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writingthingsisdifficult · 3 years

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Saving the world (Double booking pt 2)

I was asked to write a second part, and as inspiration struck, well… here it is.

They've shared a room. Now what?

If you like it, let me know :D

Word count: 5655

Part 1

_______________________________________________________________________

The light is seeping under the curtains, dragging you back to the conscious world, but you're not ready to get up just yet. So you squeeze your eyes shut and stretch your back. It's stiff as a board, and your cheek has seemingly set in a permanently squished position. The room feels stuffy and warm, and there's a soft noise you don't recognise at first. But when you finally open your eyes, you can't help but smile.

Everything's a bit blurry without your glasses, but there's no mistaking the man sleeping in the bed next to yours. His arm, which you suddenly notice isn't gloved, but a prosthetic, is hanging over the edge of the bed, and if you strain your imagination, it's almost stretched towards you.

It looks like he hasn't moved at all during the night. Neither have you when you come to think of it. When you stretch again, your neck cracks as if you were eighty, and it's a struggle to lift one leg over the other, though that might just be that you're still half asleep.

As you fumble for your glasses, Bucky opens his eyes and gives you a sleepy smile. "Good morning."

Your heart skips a beat, and it's as if you've forgotten all suitable responses to such an innocent greeting. "Yeah." That's what comes out of your mouth, and you groan.

"You sleep good?" He yawns and props up on his elbow.

"Mhm. Like a baby."

"Me too."

You grin and roll over on your back just as the loudest growl erupts from your stomach. Heat creeps up your neck and ears, and you mutter a soft "Sorry."

Bucky laughs. "Don't apologise for being hungry. What do you say we go get some breakfast?"

"I could eat."

After a quick shower and a couple of frustrating minutes picking an outfit, you really don't want to look like a slob in front of Bucky, you're both seated in the restaurant, devouring the bacon and eggs like your lives depend on it.

The conversation is light. You're slowly getting to know each other. "I'm freelancing for the government," Bucky says and gulps down his orange juice. "It's all really boring, though."

You nod and stuff your mouth with bacon. "I'm sure it isn't. But paperwork, am I right?" you add with a chuckle.

Nodding, he wipes his mouth and takes another bite. "Mhm. How about you?"

"Oh, it's not very interesting. I freelance too, I guess. Right now I've been hired to design a calendar with paintings from the city. It's not well paid, but it's fun."

"So you're an artist? May I see some of your work?"

Suddenly you feel a bit self-conscious. That's weird. You haven't had doubts about your art in forever. "I've got some photos in my phone." You hesitate for a second, then fish it out and unlock it. Scrolling down, you find the series of paintings you did last spring. Green and lush, you get a pang of longing for the fresh air and colourful flowers. The contrast is vast from the grey city.

"Wow, these are good!" Bucky exclaims and starts gushing over your lines and colour and the composition, and you feel your ego inflating with every word. All you can do is sit there with a stupid grin on your face, and a pulsing heat in your cheeks, while he builds you up like he's a professional.

You've totally forgotten the time when the staff tells you that the restaurant, unfortunately, is closed now, but that you're welcome back for dinner later. With many an apology, the two of you get up and head to the lobby, where you stay, talking for almost an hour before you remember why you are here in the first place.

"Sorry," you say, and mean it. "I need to get some work done before the light goes. I was thinking of heading down to the harbour today. See if the water can inspire me."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess." Bucky looks down on his feet and gives you a small smile. Then he looks up again, his eyes shining, competing with the glorious smile that grows on his lips. "Do you mind if I come with you? I mean… you don't have to say yes, I just…"

"No, of course." You're relieved that he asked, letting you out of asking him yourself. "Some company would be lovely. Just gotta get my stuff. Meet you back here in ten minutes?"

He nods and sighs almost imperceptibly once you've turned away, watching as you almost skip towards the elevator. A tiny voice in the back of his head warns him that he has tripped and is going to fall hard if he doesn't get a grip soon, but he ignores it. The feeling is too pleasant to care just now.

The next few days you establish a routine of sorts. Bucky knocks on your door, asks to sleep next to you, you say yes, and you wake up, turned towards each other. After breakfast, you head out into the city, sometimes he's leading the way, sometimes you have a plan, and you spend the day drawing and talking and without realising it, falling hard for him. Every evening you have dinner in one of the restaurants near the hotel, and every evening you forget what is happening around you, and all you can focus on is Bucky.

_____________________________________________________________________

The sun is shining. A bird is singing in the tree behind you. You can barely hear the traffic from the road outside the park. Bucky is lounging on the grass, chewing on a straw, and you've been drawing him in secret for the past two hours, your original subject completely forgotten and rejected. When he looks up at you, his face is filled with happiness. "This is nice," he says, careful to mask his full joy.

"Yes, it is," you reply, quickly hiding the drawing under a sketch of the bridge and skyline.

He sits up and looks like he wants to say something, but he closes his mouth instead. After a small pause, he gets up and holds out his hand. "Let's go grab something to eat."

"Okay," you whisper, breathless from the feel of his hand in yours. "Lead the way."

He takes you to a small café at the edge of the park, explaining that it's famous for its fries, and they've got the bestdipping sauce, you just have to try it.

You're in the middle of the meal, laughing at a joke, when a shadow interrupts. Looking up, you hear Bucky mutter a curse under his breath, and you feel a pinprick of fear in your neck. He's glaring at the stranger, and the stranger surprisingly returns the look.

"Um…" You look between Bucky, sat at the table with a curly fry sticking out from the corner of his mouth, staring daggers, to the man who just interrupted your lunch. The truth smacks you in the head with force. Holy shit! That's Captain America. Captain freaking America! And it slowly dawns on you who Bucky really is.

The glass you just picked up slides back to the table, sprite sloshing over the sides as it hits, but you don't realise your hand is cold and wet. All you can focus on is that your roommate for the last week is… Bucky Barnes, AKA The Winter Soldier. Yeah. You try very hard to swallow the food in your mouth, but it's so dry, and forcing it makes your throat ache.

Said soldier quickly chews the curly fry and swallows thickly. "What do you want, Sam?"

Sam hands him a pad, and upon reading the contents, Bucky's frown deepens.

"It's very nice to meet you," Sam says, his shining smile lighting up the whole room. "I'm Sam, by the way."

"Y/N," you reply, still unaware that the hand you're using to shake Captain America's hand with is wet and slightly sticky. Actually, you're kinda unaware of your surroundings altogether.

Sam laughs, making Bucky look up from the message, scowls at Sam, then returns to his reading. "So you're the one who's keeping Bucky busy, huh?" He winks, and you feel that heat creeping up the back of your neck. "From the look on your face, I'd say you didn't know who you're having lunch with, right?"

You nod, squeaking a confirmation.

Sam laughs. "I thought after the whole Flag Smashers case, everybody knew who Bucky was."

Your ears burn, and you breathe a little faster now. Of course, you've been to the exhibit at the Smithsonian, and of course you know about Steve Rogers' best friend, it just never connected in your brain that this super sweet man is a WWII hero and assassin.

Your eyes flick from his prosthetic arm and up to his face. "Uh… I'm just not super into the whole celebrity thing?" you offer, blurting out the first thing that pops into your head.

Snickering, Sam turns to Bucky. "And you didn't tell her?" There's a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Bucky picks on a stain on the table before setting up a defiant face. "It didn't come up." And he wants to add And by the way, how do you go about saying Oh, and FYI I'm a former assassin and murderer, to a woman you really want to get to know better?

He looks so uncomfortable, you get a strong urge to hug him, but now you're uncertain of all this. What if the two of you are against the rules? Wait, what are you, really? Friends? Accidental roommates? You like Bucky. You really like Bucky, and you had kinda hoped it would grow into something… more, but now… Swallowing the lump in the back of your throat – that was an unexpected reaction – you smile flatly. "Are, are you allowed to, to… I mean, can you be friends with…" You swallow again. "Civilians?"

Sam's eyes widen for a split second, and somehow you feel as though he can see right through you. Then he laughs, and all the tension around the table dissipates. "Of course. We're human, Bucky's human, as difficult as that is to believe. Of course we're allowed to have friends, relationships, family. Wouldn't be much of a life without it, would it? But expect them to do a background check on you, hell, they probably already know what you ate for dinner on your twelfth birthday."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but I'm afraid I have to whisk your boyfriend away for a while. There's a situation."

"We're… we're not…" You have to admit that thought feels good, but really, any hope you had has been well and truly smashed.

Bucky gets up and smacks the pad at Sam. "I'll see you later?"

"I'll be here," you reply with fake confidence. "Please be safe. Both of you," you add with a small smile.

"You too," Bucky says softly. "Be careful if you go out after dark. It's not as safe as you think here."

That makes you snort. "It's me. I don't even like people, what am I supposed to do outside after dark, huh? Don't worry. I'll probably stay in my room and paint all day anyway."

He mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "good", but it's hard to hear over Sam. "I'll take care of him," he laughs, ducking under Bucky's hand as he swats at his head. "Come on, Buck. Let's roll."

"Be safe," you mutter again, looking after them as they head to the black, unmarked car waiting by the flower shop on the corner. It's as if all colour drains from your vision.

_______________________________________________________________________

The first sip of coffee feels divine; just what you need to wake up after spending another night without Bucky. It has been another restless night. You tossed and turned and couldn't settle properly. And the dreams… You'd rather not think about them. Never before has your brain produced such chaotic absurdities, such eldritch horrors, but to be honest you're not really surprised. Sleeping next to Bucky; something just clicked. You smile into your cup, feeling calmer just thinking about it. It's weird how quickly you got used to his presence, and how wrong it feels when he isn't there.

But you don't get to enjoy your drink for long. Before you've even finished the second sip, someone shoves you hard from behind. The coffee spills over the sidewalk, painting the concrete and splashing all over your shoes. "Hey! Watch where you're going!" you bark, turning to confront whoever pushed you. But before you can even see them, they pull a bag over your head.

Panic rises in you, and you scream until your throat feels raw. Someone smacks you across the mouth, and the shock and pain shuts you up. Your lip thumps: it's split, you can taste the blood now. Tears stream down your cheeks, the soft fabric of the bag clings to your skin. Feeling the darkness caress your mind, the world starts folding in over itself. Still you possess enough awareness to kick the person holding you. They yelp and swear, resulting in a sharp rap over your ear. Your head is ringing.

A pair of strong arms pick you up as if you weigh nothing, and haul you along, struggling with your flailing arms and legs. There's a metallic clang, like a van door opening, then you're half lifted, half pulled up, all while screaming and cursing, hoping someone – anyone – will hear.

Someone speaks a language you don't recognise; your sleeve is pushed up and there's a sharp prick in your arm. Seconds later your brain starts spinning. The faint light that seeps through the weaving of the bag blinks like a starry sky.

You sway back and forth, feeling off kilter and fuzzy, as the voices around you grow all garbled and muted. Someone pushes you backwards, but before you hit the floor, you're out. As the world fades from your consciousness, you just wish you could have seen Bucky one more time.

When you come to, your head is pounding, your mouth is dry, and everything is dark. You try to move, but your hands are shackled, and your feet are bound to whatever you're sitting on. At least you're right side up, you think, before the situation dawns on you, and the contents of your stomach threatens to make an appearance. You swallow thickly. God, your mouth is so dry. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, and there's not enough liquid to even wet your lips. All you can do is grimace, feeling how they crack and pop. It stings. The taste of metallic, rusty blood coats your tongue.

Your throat itches, so much so that you can't even speak, but you can cough. Hard, like explosions in your head, and it's enough for you to lose your breath.

Something floppy is shoved into your hands.

"It's upside down, you idiot!" someone shouts, and the paper is turned.

Panic surges through your body, and your throat constricts, increasing your coughing. Your heart is racing, but everything happens so fast you just can't process it. Someone removes the bag from your head. The light burns in your eyes, and the shock stops your coughing instantly. Everything is white. There's voices, and movement, but you can't see anything clearly, and for a moment you wonder if you've lost your contact lenses. Slowly your vision returns, but they all keep to the shadows, and they've covered their faces, so you can't make out any details. The buzzing in your ears almost drown out every sound in the room.

"Look straight ahead," they command, and by some miracle you actually manage to move your head. "Keep your eyes open. Ready!"

There's a bright flash, someone else yells "Got it!" and then, in a flurry of motions you're untied, dragged through a dark hallway and unceremoniously dropped on the floor. The door clangs ominously behind you, and you freeze, waiting for someone to grab you or hurt you. There's no one in the room, but you remain in the floor, rubbing your wrists and trying to calm your breathing.

It's cold in your cell, room, whatever people call it, but at least you've got a blanket, and they've fed you, so there's that. But no matter how many times you've asked, nobody tells you anything.

You're over the initial shock now, and the fear has begun to settle into anger, but you're too numb to react.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this to me? I'm no one, never been important in my whole life, hey, someone please say something." Silence. You bang on the door, not sure what you're hoping for. In the back of your mind you know it's risky, but you need to know. The silence is making the walls come closer. You lick your lip. It's bleeding again.

You figure your friendship with Bucky has something to do with your current predicament, but you're not sure exactly what they hope to achieve. It's not like you're best friends or anything, but maybe what you have is enough for him to come for you. That thought sends an electric jolt straight to the small of your back. For a moment you allow yourself to hope, to imagine him blasting through the door and marching in with murder in his eyes, angels singing, and the light surrounding him like a halo.

You laugh grimly. What are even the odds of him finding out where you are? Does he even care? He is the Winter Soldier, after all. He's probably got better things to do, he's busy saving the world, no doubt.

_______________________________________________________________________

Bucky smiles as he walks through the hallway, the ugly carpet muting the urgency in his steps. He can't wait to see you again. It's only been four days, but it feels like forever so the moment he got the all-clear after mission report, he made Sam drop him off at your hotel.

A short walk later he's standing outside your room, heart in his throat and arm outstretched, ready to knock. His stomach dances, pure happiness courses through him. It's been so long since he felt like this; he swears he can almost feel it in his metal arm.

A soft knock. No answer. He knocks again, harder this time. Still no answer. It's only a few minutes past eleven, you won't be asleep yet. You never fall asleep before midnight.

Suddenly it's like someone's poured a bucket of ice water over him. Putting an ear against the door, he listens like some kind of creep, but the room is silent. Maybe you're out. But that doesn't make sense either. It's too dark to get any proper work done, and you're not one for night clubs, or so you've said. Could you have checked out? Bucky's heart skips a beat. What if you're gone? But… wouldn't you at least have left him a message?

Turning on his heel, he marches back to the elevator as if he's got the devil on his tail. There's a really nasty feeling growing in his gut, something he just can't afford to think about now.

He presses the elevator button multiple times, but it takes its sweet time, so instead, he heads to the stairs, taking several steps at once, then skips the steps altogether and jumps over the railing, landing with a heavy thud on the ground floor.

There's a tenseness to his stride as he walks to the front desk, feeling more and more anxious with every breath. He never thought he'd feel this way again; that pit in his stomach and the growing stone in his chest. Last time, he was on a plane, heading for Italy in 1943, not knowing what was waiting for him.

"Excuse me," he says, rather gruffly, spooking the receptionist, though how she didn't hear him stomping through the lobby is a mystery. His own ears buzz loudly, and it's a miracle he can hear her at all.

"Good evening. How may I help you?" She smiles in that professional way people do when they're interrupted and don't really want to talk.

Bucky glances at the reflection in the glass wall behind her. Solitaire. He shakes his head to clear it a bit. "Um, yeah. Is there a message for me? For James Barnes or maybe Bucky."

She looks through the papers on the desk and shakes her head. "Sorry."

He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. "Okay. Don't suppose you could tell me if Y/N has checked out of room 508?" His brows furrow, but he tries to smile anyway.

Another head shake. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm not allowed to disclose that kind of information." She looks briefly at her screen, then back up at Bucky, fake smile plastered on her face.

Bucky bites his tongue and swallows the rage that's building in him. It's not the receptionist's fault. She doesn't understand. But then he gets an idea. "Right, of course," he says, making his voice sweeter. "But maybe you will allow me to leave her a message?"

"Certainly. Let me grab a pen and paper for you."

So you haven't checked out. From the look on her face, the receptionist doesn't realise she's confirmed his suspicions. Well, he'll leave a message just in case, but it's time for drastic measures.

Outside it's dark now. Low clouds are threatening with rain. No one sees the dark figure slipping around the corner and jumping to grab the lowest rung of the fire ladder. Bucky easily hoists himself up, and climbs to the fifth floor, keeping to the shadows and making as little noise as possible. He knows where the window to your room is, and in less than a minute he's standing on the tiny balcony, peering in.

The room looks untouched. The bed is made, your stuff is all there. There's an almost finished portrait on the sketch pad on the desk; a smiling, content picture of himself. Nothing is missing except you. Bucky is three seconds from losing it.

A cold raindrop hits the back of his neck, drawing him from his haze. Soon the sky has opened up, and he's blasted with icy water. It soaks through his jeans, and drips from his hair into his eyes. Without looking back, he slides down the fire ladder and lands in a puddle. He doesn't know what to do next. Maybe Sam knows, so he ducks back into the hotel to get out of the rain, but before he can make the call, he's interrupted by the receptionist.

"Mr Barnes, I apologise. I didn't see this before. Someone left this for you." The woman hands him a large, brown envelope. All of a sudden he's transported back in time; drowning in flashes of memories of past missions, but he shakes himself out of it. Leaning on the column by the door, he opens the envelope.

There's nothing in there but a photo. It makes his stomach turn, and for the first time since he's been free, he has to fight the rage of the Winter Soldier, expanding, threatening to explode and send him on a vengeance fuelled killing spree. "When? Do you know who delivered it?" His voice is darker than usual, and the woman steps back just from the sound.

"I'm sorry," she squeaks. "It's been here for a couple of days, I think. I wasn't here when it was delivered." She hurries back behind her counter, putting a safe distance between them.

Bucky adjusts his stance, and forces his voice to sound kinder. "Thank you. Is there somewhere I can make a phone call, undisturbed?"

She nods and points to a nook behind the oversized fern in the corner. There's a sliding glass door that will provide some privacy.

Turning the envelope over in his left hand, Bucky is careful to not leave any more fingerprints on it. It is unmarked, but he knows people who can read things that no one else can see.

Whipping out his phone, he dials the first number in the contact list. He doesn't realise it, but he's shaking. The four seconds it takes for Sam to pick up are an excruciating eternity, and Bucky grips the door handle to keep himself from running off without a plan.

Before he can even say hello, Bucky wheezes: "They've got her, Sam!"

"Who?"

"Y/N! They've taken her!" He closes his eyes. The photo has burned into his mind.

"I'm on my way."

Bucky relaxes his grip on the door. There's a dent in the metal, and that makes him even angrier. They've made him lose control. He curses as he exits the tiny room, pacing over the floor, waiting for the voice of reason to arrive.

Being Sam, being Captain America, opens a lot of doors, so when he shows up at the hotel, requesting to look through the surveillance tapes – though it really is a demand; he's got a way with words, Bucky muses, thinking back to when he realised that what he first took as being soft, really isn't soft at all. Anyway, they all fawn over each other, fighting to be the one to give Cap access. Bucky can hardly watch.

"Give us a few minutes," Sam says with a smile, settling in front of the computer.

"Of course." The manager bows and closes the door.

Then Sam turns to Bucky. "Okay. When did you see her last?"

"Four days ago, right before we left on that goddamn mission." He wants to beat himself that he exposed you to danger, and he resists the urge to take out his irritation by slapping Sam over the head. Instead he settles on a flat, emotionless that he hopes conveys all his frustration.

"Right, so somewhere after last Thursday, then." Sam pushes a button, selects the right floor and presses play. Nothing happens for a while, and he pushes a new button, making the footage speed up.

"There!" Bucky shouts, pointing at the screen. There you are. Leaving your room with a large bag over your shoulder. Bucky smiles in spite of his fear. A soft expression on your face and your trusty art supplies at your side. Everything looks normal.

Fast forwarding through the footage, nothing out of the ordinary happens. You return around seven, looking a little bit tired, but happy enough. Food is brought to your room an hour later, and you don't go out again that night.

"Sensible girl," Sam comments, drawing Bucky out of his thoughts.

"Yeah. But she didn't know how much danger she was in."

The night passes in a blur. A drunk couple stumbles through the hallway around two in the morning, but other than that it's quiet, until you leave again around 10am, again with your bag over your shoulder. You look tired, yawning and dragging your feet. The bounce in your step is gone, Bucky notices, and he wonders if it has anything to do with your abduction.

They keep fast forwarding, but when the time stamp shows 11.30pm, Bucky's chest plummets. He knows you're not coming back.

Sam looks at him. “Calm down, man. You look like you’re about to explode!” he hisses, putting his hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky shakes him off and glares. “Because I’m this close.”

“But that won’t do her any good, will it? We gotta keep our cool, don’t do anything rash.” Sam's voice is still calm. Bucky doesn't know how he does it.

"Fine." Bucky takes a deep breath, just how his therapist taught him. "Show me what direction she went."

Sam clicks and drags the front camera onto the screen. You stop outside for a few minutes, then head down the street towards the city centre. They follow you on the screen until you disappear from view.

There's a shoe shop on the corner where you turned, so after thanking the hotel manager for the help, they follow your moves through the city. The shoe shop doesn't have a quality video, but it's enough to recognise you. Tracking you through the streets feels like an endurance hunt, Bucky thinks, impatient to find out who took you and where you are. That's all he can focus on: to get you back. And god have mercy on your kidnappers if you're not okay. Eventually Sam and Bucky stop at a small restaurant, but they don't have surveillance at all.

"Okay. Let's head to that Starbucks," Bucky says, nodding across the road. "They're bound to have surveillance, right?"

Sam rolls his shoulders. "Let's go."

The video shows three large figures, lurking in the shadows in one of the side streets. They're watching as you enter the café, and when you exit with a large coffee in hand, the gang is ready. The footage jumps a bit, but it captures the terror in your face, and Bucky feels like throwing up. You're hauled into a waiting van, it's an unmarked, normal van, but as it speeds away, luck strikes. The camera got a clear shot of the number plate.

Bucky lets Sam handle the rest. He can't shake the guilt, the pit in his stomach that grows larger and larger. And his anger grows too. Why didn't anybody react, nobody can convince him that nobody heard or saw anything. He watches as Sam talks on the phone, already mentally punching your kidnappers to a pulp. The metal arm flexes involuntarily.

Sam puts down the phone and turns to Bucky. "Okay, so here's what they told me: The van isn't connected to anything, they didn't even have a name for me. It's probably a fake number plate. But they said it's been spotted driving to and from a warehouse not too far from here. Let's go suit up while we're waiting for the address."

Bucky exhales. They better hurry up with the address. You've been in captivity for far too long already.

