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#i am going to do some painting. and buy myself dinner. and catch up on chores
pbandjesse · 10 months
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I don't feel so great right now. I feel pretty overwhelmed with work and everything. But I was a lot more productive today after work. And hopefully since I didn't take a nap right after work I will be able to fall asleep early. I think that would help how I feel.
I didn't sleep great last night. I woke up a lot and just didn't feel very great. I woke up at 715 like I was supposed to. And I felt so dizzy and tired. James was sitting on the couch with Sweetp and looked so cute.
James promised me breakfast so I got dressed and felt pretty good after we got food. I was tired and not 100% myself but I was a little better.
And work was fun. My group was really late. But it was whatever. Kaitlyn brought us donuts. And I helped her make some prints. People wanted to know about our honeymoon but I was a little to tried to really be "on". I tried but I wasn't all the way there.
There was some confusion once we got the kids inside but whatever. I got an all girl group and they were awesome. We did start a few minutes late but it was fine, and I would make the time up. And the girls had great questions and I was having a really good time. Even if I tripped on my words a little bit.
I did get really frustrated after my tour though because the other half of my tour, lead by another educator, was late. And the overlap cannery area chairs has another group hanging out in them and I was very frustrated. I texted Jessica that my coworkers are going to give me an ulcer. And because of all of this my cannery started very late but I did my best and it wasn't my best A but it was fun at least.
After my cannery we had lunch and I got my scavenger hunt set up and went to steal stickers from James. Ended up talking to a lovely musuem guest about being a musuem nerd and where else he should check in our. Me and James both recommended AVAM. I hope he went because it's such a cool place.
The kids did an excellent job at the scavenger hunt and two groups got prizes. And then it was time for them to go.
Once they were gone I went to the back to sit down and catch my breath. Eventually I would go hug James on their walk to their lunch break. And then I spent some time at the front desk talking to Meril. Showing her all the pictures from our trip. And it felt so nice to share that with someone. And she made me feel very heard and that was really nice. She had to deal with a very needy person on the phone but I was just laughing at the distressed faces she was making as she tried to get this person to understand she was saying "es" and not "us" like the person was insisting. Very silly.
I walked to the car with Kaitlyn. And the I headed to the dollar store to look for stuff for my market table. And I had pretty good luck. I decided I would put my bears in popcorn containers. And I think it looks so cute.
I went home and started setting up my table and it's not perfect but I'm really happy with it. I also figured out a way to use my mini printer to possibly do on the spot mini drawing commissions. And that was really exciting. I also decided to work on my new sign. So I found some wood to spray paint on the fire escape. And then I decided to go for a walk.
I needed to go to Walgreens and get a new eyeliner. And as I was leaving Mr Will was there and it was so nice to see him!! We talked for a little bit. And then James was home and I said goodbye and be back soon to both of them.
I would get my eyeliner and a new gel moisturizer. Some candy. And then home.
I would work more on my sign. Which I am not photographing yet but I think is looking so good. And then got to work on my pressed flower frames I wanted to make this week. I also got more work done sewing down my knit edges from my look piece. I felt super productive and that felt really good.
James made us pasta for dinner. And while it was good I don't understand why pasta sauce always tastes weird and nothing like when I was a kid. Even when I buy the same brand my mom did. It's all just watery and boring. Just sucks.butbthe garlic bread was nice.
I started getting really really cold. No idea why. I took a bath but it didn't help as much as I hoped. At least I was clean.
Now I am in my new hoodie and cuddled up with Sweetp. And James is here and playing Zelda. All I want is a snack and to go to sleep.
I am at the museum tomorrow. And I hope it's a good day. I have more market things to do but I also just want to rest. Fingers crossed that it works out how I want.
Sleep well everyone. Be careful out there. I love you!
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aamethyst000 · 1 year
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Oct 25,22 1:59pm
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I instinctively roll my eyes and groan when my mother asks me to do anything. I question that a lot. am reacting because it is annoying or am I reacting like a teen and not really keeping my word about changing? I'm catching myself more and more often, doing this. and every single time, I am trying to rationalize with myself and ask myself a few questions. take a few calming breathes and take a few steps back. it helps every now and again, but I can feel that I am getting close to bursting.
there are days where it feels like I'm caged in, yet, there are no locks on the door. others I'm feeling more claustrophobic and I have to go for a walk to calm down. other days I am okay. however, my answer is all the same, I need to move, I want to move from the village here. and I am pretty sure it is not entirely my mum trying to trap me in. sure, we have our moments but don't we all? as long as we get back to that conversation and talk about it and work out whatever conflicts we have, we are fine. so, knowing this, I know it's mostly the village that is making me feel more closeted. I still haven't told my mum what my pronouns are and that I have changed my name. I know that she'll support me because I brought up that I want to change my last name for years now. and she is fine by that. encourages it, actually
2:53pm - mum and I are just prepping dinner for tonight. just going get ready to head out and then come home and make another pot of coffee. shes making a salad bowl too with our din din~
4:15pm - just took some pretty pictures just outside my house, ill be editing them later on and I'll post them here and on Instagram. they are so pretty!! I love the fall ♡♡ I can get so many pretty pictures from this season ♡
6:52pm - just having a toke before going to make mashed potatoes for our supper. I'm on my third cup of coffee, I need to catch up on my water intake now. I can feel a headache coming on. I've been thinking of painting my nails again, maybe black and purple instead of all purple. i was chilling on tiktok before I got up to prep the mashed potatoes, and writing in my journal book.
7:50pm
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my little brother came with me into the bushes across the street from where we live. it was nice going back in there, especially with him. I took a few more, I am just editing them. I think I am going to post them in tomorrow's post. i like how they look a little dark, really loving the aesthetic ♡
9:26pm - just having a toke with my family again, and we just finished having supper. holy fck I am full, I actually want to go to bed. I gotta wait an hour or 2 before I actually can go to bed. it is only Tuesday and I feel like this week tired me out already, holy fck. I can't wait till I buy my own laptop, so I can actually type this all out.
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detectiveconnor · 3 years
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.... freedom
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jobean12-blog · 3 years
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Lumberjack in Love
Pairing: Bucky x reader (Lumberjack AU)
Word Count: 1,580
Summary: You’re new to town and you meet your very first neighbor. 
Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club drunk drabbles and clean up the archive challenge. It took me a minute to grab his great prompt up buy my lovely friend @eurynome827 totally inspired me and boom here it is. Hope you enjoy. I really liked writing this! Thank you all so very much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ My beautiful divider is by my love @imerdwarf
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Warnings: sweet and soft fluff, shy Bucky being a sweet hunk of beefy goodness :)
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As you sit on the small porch of your new house and look around you still can’t believe the beauty of the mountains. It’s early Spring so the mornings are still chilly, and you pull your blanket scarf tighter around your shoulders.
A distant bark catches your attention, and you squint through the trees to see a white fluff bounding right toward you. Your first instinct is to run into the house but then you hear the deep voice of the man running after the animal and you pause.
As they get closer you can clearly see it’s a large dog and instantly relax.
“Winter! Come back here right now!” the man yells just as the dog happily trots up your steps.
He nudges his nose under your hand for a pet and you can’t help but oblige.
“Winter!” the man growls and you instantly look up.
And you keep looking up for what feels like miles until you reach the crystal blue eyes of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. His long chestnut hair is pulled back into a low bun, but a few pieces have come loose and now frame his perfectly shaped jaw.
Your eyes wander over his plump lips and dark beard before you take in the rest of him. The soft flannel he wears is pulled tight over his broad shoulders and chest with the sleeves rolled up and barely containing his biceps.
The leather belt at his waist is worn and soft but seems pointless when the dark jeans he’s wearing are practically painted onto his thick thighs.  Heavy boots cover his feet as they seem to continuously shuffle back and forth while you shamelessly check him out.
You stand and hold out your hand, introducing yourself. At first he just stares at you then down at your hand before wiping his own on his pants. His large hand closes around yours, the warmth and strength sending a new wave of appreciation through you.
“Hi, I’m Bucky,” he says quietly, holding onto your hand a bit longer than necessary before quicky letting go and shuffling on his feet again.
“It’s nice to meet you Bucky,” you reply, pointing at the dog. “And who is this?” you ask.
“Oh! Right. That’s Winter. Sorry about that. He took off after a squirrel and then he must have caught your scent. There aren’t too many people around here so…” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
“He’s beautiful,” you gush, scratching Winter behind the ears but never taking your eyes from Bucky.
His tongue darts out to lick his lips and his mouth opens but nothing comes out. After a few more seconds of silence, he seems to find his voice.
“Thanks! He’s a good boy, just adventurous. I hope he uh, didn’t disturb you or anyone else,” he mumbles, gesturing toward your house.
“Not at all,” you assure him. “It’s just me and I’m happy he came to say hello and brought you along too. You’re the first neighbor I’ve met.”
“I think I’m your only neighbor,” he laughs. “I’m just about a quarter of a mile that way and I think the next house might be two and half miles passed me.”
“Well, I’m glad it’s you. And Winter is just a bonus,” you flirt.
The pink that creeps up his cheeks only makes you like him more and can’t stop your giggle.
“I’m about to make some blueberry muffins. Could I bring you some when they’re done?” you ask. “I can’t eat them all myself.”
“Yeah! I love muffins! Thank you,” he replies with a lopsided grin.  
“Ok great! I’ll see you soon,” you cheer, giving him a beaming smile. “Just that way right?” you ask him, pointing at the path in the trees.
“Huh?” he answers, staring and blinking a few times. “Oh, yea. My house. It’s uh, yep just down that path, can’t miss it.”
He shoves his hands in his jean pockets and kicks at some imaginary dirt.
“Ok then, I’ll see you soon Bucky and Winter,” you say and start to walk up your steps.
He waits for you to get to the door and open it before waving and jogging off, Winter hot on his heels.
When the blueberry muffins are baked and still warm you pack them up with some butter and start the short walk to Bucky’s house. The path is lined with stones and the tall evergreen trees create a beautiful aromatic frame along the dirt. The sound of cracking wood reaches your ears the closer you get.
At the end of the path the land opens up to large piece of green grass with the perfect log cabin sitting at the back. You smile when you see Winter sitting on the porch, his big and fluffy tail thumping loudly on the wood.
You look to the right and finally see the source of the sound. Bucky stands over a pile of wood and a large tree stump, wielding a large axe with ease. He brings it up above his head and swings it down, splitting the wood perfectly.
It’s hard to tear your eyes away from him and the way his muscles move under the tight clothing. It isn’t until Winter’s cold nose hits your leg that you look away and start walking again.
Winter’s happy barks pull Bucky’s attention from the wood and he turns to you. He sets down the axe and comes over to take the basket from your hands.
“Hi again,” he says sweetly, quickly looking at the muffins before his eyes meet yours again. “I’m glad you came back.”
You hook your arm through his. “Of course, I did,” you state obviously and pull him toward the porch. “Who else am I going to share these muffins with.”
He chuckles and dips his head, unable to hide the permanent flush on his cheeks whenever he’s around you.
“We could sit on the porch swing if you want. Or if it’s too cold you’re welcome to come in,” he tells you. “I could make tea. Do you drink tea? I also have coffee if you prefer. Or something cold? I should have lemonad…”
He’s about to go on but you reach up and place your hand on his cheek.
“Tea is just fine Bucky, thank you,” you say softly. “And we can sit out here. It’s so beautiful and the sun is warm.”
He nods a few times before rushing into the house to make the tea. You sit on the swing and prepare the muffins, gently pushing yourself back and forth with your foot. Winter lays just a few feet away in a warm patch of sunshine.
“Ok, hot tea coming right up,” Bucky says as he pushes the screen door open with his butt.
He sits opposite you on the bench, the basket of muffins between you and places the cups on the small table to the side.
“I brought honey, milk and sugar. I hope one of those will be ok,” he says.
“Perfect, thank you! I hope you like the muffins. I have butter for them too,” you say, holding one up on a napkin.
He takes it and has a bite, the crumbling dough breaking apart and getting stuck on his lips and in his beard.
“Wow. These are amazing,” he raves before taking another large bite.
You move the basket from between your bodies and shift closer to him. You bring your fingers up to his chin and lightly brush off the crumbs before swiping your thumb over his lips.
“They’re very crumbly and messy,” you explain, letting your gaze settle on his mouth before taking a bite of your own muffin.
“They’re perfect,” he stammers, clearly reacting to your touch.
His eyes watch as your tongue traces your lips to clean them of crumbs and he audibly swallows.
“These are amazing,” he mumbles, unmoving.
“You said that already,” you tease, squeezing his bicep before reaching for a cup of tea.
“Did I?” he says, more to himself than you. “I did. Didn’t I?”
You nod with a giggle and take a sip of tea. Winter trots over and rests his nose on the edge of the swing, clearly waiting for someone to share.
“Can I give him a piece?” you ask.
“Sure,” Bucky replies, laughing when Winter scarfs down the piece of muffin in one bite. “That’s one of the ways we’re the same. He loves to eat as much as I do.”
You throw your head back with a laugh.
“Well, that works out just great for me because I love to bake and cook!” you tell him. “As a matter of fact, I’m making pot pie for dinner. You should join me.”
Bucky doesn’t hesitate for a second when he answers.
“I’d love that. Pot pie is on of my favorites.”
You take one last sip of your tea before standing and covering the muffins.  
“The rest are for you,” you say, pushing the basket toward him. “And I have a feeling you’ll say that about a lot of the things I make,” you say playfully. “I’ll see you at 6 sharp then?”
“Yes, definitely,” he whispers, his eyes going wide when you lean in to place a soft kiss to his cheek.
“See you then, Bucky. And don’t forget to bring Winter and an appetite,” you yell as you head back down the path to your house.
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@addikted-2-dopamine @bugsbucky​ @book-dragon-13​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @fxckbuckyscoming​ @hiddles-rose​ @jhangelface0523​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @jewels2876​ @littleredstarfish​ @lookiamtrying​ @lorilane33​ @loricameback​ @la-cey @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @cherryblossomskye​ @tuiccim​ @whatrambles​ @white-wolf1940​
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suituuup · 3 years
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pieces - chapter twelve
Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn’t expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.
rated: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)
ao3 link
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Chloe was surprised to hear music drifting through the apartment when she got home from her late-afternoon NA meeting that Thursday evening. 
It had been four days since they had come back from Oregon, and Beca had spent most of her time at the label, often coming home after Chloe was down for the night and leaving before she was up. She always left a note and texted Chloe throughout the day to check on her, but Chloe could tell something was off. 
She rounded the corner to find Beca cooking at the stove, and smiled. “Hi.”
“Hey you,” Beca greeted with a matching smile. “You hungry? Making a stir-fry.” 
“Starving. This baby is making me eat for three,” Chloe mumbled as she walked past Beca to pluck a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge. She uncapped it and took a sip, leaning against the counter. “Are you alright? I couldn’t help but notice you’ve seemed off since we got back.” 
Beca nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I uh,” she cleared her throat as she reached for two plates in the cupboard over her head. “I broke up with Sarah the other night.” 
Chloe’s eyes popped wider in shock. “Oh.”
Beca set both plates on the island, then opened the cutlery drawer. “Yeah… and I kinda threw myself into work, because that’s what I do to cope with my emotions.” She grimaced again, meeting Chloe’s eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.” 
Chloe shook her head. “No, no, it’s okay. I’m sorry, Bec.” She wondered what the reason for the break-up was, but she doubted Beca wanted to get into that. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 
“Thanks. Yeah. It’s, um, life, right?” She shrugged a little as she turned off the stove. “We just weren’t looking for the same thing.” 
Chloe nodded slowly, then pushed off the counter. “Okay. I’m here if you wanna talk, alright?” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “I’m just going to freshen up, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” 
Beca had scooped food into each plate and poured water into two glasses when she got back clad in comfier clothes, and Chloe perched herself on the stool across from Beca. 
“Thanks for making dinner,” she murmured as she dug in.
“No problem. Did your NA meeting go okay?” Beca asked as she stabbed a couple of vegetables with her fork. 
Chloe chewed and swallowed, then took a sip of her water. “Yeah, it went fine. My sponsor is amazing. We’re meeting for coffee tomorrow morning. Well, tea for me.” Decaf just wasn’t the same. 
“Cool.” Beca smiled. “I was thinking we could get a start on the nursery soon? Have you thought of a color for the walls?”
“You wanna paint the walls?” Chloe asked in surprise. “We don’t have to do that, you know. I don’t want you to be stuck with a nursery-looking room once Bean and I move out.” 
