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slash-em-up · 4 years

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In-Flight Entertainment Pt. 2: Chromeskull x Reader

Here’s part 2!! As promised, this is almost entirely SMUT!! You’ve been warned. Enjoy!!

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The goth-pirate known as ‘Jesse’ sure made a mean cocktail.

You giggled and flopped onto the couch, letting your free arm run lightly over the soft leather as you kicked off your Ugg’s.

“Jesus, if I could travel like this maybe I wouldn’t hate flying so much.”

Your dinner partner leaned back in the too-small dining room chair and smirked at you, draining the last of his drink before pouring another from the pitcher of Old Fashions he’d mixed at your request.

He’d signed ‘All the good whiskey is gone anyway…’ and then ruined all other Old Fashions for you forever.

Dinner had tasted like it was from a five-star restaurant. Hardly the Big Mac you’d been contemplating before being ‘abducted’. Your eyes had nearly popped out of your head as suit-clad waiters appeared through the suites door and offered you both menus before Jesse waved them off, texting that you’d both take ‘one of everything’.

Now you were full, a little tipsy, and having a pretty great time, all things considered.

“Do you always fly like this?”

Jesse shook his head.

‘Sometimes I don’t have a layover.’

You laughed “Smartass!” before slapping a hand over your mouth.

“Sorry. That was rude.”

He waved you off with a dismissive gesture.

‘It’s OK. I am. But don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to uphold.’

“Oh? And what reputation is that?” You smiled teasingly. God, were you really flirting? You didn’t even know him - not really.

Jesse tilted his head and looked at you - the grin he’d been sporting all night slowly dropping.

‘Not a terribly pleasant or interesting one.’

You sobered a bit as well.

“Well whatever you do out there…” you gestured vaguely at the door “… You’ve been a glorious smart-ass in here.”

The tall man grinned again, dropping his head in a mocking bow at your side-ways compliment.

Taking another sip of your drink you tried to think of another topic of conversation - something that would bring you back into nice neutral territory.

But then Jesse started to unbutton his shirt.

Not much - he clearly wasn’t trying to do a strip-tease for you - but the buttons he undid left just enough skin exposed for you to see the beginnings of a tattoo on his chest and the faint lines of his pectoral muscles skimming teasingly beneath his black button-down and your brain went completely blank.

“Umm…”

Very eloquent.

Jesse followed your gaze and gave you a look.

‘A little stuffy in here, right?’

“Sure…”

‘Only six more hours till take-off if the god damn snow lets up…’

“Hopefully…”

‘Am I bothering you?’

He undid another button.

“No!” you gasped out, tearing your eyes away from the new inches of skin he’d exposed - this time definitely teasing you on purpose.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

Jesse huffed in a way you’d come to learn was his way of laughing.

‘Stare all you like - less annoying than pretending you’re not looking at the face, honestly.’

Now you really wanted to ask what’d happened to his face; but thankfully you had enough of your faculties still in-tact to decide that probably wasn’t a good idea if you wanted him to keep working on those buttons.

And you really, really did.

“You’re right. It is pretty stuffy in here…”

I mean, it wasn’t entirely untrue - the thermostat was set to a balmy 73 degrees, and despite the snowstorm outside you were pretty toasty in this weird grand-theft suitcase fever dream you were experiencing.

And the fact that your stomach was doing very strange things when Jesse smirked and slowly pushed another button through its hole, revealing even more tattooed skin, could definitely be blamed on the dinner.

Too much rich food and your stomach was starting to do flip-flops.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the inches of muscular skin covered in intricate ink that was now bared nearly entirely to your gaze.

Fuck. You were in trouble.

You swallowed roughly as your eyes met Jesse’s. He looked like he was nearly ready to pounce on you - and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to.

“You know… I wasn’t planning to hook up on this trip…”

Jesse’s eye narrowed as his lips twitched into a teasing grin.

‘I saw the underwear you packed. I HOPE you weren’t planning on hooking up on your trip.’

Your mouth dropped.

“Hey! I - “

But before you could respond Jesse had moved from his chair with an unanticipated speed; coming to kneel before your sprawl across the couch.

He was immediately in your space, mouth inches from yours as even on his knees he was much, much taller than you were sitting.

Your eyes caught his as his lips grazed lightly over yours.

“And I supposed you packed appropriate underwear for hooking up?”

Jesse responded by threading one large hand into your hair and pulling you forward into a rough kiss.

You moaned as he ran his tongue along the seam of your lips - which you opened immediately - only to do so again in frustration as he barely dipped inside before retreating, teasing you as your tongue chased after.

Frustrating man, frustrating kisser… that tracked.

Running your hands along his chest, you made short work of the couple of remaining buttons and pushed the soft fabric down his arms - surprising him, and yourself by pulling the cloth taut half-way down his arms, effectively trapping him as you surged forward and turned, bringing yourself over to straddle his hips.

You gasped as his pelvis thrust up, letting you feel just how much he was enjoying your little foreplay. He felt… proportional. And that was more than a bit intimidating.

“Fuck, Jesse…” you gasped out between kisses.

He nodded in agreement, already breathing heavily as he leaned closer to suck a hickey into the skin of your neck.

Crying out you ground your hips into his - enjoying the vibrations of his silent moan against you as he hardened even further in his slacks.

His teeth pulled at the collar of your shirt and you obliged by quickly removing it and tossing it across the room.

Your bra followed right after before your brain decided to come back online and force you to pull away, looking anywhere but at him - nervous now that your barriers were being removed.

Jesse took advantage of your distraction to twist free of your impromptu bonds, hands coming up to caress your face before running sensuously down your bare sides.

It was hard to be self-conscious when he was so obviously enthralled by you.

He leaned in for another kiss, which you eagerly returned before letting out an indignant squeal as one of his hands landed a sound slap against your still clothed ass.

Your eyes popped open as you felt him take ahold of you and hoist you both up to standing before setting you gently back against a cold, smooth surface.

Oh god, was that the window?!

He was going to fuck you in front of a window.

Your embarrassment level dialed up to fifty; but then Jesse dropped to his knees in front of you, and you decided your modesty and confidence issues could fuck right off for a while.

Unsure of where to put your hands, you settled them across his broad shoulder as he leaned in to run his face over the skin of your stomach, kissing you there before moving further down along the seam of your pants until he was pressed right up against your heat.

He inhaled deeply, causing you to shiver and moan. You could feel yourself getting wet and he hadn’t really done more than kiss you.

Your fingers worked frantically at your waistband, trying to push them down your hips so you could bring Jesse even closer to where you desperately wanted him.

Grinning up at you, Jesse’s broad hands joined yours, taking over as his thumbs pulled your leggings down, along with your underwear, leaving you fully nude in front of him.

You motioned to his own tented slacks.

“Fair’s fair…” you gasped.

Jesse stood, towering over you before guiding one of your hands to his fly before pressing both long arms against the window - effectively caging you in with his body; but also giving you license to touch as you wanted.