_______________________________________________________________________

It's quiet in the building now. You don't know what time it is; they've taken all your stuff, but you know it's late. Your eyes sting, both from exhaustion and from wanting to cry, not to mention your contacts are getting dry, but you refuse to remove them – not being able to see would terrify you. But neither sleep nor tears come. Sitting on the cot, wrapped in the blanket they thankfully provided, you are too wound up to relax enough to sleep. What if someone comes in while you're out? There's not much chance to defend yourself, but at least if you're awake you can try to put up a fight.

How long have you been here? It's hard to tell. After the first shock they've pretty much left you alone. Except for the interrogation a few hours later. They kept asking you about where Bucky is, what he's doing, details on his mission, but you told them, truthfully, that you don't know anything. And they seem to believe you. But they still won't let you go. You sigh and pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders. Even if you knew everything you wouldn't have told them anything, but you didn't say that out loud.

Suddenly there's a loud bang reverberating through the walls. Instinctively you flinch, trying to make yourself smaller. Your blood roar in your ears, and it feels like your heart is trying to beat its way through your rib cage. There's a pause – the silence is deafening, then someone yells. You hear gunshots. Heavy boots rush past your door. It's torture just listening to the fight, not knowing what will happen. What if there's a fire? Or what if you're abandoned here? Is this how you're gonna die?

The fight is getting closer. You drag the blanket over your head, locking your arms around your neck. Unfortunately it doesn't mute the sounds, and you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. Slowly the fight dies down, and for a moment everything is calm. You feel woozy, grateful that you're already sitting down, and you steel yourself for what comes next.

The door opens. Heavy boots slaps against the hard floor. Someone blocks out the light, and you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder, making you flinch and whimper.

A soft voice whispers in your ear. "Y/N?"

You forget to breathe again.

"Y/N," the voice repeats, coaxing you out of your makeshift cocoon.

You look up, and into the eyes of the man you never thought you'd see again. His face is blood-spattered, and his expression is a murderous rage, but the moment your eyes meet, he softens. "Bucky," you breathe, folding yourself out, and reaching for him like a toddler.

He scoops you up, holding you close as you begin to sob into his neck, and he rocks you back and forth until you calm a bit. "Are you hurt?"

Shaking your head, you climb down from his lap and looks over at Sam, hovering by the door. There's a look in his eyes that you can't quite decipher.

"You're bleeding," Bucky says, touching your lip gingerly.

"Oh." You don't know what else to say, as he helps you up on your feet. His arm stays around your shoulders all the way out into open air, and you lean into his embrace. The building is littered with bodies, some are definitely dead, others are being detained by soldiers dressed in black. Your knees buckle from the sight.

"Hey, I've got you," Bucky murmurs into your hair.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For coming to get me."

"Of course," Sam says, offering you a reassuring smile. "Why shouldn't we?"

You exhale shakily through your nose. "I thought you were busy saving the world and all."

Bucky pulls you closer.

"Don't you know?" Sam asks quietly, so no one else can hear. "You are his world."

_______________________________________________________________________

@schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte

#bucky barnes x reader #marvel fan fiction #fanfic #female reader #fluff #angst #marvel

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abreathofthewild · 4 years

Text

Morning Showers

Synopsis: You and Thor enjoy a morning shower together.

Words: 2269 or roundabouts

Rating/Warnings: M for mature, SMUT. Filthy by my standards? All below the cut.

About: Firstly, don’t @ me. Man, I Feel Like A Woman! and Breathe are two of the best. Secondly, I want to thank @spacelabrathor for giving me the go-ahead on Cowboy Thor. Thirdly, I want to thank @peachyteabuck for giving me this specific idea. I wanted to inspire myself to get writing on the actual Cowboy Thor story, I Need A Hero, and thought this might do the trick. Went from 0 to 100 real quick, my first time writing smut so be kind. And fourthly, thank you to all the countless people ( @helahades I’m looking at you) that have been so supportive and so hype about this story. Hope this little snapshot does it for you until the full thing comes out!

“Mm, gotta get up now. ‘s 5:45. Gotta feed the chickens or they’ll riot.” Your voice is muffled as you speak into Thor’s shoulder. There have been quite a few things you’ve learned about him since that first kiss. Like how he loves to give hugs from behind whenever the two of you are in the kitchen. Or how he loves romanticizing the little things like having a good cup of coffee. Or how he absolutely loves being the little spoon. He loves being the big spoon too but he always gives a quiet hum of contentment whenever the two of you lay how you are now: him on his side, you right against his back. Your legs are tangled; one arm is slung over his waist and the other is tucked up to his shoulder blades, your face resting somewhere near his neck.

“Fivemoreminutes,” he rumbles back and somehow the sound of his voice reverberating back to you sends chills from your head to your toes. You wiggle your legs and then finally untangle them, trying to ignore how the wood floor is cold under your feet as you sit at the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The sun peeks through the curtains fluttering in the early morning breeze creating a warm invitation to start your day. Already the roosters are crowing outside and you can hear distant animal noises coming from the pasture. It paints such a wonderful picture. You feel like you’re the subject of some well-loved sketch, one not done by any famous artist but one that sits on a mantle and is passed down through families. A picture that to most would look so normal but to you feels like you’re living for the first time.

“Okay, you take your five more minutes. I for one, need to take a shower.” You let the words hang in the air. They are sort of an invitation. But Thor continues to sleep, slow even breaths emanating from his chest. Oh, well. You flip on the switch in the bathroom and hook your phone up to the Bluetooth speaker there. A small upgrade you had made fairly quickly was putting speakers in almost every room of the house. You needed your music.

Today’s lineup starts with a song that could get anyone on the dance floor. You think you remember the singer’s name being Shania Twain. The music subscription you use has been suggesting a whole lot more country music as of late and you absolutely do not mind. You brush your hair out as the water warms up; it sends out great puffs of steam that completely cloud out your reflection in the mirror. You sing quietly along with the music.

Let's go girls, come on! I'm going out tonight, I'm feelin' alright. Gonna let it all hang out.

As soon as you step over the edge of the tub into the warm water, you feel instantly more awake. The steady stream over your head, shoulders, and back is invigorating. A list forms in your head as you lather the shampoo in your hair of the things the two of you need to get done today. The thoughts lining up in your brain are completely different than the words tumbling out of your mouth.

“Oh, oh, oh, I want to be free yeah, to feel the way I feel. Man! I feel like a woman!” You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t hear Thor enter the bathroom, don’t hear his sweatpants hit the floor next to your pajama shorts and tank top. It isn’t until you hear the deep timbre of his voice join in on the lyrics that you realize he’s in the same room. You clap a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from giggling. There is something so cute about the juxtaposition of this cowboy, this man singing along with the song. A huge grin forms itself on your face as you part the shower curtain enough to look out at him. He’s standing at the sink stark naked brushing his teeth. You let your eyes wander over every part of him unashamedly.

“See somethin’ you like darlin’?” The implication there makes heat pool low in your belly as you nod. You silently hold out your hand and feel fire leap through your veins when he grins and steps forward. The shower is small and he is big but when he steps into the space with you, it makes the size differences even more obvious. His shoulders, his chest, the sheer size of him makes it difficult to breathe. You look up at him through water studded lashes as he gently slicks the hair back from your face. An entirely new song has started playing and it brings a slow smile across your face.

I watch the sunlight dance across your face and I’ve never been this swept away…

“Figured I should probably get up too. Don’t want to lose even five minutes with you.” Your heart is thumping in your chest as the rising sun catches the frosted glass above the shower just right, setting his blue eyes in soft light. And yeah, you’ve never been so swept away. There’s no to-do list running through your head anymore. As far as you’re concerned, there’s nothing outside of this little space. This moment in time here with him. You stand up on your tiptoes and lean in, getting lost in the rush as your lips meet. It’s a slip of tongues, soft and slow then deep and hot. He smiles against your mouth. “Good mornin’ to you too.” Gooseflesh rises on your body as he walks forward into you, forward until your back is against the wall.

“Can’t be in here too long,” he continues as his mouth moves from your lips to your neck. Your pulse is racing just underneath your skin and when he sucks hard there it draws a gasp from deep in your chest. He hums against that point and it vibrates all the way through to your core. He hasn’t shaved in a little while after you had mentioned recently that you liked the scruff and now you were so glad you had as he kisses a trail from your neck to your sternum to your breasts. The rough scratch of his almost-beard is heaven. It leaves your skin feeling raw but in the best sort of way. He pauses for a moment, his hot breath skittering across your pebbled nipple and you look at him in feign frustration. “Maybe, I shouldn’t,” he groans, tracing one with his fingers. You brace your hands on his broad shoulders, your breathing coming fast and erratic from just this. Is that even possible? “What was it you said?” One hand moves lower, stuttering across your wet skin, to grasp your hip. “That’s right. ‘The chickens will riot’.”

'Cause I can feel you breathe. It's washing over me. And suddenly I'm melting into you...

You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers twining in his air, and buck your hips upward, slightly arching you back. His cock is already hard and when it slips against your thigh, you feel it twitch and Thor lets out a small grunt. Checkmate.

“The chickens can wait.” The movement extracts another grunt as you take his cock in your hand and run a thumb across the tip; it’s already beaded with precum and you lick your lips. That gets an immediate reaction from him as he gives in, leans in and takes a nipple in one mouth and grasps the other in his hand. “Shiiiit,” you hiss as he continues until you’re shaking, every nerve ending sparking with lightning.

It’s no surprise that you’re slick at the center of you and when he drops to his knees kissing as he goes, your heart skips a couple beats. He looks up at you and as difficult as it is to breathe, you feel emotion swell behind your ribcage. There’s lust in his eyes, his pupils blown. But there’s a connection there you’ve never felt with anyone before. Just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, it’s gone as he grips one hip in his hand slings the other leg over his shoulder.

He leans in and traces slow circles around your clit with his tongue and if it weren’t for the fact that he was supporting you, your knee would have buckled. You card your fingers through his hair as his tongue moves from your clit to the entrance of your cunt. You whisper his name on a keen as he picks up the pace. There’s a distant thought that none of the men you’ve been with before knew how to eat you out like this: like they were praying, like there was nowhere else they’d rather be than to have their face between your legs. You cant your hips forward, your thighs shaking. You know there’s going to be a burn from his five o’clock shadow but it will be worth it. Just like the bruises that are going to form where his hands are holding tight. The feeling swells and trips along your bones like a livewire. You’re a gasping mess, your hands gripping his hair, pulling at it and when your climax rips through you he’s standing already, gently bracing your legs apart and sliding into you, the breath hissing from his lips.

It still catches you by surprise, not just the size of him but how it feels to be filled by him. A filthy moan spills from your lips. You squeeze around him as he utters a single drawn-out fuck before he starts moving. It’s slow, delicious friction as he ruts into you. The slide of his cock in your cunt is like velvet and your only option is to hold on, your arms slung around his shoulders (barely). He adjusts, lifting you so your legs wrap around him too and despite the water streaming off the both of you it’s like you weigh nothing and then he’s moving quicker, pistoning up and in and oh god, it’s like the world has shifted off its axis because he’s hitting that spot just right.

You can already feel the second orgasm spiraling up up up and when you feel it snap everything goes blinding white, sparks skipping across your vision. It’s hard to tell whether you’re wet from the shower or wet from the mess you’ve made around his cock. You’re clinging to him, a ragged cry ripping from your throat as your back is molded to the shower wall. Thor’s still going, chasing his own release and you can tell it’s not far away because already his hips are snapping an irregular rhythm and his breathing is harsh and short. When he cums, his mouth drops open and his hand smashes into the wall next to you. He spills his seed inside of you, each jerk of his hips pressing another crashing gasp from your lungs even when you thought there was no more air left. The last movement of his hips as he slips out of you leaves a trail of cum hot down your thigh. You trail your finger through it and slide it into your mouth, tasting him.

The high is fading away but as soon as you do that, a flush creeps over his face and his eyes go wide. His nostrils are flared. He shuts the water off and opens the shower curtain, allowing you to step passed him. You ignore the small ring of disappointment that flares through you as you grab a towel from its hook near the door. He takes it from you though and pauses for a moment as you turn back to look at him. The water droplets that are still caught in his hair drip from the curling ends and land on his shoulders and run little rivers down his chest. He’s so close again. The smell radiating off of him is intoxicating; the scent of warm wet skin fresh from the shower mixed with musk is so undeniably male it makes your mouth water. He reaches out to cup your face, and you lean into it with a deep breath.

I can feel the magic floating in the air. Being with you gets me that way.

“I don’t think you’ll be needin’ that just yet,” he says on a growl and you have about .5 seconds to acclimate as he lifts you with a wolfish smile. You let your head loll back with a laugh as he sets you on the bed and climbs over you. There’s that look again. It makes an entirely new feeling break across your lungs, ballooning up and out. Love. “The chickens can wait.” You nod quickly.

The chickens can definitely wait.

#oh boy folks #dont know where this came from #but i kinda like it #hope yall like it!!!#morning showers #cowboy thor #i need a hero snapshot #i need a hero #thor x reader #country thor #western thor #thor au #thor odinson

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adultswim2021 · 3 years

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Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law #15: “Blackwatch Plaid” | January 1, 2003 - 12:08 AM | S02E01

Mere minutes into 2003 Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law debuted it’s first episode in a little while: “Blackwatch Plaid”. The new year is traditionally a time when we reflect on our previous year and re-evaluate old habits. At the time of this airing, I was fastidiously recording Adult Swim every week and saving anything new that aired to my own carefully labeled home video archives. Historically I’d been recording to VHS, but I had received a DVD recorder for Christmas and immediately began transferring certain Adult Swim shows from VHS to DVD. The DVD format was still rather young, and the idea of Adult Swim shows actually making it to retail DVD didn’t seem like such a sure thing (even though at this time, two such volumes had been produced; more about those during EPHEMERA WEEK)

This was the tenth episode aired, and 10 episodes was what could fit on a DVD-R recorded in SP mode. So, I completed my first and only custom DVD of Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law. When faced with the prospect of beginning a second volume of Harvey Birdman on DVD I was at a bit of a crossroads. Keep watching this show I hate in the name of completionism? Or, do what any sane person would do and stop watching? I gave it away a few sentences back, but at the time I picked the later. This was a pretty big deal for me! Sure, I thought less of shows like Brak and Sealab from their strong starts, but I still stuck with them. My rejection of Birdman was a radical act. I was now no longer enjoying Adult Swim as a whole. I was now picking and choosing what I wanted from it.

“Blackwatch Plaid” isn’t so bad, truthfully. It’s a parody of the then-current Homeland Security Terror Alert Level Color Chart, which had debuted earlier in 2002. the eponymous blackwatch plaid is one of the colors on Phil Ken Sebben’s chart, which is created in this episode in response to an imagined office theft. The fact that this imaginary office theft is treated with the same high-level importance as a terrorist attack on our country is the whole joke of the episode. It’s a worthy target for satire, for sure.

Okay, so it’s 2021, and I’m watching these with a more open mind. I can admit the anger I felt at Birdman was “a little much”, this episode is more cohesive than most and the jokes aren’t bad. I didn’t laugh at them then, and I didn’t laugh at them now, so really not much has changed. But I recall one sticking point I had: the live-action montage. There’s multiple bits of live-action in this episode, and they are fun. But jealousy that these guys had a comedy show and I didn’t really worked wonders on me, because I remember really detesting the main montage in the episode. It was as if I thought “how dare you guys have fun, this show sucks.”

In the montage, Sebben presents Birdman with footage from the newly-installed security cameras that proves Birdman doesn’t get much work done in the course of his work day. A now live-action Birdman is seen milling around the office doing nothing much, then suddenly we are treated to a bright and colorful montage of Birdman playing hooky. He’s riding a ferris wheel, getting his nails done, showering at home with Boo Boo who playfully slaps his ass, cavorting around a fountain, popping out of a ball pit, and then running/tip-toeing around a field in different directions, for no reason. It’s wacky. It looks like it was a lot of fun to shoot. And I was pissed.

Okay, I’m primarily using this blog entry to try and get to the bottom of why I hated the montage so much. If a show I loved did something similar, I’d probably applaud it. It’s a fun idea, fairly low-effort (not that doing a live-action shoot doesn’t require real effort, it does!), and it just reads as “comedy is happening” for the entirety of the sequence. From a production stand point there’s little reason to not include a sequence like this.

I feel like this was a form of humor you’d see a lot of amateur comedy makers doing: the bright and cheery montage. It’s ironic, because I’m acting cheesy! I couldn't name names if I tried, but I just had about three or four different amateur sketch group videos pop into my head with the same comedy stylings. I can’t imagine what the point of view is here, or if anyone participating in this particular joke actually thinks they’re being original. At this point I’d say that the number of ironic/spoof montages in this vein outnumber the ones that are actually doing them in earnest. So, the idea can’t be “I’m doing a very original joke here.” The humor in those videos seem to be rooted in the more narcissistic ethos of “this is funny because *I’M* doing it!”

Have you ever seen Stella Shorts? I feel like a lot of aspiring comedy creators saw Stella Shorts and tried to produce similar sketches. That is: hammy, broad, intentionally sorta cheesy but ironic capitol-c comedy. And most of them would fall flat. It’s because the Stella guys were geniuses and the amateur comedians trying to do dime-store imitations of Stella Shorts were mostly not. So, it was the climate that really shaded my disdain for the montage. I wish I had my own TV show, still. I’ve occasionally written comedy pieces with the intent of putting together a low-budget sketch comedy show, and I’m certain that if I were to actually produce said comedy it wouldn’t be so easy, and I’d be very much guilty of putting unoriginal ideas on screen. But, the jealousy remains. So, sorry, Birdman. You’re still forbidden from entering my heart. Fuck you.

MAIL BAG

This is the part of the blog where we all get our eyes ready for some good messages and some good times. Here we go:

Just tried the Popeyes Nuggets, I've enjoy popeyes bone in chicken in the past so I thought I would give their boneless option a shot.

Please stop sending me nugget stuff. This is an anti-corporate, anti-capitalist blog. No one should eat any nugget unless they make it at home themselves. That’s just the facts

I can't believe I felt a little melancholy about the abrupt end of Brak. The first full fledge Adult Swim program to bite the dust. It was mostly terrible and you were better off airing an Aqua Teen episode in it's place but...wow, we'll never have that again. Goodbye Andy! See you in the shitty webtoon.

Andy is in hell now and “that’s gotta suck”. RIP.

Took the kids to Great Falls the other day, last treat before they head off to school and on our way back we stopped at Popeyes. The kids got the nuggets I went with the classic chicken. Cost me about 18 bucks with drinks and all that but it was pretty good chicken. The kids loved the nuggets. My son was like, "it's crunchy". Pretty cool place. Thanks for hipping me and my family to it. If you have any other kid-friendly places let me know because fall soccer season is coming up.

!!! SHUSH! stop that!

You arent gonna write about it since its not an original but Family Guy just left Adult Swim. Why don't you speak your mind about the show in general and what it meant for the programming block. Yeah, that sounds like a good waste of your time.

Little do you realize!

Popeyes chicken

Suck my dick

#adult swim #harvey birdman attorney at law #adultswim2021

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2seokfan · 4 years

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Scarlet & Hazel | Ch. 3

pairings: hoseok x reader x yoongi

genre: fluff, very light angst, smut (future)

word count: 6k

chapters: ch.1, ch.2, ch.3. ch.4

summary:

Just cause you’re living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment even after graduating college doesn’t mean you’re not happy. So what if your best friend is working her dream job making close to six figures every year? So what if she’s in a loving, committed relationship with her perfect boyfriend that you’re 99% sure is going to propose to her sometime next year? It doesn’t matter that your idea of a perfect relationship is a $9.99 bottle of wine on Friday nights while you binge watch Netflix specials.

Ok so maybe you’re a teensy bit miserable. Maybe you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Maybe all you need to do is accidentally cross paths with two hybrids who will drastically change that.

Meet “Scarlet” and “Hazel”, two of the most gorgeous hybrid men you have ever laid eyes on. With their help, you learn that life is an adventure, a roller-coaster with ups and downs, and you were too preoccupied with yourself to climb out of your own predicament. And hey, you’re not much of a romantic, but with these two, you just might change your mind.

a/n: Hello, Jun here! Whew this took a while to write but thank you for your patience!! (poor Y/N still doesn’t know their real names but maybe she’ll find out soon?) Any feedback is appreciated <3

tag list: @wilhelminalucinda @ghostkat23 @ayoo-bangtan @sadgurllayha

2 months later.

August is relentless. You’re sweaty all the time and you have no choice but the crank up the a/c every single day. This heat wave is incredibly brutal because all you want to do is stay at home eating ice cream in your underwear but instead you’re stuck working overtime to pay for what you assume will be a record-high electricity bill. Fuck you global warming.

It’s currently Tuesday. You’re on lunch break at work, chowing down on a falafel wrap and scrolling through your phone, when a text pops up from Karli.

Karli: Don’t forget!

You: ???

Karli: This friday?

You scratch your head. Wtf?

You: What’s on friday?

Karli: Umm the date? Remember?

No you didn’t. Your dumbass actually forgot about a whole date. You can’t believe yourself. Karli finally set you up with that accountant guy from her job. What’s his name again? Brad? Brandon?

You: oh yeah! my bad haha

Karli: You forgot his name didn’t you?

You: …maybe

Karli: Lol it’s Bryce sweetie

Karli: He’s really sweet! Just give it a shot

You: of course i will

You: i’ll turn up my maximum charm

Karli: Dats my girlllll

Karli: Ugh gtg it’s my boss

Karli: Bye!

You: bye babe

You set your phone down, trying to envision this upcoming Friday. Karli mentioned she gave Bryce your phone number, and he’ll text you sometime this week about your date, so at least you don’t have to make any moves first. She did show you his picture though, being the wingman that she is by stalking all his social media just for you. You’ve gotta admit he is cute, the profile picture showed him sporting a casual smile, with blonde hair and blue eyes. The classic boy-next-door look.

“And he’s most likely not a serial killer!” You remember her declaring a few weeks ago, after scrolling through all his tweets. And when you say all his tweets you mean EVERY Single tweet from when he created his account in high school till now. Your best friend does not fuck around.

“Thanks I appreciate that. Glad he’ll ‘most likely’ not kill me.” You rolled your eyes and grinned at her.

While you munch away the rest of your lunch, you think about how you just aren’t acting like yourself lately. In any other circumstance, you would’ve found yourself more excited for the date. Hell, in any other circumstance you would’ve at LEAst remembered his name, or thought about what to wear by now, or even stalked his social media along with Karli. There’s just a teensy problem though. See, in the past few months you happen to have met two boys who completely changed your standards in men. And you may have maybe developed the tiniest crush on both of them, at the same time. Like how?? You didn’t think you were physically capable of doing that?

You sigh, staring at the rest of your falafel wrap, and force yourself to accept reality. As much as you adore them, you know that your little crush will be completely unreciprocated. This you found out through your group chat, now named ‘Hazel’s Nuts’ (courtesy of Scarlet). It’s not that you confessed to them or anything, they just happened to let slip to you one day that they’re a mated pair. And hybrids mate for life, so they take that shit very seriously. Although this news stung a little, it didn’t cause you to be envious in any way. At the end of the day, crush or not, you’re just glad you have two more people in your life you can confidently call your close friends.