Beca shrugged. “I have another guest room, and I kinda want Bean to have their own room whenever you guys come to visit.” 
Chloe’s heart swelled against her ribs. She wasn’t sure what she had done to deserve someone like Beca back in her life, but she wasn’t going to screw it up this time around. And she had thought about what she wanted Bean’s nursery to look like, but didn’t allow herself to daydream about it until now. “I like those beige walls the way they are, but I was thinking of a woodland theme? Something gender-neutral, for sure. A few animal frames, maybe an animal mobile above the crib?” 
“That sounds nice,” Beca said, smiling. “Are you going to find out the sex at your next appointment?” 
“I think so, yeah.” 
“That’s the 26th at 3, right?” Beca asked, surprising Chloe once more. Upon catching her look, Beca added, “I wrote it down in my planner.” 
It was one thing to have written down, another to remember it off the bat like that, but Chloe didn’t even know why she was surprised. Beca had been nothing short of amazing since Chloe decided to keep the baby, between keeping track of the baby’s growth on her app or making sure to pick up ginger ale every time she went grocery shopping.
“Oh. Yeah, the 26th at 3.” 
As Chloe further settled into her second trimester, her constant exhaustion gradually faded away. She felt more energized from the start of her fifteenth week, which felt like a breath of fresh air. As her OBGYN saw nothing against it, she started each day with a morning fitness walk followed by a yoga session, then settled down to have some breakfast as she read her book. After lunch, she either had a therapy session or an NA meeting, except for Wednesdays and over the weekend. 
The cravings were still there, sitting somewhere at the back of her mind, but she continued pushing through, for the baby’s sake first and foremost, but also because she didn’t want to disappoint her support system and risk losing them forever if she did fall back into old habits. The taunting was strong, every time she walked in front of the liquor store or a familiar street corner where she would get the good stuff, but she resisted, and never hesitated to call Aubrey or her parents when her resolve wobbled a bit too much for her liking. 
“Shit,” Chloe muttered as she tried buttoning her pants up, her more than noticeable belly getting in the way. She had just reached 17 weeks, and her bump seemed to have popped a little more overnight. So had her boobs. She could also start to feel some movement going on in there, which was absolutely mind-blowing. 
Not ready to accept defeat yet, Chloe grunted at the effort of bringing these two stupid pieces of fabric closer together, exhaling with a sigh when they didn’t budge. 
“Chlo?” Beca called out, a knock on Chloe’s bedroom door following. “We should get going.” 
“I know, I just-- can’t get my pants to button,” Chloe muttered with a huff. 
A pause. “Can I come in?” 
“Yeah.” 
The door was pushed open, and Beca appeared, leaning against the frame. 
She Beca looked amused, causing Chloe to glare at her. “Maybe wear a dress?” 
Chloe’s nose wrinkled. “I only have stripper dresses.” That she should definitely donate, or get rid of. 
Beca hummed. “Mesh shorts?” 
“I guess, yeah.” 
“We can go buy some stuff after your appointment if you want?” Beca suggested as Chloe wrestled out of her jeans and slid on a pair of shorts Beca lent her. 
“Yeah, definitely.” She needed bras, too. “Okay, I’m ready.” 
As her last ultrasound at 13 weeks, Chloe didn’t have to change when they got there, and she laid down on the cot as they waited for the tech to come in. Beca stood by her side, scrolling through her phone. 
“So the Bellas’ results are in: 6 say boy, 4 say girl. I said girl.” 
Chloe had broken the news to the girls when they came back from Oregon and had once again received nothing but support. Bets started coming in over the gender, the due date, and whether Bean was going to come out with ginger hair. 
Chloe chuckled as she rubbed her bump with her palm. “You only said girl because I told you I felt like it was a girl.” 
Beca smirked. “They don’t have to know that.” Her expression softened as she pocketed her phone. “You excited to find out?” 
“Yeah,” Chloe breathed out. She was more anxious to hear about how Bean was doing and braced herself for bad news. 
“Hi there,” the tech greeted as she came in. “How are you doing, Chloe?” 
“Good. Hungry all the time.” 
The other woman laughed as she rolled the ultrasound machine closer. “Let’s take a look at that baby. Can you lift your top up for me and lower your shorts a little bit?” 
Chloe did so, reaching for Beca’s hand as the tech squirted some of that cold gel onto her tummy. 
“Alright, let’s see…” the woman drawled out as she moved the wand until she got the perspective she wanted. “Here we go.” 
“Oh, they got so big,” Chloe murmured in awe. 
“They’re moving around quite a bit,” the tech observed with a smile, pointing at the baby’s kicking legs. 
Beca gasped and tore her eyes away from the screen to glance at Chloe. “Can you feel that?” 
“Yeah,” Chloe confirmed, blinking back the tears pricking behind her eyes. “Feels like butterflies taking off in my belly.” 
“Strong heartbeat,” the tech continued. “Baby’s in the perfect position to tell their gender if you want to know?” 
“Yes, please,” Chloe said with a nod. 
“Looks like you’re having a baby girl, Chloe.” 
“A girl?” Chloe croaked out, a lump rising to her throat. The gender didn’t matter to her but knowing made it feel a thousand percent more real. She felt a squeeze to her hand and found Beca smiling down at her. “We’re in trouble. I was a handful as a kid.”
Beca chuckled. “If she has your eyes, I definitely am in trouble. Won’t be able to say no to anything she asks for, I’m warning you now.” 
The way they talked, it almost sounded like they were going to raise Bean together, and Chloe’s heart did another funny thing. Over the last couple of weeks, she had been experiencing weird feelings for Beca that went beyond the friendship line, but she was convinced it was just her hormones acting up like they did with her libido. Chloe felt aroused pretty much all the time, it was getting ridiculous. She also cried in front of a Budweiser commercial because the puppies were cute, so her body and emotions were definitely out of whack. 
The doctor came in shortly after, easing Chloe’s worries when she assured her the baby looked healthy, with normal measurements all around. They scheduled another ultrasound four weeks from now, and she and Beca were on their way with three copies of the ultrasound, one for Chloe, one to put on the fridge, and one Beca requested to store in her wallet. 
Beca drove them to Target next, and instead of heading to the maternity clothing section, Chloe went straight for the baby stuff, pulling a chuckle from Beca as she pushed the cart alongside. 
“Okay, I wanna buy everything,” Chloe mused aloud as she put a onesie back on the rack, even though she found it adorable.
“I know you’re still uncomfortable with it, but please don’t restrain yourself because it’s my money,” Beca said, as though reading Chloe’s thoughts. “I haven’t really had anyone to spend it on, so it’s my pleasure to get Bean whatever they need. Crib, car seat, changing table, stroller, clothes… you name it.” She smirked, nodding towards the rack. “So get that rainbow onesie, because it’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” 
Chloe giggled and nodded, her eyes shining with unspoken gratitude before she reached for the onesie. It was scary to think of how small her baby girl was going to be as a newborn, and Chloe was so glad she wasn’t doing this on her own. 
She selected five more, all animal-themed ones, then moved onto shirts and pants, showing Beca what she thought was cute to get her avail. She kept in mind that the Bellas and her parents were probably going to go overboard with gifts and paced herself on the quantity of stuff she dropped into the cart. 
“I feel like we should get the crib, stroller, and car seat from like, a special store?” Beca chimed in as they strolled through the blankets/swaddles section. She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t think I trust Target brands when it comes to sturdiness. I actually strumbled across a car seat that looks amazing, it goes from that to a stroller in just a few folds and clicks.” 
Chloe cast her an amused look. “How did you stumble across that, exactly?” 
Beca’s cheeks reddened. “By looking up the best strollers on the market.” She cleared her throat when Chloe giggled. “I just have a lot of time to kill on the subway.” Another grimace. “Is that too invasive?” 
Chloe shook her head, reaching out to rest her hand on Beca’s forearm. The contact of her skin under her fingertips made Chloe swallow as her body immediately reacted. Freaking hormones. “Not at all. I promise.” 
Chloe managed to walk away from the baby part of the store before she bought the whole thing, and headed to the maternity wear, buying a couple of jeans with an elastic waistband, a belly band, a few bras, and a pregnancy pillow. 
“Your total is $843,50,” the cashier announced once he had rung everything up, and Chloe swallowed thickly, glancing at Beca with slightly wider eyes. 
“It’s fine, Chlo,” Beca insisted as she swiped her credit card through the device. She thanked the cashier and grabbed most of the bags, letting Chloe carry the two lighter ones. Everything easily fit into Beca’s large trunk, and Chloe slid in the passenger seat, buckling up. “Any particular craving for dinner? We can stop for take-out on the way home,” Beca said as she slid her sunglasses over her nose before pulling out of their parking spot.
“I could go for a burger and fries. And a milkshake.” 
Beca grinned. “Cool, I’ll stop at Shake Shack.” 
Once they got home, they hauled everything upstairs and stored it in the nursery for now, and Chloe changed into sweatpants and Beca’s Bellas hoodie which she had never given back, picking an episode of The Office for them to watch. 
“Oh, I forgot,” Beca said after they were done eating, pushing to her feet. “Stay put.” 
Chloe did as she was told, giving Beca a curious look when she walked back to the couch with a package. Setting her milkshake on the coffee table, Chloe plucked it from her hands. “What’s this?” 
“A little something for Bean,” Beca murmured as she sat back down beside her, folding one leg underneath and hugging the other to her chest. “I ordered it when we got back from Oregon and forgot to give it to you.” 
Chloe ripped the tape over the opening and peered inside, fishing the box out. “Belly headphones?” She asked even though that’s what it said on it, her voice wavering slightly as emotions once again rose to her throat. She could blame that on the hormones too, right? 
Beca nodded. “I read that babies can hear from 18 weeks on, and I thought it would be cool if Bean listened to music before she’s born. And you know nobody takes picking out a pair of headphones as seriously as I do, so I thought I was the right guy for the job.” 
A watery chuckle burst past Chloe’s lips. “This is amazing. Thank you.” She leaned forward to hug Beca, holding her tight. Her scent did another number on Chloe, and she inhaled sharply, willing her body to chill out as she backed away. “For this, and for today…” She couldn’t remember the last time she had smiled so much. “I really don’t know what to say besides thank you.” 
“You’re welcome, Chlo,” Beca said, a soft smile curving her lips. “I’m just happy you’re finding your way back step by step.” 
Chloe nodded, exhaling. The light at the end of the tunnel was just in sight, and while it was another long way to reach it, she felt like she could, and that on its own felt like a victory. 
80 notes · View notes
ecclais-fouoras · 3 years
Text
SOFTER ON THE INSIDE
Ch1
Warning ⚠️ mention of self harm and scoliosis (a bit of blood)
Wilhelmina venable was a women everyone feared. She held the outpost with her strict rules and her iron fist.
Everybody was sitting at the dinner table eating their cubes.
Everyone feared her except for you, venable was interesting and honestly very attractive.
Gallant started complaining about the food as always followed by coco and you could again feel venable get annoyed at this.
"Come on you can't keep serving us this shit !"
"He's right ! I'm starving and you give us that crap !"
"Stop it coco She's not our enemy for God sakes ! Eat your cube damn ! Your alive !!! You are actually ALIVE when the rest of the world is rather dead or dying. So stop being the ungrateful spoiled bitch you always were and try to at least learn something new for once like how to be a better human being !"
She stood up from her chair and tapped her cane on the ground before she could protest you mumbled "sorry miss venable"
As you sat back on your chair.
"Miss vanderbilt, mrs gallant sit down and eat those damn cubes before I think about punishing you both"
They got back on their seats and ate in silence.
After dinner you went to the Library for a bit before going to bed.
You were drawing on some handmade paper with charcoal and you heard ths soft thud of Venable's cane on the floor.
You immediately pulled down the burned material and cleaned up your hands on your dress.
Your long purple dress was now a bit dirty and you couldn't help but feel like a dear cought in headlights.
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"What are you doing in here miss y/l/n
And why are your clothes dirty"
"I'm sorry miss venable i was just drawing in hear and since I don't have any material i had to be a little creative but it turned out to be quite messy"
You said softly.
"Well i suppose you are allowed to draw but you will clean up after your mess"
"Yes of course i will, is there any particular reason why you came here?"
"Can't i just enjoy a little reading in the library"
"Oh..of course i just...well of course you can"
"That's awfully nice of you miss"
She said in a sarcastic tone.
She sat down on the couch and you went back to drawing. She noticed a jar field with red liquid that you seemed to be using as paint with a brush made out of hair and wood. She really admired your inventivity, and how you came up with solution to everything.
"What is that ?" She asked pointing the pot and you got really nervous suddenly.
"...what do you mean?"
"What is the red liquid and where does it comes from ?" She asked in a strict tone
"...it's... blood"
"WHAT !" She was shocked and kind of disappointed you had always been her favorite and now this !
"Wait I CAN EXPLAIN !" You said your voice filled with urgency.
"Of course you will, i expect yo..."
"It's mine !" Before she could finish her sentence you cut her off.
"I'm sorry what ?"
"It's mine, the blood in the cup. I didn't have any paint, and i couldn't get anything to make pigment powder. Since I only have black and grey i figured that red would be more interesting and put some egg yolk and blood in a jar." She was confused.
"Is this your period blood?"
"No it's blood, blood"
"Where did you get it then"
"...well...i just had to make a small incision on my ankle"
"....and why on your ankle miss y/L/n ?"
"Well it's the place that bleeds the most with the littlest pain, and it's also easier to clean and hide..."
"And How Would you know that"
There was a longer pause between you two.
"I expect an answer y/n"
"... I...I just do"
"Try harder, I am not buying it "
"I...I used to self harm...I just...now i know how it bleeds and how much does it hurts"
"..i had no idea I'm sorry"
"It's fine I'm okay now, it took me the apocalypse but i figured if the world is ending with us i should try to stay clean"
"Can I see your drawing ?"
"Yes sure bit i thought you were trying to read ?"
"Yes i wanted to but the couch is uncomfortable"
"Yes that's why I sit here it's better...here have a seat"
You said as you patted the place next to you.
"Here ?"
"Yes, well of you want to of course."
"I do"
There was something in the air between you two and you could feel it.
"When did you start this ? It looks really good, were you an artist before ?"
"Yesterday, and well not as a job but I did practice a lot"
"Anyways you have a lot of talent."
"Thank you, do you want to draw too? I can give you one of the paper sheets i made"
"No thank you"
"Okay"
You two sat there for a few hours until it was time to go back to your rooms, you offered to take her and she kindly accepted. As you were before the door she read a message that was on the door
"I can't help you tonight i had to go and clean something "
"Shit" she cursed behind her breath
"What was that ?" You asked softly "is everything okay ?"
"Yes" she replied coldly, it was odd especially since she had been sweet to you the whole time.
"I can tell there is something wrong, can I help ? You do so much for us, i just want to give you a hand in return"
She didn't say anything as she was considering letting you in, after all you had been nice all along, she could try and trust you. Could she ?
"You can trust me you know. Whatever it is i won't tell them"
She opened her door slightly and pulled you in. Suddenly her stance had changed, she was more tired, more vulnerable, and cute? Yes definitely she looked so sweet.
"..well..this is embarrassing, i"
"Don't be embarrassed around me miss venable, everyone needs a little help every once in awhile, it's also nice to see you like this"
"What do you mean like this ?"
"Well I mean without anyone else to bother us, and you know...like you're normal self"
"I'm not normal y/l/n"
"Please call me y/n, and You are... I mean normal as in being yourself... without trying to scare everyone"
She giggled softly and a smile crept up your face.
"See just like this"
You both stared at each other before you could ask her what she needed help with.
"So you need me for something ?"
".. yes..you see usually miss mead helps me change since I can't pull the zipper of my dresses in my... condition"
"Sure okay...so just turn around and I'll unzip you" you began to make her spin but she stopped you
"Wait..you need to know...i have scoliosis...it looks disgusting.."
"Do you want me to close my eyes if it'd make you more comfortable ? The last thing I want is to hurt you by trying to help. But know that I won't judge you, especially if it's about a physical appearance you can't help with. You know our bodies is what keeps us alive, i spent all my life trying to destroy mine in everyway possible because the feeling of being inside of it was to unbearable. But it turns out my body is what makes me feel, smile, laugh, smell and love. I would not be there if she wasn't. So i had to learn to be kinder to myself"
Her eyes were watery as she took your words in. It was so out of character for her, she always seemed to have everything together but in reality she was a big softy struggling with self image.
"Oh no please don't cry, i don't want to see you be sad." You said as you held her cheek, it was a bold move but she didn't seem to be mad about it.
