week by Chanyeol's count, maybe more if his visits weren't only during Chanyeol's shifts.
His friends had continued to make fun of him, they had known of his slight infatuation with the light brunette before he'd seen him at the rink, now that he'd seen him plenty, now with shared smiles and quick banter, Chanyeol was falling deeper and deeper.
It was his day off, a Saturday. You'd think that was the day they needed him but nope, apparently Mondays and Wednesdays were the shifts that were empty. So instead of doing his summer packet, studying, or sending in applications to colleges, Chanyeol was at a diner with his friends.
They were wearing their leather jackets, even if Sehun complained that they looked dumb all together. Chanyeol laughed, saying that Sehun looked dumb anyway. A bruised shoulder in the shape of a fist was worth it when he saw the younger teen roll his eyes, and they were at the diner, drinking as many milkshakes as they could.
Another typical Saturday.
Leather jackets weren't the only reason they were getting strange stares, it might have to do with Sehun wearing platform boots or his jeans with chains, maybe it was Jongin and Kyungsoo who were holding hands and laughing at Sehun's stomping, or it was about Chanyeol who was pointing out that Sehun could just take off his jackets if it really bothered him that much.
They had grown used to the stares, it was either they learned to deal with it or fit themselves into the social construct. They went with the first choice, it seemed so much more fun.
They were squeezed into a booth, laughing at Sehun spit balling at Jongin who retorted with a wet willy, mature teen stuff. As they waited for another round of shakes, Kyungsoo nudged Chanyeol, getting the tallest males attention.
"What, Soo?"
Chanyeol questioned, staring at the black haired teen. Kyungsoo pointed at the entrance of the diner, making Chanyeol squint to see what he was pointing at. At the double doors of the diner stood Baekhyun and his crew. The three held bags from stores and were laughing. Chanyeol flushed, immediately turning his sight away from the trio.
Unlike Chanyeol's leather jacket and jeans, Baekhyun wore high waisted pants with a flannel tied around his waist and a white tank top. He looked like he wandered out of a catalog compared to Chanyeol's grunge esque fashion that typically came from goodwill and other thrift shops.
The four got their milkshakes, Sehun's arriving with a slice of cake as well. The youngest had quite the sweet tooth to his brothers chagrin, it was always a fight between the two. Since their parents had disappeared, Junmyeon had become the legal guardian of his step-brother. It had been three years, Sehun had gathered some sort of disdain for his parents after their disappearance. What the public hadn't known was that they left after Sehun had come out.
The day after, Sehun returned home with Chanyeol in tow. He had slept over at the elders house, not excited to return home. From what Chanyeol could gather between the crying was that it hadn't gone well, but he could tell that by the fading red mark on Sehun's left cheek.
At Sehun's apartment they had expected to see the two stood there, perhaps ignoring their don or even beginning the fight from last night all over again. Instead what the teens saw was an empty apartment. The living room had been stripped of all signs of living, the only remaining furniture being the couch and the ugly rug they had gotten from Kyungsoo's mom.
It was a strange week and a half, lots of angry tears and tantrums. Junmyeon had returned after being called by the police, he'd requested a transfer from his office job in New York to California.
Chanyeol knew it was the guilt that Sehun struggled with, that he'd caused his parents to leave and his brother had to give up his dreams for him. Even the littlest argument caused Sehun to spiral, they'd find him days later in an alley passed out.
Maybe that's why the three babied the youngest, even Jongin who was barely older treated the younger like he was a child, gifting him with sweets and letting him sneak through the window into his room to spend the night.
When Chanyeol was shaken out of his thoughts, he was horrified to see Baekhyun in front of him, all six males looking at the tall teen. Chanyeol flushed, quickly looking at Kyungsoo to plead with him to save him from the awkwardness he'd unknowingly created.
"Baekhyun asked if you wanted to sit together."
Kyungsoo stated, smirking at Chanyeol. Chanyeol nodded, and the four moved over to a table that could seat all of them.
The seven of them got to talking, the extroverted males easily taking over the conversation while the introverted ones listened and put forth their words in where they wanted.
Baekhyun was sat across from Chanyeol at the furthest edge of the table. Taking a sip from his milkshake that had deflated quite a bit, Chanyeol's attention was dragged away from the conversation when Baekhyun called his name.
"Yes?'
Chanyeol asked the brunette, staring at him. The older teen smiled, a whipped cream mustache on his cupids bow causing Chanyeol's stomach to fill with butterflies.
"Can I have your cherry?"
Baekhyun asked, making Chanyeol gawk at him. Chanyeol had his heart on his sleeves, or more likely, his blush on his ears. His ears already stuck out, now having them be red garnered much more attention than he would have cared for.
"My what?"
Chanyeol stumbled over his two words, making Baekhyun laugh. It sounded so precious that Chanyeol wanted to record it and keep it forever, bottle it up inside his memories and never let it go.
"Your cherry! I see you going around it.Can I have it?"
Baekhyun pointed out the fruit that remained in Chanyeol's mostly empty milkshake. Chanyeol, flushed harder, realizing that the question had been perfectly acceptable.
Chanyeol fished out the red fruit that had spots of whipped cream on it, offering it to Baekhyun. Instead of plucking the fruit with his own fingers, he got closer to the fruit and used his mouth to grasp it out of Chanyeol's fingers.
Chanyeol stared, his face probably redder than the cherry had been. Baekhyun smiled, his eyes shutting as his tilted his head to the right. Chanyeol smiled back, to the best of his abilities.
Baekhyun didn't need to know that the cherry was Chanyeol's favorite part.
A month had passed, Chanyeol's last year of high school was coming up fast. He had so much to do, he'd begun to wonder what he'd spent his summer doing. Between working at the hot dog booth and spending time with his friends, he'd only done half of his summer packet but honestly that was more than anyone was expecting him to do.
He had to quit the hot dog shack soon though, he kept putting it off hoping to see Baekhyun again. It had been a week since he'd last seen the trio, the last time was at a beach on a Wednesday. Had it been planned by them? Not to Chanyeol's knowledge and he wasn't sure that it was plain coincidences anymore.
It was a Thursday afternoon, his sister had gone out with some friends and his parents had gone to some party. They had said he could invite Sehun over but the newly dyed orange haired teen was grounded, Junmyeon hadn't been too thrilled with the new hair color. Chanyeol's parents hadn't either but they'd gotten used to their son going along with Sehun's antics.
So Chanyeol was sat on his bed, in his pajamas at a reasonable time, four in the afternoon to be exact. His guitar sat in the corner of his room, begging to be played but Chanyeol couldn't be bothered, his mind was to muddled with thoughts of the future.
Soon he'd be off to college, for the first time since second grade he and his friends wouldn't be together. Jongin had gotten into an art school, which they had all been excited for but it was an underlying thought that they were in fact growing up, they had things that had to be done and wouldn't have time for each other anymore.
Sehun wasn't going to college, he wasn't sure what he wanted to do. Chanyeol couldn't blame him, there had always been so much going on in the younger teens life to navigate around that he had never gotten the chance to figure out what he wanted to do.
Kyungsoo wanted to be an author, his parents wanted him to be a doctor. So he was going to med school, in New York. That had put a damper on things, especially between Jongin and Kyungsoo. They had just gotten together and by this time next year, they'd be in different states. It'd been awkward last time they'd all hung out, they'd ended up back at their houses before sun down.
Chanyeol's was knocked out of his worried state of mind by the phone ringing. He had a passing thought to ignore it but the last time he'd done that he got an earful from his mother, so downstairs he went. Speed walking into the kitchen, he picked up their red phone from the base and humming into it.
"Chanyeol?"
Chanyeol all but dropped the phone, surprised at the familiar voice.
"Baekhyun?"
The teen hummed back, giggling over the line. Chanyeol was breathless, the feeling of butterflies back in his stomach.
"How'd you get my number?"
Chanyeol asked the brunette, racking his mind to see if he had blurted it out at some point. As far as he could remember, he had not. That was too smooth for him, the best he had done was compliment Baekhyun's shoes, and even then he had made it sound like he was going to steal them.
So yeah, flirting wasn't going well.
"Sehun gave it to me." Baekhyun paused, giving a moment for Chanyeol to think how unlikely it was that the teen had given his number to his crush with good intentions. "He said to say sorry that he couldn't hang out with you today?"