And holy fuck did you want.

The hand not occupied with freeing his cock roamed unchecked across his skin, tracing each tattoo and feeling, to your surprise, many scars of various shapes and sizes made invisible to the eye by the intricate designs.

It felt like he was hiding a lifetime of pain under there. Some tattoos were bright and fresh; clearly done fairly recently… but some were fading, letting the rough, pale scars peek through.

Jesse watched you as you studied him.

He wondered what you’d think if he told you that every tattoo was designed to mask a wound - that each time he was cut or shot that as soon as he arrived home his team had both doctors and artists ready to patch him up and then ink over the evidence of the violence he perpetrated.

What better way to hide something than to cover it?

You skimmed your hand over his nipple, bringing him from his morbid thoughts with a gasp.

Fuck, that felt good. How long had it been since he’d done this? Not with a piggy; but with someone who he actually - surprisingly -enjoyed having around. Someone with no other ulterior motive than to enjoy a few hours of pleasure with him. God, it had been ages.

Finally finishing with his trousers, you pushed them down his slim hips until he was able to kick them off into a corner.

His cock curved enticingly into the skin of your stomach and you couldn’t help but to dip down and taste him, causing him to toss his head back in pleasure.

You moaned as you filled your mouth with as much of him as you could take, wrapping your hand around the rest and quickly finding a rhythm that made Jesse’s legs shake.

Leaning over you, he let the cold window press against his forehead - he wasn’t going to cum like some teenager from just a blow and a hand. Although he definitely could if his pride would allow it - the noises you were making as you suckled on his length were driving him insane.

Jesse’s hips were moving with you as you sucked and fondled his balls; only to let out a yelp as you were pulled away and turned to press against the chill glass.

Your nipples hardened immediately and you gasped at the sensation along with the visceral jolt of fear that someone would look up at just the right time and see your naked body pressed against the window.

You felt Jesse’s hand come down to cup your mound, sliding one, then two long fingers through your slick before pressing slowly inside.

Jesse turned your head to swallow up your cry of pleasure with his lips as he began a punishing pace.

You may have made his legs shake; but he was determined to make yours buckle.

Soon a third finger joined, prepping you for his cock and you couldn’t help but to hump his hand as the long digits inside of you pounded against your g-spot.

“Please, Jesse, please I can’t, I - “

Your first orgasm of the night went through you like a shot. You screamed up to the ceiling as Jesse wrapped his other arm around your waist to keep you upright - barely giving you a second to recover before his cock was sliding into your hot depths.

“F-fuck!!”

You’d never felt so full in your life, and while your body was still contracting and spasming from your first orgasm, Jesse thrust into you an pulled you mercilessly into another.

“OH MY GOD!!”

Your feet left the ground as the man behind you grasped your knee and across your breasts, lifting you up to angle himself to better drive into you from behind.

A constant stream of babbling praise left your mouth as you wrapped an arm behind you to wrap around Jesse’s neck.

The sound of your wet pussy being filled to the point of overstimulation filled the small room, echoing through the space in a sinful symphony of breathing and moaning and filthy, wet noises.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself crest on a third orgasm, wailing and thrashing enough that Jesse was forced to take you both to your knees lest he drop you - immediately pushing your face down into the ground as his pace increased - his own end nearing as you sobbed out your pleasure - so much pleasure that you couldn’t tell if you were overstimulated beyond reason, or experiencing the world’s longest orgasm.

One, two, three rough thrusts and Jesse finally came into your exhausted cunt.

Shivering and gasping, one last slow orgasm ran through your body as you felt his cock spray it’s seed into you, filling you to bursting.

Jesse collapsed over you, chest heaving.

You couldn’t move. Every part of your body was jelly, and you were pretty sure you were going to die here. That was A-Okay with you.

“Holy shit…”

Jesse nodded tiredly against the back of your neck.

Holy shit indeed.

Slowly turning, you looked up at Jesse, who was still trying to regain his breath above you.

“Is it lame to say ‘thank you’?”

He grinned brightly down at you, pulling you to sit across his lap before signing;

‘Only if it’s lame to say ‘thank you’ back.’

You smiled tiredly.

“Well then I guess neither of us should say it, then.”

Jesse leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, which you barely returned - already half-asleep.

“Mmm... wake me up before the plane leaves…”

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

“Ma’am? Ma’am?”

You jolted up, ready to fight, before sinking back down into your seat with a groan.

“Oh fuck me…” you said, raising a hand and running it tiredly over your eyes.

“I’m so sorry to disturb you ma’am; but we need all passengers to secure their luggage before take-off.”

Peering through your fingers, you stared in confusion at the flight attendant.

Why was there a flight attendant here?

Where was here?

Oh shit! You were on a plane!

Now wide awake, you sat up quickly, grasping the flight attendant by the wrist.

“How did I get here? What flight is this?!”

Looking nonplussed, the attendant gently removed your hand.

“You’re on the 10:57 flight from Denver to LA. The snow finally cleared enough for the pilot to take off.”

You stared.

“This isn’t coach…”

“… No ma’am, this is first class.”

“… but I have a coach ticket…”

The attendant glanced down at the ticket stub stuck in the pocket outside your seat.

She looked confused.

“No, ma’am, it says first class here… I’m sorry if there’s been some misunderstanding… maybe the gentleman who brought you aboard can clear things up.”

Now it was your turn to look confused.

“The gentleman who…”

The attendant pointed over your shoulder.

“He’s right over there.”

Swiveling in your seat you stared down the aisle, meeting Jesse’s laughing brown eye from a few rows back.

“Now, like I said we are preparing for takeoff, so if you’d be so kind as to secure your carry-on we’ll be up in the air and serving your complimentary champagne and hors d’oeuvre’s in no time!”

Grumbling under your breath you stuffed your carry-on under your seat.

Well, you supposed there were worse ways to fly.

#jesse cromeans #jesse cromeans x reader #chromeskull #chromeskull x reader #laid to rest (2009)#chromeskull: laid to rest 2 #jessica writes #horror movies #slasher fiction

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laele25 · 3 years

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Republicans are willfully stupid