For the past two months you’ve actively kept up with them. Sometimes you’ll send memes back and forth all night, sometimes you’ll group call each other after work. Every once in a while, when they’re not busy doing whatever it is they’re doing, they facetime you. These are your favorite moments because you get to see them in all their attractive glory. Just because they don’t like you that way doesn’t mean a girl can’t deny herself some eye candy.

You guys never run out of things to talk about. Each day you check the group chat and it’ll be popping. Your topics range from the movie that just came out, restaurants they discovered, to even discussing new criminal cases (you got Hazel into watching true crime Youtube videos and now he’s entirely hooked). Sometimes you just sit back and watch the two boys bicker back and forth. It’s hysterical how they decide to argue through text since you’re sure both of them are probably in the same room together, but you appreciate them keeping you in the loop.

At this point they’ve already virtually met Karli. She’s been in the background of one or two of your facetimes. You’re glad she approves of them instantly and you wonder if it has a little something to do with their, especially Scarlet’s, boyish charms. She does keep you grounded though, never failing to mention how it’s suspicious that you don’t know their real names yet.

“I don’t think they mean any harm and they seem genuinely nice,” she had reassured, “But you gotta admit not telling you their names is a little sketch.”

You just shrugged. “They have their reasons.”

Internally you do believe she has a point. Even though you don’t want to force information out of the boys, you’re a naturally curious person. Your mind has already compiled a list of all the unusual facts you’ve discovered about them.

A couple of things have become clear to you over the span of the last few months. The most important fact is that although they share tons of content with you, you still have no idea what they do for a living. You’re also 90% sure they don’t have an owner since there’s never anyone else around them. Another, more interesting fact is that you suspect they’re actually pretty wealthy. Every time you facetime, they’re in some sort of lavish looking hotel penthouse, with fancy furniture and artwork hanging in the background. They also dress designer, occasionally flashing their Balenciaga hats, or little Gucci necklaces, or other fancy logos your peasant-ass is unfamiliar with. You actually googled one of Hazel’s t-shirts from your most recent facetime, having no idea what the FG logo stood for. You remember your eyes bulging out of your head after discovering his plain white shirt with two black letters cost more than $200. TWO HUNDred dollars?!!! Do you know how much food and gas you could buy with $200? Why in the fuck would he spend that much on a shirt??

If only you knew how much their watches cost.

Friday rolls around faster than you can blink and before you know it, you’re rushing home from work to get ready. Bryce texted you for the first time on Wednesday to see if you wanted sushi (hell yeah you did) and you were fortunate enough to notify your boss so you could be let out early. You’ve been such a work horse the last few months that they had no choice but to let you leave in advance.

So far Bryce seems nice enough but you can’t get a proper gauge of his character through text. Oh well, guess you’ll find out tonight.

The sushi place you’re meeting at is on the fancier side, and includes a bar. Knowing yourself, if there’s a bar, there’s no car, which means you won’t be driving. The last thing you want is to leave your car parked somewhere sketchy overnight cause you accidentally got too tipsy to drive. You like to think you have some semblance of control but it’s always better to be safe than sorry.

You were let out at 4, which means you have only 2 hours to get ready. As soon as you get home you sprint to your closet at lightning speed. You rummage through your drawers, hoping to find something, ANYthing, that’s appropriate for this occasion. For one quick second, your eyes dart to your forbidden drawer, aka the ho drawer. It contains the remains of your slutty party dresses and tops from college. Being the hoarder that you are, you never like throwing away things, even if you have no need for them anymore. Wait, what the hell am I thinking? You snap your eyes back to the rest of your closet. You’re going for sushi, not to dance at some club. Besides, you have no intention of sleeping with anyone tonight.

After an hour of deciding on a suitable outfit you finally start on your makeup. Your work makeup has dried up, and now feels gross and cakey on your face, so you remove it all and start anew. At least you had the decency to shower this morning so your hair isn’t too gross.

The place is around a 10 minute Uber ride away but you took your sweet ass time getting ready so now you’re in a frenzy. When your phone buzzes, signaling your driver is here, you swipe on some lipstick last minute, grab some chunky heels, and practically fly out the door.

You stare out the window of your ride, wondering why you’re lowkey wishing you could spend Friday night at home watching tv instead, or even just spending the evening facetiming two hot hybrids. This all feels a little too rushed. But no, you shake your head and attempt to hype yourself up. C’mon Y/N this is the first real date you’ve been on in ages. At least TRy and be a little more motivated.

The car pulls up and you thank the driver, stepping out into the warm night air. August is still hot, even in the evenings, and you’re glad you didn’t bring a cardigan. Bryce has already texted you, letting you know he was inside, sitting at your reserved spot. You take a deep breath. Ok, time to put on your game face. You strut in, trying your very best to push the faces of two very good-looking friends out of your mind.

You spot Bryce in a corner, head buried in his phone, his wavy blonde hair not easy to miss. You slide in the seat across from him, prompting him to quickly look up and flash you an easygoing smile.

“Hello there!”

“Hi!” You chuckle nervously. “I hope I’m not too late.”

“Not all all!” He slides his phone back in his pocket, smile still on his face. “You’re just in time.”

A waiter comes by and you both take your orders. You make sure to order a drink because you have a feeling you’ll need the liquid courage to strike up more conversation. Maybe some sake will help ease you.

The first couple minutes are kinda awkward, not gonna lie. Bryce tries to get you to talk about work and you do answer him, but honestly work is the last thing you want to discuss right now. You try to shift the conversation to his job, but that only ends up being worse as he quickly launches into the ins and outs of life as an accountant. Maybe your two hybrids friends have spoiled you because you barely remember the last time you had to fill empty space with small talk.

When the food comes you quietly sigh a breath of relief, hoping the sushi in front of you will help you both get settled and give you time to think of more interesting topics to talk about.

“So,” you wrack your brain, “let’s get to know each other more! Like, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” That’s got to be a safe enough question.

“Hm, I’m actually more of a yogurt kinda guy, ice cream’s not really my thing.”

You freeze, California roll halfway to your mouth. Ok, ok, cool, cool. So he doesn’t like ice cream, that’s fine. You sweat a little. Hurry Y/N think of something else to ask.

“Yeah, I guess that’s not everybody’s thing.” You grimace. “Then what about, i don’t know, cookies? What’s your favorite kinda cookie?”

“Actually I prefer crackers, you know, like the saltine ones? Cookies can be too sweet sometimes.” He’s devouring his dragon roll, not noticing the panic in your eyes. He’s caught you off guard twice today.

This isn’t going well and you’re genuinely surprised because you know Karli has done her research, certain that you two would get along. Guess life really likes to throw you some curveballs.

Who the fuck prefers crackers over cookies anyway?? Ok. Code red! Change the fucking subject before the silence becomes unbearable. Your dessert-related ice breakers had never failed you before but there’s always a first for everything, you guess.

You take a generous swig of sake. “Right, crackers are... good.” You’re mumbling at this point. “Ok, um, what about hobbies? Got any?” Please throw me a fucking bone here! Your mind is reeling but externally you try to act calm and composed, dabbing at the corner or you mouth delicately with a napkin.

“Oh yeah!” His face lights up. Oh thank god. “Do you like football? Me and my buddies at the office sorta formed this team, and we play against other departments. It’s really fun! You should come by and watch sometime!”

“Uh, sure!” Football. Huh. The last time you were anywhere near a football was when you met someone from your college team at a bar. Well he wasn’t holding a football per se, but that counts right? You only remember how much of a douche he was, trying to hit on one of the girls from your group after getting entirely too wasted.

“Awesome! I’ll hit you up when the next game is set!” It’s almost impressive how he doesn’t notice all the tension emitting from your body. In fact, you have a feeling he’s actually enjoying himself and your company.

The rest of the dinner goes by in the same manner. With him happily answering all your questions and you slowly discovering just how little you both have in common.

He is a gentleman though, that you can’t deny. When all the food has been cleared away he immediately swoops in to pay the bill, ignoring your insistence at paying for your half at least. He really isn’t a bad person, just the opposite. Besides your difference in interests, he is a sweet guy overall, and you do find him to be physically attractive. There’s just no spark, no silver lining that keeps you wanting more. When you both get out of your seats he offers to drive you back to your place but you politely decline. You say it’s because you don’t want to trouble him but in reality you need space for yourself to think.

As soon as you arrive home you take off your shoes and plop yourself down on the couch, running your hands through your hair. You check your phone, a few notifications from ‘Hazel’s Nuts’ popping up.

Scarlet: Do you think she’s done with her date yet??

Hazel: Hey Y/N how was it?

You had told them about this date beforehand and they were excited to root for you, which did bruise your ego a bit since it reaffirmed your unreturned attraction to them, but also prompted you to go through with it. This last notification was from 45 minutes ago but you couldn’t reply since you were still at dinner.

You: hi I just got back!

You don’t expect them to respond right away but to your surprise:

Scarlet: And???

You: it was meh

Hazel: That bad huh?

You: no nothing like that!

You: he’s really cute and all, it’s just we basically have nothing in common

Scarlet: Aww poor Y/N (sad emojis)

Hazel: Hey happens to the best of us

Hazel: Actually I wouldn’t know cause I’ve only been with fox boy

You: thanks anyway, i appreciate it Hazel

Maybe it’s cause you’re a little tipsy, or maybe you just feel so open and vulnerable around them tonight, but the next text you send is especially honest.

You: ughhh idk guys i’m just so lonely!!! why can’t things just work out for me for once! Like the first real date I go on in years and this happens :(

They don’t respond for a long time. So long in fact you start to get worried that you exposed too much about yourself.

15 minutes pass by but to you it feels like hours. You’ve already removed all your makeup and changed into your pajama shirt. You relocate to your bed, checking your phone again, thinking of a way to play off your last text as a joke when:

Hazel: If you’re so lonely maybe you could adopt?

You grin to yourself, glad that they’re not being judgmental. Their concern for you resets your mood.

You: ha ha you know my apartment doesn’t allow pets

You: but honestly if i could i would, cause i’d definitely get a little kitty

Hazel: I’m flattered

You: thanks but i meant a real cat

Hazel: Either way i’m flattered

Scarlet: HEY what about foxes??

You: pretty sure owning a pet fox is illegal here Scar

Scarlet: (angry emojis)

Hazel: You heard what the lady said

You: anyways i’m going to bed

You: thanks for making me feel better guys <3

Hazel: Anytime

Scarlet: But hypothetically if foxes weren’t illegal you’d get a pet fox right??

You: of course i would sweetie

Scarlet: (happy emojis)

Scarlet: Yay!!! Goodnight Y/N!

Hazel: Night Y/N

You: night boys

You wake up next morning on your own time, checking your phone to see that you slept in till 11am. Wow, you haven’t slept that well in a while. Maybe it’s the stress from the previous weeks of non stop working, or the pressure to maintain your composure last night, but either way you knocked out like a rock. You sit up, lean back, and stretch your arms as far as they can go.

Today you’re meeting Karli at her place up north. She couldn’t ask you about last night since she was occupied, her seven year anniversary with her boyfriend Sunny coinciding with your date. But she assured you a couple days ago over facetime that today was going to be a girl’s day, no boyfriend included.

“Hey!” Sunny had popped out of nowhere in the video when he heard the news, a look of mock shock on his face. “I live here too! So what, you're just gonna kick me out of the house and leave me on the streets to starve?”

“My god stop being dramatic!” Karli had shoved him playfully off the screen. “I need girl time with Y/N and it’s not girl time if you’re in the house.”

“I can be one of the girls! Right Y/N?” He sounded betrayed.

“I know you can but I’m not the one who makes the rules.” You pointed out.

He sighed. “You got me there.”

Since you’re just spending time at Karli’s and getting takeout, you felt zero need to dress up. You washed your face, threw on an oversized t-shirt some old hookup left at your place (hey it was cute) and some tights, and tied your hair out of your face. This entire process took less than 30 minutes and next thing you know you’re ready to head out.

You sent Karli a quick text, letting her know you’re on the way. You grab a bottle of prosecco, your purse, and keys, saying a quick goodbye to your roommate Ayah on your way out. She gives you a small wave, reminding you that she, yet again, has to leave today for a whole week. You backtrack to give her a quick goodbye hug, telling her to drive safe, before you take off.

Karli’s place isn’t as far as the beach coffeehouse you frequent, but it’s still located in the wealthier side of town. The drive lasts a good 20 minutes but it feels a lot faster since you spend the whole time singing along to your favorite songs.

You pull up to Karli’s apartment complex, driving yourself to the guest parking space. Her apartment building is pretty tall, with a distant, but gorgeous view of the beach.

Karli squeals when she opens the door, immediately giving you a big hug. When you break apart you hold up the bottle of prosecco in your hand, waving it in front of her face.

“I know you have the ingredients here so let’s make some spritz!”

“Yay!”

Aperol spritz is your favorite at-home drink to make with Karli. She had gone on a short trip to Italy in the summer between her two years at grad school and tried the drink there, completely falling in love. She googled the recipe, made it for you one day, you had said “Oh FUck that’s good!”, and the rest is history.

She grabs the bottle and quickly relocates it to her kitchen. Her energy levels are sky high today and you wonder what’s got her so elated. She’s skipping everywhere she goes, there’s a permanent smile etched on her face, and she’s humming non stop as she pulls you away from the front entrance.

Sunny emerges from the hallway, two hands in the air in surrender.

“I’m heading out, I swear!”

Sunny is a big teddy bear of a man, with tattoos splayed across his arms and a well-kept beard. There’s a term you learned online called ‘lumbersexual’ and that’s exactly the word to describe Sunny. He almost reminds you of Jason Momoa, the actor who played Aquaman. Those who just meet him think he looks intimidating at first but once you get past his height and size, you see just how much of a softie he is. He’s also extremely intelligent, working somewhere in the computer industry developing software.

Karli bounds over to him and gives him a big snuggly hug and tiptoes all the way up to give a quick kiss to his lips.

“Have fun babe! Love you!”

“Love you too! Also bye Y/N!”

“Bye Sunny have fun!” You smile as he treads out the door.

You both head to the kitchen and start making your drinks.

“Aren’t you extra chipper today!” You mention as you pour a splash of club soda into your glass.

“Am I?” She doesn’t look at you, wearing a mysterious grin, stirring her mixture with a straw.

After you both finish making your drinks, you head to her living room and settle onto her plush sofa.

Karli yawns, almost too dramatically, covering her left hand over her mouth. You quirk your eyebrow at her, wondering why she’s acting so weird until you spot it. There’s something large, something shiny, on her left ring finger.

“Oh my god….” Your entire mouth hangs open. “Oh my GOD!!! Is THAT…?”

“Yep!”

“Did HE -?”

“Yep!!”

“AND YOU - ?

“YEP I DID!!”

“YOU’RE ENGAGED?!?!?!”

“I KNOW!!!!”

What happens after is a shriek rivaling that of a pterodactyl taking flight after spotting prey, except the sound is just the two of you screaming and jumping up and down in Karli’s living room.

You bring her into a tight hug, so emotional that you’re about to tear up. And you’re not one to cry that easily.

“I’m so happy for you!” You pull apart and wipe a stray tear from your cheek.

“Thank you! I’m so happy too!” Her smile is also a little watery. “Like I knew he was gonna do it soon since we’ve been together so long but I’m still shocked you know?”

“I know!”

“And I’m sorry. Today was supposed to be me asking about your date last night.” She dabs at her eyes. “Bryce really likes you too. He even texted me thanking me for introducing you!!”

“Oh shit...” You take this chance to drink your Aperol spritz. “I’m gonna be completely honest with you. It’s true he’s cute but there was no spark.” You give her an apologetic grin, knowing she really wanted this to work out for you. “Like don’t get me wrong he’s super nice and stuff but I just couldn’t find anything we have in common. I can’t believe he’s still into me?!”

“Aw I’m sorry babe.” She pouts. “I really did think you would be a good match.”

“It’s ok. Anyways,” you wave her off, bringing up the more important subject at hand. “I’d much rather talk about your engagement! Like, hello?? You’re getting married, girl!!

Another squeal. You really hope her neighbors don’t complain.

“I know!! I literally don’t know what to think!” She smiles wistfully, like she’s on cloud nine, then brings her attention back to you. “Also you’re the maid of honor and you can’t back out of that.”

“I would never!” You gasp dramatically, one hand clutching your chest.

“But don’t worry!” She sets her drink down. “The wedding’s not happening till next year at least. We don’t have to start planning till way later.”

The rest of the day you spend chatting to Karli, prompting her to spill every single detail about the proposal. Even though you have no need to help her plan a wedding just yet, you can’t hold back from offering some ideas that spring to mind.

“I got it!!” You shout.

“You got what?”

“Hear me out,” you may or may not be a little tipsy at this point. “Goth wedding!” You say with jazz hands. Then you reach down to take another sip of your drink.

“Hmm…” She pretends to think about the idea, then giggles. “And that’s enough prosecco for you.” Plucking the glass out of your hand, she transfers it to her kitchen sink.

A couple more hours roll by. You both decide to watch a cheesy Netflix horror movie to sober up, paired with the Mexican takeout you ordered. By the time the credits roll, the sun has long since set, along with your alcohol buzz. You check the time on your phone, deciding it’s best to head home since poor Sunny has been respectfully out and about all day, giving you your girl time.

You give Karli one last big hug, murmuring into her hair how happy you are for her situation. She walks you to the apartment elevator, where you proceed to blow her a swift kiss right before the doors close in your face.

Reality sets in the moment you’re alone. Your head swims with thoughts as you drive back. Most of them are happy about your best friend’s engagement but you can’t discount the little ugly bubble of jealousy that wells down deep in your gut, reminding you of your own current situation. It’s not until you reach home that you realize you didn’t even play music in the car.

Ayah has long since gone on her business trip by the time you arrive at your apartment. The whole place looks dark and unwelcome, only highlighting the emptiness you feel inside. You trudge to your room and slump onto your bed. You try to scroll through social media as a way to distract yourself but you’re met, instead, by all the pictures and posts of happy people, showing off their achievements or bragging about their seemingly perfect lives.

You immediately lock your phone and throw it onto the blanket, the stress and anxiety from the last few months building to a boiling point in your mind. Your biggest concern is you still haven’t figured out your lease situation, and you only have two more months to move out or find someone new. Ayah has tried her best to help you but she’s bombarded by business trips so no luck so far. You let out a small groan and bury your head in the pillow, deciding to sleep it off and worry about your problems tomorrow, even though it’s not even that late.

Right as you’re about to drift off into dreamland, your phone rings. You fumble around the covers until it’s in your hands and check that you have a facetime call from your two favorite boys.

Immediately your body jerks awake and you sit up, swiping the answer button.

“Hey guys!”

“Hi Y/N!!” Scarlet’s heart-shaped smile is taking up most of the screen but you can see a sliver of white and grey hair behind him.

Hazel elbows him out of the way. “Sorry were you sleeping?” He tilts his head, ears twitching. “Wait, it’s only 10 pm where you’re at. You never sleep this early.”

“No I wasn’t... I mean, yeah I was trying to sleep but…”

You sigh. It’s their faces. Just seeing them through a screen, their wide, innocent eyes blinking up at you, makes you want to spill everything.

You nibble on your bottom lip for a moment. “I was just kinda having an existential crisis so I decided to sleep it off. No biggie.”

Scarlet’s eyebrows furrow in concern. After only two months, he can already tell when something is off with your tone of voice.

“Y/N what’s wrong?” He looks up for a bit, pausing to think. “Was it the date last night?”

“The date?” Oh yeah the date. Yet another thing that didn’t go well. You totally forgot about that can of worms. “Not really… or actually kinda?”

You try to reorganize your jumbled mess of a brain and put your thoughts into words.

“So you know how I said I was going to Karli’s today?”

“Mhm,” they nod at you to continue.

“Well turns out she got engaged last night.”

“That’s awesome! I’m so happy for her!” Scarlet bounces a little, then quickly returns to a more serious tone. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

“Yeah I’m happy for her too.” And you genuinely are.

You pause for another moment, teetering on the edge of playing your emotions off like it’s no big deal or exposing all of your concerns yet again. Your need for an outlet to vent to wins in the end. For the first time you find yourself unable to confide in Karli because you want her to be happy and focus on the engagement rather than to be preoccupied with you. Before you know it, the words flow from your mouth like running water.

“It’s just that her announcement really brought me back to earth, and I started thinking a little too much about my own life.” You purse your lips. “I don’t know… I feel pretty selfish right now because she’s doing so well and I just can’t help comparing my life to hers. I’m so proud of her but it’s like everything in her life is coming together and I just want that for me also.” You throw your hands up in frustration, almost knocking the phone off from where it leans on your pillow. “I mean we’re the same age for god's sake! Why can’t I get my shit together??”

“Well you should be proud of yourself though,” Hazel cuts in. “Cause we are.” He gestures to Scarlet and himself.

“Yeah!” Scarlet chimes. “I mean you’ve got a full time job and a place to stay. I know you don’t feel like it’s the most ideal situation right now but please don’t discredit yourself.”

“Thanks guys.” You calm down a bit, but then you remember the whole issue with your apartment. Scratching the back of your neck, a habit you’ve picked up whenever you’re nervous, you say in a much smaller voice, “although my ‘place to stay’ might not last much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Both boys’ eyebrows are raised in confusion.

You realize you never mentioned your living situation to them, the topic always pushed to the back of your mind whenever they initiated conversation.

“Yeah.” A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “My lease ends soon and Ayah wants to move to a place of her own. And I have two months to figure out where to live or find another roommate.” You let out a frustrated huff. “She’s been so helpful but still no luck I guess.” You shrug in defeat.

You feel like a balloon that’s lost all its air, brain exhausted from running through all the problems in your life.

“Actually that’s pretty convenient for- ” Scarlet starts, but is elbowed again in the ribs by Hazel. “Ow!”

“Not yet!” The cat hisses quietly to him.

“Huh?” Now you’re confused. What in the world are they talking about?

Hazel turns back to you. “I’m really sorry about everything Y/N. If there’s anything we can do to help please let us know.”

“Thanks buddy.” You offer him a small smile, choosing to ignore what just happened since they clearly don’t want to reveal anything just yet.

Hazel then shifts to a more nervous stance, ears slightly flattening and both hands grabbing his floofy grey tail for comfort. It’s the cutest goddamn thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“So Y/N, um, there’s a reason we called you tonight.”

You’re glad for a change in subject, a much needed distraction away from your downward spiraling thoughts.

“Oh right! Yeah. What’s up guys?”

Scarlet steps in front of him again, blocking most of the screen.

“We have a surprise for you!” He’s so close to the camera that you can only see half of his unblemished face but from the way his eyes crinkle, you can tell he’s giddy with anticipation.

“A surprise- ?”