That was more like Sehun, the teen apologized through others. Before Chanyeol had found it frustrating, he still did but not as bad as before.
"Yeah, that sounds like him."
Chanyeol agreed, nodding even though the elder couldn't see him.
"What's up with him? Why couldn't he hang out with you guys?"
Baekhyun asked, causing Chanyeol to hum again, trying to figure out how he should phrase what he wanted to say.
"His brother grounded him, Junmyeon wasn't thrilled with Sehun's hair. It was only me he would hang out with, he's avoiding Soo and Jongin, too awkward to third wheel, even for Sehun."
Perhaps he could have phrased it better but it was still better than the usual garbage he spewed.
Baekhyun made a sound of acknowledgement, understanding the drama that came along with friends. There was a minute of silence, a race to see who could come up with something interesting to say to keep the conversation going.
"Do you wanna hang out tomorrow?"
Baekhyun won. Chanyeol nodded, then realized that the elder couldn't see him so he voiced his agreement.
"Cool, see you tomorrow?"
"See you tomorrow."
Another moment of silence, listening to Baekhyun laugh quietly as they stayed on the line. Chanyeol joined in, his cheeks dusted pink.
"Hang up, Park."
Baekhyun said, breathless as he whispered. Chanyeol could imagine the brunette, fingers playing with the cord of the phone as the spoke, his eyes twinkling as he listened to Chanyeol speak.
"Not before you, Byun."
Baekhyun snorted, commenting how gross they sounded before hanging up, leaving Chanyeol to the silence in the line. A dopey smile painted on Chanyeol's face as he hung up the phone, leaning his head against the wall.
Baekhyun wanted to hang out with him.
Friday came slowly and quickly at the same time, Chanyeol couldn't sleep last night. At some point he'd picked out an outfit but after that everything was a blur. Getting dressed into the white t-shirt and high waisted jeans he'd picked out. Deciding on a over shirt instead of his leather jacket, he headed out of his room. Saying goodbye to his parents, he walked out of the house.
Walking the two blocks that it took to get to Baekhyun's house, Chanyeol knocked on the door. Waiting patiently, Chanyeol messed with his hair, anxious to see whoever would come to the door.
Thankfully it was Baekhyun, not his parents.
"Hey Chanyeol! You ready to go?"
Baekhyun asked, shutting the door behind him. The two walked, making conversation as they walked to their destination. Baekhyun hadn't told Chanyeol where he was taking him, nor what they were going to do.
As they approached town, Chanyeol knew where they were headed. He had to laugh as he watched the rink come into view.
"Seriously?"
Chanyeol punched Baekhyun in the shoulder, causing Baekhyun to laugh. The elder shrugged, grasping Chanyeol'd hand and dragging him along. Once they entered the rink, Chanyeol waved to Minseok who was working the counter.
"What's your shoe size?"
Baekhyun asked, removing his shoes and putting them in a cubby nearby.
"Size ten, you?"
Chanyeol asked, doing the same with his shoes, freezing when he looked at his socks. Of course he picked the socks Yoora gave him for Christmas, the ones with breakfast foods on them. Baekhyun stifled a laugh by coughing into his palm, his cheeks pink.
"Size eight."
Chanyeol nodded, walking to the counter to get their skates. Ignoring Baekhyun's calls to get back.
"Hey Yeol! Didn't expect too see you here today."
Minseok said, hopping off of the chair he had been sat on. Minseok was a college student, also one of Chanyeol's favorite co-workers. Minseok was at a communal college, he also didn't rat Chanyeol out for giving too many freebies out.
"I didn't expect it either, Min. Eight and a ten please."
Chanyeol held out a ten dollar bill, only to be waved off by Minseok.
"Keep it, buy your date a milkshake or something, Dumbo." Minseok put the skates on the counter with a thud. "Not from the dog shack though, Namjoon is working and you never know what you get."
Chanyeol nodded, knowing how often the freshman had been chewed out by their manager. Saying a see you later, Chanyeol grabbed the skates and headed back over to Baekhyun who was sulking.
"Lighten up, buttercup." Chanyeol said, placing the shoes on the floor. "We can go for shakes after this, if you want."
Baekhyun smiled, nodding as he slipped his feet into the skates.
"Only if I get to pay."
Chanyeol shrugged, a smile on his face.
"We'll see."
Baekhyun rolled his eyes, standing up after he laced his shoes. Chanyeol attempted to do so, but he wasn't good at walking with normal shoes, even worse with ones that had wheels.
"You're bad at this."
Baekhyun smiled, making Chanyeol stick his tongue out at the brunette. Wobbling over to the railing, Chanyeol managed to make it inside of the rink without falling.
Baekhyun skated next to him, without use of the railing that Chanyeol held onto for dear life. The two laughed at how bad Chanyeol was, laughing especially hard as a child young enough to not be in school zoomed past them.
There was something about spending time with Baekhyun that made Chanyeol giddy inside, he wouldn't be laughing this hard every time he nearly fell. There was no embarrassment, even though Baekhyun could skate circles around Chanyeol if he wanted, in fact he had at some point.
"Come on, let's get milkshakes, Bambi."
Baekhyun teased the pink haired teen, tugging him towards the exit. Chanyeol agreed, flushed by the new nickname he'd acquired. The two skated it to seat they had been at before, removing their skates and putting on their normal shoes.
Chanyeol returned their skates to Minseok, who winked at him. Rolling his eyes at the elder, Chanyeol went back to Baekhyun, the both of them exiting the rink.
They headed to the nearest diner, which was only a block away thankfully. Chanyeol's legs already felt like jelly, he was definitely going to have some bruises tomorrow.
The two went into a booth, ordering their milkshakes. Strawberry for Baekhyun, vanilla for Chanyeol. There was conversation over Chanyeol's wobbly legs, Minseok, and the hot dog shack.
When their milkshakes came, Chanyeol handed over his cherry, laughing as Baekhyun smiled at him. They drank their milkshakes, Baekhyun payed and they headed back to Baekhyun's house.
"Bye Baekhyun."
Chanyeol waved, dropping off the elder. Baekhyun waved, although his mind seemed to be on something else. It was strange but Chanyeol didn't question it. He waited for Baekhyun to enter the house and then walked back to his own house.
The car wasn't in the driveway and he didn't hear his sister so he assumed he was by himself. He was surprised to hear the phone ringing, but he assumed it was Yoora, probably telling him that she wouldn't be home.
"Hello?" He answered the phone, setting his over shirt on the back of a chair.
"Have you seen Sehun?"
Junmyeon's panicked voice carried over the line, instantly causing the hair on the back of Chanyeol's neck to stand. The last time this had happened they had found Sehun in an alley drunk and unconscious.
"No, why?"
Chanyeol needed to know, if it was over a simple fight the younger teen was probably on his way to one of his friends houses. If it wasn't, Chanyeol didn't want to think about it.
"We had a fight a few hours ago, he went into his room and locked the door. He's not there anymore, Yeol. He didn't even take his wallet."
Dread filled Chanyeol's stomach, this wasn't like before. Something was wrong.
"I'll call the others, stay home in case he comes back."
Chanyeol didn't wait for the reply before he hung up. Dialing Kyungsoo, he urged for the black haired male to pick up. As soon as the phone was picked up Chanyeol questioned him, hoping that the youngest teen was with him.
"Is Sehun with you?"
The words came out of Chanyeol's mouth as if they made him sick, the felt like poison, like they were so heavy they could crack the earth.
"No."
A one worded reply, yet he understood the seriousness in Kyungsoo's tone. It was a never spoken fear between the eldest in their group, the fear that they wouldn't be able to find Sehun one day.
"Call Jongin, I'm going to go look for him. If he doesn't know either check by the bars, I'll go the the fort."
Once again Chanyeol hung up without waiting for a reply. Quickly writing out a note in case his parents returned, he rushed out the door, not taking his over shirt.
Thousands of thoughts went through his head, as he ran past dark alleys glancing in them for Sehun's body. Soon he'd gotten to the forest, one of their favorite places to play when they were younger, the place they had the first drink of alcohol.
Sprinting through the foliage, he made through the forest in record time. Getting to the gathering of stumps that they had called their fort.