And now that I have your attention, let me explain. Here are some the asinine ‘wow, you’re really dumb enough to believe that, huh, hoss?’ excuses I have seen tossed around by Republicans trying to justify voting for Trump and his enablers. 1 “But Democrats want to kill babies.” Okay, straight up, if you believe that, you’re a moron who deserved to be mocked into silence. The only people who have been ‘killing babies’ is the US government who has thrown them in cages for the last four years and bombed the Middle East for the last 20. Fuck off with your faux morality pearl clutching, I ain’t even renting it. You just want to tell other people what to do with their bodies so you can justify your racism and have a false sense of morality. Until you care about the children separated from their families, the children dying during our drone raids. or the child homeless and starving or stuck in abusive homes, you do not ‘think of the children’. You are pro-forced birth and any CPS worker worth their salt can give you a lesson on why forcing people to have and keep children they do not want is incredibly cruel, especially to said child. 2. “Higher wages will make things more expensive!” Hoover would have LOVED to have your bootchoking idiots around when the stock market crashed in ‘29. Since you only care about anecdotal evidence instead of data, well, lucky for you, I live in a city with a $15 an hour minimum wage. Before the country had to shut down (by the by Washington was rated the best place to ride out the pandemic because we have a sane governor and social safety nets) , there were help wanted signs in nearly every business. Why? Because people don’t have to have three jobs to make ends meet. Yeah, housing is obscene, but that is because of an unregulated housing market, just like the rest of the country. A Big Mac is still only six bucks here. Five years after $15 an hour. And before anyone runs in with ‘But what about the people who are being paid less than $15 an hour and aren’t in ‘low wage jobs’?’ Because that’s another, ‘Wow, you really are deepthroating that boot hard, aren’t you?’ When the minimum wage goes up, ALL WAGES GO UP. Why? Because businesses have to pay more to get good workers. It’s your ‘free market’ at work. And finally, the most classist argument of all ‘But those are just part-time jobs for teenagers.’ Now besides the fact all of the data says you’re fucking wrong and FDR flat out said he started the minimum wage as a living wage because any American who works full time shouldn’t be destitute, I’m gonna go again with appealing to your self-centeredness because you are all you care about. So what you’re saying is you only want fast food, retail sales, janitorial services, housekeeping, medical assistants, and secretarial work from 5pm to 10pm and weekends when those teenagers who you believe should do all that work are not in school. On top of their on average four hours of homework a night. Right... 3. “TAXES, OMG!” First of all, you are not the only ones who pay taxes. In fact, and here I go with data you won’t like, big blue liberal cities pay more taxes than you and take less tax money. Why? Because people have better wages, so there’s less destitute people living on food stamps. Imagine that. Also, the taxes you already pay are going to pay for new weapons of war that will go over budget, arrive late or are never delivered, or will be obsolete or never work anyway. Another big chunk goes to corporate subsidies, so that big corporations can pay their stakeholders even more and buy back their own stock to artificially inflate the value of the stock so they get even richer. While paying little or no taxes at all. So, yeah, taxing people over 400k matters shit all unless you make over 400k a year and if you do, you should be paying more taxes. You cannot avoid death or taxes. But make sure the money is being spent on things that help you, idiot. 4. “SOCIALISM!” Insert gif of Bernie Sanders yelling boo here. Because that’s how ridiculous y’all are. Medicare and Social Security are socialism. Pensions? Socialism. Stop using that word, you have no fucking idea what it means. 5. “Trump is doing the best he can with covid.” You are not wrong. This is as good as the incompetent, idiotic, senile, narcissistic, sociopathic, self-serving asshole can do. Which means he is absolutely unfit for the job. If you believe otherwise, you’re either as stupid as he is or don’t pay attention to anything but Fox News. And you’re probably also a tiny dicked racist who hates ‘immigrants’ even though we’re a country of immigrants. It takes a special kind of willful, hateful ignorance to not see what’s happening. And if you do and think that it won’t affect you, well, congrats, now you are the same as the Germans who looked the other way when the Nazis ran on anti-Semitism. Now, if anyone has anymore stupid Republican gaslighting you want me to debunk, let me know. Because i am fucking done. ETA: Centerists, you’re worse than the Trumpters, because you want us to be happy with them taking away some people’s rights and leaving some people out in the cold just to mollify the sociopaths on the right. Shame on you especially.

#fuck trump #fuck mitch mcconnell #fuck maga #politics #deplorables

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nancythebisexualslutwheeler · 4 years

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First Day of Kindergarten

Technically this is part 4 to this:

Eddie was extremely insecure about the difference between him and Eddie’s relationship with the kids. Richie got to stay with them all day, every day, and while they cling to him during the night, sometimes they wanted Richie instead, and Eddie sat pushed against the edge of the couch, three pairs of feet pointed towards him.

Liam tended to go to Richie when he was hurt. He wailed “Daddy” from the instant he hit the ground, or the ball hit him or Gemma pinched him. He launched into Richie’s arms the second he was close enough and wailed and wailed until he lulled himself to sleep in Richie’s big arms, his teddy bear in his hands.

Gemma loved her daddy with all her heart. She was his little princess. And he gave in to nearly everything she asked. He was currently teaching her how to scramble eggs. They had the Nova and yoga thing going on for them, and they had just started the new American Girl Doll series which was a step up from the animated shows she usually watched.

Even though Ian was only two, he showed preferences for Richie’s cooking. Richie could lift him higher in the air and RIchie was the one practicing the alphabet with him all day. Richie took him to the park, potty trained him.

Eddie felt useless. As a husband and mostly as a father. He hadn’t even seen the point in taking off work to bring Liam to his first day of Kindergarten because he didn’t think either Richie nor Liam would care. He did however, and woke up early with Ian and made chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream and lattes for him and Richie.

By the time they come downstairs, Liam is already dressed with his backpack on his back. He tries to climb up to stool but his backpack weighs him down,

“Liam, bud, take the backpack off.”

Liam looks up at him,

“Daddy said I could wear it,” he says.

Eddie looks up at Richie,

“I’ve been trying to get him to take it off for twenty minutes, I figured I’d save us the time.”

He lifts Liam onto the seat and Eddie bites his lip. He feels like he has no authority. Any time he tells the kids to do something, Richie’s already asked or done something different or better.

They need 6 kisses from Richie for Eddie’s 2, and Richie’s legs were stronger or Richie gave into Mac and cheese and chicken nuggets more, well Eddie preferred to not let the produce go to waste thank you very much.

Liam’s being a brat, Richie explains against Eddie’s lips as he leans over Eddie to dip a strawberry in whipped cream,

“Delicious, thanks baby.”

Gemma and Ian are at their grandparents so Liam could have his day, but that didn’t seem to stop Liam from acting out to get attention. First he didn’t want pancakes, he wanted a pop tart, then he didn’t want to put his shoes on. Eddie was being mean for not letting him wear more than one hair bow.

By the time they’re finally in the car, nearly late, Eddie is exhausted. He can tell Richie is too, however Richie is the one who’s sitting in the backseat with Liam, trying to calm him down. Eddie’s just the driver. He’s a failure as a father.

This is why Richie was the one who was a stay at home parent. He was the one who was good with jokes and the best at giving the kids their medicine, and he could watch hours of cartoons without suggesting a channel change even once.

Eddie didn’t know why he’d thought to go along. He wasn’t needed. He wasn’t wanted. It would be less painful to have received a picture with a text as he sat at his desk pretending to be busy.

If he doesn’t keep it together, he will cry right now on the way to the elementary school. He turns up the Disney mix tape playing in the car and sings along to Moana. He can do this.

Liam gets out of the car and bounds up to his teacher excitedly. They’ve met her three times. She’s a middle aged black woman named Mrs.Lahey and his classroom has a guinea pig named Linus. Liam was already obsessed with Mrs.Lahey, and she came up at their household often enough.