You decided to stay in front of her to unzip her, and reach behind her to find the hell of her dress.
She flinched lighltly as you dragged it down her spine, and she didn't have time to catch her dress as it fell at her feet. She wore this purple lingerie gown underneath and you couldn't help but stare at her body.
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"Oh God, I'm sorry. Leave now please"
"Don't be sorry it's fine, here" you picked her dress up and covered her with it.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of Wilhelmina, you are breathtakingly beautiful"
You left as you pecked her cheek and smiled at her while she looked at you stunned and blushing.
God what were you doing to her ?
73 notes · View notes
dollfaceeeeee · 3 years
Text
There’s something eery about it.
I can’t quite put my finger on it, even as the horse stops with a sudden halt outside the looming gates of Crimson Peak.
It’s dilapidated, spiraling and stretching toward the sky, damaged and crumbling at the seams, but the darkness that sweeps over it seems to call to me, even from the distance separated between us.
I’m not so sure I can move fast enough to meet it.
Stepping out into the cool, English air, it tickles the nape of my neck, dragging loops of my raven colored hair from the knot of tresses on top of my head, and I hum in approval as John attempts to drag the crates containing my things from the back of the carriage.
The driver, William, is already down and trying to help too, but they both huff under the weight of it all, making a dusting of heat crawl over my spine in embarrassment.
Gathering the ends of my skirts, I attempt to wade through the frosted, muddy ground below us, but I realize with dread that it sticks heavily to my shoes.
“Did something happen here, William? It seems..”
William shoots me a quizzical smile, dragging the last of my things out before the crate slams onto the ground, and I flinch slightly at the noise as John dusts himself off.
“It seems old, and kind of spooky, doesn’t it? Well, it used to belong to the Sharpes. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories, haven’t you? About Thomas and Lucille and all those women? Luckily his last wife, Edith, escaped, or she would have died too. It’s sad, honestly, and the place needs a lot of work, but I’m sure you have it plenty figured out. Johnny, here, will get it warm and comfortable in no time at all.”
John peers at me quietly, trying to read my expression on the whole thing, but I’m sure I don’t reveal anything; trying to stay cool and collected at the idea of what might have happened in this house to other women.
Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.
“So, how did you come across acquiring this place, then, John, darling?”
He shrugs, his tall stature hunching as he attempts to gather my belongings in his arms; his golden hair tucked neatly behind his ears, exposing the honey hues in his hazel eyes.
“At an auction. Remember, I told you about that last Autumn? Although, this is the first time I’ve ever seen it, and I might be regretting it.”
Giving it another look, I can see the majesty in it, but also the haunted curves of its’ design, looming over the land like a predator ready to consume prey, and my throat tightens before John’s heavy hand clasps my shoulder.
“Don’t worry so much, Emily. Come, we must go inside. I can’t have my new bride catching a chill.”
It is dreadfully cold, I think bitterly, so I don’t hesitate at the idea of finding warmth, and I take his elbow as we make our way toward the house.
As we edge closer, I have a certain feeling of dread settling over my system, the looming pull of the house tucking me carefully inside of its’ walls.
The chill of the house hits me as soon as John and I cross the threshold, the clatter of my belongings hitting the floor making me flinch away from him, my heart hammering in my ears.
There’s something off about this place, I can feel it, even when William drags the rest of our things in behind us; dropping them much more gently on the old rotting floorboards.
“It is a bit damp in here, madam, I’m sorry. I’ll go get a fire started for you and John and then be on my way. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow, don’t we?”
John nods, gazing up at the sweeping high ceilings of the house, creaking with the gentle gusts of wind drifting through the cracks, especially the large gaping hole dead center, leaving a pile of slush in the middle of the front room floor.
The idea of anyone willingly buying this house makes me raise an eyebrow questioningly, but I ignore the thought as I try to ponder how many possible rooms this place has.
Dozens, most likely.
“Why don’t you have a look around? I’ll let you pick our room, so you’re more comfortable, and I’ll get started on something for dinner.”
I give him a nod as he draws me in close to his side, pressing his lips against my temple gently, and I can smell the faint hint of orange blossoms on his collar, making me smile.
If I had to find him with my eyes closed, that is exactly what I would search for, the scent of orange blossoms.
“Don’t you think it’s a little, um..?”
John chuckles, shrugging slightly before strolling through the front parlor, taking a look at the ceiling more pensively.
“Since when were you against a little bit of a challenge, Mrs. Peterson?”
I roll my eyes at the statement before gathering my skirts once again and ascending the staircase to the upper floor, my feet shifting painfully over the old wood; wincing as I hear some of the wood snap under me.
I can’t see that being much of a good thing for our future children, and I put the thought steadily in my mind, leaving John behind in the parlor to explore.
The house is very old, and if it isn’t evident from the outside, the upper hallways tell the tale; large, dusted paintings of elegant women sit peering at me from behind the veils of glass, and the ugly crimson walls chip painfully with every step I take past them.
It’s almost never ending, but I duck my head into every room I pass, some of them still containing furniture, to my surprise; ornate bathtubs and copper molding and porcelain sculptures that have long become dusty with age, along with the pale blue bedding that covers each bed I see.
In its’ prime, this house would have been gorgeous, a stunning thing to behold, but now it was barely holding itself together, gripping onto each other by the tips of fingers.
I pass a room without looking, almost not noticing the large oak door, but I stop rigidly once I hear it creak open loudly from behind me, the old doorknob wiggling wildly in greeting.
Spinning around, my heart almost stops as I take in the pale shape standing before me, not even four feet away, his eyebrows drawn sharply together as he eyes me intently; his body like a statue, cold and tall and very not lifelike in the slightest.
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, but I know that I’ve never seen this man before, not in my entire life, but I know the likelihood of John hearing me all the way up here is low, intensely low, and the thought alone makes me terrified.
He looks familiar in the strangest way, in the most peculiar sense, and I can almost put my finger on it where I know him from, but I can’t seem to figure it out.
“Who...who are you? What are you doing in my house?”
The side of his mouth dips down into a lopsided frown, his dark hair curling around his ears before he gazes over his shoulder, almost taking a protective stance in front of me.
“You can’t be here. Please, you must leave. You must leave now, before she finds you.”
Scoffing, I shake my head, trying to convince myself he’s either a part of my crazy imagination, or maybe, just maybe, he’s helping William with the house.
But I don’t think either of those, deep down in my soul, are true at all.
“This is my house. I think it’s best if you leave, actually. I don’t even know who-“
“Thomas,” he says swiftly, creeping toward me, “Thomas Sharpe.”
That’s where I know him from.
“No, that’s impossible. Is this some sick joke? Thomas Sharpe is dead.”
He nods, swallowing loudly before creeping even closer to me, almost too close for my comfort.
“I am Thomas Sharpe. And if my sister, Lucille, finds you, you’re going to be dead, too.”
37 notes · View notes
smol-and-grumpy · 4 years
Text
EUPHORIA - Chapter 24
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, owner of a shady night club. She’s a journalist who has been asked to write an article to expose the indecency and debauchery that’s going on behind closed doors. But he’s also Dean Winchester, the boy who sat next to her in class. The boy who was too cocky for his own good.
Chapter Warning: NSFW, flangst
WC: 2824
A/N: This chapter fills my ‘voice kink’ square for @spnkinkbingo.
Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3
This series is complete on Patreon!
Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist
Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee
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He’s pissed and overly grumpy. It’s too fucking early to be dealing with bullshit. But he’s also grumpy because he had to see Y/N off.
Walking around the corner, Cas’ notices him and nods. 
“Again?” Dean asks, sees them washing down the red paint. It looks bloody and it smells awful. It almost made him nauseous.
“Yeah,” Cas sighs, “It’s nothing I couldn’t deal with, so I didn’t feel the need to call you.”
“That’s okay,” Dean crosses his arms over his chest, watches the paint come off the walls before he turns to Cas, “Security footage?”
“We got it,” Cas says, but he doesn’t look happy about it so Dean already knows that it’s probably not even worth mentioning, “The guy wore a Vendetta mask and was dressed in black.”
“Great,” Dean breathes out, his hand goes up to rub at his forehead. There’s a puddle of paint running down the pavement towards him, and he takes a step to the side.
It’s moments like these that Dean wants to give up completely. That he wants to just sell the whole fucking thing and go do something else, being a fucking accountant for the firm Sam’s working in or just something that’s less stressful. Somewhere where he has to deal with less hate, maybe. Less jealousy. 
He places a hand on Cas’ shoulder, “You go home and get some shut eye. I’ll see you for the briefing later,” 
“‘K,” Cas answers and turns to walk away. Looking back, he calls out to Dean, “Balth is waiting in your office!”
Dean groans and rolls his eyes at that.
Apparently, he can’t catch a fucking break around here.
*
Dean walks into his office and sees Balthazar sitting on the couch. The man’s busy working on his laptop. A scent of coffee lingers in the air. He must have brought a cup with him because Dean doesn’t have a coffee machine in his office. What he has, though, is a fucking bar and he wonders if it would be too soon to pour himself a couple of fingers? It’s probably five o’clock somewhere , right? 
Even though his mouth waters at the thought of the burning liquid filling his throat and clouding his head, Dean abandons the thought quite quickly. She doesn’t like him to drink. It has a lot to do with how she grew up and Dean respects that, has toned it down since Y/N came back into his life, and he wants to keep that up.
“Balth,” Dean greets the man and walks over to his desk, sits down with a loud grunt, “What can I do for you?”
“How’s your hand?”
“Good.” Dean nods and holds it up, takes a look at it himself.
It’s bandaged. Y/N was telling him that he should let her do it or she’ll get angry at him. He smirks at the memory. He would have loved to say that she could get mad all she wants, because he likes how cute she looks when she’s mad, but he thinks that would have been a bad move on his part, so he just held still while she sat on his lap and bandaged his hand. The lap sitting was a deal he negotiated because he said that he wouldn’t let her if she wouldn’t sit on his lap. She rolled her eyes but sat down and it’s crazy how his lap was made for her to sit on.
Balthazar clears his throat before he closes his laptop, and Dean is catapulted back to reality. Back to an annoying work day. He thinks maybe he should take a break, ask her if she’s game to go on a road trip. Just the two of them, driving where the road takes them with no clear destination. Dean doesn’t think he needs one with her.
“I’ve stayed with Cole after you left.” Balthazar says while he places his laptop back into its bag.
“And?” Dean frowns.
“He won’t press charges,”
Dean snorts, “Yeah, because we have the upper hand.”
It’s no surprise. Dean knew that he wouldn’t. If he would, he’d see his ass in jail and Dean doubts that Cole would survive a day in there. All Dean wanted was to make a statement and he thinks that he was pretty clear about what the statement entailed.
“Still, you should be more careful with breaking bones.” Balthazar gets up from the couch and walks over to the chair across from Dean. He doesn’t sit down, though, only braces his hands on it, leaning in a little.
“He was touching what’s fucking mine, Balth. What do you want me to do?” Dean shouts out and immediately regrets his outburst because it hurt his own ears. He pinches the bridge of his nose. It’s too fucking early. 
When Dean calms down a little, he asks, “So, you had your eyes on him? He wasn’t anywhere near the club?”
“Nope, I drove him to the ER and he underwent surgery to correct his fucking jaw that you broke. He’ll stay there for the next two days, at least.”
“Good,” Dean nods. It’s not exactly good when it comes to the club, though, because Cole’s out of the picture, “Can you get more people on board? I want someone watching the club after closing. It’s a tiny window of time, three, maybe four hours.”
Balthazar nods, “I can do that.”
*
After Balthazar left, Dean decided to start up his computer since he hasn’t checked his emails for a couple of days now. He deliberately doesn’t have his work emails on his phone. It’s his private property and he made it clear from the beginning that he’s separating work and private life.
Dean clicks through the emails. There are some new member sign ups that he needs to go through. Some harmless threats which he usually bins right away. But then there are some mails that are more worrying as well.
He clicks on the first one with the title I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST NIGHT . The email opens up to pictures of the altercation in front of Y/N’s office building. Dean can see that it was shot from across the street. Maybe from a parked car. He immediately forwards the pictures to Balthazar. 
There are more emails. Without pictures though, just words. Hurtful ones. 
  I WILL TAKE YOU AND YOUR CLUB DOWN
  YOU ARE A FUCKING DISGUSTING HUMAN BEING
  SHAME ON YOU
  YOUR CLUB WILL BE CLOSED. MARK MY WORDS
  It’s really nothing new. He gets those threats quite a lot and he always makes sure to block the sender but they keep making new email accounts and so he’ll keep deleting and blocking them. Dean can’t win in this, but neither can they, so at least there’s that.
*
Later in the day, while Dean’s briefing his employees, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He fishes it out, thinks it’s Balthazar calling him about new developments. The man had called earlier already, only to suggest for Dean to get a fucking bodyguard but Dean really doesn’t know about that. He just thinks it’s a waste of money. Only when Balth mentioned that Y/N’s safety might be in danger too, does Dean at least agree to consider it.
Dean stops his speech to look at the caller ID, has to suppress his smirk while he holds up his index finger, “I gotta take this one, Cas?” 
“Yeah,” The other man jumps in, grins himself because he knows, and Dean actually wants to wipe that smile from Cas’ face but he gotta hurry if he wants to take it before she hangs up on him.
Dean turns around, picks it up, smiles like an idiot because apparently, he lost the ability to control his fucking face, “Hey,” Dean walks up the stairs and disappears into the VIP room for some privacy.
“I’m sorry, am I interrupting? You must be busy.” 
It sounds like she’s pouting, Dean bites back a chuckle, “No, it’s okay, you never interrupt. How’s the workshop going?”
He tries to sound cheerful, doesn’t want to tell her about the things that happened yet. There’s no need for her to worry, really. 
“Ugh, boring,” Y/N sighs, and adds, “I have a short break before I have to go for the mandatory dinner.”
Dean flips his wrist, sees that it’s past 5pm. He grins, “You wanna spice things up at the dinner?”
“Dean,”
“What?” He chuckles.
“Well,” Her voice is almost whiny as she considers his words, “Yeah?”
“That’s my girl,” Dean smiles, “Jesus, I’m getting all excited myself.”
Cas appears in the room and Dean nods at him, “Baby, I gotta go, I need to finish something here,”
“Okay,” It sounds like she’s pouting and god, Dean feels bad for making her feel like he doesn’t have time for her or that he doesn’t care when all he’s doing is to make fucking time. But he guesses she’ll understand once they see each other. 
“Wear it and let me know when you’re going to dinner, alright?”
“Yeah,” She sighs, “Miss you.” 
Dean sighs, closes his eyes briefly, his heart flutters at those words. He smiles at the feeling, “I miss you, too.”
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Y/N runs up to her room right after dinner, keys in her hand and leans back against the closed door as soon as she’s inside. She’s dripping wet from that vibe but she didn’t come yet. She doesn’t know how Dean does it but he always managed to stop when she’s about to come, making her whine out audibly once, and when Charlie, her friend from college who sat next to her asked what was wrong, she just said that she liked the food very much. 
God, it was so embarrassing!
She thinks about calling him but he’s probably busy working as it’s already past 10pm and the club is at its peak right about now. 
Taking off her shoes, she walks to the bathroom to clean her face and she brushes her teeth,  walking out into the bedroom shortly after. She quickly gets out of her dress and slips out of her panties that are completely soaked. 
The device is still inside of her and clear enough, it starts to buzz again, making her shriek out. She swears if he won’t let her come again—
—her phone rings.
Letting herself fall onto the bed, still in only her bra and nothing else — except for the vibrator in her pussy — she grabs at her clutch that she left there before she walked to the bathroom. 
  Dean.
  The vibrator still buzzes lightly inside of her and she picks up, has to gnaw on her bottom lip to suppress the moan.
“You are the worst!” It blurts out of her as soon as she swipes her thumb across the screen.
“Wait, what?” He’s laughing loudly.
“Yeah,” She pouts and moves up the bed, rests her back against the headboard while she spreads her legs and enjoys the buzzing between her thighs, “You turn me on and then you stop, and I was so close to coming.”
“Awe, poor baby,” Dean says in his mumbling voice and it sounds so fucking sexy, “Are you still turned on?”
“Yeah,” She mutters under her breath, “Please, you have to let me come.” 
“I don’t know,” He chuckles, “Have you been good, Y/N?”
Oh my god , he’s pulling that card, isn’t he? 
“I have. Please?” She nods and whines, teeth sinking into her bottom lip when she feels the buzzing getting stronger, moaning out shamelessly. 