“Yeah!!”

Hazel nudges himself into view again. “Quit hogging the whole screen fox! I swear to god next time we’re using the tv. I can’t see anything! Anyways,” he turns to you and smooths his shirt, expression back to stoic, “are you free next weekend?”

“I should be. Why?” You’re still a little lost on what the surprise is.

“Cause we’re coming back to town!” Scarlet blurts out.

“You are?!” Suddenly all your negativity melts away, replaced by excitement. Hard to believe just five simple words can shift your mood a complete 180°.

“But wait, there’s more!” You snort at how much Scarlet sounded like an infomercial just now.

“We’d like to invite you to dinner next Saturday night. If that’s ok with you?” Hazel isn’t as physically expressive as Scarlet but the hopeful shine in his eyes gives himself away.

You melt at his expression, heart rate speeding up. “Of course that’s ok! I’d love to!”

“Great!” He flashes one of his rare gummy smiles. “Saturday night. 7 pm. We’ll text you the details.”

“Yep!” Scarlet pipes in. “There’s something important we gotta ask- !” He lets out a small gasp, tail bristling, and clamps a hand over his mouth as if he just said something he shouldn’t have.

“What’s important?” You’ve gotta admit, your curiosity is at its peak right now, and it doesn’t help that they’re acting a little weird today.

Hazel rubs his temples in exasperation, groaning at Scarlet. “What part of ‘not yet’ did you not understand?” He then addresses you. “Sorry Y/N I promise we’ll tell you when we see you in person.”

“Ok.” Cool. That’s fine. You’re a little nervous about what they have to say and it’ll be torture to wait but you’re a big girl and you can handle not knowing for a week. “I can’t wait to see you guys!!” you added.

“Me too!” Scarlet’s personality is so bubbly and contagious that you can’t help but smile back at him.

“Same.” Hazel lets out a small yawn. “Well we’re in a different time zone than you and it’s really late here so I gotta hit the hay.”

“Mk, go get your beauty sleep.” You give them a little wave. “And thanks for everything. I mean it.”

“No problem Y/N.” Scarlet also gives off a yawn, stretching his tired limbs. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

After ending the facetime call, you lie on your back, staring at the ceiling. Your mind is active once again, but this time it’s not clouded with self-deprecating thoughts. Instead, you spend the remainder of the evening theorizing about the ‘important’ things the boys have to tell you. Maybe you’ll finally find out their real names. Or maybe they’ll reveal something else about themselves, like why they’re constantly travelling, or what they actually do for a living. Either way you can’t wait for next Saturday to come around.

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#bts fic #bts hybrid au #hoseok fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfction #hybrid hoseok #hybrid yoongi #bts hybrid fic

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peeterparkr · 5 years

Text

limits of desire⤳t.h.||6

chapter 6: mail your save the dates

story summary: you met Tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. Wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize what you really feel.

summary: the one with the blue box and the big question

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x best friend!reader

warnings: swearing,alcohol mention, didn’t proof read

word count: 6.2k (whoops sorry)

OOF IT’S HERE. TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!

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December 1st.

Tom’s room was a mess, several shirts were placed on his bed, with pants and underwear flying through the room. It was a warzone. Tom was a bigger mess. He was walking bare chest and with his wet hair flying as he was placing the dress shirts above his chest, trying to decide which one looked better. Dress shirts, t-shirts. Hell, what the hell was he supposed to wear?

Gosh, was he nervous. He was shaking, and his hands were sweating. He had walked around his room for about an hour now. He hadn’t slept the night before and he had drunk coffee, not tea, coffee. Three espressos. He had showered twice and shaved the almost non-existent beard. He had brushed his teeth, three times and then combed his hair. Tom was an emotional mess.

He was finally going to see her. He was going to finally pick her up, today. After all that time. He was going to see her. He had arranged a dinner with her and her mother, and he was dying to see her.

Tom walked to Haz’s room, holding a lot of shirts. “I need your help.”

Haz was only watching him, laughing about it. “Man, you need to calm down,” he told him as he followed him ever.

“I can’t, how can I calm down? Would you be calm? I wouldn’t, I can’t be calm, I love her man, I haven’t seen her, what if she doesn’t like me anymore?” He was rambling. “How am I even gonna tell her?” There was Tom, placing shirts over his chest to see which one he should wear

“Black one--” Harrison rolled his eyes as Tom kept placing shirts over his chest. “What’s the plan?”

But… alright, I’ll pick her mother up, and then we’ll pick y/n up from the airport, then we will go out for dinner...And I wanted to be alone with her,” Tom admitted. “But I guess her mother missed her, too.”

“You guess?” Haz rolled his eyes. “Well, you can spend tomorrow with her, right? Before the party.”

“Yes, yes, I cleared out all my schedule,” Tom gulped. “I’m still nervous.”

“Are you telling her today?” Haz questioned.

Tom gulped. “Maybe? If the time shows up, I just don’t wanna tell her in front of her mother, but I want her to see I’ve… changed, you know?”

“But you know, why don’t you tell Anna?” Haz suggested. “That you want some alone time.”

Tom bit his lip. “I sorta told her, I told her that I wanted to...talk to her daughter and I told her I was taking her to dinner to tell y/n something very important and then she just said: uh yeah I’ll go with you, ” he said. “But I guess Anna isn’t that fond of me, you know, I’ve slept with her niece and…”

“But she knows her daughter loves you,” Haz said. “But, I wouldn’t blame her if she’s trying to protect her daughter.”

“You think?” Tom gulped.

“So you’ve got a long way home, Tom,” Haz admitted. “You’ve gotta prove them both you’ve changed.”

“I have, I have…” Tom looked down at the dress shirts.

“Right, are you giving that to her today? That might show you’ve changed” Haz asked, looking down at the blue box on his nightstand. “If I have a guess of what it is...”

Tom had to stop as he looked at the blue box. He bit his lip as he took it in his hands.

“It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” Haz raised his eyebrows. “You’re telling me that if I dare to open that box I won’t find an engagement ring?”

Tom’s eyes widened. “No, no, of course not! Don’t be silly!” Tom gulped. “No, no.” he blushed. “No, it’s a necklace… a pendant, actually, a rose gold pendant with a small diamond,” Tom cleared his throat, he placed the box inside his drawer. “See? Do you...?” He cleared his throat. “Did you really believe it’s an engagement ring?”

“Coming from you? Never,” Harrison laughed.

Tom frowned. “Hey, shut up,” Tom ran a hand through his hair.

“As if you would buy one,” Harrison laughed.

“Maybe not now,” Tom cleared his throat and then shook his head. “What am I saying?” He laughed. “No, no, uh… I need...uh.”

“To get ready,” Haz reminded him. “It’s getting late.”

Tom nodded as he rushed to spray cologne on himself. “Right, late, late, should I buy flowers? Yes, I’ll leave now...and,” he ran as he picked up his keys.

Haz laughed following him. “Man, aren’t you forgetting something?”

Tom had already walked out when he felt a cold breeze. “Ah, shit…”

Haz gave him a black dress shirt since Tom had walked out shirtless, and his coat and he finally left. He was going to see the woman he was in love with, so it was one big deal. He still had some time to spare, so he decided to buy the flowers.

He went to a flower shop, and he struggled as he looked at the different flowers, roses, daisies, lavenders, tulips, gerberas, every single type of flower looked pretty. And he didn’t want to go to the cliché, he couldn’t. But red roses just had their special meaning, so he wanted to give it that a try. And of course, a bouquet of roses would right away yell at her he loved her. So it could be good. He remembered when they were talking back at the wedding.

“I’d have sunflowers,” she started. “Yes, and daisies…Flowers are important.”

Sure, roses had a big meaning. Red roses were the lovers roses, they meant passion, love. Everything that Tom was dying to tell her. Which had him very nervous, how was he supposed to tell her?

He could make a reservation to have dinner at a fancy place, but he knew that it’d be too much. She didn’t like the conventional. Y/N wasn’t one to like that. He remembered how ti had gone with Andrew Jacobs when he took her to a big place. She didn’t like being in the spotlight. Not with Andrew, at least.

y/n’s idea of romance, Tom knew, was simple. She didn’t need the big show or the rom-com like stunts. No, for her, it was the simple things. Like when that guy who had dated her and remembered she liked honey and lemon with her earl grey tea.

Tom could be that. Tom could be that who remembered every small detail about her, like how she likes to curl up with that grey knit blanket while reading a book, or how she’ll always press her pen repeatedly when she’s nervous. How she likes to eat first all the red m&m’s, or how she hates when people walk slowly. How she ends up rewatching Friends whenever she’s feeling sad after hours of scrolling through the Netflix movies and shows.

He knew her from head to toe. He knew her soul and he knew the way she would think. He realized it then, he was the one who guessed her thoughts before she could even think them.

On his way he saw a flower shop he would visit quite often before, he didn’t remember why he had stopped going there.

“Hello,” the florist said, as she grinned. “Oh my god, Tom Holland”

Tom sketched her a smile, as he nervously approached her. He realized then, why he had stopped going to that flower shop. He had once slept with that florist who happened to be oh so in love with him. Tom turned red, as he gulped down every embarrassed sentiment he was getting.

Tom chuckled nervously, as he turned around to catch his breath. Everything was paying off. He needed to be there, for y/n. He pumped up his chest and then turned back to her with a smile. It was weird now that he couldn’t go on flirting with someone. But the girl acted naturally.

“Eh, add some sunflowers, some daisies, and some… red roses,” he asked her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Interesting combination, daisies mean innocence and purity,” she said as she was setting the flowers up. “The sunflowers symbolize adoration, loyalty and longevity,” she looked up at him and smirked. “And the red roses, huh? They mean passion, you know?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Those are my friend’s favourite flowers,” he defended himself. “Not any meaning.”

The girl laughed as she finally gave him the flowers. It was perfect, perfectly balanced and arranged. Besides, it had roses, but not only roses so it was like a subtle way to declare his love. He paid for it and thanked her while leaving to pick up y/n’s mother.

Anna, her mother, was staying at a hotel since she didn’t live in London and since y/n had been gone, she didn’t have a place yet. Tom wondered if it would be too inappropriate to offer his place to y/n, while she arranged everything. It would be nice, having her around, and starting off a relationship like that could be nice. They knew everything about each other, nothing could go wrong from that.

“It’s weird not seeing you on your bike,” Anna said while she got into Tom’s car. She smiled looking at Tom but then bit her lip. She did look at the flowers and she stared at him, making Tom nervous. She had a sad look upon her face.

“So, y/n’s finally back,” Tom tried to make conversation with her mother.

“Yes, have you been speaking to her?” She asked Tom. “

“Barely lately,” Tom admitted. “We did text and everything, but I guess we have a lot to talk about, I’ve missed her so much,” Tom said. “Have you talked to her?”

“Yes, you need to talk… Has she told you about…?” She paused, Tom gulped. “I figure not,” Anna said, staring at the flowers, Tom scowled.

“About what?” Tom bit his lip.

“Ah, nothing, her...adventures,” Anna whispered. “And well, yes, she tried to facetime me every week,” her mother answered.

“We tried doing that, but while filming, and with the different time zones…” Tom cleared his throat. “I just… can’t wait to see her.”

Anna grinned. “I see you brought her flowers,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, a nice way to welcome her, ” Tom admitted. “I know how much she loves flowers.”

“She does, she says flowers make…”

“Everything brighter,” Tom finished her line. “Yeah, yeah, they do, so I brought her sunflowers and daisies… and roses, I also brought her a coat, because I guess she won’t be used to the weather.”

Oh gosh, if only he had told her about his feelings before, maybe he could’ve brought then only red roses, and he could’ve kissed her, and he could’ve brought something more. Maybe he would’ve visited her, maybe there would be more future. But maybe he would’ve still brought her sunflowers and daisies and roses. It would be just slightly different.

Time to time, from time to time. But he wasn’t going to wait, he was going to tell her right away. Of course, if he had time alone with her. It wouldn’t be as nice if he told her in front of her mother. He needed free time with her.

Eventually, they arrived at the airport. His feet were shuffling as he was wearing a baseball cap.

“Are you alright?” Anna asked him.

He gulped. “Yeah, yeah, just scared I won’t recognize her.”

“You dressed up nicely,” Anna pointed out. “Too bad that cap brings down all the charm.”

“Oh, right, right,” he took it off, scared that y/n wouldn’t like his appearance.

“Tom?” Anna looked at him again.

Tom gulped. “Yeah?”

“It’s late,” she sighed.

Tom blinked. “Late? I thought we were on time,” Tom looked at his phone.

Anna sighed. But the time arrived, Tom started to look out for her, his stomach jumping up and down and his heartbeat going fast and almost popping out of his chest. He felt like he had turned paled but at the same time, he felt like he was blushing. It made no sense. He had become dizzy as he tried to look out for her in the crowd.

But then, he saw her, with her skin a bit tan, and her hair longer, she had a bright smile on her face, and even if she looked tired, she looked radiant, her hair was tied up in a bun and she had a hoodie. Tom felt like the whole world had stopped the moment she turned and locked eyes with him, her eyes and her hair, and her skin and her everything. Her smile widened and she didn’t care, she ran over to him. Tom opened up his arms to catch her as she jumped on him, he spun her around holding her tightly, admiring every single thing, taking her essence, and just letting her wrap herself around her. Time had stopped ticking.

He whispered how much he had missed her on her ear and she just giggled. He kissed her cheek as he kept holding her, the hug lasted for more than expected because he just didn’t want to let her go. She tried to let him go, but he kept his arms around her, he stared down at her lips. He was crazy about her.

“Hi,” she finally said as they were looking at each other.

“Hey,” Tom sentenced as he was breathless, helpless, and hopeless. He just wanted to blurt out already. Hell, he could kiss her right away.

“I missed you!” She squeaked.

“I missed you too,” he leaned over to place a peck on her cheek, as he finally let her go, turning red and embarrassed. “Oh, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m cold anyway,” she said, with a big smile. “Your hugs have always been warm.”

“Right…This!” He placed the coat on her. “Uh,” he handed the flowers over as well. “These… these are for you.”

“Thank you,” She blushed as she put the coat on. “Damn, it’s really cold.”

“Aren’t you going to say hi to your mother?” Anna interrupted as y/n turned to her.

“Mum!” She squealed as she hugged her mother.

Tom couldn’t wait to tell her.

They left to the hotel, y/n took a shower and changed to some warmer clothes and despite y/n being completely tired and hit with the jet lag, she accepted to go on dinner. The reservation was already made.

They were laughing at her crazy stories. But all Tom could think was how he should be having his arms around her, and how his lips were supposed to be on hers or how they should be holding hands.

She had her hand on her necklace, but Tom couldn’t see the charm it had on it. She kept hiding it.

“I swear, in the beginning, I was really really confused by the language! But now I can say those Spanish classes paid off,” she answered. “And I learned a lot, even medicine stuff! I had a free day this day, and okay, I was with Miguel we were exploring, he helped me take some pictures.”

Miguel, he didn’t like how that name sounded, but Tom smiled anyway, listening excitedly. He knew Miguel from her Instagram. He clenched his jaw.

“Miguel… as in the guy in your Instagram?” Tom asked with the least poison.

Y/N blushed as she took a sip of her drink. “Yeah, that guy, he’s a doctor,” she took a deep breath.

Great, the guy saves lives.

“So, they reached for us, a kid was ill, apparently he had eaten this plant…what was it? Well, I don’t know, but he was definitely not doing well, so we were in this town, if we can call it that way, in the middle of the jungle, trying to figure out what was the plant, but we spoke with some townspeople and we made this type of serum let’s call it that way, with the root of the plant, and we saved him! But can you imagine how difficult it was trying to figure out what to do without medicine? The poor kid, he was adorable!”

“You’re a superhero,” Tom commented.

“Yes, Spidey, I’m a superhero,” She winked at him. “Gosh, a lot of things happened, and I saw a lot of beautiful places.”

“Indeed, you’re full of adventures, huh?” Anna commented. “Have you told Tom about them all?”

Y/N glanced at her mother. “Well, uh, not everything,” but hey, that might be a good idea! What are you doing tomorrow, Tom? So we can fully catch up?”

“Uh, I actually freed my day for you,” Tom grinned. “Because we truly need to talk.”

“Well, that’s just….” Y/N stayed quiet as she turned to her mother. “But tomorrow,” she turned to her mother. “Would you… pick him up, tomorrow?”

“Pick who up?” Asked Tom, y/n just side-eyed him, while Anna nodded.

“Sure,” her mother agreed.

“Pick who…?”

“So, Tom! When did you come back from filming?” Y/N was sure to change the subject. “I mean, it’s been a few weeks right?”

“Oh, er, yeah… yeah.”

“Another Spider-Man movie, wow, remember when you were out of the MCU? Wow, that was such a hard time, huh? Good thing you’re back in!” y/n said condescendingly.

“That’s something,” Tom added, looking down. “It’s time for a change.”

“Yes, time for a change,” Y/N nodded, as she smiled at Tom, melting him with a single glance directed at him. He felt like all his shields were being tumbled down, he was weak around her. He had missed her, so so so much, and now that he had her, without taking her for granted, he realized how important she was in his life. And he couldn’t wait another day, he had to tell her. He wanted her to be his forever already, to hold her in his arms, to be able to kiss her hand, to be able to wake up beside her.

But it had to wait until tomorrow, he needed to have a speech prepared. The night continued, Tom and Anna admitted they had had breakfast together a few months before because Tom was missing y/n that much so he had the closest thing to her. The conversation had a spectacular flow, listening to her adventures and her shenanigans in Mexico. Eventually, y/n’s eyes were struggling to stay open.

Tom offered his place for both of them, but y/n was quick to resist it. So Tom was going to pick her up the next day.

However, the next day early in the morning Harrison was laughing while Tom was cleaning up himself in front of the mirror.

“What?” Asked Tom, glancing over at Haz.

“Y/N texted me,” Haz answered. “You won’t have her for yourself.”

“Huh?” Tom frowned.

“She invited me over, said we should all hang out.”

“Man, but I need to talk to her,” Tom bit his lip as he leaned against the wall. “Say no.”

“I did, she said she’d drag my ass down if I didn’t,” Haz commented. “Look, you can invite her for dinner.”

“I wanna tell her,” Tom whined. “I wanna just tell her.”

“You can take her to that new pub you said you’ll go with her,” Haz insisted. “And well, she said she wanted to go shopping.”

“Ugh, right, she mentioned she wanted to buy something to Lizzie, it’s her birthday in a few days,” Tom rubbed his face. “Alright, sure, we could spend it as we usually do, brunch, shopping, uh… yeah, then, we can go to the bakery, I wanted to go for a walk in the park, that’s romantic, right?”

“That’s so cheesy,” Haz teased. “But hey, anything to win her heart.” Haz continued. “So have you figured it out? How you’re gonna declare you love for her?”

Tom grinned and then laughed. “Nope.”

“Dude?” Harrison scowled.

“I’m kidding, I kind of… have it figured it out,” Tom started.

“But?” Harrison crossed his arms.

“I need the right time,” Tom shrugged. “That’s why I needed the whole day, to figure out when.”

“Tom, any time is the right time to tell someone you love,” Harrison insisted.

“Fine, then I’ll tell her at the park, or at the pub, maybe I need some alcohol before telling her, at least a beer,” Tom felt nervous again, with his heart rushing and his blood flushing. “I’ll go, y/n, I'm crazy about you. I think about you all the time. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“And then you’ll be happily ever after,” Harrison joked laughing. “I’m happy for you.”

Eventually, Tom and Harrison were waiting at the hotel lobby, and when she saw Harrison she rushed to hug him. “Oh my god, Watson, I missed you!”

“Missed you too, Sherlock!” He said.

Then she looked at Tom, who opened his arms for a hug.

She chuckled and hugged him. “Hmm, you’re wearing cologne again?” She asked him. Tom blushed.

“I always do.” Tom cleared his throat.

“No, I know,you always smell good, but… this one is your… fancy event cologne, and I mean that sounds weird but I know you,” y/n said, glancing up at him. “And you’re all dressed up.”

Tom winked at her. “So, let’s go for brunch,” Tom cleared his throat.

“You’ll be joining us all day, Haz?” Asked y/n.

“Oh, no, no, I have something to do later,” Harrison lied with a nod. “You’ll be alone.”

“Oh, okay, because I have something very important to tell you both, but it can wait.”

“Can’t you tell us at brunch?” Tom asked.

She gulped. “I…”

The day had gone spectacular, however, it had been exhausting. They had followed their old amazing routines to spend the best day together. They went to the usual restaurant where they usually hung out, and Harrison came along. They ordered mimosas and she was laughing too much.

She seemed nervous, too.

“So, what’s that you wanted to tell us?” Haz asked.

She then grabbed her necklace again. “Um,” she looked down at her phone. “I uh...I uh, started… writing a book!”

“A book?” Tom grinned. “That’s amazing!”

“Yes, and I will… continue working for BBC, I’ll be an official reporter!” She grinned, nodding, her hand still on her necklace.

“I’m so proud of you,” Tom said.

They continued to eat.

“You look so different, y/n,” Haz said.

“Yeah,” y/n chuckled. “The hair, maybe, got a tan,” she admitted.

“You look beautiful,” Tom said, looking into her eyes.

She blushed and chuckled. “Thanks, Tommy.”

Haz criticized them for always ordering the same damn thing from the menu, then they, as usual, ended up ordering two desserts so they could both enjoy both of the sweet pastries while eating from each other’s plate (of course, Haz didn’t suppress his critics because a. That was too cheesy, and b. Who orders dessert in breakfast?). They went to explore together all the mall searching for a gift for Lizzie. Tom had used the day to tell her all of his adventures, shenanigans, and misconceptions he had had along his trip in the last months, and his adventures while filming. She had kept quiet, listening intrigued all his stories. It was unusual, she was quiet, not sad but different. Her sight was lost.

Oh, Tom could not stop watching her, the way her fingers walked through the dressers, or the ways her eyes were riveted on the different gifts, it was the most impressive sight Tom had seen. He was seeing her with different eyes, or maybe, after all this time, he finally realized the right way to watch her. He was not blind anymore.

After all that, finally both of them were alone, y/n and Tom went to the bakery. He guessed what she wanted to have but she seemed so...off. She didn’t guess what he wanted to have.

But he kept asking her about her trip and everything.

Tom was anxious, he guessed it had to be due to the fact of the last incident they shared together.

Tom took her to the park, place where he had finally decided to take her.

“We’ve never been to the park before,” she commented. Her eyes were glued on her phone.

Tom shrugged. “Thought it’d be nice,” he commented. “I’ve come here all the time you were away.”

“You missed me that much?” She laughed.

“I did,” Tom admitted. “I usually came here to see the old couples, they’re adorable.”

“Really?” Y/N chuckled.

“Yes, they made me believe in love…” Tom said, glancing at her. “Maybe it does exist, maybe it’s been right in front of me.”

Y/N wasn’t aware she was looking at him, she kept watching the couples.