Neither man is surprised when Liam runs up to her, cutting the entire line of children and parents to give her a hug. She hugs him of course, and Eddie races over to grab him. Appearances are important, he hears his mother in his head. Mrs.Lahey explains that he has to wait his turn and a few other things he can’t hear, and when he turns to come back to Eddie, his eyes are full of tears.

Eddie steps back toward Richie, almost in fear, but mostly resentment because his son is going to someone else, not him. He’s not even looking at Liam, he’s holding tears back and pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, and he nearly falls over when Liam bangs into his shins. Eddie quickly looks down, and Liam’s sobbing, arms wrapped around his legs,

“Papa!” he wails.

Eddie just stares until Richie nudges him. Eddie scoops Liam up, cradling his little body as Liam buries his face into Eddie’s neck.

“What’s wrong my little lion?”

Liam cries harder and Eddie’s body slows into its bounce and rock that soothes the kids. He doesn’t even have time to be embarrassed about the way his hips are swaying. Eddie’s hand massages his back and his fists wrap in Eddie’s preciously pristine white shirt.

“Liam bear, what’s wrong?”

“You didn’t say you were leaving!”

“Leaving?”

“I have to stay here by myself?!” Liam demands.

Eddie pulls back to look at Liam, his face is red and snotty and Eddie wipes his face on his sleeve because it’s his son, and it’s okay to be dirty sometimes.

“Yeah bud. I have to work.”

“But I can do school with daddy! Daddy please? I’ll be good!”

He’s looking at Richie now but still clinging to Eddie.

“We’ve talked about this buddy. You’re going to go to school like Gemma. Remember when Gemma started going to school?”

“I’m not ready! I’m not ready! Papa don’t make me go.”

“Honey, you have to,” Eddie rocks him but he doesn’t seem to be calming down and he looks at Richie frantically.

Richie wraps his arm around Eddie and pulls him close to whisper in his ear,

“We’re going to leave him and he’s going to cry but we have to just walk away.”

“Richie,” Eddie mumbles, near tears himself.

“We’ve gotta babe. He’ll be okay.”

So Eddie kisses Liam’s forehead and then his two cheeks,

“Alright Liam, it’ll be fun, I promise. You’re going to make new friends and have fun with Mrs.Lahey,” says Richie.

“No papa! Daddy! Don’t leave me!” He cries when Eddie releases him.

It takes Eddie prying his hands from around his neck to get him to let go. He falls on the floor crying but Mrs.Lahey shoos them away. Richie helps Eddie up and wraps an arm around him, leading him to the front door. Eddie is crying before they reach the doors. Richie gets him to the car where he nearly collapses in the passenger seat. He’s sobbing now.

“Love, you’ve gotta calm down. He’ll be okay.”

Eddie shakes his head,

“Maybe it’s too soon. You can keep him at home another year.”

Richie laughs,

“Babe I cannot count above ten, you know this.”

Eddie glares and Richie rubs his arm,

“Babe, it’ll be okay. Just like Gemma. He’ll love it by the end of the day, I promise.”

Eddie sniffles,

“I don’t think I can go to work today.”

Richie nods and smiles,

“Okay baby, let’s just veg out today huh?”

“Your parents will be okay with watching Ian?”

“Are you kidding? They’ll love it. Let’s go home babe.”

Eddie wipes his eyes,

“Okay.”

#my writing #reddie #reddie fan fiction #Richie Tozier #Eddie kaspbrak #it ch 2 #it 2017 #it 2019

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sinregeek · 3 years

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Can I use the MagSafe charger for my iPhone 11 Pro Max OR Android Phone?

The release of iphone 12 has brought earth-shaking changes to wireless in-vehicle devices. No need worry about misalignment when charging your phone，The wireless car charger no longer requires a clip or arm. With magnetic stand. You can put your phone on your phone at any time and enjoy fast charging and navigation. At the same time, the magnetic force is very strong. Don’t worry about slipping due to bumps in the road. So the question is,

Can I use the new Magsafe wireless charger to charge iPhone 11?The answer is: yes!

Today, I will test the charging speed of the original Magsafe and SINREGEEK magnetic chargers for non-iPhone 12 phones. If you want to buy a new magnetic charger compatible with iphone 12 and iPhone11 or Android phones at the same time, don't leave until the end.

Original MagSafe charger for Iphone 11 test charging

Now we all know that, thanks to this new magsafe charger, iphone 12s can finally charge wirelessly with 15 watts of power, which is really great.

And it supports standard Qi charging, it can support various devices, just like the Apple list on its website.

This morning, I plugged in my Mac Pro which has USB Type C. I went ahead and set the maximum on my iPhone 11 Pro. It started charging as usual and everything is going well, now 10 minutes later I moved on, I picked up my phone and I was surprised that their ratio only rose by two percentage points, yes, it is exactly the same as a lot of you out there, I was expecting 7.5 watts for this kind of charging Many technical websites said that this is the standard of 10w 15w qi charger, which is exactly the standard accepted by iPhone 11.

So out of curiosity, I went ahead, purchased a well-rated charging app, and ran one of the many tests I will mention. The first result of medium is 4.98 watts. Now, I am expecting 7.5 watts and 4.98 watts in fact. It takes 4 minutes to charge this cell phone by two percentages!

At the same time, I found some things, the first one is that my phone is already quite charged, so I thought maybe this is limiting my wireless charging, because my battery is quite good already charged. The second thing is, you know I’m plugging in my MAC Pro monitor xdr, maybe it can’t provide all the power needed for this new charger, but it does say on the box that you need a 20-watt USB Type C charger Instead of 18 watts. So I decided to solve these two problems right away!

I grabbed a 20-watt adapter plugged into the new magsafe charger, then picked up my iPhone SE to fully align it and started testing. After about 10 minutes, I got my result, its power is as low as 1.8 watts!

Now this is definitely not right. This phone can accept 7.5 watts and the battery is almost dead! So it should be able to accept the full 7.5 watts of the charger, right? By then, I grabbed the real charging stand by the way, put the iPhone SE here and tested it again, and the result was a shocking 8.4 watts! It only takes an average of 39 seconds per percentage point, compared to an average of three minutes! !

I have to say that I couldn't believe it, so I tested it again with the Magsafe charger to make sure it was perfectly aligned.When I got a lower 1.49 watts! After that, I did a lot of tests, picked up the iPhone XS, and used different coils. To ensure this, I also tested the Samsung Note 20 and chose the Mophie charger that has been on sale since Apple’s release. The results are now very interesting. I don't know you, but I am not only planning to use this charger to charge the iphone 12. I want to replace multiple chargers. I have these new devices at home, so I can quickly charge the new iphone 12s, and at the same time, I can throw away Airpods here, or throw away other devices (such as Android phones or old versions iPhone), because these things are much better, more stylish, smaller and more beautiful.