“Christ, you sound so fucking sexy,” 
She can hear him growl on the other end. 
“No, you do,” There’s another increase of vibration and god, it makes her arch her back, as a shrieking sound rolls off her tongue. 
“I do? I don’t think so, sweetheart. I’m getting hard just hearing you moan.”
“It— ah— it’s your v—voice, Dean.”
“My voice? What’s with my voice, baby?” 
And it’s like he’s taunting her because it rolls deep, smooth like fucking honey and it feels like he’s wrapping her up in the warm sound. He increases the vibrations, and she didn’t know it could go further up but it does. One of her hands goes to her tit, kneads at it while she has a tight grip around her phone with the other. 
“Ah— it’s.. Fuck— it’s so deep and gravelly and oh god— it’s sexy,” 
“Yeah?” He chuckles, “Bet you’re so wet, ain’tcha, baby? You always are so wet for me. It’s the fucking best thing. Especially when you gush and come around my cock, Jesus—”
His breathing is ragged, he’s turned on too. 
Good , she thinks. At least she’s not the only one. 
“My panties were soaked. I took them off and now I’m on my bed in only my bra,” She manages to say, tongue darts out to wet her lips, “Wish you were here.” 
“I wish I was there too. Wish I could kiss you. I’d be right between your thighs right now, eating you out like you’re the sweetest thing, because you fucking are,” It comes out a little strained, “Does me telling you these thing turn you on, huh?”
“Yeah,” She chokes out a moan, “You could read me the goddamn phone book and it would turn me on, Dean.”
“Christ, I’m just imagining you right now, all spread out and wet,” There’s a low growl before he speaks again, “Can you do me a favor, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” 
“Use your words, sweetheart,” His voice is more stern. Doesn’t make it less sexy, though.
“Yes,” 
“Good girl,” 
God the praise . Y/N has to press her thighs together, already so fucking close. 
Dean goes on, “Take off your bra for me, baby. Take your thumb and forefinger, give them a firm tug for me, bet your nipples are sensitive, huh? I wanna hear you.”
She sits up to unclasp her bra before she throws it carelessly into the room. Leaning back again, her right hand goes to her left nipple, tugs hard and moans out in pained pleasure. 
“Good girl,” He coos, “Such a fucking good girl,” 
The vibration increases again and she thinks that’s the maximum it can go. Hopes it is, because she’s right there, dancing dangerously on the edge.
“Dean, please, I’m—”
“—I got you, baby,” He breathes out a soft chuckle, “Come, you can come, now. Come for me, okay? I wanna hear you come for me.” His whispering low, and the words paired with his voice, plus the added buzzing in her cunt was enough to tip her over.
Oh god. His voice is really out of his world. She comes with a squeal. His name rolls off her tongue as she squeezes her eyes shut and her legs start to tremble. Her hips buck up and she doubles over and has to roll herself into a fetal position on the bed.
There’s a ringing in her ear from the orgasm and she feels the vibration getting softer until it’s completely gone. Dean’s voice is faint in her ear through the phone.
Good girl. My fucking good girl.
She swallows hard, her eyes are still closed. When Y/N comes back to her senses, she starts to giggle and then she hears it. The knock at her door. 
“What’s so funny?” Dean asks as she sits up straight, startled from the knocking.
“Oh my god, someone just knocked at my door.” She says, her heart’s still pounding fast.
“Go on, open it.” 
“No, who would knock at this time of night? I’m sure they just have the wrong room.” She doesn’t know if she’s trying to talk to him or talk herself out of her anxiety of the realization that someone came knocking at her door late at night.
“Maybe it’s room service?” 
“Dean, I just came from dinner, I didn’t order anything!”
“Jesus Christ, I didn’t think it would be this hard!” Dean growls and she might be hearing things because she hears the deep growl outside of her door? He sighs then, “Baby, I really think you should open up.”
“Oh my god, you didn’t... Dean, no.” She scrambles off the bed, and somehow she doesn’t even care if she’s fucking naked. 
“Dean, yes!” He chuckles lightly, “Come on, I’m standing in the hallway with a visible boner and I think if someone sees it, they’ll call the cops.”
She hangs up and drops the phone onto the bed as she makes her way to the door, opens it up wide to see Dean smiling at her.
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Chapter 25
Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.
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octupus-on-the-moon · 3 years
Text
A plan
~Yeah, took longer then expected, but i´ll update regulary from now on. The ending is bad i will change that later. Anyway i hope you guys enjoy it~
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Sixth part of a nightmare
Word count: 1566
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Mental health issues 
Bucky and y/n spend the rest of the day planning how they would get to the documents of Mr. Belove. They seemed to start enjoying each other’s company. With every laugh and teasing comment, the loneliness that surrounded both faded.
“Wait a minute, won´t your father… Belove… whatever, won´t he suspect something if you don´t come home tonight?” Bucky asked from the floor. He was sitting in front of a hand painted ground-plan, looking up to y/n. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, childly swinging her feet, chewing on a lollipop.
“No, he isn´t that overprotective. I told him I met some old friend from high school and that we have a lot to catch up. Then I wrote Lisa, the woman that helps me out in the house, to pack some things and bring them to me. Don´t worry I told her to wait for me three blocks from here” y/n explained proud of her foresight.
“You really thought of everything?” Barnes praised her, tilting his head a little to the side. “I like that. You can have the bed by the way. I sleep on the floor anyway” Y/n feet stopped “Are you okey?” He frowned. Her proud expression froze. “Did I say something wrong?” Bucky added, surprising himself with a worried tone in his voice.
“No. No. It´s fine. You just reminded me of someone” She excused herself hasty. Followed by a broad smile, that didn´t reach her eyes “However, do we go over the plan again?”
 The first problem, was that her father never left the house. He spends most of the time in his office or in the library, near the office. The only moment the bureau was completely unsupervised, not counting the security system, was while breakfast, dinner, late at night or on Friday afternoon; The only day of the week he would leave the house to play golf for a few hours. Barnes and y/n decided to do the-not-actually-a-break-in that day.
The second problem only concerned Bucky. It consisted in him needing to ask Sam for another favor…  
 “It´s easy.” Barnes began “You come home from your lecture at 12 pm, then you take lunch with him. He goes off to play golf at 1:30 pm. I turn of the security system at 1:40 pm. You slip into his office and get the documents of the vault. Then we meet at the gate 2 pm sharp. If something goes wrong, we meet at 3 pm here.” He finished with his everlasting, impenetrable face.
“Sounds solid.” Her phone vibrated. “My package arrived” Y/n announced while looking at her phone. “I´ll go get it. I´ll be back in 20. Don´t do anything fun without me” and she left.
 Barnes sat still for a few moments. He was thinking. Since she arrived this morning, something inside him had changed. But what was it? Bucky questioned himself. Then he realized that he had not thought of his anger about Sam, Steve and the shield. Also, his Yori-problem, all the guilt, slid into the background. Today Bucky had laughed and smiled more than he had since 1944. Now that he was there all alone, the silences came back. He felt the void, with all his worries, slowly approaching him.
“It’s the quietest most personal hell” Dr. Raynor´s voice echoed in his mind. Maybe she was right, he thought.
Someone knocked. Barnes rushed to the door. Anything was better now. Better than that awful silence. He threw the door open, just to find Yori standing right in front of him, with a pretty displeased face.
“What about dinner James? We said 6, it´s almost 7” Nakajima complained immediately.
“Oh. Dammit. I am so sorry. I forgot. It´s just. I had a crazy day. And I have a guest.”
“A girl?”
“No! Yes. But not like that. You know what. Just come in” Yori was all smiles as he passed by Bucky, who was desperate by his sudden change of mood.
“Who is she?” Nakajima queried. He was calmly crossing the short corridor, while Barnes closed the door. Bucky´s face went blank, as it occurred him. The report was laying on the counter.
“Ehhh. She. I mean. We” Bucky stuttered as he hurried into the kitchen to collect all the papers “We are coworkers. But she has a problem in her house and is staying a few days with me” He lied after stuffing the papers into an old black backpack, casually leaning against the sink. “She should be back any moment, then we can decide over dinner” Yori looked disappointed, but his face lit up a little after a second.
“James”
“Yeah?”
“You only have one bed” a suggestive smirk appeared on Nakajima´s face. If you looked close enough you could watch Barnes´s cheeks turn red. What did he do to deserve the day of today? He asked. Probably annoy his therapist and not follow the three holy rules, Bucky answered himself, but he won´t change it in the future.
“I will sleep on the floor”
“That´s not comfortable.”
“I know but I can´t share the bed with a stranger Yori”
“Did not mean that. I have two thin extra mattresses. You can have one, till she´s home again” Nakajima offered all serious again. Barnes first reaction would have been to reject his suggestion, but if he did that, he would need to explain why he wanted to sleep on the floor so bad. Or Nakajima would misinterpret Bucky´s intention with y/n.
“That would be great, thank you”
“No problem.”
Silence. Again. But it did not last long. Although Yori preferred not to talk, he felt that something was up. James was usually a very calm guy, but now he was wriggling around impatiently. So Nakajima started to tell about his day. Barnes listen attentively, while making some tea. Grateful not to be surrounded by silence.  
 “James? I´m back” y/n interrupted them. “I thought we could order pizza” Her voice lowered at the end of the sentences, as she turned around the corner seeing Barnes and Nakajima. “Oh! Hello, I`m y/n.” She introduced herself, reaching her free hand towards Yori. The other one was holding a grey sports bag.
“Yori Nakajima a pleasure to meet you” The little grey man replied, accepting her hand.
“The pleasure is all mine Mr. Nakajima. I didn´t know you were expecting someone today” Y/n said, first addressing Yori and then Bucky.
“Yori is my neighbor. We eat sometimes together, but I forgot that we agreed for dinner tonight” Barnes explained a little insecure, because he didn´t know if it was okey for her, sharing dinner with Yori. Nakajima was silently observing the interaction between both.
“Oh, but he can stay for the pizza don’t?” y/n asked Bucky with pleading puppy eyes. Something about that look made him feel warm inside.
“Yes of course.” Barnes agreed with a little smile, that only Yori seemed to notice. Approving whatever kind of relationship these two had, with a knowing look.
“Mr. Nakajima, what kind of pizza do you like?”
 Mr. Nakajima liked the classic New York-style pizza and enjoyed the red wine, Barnes found in one of the mostly empty cupboards of his kitchen.
“James you are really in need of some furniture” Y/n commented from a wooden chair. Yori was comfortably seated on the little armchair, even though he struggled a little reaching for his wine glass on the floor. Meanwhile Bucky was standing near the counter.
“I never planned to have people over and I´m almost never at home, so what´s the point of buying furniture”
“I live alone, but at least I have a table to sit on” Yori added while he balanced the plate on his knees reaching for the glass on the ground.
“Yeah, where do you eat usually? On the floor?” Y/n teased him grinning, before she took a bite of her pizza. Barnes shifted his weight on the left side, uncomfortable with all the questions.
“I never eat at home, cooking for myself isn´t worth it and if I order something I just sit on the floor or in the armchair” Bucky justified his meager living, shrugging and nodding towards Yori. Who just shook his head, amused, about the poor argument. This drew y/n attention to him.
“Mr. Nakajima you said you lived alone. Do you not have any family? Children?” She asked curiously. Regretting once again talking so thoughtlessly, as Yori´s face turned expressionless. Scared of breaking the silence. Y/n looked up to Bucky for help. But he was starring down at his pizza, lost in his own thoughts, which didn´t seem to be pleasant either. “I´m sorry if I did say something wrong. I didn´t know…” Nakajima took a deep breath, so she interrupted herself.
“It´s fine, as you said, you didn´t know. My wife died many years ago giving birth to my firstborn son.” Yori started talking calmly. “My son died a few years ago in a shooting. Since then, I´m alone. James moved here some months ago and spends some time with me. A girl, from the sushi restaurant around the corner, also keeps an eye on me, but that´s it.”
It took a while and an empty wine bottle to restore the relaxed atmosphere. The day ended with a more or less intense card game. After Bucky brought the mattress from Yori´s apartment to his empty livingroom. 
All rights reserved.
Ps. Yeah, i broke my own heart with the dinner scene
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morepeachyogurt · 3 years
Text
we are good people (and we've suffered enough)
word count- 2.5k      Pairing- Temily
Summary- After Scratch, Tara and Emily run away to Italy to start a new life, ft. cats, cafes, and gardening. Based on this post, and this prompt. 
Part 2 of my, maybe we’re from the same star, series, work is a standalone, part 1
read here on ao3
tw’s- very minor mentions of substances and ptsd
Things were never the same after Mr. Scratch. The two of them were filled with more trauma than they had room for in their hearts to still hold each other in. Nights were no longer filled with a movie and cuddling, or talking about philosophy but tense sentences, paranoia, and nightmares. Tara knew that something needed to change, anything to stop the monotony of desolation. But still, they went to work every day and drowned their sorrows in killers like that would bring back the part of her that died when Scratch took Emily. There are only so many times one can be held captive and wait for death before something inside them breaks.
One night they get wine drunk, Emily laying sidewise on their black couch, and Tara sitting on the table staring at the ceiling.
“I miss being young, god, that’s such a weird thing to say. I mean, I spent my youth hating it. Hated my mother, and all of our traveling, never could make friends. I hated that I never belonged, hated not being in control of my own life, and here I am 50 years old working for the government that I used to despise trying not to cry myself to sleep every night,” her voice takes on a bitter tone.
“We love in our old age the things we hated as children. Does that make us matured or foolish?”
“Both, I think.”
“What was your favorite place to live? I mean it sounds like hell to keep moving between places but there must have been someplace you loved, right,” Tara’s voice fills with a tang of desperation as she searches for a way to help her lover.
“Rome. The weather and the scenery,” her voice takes on a dreamy tone, “and the food! Man, the food is good, don’t tell Rossi but his carbonara tastes like Olive Garden compared to the real thing,” they both chuckled at that, knowing it would have sent Rossi in a fit if he were to hear that.
“That sounds really nice honey.”
“I miss it sometimes you know? I think about how gorgeous everything was. It feels like home in my distant memories.”
“Then let’s do it. Lets, go move to Rome. You aren’t happy here Emily, I know you say you are, but you do this job for our team, not the position now. I miss when you laughed,” both of them sobered up by now, knowing that it has taken a turn for the more serious.
“No, no we can’t. I, I can’t keep leaving this team and our friends. And, people need us. You love this job Tara I can’t take that away from you, not for me.”
“They’d understand Emily, they all love you so much. Yeah, I love this job, I won’t lie. But, I love you more, and I’m not happy if you aren’t. So let’s do it. Let’s fucking run away to Rome together and be happy .” The two sit in silence for a minute, the unanswered question still hanging in the air.
“Okay. Let’s do it. Maybe I’ll fulfill my long-lost dream to have a nice, big garden.”
The team took it surprisingly well, they’d all noticed a change in Emily in the months following Scratch and knew that Tara had Emily’s best interest at heart. Of course, they were sad to lose two of the best members of their team, but Emily was family, and family looks out for each other.
“I’m going to miss you my favorite dynamic duo and your guys’ jokes. Ugh, it’s going to be so quiet without you two lovely ladies,” her eyes are welling with unshed tears as she says goodbye to more of her family, “Send me things from Rome or I will install a virus in your phones,” they both laughed at Penelope’s antics and promised her that they’d send as much stuff as they could. The last two weeks of their stay in the United States were filled with mixed emotions. They were excited to start the next chapter of their lives together. Away from all the serial killers and monstrous people out there. They could finally live with a fraction of the naivety that most people carry. On the other hand, Tara only speaks minimal Italian, and now they’re going to be living in a brand-new country, surrounded by strangers. A fresh start, but one filled with anxiety.
“Okay 4:30 is way too early for a flight,” Emily grumbled as they made their way to the airport. The pair had woken up at three, knowing that Tara can’t sleep on planes they tried to go to bed early and were now making their way to the airport in the dead of morning.
“Wait, babe, look! It’s a full moon,” they pulled over just for a moment and got out of the car to sit on the hood. The silence between the two is peaceful, the wind was the only whisper in the air. Moonlight shone on Tara’s face and Emily knew that there was no sight in the world as beautiful as this. With the moon reflected in her eyes and a small simple ghosting on her lips. She’s home.
Security was a breeze, they are former FBI agents after all, and they made their way to their gate. Airports always have a certain air to them, a place where time seizes to exist yet completely runs the place. Their gate was quiet, filled with the tired murmuring of people excited to travel.
“Tara, honey, wake up we’re boarding.”