“I… y/n, I think we left on bad terms and…”

“No, no, that’s alright, all of it, it’s forgotten.” She looked nervous, Tom watched her clumsy and fast movements. She was now texting on her phone, with an expression that Tom knew perfectly, it was the look that hid something. Tom had not taken noticed how much he had missed her, and because of his recent realization of his feelings for her, it was a little hard work not to get dizzy or stunned by her.

He knew that it probably was the right time to tell her everything he felt for her, yes, it was time. These six months without her, him working and her in Latin America, it was impossible to contact her, so even if they had been apart for a while he knew it could work out, after all, they were the best of friends. But they had so much to tell. Yet, it was time. He did not know how to tell her, though, going: 'hey, I decided to leave my playboy life for you, because I realized that all this was an act to cover the emptiness I have, and oh, I have always been in love with you.'

“So, now we’re finally alone,” y/n commented.

“Yes, I needed this,” Tom said, reaching over for her hand. “You’re cold.”

“Well, I mean, I’m not used to this weather, spent 6 months in Mexico in Quintana Roo, quite a hot place, so I’m..” Y/N nodded. “It was good.”

“You’re tanned,” Tom smiled, as he watched her. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, her eyes flickering and the way her smile was lopsided. She didn’t need the red dress or all the makeup, all she needed was that smile she had.

“Yes, and you’re pale,” she chuckled.

“I…” He wanted to tell her. “I...missed you so much,” he said.

“I know,” she laughed. “I missed you too… Hey, so at what time’s the party?”

Tom blinked. “The…?”

“It slipped from Haz,” she chuckled. “I mean I can still act surprised when we arrive,” she laughed.

“You were not supposed to know,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s later…”

“Yeah, and I mean, Haz not wanting to hang out? And you bringing me to the park?” She grinned. “That’s a nice way to stall around.”

Tom gulped. “Yeah, I guess.”

“What’s got you all nervous, Tom?” She pointed out.

“I mean, all this time has given me a lot of time to think,” he gulped. “I… feel like we truly have been avoiding this and I don’t…”

Y/N gulped. “Tom, you’re my best friend,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah, and you’re mine,” he said.

She stepped right in front of him, she was tense. “I need to tell you something.”

“You do?” Tom asked, squeezing her hand. Her phone started to ring. "Look, that’s that’s… a coincidence, y/n there is something ..." That was a start.

“Wait, I need to take this…” She took her phone and walked away. Tom sighed.

Suddenly, a big smile was on her face. “Tom, we need to get back to the hotel!”

“Back to the…?” He frowned.

“Yes, you’ll understand,” she said as she dragged him back to the car.

She spent the whole ride texting. Tom wasn’t concentrating while driving. His heart was going to bump out of his chest. The ride was rather quick.

They went to the hotel bar. They both ordered a beer.

“Y/N, I really need…”He gulped. “I… y/n, you’re my best friend in the world, and this 6 months,” he started out again. But she kept her eyes glued to her phone.

“What?” She looked up. “Sorry, sorry, what were you saying?” Y/N gulped.

“y/n can you explain--?”

"He's here!" She shrieked excitedly, as she looked down at her phone again. She sketched a mischievous smile, Tom looked at her confused as she made her way to the entrance where Tom observed she hugged a stranger. He saw Anna there as well, smiling. What was happening?

The man was bold and handsome, they were holding hands when they arrived, causing Tom to want to pass out. He saw him. He saw him. The hazel-eyed handsome boy he had seen on her Instagram. The tan big boy on her Instagram. The guy who had had his lips on y/n’s. Jealousy was a word that fell short for what he was feeling. Tom decided to order a whiskey.

"Tom ... I want to introduce you, to the love of my life," y/ n's voice was shrill. "Miguel."

“The…? What?” Tom felt that his stomach burn, and he knew that he was going to faint at any moment. Clearly, it was not the time to declare his love for her.

"Hello," said the boy offering him a hand, Tom shook it surprised. "I can not believe I'm meeting Spider-Man."

And Tom could not believe whatever that was happening was happening. It must be a nightmare.

He looked at y/n’s mother who waved a sad goodbye at him.

"Would you give me a moment?" Tom wanted to go to the bathroom to throw water to his face so he could wake up from this nightmare, but when he turned around, he made a waiter stumble over him throwing away his food. It was a complete disaster.

"Sorry, sorry," Tom apologized, as the waiter shook his head cleaning it.

Tom sat back, ignoring the panorama. "What ... what...where were we?" Tom said as the couple took a seat and the waiter brought him his whiskey, which Tom drank before the waiter had even left. Tom ordered another whiskey.

"This is what you wanted to tell me?" Tom asked, nervously, unbuttoning the collar of his shirt.

“You haven’t told him?” Miguel grinned, wrapping an arm around her.

"Something like that, well, well, I met Miguel in Mexico," Y/N explained, unable to take her eyes off the handsome young man. Tom listened interested. "It was so romantic."

"Oh, and why did I not know about this?" Tom asked with as little poison as possible.

"I wanted it to be a surprise, and I also did not have time to tell you, or no phone whatsoever," y/n continued. "Wait, I did tell you! It's the boy I met the day I got lost in the jungle ... It was raining, my truck broke down, remember? And I mean it’s not like you haven’t seen my instagram pictures."

"Ah, it's him." Tom gave her a fake smile.

"Yes, it's me," said Miguel with an accent that Tom guessed was making y/n sick or something, because she looked… flushed . He had intense green eyes that were accentuated by his tanned skin. "Well, I just helped her with her truck, and that’s it."

"You're the doctor then, huh?" Tom turned to Miguel. “He is … he is the guy from your stories.”

"Yes! But, alas, Miguel here likes to takes away the romantic part, he arrived like a prince to my rescue. "

"Princes do not normally ride motorcycles," Miguel teased sweetly. Tom wanted to vomit.

"You do," she said as he kissed her. Tom poured down his whiskey, and the waiter watched and caught the situation and quickly brought him another one. "Well, that day, I had a free day, I was gonna go out and explore the town, I borrowed this truck from this family, it wasn’t like a new one but I thought it would…” She laughed. “Well, it was very old, and it started to stop working, and I freaked out… It started pouring and suddenly, it was just me surrounded by mud and just no clue where to go. Of course, I’m in damn nowhere because we were filming in the...Selva Lacandona. There are no street signs anywhere and it's getting dark.”

“I think she thought she was in some bad Indiana Jones movie!” Miguel laughed.

Tom just smiled. He felt like he wanted to die right there.

“So, anyway, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, Miguel comes riding a motorcycle, and asks me if I need any help! He came to my rescue because I was completely lost, and he took me with him to this hut in the village, this nearby indigenous town, where he bought me the best coffee I ever had, he took care of my cold, we started to hang out, and we realized that ... we were meant to be. We spent the whole time together.”

Debatable, thought Tom .

“We didn’t like each other at the beginning,” Miguel admitted. “Well, she didn’t like me.”

“Is that so?” Tom asked with a fake grin.

Y/N nudged Miguel. “That’s not true, I was just stressed that he seemed to be making fun of me such a city girl,” she laughed. “But he managed to make me fall for him,” she kissed him again. “I mean, you can’t blame I was so stressed… But then when we arrived at the town and I saw how kind he was with everyone, I just…” She looked Miguel in the eyes and kissed him again.

Tom rolled his eyes as he looked away.

“So what were you doing there?” Tom asked Miguel. “Why is a doctor in the middle of the jungle?”

“I uh, I decided to live in the jungle for a bit, they usually don’t have doctors there and I wanted to help the village out,”

“Isn’t he the best?” y/n chuckled.

“Indeed,” Tom gulped.

"But well, how couldn’t I fall for him?” She chuckled.

“Of course, how couldn’t you,” Tom clenched his jaw.

“Long story short…”

"You fell in love," Tom finished her sentence, the waiter had already brought him another whiskey. He started to sip this one slowly. He was sweating.

“And ...Then I realized that she was about to leave,” Miguel explained. “I realized we had so little time together.”

Y/N finally pulled out her necklace, without showing the charm. She took it off and hid the charm on her hand. Tom watched her carefully.

“So I just realized that I couldn’t let her leave,” Miguel said, looking her in the eyes. “Because I fell in love with her the first moment I saw her.”

You and me both, Tom thought.

Y/N smiled, not taking off his eyes from him.

“So I did what any man with sense would’ve done,” he gulped. “I got down on one knee and…”

“We’re engaged!” She finally showed the charm, which was an engagement ring. She placed in on her left hand.

Tom almost spat out his drink.

"What? How?" Tom blinked repeatedly as he watched them.

"He proposed to me and I accepted!"

"Yeah, well, that's what ... What?" Tom was cold. This was an even worse nightmare.

"We know it's soon but when I see her, I look at her and I know she's the only person I need in my life, she's the answer to all my questions," Miguel said before kissing her.

"Te amo," she told him and then turned back to Tom."Isn't he adorable?"

"Yes, yes he is ..."Tom gurgled.

"Yeah, well, and I know it's soon ... But, thw wedding’s coming together very quickly actually, we’re gonna get married back in Mexico, small thing, we don’t expect a lot of people to book a flight overseas in a month…”

“A month?” Tom frowned. “As in new years eve..?”

“Yes! I thought it would be romantic, to start my new life with him,” Y/N said.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” Miguel smirked.

“Very,” Tom frowned.

“And it’s in a very pretty place, near where we met, in Bacalar, Quintana Roo…”She continued. “But anyway, I was here to ask you ... I know you’ll never get married, but I thought, you're my best friend, the bestest friend in the world Tom, so ... "

Tom could not say anything.

"I won't ask you for anything else, so Tom, would you be my maid of honour?"

"You ..." Tom began to feign a laugh, as he stood up. "Your maid of honour?"

The waiter arrived with another whiskey, which Tom knocked down when he stopped.

"Man!" The waiter complained.

“Sorry, sorry, but… I…” Tom couldn’t believe what he had just heard. “Your maid of honour?”

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miwromantics · 4 years

Text

A New Song From Vinny

It was just another normal day in Scranton, the seasons were changing from summer to fall. This was your favorite time of year. Colors of red and orange took over the trees, cold crisp air made it perfect for wearing sweaters and skinny jeans. You woke up earlier than your boyfriend, Vinny, which was usually the other way around. You rolled over to see him with his arm over his chest and his hands reaching out. You smiled. He always looked so peaceful when he slept. Grabbing his hands, you snuggle up next to him which made Vinny take a deep breath in as he awoke.

“Mornin’ baby,” he said in a raspy voice.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, Vin. Go back to sleep I’ll make you some breakfast,” you said as you kissed his cheek.

He smiled, still with his eyes closed, and rolled on to his back.

You watched him as he laid over, his chest breathing in deeply as he fell back asleep. You thought about how you could wake him up another way, but he just looked too comfy in the sheets. Throwing on your favorite black velvet robe, you head out of the bedroom to the kitchen to start making breakfast.

You played some music on your phone while you cooked, humming and dancing around the kitchen. As you made a cute, little plate for Vinny you felt his arms wrap around your stomach.

“You’re the sweetest girlfriend ever, you know that right Y/N?” Vinny whispered in your ear.

You smiled and turned around to be face to face with him. His hair was all messy and curly from his slumber and you thought to yourself how that’s how his hair looks like after you’ve both had sex.

“I just wanted you to have a great start to your day hun!” and you kiss him. He chuckled and kissed you back, a little longer than you just did. He looked at you with his dark blue eyes, with a hint of passion behind them.

“Eat your breakfast babe, you’ve got a long day ahead of you,” you say after a few seconds. He sighed with a little disappointment but grabbed his plate you made him and walked over to the couch. You made yourself a plate, poured a cup of coffee and sat beside him. He turns on Netflix and puts an episode of The Office on. You’ve both seen the show a million times but it was good background noise to have on while you both ate your food.

Today, Vinny had band practice with the rest of Motionless In White at their little studio at Ricky’s home. They were working on recording some ideas that they had for another album. You were going to miss him while he was gone, but you were glad to have a day to yourself in your home.

“You’ve got any special plans today Y/N? You know that you could always come over and hang out while we record.” Vinny said to you with a mouthful of food.

“I’m thinking of working on some paintings, maybe go downtown and pick up some new brushes, who knows,” you answer.

“Doesn’t sound as fun as hanging out with a bunch of boys writing metal music!” he laughed.

“Oh hush Vin! I’ll be fine, maybe I’ll swing by after a few hours,” you reply.

His eyes light up. You could tell that what you just said made him happy.

“You really want me to come over, don’t you?” you asked.

He blushed a little and smiled down at his food. You sensed that something was up but couldn’t tell if he was just being gushy or he actually had something planned.

“You should just try and come over later, that’s all I’m going to say Y/N” he answered.

Your thoughts started racing. What could be going down at the studio? Was the rest of Motionless in on it too? He could tell by your silence that you were thinking about the hints he was dropping. He stood up, grabbed your plate from you and headed back to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.

“C’mon Y/N, let's go sit outside for a bit,” he called to you.

You grabbed a blanket from the couch, filled your cup back up and followed him to the back porch. He held the door for you and touched your back as you walked past him. You both sit on the swing that overlooked the back yard. You thought of how perfect this moment is; sitting with Vinny in the cool weather, having coffee.

“This is great, isn’t it?” he said after you snuggled up to his chest, his arm wrapped around you.

“Couldn’t be better babe,” you said, “I could sit out here all day with you and be completely content.”

He smiled and took a sip of his coffee. “I could always bail on the boys!” he laughed.

“No! You gotta go Vin, plus you have to be there for my surprise or whatever you’ve got planned up your sleeve,” you answered.

He had a smug grin on his face. The more you picked at the idea of a surprise his grin got bigger and bigger. Something was definitely up.

After an hour or so, he gets up to get ready for the day. He kisses you on the forehead before heading back inside. You smile and think of how sweet and caring he can be. A few minutes later and you head back inside. He was pulling out some clothes and packing a backpack for the day. You walk past him and into the bathroom where you start the shower. Leaving the door open, you undo your robe and let your pajamas slide off your body. You turn around to see Vinny stopped packing his backpack and staring at you with lustful eyes. You smile at him and step into the shower. He walks over and opens the shower door.

“You’re so fucking sexy Y/N, do you even know what you’re doing to me right now?” Vinny asked.

“You’ve got time for a quick shower right?” you said.

Vinny checked his phone for the time.

“Babe I’ve got to be at Rick’s house in 15 minutes.”

You looked at him clearly disappointed. Why would he turn down a quickie in the shower with you?

“It’s alright, Vin. I’ll see you later today,” you said in a sad tone.

“I’m sorry Y/N, this recording session that we’re doing today is an important one for us. As much as I’d love to fuck you in the shower right now, I gotta go.” He looked you up and down one last time before heading out of the room.

Frustrated and a little hurt, you finished your shower and put on some clothes. You looked at yourself in the mirror and thought about how weird that shower situation was. But you just took his word and told yourself that the surprise would be worth missing sex in the shower.

You finished getting ready by putting on a black oversized knitted sweater, leggings, and some fuzzy socks. You headed to the spare bedroom where the space was half of your paintings and sketches while the other half was Vinny’s drum set and a computer station. You sighed and picked up a canvas. Staring at it for a few moments, you tried to come up with a concept to draw but couldn’t think of anything. All you could think about was Vin. Since he left the house, your phone was silent. No texts from him. No snapchats. Nothing. It was bumming you out even more.

You decided that being creative today was just not going to happen, so you decided to head downtown to pick up those new paintbrushes you needed. While you were out, you texted Vinny.

“Hey, babe. How’s it going?”

A few moments later Vinny replied.

“Missing you. You coming over soon??”

Your mood lightened that the sight of that.

“I’ll be done shopping soon, maybe 30 minutes?” you texted back.

He replied with three black heart emojis.

You headed back to your car and drove over to Ricky’s house. While you parked your car on the street and stepped out, you heard the front door open and close. Turning your head you see Vinny and Ryan walking down the driveway to greet you.

“What’s up Y/N! Good to see your goth ass again” Ryan joked as he bear-hugged you. You always liked Ryan. He was always so nice to you and got your sense of humor.

You turned to Vinny.

“Hey babe,” he said as he went to hug you. While holding you he whispered, “I haven’t gotten the image of you naked in the shower. It’s all I can think about.”

You blushed and he kissed you hard on the lips.

“Aw cut that shit out!” Ryan said, acting like he was about to throw up.

“Grow up loser!” you joked back at him, flicking him off in the process and kissing Vinny back.

You all laughed and walked back to the front door. Not even a few steps inside, you hear a collective shouting of your name. Ricky is the first to run up to you and give you a big hug.

“What took you so long getting here?? We’ve been waiting for you to hear this new song!” he said after he hugged you.

“Really? I didn’t think you guys had a song formed already? Vin didn’t say much about what you guys have been working on.” you said.

Chris stood up from the couch and walked over to greet you with a smile on his face.

“Oh, you have no idea how hard we’ve been working on this song, all of us!” Chris said as he hugged you.

Things were starting to get exciting. A new song from Motionless? And they wanted you to be the first person to hear it? You had butterflies in your stomach.

“Well enough chit-chatting, let’s hear it!” you exclaim.

Vinny takes your hand and you follow the guys to the studio. Ricky put a lot of work into his studio, it was probably the biggest room in his house. It had Vinny’s other drum set, Ricky and Ryan’s multiple guitars and amps, Justin’s basses and some microphones for Chris. The lighting was dim but cozy. Two couches lined the walls on looking at the band’s set up. The guys had taken seats on the couch, Ricky sat at his computer. Vinny sat down and pulled you down next to him. He held your hand tightly and his leg was bouncing up and down.

“You okay, Vin?” you whispered to him.

He just nodded his head.

You didn’t think much of it. Instead, you slapped your hand down on your thigh and yelled, “Alright! Let’s jam this!”

Ryan clapped and hooted with you.

Chris shot a look at him and Ryan piped down. Chris looked over at you.

“Y/N. Listen. This song is very different for us. It’s a love song. Now I know what you’re thinking! ‘Motionless doing a love song? The fuck?’ I promise you it’s still heavy and goth, but it’s very much a love song.”

You nodded your head and prepared to listen. Vinny’s hand tightened even more on yours. Ricky hit play and the studio was booming. Chris was right at describing the song for you. It was very heavy for them but the lyrics were chalked up with beautiful lines. After it played, all heads turned to you to get your opinion. Vinny’s leg was bouncing even more than it was before.

“Well Y/N… what do you think?” Justin asked you.

You took a deep breath and looked at all of them.

“You guys have really outdone yourself, I’ll say that now,” you answered, “the lyrics were something else though! Chris, what gave you all of this inspiration of love and beauty? Did you meet someone?” you joked.

Chris had a smirk on his face. “I didn’t write these lyrics Y/N.” You looked at Ricky.

“Alright Olsen, what made you write this?” you asked.

Ricky just shook his and pointed to Vinny, which made him let go of your hand and stand up. You leaned back on the couch and looked at him. His eyes were looking at the computer with his back toward you.

“Vin, you wrote that? All of that?” you said in shock.

All he did was nod his head. The room fell quiet. After a few moments, Ryan broke the silence saying “I bet you really like the song now Y/N!”

Vinny turned around and looked you dead in the eyes. You could’ve cut the tension with a knife. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

“I wrote that for you. I’ve been writing the lyrics for a while now. Ricky helped me write the music for it and -“ Vinny mumbled softly.

You stood up from the couch and walked over to him. You took his face in your hands and kissed him passionately. It felt like you two were the only ones in the room, other than the fact that Ryan and Justin were making kissy noises at you both.

“Cut that shit out!”, Chris hissed at them, “I don’t see you writing love songs for your girlfriends, let them have this!” Ryan and Justin quieted down. Ricky had a huge smile on his face and fist-bumped Vinny. “I told you she’d love it dude!” he told Vinny. Vinny laughed and hugged you and pulled you back down to the couch.

“Now you see why I wanted you to be here today Y/N,” he said as he pulled you closer to him.

All you could do was smile and shake your head. The rest of the night all of you sat around the studio talking about other new music and ideas that Chris and Ricky were working on.

#motionless in white #vinny mauro #motionless in white imagines #chris motionless #ricky horror #ryan sitkowski #justin marrow #ricky olson

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orengjijyuusu · 5 years

Text

Articles of Clothing (A Jinguji Ren fanfic)

Okay so I wrote this prior to the release of Ren's new solo album, "Rose Rose Romance." It's basically about how Ren got his inspiration for the cover art of his *cough* strip tease *cough* album. The boys will all be in it so enjoy!

"We need to think of the concept art for your upcoming album, Jinguji." The visiting photographer ponders while pacing the room.

The strawberry blonde idol looks attentively at the possible designs and themes of his latest single, "Rose Rose Romance." He retorts at the photographers various pitches, going back and forth with how the wardrobe would be drawn up.

Across the table, Nanami is busy composing her next arrangement for Syo's upcoming album. She scribbles notes on sheet music feverishly, not really paying attention to the two discussing their business. Despite being insistent on NOT needing to be present at a meeting involving photoshoots and album artwork, Ren had successfully convinced her to accompany him for, "moral support" reasons.

The composer automatically knew the role of being, "moral support" was poppycock, but how could she say no when he worked so hard on this project. Plus Ren could possibly draw some inspiration from the score now that she thought about it; so maybe she could be of non "moral support" use yet.

"My lady." His velvety voice breaks her concentration, causing her head to snap up in response. Ren's cheek is cupped into his palm while he smiles knowingly at her; it seems he had been calling her name for a bit.

Nanami blinks, "Sorry, I was in the zone. What's up?" She quickly straightens her stack of paperwork in her lap.

"May I see our arrangement?" He asks politely, with heavy emphasis on "our." "It would help a lot with the wardrobe theme I'm going for."

She nods and sifts through her folder, eventually finding the sheet music and handing it across the table to the idol. He gives her a wink before mouthing, "thank you." Nanami smiles bashfully and watches as Ren scans the piece.

The photographer waits expectantly as Ren begins humming the tune to himself, the gears of his mind turning as he thinks of the overall message of his album.

After a minute, he places the papers on the table and turns to the photographer. "This song is obviously very sensual, in composition and in lyrics. We definitely need roses in this. And we need something that epitomizes that message in terms of dress. We something daring, something passionate, something..." he purposefully glances over at Nanami with a teasing sultry gaze, "Something sexy."

Her face goes red at the comment and buries her growing blush in the paperwork.

Ren laughs at his composer exhibiting such an adorable reaction to his shameless flirts. He's still happy he can get a reaction like that from her despite using it numerous times during their development with Starish.

Meanwhile, the photographer ignores the underlying comment the idol made and took it as inspiration instead. "That's our Jinguji Ren for you! Always knowing what style to go for! This is plenty of ideas, thank you so much!!" They throw their hands in the air, "Oh I have so much to do now! I have to plan. I have to set up the wardrobe department. I have-I have to order all the fabrics!"