Relief rushed through his body as he saw a body curled up next to a stump, the orange hair giving away his identity.
"Oh Sehun, what the fuck?"
Chanyeol called, closing the distance between them. Dropping to his knees in front of the younger teen, Chanyeol forced Sehun to look at him. Quietly gasping at the sight of Sehun, Chanyeol froze.
The younger had a split lip, bloody nose, and a black eye, that was only his face, Chanyeol couldn't imagine what his body looked like.
"Did Junmyeon do this?"
Chanyeol whispered, rage filling his every being. This was his friend, who could do something like this to Sehun? The younger teen couldn't hurt anyone, he was all talk.
"God no. He wishes he could, Myeon is too nice."
Sehun replied, blood dripping from his nose. Chanyeol wiped it, rubbing the blood onto his jeans.
"What happened, Sehunnie?"
Chanyeol asked, using the younger teens nickname to calm him down. It worked, Sehun begin to spill what had happened.
"Myeon and I fought, I told him that mom had called. He got angry at me, and I stormed off. I'm so sick of him treating me like a kid, Yeol. I'm seventeen, not three. So I jumped out the window, I forgot to grab my wallet so I couldn't go to the bar."
Sehun paused to spit out some blood, wiping his nose with his hand and then grimacing as his foot moved.
"I went to Yixing's he was having a party so I figured I could get booze there, I did but you know me, always fucking things up. God, I messed things up so bad, Yeol."
Sehun finished, not bothering to say how he ended up here beaten and bloody. Chanyeol knew better then to ask, plus getting Sehun out of here was more important then figuring out who did this. For now.
Helping Sehun up, Chanyeol tried to help the younger walk, telling him to avoid putting pressure on his leg. The two walked in silence, slowly getting out of the forest. They hadn't gotten very far when they ran into a tearful Jongin and a silent Kyungsoo.
"Sehun?"
Jongin cried, fresh tears falling from his eyes as he practically ran into the youngest, squeezing him as he sobbed. Kyungsoo watched, talking to Chanyeol through stares. It was a language that only they spoke, the silent questions and the quiet answers that couldn't be spoken just yet.
"Jongin, we're taking Sehun to the hospital. Grab his other arm."
Chanyeol cut the reunion short, more worried over the pain that the younger was feeling. Jongin nodded, wiping his tears before helping carry Sehun's weight. With both of them to distribute the orange haired teens weight, they could walk faster.
Soon enough they were at the hospital, carrying Sehun inside and receiving strange looks and glares from other patients. They quickly divided up tasks, Chanyeol would carry Sehun to a chair, Kyungsoo would call Junmyeon, and Jongin would get the papers to sign in Sehun.
"I'm sorry."
Chanyeol turned his head, now staring at the boy sat next to him. Chanyeol smiled, staring at him before replying.
"It's alright."
Seven and a half hours had passed from the incident that the four were calling 'Sehun got his ass kicked by mystery people', Junmyeon hadn't appreciated the name. Sehun hadn't told anyone what had happened yet but Chanyeol got an inkling as to who it had been.
Junmyeon had come and finished signed the papers, hugging Sehun before the doctors had taken Sehun away to X-ray his leg. One cast later, the four teens were cramped in Junmyeon's car on the way home. It'd been a few hours since they'd all left their houses, well past their curfews. Junmyeon was taking them home to explain what was going on and to apologize to their parents for keeping them out so late.
The teens had pleaded for him not too but quickly shut up once he glared at them. Jongin and Junmyeon got out of the car first, Junmyeon telling the three that he'd be back. Jongin pressed his lips to Kyungsoo's face, wishing Chanyeol goodnight before ruffling Sehun's hair.
"It was dad."
Sehun whispered after a minute, looking straight ahead so he didn't see their reactions to his words. Chanyeol sighed, nodding. He had been right. Kyungsoo was silent as well, leaving the car to be obnoxiously loud with their thoughts.
"He found me outside of the apartment. I was going to go back in. He didn't even say anything, he just kicked me. He said I was going to die and they could return back to normal with their useless son dead."
Sehun sobbed, furiously wiping his tears away. Chanyeol's hand was clenched into a fist, pissed at how his friend that felt like a younger brother had been treated. Kyungsoo was the next one to speak, also the last one to speak.
"You aren't useless, Oh Sehun."
Harder sobs, Sehun's body shook as he cried. The eldest two were left in the backseat, unable to help. It'd been a long day, one that had started so well ended so poorly. Even if Chanyeol tried to find the positives in the hours, all he could come up with were even more negatives.
One day, they wouldn't be around to help Sehun. They'd be all over the place, they couldn't just up and leave. What happened when Sehun couldn't feel their love anymore? Would it stop with drunken alley fights? Or would Sehun do worse, would he go through with things that he's confessed he'd though about at sleepovers. Chanyeol feared the worst.
Junmyeon came out soon, the three as silent as before even after they dropped off Kyungsoo. When they got to Chanyeol's house, the car wasn't in the driveway. Chanyeol pleaded to just call his parents later, the two needed to get home.
Junmyeon didn't put up a fight, Chanyeol could see the elders bags that laid under his eyes.
"Goodnight Chanyeol."
Junmyeon said as Chanyeol opened the door, putting one foot out before speaking.
"Tell him what happened, Sehunnie."
Shutting the door behind him, Chanyeol walked up to the front door, shocked to see someone sitting on the steps.
"Is Sehun okay?"
Baekhyun.
Chanyeol nodded, opening up the front door and urging the other teen inside. The two made their way inside the kitchen, Chanyeol getting out mugs and making hot chocolate for the both of them.
It had been a long day.
Once the mugs had been filled, Chanyeol offered one to the teen sat across from him. Taking a sip, Chanyeol realized Baekhyun was sat there frozen.
"What's wrong?"
Chanyeol asked, not quite understanding why the teen would be the emotional right now. They had found Sehun, he was mostly alright for the time being. It was up to Sehun what they would be doing now, if they wanted to charge Sehun's dad with assault.
"Does this happen a lot?"
Baekhyun asked his voice shaking as he gripped the mug of hot chocolate, he was so pale. Chanyeol thought over how he would reply, had this happened so often that he'd gotten numb to it?
"I'm not going to lie to you, it happens more than any of us would like. It used to be worse, almost every day. He's gotten better, this time wasn't about Sehun."
Chanyeol knew that didn't make sense, it wouldn't make sense to someone who didn't spend sleepless nights listening to someone you cared about cry. It was hard to explain to someone who hadn't had to spend hours in the dark looking for their best friend fearin that they would be dead.
Perhaps Chanyeol had numbed himself, but he felt so much for the younger that he wouldn't be able to function without shutting himself off.
Both were quiet, sipping their hot chocolate occasionally. It was a silence that made Chanyeol anxious, he'd been infatuated with this boy since the beginning of high school, how would he take it if Baekhyun didn't approve of Sehun.
Tears slowly gathered in Chanyeol's eyes, pooling around his chocolate colored orbs before streaming down his cheeks, a silent sob shaking Chanyeol's body.
When was the last time he cried? When was the last time that he allowed himself to be vulnerable?
"Okay."
Chanyeol looked up, slightly surprised by the single word. His tears clouded his vision, making the brunette across from him seem dream like, as if this was all a fantasy that Chanyeol's subconscious had created.
Baekhyun's chair moved back with a squeak, startling Chanyeol, fearing that the teen was leaving. Instead Baekhyun closed the distance between them, his fingers wiping Chanyeol's tears, lingering on his cheeks.
"I love you," Baekhyun paused, wiping another tear From Chanyeol's eye. The pit of anxiety opened up in Chanyeol's mind and for those few second he spiraled to his worst fears, waiting for a but. It never came. "No matter what, Bambi."
A dopey smile from Baekhyun, the one where he closed his eyes and you could see his tongue behind his teeth, the smile that erase all of Chanyeol's fears instantly. The smile that beat the sun out in brightness, the part of Baekhyun that made Chanyeol want to protect him.
"I love you too."
Tears and all, the thoughts of being separated, the fear of what would happen to his friends not forgotten, those thought lingered in the back of his mind. Like the fear of rain on a perfect day, it was useless to worry about.
Byun Baekhyun was Chanyeol's perfect day and he would be damned if someone took him away.