It was odd for the two of them to be flying commercial after all those years on private jets. It was nice to feel normal though, to fade in the background instead of being other . Human desire is both to be noticed and forgotten all at once.
Italy’s airport is very similar to the DC airport, it would seem like they never left. Outside was a whole different story, bustling crowds and hot air hits them as soon as they step outside the building. They had picked out a quaint apartment building a week prior. Yellow walls with a terrace looking out to an alley. The couple's belongings had been shipped and were waiting to be unpacked. Not right then though. Now, it was time to explore.
Hand in hand they walked leisurely down the narrow alley way of the small Italian town they are now calling their home. Vines and every other type of plant that could grow did. Hanging off banisters, and climbing up orange brick walls. The sunlight was close to blinding, and it hit Emily just right. The golden rays hitting her face and illuminating the ghost of the smile now appearing on Emily’s face. That smile told Tara all she needed to know about their decision. Emily catches her staring, “What are you looking at,” humor evident in her voice.
“You, I’m looking at you miss Emily Prentiss. You’re smiling again,” her words come out softer than she intended, but they convey her point.
Happy couples seem to fill the streets, old and new, young and old. The town may be old, but it was filled with a life that they had been lacking. They pass a quaint little bakery. Bread, cupcakes, and assorted pastries fill the windows. There're bookshelves on all the walls filled to the brim with different books. The walls are light blue and there are flowers everywhere. It looks like something from the movies.
“Un Piccolo Angolo di Paradiso,” Emily reads the name of the building in front of them, they’ve since stopped to admire the view in front of them. It reminds the two of them how Emily asked Tara out. With a cupcake and book who had ‘I know there’s plenty of sugar in that cupcake but it’d be even sweeter if you went out with me. Let me take you to dinner Tara? ’ written on the inside.
“As much as I love hearing you speak Italian, what does that mean? Something heaven?”
“Little Slice of Heaven.” It’s truly a perfect name for the place.
“Okay, now we have to go in,” they’re both smiling now. They push open the glass doors, greeted by the high-pitched ringing of a bell and the smell of freshly baked bread.
The woman at the counter finishes the greeting, “Benvenuti nel piccolo angolo di paradiso, cosa posso offrirvi, adorabili signore?” they blush at the compliment and Emily orders them both cupcakes and coffee. Tara busies herself with admiring the books. Some of them have the most beautiful covers she’s seen. She knows not to judge a book by its cover but sometimes the most beautiful things are just as gorgeous on the inside as out. Just like Emily. She buys a book, and they take their drink and desserts to go. They make their way to a waterfront and sit down on the stairs, side by side.
“Rome is just as beautiful as I remembered. I missed it. It really does feel like home, although, anywhere I’m with you is home,” at the end of her sentence, she turns to face Tara, a look of pure love shown clearly on her face. And for that, Tara just has to kiss her.
The next day they unpack their boxes of belongings into their apartment to help rid the homesickness. Paintings go up on the walls and furniture is placed with the best view in mind. After a couple of hours they’re done, their apartment a bit more homey than before. They crack open a bottle of wine, put on an album, and sit out on the terrace. They watch the sun set over the water, the sounds of big band music filter in as the soundtrack for their night. The sky painted yellow, orange, and pink in the way only nature can create. If nature were an artist they’d be in every museum and sold to the wealthy. Instead, they are for the masses, the beauty of nature is for all to enjoy, free of cost, for those who wish to escape and fly into the night sky.
“You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” Tara leans forward on the balcony, not taking her eyes off the view in front of her, even as the colors begin to fade the sky darkens.
“No, tell me, what?”
“I always wanted to open my own bakery. I know it’s stupid, me a baker. But, I don’t know making things, it feels so uncomplicated. Just me and the dough.”
“In this alternate universe, I’d be a gardener. You and your dough and me and my flowers against the world Tara. Wait a second. I think you and I are onto something my dear,” Emily’s joined Tara at the balcony, the two of them leaning against the railing.
“Actually? You’re serious? You want to do this.?”
“Yeah! Why not? We’ve got enough money in the bank for us to last a bit, you can work at Un Piccolo Angolo di Paradiso,” the Italian rolls of her tongue in a way that drives Tara nuts, “I’ll find a gardening place to work at. We’re in fucking Italy let’s make our dreams come true.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
Alessia, the owner of the bakery, is pleased to have another employee. Especially one that is actually interested and isn’t in high school. Tara learns the basics of bread and pastry making. She has some skill, she used to bake with her mother before she died, it had been awhile since she had been able to bake without bumming herself out. Now it’s a nice memory of her. Gone but not forgotten, as is the saying. Emily comes in every lunch break for whatever Tara’s whipped up and to get her caffeine fix. One of the things that she still keeps from her law enforcement days.
They aren’t perfect. A move across the country isn’t going to cure PTSD, she has good days, bad days, and worse days, but now they have the time to deal with it. There was never anytime to process things at the FBI. It was always, distract yourself and throw yourself into solving cases. Now they can slow dance in the kitchen and stay up until three am telling stories from college. They fill their days with the happiness that was once stolen from them and bathe in it like perfume.
True to their word, they send Penelope all sorts of things, books from the café, pressed flowers, trinkets from the small shops to adorn her desk. In return, she sends them pictures of Sergio.
“I miss Sergio, his little paws, and his ability to climb on top of anything.”
Emily finds a job at a nearby garden that sells flower arrangements and herbs to local restaurants. It’s convenient, more than they would have thought. Emily now gets to stop into the bakery on occasion to deliver herbs and has plenty of flowers to give her lover. She also sends a few bouquets back to DC. Hoping that the flowers can brighten up the office in a way that fluorescent lights never can.
On one of their late afternoon walks, they hear a rustling by a trash can.
“What’s that noise?”
“I don’t know, let’s go look, it almost sounds like an animal. Could be a mouse,” Emily suggests, absently reaching to where her gun used to rest on her hip. They open the bag to find three small kittens. Seemly abandoned in a corner.
“Oh god, they’re so cute. We have to keep them.” It’s not a question, Tara knows that Emily is thinking the same thing, their minds connected in the way people who love each other’s minds always are. They look up the nearest veterinarian to make sure that their new pets are okay to take home and healthy.
The vet is sterile and a stark reminder of all the hospitals they’ve spent time in. Tara squeezes her girlfriend’s hand to remind her that they are both safe .
“They look fairly health, a bit malnourished but that is to be expected in these circumstances,” the vet is an elderly man with a mustache as thick as his accent,
“I’ve give them the shots they need, for now, come back in few months and let me take another look. Ciao.”
The kittens are fast asleep by the time they make it home. They gently scoop the kittens out of the bag and into their arms and the couch.
“Okay, what are we naming these angels?” Emily’s voice is pitched up as she talks to the kitten in her arms.
“Well, I’ve always been a classics enthusiast, what if we name them Artemis and Apollo?”
“That’s adorable. Little tiny archery kitties, yes, isn’t that right!” she coos, “And I think I’ll name this one Carter.”
“I love it, and you. Come on, sit with me, you look tired,” Tara grabs Emily’s hand and pulls her onto the couch. They fall over a bit and Emily yelps in surprise. They put the old music back on, a sense of peaceful needs for their new lives. The two sit on the couch, Emily’s head in her girlfriend’s lap, a hand playing with her hair. Apollo climbs on Emily’s feet and lays down to rest.
“I love you, Tara,” she doesn’t respond, just lays a gentle kiss to the back of her head.
The world is big and scary but the two of them feel safe in each other's arms.
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live-laugh-lenney · 3 years
Text
The One Where YN Meets Will.
Hello, hi!
I’m Emily, I’ve had this blog for a few months now and I’m not sure what I want to do with it, apart from reblog gifs of Will and catch up on all things Youtube and the Eboys and the Sidemen and all that. Thought about giving writing a go, since I’ve done some before on another blog for another fandom, and this came from my brain as an attempt at writing for WillNE.
I am willing to take requests or write anything that anyone wants me to write about, if anyone would like one written for a specific idea.
Hope you like it. x
A consistent buzz came beside her.
Rumbling on top of her bedside table, her phone laid overturned and ringing with an incoming call from someone, charging on the thick Stephen King book that she was halfway through reading, ripples rolling over the surface of the water in the tall glass placed next to it, that she took to bed with her the previous night. She glanced at the salt lamp, small and jagged-looking and emitting a dull orange glow behind the sunlight that streamed through her windows, and gave herself a tut for leaving it on overnight; she couldn’t remember leaving it on although she couldn’t help but give a mental clap at how truthful the benefits of having a Himilayan salt lamp had been.
‘MUM’
The three letter word flashed at her in bold text, above a candid photo that someone had taken of her and her mum in a heart-to-heart chat in the middle of a family barbecue that had taken a turn once her father had found the alcohol stash in the garage and turned a casual family get-together into a night where everyone stumbled over the front doorstep on their way out. A heart-to-heart conversation that had them both smiling brightly at one another.
“Mum, hi.”
“Hi, darling.” Her voice sounded so soft, so sweet, inviting and warm and YN missed her more than anything; if she had anything to say about moving miles away, she would always give the advice of making sure distance was something you could handle. “You sound tired, did I wake you? I thought you’d be on your way to work by now.”
YN looked at the red numbers on the screen of her alarm clock, reading 7:45, and she had a tiny freak-out for a brief moment before she came to the realisation that it was her day off and she wasn’t due into work until after the weekend had finished.
“You did, yeah. I’m not due at work today though. They gave me the day off since my boss’ schedule is just meetings out of town today. He’s up North for conferences and such and it was late notice for me so he didn’t mind me not accompanying him. I wouldn’t have been able to do much anyway,” YN clarified and she used her free hand to push herself up from the mattress. Her hair was knotted and pillow-messed, sticking up in all directions and falling loose from the ponytail she’d thrown it up in before she fell asleep. Her t-shirt twisted around her middle which she adjusted with her fingers, bringing her knees to her chest and staring out the window as the sun continued its rise in the horizon. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, don’t fuss about me,” she heard her mother tut from down the line. But YN couldn’t help but fuss over the two of them; if she lived closer to them, she wouldn’t worry so much because they’d be just a short distance away if they needed her help. But she didn’t live close and she hadn’t done for almost two years; she lived almost 300 miles northeast of where she used to live with her parents and it wouldn’t take her more than twenty minutes to tend to their needs. “We’re both fine, stop worrying yourself, darling. Your dad’s been back doing his gardening so he’s out there already. Watering his flowers, spraying fertiliser, cleaning all the fox poo up. He’s been growing some veggies in the plot next to the greenhouse so you can take some back when you next come to visit.”
YN smiled to herself, bringing her shoulders to her jawline before dropping them and relaxing against her headboard. The back of her head resting against the plush velvet, coloured a clean white, and her toes curled into the sheet beneath her, her fist clutching the duvet as she brought it tighter to her body.
“You can always send me some in a box? Or you could come and visit and drop them off yourself? You know I’ve got the spare room in the new place if you want to come up for a weekend. It’s vacant, just full of my empty moving boxes and bags that I haven’t gotten rid of yet,” YN said, a yawn creeping up her throat that she hid with the palm of her hand, “I need dad’s handyman work to come and help put some shelves up. You’ve not seen it yet.”
“Your dad said it’s a lovely flat. Lovely view. Lovely building. But, you know what he’s like when it comes to describing things. Everything’s lovely,” her mother snorted and YN laughed softly; her father had always been vague and she’s pretty sure that she’d never heard him use any other word to describe something other than ‘lovely’. “We’ve been talking about paying you a visit.”
“Please do. It’s a little lonely here by myself. I’m yet to meet new friends or have a chat with the neighbours. Everyone’s either back in Cornwall or back in Hackney and both are a hefty distance away.”
YN had never considered herself as an introvert so to call herself lonely felt strange.
She was always the friend who asked for the bill, she was the friend who made the complaint in a restaurant when a plate of food came back wrong, she was the friend who made advances on blokes in pubs and clubs because her friends were too shy to go and introduce themselves and she was the friend who always carried the responsibility of making polite conversation with people in pubs when they needed a table to perch themselves at. She was that friend. So making friends with strangers and starting conversations with her co-workers and approaching others who she found had kind features was never something she struggled with.
Moving to a new place and having to make new relationships and form new bonds, regardless of how far it was from the bonds and relationships you already had, she found it daunting to start fresh.  
“What are you doing today?”
“I’m not sure. The weather is really nice and it looks warm out so I might go and explore Canary Wharf and see what’s around. I need to do some shopping, food and furniture, so I might do some of that,” YN rolled onto her side and let her cheek rest against the cold side of her mattress, the backs of her thighs exposed to the cool air of her bedroom as her t-shirt rose up her body; and she made a mental note to buy herself so proper pyjamas because knickers and an oversized t-shirt could cause more problems than expected. “We’ve got a lovely grass area outside the block of flats so I might sit out there, soak up the sunshine, read a book and eat some lunch. I don’t know. Might see how the day goes, I have a good feeling about it.”
“Go exploring. You can find some places to show us when we come to visit,” and YN smiled.
“I’ll do that. You’ll love it mum. This place is amazing. I feel so lucky to have been given something as beautiful as this. I had a crack den for my first flat so this feels like a dream,” she stared at her ceiling. There was no yellow tint from how the previous tenants smoked inside and there were no unusually coloured stains on the ceiling’s coving that caught the eye because of how a stain of that colour shouldn’t have been there, leaving the mystery of just how it got there… and YN didn’t need that kind of stress over something like that. “It doesn’t smell like pee, there’s no syringes outside and there’s no sign of vomit or shit stains on the floor because it’s all laminate.”
“You deserve it, darling. You really do.”
“It’s clean, mum. It came clean, it smells clean, it looks clean. Everything looks brand new and,” YN pauses for a moment, rolling onto her stomach and she sighs with content, “I love it.”
*
After hanging up, she contemplated getting up and getting dressed for the day.
It felt rather tempting to stay in her comfortable loungewear and enjoy the silence, the time to herself and the time off she had been after for so long, taking advantage of Deliveroo and ordering food for breakfast, lunch and dinner rather than cooking something homemade and having the leftovers the next day (or for when she woke up in the early hours with a hankering for something to nibble on, because she could, because she didn’t have an authority figure to tell her no).
By the time her phone call ended with her mother, it was a little over forty-five minutes later and her alarm clock showed a time that she didn’t want to see on her day off; 8:35am. She expected another hour or two added on to her usual sleep schedule, to make a difference to the usual 6am alarm call that had her detesting her job just a tiny bit, but it wasn’t frowned upon because she’d take any given opportunity to speak to her mother. The one person she called her best friend because she really was the only person, apart from her father, that she’d drop anything and everything important for. Her sleep didn’t matter when she got to her the voice of someone she missed so dearly.
Porridge and fruit, a colourful array of strawberries and blueberries and bananas and cranberries in her bowl, and a warm cup of tea had been her breakfast as she caught up with the lifestyle Youtube channel she had been in the loop with. A Youtube channel that she had been a big fan of from the moment she moved to London, one who she turned to in times of need, one that she stumbled across when googling aesthetically pleasing ways to decorate a flat because she really needed to do something about how her Hackney flat had looked before a lick of paint and a hanging plant, one that she continued to view and like and followed tips from, even when it came to her new flat.
“Don’t be afraid to like monochrome and definitely don’t be afraid to follow a colour scheme that might seem ‘out there’ and in your face. If you like lime green then go paint a portion of your wall that colour. If you like the brightest shade of pink then go mad and add some colour to your life. You can never feel more organised than when your surroundings follow a consistent pattern that brings immense amounts of joy when you enter.”
The young girl on her screen, with space-buns either side of her head and an outfit that definitely came from a trendy thrift store clothes rail, sat before a wall of a delicious shade of peach that YN thought looked lovely; not for herself, because she’d stuck with the whites and the greys and the blacks that her flat already consisted of, but perfect for the young twenty-something year old.
“There are loads of websites where you can buy hanging plants, or artificial hanging baskets, and hanging canvas prints and wall art. I’m always looking for new things to buy so I’ll link some of my favourite online stores for you to check out; hit my Instagram mentions up with photos of things you’ve brought, too. That’s what I love to see.”
YN’s spoon clinked against the ceramic bowl in front of her as she pushed it away from her, reaching for her television remote and turning off her Youtube app, her television turning off completely and leaving a black screen behind. The flat falling silent. She looked around her, drumming her fingers against the tabletop, eyes squinting as the sunlight streamed through the wall-to-ceiling windows and made everything feel bright..
As much as she warmed to the idea of staying inside and ordering furniture and decor for her home, scrolling through online stores to buy something she thought she needed but really didn’t need, she had a good feeling about the upcoming day.