I have a few standard people like Mophie, so I tested it on the iPhone SE and it got 5.5 watts, just a bit shy of 7.5 and my iPhone 11 Pro’s max got 7.14 watts, although it was well charged over 80 When I go back to use the magsafe charger, I continue to charge the iphone 11 pro max with a 20-watt brick with a power between 2-3 watts, just like when connecting it to my professional display xdr, no more than on the iphone SE 2 watts.

My iPhone XS also has 1-3 watts on magsafe instead of 7.5 watts.

Next is the time to test Note 20, it can accept 15W fast charging, but I don't want magsafe to provide it here, because obviously it is designed for iphone 12, but I hope to reach 7.5W at least. I can’t find the same app, but I found an app that can read the amplifier, instead of getting about 1.3 current from a cheap qi charger, I got 10 of them and kept disconnecting, even if it It is perfectly aligned. This means it takes 13 hours or more with Note 20 instead of 3.5 hours with 7.5 watts of power. IPhone between super and 6-12 hours!

Now, it is planned to use this magsafe charger to charge various devices. Although I know this will not magnetically align like it will work with iPhone 12 and one of these devices is my Airpods pros and cons, now these things need about 3 hours of charging time with cheap QI charger, but if you decide to use your MagSafe charger , It takes about 5 hours in those 3 watts in Max, it takes about 5 hours if it runs at just 1 watt like I sometimes see with iPhone SE, which means it takes 15 hours to charge your Airpods In comparison, it only takes two hours to plug them into a standard lightning rod!

SO what have we learned? Well, first of all, don’t expect the Original magsafe charger to provide you with 7.5 watts of charging power.You will usually need an iphone 8 or iphone SE, X, XS, 11, all of which are even 5 watts that Airpod professionals can use power. I know that many people mentioned this on the review site, and they mentioned exactly what you expected, because that is what other iPhones allow, and this is exactly what most Qi chargers will provide you. I don't know why this is happening, but in fact, we are working on this new magsafe charger with less than half the power consumption, which can sometimes be eight times lower than the power consumption of one of the devices I expected to plug in.

If you’re like me, it’s a shame. You want to replace some wireless chargers with a new, sleek, thin magsafe charger so that it takes up less space and looks more sleek, which allows you to For your iphone 12, you can quickly charge the iphone 12, but at the same time, you can put down the android phone or other people in the family, your spouse or children using the old-fashioned iphone with wireless charging function, they can also come in. You know that popping it up like that and getting wireless charging, that’s not a good idea, unless you really don’t like anyone else using this charger, and you want them to say about 6 times in half an hour of charging time Wireless charging is really frustrating. You definitely don't want to change other wireless chargers or charge other devices and things like Airpods.

SINREGeek magnetic wireless charger charging test

I got a real SINREGeek magnetic charger. It looks good quality. I opened it and took a look inside. The magnet particles are arranged neatly and the coils are also large. It should become a brand with a high evaluation score.

Another great thing is that this brand is very comprehensive. In order to make the magnetic charger compatible with IPhone12 and other mobile phones, they can provide an additional option "add a separate magnet plate" so that it can be precisely aligned to charge your phone.

This is the magnet plate I got. It's better than I thought.

I can easily install it on my Android phone according to the user manual.

The size of the sticker is the same as that of a magsafe compatible wireless charger.

Let us look at his charging performance on different phones.

To my surprise, unlike the original magsafe charger, sinregeek compatible Magsafe charger can charge iPhone XS with 7.5W charging power, which is several times faster than Magsafe charger, and the charging is very stable, only at the end. After fully charged, the charging speed will be reduced to protect the battery.

I replaced my mobile phone with my mother’s Samsung Note10, and the charging performance was even better than that of IPhonexs.7.5W fast charging.

I will give SINREGeek a completely different impression: a charging brand whose quality will never be lower than the original Apple charger.

Huawei P40 charging speed test

Obviously, if I want to buy a new magnetic charger compatible with IPhone12 and other mobile phones, SINREGEEK is the best choice, and adding a separate magnetic plate is more perfect.

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keichanz · 5 years

Text

Move Your Body || pt. 2

Part 1 || Part 2

“When’s your next class with Sango?” Inuyasha asked her around 4 am and tipped back a water bottle to drain the rest of its contents.

Lowering her own drink that Inuyasha had provided for them sometime around two in the morning, Kagome sighed and tilted her head as she thought.

“Um, Wednesday,” she supplied. “I know she does them every day, but I can only come in every other because of classes.”

He nodded. “After your sessions with Sango you’ll come up here and we can begin our own. A month isn’t that long to come up with an entire routine, so plan to stay all day. I’ll provide food and shit and we can take breaks.”

Kagome wrinkled her nose but nodded without complaint. He was right; they didn’t have a lot of time, and with her having classes and his own job demanding his time, they couldn’t get together every day.

Inuyasha grunted, carelessly tossed his empty water bottle onto the table and released a hearty belch, ignoring Kagome’s look of disgust as he snatched up her phone and brought up her messaging app.

“I’m sending myself a text so you’ll have my number,” he told her, typing out a quick “hi” and sending it before handing it over. “Feel free to text me about any ideas you might have, or questions you wanna ask. Don’t matter when, if I’m busy or in a meeting I’ll reply when I’m done. I’ll do the same if I think of something and we can brainstorm.”

Kagome took back her phone with a nod and walked over to stash it in her bag. She spotted the remnants of her destroyed t-shirt and suddenly remembered her state of dress and blanched. Oh crap, what was she going to wear when she left?! She couldn’t walk home in nothing but shorts and a sports bra!

Inuyasha followed her gaze, watched her eyes go wide and the color drain from her face and rolled his eyes, walking over to his own discarded shirt on the floor and tossing it at her.

“Here,” he said as she automatically caught it. “Just bring it with you Wednesday and if you forget, it’s not a big deal. It’s just a shirt.” He shrugged and raised his arms above him in a stretch, releasing a yawn. Fuck, he needed to get to bed soon since he had a meeting in like...five hours. Shit.

Sending him a grateful smile but not without a blush, Kagome pulled his shirt over her head, immediately feeling better now that she had some cover. True, she’d been in nothing but shorts and her bra for the past few hours and she was more or less used to it now, but part of her still felt the need to hide herself. But they were working on that, and she couldn’t begin to express her gratitude for his help.

Picking up her bag and shrugging the strap over her shoulder, Kagome leveled him with one last genuine smile.

“Thank you,” she said softly, sincerely as her eyes collided with deep amber, “for everything. It means a lot that you’re taking the time to do this and...well.” She laughed softly and lifted a shoulder in half-shrug. “I appreciate it.”