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gulgbtqplus · 5 years
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Meet the Committee 2019/20
We have 16 committee members who work together to run the society:
1. President: Maddy, She/her, [email protected]
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Hi, my name's Maddy, I use she/her pronouns, and I'm the current president of gulgbtq+! I'm a third year medical student and I was the previous welfare officer. I spend most of my time hanging out with my rat, hiding in the library, and doing things with gulgbtq+. I'm a chatty gal and I love meeting new people, so feel free to scream with me about Troye Sivan/Hayley Kiyoko/Charli XCX anytime.
If you have any questions or ideas, hit me up! I'm very excited to be a part of the society this year and engage with all our members ❤
2. VP Secretary: Quinn, He/Him, [email protected]
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Hi I'm Quinn and I am your secretary this year for GULGBTQ+. I am an economic and social history student who has been going to GULGBTQ+ events since my first moment in Glasgow. I enjoy poetry, comedy and films, and dogs, dogs are good. Can't wait to see you at events! If you ever want to message myself or the committee with any questions, suggestions or comments I can be reached at [email protected], see you soon!
3. Treasurer: Emily B, She/Her, [email protected]
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Hi! I’m Emily, the new VP Treasurer! I’m 21, use she/her pronouns, and am proudly bisexual. I’m currently in 4th year, studying history (dissertation time, yikes!) I’ve been part of the society over the last year, and it’s been one of the best parts of my university experience. I’ve made new friends, increased my self-confidence, and had tons of good gay times! Outside of the society, I enjoy going to gigs, caring for my many houseplants, and taking too many naps. I’m excited for my role on committee this year, although you know what they say about gays and maths! I’m constantly on social media, so feel free to drop me a bell if you have any questions or queries! I’m on twitter @_emilybarton. Hope to see you at an event soon :-)
4. Welfare: Bianca, She/he, [email protected]
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Hello! My name is Bianca and I'm the Welfare Officer of GULGBTQ+. I'm a small twenty-year-old Italian and I am a third year English Language & Linguistics and Theatre Studies student. I spend most of my free time reading, crying over Shakespeare, or bingeing the latest gay shows on Netflix, and the rare times I decide to go outside and try sports I enjoy horse riding and ice skating. I'm a gryffindor and I'm very excited to be back on committee this year, so feel free to drop me an e-mail for anything you might need!
5. Events: Emily T, She/Her, [email protected]
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Hi everyone! My name's Emily (Tunstall) and this year I'm really excited to be the Events Coordinator for GULGBTQ+! I'm a second year Psychology Student and in my free time I like drawing, painting, making new friends, and spending time with this society. ❤
Please feel free to say hi to me online or in person, I will almost always be wearing my Docs and at least one badge, be it on my bag or my denim jacket, if you need help recognising me. I'm always open for a good chat, to offer some advice, or if you just need some directions around Uni! I would really love to see you at our events on a Wednesday, or at one of our coffees during the week. 🌈🌈🌈
6. Women’s: Claire, She/Her, [email protected]
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Hi, I'm Claire, and I'm your women's officer! I'm a third year in Microbiology. Ask me about worms. Sometimes I think I'm not a stereotype but then I remember I have two cats, a Hozier-centric Spotify, and build furniture for a hobby.
I'm so excited for another great year! One of the things I love about this society is that it's an inclusive space for all women, and I want to make everyone feel welcome. If you have any comments, questions, or concerns (or just want to chat) feel free to shoot me a message!
8. Trans: Cassidy, They/Them, [email protected]
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Hey, I'm Cassidy (they/them) the new Trans officer! I'm 20 and a third year studying Classics and History. I'm a nonbinary trans woman and I'm here to represent trans people and help people with gender related things generally 🙂
Aside from being gender, I am a roller skating gamer who makes stuffed toys and loves history more than life itself. I'm looking forward to running coffee and having a great year with everyone 🙂
9. Postgraduate and Mature Students: Kyle, He/Him, [email protected]
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Hey, hi, hello! I’m Kyle, a postgraduate Astrophysics student who’ll be your first PostMat Officer for this year! Avid Karaoke Fan and Polo R&B Room Resident, I’ll usually be found out and about when I’m not studying (procrastinating). My aim for the time that I’m here is to try and get more LGBTQ+ Postgraduate and Mature students involved with GULGBTQ+.
I haven’t been in Glasgow for very long, so I’m excited to share the experience of things like Glasgow Pride with you all! I’m also hoping to run some smaller gatherings (like the current PostMat Coffees) over the summer for those of us who will need a break from our dissertations. If any PostMat students have ideas to share or any concerns to raise, please don’t be afraid to email.
10. Campaigns: Jo, They/He, [email protected]
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Hi, I’m Jo and I’m your Campaigns Officer! I’m a postgraduate research student in English Language & Linguistics with a particular love for all things to do with LGBTQ+ linguistics. I’m a big fan of knitting, baking, indoor bouldering and playing D&D, and I’m also involved with the English Language & Linguistics Society. I was Campaigns Officer the year before last in 2017/2018, but I just couldn’t stay away, and now I’m back for some more campaigning!
As Campaigns Officer, my role is to raise awareness of LGBTQ+ issues in the society, on campus, and in the wider world. In the past, I’ve helped run campaigns to increase awareness of trans people on campus and to encourage local hairdressers and barbers to be inclusive of their LGBTQ+ customers. This year, I hope to revitalise these campaigns and work with our other officers and members of the society to create some exciting new ones!
Please feel free to contact me if you’d like to get involved in campaigning or have any ideas that you’d like to share with me!
11. Communications and Technology: Summer, They/Them, [email protected]
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Hi, I’m Summer and I’m the Communications and Technology Officer for the year! I’m a 5th year computing science student (yes, that kind of transfem!) so you’ll frequently find me programming, tinkering with Linux or providing tech support for someone. When I’m not doing that I’ll probably be knitting, playing video games, running tabletop rpgs or watching martial arts movies (or talking about how I don't have time for any of the above)!
As the recently renamed Communications and Technology officer (formerly Publicity) I'm mostly here for you to tell me why the website or mailing list doesn't work, so feel free to get in touch with any complaints and/or constructive criticisms. I hope to have a great year with you all, hopefully with a better website!
12: First Year Ordinary Member: Jenny, She/Her, [email protected]
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Hiya!  I’m Jenny and I’m the interim first year representative on the GULGBTQ+ committee.  I’m going into second year studying biomedical engineering and in my free time I enjoy drawing, making soup, and loving my gf.  I met wonderful friends and made loads of good gay memories through the society in my first year and am excited to help as many freshers as possible join in on the fun this year!  I’m passionate about creating a loving and accepting community for all LGBTQ+ students, especially new ones, since I know how hard it can be to settle in.  If you’re a fresher and have any ideas, questions, or just want to make a new friend, please don’t hesitate to send me an email!
13: Bi/Pan: Valentine, They/ve, [email protected]
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Hi I'm Niamh, you may recognise me as last year's nonbinary officer! I use they/them pronouns, I'm 20 and a 3rd year psychology student. This'll be my 3rd year in the society and I love it with my whole heart. If you have any issues feel free to email me or message me on Facebook (Niamh Conlan). My first and foremost want is for those coming to the society and bi events to feel comfortable and welcomed!
When I'm not being a disaster bisexual I'm dying my hair, applying clown makeup, dancing to new wave or doing kendo. I'm excited to meet you all and hope to have a great year with everyone!
14. International Students: Judith, She/they, [email protected]
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Hi! I’m Judith, I’ve been described as “the lesbianest person I know” by my flatmate and if you ask me where I’m from, I’m likely to name three countries, so I guess it makes sense that I’d be your international officer. I’m a third year psychology and statistics student who likes to avoid studying by going swordfighting (yes, I own an actual sword, but don’t worry, I only use it against transphobes) or putting on facepaint before a metal gig. But don’t get the wrong impression, I’m actually a very quiet person who’s always there to listen or give you advice. Feel free to message me on Facebook (Judith AN), send me an email or just come talk to me during the international coffees I’ll be running!
15. Aromantic and Asexual: Lo, They/Them, [email protected]
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Hello! I’m Leilo (they/them), 20, and happy to be the ace/aro officer! My job is to represent people who are (or are questioning if they are) on the spectrums of being aromantic or asexual, so feel free to email me! As ace/aro officer I host biweekly coffees so aros, aces, and those who are questioning, can come together.