*
“Listen, love, I’m not sure if you could tell but I’m not exactly a people person. I don’t know you, don’t want to know you, have no plans to get to know you. You might live in the building but that doesn’t mean we need to be friendly.”
He spoke with such vigour in his voice that YN could only keep quiet so as to not entice a negative reaction out of him in such a confined space because confrontation was something she was never comfortable with. Sure, she’d endured confrontation before but that was from people she had been acquainted with, the ones she was friends with, people she saw on a daily basis and from people she worked with, from those who were supposed to confront her when something was wrong or hadn’t been down in a way it was supposed to be done; her boss, mainly. This man was a complete stranger, someone she didn’t know,someone she’d never seen before so instant regret filled her veins. She thought he looked friendly enough to start a quick conversation, to make the lift ride seem a little less boring, filling the empty space with general chit-chat.
Cowering away from him and almost closing in on herself, even though his attention stayed focused on the screen of his phone as he scrolled through a social media app, she thought he’d finished with her and she hadn’t expected him to perk up anymore.
“Not everyone likes to chat to strangers.”
“Well, I like chatting to strangers so don’t mind him,” a quirky Geordie accent perked up from behind her, her posture adjusting at the sudden appearance of someone behind her; she’s sure she didn’t see anyone else in the lift, apart from the towering bloke beside her, when she stepped into the lift but, then again, he was tucked away in the corner with a cap on his head and she had been looking at the floor as she entered because a mark on her white shoe had caught her attention. “Come chat to me, if you want. Promise I won’t bite your head off like matey-boy there.”
Her trainers squeaked on the floor as she spun around, eyes raking up and down his figure so she could get a good look at who the voice belonged to, almost staking him out in a way. He was a handsome chap, with brown hair sticking out from beneath a black cap upon his head that he’d pulled quite far down his forehead, a cheeky grin on his face that made the mood in the lift much brighter. There was a graphic print printed on the front of the black hoodie he had decided to throw on, the commonly-known Adidas stripes lining the length of his joggers, trainers on his feet with the laces loose and almost untying by themselves (clumsy, she assumed he was, because there’s no way he wouldn’t trip over them as soon as they loosened completely).
“I’m Will. Will Lenney.”
“I’m YN.”
“Do I get your surname? S’only fair since I told you mine.”
She laughed softly and replied with her surname, a look of appreciation on his features as he held his hand out for her to take, which she gladly shook with her own. Skin so soft, fingers so delicate, with a hold so strong that she couldn’t find herself letting go. She didn’t want to let go. This was the first contact she’d had with someone new, in a month of being new to the area, and it just so happened to be with someone she found rather attractive to the eye.
The bloke from before, who had tore down her attempts at being the friendly neighbour who he would, no doubt, see quite often, couldn’t help but let out the strongest sigh of annoyance. A sound that brought them back to reality, hands falling from their hold, dropping back down to their sides with a faint rosy-look on their cheeks that didn’t come from how warm it was. A sound that made the both of them turn their noses up, that made them their eyebrows scrunch on their browlines and made them want to really throw words at him until he gained some manners. Yet they ignored him because he wasn’t worth the time.
“You’re new here, aren’t you? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” he started, adjusting the backpack on his shoulder that had slipped with the movement of his arm falling down to his side. His fingertips and right down to the middle of his palm still felt heavy with the thought of her hand still in his. “I’d remember such a beautiful face.”
The heat already on her cheeks reached boiling and she knew her flushed look caught his attention. His smile turning into a grin which had her looking at her feet, shyly. A handsome lad with a sense of immense charm about him; she liked him and it wasn’t typical of her to form an attraction at such an early stage.
“Yeah, I moved in about a month ago. Floor 10, right at the end of the corridor. A proper upgrade from where I used to be located but thanks to my work, they moved me from my previous office block to my current office block in Canary Wharf and said they’d move me closer if necessary,” she thought she was rambling and she expected a look of faint annoyance on his features that would silently tell her to shut up. She picked at the loose string hanging from the hem of her t-shirt and twirled it around her finger, looking up from her feet and seeing a look of intense concentration on his face, enticing her to carry on. “The move was necessary. Completely necessary. It wasn’t a nice place where I was before, it was the first thing I saw on the website and I was desperate for somewhere to live. If I stayed there, I would be half an hour away otherwise.”
Canary Wharf.
It was a complete upgrade from the streets of Hackney and the dingy flat she had become so accustomed to for a little less than a year; the smell of weed and tobacco would fill the corridors and hit her in the face when she left her front door, the lights were always dim and flickered and the lifts were rickety and untrustworthy, discarded bikes and scooters and old prams and baby-carriers littered the space between one end of the hallway to the other, suspicious figures dressed in black hoodies and grey joggers always greeted her with stone-cold faces and squared-up jaws. An attempt, she guessed, to look like they were the typical hardnuts of the complex and that they weren’t to be messed with, even if it was just a polite ‘excuse me’ to pass them by and to be out of their hair within a moment.
It wasn’t all bad, regardless. Her neighbours were sweethearts, they always said hello and invited her in for cups of tea and a slice of cake after she finished work, most people were kind and warm and had their own back stories as to why they chose such a place to live - she could only imagine that the building was a nice place to live, with residents who took care of themselves and the place they lived in, before London gangs took over and were on the high of increasing and before drug dealers became more frequent on the streets - and her life, thank god,  was never bothered. No one intervened, no one found her life to be their business to spread and life felt normal; she had a home, somewhere to live, somewhere to sleep and eat and shower and feel warm and cosy in a bed. Even if it wasn’t as nice as she had wanted it to be, she had somewhere.
Her new flat was almost dream-like if you compared it to what she lived in before. It made her Hackney flat look like a pit; a drug-den, if you will. She could wake up to pure sunshine filtering through double-glazed windows and there was no chance that she would be rudely woken up in the middle of the night from the ghoulish moans of the wind getting trapped between cracked window panes or the drunken yells of people stumbling down the hallways back to their homes. She could walk to her new place of work rather than hop on public transport and she could take the time to explore a side of London she never had the chance to see. Her floor was laminated wood, heated when the nights were cold, and there were no stains of garishly and disgusting colours of god-knows-what from previous tenants who had lived there. The view was beautiful, she could see right to the end of the horizon, and the scenes she was greeted with on her arrival home were almost picturesque… except pictures could never do it justice.
She’d been there for a month.
A whole four weeks.
And she could already feel improvements in her lifestyle that weren’t so bold before. She woke up happier and didn’t feel the need to stay in bed for a lie-in, she felt happier during the day and had a bob in her step that brought light to her office block, she felt safe when she walked out the reception and into the open space by the entrance and didn’t feel like she would be jumped by hiding predators if she arrived home late at night. She was friendly with her neighbours, always popped round to give them any post that had been posted through her mailbox by accident or if deliveries were left with them when she’d been at work and always started a conversation with them when they stood waiting for the lift to arrive on their floor.
“Oh, nice. What is it-”
The ding of the lift stopped Will mid-sentence, silenced them and halted their conversation as the doors opened to reveal the reception floor, empty and desolate from people. It was mid-morning, almost lunchtime, so YN had assumed most were working or out in the streets of London to enjoy the sunshine; the latter being what she had planned to do.
The man from the lift, who had tucked himself in the corner and stuck earphones in to block out their conversation, made sure he was the first one out and disappeared before YN could give him a sarcastic goodbye, not that he would have heard her anyway so she settled with a wave, a really exaggerated and over-the-top wiggle of her fingers, and hoped he saw it in the reflection of the window as he left and disappeared into the mass of people walking by their block of apartments.
“You’re a right character, you,” Will admitted, nudging her with his elbow and smirking at her, “what is it you do, job-wise? That’s what I wanted to ask.”
“I’m a PA for a CEO at an advertising company. A personal assistant who runs and gets coffee for everyone, gets lunch during her lunch-break, who organises meetings and creates schedules and gets the big boss what he wants when he wants it,” she clarified, “it’s not exactly the best job and I wish I was doing something I wanted to do but it pays well. For now, it’s enough to get me by and keep this place.”
They started walking toward the automatic doors of the entrance, feeling the cool air of the shade on their exposed skin that definitely disappeared as soon as the sunshine hit them, coming to a stop just by a brick wall. Young children were running around with their parents walking behind, cyclists were dinging bells to pass through large groups and groups of university students were huddled on the grass, eating lunches they’d brought from restaurants on their way, backpacks discarded and being used as pillows as they laughed and joked. Tourists were taking photos and posing to show off where they’d been and what they got up to when it came to showing their friends back home and businessmen and businesswomen were almost speed-walking to get back to their offices in time with a styrofoam takeaway lunch in their hands.
“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I? Just tell me to piss off if I am.”
“No, no. Don’t be silly. I’m only popping round the corner to see my mate. He won’t mind if I’m late,” he said, perching down on the brick wall and patting the space beside him. The legs of his ankles rose up to show the white ankle socks he’d paired with his trainers., “What is it you want to do as a job? Just, the way you talk about your job now makes it sound like you don’t like it.”
“I do like it there. But I don’t want to be a personal assistant, running round London to get coffee and sandwiches, for the rest of my life. I’ve always dabbled in blogging, taking photos, talking about nonsense and stuff. Posting videos and vlogging, too. I’ve tried it out as something fun, documenting holidays and stuff, and I’d love to do something with that and take it further but... I don’t know,” she sat down beside him, sliding her bag off of her shoulder and setting it on her lap, arm looped underneath the handles to keep it from spilling the contents inside, “I don’t want to be a social influencer but someone who does what she wants to do and gets by by just being herself. No companies to promote her or anything. Nothing to boost her. All her,” she stared off into the distance, tapping the heel of her foot against the concrete. Will nodded. “What do you do?”
“I, uh,” he scoffed out a laugh and rubbed the nape of his neck. His hat fell from his head and he decided to swap the shade of the cap to the sunglasses he had hanging from the neck of his hoodie, “funnily enough, I post videos on Youtube. I’m a Youtuber.”
Her head whipped round and she gawked at him. Eyes wide, mouth agape and her hand found his forearm, squeezing it tightly with excitement.
“You’re not?”
“I am, yeah. I was in university, didn’t like what I was studying, and I was told that if I really felt strongly about this Youtube malarky then I should pursue it to its possible potential and see where I end up. My mum’s words, not mine,” he snorted. He felt her hand loosen around his forearm and he watched her face become rigid as she came to the realisation of what she’d done. He dismissed it because he didn’t want to embarrass her but, really, he didn’t mind and he found it endearing.  “I’m not that big or popular or anything but I’ve got a couple million subscribe-”
“Not that big,” she mocked and rolled her eyes, “a couple million subscribers is huge. I’ll have to search you up. What’s your channel name?”
“WillNE. Like, Will then an N then an E. Like a-”
“Like a play on words with your surname,” she grinned as she proudly finished his sentence for him and he nodded, rather pleased with himself; and she had to give it to him, it was something special, unique and rather creative than some of the stand-out names she could think of from the platform. Some were really out there and had no relevance to who they were nor what they spoke about, some were vague and some were almost as bonkers as the people who came up with them. “That’s really cool. This is really cool. A famous Youtuber lives in my flat complex... I’m talking to a famous Youtuber right now... heck, I’ve managed to keep my cool around someone famous and I’m amazed I haven’t embarrassed myself. Wait till I tell my friends about this. They won’t believe me.”
“They’re not fangirls or anything, are they?”
“No, ha. If anyone’s the fangirl out of my friends then it’s me. I’ll find myself watching Youtube when I’ve got nothing else to do,” she admitted, “cooking dinner? I’ll stick someone on to watch. Can’t sleep? I’ll just binge watch someone until I’m tired. Day off and there’s nothing to do? I’ll find a channel and just let it go from there.”
“Maybe I’ll pop up on there one day. I’ll help cure your boredom,” Will grinned, “then you can say ‘hey, that’s one of my mates there on my telly, that is’.”
A comfortable silence swallowed the both of them as they sat and let the seconds tick by. The tweets of the birds came from above, distant chatter came from the students lounging on the grass behind, scuffs of soles signified people were walking and jogging nearby and despite the feeling of time coming to end between the two of them, neither of them wanted to leave the other, neither wanted to bring the conversation to an end and neither of them wanted to part ways.
“So, we’re mates, huh?”
“Yeah, I reckon so,” Will smiled. Eyes locking with hers for a brief second, long enough to catch the twinkle in her eye and the genuine smile that lifted up her lips, “you’re a good’un. I like you. I think we’ll get along really bloody well, me and you.”
*
(WILL’S TEXTS. YN’S TEXTS.)
Filming a video tomorrow. Fancy coming by?
Won’t I get in the way?
Bollocks will you. Come along. Please. You can see firsthand how to make a Youtube video since you said you’ve always thought about it.
Where?
Only at my place. A TWOTI.
This Week On The Internet… nice one. I’ll be there.
You’ve done your research on me!
Spent all day googling you. As soon as you walked away, I started my research and I cut my day short so I could come home and watch your videos. Just call me a superfan now.
Superfan, ha.
I’ll have to test you. Could get you in a video to see if you’re my biggest fan.
Try me. I’ll get full marks. Your subscribers will look like phonies compared to me, hahaha.
You might have to sit off camera, out of shot, tomorrow. If I don’t finish everything by the time you get here, that is. No distractions. No pulling faces behind the camera.
I’ll be on my best behaviour. I’ll fangirl at the door, drop my Twitter handle into conversation, ask for a signature and a photo and then I’ll be fine.
I’m not going to regret this, am I?
You won’t hear a peep out of me. Promise.
Come by after lunch then. We can get some takeaway for lunch or something, if you don’t eat before, and I’ll have some bits filmed by the time you get here so you won’t have to sit in silence for too long.
Make it 1pm and it’s a deal.
Why 1pm?
It’s Saturday tomorrow. I don’t get up before noon on the weekends. Not even for you, mister big-shot Youtuber. ;)
And here I was, thinking you would throw your routine away for your new best mate.
Nice try.. see you tomorrow, William.
Ohh, serious. Full name and all. I see how it is, YN.
Goodnight, you muppet.
See you tomorrow. x
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seekingseven · 3 years
Note
Hello Seeking! For a drabble request: I would love to see you write some beautiful friendship with Legend & Ravio! bonus if Warriors is there too :D
Linked Universe Prompt Requests #7!
Thanks for the awesome prompt! I'm always down to write some platonic shenanigans. Enjoy this first-person minific!
(You can also read the fic here on Ao3!)
~~~~~~
It's twenty minutes to opening time, but I've already swept the floors and opened the door. The window blinds are pulled to the side—sunlight makes the merchandise look better, I've learned—but now there are bugs crawling over the sill and leaving smears on the white paint. Sheerow picks them off. I feel a little bad about it, letting Sheerow eat the bugs instead of an actual breakfast, that is, but I think he'd prefer them over green onion omelets.
I take a seat at the table and twirl a fork between my fingers. He eats, and so do I, and there's only the sound of clicks and clunks and clinks. Dust motes fizz through the air. From across the room, I notice that the masks hanging from the wall are misaligned. White fuzz from the duster curl atop their wooden faces, and I grunt to myself. Sheerow glares at me as I stand up to brush the must off. He wants me to finish first, I’m sure.
I sneeze. It sounds aggressive, and Sheerow turns his attention back to his bugs. We talk like this, in sneezes and clicks and the occasional scratch. Mr. Hero says it's off-putting. I don't say anything, because Sheerow doesn't speak Hylian, and I don't want him to feel left out.
The masks squeak as I pinch them between my palms. Left, right, left; I never had a good sense of askew or aligned. I take a step back. It still looks crooked. Sheerow squeaks from the window, and I squeak back. He's still hungry, I know, but it doesn't look professional to be fixing merchandise when there are customers in the store, so say I'll make him breakfast once the customers come in and the wall doesn't look so slanted.
Tile creeks as I step back again. I sigh, give up, wipe the slip of sweat at the back of my neck and dry it off on my apron. My apron! I need to change into my uniform! The elemental rods on the wall bounce in their racks as I run across the store. My heels ache and my hair flops in front of my eyes. The doorknob whines as I pull it open and dart to the back room.
A purple tunic, brown boots, belt clasp. White gloves, I pull them on finger by finger, huffing as the cloth crumples and knots under the swift movements, and I stub my toe as I jam my feet in the boots. I hiss. From across the room, Sheerow makes a noise. I can't tell if he's laughing or asking if I'm okay.