Inuyasha studied her for a moment, golden eyes speculative, before he quirked a grin at her. “It’s my pleasure, babydoll,” he told her, being completely honest. “I’ll see you Wednesday. You okay to walk by yourself?” He didn’t like the thought of her walking alone at nearly 4:30 in the morning, but he really did need to get some sleep. However, if she asked him to accompany her he wouldn’t say no.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured with a smile, touched that he truly seemed to care. “It’s not far, just a ten minute walk. See you Wednesday.” She turned and headed toward the doorway, giving a yawn. Damn, she hadn’t realized how tired she was. She was very glad her first class wasn’t until noon.

“I’ll text you,” Inuyasha murmured as he watched her go and after she disappeared into the elevator, giving one last wave and smile before the doors slid shut, he sighed, shut off the lights, locked up, and headed upstairs to get some much needed shut eye.

Inuyasha fell heavily into his office chair with a groan and immediately started yanking off the tie that had been gradually suffocating him since nine that morning. It was now a little after noon and he’d just returned from the meeting that had run much longer than originally planned. It was the quarterly meeting, where Sesshomaru and his advisors went over profit and a bunch of other technical jargon that he didn’t particularly care for, and he had been bored out of his goddamn mind for the majority of it. Sesshomaru had kept sending him warning glares whenever he couldn’t hold back a yawn but he couldn’t help it; while he didn’t need as much sleep as the regular human, it had still been a while since he’d stayed up that late and he was paying for it now.

Finally loosening his tie with a grunt, he let it hang around his neck and leaned back in his plush chair, tossing an arm over his eyes and debating on the merits of a brief nap. But then he remembered he had an appointment at one with some spoiled brat that fancied herself a dancer because her rich daddy had called the day before and practically begged him to see her. Inuyasha had only said yes just to get the guy to shut up; he had no intention of taking on another client. Not right now, anyway. Between his actual jobs and the side project he had going on with Kagome, he didn’t have nearly enough time to dedicate to the private lessons that had been requested.

At the thought of his blue-eyed, dark-haired “student,” a grin lifted the comers of his lips and miraculously the pounding in his head lessened a degree. He’d only spent a few short hours with her, but already Inuyasha was eager for tomorrow to come so he could see her again. He liked her spunk, admired her determination and the flash of temper that always sparked in her eyes whenever he criticized her form or made her do a certain move again, but better and faster.

Though clearly not a fan of his methods of instruction, Kagome never complained and did as she was as told, preforming a move again and again and again until he was satisfied. She was a hard worker, he was quick to realize, and a fast learner which blessedly made their time together much easier. He was really looking forward to the day where she could put everything he taught her together and put on a little show for him, but until then he was content in slowly getting to know her in increments.

He’d learned little snippets about her life last night during times when idle chatter had been had, things like she’d been friends with Sango since middle school, she had a younger brother, and being a nurse had been a goal since she was a little girl. She liked helping people, she was a terrible cook, and she was deathly afraid of spiders.

Inuyasha had also learned she’d only ever had one boyfriend, some shmuck named Houjo she’d dated in high school, and they’d broken up when he left for the States for college. She was a virgin – he’d gleaned that obvious information by himself – she was completely inexperienced when it came to intimacy, and she really, truly thought that she wasn’t the least bit attractive.

Inuyasha frowned. He wasn’t stupid; he knew a single night and him simply telling her it was false wasn’t enough to convince her otherwise. He didn’t understand how such a knockout like Kagome could possibly have self-esteem issues, but everybody had his or her reasons, he supposed.

Something might have happened in her past to make her think that, or maybe even something had happened just recently, but whatever the case Inuyasha was making it a personal goal to make her see herself through his eyes. She was a beautiful young woman worthy of praise and confidence, and he meant what he’d said; if he had to say it every day, shower her with compliments until she blushed and stuttered like a schoolgirl, he would.

Heaving a sigh, Inuyasha lowered his arm and cracked his neck, glancing at the clock and thinking he should probably get up and get something to eat when his office door opened without warning. His top instructor walked in like she owned the damn place, donned in her usual work attire of tank top and capri leggings with her dark hair secured in a high pony-tail.

Sango hip checked the door closed and strode over to his desk, calm as you please. Then Inuyasha noticed what she had in her hands and instantly he was alert, ears perking up and back straightening in his chair as he leaned forward.

“Fuck, I love you,” Inuyasha muttered as she set down a hot coffee from Starbucks and a McDonald’s bag on his desk. Knowing from experience not to immediately chug down the steaming brew, Inuyasha went for the food first, fishing out a Big Mac and barely getting the wrapper off all the way before chomping down with a groan of pleasure.

“I know,” Sango answered as she sat on his desk as opposed to one of the two chairs in front of it and sipped her caramel frappe. “Figured you’d be hungry since you never eat breakfast and your meeting ran late.”

Inuyasha grunted, polished off the burger with another three bites, and then started on the fries next.

“And also,” Sango continued a little too casually and idly played with the straw of her drink, “after I apologized about forgetting to unlock the door last night, a little birdie told me today that you didn’t get to bed until very late, hence the java.”

Then she paused and cut her eyes to his and Inuyasha froze.

Goddammit. He really should have known she’d tell her. Didn’t she say they’d been friends since middle school?

Heaving a sigh and rolling his eyes, Inuyasha shoved a few more fries into his mouth and then took a careful sip of his coffee. He let his silence be his answer and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he savored the Americano with one sugar. He tasted a hint of mocha too and he grunted in approval.

Sango’s lips twitched. “Are you seriously going to help her come up with an entire dance routine?”

He glared at her over the rim of his venti.

Unfazed, the dance instructor shrugged and turned her gaze to her drink, taking another pull on the straw. “I was just curious,” she said innocently, trying not to smile.

Her boss’s scoff told her exactly what he thought about her curiosity and that time she couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across her face.

“What’d she do to get you to help? Bat those big blue eyes at you and smile?”

Inuyasha stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, and then kicked up his feet onto his desk and leaned back in his chair as he nursed his coffee.

“I offered,” he told her.

Sango’s smile dropped. “What?”

He raised a brow and took another sip of his espresso.

Sango blinked at him and then her eyes widened. Holy crap, he was serious.

“Holy crap, you’re serious,” she said, incredulous.

Inuyasha looked a little offended at that and scowled at her. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I be? Despite what you and the pervert think, I ain’t heartless, Sango. The girl clearly needs help, and as it just so happens I have the qualifications that fit her needs perfectly. She’s just another client and just because she’s your friend doesn’t make her any goddamn different than anybody else.”

Sango’s stare hardened and she squared her shoulders. He may be her boss, but he was also her friend, and she wasn’t about to take any of his shit.

“I know for a fact that Kagome’s not paying you so don’t tell me she’s not any different,” she spat, her protective instincts kicking in as they always did whenever her dear friend’s delicate nature was compromised. “She thinks you’re helping her free of charge out of the goodness of your heart, and I swear to god, Inuyasha, if she’s another one of your charity cases to get more publicity or you want you want your payment to come from other means—”

“Shut the fuckup, Sango,” Inuyasha growled and shot forward in his chair so fast Sango flinched back. Golden eyes flashing fire and fangs exposed in a dark scowl, the half-demon seethed, “Kagome’s not a goddamn charity case and you know I would never take advantage of her innocence like that, or anybody else for that matter, so fuck you for even saying that.”