I’m a second year Maths student but will probably add philosophy as my second main subject. Aside from sitting over Math problems for way longer than seems necessary, you will find me writing, working out, or philosophising about bdsm.
16: Non-binary: Robyn, They/Them, [email protected]
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Salut! I’m Robyn and I’m the Non-Binary Officer. I’m a 2nd Year French/History student and I was born in Glasgow - I’m like a rare pokemon. I only resurrect during Eurovision season and have a hoard of sunglasses. And I’m a massive comic book nerd (yes I am Batman’s sidekick on the side).
I’m always down for a chat and feel free to DM me with anything from issues, to memes! I’m very excited to be your Non-Binary boi this year!!
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hotdogjumpingfrog5 · 6 years
Text
It’s Strange - Chapter 18
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve , Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen , Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen
~
March 21st, 1987
It was Thursday night, and both the Byers and Hopper side came together for the first time for dinner. Jim and Joyce were now serious, and they figured now was a good time for both families to interact. 
Both Will and El hadn’t interacted a whole lot, but tonight would be an opportunity for them to get to know each other a bit better.
Johnathan and Emma on the other hand, knew each other more, but were not 100% close either. 
Jim and Joyce had decided to go to a local Italian restaurant, a place where everyone will like what is served. Compromise. 
Hopper, Eleven, and Emma were the first ones to arrive, and about two minutes later, the Byers had entered.
After being seated, there was a few moments of silence while everyone looked at their menus, while at the same time figuring out what to say to each other. 
“So,” Hopper began, “How’s everyone’s life going?”
“Good.” Johnathan and Emma responded
Hopper and Joyce looked over at Eleven and Will, while Johnathan and Emma turned around to look after they didn’t respond
Will and Eleven were sitting across from each other, staring into each other’s eyes intensely, almost as if they were communicating through telepathy. 
“Will? Jane?” said Joyce
They had the same response as Johnathan and Emma, but almost immediately went back to staring at each other. 
“So Johnathan, how is university coming along?” Jim asked, “And how’s Nancy?”
“It’s going good, I have a few exams coming up in a couple of weeks.” Johnathan responded, “And me and Nancy are doing well, thanks for asking.”
“Very good.” Hopper smiled
“And what about you, Emma?” said Joyce
“It’s good. Zoology is interesting.” Em replied
“I bet it is!” said Joyce, “Oh, how’s your mother and stepsister doing?”
“They’re good, me and my sister Lucy’s relationship is better than it was two years ago of course.” Emma laughed
As Joyce, Johnathan, and Emma were in their own conversations, Jim had zoned out and looked over at Eleven and Will. 
They were still staring into each other’s eyes intensely, not looking away nor blinking. Almost as if they were having an internal conversation with each other; another language nobody else could understand.
“Jane. Will.” said Jim, “Join in on the conversation.”
The two of them had broken eye contact, and joined in with the rest of them.
“Do you guys stare at each other like that when you hang out?” Johnathan chuckled
“We’re only now getting to know each other.” said Will
Emma gave her younger sister a look, in which Eleven responded with an annoyed expression.
As far as the night was going, all of them felt some sort of connection with each other, aside from Joyce and Hopper, who had already felt a connection between each other a long while.
Johnathan and Emma knew each other since it was only four of them including Nancy and Steve in their group, but Johnathan and Emma were getting to know each other a bit better.
As for Eleven and Will, it was almost as if they felt an immediate connection right away.
Because who knows, they could be possible step siblings very soon.
~
April 3rd, 1987
It is just after 5:30, and Ella was going to head to Beverly’s house for the night. After she finished her mother’s chicken noodle soup. But she knew her and Beverly would be having takeout later on, but she’d never tell her mother of course.
“Okay Ellie bear,” said Sonia, “Make sure you take your vitamins with you, or you will get sick.”
She didn’t like being called Ellie, and her mom was the worst for saying it. But as normal, gave her a fake smile and replied with “Yes, mommy.”
“Good girl, and make sure it’s just you and Marsh tonight, aside from her guardian.” Sonia continued, “If you shower, make sure you use towels Beverly hasn’t used; I wouldn’t want her to give you any STDs or AIDs.”
At this point Ella wasn’t listening, and made her way to the porch to get ready to leave.
“And where do you think you’re off to?” Eddie came in, sounding just like their mom
“I told you earlier, Bev’s.” Ella responded, “And by the way, you’re my twin brother, not mom.”
“I’m older than you, I know what’s best.”
There hasn’t been a week where Eddie hasn’t said that to her.
“Yeah, right.” El responded, and shut the door behind her
She made her way down the path which lead to the end of their driveway, and Richie was just lurking around the corner, headed up the path.
“Hi Ella.” Richie said smugly
“Don’t talk to me, trashmouth.” El mumbled, still pissed about the ridiculous April Fool’s jokes he pulled the other day
“What did I do?” said Richie, “All I did was pour water in your backpack on Wednesday!”
“You also trashed my room and went through my stuff when you were up on Wednesday you sicko!” Ella said annoyed
“You like it.”
She gave him the bird in response, not wanting to be bothered with Richie
“Rude!” said Richie, “I’m going to tell Mrs. K you were not being nice!”
“Perv!” she said while punching in the arm, then ran off
As soon as Ella hit the next block, she caught her breath and chuckled at what she did, not wanting to show any sort of emotion around Tozier
Later on that night, Beverly and Ella walked the streets that evening after dinner, getting up to shit neither Bev’s aunt or Ella’s mom would not approve of.
That stuff being two sixteen/fifteen year old girls walking around at night. 
But as long as they didn’t find out.
Eventually, the two of them made their way back to Bev’s apartment, as they were both getting exhausted
It was 11 o’clock when they got back, but they decided to go to bed earlier than they normally would. But would stay up chatting for a while, of course.
This time Ella slept on the floor. Tonight Beverly was feeling okay, and wasn’t getting any sinister flashbacks about her now deceased father. 
“Did you get up to much after school today?” Bev asked
“Not really,” El responded, “Eddie has turned into our mom, and Richard is a douche.”
“Oh dear, what did those boys do this time?” Beverly chuckled
Though it was all minor, she still gave a short rant about the two.
“But why did Richie go through your stuff?” Bev questioned, “Based on what you told me and what trashmouth has done to you in the past, it does sound to me that he likes -”
“No Bev,” El rolled her eyes, “Not gonna happen. I can’t see myself going after my brother’s friend.”
“You suuure?” Beverly smirked
“Yes, please stop.” El chuckled, “How’s you and Ben doing anyway?”
“We’re good”
Ella just then remembered of what happened a month ago the night she looked after Georgie. Bill had originally asked Bev to do it, but Beverly had to cancel last minute.
El vaguely remembers Bill giving her the key, and played a game or two with Georgie before he did his own thing and she sat in the living room. 
Nothing seemed too out of place until Georgie stared at her with a creepy grin from across the room before muttering “Come join the clown, Eds.”
“Uh, what?” El asked, confused
“I saw a clown before.” Georgie giggled, “He was so funny!”
Then, would go back to himself. No more creepy grin, and Georgie continued as if that episode never even happened.
She had mentioned it to Bill when he got home later that evening, and Bill was slightly suspicious himself. Though he had said this rarely happened, and brushed it off as Georgie’s imagination going wild. Besides, Georgie hadn’t done anything else that entire night. 
Eddie had told her about a particular clown the other losers faced months before El had joined them. Could it have been the same one? 
Ella had mentioned that to Beverly on the spot, and Bev’s expression changed as she stared up to the ceiling, heart thumping
“Something wrong?” El asked
“Did you see anything?” Bev questioned
“No, why?”
“Okay. I just hope It’s not back.” said Beverly, “I could have sworn we killed that clown two years ago. Did you feel like you were being watched after Georgie said that?”
“Kind of, but I guess that’s just because it freaked me out.” Ella brushed it off
Beverly sat up in bed, wondering why this happened. Though Ella’s weird encounter with Georgie happened a month ago, no one has gone missing in Derry-Hawkins.
El mentioned that she forgot about it as soon as she left, and as did Bill, as he did not mention it to the group.