Ren chuckles and holds his hands up, "I'm looking forward to seeing what you come up with. Thank you for your hard work." He and Nanami bow at the photographer.

"Yes! Thank you for your hard work!" The photographer scrambles to pick up their files, "I must be going now! I have IDEAS brewing! Come by the studio on Friday. I'll be in touch!!" They rush out of the room with enthusiasm, leaving the two clients alone.

Both Nanami and Ren breathe a sigh of relief once they leave. Who knew photographers had so much energy. Ren turns to Nanami with expectant eyes, "May I treat you to dinner, my lady?" Nanami shoulders her bag and places her folders inside, "Maybe next time, I just got a melody I could use for Syo's new song and I don't want to lose the thought."

Nanami could have swore she saw Ren's shoulders slump at her rejection to the invitation, however he smiles and gives her head a pat.

"That's our composer. Hard at work." He chuckles lightheartedly.

Nanami looks up at him and notices his naturally drooping eyelids. It's not that he was sad, that's just how Ren's eyes normally look. But goddangit it wasnt helping the feeling of guilt growing in her chest. She purses her lips and thinks for a hot moment. Then she looks back up with a smile, "But, I wouldn't be opposed to stopping somewhere and getting ice cream."

The idol's eyes upturn the second she offers. He gives her a teasing smirk, "Making time for me, hmm? You truly have a heart of gold, my lady."

"You offered in the first place." Nanami erupts in a fit of giggles as they leave to go back to the agency.

*Later...*

"I assume your meeting went alright?" Masato asks, not looking up from his calligraphy as Ren walks into the room. His roommate throws his bag onto his desk and stretches his arms out, "We have an idea. Our lady came quite in handy with the composition."

Masato's eyebrow twitches, "I swear, stop dragging Nanami everywhere. You're putting her through a lot of trouble what with all the important work she needs to do. Distractions won't help her in the slightest."

Ren plops himself on his bed and yawns, "You're no fun as usual. Lucky for me, we went out for ice cream to end our PRODUCTIVE day. Which was LOTS of fun by the way."

The bluenette slaps his brush onto the rice paper in irritation, "Everytime you go somewhere with her, it always turns into date night for you." He growls.

"Jealous?" Ren scoffs, leaning on his elbow to look smugly at Masato.

His roommate rips away the ruined calligraphy and starts on a fresh piece, "Like I would ever want to stoop down to your level. Unlike you, I have impulse control."

Ren rolls his eyes so far back he swore he could see his brain, "Whatever. I'm not going to be irked by your party pooping attitude. Gotta put my best foot forward for the ladies when I do my photo shoot."

He sits up briefly and strips himself down to his briefs. After carelessly tossing his clothes to the floor, he turns on his side and shuts off his lamp, "Goodnight, bowlhead."

Masato makes a "Tch!" sound with his teeth before concentrating again. "At least shower in the morning, idiot." He mumbles.

*The Next Day*

"No no! It's all wrong!!" The photographer groans, walking up to Ren as he poses with some roses.

The idol sighs and places the flowers on the floor, "I agree, something feels off about the setting."

The photographer places his chin in his hand, "No it's not that...its the outfit. I...I dont know why but it doesn't look right. It looked fine before..."

The two wrack their brains trying to figure out another solution for the cover photo, however each idea seemed to stay farther from what they originally wanted for the theme.

"Let's mix it up a bit. Wardrobe, we need to discuss." The photographer snaps their fingers and two staff members come over with a rack of clothes and sketch pads.

Ren exhales exhaustingly and goes to sit in the makeup department to do touch ups. As he lets the staff do their work, he notices Nanami through the mirror followed closely by his superior, Ranmaru.

Without turning around, he raises a hand and stares straight at the two in the reflection, "Hey, what brings you two here?"

Nanami walks to the side of his chair and hands him a bento, "Courtesy of Kotobuki bento. Hijirikawa noticed you didn't really eat anything for breakfast so we brought it over."

Ren takes it with a loving smile, "I appreciate it, lady."

"Tch..." Ranmaru scoffs quietly, "I'm the one who actually got it from that idiot." He saunters off towards the snack table.

"Of course, thank you as well, Ran-chan." Ren chuckles before turning serious.

"I don't mean to have you both see me like this but...turns out my photo shoot isn't going as planned. I'm sorry I couldn't gather enough from your song, lady." He gives her a sad smile.

The composer clutches her folders to her chest, "That's not true, Jinguji-san. You always have an amazing sense of style. That's a fact."

"My lady..." Ren's eyes widen slightly in surprise.

"When I saw you look at the score the other day, you looked so focused." Nanami puts her folders on the makeup table and squeezes his arm resting on the chair, "I could see the ideas churning in your head. So I know you can do it!"

The idol smirks, then brings his lips to the hand on his arm for a quick kiss.

Nanami briefly feels her soul leave her body before recovering.

"Always so encouraging. Where would we be without you, lady?" He hums.

Nanami clears her throat at her sudden outburst and looks away, "A-Anyways, what are you having trouble with, Jinguji-san? Maybe Kurosaki-senpai and I could help." She looks over to Ranmaru stuffing his face with bananas over by the snack table. Or just me, she thinks with a helpless smile.

Ren leans back in his chair, "Well that's what we are trying to find out. It's the clothing that was picked out for me." He turns his head to the photographer looking through his pictures, "Excuse me, is it alright if I take a look at what we have so far?"

The photographer sighs and brings over the camera while still looking at the screen, "Go ahead. Good luck trying to find something." They hand Ren the camera and walk off elsewhere.

He tilts the screen so Nanami can see as he clicks through each photo.

She hums to herself while analyzing Ren's outfit, "I'm no fashion expert but…" she gently tugs the camera away from his grip, "Aren't there too many clothing articles?"

Ren raises an eyebrow, "Oh, how so?"

The composer peers closer, "I mean--you have two jackets here. One around your waist and one you are actually wearing. And there's a loose scarf…"

"Looks more like winter wear than the passionate look you're going for." Ranmaru says over Nanami's shoulder, causing her to jump a little.

He ignores her reaction and bites into a banana, "If you want passion, you could stand to show some skin, ya know." He grunts before walking off again.

Nanami taps her chin with her finger, "That could work…"

Skin… Ren snaps his head up, "That's it!! I got it!" He jumps up out of his chair and walks over to the photographer. He whispers something to them before their face lights up with inspiration.

"BRILLIANT!! Alright we have a lead! Jinguji, head to the dressing room. I need the makeup department on him, stat! This photo shoot can be saved yet!"

Nanami's face lights up at the good news, "What's the idea, Jinguji-san?"

He shrugs off his jackets and turns to her with a wink, "That you'll have to find out for yourself, lady. I'm going to embrace what Ran-chan said earlier about 'showing some skin.' Wish me luck!"

He gives her head a pat and walks to the dressing room. At that point, Ranmaru makes his way back over to Nanami.

"He get an idea?" He asks, taking a sip from his water bottle.

"Yes, apparently Jinguji is heeding your advice, Kurosaki-san." Nanami chirps happily.

Ranmaru nearly chokes on his drink, "*cough* *cough* Say what now?!" He sputters.

The composer gives the idol a confused look, "Is something wrong?"

"I dont know why, but I got a feeling he's going to do something extremely stupid." He shudders while wiping his mouth.

Nanami chuckles nervously, "I-Is that so…?"

*A week later*

Ren let's out a yawn as he makes his way over to the lounging area. The photo shoot continued without a hitch, and by now the CDs should already be out on the shelves. He honestly couldn't wait to see the others reactions to his album.

The first thing he notices is the usual gaggle of guys gathered tightly around the coffee table, talking feverishly amongst themselves. As Ren approaches, the shortest member of Starish hears him first and jumps up in a fury.

"Ren!! What the hell is THIS!?" Syo shouts in disbelief, poking a finger aggressively at the album.

Bingo, Ren says with a devilish smile, Just the reaction I was hoping for. He smiles innocently, "Whatever could you mean, Shorty?"

"Cut the crap!! You know what I'm talking about! This!!" Syo shoves the CD album in his face, his face as red as a tomato.

There he was, printed for all the lovely ladies to see, completely shirtless...and pantless.

"Well, as you can plainly see, THAT is a CD cover." Ren retorts with a playful smirk.

"Why you-!" Before Syo can blow a fuse, Otoya steps in.

"Now now, let's not get too overworked." He laughs nervously before doing a complete 180 on Ren. "Ren, you are clearly NAKED! What--Just wha--I can't…" He clutches the album in disbelief, unable to form proper sentences.

"Hey now, they made sure to cut out the more 'daring' parts. Even I have standards." Ren winks lightheartedly at the group.

"The whole CONCEPT is daring!" Tokiya blurts before covering the blush on his face.

"That's our Ren! Always going the extra mile. So cool!!" Natsuki exclaims with a beaming face.

Cecil looks down in disappointment, "Aww, we could have done stuff like that? No fair!"

"No! One Ren is enough for this group!!" Syo shouts in response.

The strawberry blonde can't stop grinning from ear to ear. He was SO enjoying this. Suddenly, a copy of the album hits him in the face. He topples backward and onto the floor, wincing at the stinging sensation erupting on his forehead. Ren looks up to see Masato on his feet, looking the most pissed of them all.

"THANK YOU, Hijirikawa!" Syo raises his hands up.

"M-Masa, that was a bit unnecessary…" Otoya says nervously.

Masato's face is still stoic, however he failed to hide the red tint on his ears. "You...I can't believe you!" He has the most trouble forming words.

"I know, it's SO shocking. Honestly Hijirikawa, I thought you knew me better." His roommate says sarcastically.

"Yeah but I didn't think you'd actually be crazy enough to DO it. You think I'M shocked, look at poor Nanami!" He gestures to the sofa behind the idols. Nanami lay curled up with her face buried in a pillow. One could almost imagine steam rising off the top of her head. "She's been like that for 15 minutes!"

Ren bashfully scratches the back of his head, "She DID say I had too many articles of clothing on my body."

Otoya and Syo sit down beside her and copy her position with their own pillows, "It's okay Nanami, we are just as shocked!!" Otoya whimpers while holding Syo in his arms.

"Guys, I think we are overreacting. Don't worry, Ren! I support you!" Natsuki places a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Tokiya does the same, "I do too. I'm sorry. I was overcome with shock earlier."

Their fellow colleague sighs, "I'm glad to hear it. But I have a feeling you all won't be able to let this go so easily."

"Definitely not." Tokiya chides.

"It's blackmail material now." Syo mutters, looking up from the pillow.

"We won't ever let you live this down." Cecil smiles at Ren.

"We'll tease you about this until the day you die." Ittoki laughs evilly.

"Because we love you, though." Natsuki adds on.

Masato discreetly shakes his head and makes a face.

Ren laughs and walks over to Nanami, "You saved me again, lady. Don't ever forget it." He ruffles her hair.

Nanami curls up tighter, "I don't think I can, Jinguji-san." She mutters in the pillow.

*elsewhere*

"Whoo! That's our sexy kouhai! Show off that skin!" Reiji whoops as he watches a coverage of Ren's album on TV.

"The bastard went and did it!" Ranmaru cringes and buries his face in his hands,"I should have kept my damn mouth shut!"

Camus' stares distastefully at the screen while a pile of sugar forms in his tea cup and onto the table. He throws a glare Ranmaru's way, "Figures you would be the one to give him such immature ideas. Have you no shame?"

"Okay first off, fuck you! No one was talking to you, damn butler!" Ranmaru growls, not even turning to directly return fire at his colleague.

"I imagine the other members of Starish are quite shocked as well." Ai adds quietly, "Though I can imagine the ratings will rise 112% because of him."

"Ne ne! We should do a nude photo shoot with all four of us! It'll be super fun and sexy!" Reiji winks at them with excitement.

"No. Do it yourself." All three respond immediately.

"You're so mean!!!"

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mistiedwagonfyre · 4 years

Text

M(erry) Monday: Just Some Get to Know You Stuff...

So I got these from moonysmind so I should probably @ them...

@moonysmind-blog

Ok, let's get this party started!

1. Do you prefer writing with black or blue pen?

Blue if I'm writing something, black if I'm outlining a paper. But overall, black pens are my go-to just because I have more of them. I seriously need to stock up on blue pens... Also, who uses a red pen for anything other than corrections just because that's the way they've been taught?

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or the city?

The Country. Or somewhere in the middle. I just feel like I'd be able to manage less people over more people and get to know them more personally. And, let's be honest, the country has gorgeous skies and sprawling fields and meadows. And it feels like you could take a deep breath and just absorb the atmosphere.

3. If you could learn a new skill, what would it be?

Balance. It would help in everything because yours truly is a ball of clumsy fluff.

4. Do you drink your tea or coffee with sugar?

Heh, I drink hot chocolate with marshmallows so...

5. What was your favourite book as a child?

Anything I could get my hands on. I. Love. Books. My favorite series as a kindergartener was the Magic Tree House tho.

6. Do you prefer baths or showers?

Depends on my mood. Baths are for when I've got tons of time to just relax and get my mind off things and showers remind me of rain and I love them too. I take showers more often but that doesn't mean anything.

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which would you choose?

This is a hard one cuz I love all things mystical and magical...

My immediate thought was a dragon but they get killed a lot in the myths and they're almost always stuck guarding something. Then I was like, ok then. What about a phoenix? So ya, I'd be a phoenix. Don't get me wrong, I'd totally go with all the mythical creatures and just cycle through them all, just if I had to choose just one it'd be a phoenix. Maybe, since I'd technically live forever, I could meet every single mythical creature ever. That'd be pwetty cool...

8. Do you prefer reading paper or electronic books?

Paper. It's what I've grown up with. I know, classy me. Also, there is nothing quite like the smell of a new book. Just sayin'.

9. What is your favourite item of clothing?

Punny t-shirts. All I'm gonna say.

10. Do you like your name? Would you ever change it?

Yes. If I had to change it, I'd love to be Reyna or Luna. Otherwise, I'm keeping it.

11. Who is a mentor to you?

Mostly myself. I taught myself to draw, anyhow. If not me, my mom or my newest art teacher or my neighbor.

12. Would you ever want to be famous? If so, what for?

Yes and no. I want to inspire people (whether with art or my quirky personality) but don't want the pressure that popularity and fame brings.

13. Are you a restless sleeper?

If being a night owl counts as restless, then yes. If being a deep sleeper when I am actually asleep doesn't, then no.

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic?

Considering I like guys who are chivalrous and funny... yes?

15. Which element best represents you?

Water. I'm chill until all my suppressed emotions rush out. You can't hold back the ocean forever. And you can't prevent the inevitable: Me being weird. Just ask my sister, she thinks I'm insane (which is probably accurate). Also, I may seem shallow on the surface, but I can actually be very deep sometimes. I could go on and on about my relationship with water, but that's a tale for another time.

16. Who do you want to be closer to?

Everyone. I love strengthening relationships with people. It makes the group stronger as a whole.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment?

Always.

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory.

I'd love too, but then storyteller Mistie will appear and this list will become infinitely longer. You'll have to ask me in my questions tab if you really want to hear one.

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten?

Can't decide which is weirder: Watermelon with taco seasoning or raw onion with mustard... Both are equally delicious in the summertime at a BBQ.

20. What can you see outside your bedroom window?

A ladder, some rocks, and a dead vole. My old room had a much better view...

21. What are you most thankful for?

My Savior

22. Do you like spicy food?

Not particularly, no.

23. Have you ever met someone famous?

Alex Boyé. He went to a really unsanitary restaurant before he came to our house one time and puked all over our newly waxed floors. I feel bad for him. Everyone but him knew not to eat at that runofthemill A&W on the way up. He still put on a mini concert for us tho and that was pretty considerate of him, because he did it even though he can't have felt like doing it.

24. Do you keep a diary or journal?

Yup. I've got entries from back in kindergarten, amazingly. Granted, back then I wrote in pictures.

25. Do you prefer to use pen or pencil?

Pencil. I'm human, I make mistakes.

26. What is your star sign?

Well, I was a Pisces. But then they discovered that there are more stars in the sky, just like there are more fishes in the sea, and just bunched a bunch of Pisces together so now I'm Aquarius. I'm still a Pisces at heart tho.

27. Do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy?

Crunchy. Better texture. Soggy cereal is oatmeal in my mind and if you want oatmeal, you actually make oatmeal, not let your cereal sit out for who knows how long.

28. What would you want your legacy to be?

Legacy is a tricky thing. You've gotta know what people are gonna think of you down the line. I want mine to be simple: she wasn't afraid of who she was and what others would think of that. She was herself, and that's all that matters. I feel like that's the best legacy I could have for the future generations who will grow up in a world of trial and tribulation.

29. Do you like reading? What was the last thing you read?

ABSOLUTELY! I just finished Lodestar from Keeper of the Lost Cities. I shoulda read these books years ago but they're still fan-freaking-tastic!

30. How do you show someone you love them?

I guess my love language is acts of service or whatever. So I'd probably serve them and do tons of sweet things for them.

31. Do you like ice in your drinks?

No, it makes it all watery. Blegh.

32. What are you afraid of?

Lots of things. I just only realize when they come along and forget what they are afterwards. Sure, it may seem nice, but it makes the terror of coming into contact with them once more infinitely more terrorizing. But bugs are extremely horrifying. And so are arachnids.

33. What is your favourite scent?

Rain with freshly mowed grass and newly printed books at a campfire with Smores by the seashore. No one will ever be able to create this magnificent scent.

34. Do you address older people by their first or last name?

Depends on how close we are.

35. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life?

Does this mean that everything is free? Well I'm gonna stockpile food and stuff and then ship them off to 3rd world countries. I'd try to save as many lives as possible. Or I could go there in person to deliver said goods... Yup. I've decided that that's what I'm gonna do!

36. Do you prefer swimming in pools or in the ocean?

Pools have a veil of safety but the ocean is much more beautiful and alive. Also, the smell of chlorine is gross. And the taste. Blegh.

37. What would you do if you found $50 on the ground?

If it looks old and worn and dirty like it's been there a while, imma take it. Chances are whoever lost it has been long gone so I can actually take that $50 w/o feeling guilty. Otherwise I'd leave it there.

38. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Did you make a wish?

Heh, I used to wish on airplanes, satellites, and planets because I thought they were 'special stars'.

39. What is one thing you would want to teach your children?

To be kind, even when it is inconvenient. I don't know how many times someone has held the door open for me even when it seemed much more convenient for them to just go inside where it is warm and just let me open the stupid door on my own.

Maybe I'd teach them that even the smallest acts can have the biggest impact. One of the two. Probably both.

40. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it?

Heh, you're talkin' to the girl who doesn't want her ears pierced. No way in heck am I getting a tattoo.

41. What can you hear right now?

Music and the sound of my thoughts.

42. Where do you feel the safest?

In a book.

43. What is one thing you want to overcome/conquer?

Darkness and fear.

44. If you could travel back to any era, which would you choose?

The one with Michelangelo, Leonardo, and all those other guys that the ninja turtles were named after.

45. What is your most used emoji?

It's not even an emoji. It is literally XD. Either that or (^^)

46. What is your favourite season? Why?

Torn between winter (snow), spring (life coming into bloom), and fall (all the pwetty colors).

47. How would you spend your ideal day?

On a window seat during a thunderstorm either sketching or reading a book all wrapped up in a blanket. Preferably with a cat. Sipping warm apple cider or hot chocolate with marshmallows.

48. Describe yourself using one word.

Me.

49. What do you regret the most?

Not realizing certain things sooner.

50. Invent your own word. What does it mean?

Crushyblushy (adj. n.)

The general mannerisms an individual enacts around people that they like (specifically in crush and/or love situations).

syn: awkward, quirky, shy, blushy

ant: confident, flirty, aplomb, able

#all about me #50 things #get to know the artist #get to know the blogger #get to know me #reblog #me #just me #hi #quirky #dwagon #mistie #love y'all #mistie monday #monday #merry monday

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littleindigochildx · 4 years

Text

“Wake up! Wake up! We got’a lot ta do t’day!” An excited Savanna announced as she gently shook Victoria to wake her. The seven year old was still clad in pajamas with messy hair from sleeping. Teddy was tucked safely under her arm. “Mommy…” The little brunette whined. “Come on. Aunt Clara is gonna be here soon. We got pies ta make an’ a turkey ta’ bake.” Victoria stirred but didn’t seem to be getting out of bed just yet. Savanna sighed dramatically...something she learned from her big sister. “Fine...you can sleep. Me an’ Teddy will get started without ya.”

Without another word, Savvy turned to head downstairs where Timmy was already fixing himself a bowl of cereal for breakfast. “Don’t eat too much or yer not gonna have any room for dinner.” Savanna warned. “Me, an’ mommy, an’ aunt Clara are makin’ pies!” The seven year old was so excited because pumpkin pie happened to be one of her all time favorite desserts. “Can I help?” Timothy asked with a full mouth. Savvy nodded. “We’re gonna need all the help.” She replied.

Her eyes lit up as a brilliant idea struck her. Zelda. She was magical. Maybe she could help. Thanksgiving dinner would be finished that much faster if they could use magic. “I’ll be right back.” The little girl told her brother. Timmy nodded and continued to eat his breakfast while Savanna disappeared up the stairs to her bedroom. “Where did I hide it?” She spoke to herself. She was looking for the notepad to bring Zelda back to her world. If it worked once, surely it had to work again. “I think I ‘member where I put it.” She lifted her mattress and found the sparkly notebook tucked away safely, exactly where she placed it for safe keeping.

“How did this work last time?” The little girl scratched her head. She couldn’t remember if she made a wish or if she just drew what she wanted to come to life. She definitely remembered drawing something, so she sat down with colored pencils and started sketching an image of her, Victoria, Clara, Timmy, and Zelda in the kitchen preparing A Thanksgiving Day feast with the rest of the Valance and Deschaine families. “I hope this works. We need all the help ta’ make sure dinner is ready on time.” Savvy said out loud. “I know you can help us with yer magic, Zee.”

Savanna put the final touches on her picture and sat back to admire it. Not her best work, but certainly not her worst. “I wish you were here again, Zelda...Ta’ wake my mommy up an’ help us with the cookin’. Please come help us.” But even with her wish, nothing happened. “Well...it was worth a shot.” The little one sighed as she closed the book and returned it to the hiding place between her mattress and box spring. “Guess we gotta do this the normal way.”

—————

By the time Savanna made it back downstairs, Victoria was awake. She just finished pouring herself a cup of coffee. Timmy has finished his breakfast and moved to the living room to watch television before Vic made him go shower and get dressed in nice clothes.

“Yer up!” Savvy grinned. “I getted out everythin’ we need ta’ make pies. Want me ta’ call aunt Clara an’ see if she’s on her way?” The seven year old offered. Before she could even get Victoria’s cell phone, the doorbell rang. Savanna grinned. It had been years since Clara used the doorbell when she visited. She was family which meant she had full permission to let herself in. “I’ll get it!” The energetic little girl said as she ran to the door. She assumed Clara had full hands and needed some help, but when the door swung open it wasn’t the blonde standing on the other side… It was Zelda Spellman.