Alarmed by the heated vehemence in his voice, Sango snapped her jaw shut and simply stared at him with wide magenta eyes, at a complete loss for words. She’d never seen him react like this before about any woman and it was completely unexpected, if a little disconcerting. She supposed he head every right, though; she always lost her head a little whenever it came to Kagome’s safety and she admitted she shouldn’t have accused him of such a horrible thing, because he would never do that.

“Not that it’s any of your business, because it’s not, helping Kagome is actually helping me,” he continued, still glaring, though his voice had lost its growl. “Sesshomaru’s been on my ass about new material and this is the perfect opportunity to get it. Kagome gets her dance, shoves her victory in that bitch Kamlyn’s face, and I have new material to give to that tightwad. Everybody wins.”

That said, Inuyasha sat back in his chair once more, lifted his coffee to his mouth, and looked to the side, his eyebrows down low over his eyes. He glowered at some random point on the wall, still pissed that his friend would even insinuate he would ever take advantage of a woman like that.

A tense silence developed between them after that and Sango stared pensively into her drink while Inuyasha nursed his coffee and fished his phone from his pocket. He’d gotten a text earlier during the meeting but hadn’t had the chance to check it yet...

Sango sighed, drawing his attention, and he flicked his gaze over to her, expression carefully blank.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she began, looking and sounding guilty enough that his anger softened a little and he gave her his full attention. Sango glanced at him and grimaced. “You’re right, I know you would never do that. It was stupid.”

He snorted but her glare quickly shut him up.

“It’s just...” Sango sighed again and pushed her fingers through her bangs, brow furrowing as she gathered her thoughts. “You have to understand, Inuyasha, Kagome is...fragile. I was honestly surprised when she told me she signed up for this competition because she...well, she...”

“She has no confidence,” Inuyasha supplied for her and at her look of surprise he sighed and nodded. “I already know she has low self-esteem and thinks its necessary to hide behind baggy clothes. It’s another reason why I chose to do this, Sango. I wanna help her. Really. Kagome is fucking beautiful and I want her to see that.”

He stared directly into her eyes and the sincerity was unmistakable in the honeyed depths. Inuyasha was being totally and completely honest and if Sango were being honest herself, she was floored at the hanyou’s dedication to this cause. It was one she approved of, definitely, but in all of her years as his closest friend, she’d never witnessed him going this far for any woman before.

And with a start, she realized that he was exactly what her shy, self-conscious friend needed. Inuyasha’s unique brand of arrogance, dedication and tenacity would no doubt draw Kagome out of her shell and slowly transform her into the confident, brave woman Sango knew she could be.

Sango would just consider it a bonus that Kagome was also just what the doctor ordered for the oftentimes hotheaded hanyou, even if he didn’t realize it yet.

Finally offering her friend a genuine smile, Sango nodded once. “Keep me posted?” she asked. “And if there’s anything I can do to help, I’ll do my best.”

Releasing a breath, Inuyasha nodded in return and thrust a hand through his hair, glancing at the clock. 12:28. He still had a bit of time left before Daddy’s Little Princess showed up, so in the mean time he had one last question for his friend.

“Hey, Sango,” he began, idly tracing the cap of his coffee with a claw as the instructor glanced over at him inquisitively. “...Why is Kagome like that? Did something happen?”

Sango sighed and took another drink of her frappe, brows dipped down into a slight frown. She’d had a feeling he’d ask, and while she supposed he had a right to know since he was going to help with Kagome’s self-image, it didn’t make it any easier to reveal. Perhaps Kagome herself should be the one telling him this, but Sango also knew it wouldn’t be right for him to ask, and her friend wouldn’t reveal that information to him without cause anyway.

“It goes without saying,” she began slowly, “but please keep this to yourself. Kagome hasn’t always looked the way she does, Inuyasha. When she was in elementary school, before I met her, she was chubby and mercilessly picked on because of it. She told me she didn’t have a lot of friends because of how she looked, and it only got worse when she entered middle school. She gained a little more weight, and the bullying got worse, to the point she would refuse to go to school the next day.

“The day I met her she was surrounded by high school boys and they were calling her names, bullying her about her weight, and laughing because she was crying. I managed to chase them away by screaming for the nearest teacher and threatening to kick them in the balls if they didn’t leave her alone and ever since then Kagome has been my best friend. I became her protector against the bullies and it wasn’t until Kagome’s appearance started to hinder her health that she decided to do something about it.

“She started exercising daily, with me being her constant support of course, eating healthier, and taking care of her body. By high school she looked like a completely different person, a lot like she does now, and that’s when she got her first boyfriend.”

Inuyasha frowned. “Houjo.”

Sango blinked in surprise. “She told you about him?”

He shrugged. “In passing. She didn’t give any details and I didn’t ask.”

“Anyway,” she continued and took a sip of her drink to wet her throat. “Dating Houjo helped a lot with Kagome’s self-esteem, but even he couldn’t erase the scars from years of bullying. And even though they parted on friendly terms because it was a mutual breakup, Kagome regressed back to her previous way of thinking and now it’s just a subconscious habit to dress in baggy clothes and deny any compliment that’s given to her, an instinctive way of protecting herself, I imagine. I’m always telling her she looks great, but she just blushes, shrugs, and changes the subject.”

Sango sighed and chewed on the end of her straw with a thoughtful frown. “She’s still eating healthy and exercising when she can, but you have to understand, Inuyasha, after years of being called degrading names, bullied because of how she looked, and believing she was ugly or didn’t deserve affection, I’d imagine it’d be quite difficult to accept any sort of praise, even if it’s true. She’s been cruelly conditioned to think like that, and without Houjo there as a constant reminder that she’s worthy and beautiful...”

She paused and stole a look at her unusually quiet half-demon boss and friend. Inuyasha was staring down at his desk, claws tapping against the thick paper of his coffee cup as he drummed his fingers. It was hard to determine what exactly the prevalent emotion on his face was, however judging by the dark frown that gradually lowered his brows over his eyes and the way his lip curled over sharp fangs, Sango wagered that anger had reigned supreme.

Relatable. Sango often felt the same whenever she thought about how rough her best friend had had it and the desire to go back in time and kick some ass was always present.

But then it vanished as quickly as it had arrived and Inuyasha shook his head, closing his eyes as he thrust a hand through his hair. It was obvious he was still perturbed at this new information however, because though less prominent, the frown on his face hadn’t diminished and he sat back in his chair. The rough grunt he emitted as he lifted his coffee to his lips articulated exactly what he thought about that and Sango nodded.

“Same,” she agreed.

Translation: I don’t fucking like this.

Then he sighed, nodded, and cut his eyes to hers with the steely determination that Sango recognized and her expression softened into a smile as she easily decoded what that meant.