“You know, I see why Eddie is overprotective of you.” 
“Nah, he’s just being his bossy self, Eddie might as well be my second mom.” Ella shrugged
“No El, you don’t understand!” Beverly insisted, “He doesn’t want you to be in any form of danger, or fall into It or whatever is out there’s clutches.”
“But what else could be out there? I thought you guys said It was gone?”
Both the losers and the party have encountered seeing something weird one by one, but no one could lay a finger on it. No one has gone missing since two years ago, and Derry-Hawkins was considered safe again, even though the 7 pm curfew sign was still up in front of Derry High, two years later. 
The Derry police never did take it down.
Beverly sighed, not knowing how she was feeling at this point, but mostly fearful
She felt this chill go up her spine, and realized El was the newest member of the losers club, and hoping It wouldn’t come back for El, since she too was a girl.
But It can’t come for her though, Beverly thought, It only comes out every 27 years, right?
~
Next Chapter: Chapter 19
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spooky-raccoon · 6 years
Text
It’s In The Evidence (Part 3)
        Of course, days dragged but things weren’t dull. They were hell.  A few more children had been missing and there had been reports of something being spotted at the Barrens.  I had wanted to go so bad but I had to organize things for the cases and analyze other crimes that had happened in town.  When I left the office on Wednesday the sun was setting and I decided to set out to the Barrens to see if I could get some photos.  I parked my car in a secluded area and slung my camera around my neck.  With a flash light I made it through the woods.  The light began to flicker so I shut it off, slipping it into my belt loop, so I’d at least be able to make it out when it got darker.  
         My shoes softly crackled on the rocks on the river bank.  I could feel my heart thudding heavily in my chest as I took each step.  Every once in a while, I would take a photo, sort of using the flash to make sure I wasn’t about to trip over something.  My camera would preview the last photo taken and things had been what I had expected.  Shadows cast off rocks, the river water shining, and trees looking eerie in the background.  I pointed my camera in front of me and the flash lit up the area.  I stared down at the camera to see the image it had produced. My eyes widened and my heart felt like it skipped several beats.  There floating over the river was a red balloon.  A red balloon with the words ‘I Love Derry’ written on it.  Instantly, I took another picture and the balloon was closer by a couple feet.
         “Oh, fuck my life.”  A shaky whisper slipped past my lips.  Something in me wanted to take another picture while the rest of me wanted to turn tail back to safety.  “You can do this.”  The words rattled with hesitation in my throat and slowly my finger pressed down on button to take another picture.  
         The flash was so much brighter this time and when it faded there in front of me was a clown.  A tall clown with a fang filled grin, a worn-out costume, red makeup that went past his eyes and on his nose, bright orange hair that curved upwards, and yellow eyes that pierced right through me.  The clown from the riverbank who had waved at me through the photo. In one of his hands was the red balloon. Slowly he leaned down to be eye level with me.  His bones cracked and squeaked loudly as he came down sending a shiver down my spine. Drool hung from his bottom lip and his fangs poked through.
         “You’re the one who’s been looking for me, aren’t you?” His voice pitched and distorted in the most random places.
        “F-For you?”  The smarter part of my instincts was screaming at me to book it but I was determined to get as much information as possible. 
         “I’m Pennywise, the Dancing Clown.”  He shook his neck, causing the bells hiding among the ruffles around his neck to jingle loudly.  The jingle didn’t seem to be friendly or playful though.  They were ominous.  Territorial like the warning of an animal.
        “I’m-” My sentence was cut short with his cackling laughter.
        “Roxanne.  I know everyone.”  His teeth grew longer.  “Run.” The distorted voice seemed to blanket over the forest, coating everything in dread.  There was a grotesque noising coming from him and I saw large spider legs coming through from somewhere in his back.
        “One thing first.”  With the last ounce of bravery I had I lifted my camera up, making sure the flash would be directly in his eyes as I hit the button.  
       After I hit the button, engulfing him in light I ran. My feet thudded against the rocks and my heart felt as it was screaming for me.  I remembered the flashlight I had slipped into my belt loop and turned it on. It still flashed on and off but at least I could see.  I zipped through the woods, ignore the sting of branches scratch across my skin.  I could hardly feel anything hurting with the amount of adrenaline running through my veins.  I heard a noise to my left and pointed the flashlight towards it.  Each time the flashlight flickered on, Pennywise would appear.  
       Each time he appeared he was becoming more horrific. I had seen so many crime scenes, so much blood and gore.  This though was so much different.  The horror at my heels could kill me.  I was pushing through the last few yards of the forest and I could finally get the scream that was in the pit of my stomach out.  It rang off the trees and joined in with that creatures demonic, crazed laughter. Quickly, I fumbled with my car keys to get it unlocked as it came into sight.  The lights lit up letting me know it was unlocked.  I could feel whatever it was right behind me, its hot breath on my neck and claws trying to catch me.  I refused to turn around to see what it looked like now.  At least by choice.  A few feet away from the car a clawed hand grabbed my bicep, flinging me around.  In a pained twirl, I fell to the ground and letting out a shriek.  I thought this was the end until I opened my eyes.
        He was gone.  No trace except the wound on my arm.  It was beginning to sting and a good amount of blood was coming out.  I limped carefully to my car, cautiously driving home.  I had left my camera around my neck.  I was thankful that it survived running and the fall.  I sat in my driveway just ignoring the stinging that was shooting in my arm. I knew I had to go clean it soon but something in me wanted to look at the photo I had taken before I ran.  I let out a sigh and sifted through my console storage for my hand gun.  If it came back I wanted to at least be protected in some way.  Leaned back in my seat I let out a sigh and shut my eyes.
        “I hope you got my good side, Roxxie.” Pennywise’s voice rang through my ears and my eyes shot open.  I looked into the back-window mirror and he was there, lounging in the back seat.  “I am quite handsome.”  His chuckle felt like it vibrated my whole car and a shiver went down my spine.
         “What do you want from me?”  I took in a deep breath, trying to keep my fear in check even though it probably was no use.
         “I just want to feed in peace is all.”  He leaned forward and his head was next to mine. “You seem like a sweet gal.  Would be a shame if I had to kill you or worse.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug and one of his clawed hands reached to the other side of my face, cupping my cheek. His tongue slipped from his mouth and it dragged across the gashes in my arm.  “A sweet gal indeed.  Go take care of your arm before I take a bite out of you.”
         Gripping my gun, I spun around in my seat and pointed it at him.  Or at least I would have if he was still there.  I turned back around and saw the time on the clock.  It was midnight and I had to work early the next day.  After putting my gun in it’s holster I headed inside and began to tend to my wound.  At least it was in an easy to hide place.  After seeing the state of my body in my full-length bathroom mirror I decided it’d be best to just call off, saying I was sick or something.  I shot a message to my boss, knowing he’d see it when he got up and just shoot me back an ‘ok’ response.  Once I was done with my long shower I laid in bed trying not to think of what happened.  With a shaky breath I eventually fell asleep, filled with nightmares.
@fuck-the-clown @hoe-for-daddywise @animelover130901 @jacc-daniels @dirtydaddywiseslut @skaravile @ihaveaseriousclownproblem @float-me-to-the-moon @pennywisethot @smileysam13579 @hoe-for-daddywise
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doggonneit · 6 years
Text
The Last Red Scribble | Part 1/2
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Pairing/Characters: Kuroo/Tsukishima
Rating: T for Teen
Warnings: Single Parent AU
A.N. This is a part of the KuroTsuki Gift Exchange 2017, written for @moonislander on Tumblr. Hope you enjoy!
Italics is Tsukishima. Bold is Kuroo.
[Read on AO3]
Monday PM
(2:33) I’m about to slam my head into the wall. (2:33) Tobio got into another fight. (2:34) He’s fucking five, how does he keep picking fights.  
(2:35) what a champ
(2:35) What the fuck, Akiteru. (2:35) You’re not supposed to say that.
(2:36) wrong number bud but legit (2:36) tobios got a future in cage fighting (2:36) whos tobio
(2:38) Oh, sorry. Wrong number.
(2:40) well dont leave me hanging (2:40) i need to know who to put my money on in the future
(2:41) Don’t make this weirder than it already is.
(2:41) :)))))
(2:42) Tobio’s my son.