“Who’s that?” Timmy asked from his spot on the couch. The question made Victoria get up. Her kids weren’t supposed to open the door for strangers and it clearly wasn’t Clara. “Hello. Can I help you?” Vic asked the curly haired woman. “No mommy...She is here ta’ help you!” Savanna explained. Victoria looked confused. How did her daughter know this woman? Victoria had never seen her before, yet somehow she looked so familiar. “I...uh…” Vic was at a loss for words. “I think there has been a mix up.” Victoria was trying to apologize to the woman for getting roped into whatever Savanna had up her sleeve. “Savanna… I’m sure…” Vic began before she realized she still didn’t know the woman’s name. “Zelda.” Savvy added for her. “Mommy, this is my friend Zelda. Zelda...this is my mommy, Victoria, an’ my brother Timmy.” The seven year old introduced.

Zelda. The name rang a bell, but Vic still couldn’t place her. Not until her youngest continued to explain the situation. “Mommy...she’s not ‘maginary anymore. She’s real!” The little girl grinned. “Can she stay for Thanksgivin’?” Savvy looked up at her mother with big doe eyes. She didn’t even know if Zelda ate mortal food, but she wanted her to stay. Especially since she never knew when the witch would disappear, or when she would come back. The magical notepad worked when it wanted to which meant Zelda didn’t always appear when Savvy requested her.

“What do you mean, she’s not imaginary anymore?” Vic’s eyes widened. Suddenly she knew exactly why Zelda looked so familiar to her. She appeared in Savanna’s drawings a lot lately. But how was it possible for her to be standing in their living room, and where was her family? Wasn’t she supposed to be celebrating the holiday with them? “I made’a wish. I wished for her ta’ come help us cause she knows magic. She can use her magic ta’ make our dinner.” Vic didn’t know what to say, and before she could ask questions Clara walked through the door. The expression on her face mirrored the confusion on Vic’s.

“Aunt Clara!! Now we can finally make dinner!”

—————

“I thought I knew all of your extended family.” Clara said when she and Vic were alone in the kitchen. The brunette glared and rolled her eyes. She didn’t know how to explain this woman to her best friend. How was Savanna’s ‘imaginary friend’ sitting in the living room with her kids right now? Victoria had seen some crazy things in Limbo, but this had to be one of the craziest. “Savvy claims she’s her imaginary friend...but maybe she was never imaginary.” Vic peaked around the corner to make sure the kids were okay. Zelda seemed nice, and the only reason Victoria let her stay was because Savanna insisted she did. “I guess she’s coming to dinner with us.” Vic shrugged. She didn’t have the heart to tell her daughter no. Especially when Zelda didn’t have her family here to share Thanksgiving with. “Are you serious? We don’t even know her, V. What if she’s a serial killer?” Clara chimed in. “She seems harmless. Plus...She’s here to help us with dinner. We need all hands on deck. Who knows...maybe she will bring some peace to the dinner table this year.” Vic teased. “Savvy says she’s magic. Maybe she can use some of that to keep Declan and Delia from killing each other.” The brunette chuckled. “Or maybe she will kill them both.” Clara added with a smirk.

“Mommy. We’re ready to help.” Savanna said as she, Timmy, and Zelda appeared in the kitchen. Since Zelda knew as well as Savvy that there was no telling how long she’d stick around, she decided to make the most out of the situation. “What she said.” The woman said with a forced smile. If this was going to keep happening, maybe it was time to get to know some of these Limbo natives. Maybe they could even help figure out how she kept being summoned by a seven year old in the first place.

—————

A couple hours later, desserts were cooling and sides were done. The kids still had to change into their Thanksgiving attire. Both of them got new clothes for the holiday. Savvy was so obsessed with her dress. Victoria had to wash it three times before today. “You can sit next ta’ me in the car...or are ya’ gonna ride your broom?” Savanna had no idea how Zelda typically traveled and she was absolutely stereotyping by suggesting her ride of choice was a broom, but she was seven. She didn’t know any better. “Your car is fine, jellybean.” Jellybean was the nickname Zelda had given the child and Savvy always giggled when she called her that.

“I’m gonna get dressed. Don’t disappear, kay?” Savanna warned before heading up the stairs. She returned a few minutes later with a brush and some detangler in her hand so Vic could do something with her hair. For once she actually cooperated so her hair was done in five minutes. Normally it took a half an hour to get it done. “Time ta’ go?” The child hopped up. “I can’t wait ta’ have some’a Nanny’s turkey. I hope she saved some’a the skin for me.” It was Savanna and Timmy’s favorite. They loved crispy skin and Fancy knew that. “And I reeeeally can’t wait ta’ have some pie.” The child looked up at Zee. “Mommy and aunt Clara are the bestest bakers. No one makes pies, cookies, or cakes like them. I think they might have some magic too.”

The little girl put her jacket on as she turned back to Victoria. “Mommy...Thanks for lettin’ Zee come with us. Daddy is gonna be there an’ Ransom an’ Dottie too. This is gonna be the bestest Thanksgivin’ ever.”

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grandthorkiday · 5 years

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Mob AU “Playthings” Part 19

[Link to mob!au anon’s “Playthings" fic tag]

[Start at Part 1]*

(*Note: Link is editable for other parts, just change the number. For mobile users, tag is “playthings part1”)

~2011~

Ashley was a sweet girl, if a tad annoying. She had a laugh that was a little too high and made her sound like she was going down a bumpy road. She wore too much jewelry, make up, and perfume, and when she talked in her thick Jersey accent she had tendency to smack her lips and talk with exaggerated gestures. But Mario didn’t keep her around for her conversational skills, as he was fond of saying when he smacked her large bottom as she walked by. Of the frequent hanger ons who came and went from the penthouse, she was Thor’s favorite.

“I brought yah something!” She called as he returned from working out in the hotel gym.

“You really didn’t have to,” he said, but was still excited to see what it was. He looked around. “Where’s Loki?”

“Oh he went with Gast somewhere. Focus!” She snapped her fingers and her rings clanged together. She tossed her overly large purse on the table and pulled out two large books. “Told yah my cousin went to college for this crap. Never finished, and tell him, Jay if you don’t finish sell yah books. Nah, Ash, I’m gonna finish. My ass he’s going to finish. He’s making enough doing the rackets. But here, you take ‘em!”

Thor took the books like they were precious treasure. ‘Medieval European History: An Introduction’ and 'The Viking and Their Legacy on the Early Modern World’ were heavy volumes. But there was art within the pages and most of all, it had nothing to with his current circumstances. He opened the page of one of the books to a picture of a war hammer and spear being laid out on a table by an anthropologist, showing the ceremonial markings and and decoration on both.

“This has some examples of actual art, right?” he asked, feeling a twinge of guilt at being so greedy with his desire.

Ashley didn’t seen to care. “'Course it does! You know, you can go to a bookstore and get a book on that! You already go and get your art stuff there.”

“I-I don’t want to ask,” he said, placing the book down. Asking was not the right word. Gast would want him to beg, for every cent and dollar. To leave the penthouse and get a book from the chain store two blocks away. He would have to debase himself. He already did that for art supplies, he didn’t think he could do it for a book. Maybe, if he was good, he could simply ask for a few books. If he was really good, Grandmaster would just shower him with whatever he asked for. He had to be good.

[read more cut]

“You draw anything new?”

He blinked a few times before answering. “Oh, uh, yeah. One moment.” He never left his sketchbook too far away from him. The penthouse crew had a 'habit’ of going through it and doodling over some of his sketches if he left it out of field of vision. Sometimes, Gast would have them punished if he caught them. Sometimes he would ask for a pen and make his own drawings. Thor really didn’t want to risk it.

He handed the sketchbook to Ashley who greedily snapped it up and opened it. She squealed in delight. “These are amazing!! Seriously, this hand and flower! I would totally get this done! Well, if Max let me get a new tattoo. But,” she turned the page and sighed, “oh this is just fucking gorgeous. You drew a cat and it looks so cute I wanna eat it up!”

“It’s Paul’s cat.”

“I know! And you should show him! He loves that thing. You never considered going into making tattoo art?”

Thor shook his head, trying not to laugh. Before he and Loki were kidnapped, he was an Econ major, desperately wanting to change his major to Medieval History. His Father would never expect anything less than him, though. Sketching and drawing was a hobby done behind closed doors, never encouraged except by his brother. He couldn’t even tell his mother that most of his drawings were tattoo inspired.

After they were taken, his education had stopped. Gast had floated the idea of letting them take online courses, but that was snatched away during one of their 'bad’ periods. Drawing became an escape. Grandmaster was his gentlest when he found him drawing and most people in the penthouse wanted a sketch, either for a tattoo or to just keep. Mario even turned one sketch into a shirt that he wore fondly during football season. Thor doubted Gast, however, would see the use or have the desire to put him through the training needed to be an artist.

As though summoned by the mere thought of him, Gast appeared with Mario at his side. Mario had a strange look of barely contained rage. Thor shrank instantly onto himself, gathering his new books closer to him. Suddenly Ashley having his sketchbook felt dangerous and he wanted to reach out and snatch it back. But he didn’t dare do that. That would bring attention to himself, and he wasn’t the one Mario was angry at.

“Hey, Ash!” the thug in question barked out, flexing his muscles as he crossed his arms. “Gotta sec to talk about the 'girl’?” They talked like this, even in the safety of the penthouse, most often. This vague way of speaking about their dealings. There were times, late in the evening and the dead of night when they would be specific. Old superstition someone once explained to him: the dark remains in the dark.

Ashley barely glanced up at him. “What about her?”

“She didn’t make it to the 'drop’. She and her 'merchandise’ are fucking gone.”

“Well she was on her way when I put her and the baby in the cab this morning.”

Mario rolled his neck in irritation and Gast chuckled darkly. “You didn’t go with her?”

The woman frowned and finally passed back the sketchbook who Thor nearly all but hugged when it was returned. “I ain’t going to see a kid sell a baby! I got betta things to do!”

“Like what?!”

“My hair for one!” She flicked her fire red curls over her shoulder. “And my nails! You want me pretty don’t yah baby?”

“I WANNA BE PAID TOO SWEET FUCKING HEART!”

“What you got there, Sparkles?” Gast asked. Naturally, this was directed at Thor and was said conversationally. Like there wasn’t a feeling of apprehension in the air.

Thor nervously showed his new books and sketchbook. Grandmaster waved him over and plucked them from his arms to examine them from his arms. He thumbed through one book before return them with a hum of mild interest. “You like this stuff?”

“Y-yeah,” he waited to see what happened. He ignored Ashley and Mario having a stare off.

“You know, there’s going to be a Medieval exhibit at one of the museums uptown. Forget which ones, but they want me to come by and throw some razzle dazzle on it. Maybe if you’re good, we’ll go.”

“Really?”

“Sure! Hey, sugar,” Gast leaned over and spoke to him like he was speaking to a child, trying to distract him, “how about you go to my bedroom and hang out with Lo Lo. I bet he could use the company.”

Maybe it was the idea that Thor was leaving that finally made it click in Ashley’s mind that she was in trouble. “Hey, he and I were talkin’!”

Thor was slowly already moving to the bedroom, however. There was still a morbid curiosity that made him want to turn back as Ashley called after him and Mario shouted her down. There was a human emotion to turn around and take one last solid look at what had been a friend and occasional ally. But if he looked back, would he still be good? No, it was better to be good and do as Grandmaster suggested.

The bedroom was large with a king sized bed and huge television built into the wall. Loki was laying on the bed in one of Gast’s robes, watching a period piece half-heartedly. He brightened though when Thor entered.

“Hey, how long have you been back?”

“Fifteen minutes. I got caught up talking to….someone.”

There was a sound of two people shouting from out in the living room.

“O-oh.”

“Hey, I got something.” He sat down on the bed and handed the books over to Loki. The younger man took them and began to thumb through them, smiling more with each page that turned. “I already got some ideas for sketches, but the information also looks really interesting.”

“Yeah,” the other replied, having to tear his eyes away from a sub chapter on the order of succession.

Thor took one of the books again and thumbed to the page with the hammer and spear. “I was thinking of sketching these two first. Make it look like heraldry.”

“Heraldry! Already talking like a professor!” Loki giggled.

“I was thinking of designing it as a tattoo…for you.”

The younger man blinked at him, taken aback. “For me? A tattoo? I don’t…”

He uncovered Loki’s left thigh. There were faded pink lines and crosshatches. One still looked red and recent. He reached out and touched the cut before the robe was yanked back into place. “I doubt it hasn’t crossed his mind the reason why you-”

“I don’t want to hear about-”

“I understand. I know. I know. Trust me…I can still feel where he touched me on the back the first time… in the shower….. But this,” he waved a hand to the scars under the robe, “This will not help.”

Loki laughed bitterly, “And a tattoo will?”

“Maybe. Think about it like this…he touches us now. It’s okay now, we’re used to it. We’re good. We…enjoy it now.” Admitting it out loud made him want vomit out every last trace of bile. But his brother was showing understanding and sympathy, so he pressed on. “But that first time. That first time was awful. Wouldn’t be easier to….edit what happened?”

“Edit?”

“He didn’t touch you here, Loki.” He gripped the other’s thigh. Green eyes began to tear up and he realized a little belatedly he had gripped too hard. He hoped the cut hadn’t opened and was bleeding in the Grandmaster’s bed.

“But he di-”

“No. Don’t think like that. Thinking like that makes it harder, doesn’t it? He touched your tattoo.”

“My-”

“Yes, your tattoo. I designed you an amazing tattoo and you have it and that’s what he touched.”

Loki looked at him for a moment with doubt before there was a female scream from the living room. He recoiled, his face looking full of terror. Thor gathered him in his arms and laid them back onto the bed, shushing his noises of distress. He found the remote and switched the television to something else, a random cartoon show. He turned the volume up and rocked the younger gently.

A few hours later, when Grandmaster would return, he would find his boys with the television still on to cartoons. Loki would be asleep using the robe as part blanket part teddy bear and Thor would be drawing the first draft of Loki’s new tattoo.

~2019~

“I know it’s stupid, and I never realized how much he took it to heart, but he was happy when I finally got it done. We saved so much money to get it,” Thor looked nostalgic for a moment.

“What happened to Ashley?” Tony asked, writing down a few things on his notepad.

“Well, once her hair grew back and her fingers healed, I think Mario sent her to one of the brotels. I mean,” he shrugged, “it was either that or she’s fish food.”

It was the casualness of how it was said that haunted Val for days after that.

#thorki #frostmaster #thorloki #thor #loki #GrandthorkiB #sfw #fic #cw noncon implied #cw self harm #cw mental illness #playthings #submission #playthings part19

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zoeykaytesmom · 5 years

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What is Life? (Chapter 9)

@lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @esparza-army @thatesparzacrush @gibbs274 @tropes-and-tales @xemopeachx @jramirezblogs @eclecticdeersuit @barbafan69

December 1995

“Another semester behind us,” Krystal laughed as she and Izzy got ready to go to start their Christmas vacation. Krystal was going to spend the first week in New York since she had never been.

“Only three more to go.”

“You still thinking of applying to law school?”

“Not sure. I mean I know my brother is but we don’t have to do all the same stuff.”

“Speaking of, is he single?”

“He was seeing some girl at Brown. Why?”

“Just wondering,” she shrugged. “Is he off limits?”

“He’s grown and so are you,” she said throwing her hands up.

“So, what are we going to do when we get to New York?”

“First thing you’re gonna want to do is sleep. We won’t land until 8:00. I’m sure my mother is making something ‘special’ for dinner. After that, you’ll want sleep, trust me.”

“Okay, then what about tomorrow?”

“I might be nice and take you to Rockefeller Center but we have to get there early.”

“I’m so excited,” Krystal clapped as she jumped and down.

“And you were only on the drill team?”

“Hush.”

“Come on, we need to get to the airport.”

*********

Izzy was right. Stella had made at least three homemade Italian dishes, salad, bread, and a dessert.

“Ma, you didn’t have to do all of this,” Izzy chuckled as they hugged.

“When was the last time either of you had a decent meal?”

“TGI Friday’s the other night.”

“Elizabeth Machelle.”

“I had ribs, a salad, and a baked potato.”

“You mean you had sour cream with a little potato underneath.”

“Pretty much.

“Junior will you take Krystal’s stuff up to the guestroom so these two can eat, please?”

“No problem,” he said as he smiled at Krystal before heading upstairs.

“Well, come on, you two. Go eat.”

The girls did as they were told and Krystal found out Izzy was right. All she wanted was a shower and to go to sleep after the long flight and all the food she had eaten. Back home, she lived on things like Arby’s, McDonalds, Jack-in-the-Box, Domino’s, Wendy’s, etc. Her parents worked late hours and she rather had family dinners, unless she went to her grandparents.

“So, what do the two of you have planned for Krystal’s first trip to New York?” Tony asked as he sat on his sister’s bed.

“I’m hoping to take her to Rockefeller Center in the morning. She asked about you.”

“Really?” He said with a smirk.

“Tony.”

“What? I can’t have some fun while we’re home?”

“I just don’t want to hear about it. You can come with us tomorrow if you want.”

“I might meet you there. Did Ma tell you I’m registered to take my LSATs this Spring?”

“No. Already?”

“The sooner the better. I’ve done good on the practice exams.”

“Good for you.”

“Have you given any thought…”

“Not yet. We still have a year and a half.”

“Don’t wait until the last minute.”

“I know. Anyways, I want to get on New York time.”

“I’ll take that as a hint,” he laughed. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

********

Krystal, Izzy, and Erin were sitting by the rink after a few rounds, having a cup of hot chocolate, watching the couples and families skate passed them.

“I can’t believe y’all live in New York and you’re not here every Christmas.”

“It gets old after a while,” Erin chuckled.

“I get it. After working at a theme park for most of high school, I would prefer to only stop on Disney property from now on. I mean, that makes Six Flags look like the state fair.”

“You need to bring her back at Spring Break and we could take her to Coney Island.”

“That’s a good idea, Erin. You think your parents would go for it?”

“I can always ask.”

“Can we join you ladies?” Izzy heard her brother’s voice from behind them and Erin whisper, “oh shit”.

Izzy turned to see her brother standing with Rafael.

“Uh…” Izzy couldn’t answer quick enough before her brother and Rafael sat down at their table.

“Hey, Izz,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” she replied without taking her eyes off of her cup.

“You okay?” Erin whispered.

She just slightly nodded.

“Rafael this is my sister’s roommate, Krystal.”

“Nice to meet you,” he told her.

“You girls ready to go back out?” Erin asked.

“Sure,” Izzy said as she stood up. “Come on, Krystal. Let’s see if you can stay up this time.”

The girls left, leaving the guys at the table.

“I told you, Tony,” Rafael said as he shook his head.

“I’m doing my best but if I had told her you were coming, she would’ve changed her plans without telling me.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s been two years.”

“Every letter still been sent back?”

“Birthday card, too. I just…if nothing else I’d like to start over with her.”

“Stay here,” Tony said as he got up and met his sister on the ice.

“You actually brought Rafael here?”

“I bumped into him. He’s supposed to be meeting Eddie and they’re to a Knicks game or something. Will you just talk to him?”

“What could he possibly say…”

“If you weren’t so bullheaded and sent back every letter he’s written you, maybe you’d know what he wants to say.”

“You do know what happened…”

“And I didn’t touch him because you asked me not to. I’ve been pissed off at him, too. Do you not know what happened last spring break?”

“No.”

“Yelina had been cheating on him with Alex.”

“What?” She was so caught off guard, she tripped and fell on the ice, twisting her ankle in the process.

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

Her ankle was killing her.

“Come on, we gotta get this skate off of you,” her brother said as he helped her up.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.”

He helped her sit down and put her leg on the bench seat, next to Rafael. Without thinking, Rafael started untying her skate.

She jerked her leg back really quick. Huge mistake on her end.

“Will you just let me help you?” He hissed.

“Okay,” she relented.

A paramedic came over and looked at her ankle. “You guys need to get an x-ray on this. Could be a sprain, could be worse. It’s swelling pretty fast.”

“Do you have your car, Izz?”

“Uh no, Junior. It’s still back in God’s etch-a-sketch.”

“Let Rafael get a cab and take you to Mercy. I’ll get a hold of Mom and Dad and. I’ll make sure Erin and Krystal get back to Brooklyn, too.”

“Yeah, okay.” She was in too much pain to argue.

*****

“Well, Miss Rossetti, it’s definitely not broken but you do have a severe sprain.”

“Great,” she said as she rolled her eyes.

“I’m gonna give you a prescription for Darvocet, we’ll wrap your ankle, and give you these nice crutches…”

“Crutches? I play basketball for USC.”

“You have a grade two sprain. If you don’t let this heal, you could end up tearing something.”

“Just do what he says, Izz.”

“You’re being awfully bossy for someone…”

“Not here,” he told her sternly.

“As I was saying,” the doctor continued. “You’ll want to keep it elevated and ice on it when possible.”

“Thank you.”

Her ankle was wrapped, Rafael took the prescription from the doctor. He held her rainbow sock and purple Nike as he helped her off the table.

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

The cab ride back to Bensonhurst was quiet. Half of her wanted to scream, cry, and even punch him for what had happened between them. Then part of her just kept playing Oasis’ song “Don’t Look Back in Anger” in her head. She had almost worn out her CD because of that song in particular back at school.

Stella met them to pay the cab driver and helped her daughter out when they got to their house. She handed Rafael some more money and asked him to go get the Darvocet filled and pick up a few other things for Izzy if he didn’t mind.

“Sure, Stella,” he smiled before closing the cab door and telling him where to go.

Anthony was in the process of bringing Izzy’s stuff down into the den, which was basically his man cave, so she wouldn’t have to try and go upstairs for anything. He had pulled the bed out of the sofa in there, piling the pillows on it and her favorite pink and purple sheet set.

Stella had thrown together a plate of leftovers from the night before and put it in the microwave while she waited on Rafael to return with the small list she had made.

She helped Izzy get into her white pajamas with rainbow polka dots all over them. Sure, they weren’t sexy at all but they were cute and comfortable at least.

About 30 minutes later, he came back and rang the doorbell.

“Since when do you ring my doorbell,” Stella laughed as she opened the door for him.

“Well, I haven’t been around in a while so I…”

“Come in. Thank you so much for doing this for me.”

“Not a problem at all, Stella.”

“Can you do me one last favor?”

“Sure.”

“Take this tray to Izzy in Anthony’s den so she can eat before she takes her pain medicine. Stuff like this always makes her nauseous if she doesn’t eat.”

“Uh…yeah,” he smiled as he picked up the tray and headed in there.

********

“Your mom wants you to eat before you take your pain meds,” he told her as he sat the tray on the folding table.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Yeah, thanks? That’s all you have to say to me?”

“What do you want me to say, Rafael?”