I'm breathing through a curtain of hair by the time I get my belt clasp on. It sticks to my face, the hair, like licorice overcooked. I really need to get it cut. I won't, of course, because I'll forget as soon as I step back into the shop, but I tell myself that anyway. It makes me feel better. Pretending I won't forget, that is.
I pull the leather through the clasp, down to the last notch, and twist the overhang around three times so it doesn't fall off. There's not enough stuff in my size, not in Hyrule. Mr. Hero says it's because I'm XXS, I say it's because Hylians are too big. We always laugh about that. I smile to myself as I give the belt one shake, two; it's snug over my hip bones, so I leave it alone. I pull my apron off the floor and roll it between my hands—it's faster than folding it—and notice something on the windowsill. I look closer.
It's a book, green and leathery, and there's a big clasp between it's covers. A lock. I flip it over, see the gold stitching on the back. Air hisses through my teeth, and my eyebrows pull the skin of my eyelids up.
This isn't mine.
I toss the book under my arm, and, apron forgotten, dash out the door. Sheerow chitters after me, hopping away from my half-eaten breakfast (so he does like green onion omelets!), and flutters to my shoulder.
"We're heading after Mr. Hero," I say, breath short. With the back of my heel, I kick the shop door shut. Sheerow flips the "OPEN" sign over for me. A handful of villagers walking up the road give me an odd look—I would have felt bad if they were customers, but I know they aren't, so I give them a fake smile as I run along.
Immediately I regret tightening my belt so much. Something soft and moving presses against the strip of leather, and Sheerow picks anxiously at the knotted overhang. I wave him away with one hand, already sweating, and jerk my shoulder up until the book is snuggled safely under my arm. My back is wet. Sheerow's wings flap against the tips of my ears, and the floor blurs underfoot. My chest starts to feel fuzzy, and I stop for a minute to catch my breath. The blood running to my heart bulges into my head, and I pressed the back of my head to my cheek. It's hot—the air, my head, and my cheek. I groan. Sheerow pinches the sweatiest part of my shirt between his beak and flaps backward, allowing a wisp of breeze to slip in, and I thank him.
"We need to keep going," I insist, more to myself than to him. Slowly, I uncurl my spine from its hunch. Bones click as I pull my hips forward and grind my heels into the floor. There's a reason I don't play sports. "He's going to be very upset if he realizes he left this at the shop; we need to catch up to him before he makes it to that portal."
Sheerow twitters. Legs burning, I try and break back into a run. I ignore the head tilts and squinting eyes of passersbys. Usually, I wouldn't, but if I spent too long brooding on it I would get distracted, and then Mr. Hero would leave, and his adventure would be ruined when he realized what he forgot.
The stone underfoot turns to dirt, then to water as I splash through a brook. I could have hopped over it, the brook, that is, but the water feels good against my shins, and, anyway, if I turn up looking weather worn, maybe Mr. Hero would feel obligated to buy something from the shop.
There's chattering up ahead, baritone, and sweat drips into my smile.
"Almost there," I puff, trying to shake off the blades of grass sticking to my wet legs. I shift the book from one arm to another and comb a hand through my hair. Sheerow is circling my head. Curled breezes slide down my hair and neck, and I thank him again as I pick my way through the underbrush. Something bites me. I squeak. Sheerow bites it in retaliation as I swipe off the bead of red on my leg. I want to look rugged, but not that rugged.
The voices ahead grow louder as I pull closer. There's a flash of blue between the trees.
"Hey!" I cry. Sheerow lets out an avian equivalent of the greeting, and a face turns towards me. Pale, blond, blue-eyed; just like Mr. Hero's, but a little shapelier. I said the same during dinner last night; everyone laughed. Except Mr. Hero, of course. He kicked me under the table.
I'm pretty sure he thought it was funny, though.
"Oh, hey there, Ravio! Where did you come from?
"My house! Uh, is Mr. Hero ahead? He left something!"
The man glances backwards, then turns towards me. It's only when he's a few paces away that I realize how tall he is. What was his name, again? Captain? Warriors? I'll just call him sir; better to be safe than sorry.
"Legend already ran ahead, but if you want me to give him anything I can take it for you,” he says. “Want to hand it to me? Must be something important! You look a little bungled up. Is that cut on your arm okay?"
I glance at my arm. Something has torn at my sleeve, and there's red under the cut cloth. I groan. The other hero lets out a friendly laugh and extends his hand, repeating his earlier question.
"Oh!" I say. "I’m fine. And yes, it is very important, you're right! Here you go. Be careful with it. Don't lose it, yeah?"
He takes it, eyebrows furrowed, and lets it bounce lightly in one hand. The look in his eye is familiar.
"You don't know what it is?" I ask. The words sound a little more disbelieving than I meant them to.
"Well, not exactly. Your friend owns a lot of weird stuff, you know."
"That's, well, that's true. Uh, so, that's a coupon book. Very important. Don't lose it!"
The other hero flinched, muscles in his neck jerking back as he gave the book a hard look. "Coupon book?"
I open my mouth. Far away, a clock chimes ten. Sheerow gives me a panicked look. The shop!
"Coupon book!" I blabber, already turning to go. "Very important. He's going to lose his mind if he realizes that he doesn't have it with him. Anyway! I need to go. Bye!"
I turn quickly and run. Something snags my foot, but I stumble only a little before I'm out of sight. Or, at least, I think I am, because it takes Sheerow a minute to find me. Behind me, the other hero is calling, but I don't turn back. Sheerow chatters into my ear as we run along.
"I know, I know, but he would be so upset if he didn't have it. Anyway, business is slow in the morning. I think we'll be fine!"
Only the first part was true, but it didn't matter.
~~ Fine ~~ I hope you enjoyed! Thank you so much for reading! [Previous Request] - [Next Request]
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pbandjesse · 2 years
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Today was an excellent day. I had a good time. It was beautiful. I am feeling pretty good right now. Sitting in my studio and painting my nails. I hope I can sleep easy tonight.
I slept okay last night. I was in a weird mood this morning. I was snappy and kept being mean to James and I didn't know why I was just. On edge. I think because I was worried that the market would be canceled again. And I did eat anything. I was just in a weird spot and I couldn't get myself to stop it.
So I was upset with myself. We got to the market and the table we have been using was taken by someone else. I was unsettled!!! But we just got the table on the other end and it was fine. James would help set up. But it wasn't going well and I just had to ask them to go park the car and let me do it. They would go get us something to eat and once I ate I apologized and James said there was nothing to apologize for. I think I thought I was being meaner than I actually was. I was just mean in my head.
But it was an excellent day!! It was bright and beautiful. The other venders were really nice. I ended up buying myself a little stone bracelet. But I was good and did not buy anything else. I was worried no one would come and buy anything and I felt like I was playing catch up since we didn't sell yesterday.
But it ended up being great. Charolette came and bought something. I was really thankful for her coming down when its such a long trip. And it was just the first sale. Not only did a friend message me to buy one I had posted on Instagram, we sold so many!! We made double what we normally make. It was mostly plush but some of the prints sold too, including a framed print! So that was really cool. People were so nice and I just had an excellent time. Talking to people and explaining the process.
I also just enjoyed James's company. They talked me up and helped with every sale, writing out the certificates and keeping track of every sale. We talked about ideas for new animals and products. And it was just really nice.
I also got to work on a new print. I made probably the best dog I have ever drawn. I usually just don't even try because I am no good at them but this one came out so good!! And I think the print itself is going to be great if my test inking is anything to go by. I will try to pull a bunch of the new prints this week. James made me feel good when they said they like watching me work on them.
I had some nice chats with people who were selling and people who were buying. There was a lot of downtime but it was still a lot of fun and it was just a really nice day.
I had braided my hair today and I really liked how it looked and felt. I needed to wash it tonight so it was mostly because it felt dirty but it looked great. And I just liked my whole look today. I felt good about me.
As the sun started setting everyone started picking up and putting things away. In our feedback we will for sure say that it should be a 5 hour market, either in the morning or in the evening but its hard having it be so warm and then get so cold and dark. But it was still a really good market and I hope they have me back next year.
James went to get the car while I finished packing everything up. I got everything in the wagon and we walked it over to the car together. We said goodbye to everyone, it was lovely meeting them, and we headed to dinner.
I requested we go to Alexander's Tavern. We haven't been in forever and I really like the bread they used for their sandwiches. And we weren't far at all. So we went and found somewhere to park a little closer and had a really nice meal. We talked about wedding stuff. What needs to be done and things we are looking forward too. About Christmas. What the timeline looks like and where we will be and when. And the plan this week.
I am going to go hang out with Jess in PA tomorrow. And then we have a very busy week. With museum work and my booster and 2 holiday parties. I am looking forward to it but I am also dreading the stress.
It was a really good day. I just got out of the shower and I have moisturized skin and hair and painted nails and I am ready to go lay in bed. I am going to wake up early tomorrow to go hang out with Jess. I am going to stop at my parents for hugs first. I am looking forward to a nice day. I hope you all sleep well tonight. Take care of each other. Goodnight!
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sweeethinny · 3 years
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16 for the sentence starter pls :) only if u feel like it tho
I LOVE making family moments, maybe because I just love being with my family, and my best friends are my sibilings
and I clearly love boats
two people asked for #16 (this list) so I made the fluff for this one, I hope you like it <3 thank u for sending
#16:  “Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?”
"Do you think the moon is jealous of how beautiful you are?" Harry whispered in his wife's ear, kissing the tender spot behind her ear and then kissing on the mouth when Ginny turned away and captured his lips.
‘’You are the most romantic guy I know’’ She smiled beautifully as they parted, her hands still holding his face, as if to prolong the moment of euphoria
''I do my best'' He admitted turning her around, making them face each other ''Are you happy?’’ Her brown eyes shone in the light of the full moon, her freckles looking duplicated after several days in the sun, the wind beating with which her short hair was slightly tousled, but Harry never stopped finding her perfect.
‘‘Absolutely’’ Ginny wrapped her hands around his neck. Resting hands on Harry's neck, nails scraping his sensitive skin and making goosebumps ''I'm glad you and James are impulsive and have decided to buy a boat'' She looked around, the water reflecting gracefully clear the sky, some birds flying in search of a good dinner, the noise of the children laughing at something Teddy had done on the other side of the boat, while they tried, and failed, to catch a fish.
‘’You were not so happy when we told you’’ He recalled, laughing at the memory of Ginny and Albus saying that James and Harry were crazy about making the purchase;
‘’But mom, it’s beautiful!” The son said, showing the photo from the magazine and pointing ''And dad wanted to give your name to her'' Harry laughed at his attempt to make his mother go soft, looking at her piously ''Dad?’' James looked at him, kind of pleading while nodding at Albus and Ginny, still unconvinced
"Everyone will love it," Harry assured her, smiling at his daughter who looked super excited, snatching the magazine sheet from her mother's hands and looking hopeful. ‘’It will be good for travel, and it’s magically tuned to fit all Weasley’s, which is even better’’ James nodded, happy with that argument
''James was right, it's beautiful'' She sighed, laying her head on her husband's chest and feeling at home, even though they were at sea many miles away from the city. Harry would always be her home.
‘’No more than you’’ Ginny laughed, beating the man in the chest and looking at him with a frown
''Stop saying ready words, you know you're going to have me naked before you close the bedroom door'' This time it was Harry who laughed, looking over his shoulder towards the children to check if everyone was distracted before speaking something. As much as they were already 23,17,15 and 13 years old and, as Merlin protected them, Teddy and James had already made it clear that they knew what sex was (Albus never said anything, but Harry had given him the talk, so, his mind was calm. And Lily was Ginny's job.), they never liked it when their parents talked about it. Especially if it was about them having sex.
‘’But it’s never too much to reinforce. Having sex on a boat is totally different. Do you think we managed to sneak around like teenagers and have sex up here?'' Ginny shrugged, biting her red-painted lip as she watched the four children (they would always be, for them) argue over whether or not it was trickery to use magic to to fish
‘’We can lock them down until everything is ready’’ Harry smiled, happier than ever ‘’They will definitely sleep through the night anyway. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Albus swim so much in life’’ He nodded at the memory of his son betting who would go further with Lily, who narrowly won
"Is that a yes, then?" He pulled her closer, feeling the soft shorts she wore and then the bare skin of her thick thighs, as well as the skin of her belly, as Ginny still wore the beautiful bikini white that made her breasts look too dazzling - which resulted in them having a quickie in the bathroom.
‘’It’s always a yes when it comes to having sex with you’’ Before Harry could do anything, they were interrupted
‘’Ewwww !!! Don't say that word when we're all here!” Albus grunted loudly and irritated, with what appeared to be a fish in his hands ‘’This is disrespectful’’ Now all three others were paying attention to them, with a frown on their faces
‘’What do you want, Al?’’ Ginny still seemed to want to laugh, but kept her face serious, and Harry tried his best not to show his disappointment at having to walk away from his wife
‘’I would call you to dinner, but now, my appetite has passed’’ James got up quickly from where he was, running over to his brother and taking the fish from his hands, very determined
‘’If your hunger is over, good, because ours isn’t’’ Teddy nodded from afar, pulling another fish with the fishing rod that looked bewitched, placing it in a bucket full of water. ‘’Now, can the couple stop talking obscenities for a moment at least? Aren't three kids enough already?’’ Harry shrugged, putting his arm around Ginny’s waist and pulling her close again
''I thought you already understood that it's not always to procreate'' James and Albus gaped, while Lily feigned a retching next to Teddy who was laughing out loud, causing the new fish in his hand to escape and return to the sea
‘’This is disgusting, I think I’m going to throw myself out to sea right now’’ The older one left, followed by the other brother, who looked like he was about to ask Teddy to obliviate him. Harry joined Ginny in laughter, happy that he might have a chance to cause this discontent in his children. It was always the best time.
‘’Are you happy?’’ She asked him, looking at the children and then at him, lacing her fingers in hims and kissing the wedding ring that would never leave his finger
''I have never been happier than when I am at home'' Even if his children bothered him, or if he needed to deal with his children's amorous disappointments (which were not few), and eventually they fought because there were so many nerves on, Harry would never trade his life with anyone else. He would still do everything the same.
‘‘We’re not home’’ Harry shrugged, kissing Gin’s forehead and smiling at her
''Wherever you are, it's my home.'' The woman blushed furiously, but rolled her eyes and laughed, because she was still his Ginny and would never miss the chance to laugh at his silly face in love, even if with almost 20 years of marriage and many declarations of love along the way.
‘‘Shut up’‘
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Jim’s Best Friend
Part Nine - Stamford Bound
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Word Count: 2066
Author’s Note: I decided that Jim and Y/N need a tradition. So, have a nice little chapter with fabricated backstory!
WARNING: none.
April, 2006.
"Am I proud of myself?" Jim repeated the question, a smile erupting onto his face. "Honestly, kinda. Nice knowing I made Patrick and Y/N happen, and even though it's only been two months... I feel good about it." He looked to the producer.
"Oh... You meant about the whole Stamford thing..." Jim's face fell. "I, uh, yeah... It's a step up isn't it? Not like I have reason to stay here anyway."
Ever since January, Jim had been doing whatever he could to forget about his feelings for Pam: he booked a trip to Australia, he interviewed for the Stamford job, he had even gone out on a few double dates with you and Patrick. But, seeing both of his best friends so happy with their relationships and jobs, he couldn't help but feel left out of the loop. He had even complained to HR about Pam planning her wedding in the office, though the two patched things up quite quickly.
Both you and Pam had been in full blown wedding mode, and as her in-office bridesmaid, she asked at the end of February, you were helping with Save the Dates, dress colours, flower arrangements, everything. And you enjoyed it, being swept up in the whirlwind of love that filled the air.
You and Patrick had been dating as official boyfriend and girlfriend for about a month and a half, and you couldn't remember a relationship that made you happier. You even moved The Notebook from your handbag into a drawer in your apartment, since you were fully commited to an exclusive relationship now. Poker at Jim's was the best thing that had happened to you in a while, and the whole office knew it.
You were even more bubbly than the bride-to-be, managing to keep a smile on your face through all of Dwight's bullshit, and you were making more sales than ever before. And despite you and Patrick deciding to take things slow, more for your sake than anything, the bi-weekly date nights had added colour and purpose into life again. You hadn't felt so good in a relationship, and in general, for years.
As you finished up on another big sale, an email pinged up on your screen from Jim. You glanced over, but he was pretending to be busy so that Dwight wouldn't bother him, and you instead focused on the email.
Do you think I could talk to you before the casino tomorrow? In private? Need your advice on something. - J xx
You pulled out your keyboard and quickly began typing back, sending the message over quickly before your phone rang again. Jim opened the reply email as soon as he received it, scanning over the computer screen.