(2:43) are you an old man (2:43) is that why you started texting me (2:44) STRANGER DANGER STRANGER DANGER
(2:45) What the fuck, no. (2:46) I messed up my brother’s new number. (2:46) Evidently.  
(2:46) eviDENTly (2:47) arent you all smart and proper (2:47) thats how i like em
(2:49) Are you seriously flirting with me over text? (2:49) You don’t know stranger danger at all. (2:50) I don’t have time for this.  
(2:53) :((((( (2:55) come back
(2:56) I have to deal with my son.
(2:56) what an adulty adult (2:57) tell tobio hes a fucken champ
.
Tuesday AM
(7:22) sooo (7:22) i know your brothers name and your sons name (7:22) but not your name
(7:25) …
(7:25) hint hint
(7:26) Have you seen the latest stranger danger campaign? (7:26) It’s got your face all over it.  
(7:27) you think youre being funny but my mates crack jokes about my ugly mug making children cry (7:28) would tobio cry if he ever saw me
(7:30) He doesn’t even know what you look like.
(7:31) *image attached*
(7:34) I really don’t have time for this. I’m getting Tobio ready for school.
(7:35) if life were a party youd be the clown that sucks all the fun away (7:35) XP
(7:36) Why are you making that face?
(7:36) you hurt my feelings so im sticking my tongue out at you
(7:38) No-one uses that emoji for hurt feelings.
(7:39) i just did (7:39) XP (7:39) oh look i just did it again (7:39) XP (7:39) and again look at me go
(7:42) All right, all right, I’ll ask. (7:44) Tobio says you look like you killed a cat.  
(7:44) how does someone even look like that (7:44) your son needs glasses (7:45) what do you think then (7:45) smouldering eyes wicked grin (7:45) admit it im pretty
(7:46) Yeah, pretty atrocious. (7:46) What’s with that hair?
(7:47) HI THIS IS KUROOS BEST FREIDN FOERVER BOKUTO PLS DONT METNION HIS BEHDEAD IT MAKES HM SELF CONSCOIUS
(7:47) Aww. Is Kuroo sulking now?
(7:47) sajfkdsjp (7:47) asdffhajlkkasdfghijkl
(7:48) I feel like I should be concerned. (7:50) I am actually concerned.  
(7:51) how do i get rid of a body
(7:51) What.
(7:51) how do i (7:51) get rid of (7:51) a body
(7:51) Cook him and serve him to the police who knock on your door asking for his whereabouts.
(7:52) babe thats brilliant (7:52) youre a committed accomplice now
(7:52) On a scale of 1-10, how often do you hit on nameless and faceless strangers over the phone?
(7:52) 1 (7:53) its only ever been you (7:53) *heart emoji*
(7:53) I’m flattered.
(7:53) we have a dilemma (7:54) you know my name and my face (7:54) ive lost the advantage (7:54) who are you o mysterious phone man
(7:54) You really want to know?
(7:55) yes!!
(7:55) Well (7:55) My name is (7:55) *middle finger emoji*  
(7:56) i am (7:56) fucking betrayed (7:56) my own accomplice
(7:57) :)))))
.
Wednesday PM
(4:17) *image attached* (4:17) fight gloves for tobio when he grows up lololol
(4:20) Don’t even joke about that.
(4:21) did he get into another fight (4:21) whatd he do steal another kids party pie
(4:22) He ruined someone’s sandcastle.
(4:22) that punk
(4:22) He also threw the bucket at their head and made them cry.
(4:23) holy shit (4:23) i know you cant see but im pissing myself laughing
(4:23) That’s the second time this month. (4:24) Is he going for a new record? How concerned should I be? (4:24) I should ask my brother for advice.  
(4:24) okay but in all seriousness (4:25) dont kids usually act out because theyre upset about things
(4:26) Yep.
(4:26) you sound like you know whats going on
(4:27) Yep.  
(4:27) is the thing not an easy fix
(4:28) Tobio can’t exactly move back into his old neighbourhood and old school.
(4:28) ohhh (4:28) i get that totally been there (4:29) though that happened to me in middle school so i handled it differently
(4:30) You mean you didn’t stomp on sandcastles and throw buckets at people’s heads? (4:30) Shocking.  
(4:31) real mature of me ayy (4:31) but its chill tobio just needs time to adjust
(4:32) He’s been living with me for four months already.
(4:33) hes trying to survive a new environment (4:33) go easy on him
(4:35) All good and well until he accidentally kills one of his classmates.
(4:35) what could he possibly do (4:35) nah dont answer that
(4:36) You’re not inspiring much confidence right now.
(4:37) okay hows this (4:38) the most dangerous thing in a school is a pencil (4:38) if he stabs it through someones eye (4:38) what are the chances of a five year old having that good of an aim
(4:39) We could be surprised.
(4:40) lets give tobio the benefit of the doubt (4:40) have i brought your fears to rest or nah
(4:50) You’re interesting to talk to, I’ll give you that.
(4:50) is that why youve kept talking to me despite the anonymous and rather suspicious nature of our relationship
(4:50) Sure.
(4:51) *heart eyes emoji*
.
Thursday PM
(6:44) ive been thinking
(6:46) Make sure you give yourself a break every ten minutes. We wouldn’t want to strain your mental capabilities.
(6:47) hush child i got something to say (6:47) about tobio sort of
(6:48) I’m listening.
(6:49) so yesterdays conversation made me go all introspective (6:49) and if all tobios doing is throwing things (6:50) the lil guy will go far in life (6:50) i mean when i was five i was eating sand
(6:51) Congratulations, you just tripped over the lowest bar society set for its most basic standards.
(6:51) savage i love it (6:52) bokuto just called me a masochist (6:52) he doesnt even know what that means i bet he learned it from akaashi
(6:54) … (6:55) Who’s Akaashi?  
(6:55) the most beautiful man to grace the earth and bokutos boyfriend (6:55) im not even kidding his face was sculpted by gods (6:56) *image attached*
(6:57) Wow.
(6:57) exactly (6:57) no one knows how bokuto snagged him (6:58) my moneys on witchcraft
(6:59) Have a little more faith in your Best Freidn Foerver.
(6:59) hes my best bro but he does NOT have that much game
(6:59) You misspelled Best Freidn Foerver.
(7:00) all right he types like an electrocuted toddler (7:00) hes there for me during the good bad and ugly (7:00) and i support him 100% (7:01) but theres no logical explanation for how he got akaashi
(7:01) Maybe he has charm.
(7:02) gasp (7:02) babe (7:02) did you just imply i dont have any charm
(7:03) I didn’t say anything of the sort but it’s an apt description.
(7:03) you really are a savage (7:04) totally my type just saying
(7:05) For all you know I’m a sixty year old man with whiskers and a pot belly.
(7:05) im a personality kinda guy anyway (7:05) so what do you look like
(7:07) Shh.
(7:07) ?
(7:07) Can you hear that?
(7:07) ??
(7:08) Stranger danger.
(7:08) DUDE COME ON (7:08) or are you actually a sixty year old man with whiskers and a pot belly (7:08) because no judgement if you are
(7:10) *image attached*
(7:11) holy shit (7:11) HOLYS HIT (7:11) AJGSFAJKALHHJKKKLLLL
(7:13) Uh. (7:14) Hello? (7:15) Are you there? (7:18) I’m actually kind of worried now.  
(7:20) Hi, this is Akaashi. Kuroo’s fine; he’s muttering to himself on the floor. (7:21) Something about being sculpted by gods and touched by angels?
(7:22) What the fuck.
(7:22) Nice selfie :)
.
Friday PM
(9:28) arms (9:28) abs (9:28) legs (9:28) sore
(9:31) Do I really want to know? (9:31) No, I don’t.  
(9:32) :( (9:32) i experienced life death and hell all in the same day
(9:33) Now I can’t not know.
(9:33) i had vball training for a match next week and it was torture (9:33) and when we thought it was done no (9:34) we had practice matches with alumni and it was torture round two (9:34) then i had coaching which i usually love (9:34) but the kids kept spiking balls at me (9:35) 10 POINTS IF YOU HIT HIS BODY 50 POINTS IF YOU HIT HIS HEAD 100 POINTS IF YOU HIT HIS NOSE
(9:36) You play volleyball?