“I didn’t get a thank you for taking you to the emergency room, making sure you got home, going and getting your meds…”

“You honestly think that I’m going to fall over myself after what you did?!”

“You know what…forget it. I am done chasing after ungrateful women. I do everything I can and it’s never good enough.”

“Doing everything you can include taking my virginity and going back to Yelina?”

“I never meant…I wanted to be with you. I told you I loved you. Like Yelina, you didn’t want me until I was with someone else.”

“That’s such bullshit and you know it! I wanted you since the freshman dance.”

“You sure proved that by fixing me up with Lauren and then getting with Antonio!”

“You said you liked her! If you didn’t like me, I at least wanted you to be happy and away from Yelina!”

“Do you know how hard it was for me to tell you I couldn’t talk to you anymore? I wasn’t just losing the person that I loved but my best friend in doing that.”

“You know what? It’s been two years. I’m over it.”

“Yeah, you seem like it.”

“You green-eyed, Cuban prick!”

“We’re gonna go there, you brown-eyed Italian brat!”

“Get out!!!”

“I’m leaving! Don’t worry about sending back another letter or birthday card because I’m done wasting anymore of my time or money.”

“Good! You finally got the fucking hint.”

“You’re just as bad Yelina.”

“I said get out!”

She had gotten off the sofa bed in some more sort of futile attempt to “chase” him out of her house.

“I’m leaving!”

“Have a nice life!”

“Izz…”

“What?!”

Before she could think, her face was in his hands, his lips pressed to hers. She melted instantly, her crutches falling to the floor but she didn’t care as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He picked her up as he continued kissing her as he laid her back on the sofa bed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered after he broke away from her.

“Me, too.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It was me. I was being stupid. You were 3,000 miles away and that killed me as it was. Yelina played to that. I’m sorry I said you were just like her. You’ve never been anything like her. You’ve made me laugh, you’ve taken care of me when I’ve needed it. You’ve listened to me.”

“Rafa?”

“I’ve missed that,” he smiled. “What is it, cariño?”

“Kiss me again?”

“Of course.”

“Are you two okay? I heard yelling…oops!!” Stella said, slightly embarrassed.

“Sorry, Ma.”

“I’ll just leave you two alone. Here’s an ice pack for you, Izz.”

“Thanks,” she told her mother with a beet red face.

“Rafael would you add another pillow under her ankle, please?”

“Certainly.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No, ma’am, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Okay. If you change your mind, you know where everything is,” she told him as she slid the doors back shut.

“I’m sorry I sent back all your letters and cards. What did they say?”

“Just ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again basically,” he kind of laughed quietly.

“One of those was pretty thick.”

“It’s not important anymore. Eat and take your medicine.”

“Okay. Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Yeah,” he smiled the crooked smile she had first fell for. “You want me to put a movie in?”

“I think Dad brought my tapes of ‘Welcome Back, Kotter’ down here.”

“Are you for real?”

“You know I love that show and it took me forever to record those.”

“So, tape one then?”

“Please.”

He popped the VHS in the VCR and grabbed the remote. He kicked off his shoes and laid next to her.

“Raf?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for taking care of me today. Not a lot of guys would’ve done that.”

“Well, I have a confession to make.”

“What’s that?”

“Your brother kind of planned for me to come and ‘bump’ into you today. He wanted us to talk.”

“Did he plan on me getting hurt, too?”

“That was just an added bonus,” he teased. “I would’ve help you no matter what. You know me better than that.”

“Sorry to interrupt again but Rafael, I think these pajama bottoms are yours that you left here a few years ago,” Stella said handing him the plaid pants.

“I wondered what happened to these,” he laughed as he took them from her.

“They’ve been in the guestroom dresser since the last time you stayed here. Thought you might want to get comfortable if you’re gonna hang out for a little bit.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll close my eyes.”

“You’ve seen me with less than my boxers, Izz,” he laughed as he took off the gray Polo shirt we was wearing leaving only white undershirt. He took off his jeans, pulled on the plaid cotton pants before crawling up next to her again. “I never regretted that, you know.”

“You told me.”

“I want you to really know that. You were the one I wanted to do that with. No one else. Why are you laughing?”

“What is with your socks?”

“You with the rainbow toe socks from the 70s are laughing about my white socks with blue polka dots?”

“Sorry, I might be getting a little high.”

“Trying to have a serious moment and you have to ruin it.”

“I never regretted it either.”

“Even after…”

“Well, maybe a few times but when it comes down to it, no…never. You want the rest of my lasagna? I can’t finish all this.”

“As if you had to ask. Look, I don’t know what’s going to happen. I just want to spend time with you while we’re on break. So, can we be friends again?”

“Do you kiss all your friends like that?”

“I’m glad you said something. I better make sure I give Tony his when he gets back.”

The Darvocet she had taken made her laugh harder than she probably should’ve but it was funny.

“Just you,” he smiled once he stopped laughing. “We don’t have to though…”

“Let’s just see how things go. I mean, I’m gonna be laid up for most of Christmas break. Yay for me.”

“Fair enough. Now, give me that plate.”

#rafaelbarba fanfic AU ifyoudon'tlikeitdon'treadit lawandorder:SVU rafaelbarba/oc

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cosmosogler · 6 years

Text

hi guys. didn’t sleep much last night. didn’t prepare me well for today.

i did get up and get to my chores... eventually. it took an hour and a half to get up and moving once i got out of bed. i showered and that went so late i just skipped breakfast and made myself lunch.

harrison decided to wait until 4 hours before mom was set to show up to freak the hell out at me. he figured out i was avoiding him and i told him the truth. he didn’t stop doing things i told him repeatedly to stop doing. i said those comments made me feel bad. he did the whole “oh i’m a failure of a friend” shtick and i didn’t have the energy to turn around and ignore my hurt feelings to comfort his hurt feelings about my hurt feelings.

he made me so angry! i typed out a lot of messages and had to press my fists against the desk and take a deep breath and erase them and try again.

the reason i got so angry was because as soon as it became clear i wasn’t going to say “oh no it’s ok” or whatever he demanded i send him a list of boundaries i have for him to not cross. like buddy if you don’t know them by now then it’s either not a problem or a very big problem. (he doesn’t listen.) i told him i didn’t know off the top of my head and he basically freaked out over and over in the same exact way no matter how many times i told him i was too tired to give him a list of my life for his own convenience.

i told him that. “i don’t have a check list for your convenience.” his response was “then how am i supposed to learn?” he sent me that literal message word for word after i told him twice that i am not his teacher or his babysitter. i have a full time job and it is not “patiently teach harrison about the magical ways of the world constantly and repeatedly at his pleasure forever and ever.”

i was so angry. i didn’t have time for that. i didn’t really get to prepare myself for mother before she showed up because i was grinding my teeth and taking deep breaths about harrison for two hours this afternoon. i sent him a link to a long pdf about emotional labor. that’s what he’s sapping out of me. the emotional labor. he won’t read it or understand it. but i told him to talk to literally anyone besides me about it. i know he won’t. he doesn’t listen. he doesn’t really listen to me. it doesn’t matter what i do. he’s just going to put me in these lose-lose situations forever and it’s exhausting and i have OTHER THINGS I NEED TO DO WITH MY DAY!!!

so i stumbled down to the parking lot to greet mother. we went and got her checked in to her hotel and we had dinner. i ended up talking a lot more than i wanted to. when i found out dad’s mom wants to get another dog (she killed her last one) i couldn’t hold back a pretty nasty comment. didn’t have the patience i needed.

at least when mom started making judgmental comments about other people i had the presence of mind to say “that’s not really my business” and change the subject to something that is my business. like insurance and taxes and boring difficult impossible adult stuff. mother wasn’t very helpful with a pep talk. when dad called she had me answer the phone for her. dad asked how i was doing and i said “i’m ok” and then let the silence kind of hang there. then i relayed mom’s message and hung up.

i was starving all day (i didn’t have the energy to actually make myself a lunch) and then when i got my food i could barely eat anything at all. it took me like an hour to eat my pasta. i didn’t even finish it. i ate too much to keep the few bites remaining for leftovers but... my body was doing that thing where i felt weak from hunger and yet food was the last thing i wanted anywhere near me.

every time mom complains about genevieve i tell her the same thing. eve is bored. she’s out of shape. she needs more exercise. mom never listens though and nothing changes. nothing ever changes just because i asked for something.

feels like that at least.

i learned my sister has been taking anxiety medication for several years now. our primary doctor prescribes them, my sister won’t see a therapist or psychiatrist. it’s so frustrating sometimes. she seems so miserable all the time but it’s like she thinks seeing a counselor will make her a crazy person or something. and you can’t be a crazy person! they’re the worst thing you could possibly be.

stigma.

she might be a little proud, too. but the way my brother’s expression changes if therapy ever comes up, that sort of sharp flinch, i can tell that judgment is there. i don’t see why my sister wouldn’t feel a similar way.

anyway i came home and i was so tired i did nothing for several hours. i got started on a thing for the comic but i didn’t have the energy to move past a quick sketch. i watched fma for a bit... episode 40 is next.

i feel like i can’t draw fast enough. i wish it didn’t take so long to tell a story. i have a hundred things backed up that i REALLY want to draw. but no energy to actually draw them. i stare at my to-do list and i look at my sketchbook sitting next to me and i just sag a little. i’m feeling overwhelmed. and i can’t find that... drive, i guess, i keep wondering if anyone’s even reading it (even though i know people are reading it, and they want to know what happens next, because that’s what happens when you follow an ongoing story).

i want to talk about it with someone besides harrison but when i go to talk about my process or the characters or choices i made i kinda clam up. at least in creative writing club that five-second hesitation of “oh my god, there is a huge flood of information i could give about how i’m doing with this story, i’ve been making such good progress, what do i talk about?” got me absolutely nothing. i didn’t get to talk about it at all! the president moved on to his dnd campaign. i don’t have super-reflex wit... i needed a minute.

i guess with harrison it’s easier to talk about it because he hasn’t played the game and doesn’t have his own opinions about the characters. he has a different set of spoilers i can avoid. it’s way easier to talk about elements from the middle of the story (the part i wrote) when i’m sitting on the horrible bombshell twist of an ending to the game (the part i didn’t write). harrison knows some of my events and the characters but not where i’m going with all of it.

while with people who HAVE played the game, the middle of the story is going to be much more unknown! how do our protagonists get from where they are to where they end up in the game? (what changes did i decide to make to the game’s story? i’ve revealed a few already, a minor one and a major one.)

so it’s way harder to talk with them about my story because a different subset of the story is going to be unknown to them. that subset is the part that i put all the work into. if i talk too much about the middle of the story then there ain’t gonna be any big mysteries left.

i dunno. a solution to this problem would be to have more friends i guess. i never know what to say or how to say what i want to say. i’m still very afraid of the judgment. i get it. i’m a big gay nerd. but the minute you say “fanfiction” people get all weird about it. i had to be really careful about who i told about my art. and none of them even looked anyway. nothing even matters.

i feel so trapped.

i gotta run errands with mom tomorrow, probably most of the day. i’ve been putting together a list of things i need to collect or fix. mom likes having things to fix. and if i give her things to fix that are not me, we get along a little better. she gets to feel helpful, i get to have a working desk fan, and i don’t have yet another tense situation under my belt of “memories of mother.”

anyway. i don’t know what else to talk about. i feel like i have more to say but i’m not sure what it is i want to say, and even if i did i don’t have the energy to say it.

#uuuuuUUUUUUUGH

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messedupessy · 6 years

Text

Got tagged by both @observing-silhouette and @skelltales so here goes(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Rules: Write down 10 facts about yourself and tag 10 followers you want to know better

Can't be bothered to tag anyone as I am tired and can't think of anyone ye

1. I have filled up 5 sketchbooks ever since I got into Undertale which is barely a year ago now, have begun on the 6th one now, before UT I barely filled like 2 sketchbooks a year so yeah it's cray cray what UT has done to me, and I haven't even posted half of what I have sketched pfft

2. I actually hated crocs before I decided to give Stretch a pair, like yeah I still had a pair of my own crocs which I used when I needed to go out and do something quickly like taking out the trash etc, but ever since I gave them to him and his obsession and love for them grow so did mine and now I love them any other kind of shoe or just outfit that is considered ugly

3. I own only one skirt which my big sis made and gave to me, which is now broken allot so now I only use it when I colour my hair as a top, so I can more easily take it off so I can shower without getting hair colour on my clothes as I shower every time when you have to wash the hair and stuff ye

4. every time I am out on the town/big cities I often end up looking at people and their clothes and imagine Stretch or some other character wearing them, mostly just Stretch tho, like I can't even go into a clothing shop without looking at a clothed up mannequin and immediately see Stretch wearing it, or walk past one of those big windows with mannequins in different poses and clothes and see Stretch wearing them, I have ended up taking sneaky photos or draw quick stick figures in my sketchbook which I carry with me everywhere so I don't forget, most of the time I forget to do that so I forget the outfit altogether pfft

5. When I sit and sketch while wearing my swap pap hoodie my eraser keep on falling into my hoodie sleeve and I have no idea how the fuck it keeps on happening

6. Completely hooked on Hamilton so much it almost hurts, never been interested in musicals like at all before but decided to give it a try like a month ago now and ever since then I have listened through the whole musical almost every frikking day and I love it so damn much like dang the music is so damn catchy, have yet to watch a vid with the actual musical though as I have only watched animations of it so gotta so do that sometime, and thanks to my obsession with Hamilton so have it caused me to become obsessed with Assassin's creed again especially the 3rd game which occurs during the same time period as Hamilton, so soon in game I will prolly meet him and it will be funny af ye, also hooked on The Adventure Zone which is so good to listen to while out walking or while drawing like dang so good I love it so damn much I cry

7. I eat rice cakes as if they were chips, no butter or anything just completely raw have like 4 packages right next to my bed

8. I can't stop saying kinky about everything and I am starting to think I have a problem or some sort of addiction or maybe it's just my aspergers/adhd is acting up again, like I say it about anything in any situation almost except real srs one's and I think I need to reel myself in a bit with it because it is starting to get out of hand pfft

9. oh yeah I do have aspergers and adhd, real lovely stuff that is both a blessing and a fucking curse at times

10. someone keeps on calling me atm with a private number and I aien't answering that sheit no my good sir kindly fuck off man I don't care that you have called me 5 times now just go the fuck away and die in a bush somewhere that would be great gnjkergjke

#MessedUpEssy #tag #got tagged #currently listening to Hamilton actually #because it is way too good yo #I keep on listening to parodies of it tho which are just so beautiful too #I am currently in a period of when I either listen to hamilton #to Hamilton parodies #or pirate shanty's from assassin's creed 4 black flag because pirates #been listening to them all like that for weeks now and I can't stop #pffft #ughhh was going to draw today but think I will go and play some assassin's creed instead #as after all I got my last day of work tomorrow and after that I have all the time I need to draw #so yeah gonna do that yeye #I am currently drawing tho not on the things I am supposed to but hey gotta sketch something every day so fudge it yeye

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greenishbucket · 6 years

Text

For Always

The wintery morning light is still so pale where it comes in through the window. Lardo can think of a million things they could do today alone, big and small and everything in between.

1.6k, also on ao3

Lardo wakes up for about half a minute when Ford gets out of bed at a quarter past five to shower.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” Ford says, a little husky from her own sleep, before Lardo has even got out her usual garbled oh shit dude it’s so fucking early why do you do this go back to sleep oh god.

“Mmmnuhgh,” Lardo says in reply, wriggling over to the warmth left behind where Ford had been and wrapping the blankets tighter around herself.

Ford bangs her toe against the bedside cabinet in the dark and swears loudly and efficiently, disembodied in the still dark room, and Lardo finds herself making some grossly fond face into the pillow. She just catches the beginnings of Ford’s almost-tuneful shower singing before the fact that it’s fucking five in the morning pulls her back into sleep.

Of course, once she’s been woken up once she’s not gonna be able to go back to sleep for long. Ford always makes sure to close the front door extra quiet like Lardo’s a baby she’s just got down to nap so Lardo usually misses her leaving but before long the neighbourhood wakes up and brings noise with it. When Lardo wakes up the second time, the apartment is still and cold and quiet, even for all the rumble of cars and people outside, and for a moment she feels kinda desolate.

It lasts for about a second. The side of the bed she’s migrated over to still smells like Ford’s products – and not enough like their detergent, she notes, so they’re probs going to need to change the sheets sometime soon – and it’s still early enough that she can feel the possibilities of the day stretching out before her. As much as Lardo likes to sleep in until the sun actually rises, she knows she always turns snappy and irritable when she wakes up way late to a day half gone.

Ford’s forgotten again to crack the window open to allow the shower steam out when Lardo makes it to the bathroom and the whole place, floor to walls to toilet seat, is slick with condensation. Lardo is going to make a sign and get it laminated and stick it somewhere Ford can’t miss, just so there’s more than a 20 percent chance they’ll get their deposit back if they ever want to move.

The air is shockingly cold when she pushes the stiff window open and Lardo wants to brush her teeth extra hard, plus mouthwash, and then take a deep breath in like she was a kid. When she does it sears her throat enough to make her eyes water, the mouthwash they have now a lot stronger than the for-kids version her mom had supervised her through using way back when.

She’s pretty sure the sweats and hoodie she pulls on after her own shower are both further down the line of should-this-go-in-laundry than she’d like to admit, but neither actively smell bad so Lardo figures she can stretch it out for today at least.

The kitchen is a lot colder than the humidity of the bathroom; they both forgot to pull the blinds down the night before. Again. Fuck knows what their neighbours have seen going on in their kitchen over the years.

Lardo’s just checking the apples in the fruit bowl through a series of pokes and squeezes when there’s the familiar scrabble-whine-clunk of the lock mechanism’s slow death – one day, they’re either gonna get locked out or locked in and everyone in their contacts is going to reply with nothing but a ‘told you so’, Lardo can sense it – and the sound of Ford throwing her embarrassing running fanny pack in the pile of bags.

She’s all glistening with sweat still when she comes in from the hall. Lardo appreciates most sport at a level of sorta to actual personal enjoyment, but her appreciation for Ford’s running is a heavy part aesthetic. Ford energised and keen and sporty in the still-early light in their kitchen strikes something emotional in Lardo’s chest, sure, because sometimes it’s still something to grasp that they’re really doing this, but as a concept it also falls pretty perfectly on the line between wow I wanna art her and wow I wanna make out with her. It’s a tricky balance but, in honesty, it plays a big part in how little Lardo complains about being woken up at bullshit hours three times a week, if the way Ford bounces on the balls of her feet when she talks about her running bros wasn’t enough.

“You’re up,” Ford says, pleased, like Lardo isn’t always up when she gets back, apart from the times where she only goes to sleep a little before Ford leaves.

Ford smells strongly of sweat when she leans in to fill her water bottle up in the sink and kisses Lardo on the cheek, but at least it’s the fresh and clean kind and not the stale and embedded kind that both of them swear they still catch a whiff of sometimes, hockey-kit free though their apartment may be. Lardo would try and pull Ford in for a for real kiss, because energised and keen and sporty and hot, but she’d just taken a bite of the least squishy apple and now juice is running all down her chin where Ford jostled her.

Ford wipes at the juice with her thumb for her, amused and apologetic, and says, “I’m going to shower and then we should eat.”

Lardo holds up her apple.

“Actual breakfast, I’m starving,” Ford clarifies. “Plus those apples are all mushy and grainy, I meant to cut them up for the birds the other day.”

Lardo shrugs; the apple tastes a little weird, but not too bad.

Ford’s singing isn’t as audible from the kitchen, but Lardo lets the hum of the pipes keep her company instead as she tries to piece together something filling from the remains of their grocery trip two and a bit weeks ago. It’s been a busy period, both of them in and out of the house at all kinda hours and too exhausted to do much but curl up on the couch in shared peace and quiet each evening, and groceries have fallen to the wayside pretty badly.

Breakfast manages to be toast: a savoury slice each with tomato-y paste and one slice of chicken on it for Lardo and two chicken slices for Ford because protein, and a dessert slice each with the last scraps of an apricot jam from Bitty spread as evenly as Lardo can. She puts some cereal bars by Ford’s plate to make up for it, and fills two mugs with the only herbal tea they can both agree on, feeling a mix of pride and warm, comfortable familiarity when she sets the mugs down not thirty seconds before Ford comes back from the shower.

“We need to get some groceries, huh?” she says, taking a seat and a bite of the savoury toast enthusiastically enough all the same.

“We’re all out of cereal, fruit, most vegetables, juice, almost all the bread and the milk,” Lardo confirms. “And we have a fuck load of rice but about a handful of pasta.”

“What about pancakes?” Ford asks. “We have the ingredients for those, don’t we?”

Lardo could spot the sneaky teasing look in Ford’s eye a mile off. “So it’s gotta be pancakes now? Stale chicken tomato apricot toast isn’t good enough?”

“Hey, I ran so much today already. Like, all the runs.”

“Out of your own choice,” Lardo reminds her. “You could’ve slept in with me. I can think of some fitness stuff we coulda done instead.”

Ford kicks Lardo under the table, leaves her bare ankle against Lardo’s after. “You don’t know the shame of the ‘we missed you!’ wall. I deserve pancakes and sex just for the exhaustion of having that hanging over me.”

“If you wanted pancakes and sex you shouldn’t have signed up for a running club that starts at the asscrack of dawn,” Lardo says, mock-sniffy as she can be around a mouthful of toast. “I don’t know if I’m in the mood anymore.”

Ford sighs and says, forlorn, “Where did the romance go, all that spark. They’re right, it all dries up in the end,” but her ankle is still pressed against Lardo’s and the corner of her mouth is turned up slyly, mutedly, like she can’t help it. When Lardo makes an unimpressed face at her, the smile emerges for real, her cheeks all bunched up like in the photos Ford’s mom insists on pulling out whenever they visit.

The wintery morning light is still so pale where it comes in through the window. Lardo can think of a million things they could do today alone, big and small and everything in between.

“Let’s go grocery shopping, and then we can buy something with a fuck load of sugar and split it after we have sex but before we have to get back to, like, actually doing shit,” Lardo says, the day unfolding in her mind. “How’s that for romance?”

“Be still my beating heart,” Ford says, dry, and steals the crusts of Lardo’s toast that she was gonna get to in a minute.

There’s a moment, then, where Lardo remembers time ago would have been the moment they would have shared an I love you, back when saying the words still had a sickening, jittery, breathless rush. It passes. They don’t need to, now; Lardo knows it like a bedrock truth.

Ford huffs a laugh to herself as she scrolls through her phone, mugs still half-full of still steaming tea between them on the table, and Lardo sketches out in her mind the laminated bathroom sign she’s gonna make so Ford remembers to open the damn window. She can already hear the way Ford will laugh, bright and caught out, and march back out to Lardo with the offending sign in hand, probs wrapped in the same ugly multicolored towel she’s had since undergrad, like a certainty.

#my writing #check please fic #uhhhhh #fordo

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