Of course, why don't we go to the park after work? Just us two. Get hot dogs for dinner, my treat? - Y/N/N xx
Jim smiled at the message, trying to remember the last time you had both gone for a Hot Dog Date, or HDD. It would have had to be before you went to Spain the year before. It first occurred the year Jim arrived at the office, you had only been in sales for a few months yourself, promoted from the warehouse. It was a Friday, and you were complaining about having to go shopping straight after work. Pam was taking a sick day, and Jim offered to buy you dinner. It wasn't a date or anything, and when you both decided that hot dogs couldn't be topped, a tradition begun.
Anytime either of you were too stressed or tired or simply needing a chat, a HDD took place. A walk in the nearby park, followed by Hank's Hotdogs on your favourite park bench overlooking the pond, and then the pair of you just talked. For hours. The only way you left that bench was when the rain came down too hard for your umbrella to bear, or the night enveloped you in a cold that threatened catching the flu. That first time, Jim told you about college, about feeling stuck at Dunder Mifflin, about not knowing what to do with his life, and you shared the real reasons you never ended up in college: how you started working full time in the warehouse when your mom got sick, how Michael took you under his wing and got you into the sales position.
A thousand times yes.
He responded, and the pair of you got back to work, only stopping for coffee breaks with Pam and another one of Michael's meetings.
"So..." Jim started as you sat down beside him on your bench, handing him a hot dog and setting down two cans of soda on the bench between you. "How's Patrick?" He asked, and you sat back.
"Not a chance, Halpert. You called for the HDD, you share first. Them's the rules." You said, biting into your hotdog with enthusiasm. You had been eating healthy with Patrick, and as much as you loved the whole 'eat good, feel good' thing, you missed junk food. He sighed, and looked out at the pond, his eyes following the ducks that swam around for a few minutes, chewing on his hot dog as he thought. You stayed quiet, letting him think through it all, he usually did this. Sometimes, it would be twenty minutes before either of you spoke, but the silence was warm and relaxed. There was no expectation.
"I think I'm going to transfer to the Stamford branch." Jim said finally, and you looked over at him. Before you could ask, he continued. "There's an opening for Assistant Regional Manager, the money's better... It's only a few hours drive away. And I already interviewed..."
"So the other day, when you were at a doctor's appointment..." You trailed off, and Jim nodded.
"Dwight gave me the idea, if you could believe it... And I need to go somewhere new Y/N. It's not like I'll move up in Scranton... Not like I'll move on." He sighed out, and took the last bite of his hot dog, washing it down with some grape soda.
"I..." You stopped, taking a sip of your own beverage. "I get it. And while Michael's speech on the boat was motivational, it wasn't exactly realistic." You shrugged, leaning forward on your knees. "Pam loves you, but Roy is her fiancé. She loves him more."
"You... You heard what Michael said?" Jim asked, and you looked over with a smile.
"Yeah... Came looking for him, found you both deep in the throws of success speeches." You giggled, and Jim smiled back a little. "Can't believe he thought we would get together." You added, and Jim nodded.
"Could you imagine? The anarchy would be neverending." He chuckled, and you were glad you could cheer him up a little. It was shit, being in a situation where no-one was wrong. Roy was good to Pam, Pam was a wonderful woman, and Jim couldn't help being in love with her. He sat up straight, and stood up, offering you a hand to get up. You took it, rising to your feet and looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. "So, what about you?" Jim asked, the pair of you beginning a stroll around the pond, the lamps overhead slowly turning on as the sun set, painting the rolling clouds in colour.
"I think I'm in love." You said decidedly, and Jim stopped in place.
"Really?" He asked, his eyes lighting up with joy, and you let out a soft laugh.
"Oh, it's too early to say anything but... I don't know, Patrick has agreed to take things slower than he's used to, and he just... He makes me happy?" You went pink. To think that only months ago, you were still with Brian. Jim pulled you into a hug, picking you up and spinning you round. You squeaked in response, the pair of you sharing a laugh as he put you down.
"You deserve it, Y/N. I expect to be you maid of honour." He teased you a litte, and you elbowed his side playfully.
"Don't get too ahead of yourself. I just, I'd like it to last." you shrugged, continuing to walk.
"I'm glad he's over Jennifer." Jim made the offhand comment after a few minutes of strolling, and you glanced over.
"Jennifer as in Jennifer Young?" You asked, and Jim nodded, frowning when you did.
"What's up?"
"He's out with her tonight... Some other friends from work too, of course. I just didn't realise she was the ex girlfriend." You said slowly. Patrick had talked about her an awful lot during the last two months, but you just thought she was a friend to him like Jim was to you.
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it Y/N. They ended in January, amicably. Maybe they just lost the romantic spark, cut it off?" Jim suggested, and you nodded in agreement. There was never any point in overthinking friendships, it would only make you feel worse.
"You're right... Oh! I'm bringing him along to the casino night tomorrow, he can finally meet the office. Meet Pam!" You said with a smile, slowing down as you spotted an ice cream shop across the street. "Do you want ice cream?" You asked suddenly, and Jim grinned, throwing an arm over your shoulder.
"You are adorable." Jim said, and you looked up at him, still waiting for an answer. "Yes, of course I want ice cream." He rolled his eyes, and you exited the park together, crossing the street and walking up to the store counter.
"You know, there's rumours going around about Dunder Mifflin going international..." You said after ordering a strawberry ice cream and sprinkle cone. "Overheard Jan talking about it on the phone at the Women in the Workplace meeting."
"Where would the office be based?" Jim asked, getting two scoops of cookie dough flavour in a cup. You paid and walked back towards the park, Jim digging into his dessert by your side.
"Either Madrid or Vienna... I thought I would talk to her next time I see her, see if it's still happening. I don't know now though, since Rick and I..." You said, licking the ice cream slowly. The idea of Jim leaving suggested that maybe you should try something new too. You had been at the Scranton branch three years more than he had.
"They could use you! Your Spanish is... Well, I don't know Spanish, so I can't be sure, but I bet your Spanish is great." Jim encouraged it, and you smiled, letting out a breath. The pair of you slowed down, walking along the rickety wooden dock and taking a seat at the end, the half moon shining down onto the midnight blue water.
"Is this it then?" You asked, looking up, taking another lick of your ice cream, catching a drip before it hit your hand. "The end of an era? The three musketeers, no more." You said, and Jim shook his head.
"Not a chance... But, maybe... Maybe it's the mid season break? A chance for all of us to take a breather, reunite for the thrilling finale, end with a bang." He said with a grin.
"There's nothing thrilling about office work, Halpert." You reminded him with a giggle.
"On the contrary, Y/L/N. Because, while my time left at Scranton may be short, I can say with complete honesty." He stopped, taking your free hand in a gesture of faux affection. "For a day to be thrilling at the office, there simply has to be you and I... And Dwight so we can slowly torture him to insanity." He smirked, and you burst into laughter. Once it died down, you and Jim fell into that comfortable silence once more, finishing your ice creams.
The walk to his car was short, the car ride home quick, and you gave his hand a squeeze as you got out in front of your apartment.
"I do not know what in the world I would do without you, Jim." You said honestly, a smile on your face. "So if you leave, I have to get at least one email a day."
"No matter how many times you make me watch it, Y/N, I will never, ever be Ryan Gosling." Jim pouted, and you rolled your eyes.
"Night, Jim."
"Night, Y/N."
--
Tags: @imsuperawkward​
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sunsetinmyvein · 3 years
Text
You Better Keep Your Mouth Shut
A fic for someone other than Matty? Miraculous, I know. Thanks for adding some diversity to the mix @robinrunsfiction​ with your request from the prompt list. :P
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Why were family events so awkward and stifled? Was it just a prerequisite of getting together with extended family that by default there had to be repeated pleasantries, uncomfortable questions and weird plus ones? Or was that just my family? Thanksgiving was never fun for this exact reason. The food was nice, but having to mentally prepare for at least three days prior for my aunt’s annoying speeches about what she had already accomplished by the time she was my age was not. But it was only once a year. I only had to grin and bear this for just twelve hours, once a year. I could do that. The best bit of this whole weird gathering was that my sister had decided she required a plus one this year. Apparently, she was fed up of the berating from our grandparents about when she was going to get a stable boyfriend, so she had dragged some poor outsider into this mess. However, that outsider happened to be someone that I already knew. Instead of choosing someone from her own social circle (she thought our parents might get suspicious if it was someone that they had already met), she chose someone from mine. Spencer was my best friend, and she had decided to “date” one of his good friends, Ryan.  
 It was pretty obvious that they weren’t actually dating. They were overdoing it. The constant hand holding, the sappy remarks, the sweet smiles - it was sickening. Anyone who was paying attention would be able to notice that all of this intimacy was entirely surface level. There were no stories about how they met, no retelling of funny dates, no actual kisses exchanged. My family seemed to buy it, but I wasn’t. I knew full well Spencer would’ve told me if Ryan started dating my sister. But it definitely gave the extended family something new to discuss and fuss over. I’d only met this guy a handful of times in passing over the years and he seemed fairly reserved from what I had seen. Spencer usually talked highly of him. But here he was, fake dating my sister and trying to charm a family that wasn’t his own. The whole charade was leaving a bitter taste. My family were shitty to deal with, sure, but it was still pretty underhanded to deceive them like this. I thought better of my sister than to pull a stunt like this, and I thought Spencer kept better friends than this, too. Apparently not.
  “What do you do for work, Ryan?” I heard my dad ask as I tuned back in to the dinner conversation.
“Yes, Ross. Enlighten us.” I chimed in, putting my phone down to hear his answer. I had been texting Spencer to ask if he knew about this or not (he didn’t), and to cross check what Ryan was saying. So far, everything he’d said tonight had been a lie. Where his family lived, what he was studying, he was painting the picture of a perfect boyfriend.
“Is there a reason you never say my first name?” He asked with a frown.
“Well, from the brief time that I’ve known you, I just don’t think that we’re familiar enough to be on a first name basis.” I answered with a fake smile.
“He’s your sister’s boyfriend!” My mother chastised.
“Well, he should act more like it then.” I muttered under my breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I quickly dismissed. “So?” I asked, turning back to Ryan.
  “I’m an intern at a law firm.” He absolutely was fucking not.
“Oh, that’s good!” My uncle beamed. “Must be lining you up for a good paying job?”
“Yeah, I hope so!” The dark-haired boy laughed nervously.
“What firm are you at?” Now this was going to be interesting.
“Uh…” His wide-eyed floundering made it clear that he hadn’t been prepared with details to support his lie. Thankfully, my sister quickly came to his aid and rattled off some firm that she had heard of. Good save.
“That’s a really good place. They’ll set you up well to take care my little niece here.” He said as he placed an affectionate hand on said niece’s shoulder.
“Only the best for my love.” Gross. I needed to get some air or I was going to throw up all my turkey from how soppy that was.
“I need a drink.” I sighed, excusing myself from the table.
  Sure enough, as soon as I started pouring something into my glass, Ryan walked into the kitchen too. I couldn’t even get one moment of peace this evening. Great. He wandered aimlessly around the room, opening a few cupboards before turning to me.
“Hey, where’s the-”
“You’re not in love with her, are you?” I interrupted.
“I, uh… Yeah, I am.” He tried his best to defend himself, while also vehemently avoiding my gaze.
“No, you’re not.” I said, shaking my head.
He cleared his throat and glanced at the doorway before speaking, “What makes you say that?”
“I know my sister well enough to see when she’s faking it.” I answered simply.
He let out a long sigh, looking torn about whether or not to admit it. “Look, could you just keep this between us?” He said eventually.
“Why would I? What’s in it for me?” I scoffed as I kept making my drink.
  “I dunno. I’ll give you fifty bucks or something.” He said with a shrug.
“You’re trying to bribe me for my silence?” I laughed loudly; Ryan quickly shushed me in response.
“No, I- ugh. What do you want?” He grumbled in frustration. “Can’t you just drop it?”
“Why are you even doing this?” I frowned, dodging his question. “Actually, never mind, do I even want to know?” I added as I placed the tonic water back in the fridge.
“I offered to do it as a favour when she suggested asking someone.” He replied, still looking around the kitchen for whatever he was after.
“You instigated this?” I asked in surprise.
“Yes. To help your sister out.” He said with a nod. Hm. I supposed maybe he wasn’t such an asshole after all. “Got it!” He said, proudly holding a jar of relish as he left the kitchen.
  As expected, the silence was short lived. When Ryan left, my mother came in looking like she was on a mission.
“What’ve you got against that boy?” She asked in a stern tone as I poured the gin into my drink.
“I just don’t think he’s good for her, is all.” I answered vaguely.
“Why?” She interrogated. I shrugged, but apparently that answer wasn’t good enough. “Why?” She repeated.
“They don’t seem like they’ll be together long.” I tried my best to dodge her question. She stared at me for a long moment before deciding that was acceptable. And thankfully she dropped the topic before I spoke on it any further.
“Can you bring the pie in with you?” She asked sweetly as she grabbed a stack of dessert plates.
“Sure.” I mumbled as she walked out. Before I even moved to grab the pie, I poured myself a straight shot of the gin. I was going to need something strong to get through this evening.
  By the time I finally came back into the room, Ryan was in the middle of regaling some story to try and get my family to like him more. But it was only a matter of time before he put his foot in it. “I was at practice the other day-”
“Practice?” My dad asked in curiosity.
“Band-” He realised what he’d said as soon as the word left his lips. But he’d said it now, there was no taking it back. “Band practice, yeah.” He admitted sheepishly. I saw my uncle share a look with my dad over this new information. A junior lawyer in a band? They were right to be suspicious.
“You’re in a band?” My sister gawked. She didn’t even know he was in a band with Spencer! What, had they exchanged all of five sentences before tonight?
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I could put you on the guestlist one night, if you’d like?” He offered with a smile.
“I’d like that.” I piped up.
“Oh, I… Yeah… Okay.” He stumbled, looking like he hadn’t expected me to take him up on that. Maybe it was the gin going to my head, but I suspected maybe I could have a little fun with this to make tonight a bit more interesting.
  The drinks did indeed make things much easier. They also made a lot of this funnier. I watched Ryan and my sister fawning over each other during dessert, and it was no longer gross, now it was just humorous. After my dad cleared away the plates, they were exchanging romantic comments and staring at each other wistfully.
“Gosh, when’s that gonna happen for me?” I asked with a faux dreamy expression.
“Huh?” Ryan asked in confusion.
“When will I land myself a boyfriend like you?” I elaborated.
“Maybe if you had kept your last job you might’ve met someone there.” I heard my aunt say. But her passive aggressive comments weren’t going to sway me this time.
“It’s a shame Ryan isn’t single.” I pouted. Ryan choked on his drink as I said it, instantly spluttering all over the table. He excused himself and ducked to the bathroom, leaving me trying very hard to not break into hysterics. I suspected I hadn’t been too far off the mark when I picked him to be quite shy, because it seemed that legitimate flirting (not fake flirting) was something he couldn’t handle.
  It was pretty easy to carry on like that once I got the ball rolling. And by some stroke of dumb luck, my parents saw it as me warming up to Ryan rather than me messing with him. Whenever the night was nearing its end, I kicked Ryan’s shin under the table to catch his attention. He looked over at me with an exasperated expression, obviously fed up of having to tolerate my antics.
I leant in before speaking, making sure I had his full attention, “I really, really want to kiss you right now.” I said quietly.
His eyebrows shot up in shock, his mouth opening and closing a few times while he clearly tried to think of what to respond. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.” He eventually settled on. I just shrugged. “Why would you want to?” He questioned.
“To start drama.” I chuckled.
“Do you do this stuff at all of your family events?” He asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Only the boring ones.” I grinned.
“Remind me to never help your sister out again.” He sighed as he turned back to the conversation happening on the other side of the table.
  My fun didn’t last too much longer after that. The sun had well and truly set, and people wanted to get home, which was my cue to leave. I wasn’t going to hang around here longer than I was obligated to. Once everyone had grabbed their leftovers and sorted themselves out, we were left with the awkward goodbyes on the driveway.
“It’s been a great evening.” I said, before grinning in Ryan’s direction.
“It’s been… an evening.” Ryan sighed.
“Aw, you didn’t have fun?” I asked with a laugh.
“Lovely to see you!” My uncle said, cutting my teasing off as he and my aunt exchanged their parting pleasantries.
“We’ll have to do this again sometime.” I said as I opened my car door. Ryan gave me a look like he’d sooner pass out before stepping foot into this house again.
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