(9:37) thats all you took from that
(9:37) I used to play volleyball in high school.
(9:37) wait are you serious (9:37) what position??
(9:38) Middle blocker.
(9:38) me too!! (9:38) what are the chances of us both playing vball and being middle blockers (9:39) this is destiny i feel it
(9:40) That was another lifetime ago lol.
(9:40) once a vball player always a vball player (9:40) how tall are you
(9:41) 195cm, why?
(9:43) 195 and yOU DONT PLAY VBALL (9:43) this is a crime (9:44) tell me tobio plays vball
(9:45) I... don’t think he’s ever tried it?
(9:46) the outrage (9:46) how could you (9:47) i just felt my heart crack (9:47) oohhh the pain
(9:47) Poor baby. Want me to kiss it better?
(9:47) i (9:47) ijakl
(9:48) ?? (9:50) Did you disappear on me again. (9:50) This seems to be a growing trend.
(9:51) Hi, this is Akaashi again. Kuroo is currently incapacifjskkl (9:51) WAHT DID U DO TO MY BSET FREIND FOREBER WHYS HE ALL RED N CHOKN ON HIS WORSD
(9:52) Oh. (9:52) Scroll up.
(9:52) OHO (9:53) OHOHO
.
Saturday AM
(11:10) my mates wont stop laughing at me (11:10) i live in a house of dicks (11:11) cant even escape them theyre on my team (11:11) i blame you
(11:15) Sucks to be you lol.
(11:15) are you taking pleasure in my pain
(11:15) It sounds wrong when you put it that way.
(11:15) ;) (11:16) i’m still upset though (11:16) make me feel better?
(11:17) You seem to think I possess the ability to feel pity. (11:17) I don’t.  
(11:18) you know what you do possess (11:18) the ability to feel annoyance (11:18) ! (11:18) ! (11:18) ! (11:18) ! (11:18) ! (11:18) is it annoying yet (11:18) ! (11:18) ! (11:18) ! (11:18) ! (11:18) !
(11:19) ALL RIGHT, STOP.
(11:19) victory
(11:20) What do you want.
(11:17) whats your name
(11:17) Are you serious.
(11:17) i wanna know
(11:18) You reek of desperation.
(11:18) not gonna change my mind
(11:19) …
(11:19) wanna do the whole !!! thing again
(11:21) Fine. (11:21) You’ll ask politely.
(11:21) dom huh (11:21) im into that (11:22) will you pretty please with a cherry on top tell me what your name is
(11:22) N (11:22) O (11:22) *heart emoji*
(11:24) i cant believe (11:24) how could you (11:24) youre so mean
(11:24) :)))))
(11:25) shouldve expected it (11:25) do you always play with peoples hearts like this
(11:25) I enjoy jerking you around. You make some pretty good entertainment.
(11:26) glad to be of service :’)
(11:26) I suppose I could throw you a bone.
(11:26) im not falling for it this time
(11:26) Tsukishima.
(11:27) …
(11:27) My name is Tsukishima.
(11:27) it is (11:27) up down left right with you
(11:27) Disappointed?
(11:28) NEVER WITH YOU (11:28) TSUKKIIII
(11:28) No. (11:28) Do not.  
(11:28) i love your name its beautiful like you
(11:29) I revoke your right to say my name ever again.
(11:29) TSUKKIIII (11:29) *heart eyes emoji*
(11:32) I have never regretted anything more in my life.
.
Sunday PM
(3:24) You said you have a volleyball match next week, right?
(3:28) is this a dream (3:28) are you actually texting me first
(3:29) Miracles abound today.
(3:29) yeah i have a match next week why
(3:29) I mentioned it to Tobio and he got really excited. (3:30) He made me explain everything. I spent hours talking about rules and moves.  
(3:30) i  knew that kid had the vball genes in him
(3:30) I even dug up some old practice tapes from high school. (3:31) He’s obsessed with setting.  
(3:31) hed get along with my setter (3:31) that arrogant ass (3:31) i love him though
(3:32) *image attached*
(3:33) what… is that
(3:33) Tobio’s lack of artistic talent.
(3:33) i hope you didnt tell him that
(3:34) He said it was you blocking and scoring the winning point.
(3:35) he drew a picture of me?
(3:35) He captured your likeness down to the last red scribble.
(3:35) omg… omg...
(3:37) It’s not that big of a deal.
(3:37) youre not ruining this for me (3:37) this is the best day of my life
(3:37) Remember when we talked about low standards?
(3:37) your son loves me
(3:38) He drew a picture of you.
(3:38) and how many other people has he drawn???
(3:38) …
(3:38) thought so (3:39) tell my biggest fan i said hello and thank you (3:39) its the prettiest picture ive ever gotten
(3:39) Don’t get nudes much, huh.
(3:40) wow (3:40) WOWW (3:40) that went beyond savage (3:40) that was straight up murder
(3:41) You like it.
(3:41) yeah im really wondering about that masochistic streak
(3:41) About that.
(3:42) ??
(3:42) I was thinking (3:42) If you were interested (3:42) I could help you explore that.
(3:44) i just dropped my fuckign phone (3:44) are you fucking with me right now
(3:45) Yes.
(3:46) i fucking hate you
(3:46) No, you don’t.
(3:46) no i don’t
(3:46) Why do you keep falling for these things.
(3:47) actually im falling for you
(3:47) Seriously.
(3:47) hope (3:47) its all i got buddy (3:49) is this going to be like last time when you said no but then changed your mind
(3:50) No.
(3:50) dammit
.
Monday PM
(7:18) happy one week anniversary babe (7:18) do i get a gift (7:18) eyebrow wiggle
(7:21) Did you just type -eyebrow wiggle- at me
(7:22) *video attached*
(7:23) I did not ask for a video of you wiggling your eyebrows.
(7:23) its my gift to you
(7:23) I’m so… grateful.
(7:24) cmon gift gift gift
(7:24) I don’t know, I don’t have anything. (7:24) Actually (7:25) *image attached*  
(7:25) omg is that tobio (7:25) hes so fucken cute wtf (7:26) look at those hamster cheeks (7:26) whats he eating
(7:26) Blueberry cupcake. (7:26) It’s his reward for behaving in school.  
(7:27) aww no fights today?
(7:28) His teacher said he engaged positively with other students. He was trying to play volleyball with them.
(7:28) omg thats adorable (7:28) i see where he gets it from (7:28) are you teaching him how to play
(7:30) I taught him how to receive but I’m rusty. (7:30) I should look into classes for him. (7:30) Do they even have classes for kids that young?  
(7:31) the rec centre where i coach does (7:31) idk about other places though
(7:31) Whereabouts is your rec centre?
(7:32) shh
(7:32) You’re not doing the stranger danger thing on me.
(7:32) do you hear that
(7:32) Can you hear my sigh travelling across the wind.
(7:33) STRANGER DANGER
(7:33) Are you done.
(7:33) my centres in tokyo lol
(7:34) It wouldn’t happen to be the Tokyo Sports and Recreation Centre?
(7:34) how did you know that (7:34) oh my god this is real (7:34) STRANGER DANGER
(7:36) It’s a twenty minute walk from my place.
(7:36) i know i just joked about stranger danger but should you really be telling me that
(7:37) Take it as proof that I don’t think you’re a predatory serial killer.
(7:37) thats the nicest thing youve ever said to me (7:38) *heart emoji* (7:38) well if youre interested the kiddy classes are wed 5pm and sat 10am (7:38) you can go to one or both
(7:40) Hmm.
(7:40) times no good?
(7:42) My brother has Tobio on both those days. (7:42) I’ll have to talk to him about this.  
(7:43) ahh dont wanna encroach on uncle nephew bonding time
(7:43) I don’t think Akiteru will mind-- he used to play volleyball too.
(7:43) how did you ever think tobio wouldnt be a vball player (7:44) its clearly in his genes
(7:44) Wishful thinking. I never really liked volleyball.
(7:45) what no (7:45) why
(7:46) It was just a school club. I only did it because it was something to do.
(7:47) you come into my house
(7:48) Lol.
(7:48) well hey its paying off now (7:48) i bet tobio looks at you like youre a god
(7:49) Yeah. (7:49) It’s the first time he’s really looked at me. (7:50) So thanks. (7:50) :)
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