But I’m gonna do my damnedest to fix it.

“Good,” Sango whispered and by mutual agreement, the two lapsed into silence as Inuyasha finished off his coffee and dumped the evidence of his lunch into the trash while Sango noisily and obnoxiously slurped up the remnants of her frappe.

Inuyasha’s ears pinned and he pegged her with an annoyed glare. She returned it with an innocent smile and while keeping eye contact, drew on the straw one last time, resulting in another grating slurping sound. He scowled at her.

Visibly pleased and resisting the urge to cackle, Sango sucked up the last of the tasty caramel before finally tossing it into the trash. Inuyasha rolled his eyes and dug around in his desk for his cigs and lighter, lamenting on the fact that his friends and instructors were children in adult bodies.

“By the way,” Sango said as she prepared to leave, “you’re one o’clock is here.”

Inuyasha paused and aimed a frown at her. “How the hell do you know?”

She smiled sweetly. “I saw her waiting in the lobby when I got back from getting your lunch. She was quite rude and demanded that I ‘fetch Mr. Taisho tout de suite, he’s expecting me and I mustn’t keep him waiting.’ So I gave her my murder-smile and said, ‘Right away, miss,’ then came up here and had a half-hour conversation with you.”

Her boss stared at her blankly for a moment and then a delighted grin spread across his face. “You are a fucking queen.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Sango quipped with a wink and headed for the door.

Inuyasha snorted and looked at the clock. From what Sango told him, Miss Daddy’s Princess must have gotten here shortly after he did, nearly a fucking hour early. What the actual fuck.

Growling in annoyance but figuring he might as well get it over with, he grunted and said, “Send her up.”

“I’m not your secretary,” Sango snorted as she reached the door and swung it open.

“I’m sorry, who signs your paychecks?”

“Asshat.”

“Bitch.”

“That’s Queen Bitch, thankyouverymuch.” Sango flipped him off and Inuyasha returned the gesture, straight-faced.

Rolling her eyes and grumbling, his friend finally left his office, but Inuyasha didn’t fail to miss the smile that crept onto her face right before the door closed behind her.

Chuckling, Inuyasha shook his head and wondered not for the first time how such a sorry son of a bitch like him lucked out with such amazing friends before once more rifling through his desk for his nicotine sticks. He ended up finding them on his desk under a pile of paperwork along with his lighter and he wasted no time in lighting up.

The sound of the elevator chiming outside his office was his only warning and he just barely managed to shove his hat down onto his head before his door was unceremoniously thrust open and his one o’clock appointment sauntered in without a care in the word. Inuyasha cocked a brow at her audacity at not bothering to knock before barging in but said nothing, leaning back in his chair and peering at the woman that strolled confidently toward him from under the bill of his hat.

Crossing his arms, the cherry of his cig flared orange as he inhaled and Inuyasha watched Miss Daddy’s Princess give him her best beauty pageant smile that he bet she practiced doing in front of a mirror and claimed one of the plush chairs before his desk. He first thing he noticed was that her tits were so full of silicone they could be considered paperweights and when she not so subtly thrust out her chest, they threatened to spill from her very low cut blouse. Christ, the buttons looked about ready to burst open and Inuyasha nearly choked on smoke as he disguised a laugh.

“Mr. Taisho,” she purred, crossing her legs at the knee and causing her short skirt to ride up either further. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I was here nearly half an hour ago, but that bi—uh, that lady made me wait.” She huffed and pretended to pout.

Inuyasha didn’t deign that with a comment and took in the rest of her, releasing a stream of smoke in a smooth exhale. Tanning salon worthy dark skin, long brown hair with so much product in it stung his nose, and the greenest eyes he had ever seen.

Contacts, he surmised and flicked the ashes off his cig into an ashtray. She was pretty, he’d give her that, but in an artificial way and he was willing to bet her personality was just as fake as those rock hard bags on her chest. She knew how to manipulate a situation and what to say to get what she wanted, but that was okay. Inuyasha had dealt with countless women like her before so he was prepared for whatever she threw at him.

“Miss...Soma, was it?” Inuyasha drawled and stuck his fag between his lips again.

She smiled again, perfect white teeth flashing. Of course.

“Call me Kamlyn, Mr. Taisho.”

Inuyasha choked on his next inhale and surged forward, blindly reaching for the half-full bottle of water sitting on his desk.

He lied. He certainly hadn’t been prepared for that.

Kamlyn Soma, the bitch that had apparently been tormenting Kagome for the past three years, blinked and frowned at him.

“Are you...okay?” she asked and actually sounded genuinely concerned.

Chugging back the contents of the bottle, Inuyasha held up a finger in the universal “one moment” signal and after successfully soothing the irritant in his throat, he lowered the water and released a loud breath.

“M’fine,” he finally answered and looked around for his cig, scowling when he found it on the floor by his feet. Grumbling he stooped down to pick it up before settling back in his chair, inspecting it carefully.

Eh, whatever; he gave a mental shrug and placed it between his lips again. He didn’t want to waste a perfectly good cig he’d just started and besides, his office was vacuumed daily and shampooed monthly from the same company he hired to clean the studios.

Remembering he had an audience, Inuyasha turned his attention back to the woman before him. She was still eyeing him a little strangely but wiped the expression from her face when his eyes connected with hers, straightening her back and offering him another practiced smile.

“What can I do for you, Miss Soma?”

“Kamlyn.”

He stared at her and wordlessly opened his mouth to let a few tendrils of smoke drift lazily upward.

Undeterred, Miss Kamlyn Soma, aka Kagome’s Tormenter, cleared her throat and launched into an entire spiel that Inuyasha was positive she practiced for hours beforehand, complete with the sultry lilt to her voice.

“So, Mr. Taisho, I have a...proposition for you.” Her smile turned rather suggestive and she leaned forward in her seat, deliberately showing a generous amount of cleavage. “You see, my school is having a dance competition...”

Eighteen minutes later, lazily puffing away on his second cigarette without a damn care in the world, Inuyasha watched in unabashed amusement as Kamlyn Soma stormed out of his office, face beat red and body stiff with anger. Aside from an ear flicking beneath his hat when she slammed his door as hard as she could, he didn’t react and merely tapped more ashes into the ashtray, calm as you please.

Her less than stellar behavior had been entirely expected. When her methods of seduction had failed to garner what she wanted – i.e., assistance in planning a show-stopping routine – she’d thrown a tantrum and resorted to threatening him with her daddy’s money and power. Inuyasha had been unimpressed – Ryukotsusei Soma couldn’t do shit to him – and once more turned her down with the true reasoning of he was too busy.

He’d been professional and polite, keeping his tone respectful even when her calm composure had begun to deteriorate and she’d tried one last tactic, desperation causing her to lose all pretenses of seduction and outright promising him that she’d give him the ride of his life if only he would agree to help. She’d pay him generously of course, implying that money would not be the only means, but when still he’d replied in the negative, even looking bored while he said it, that was when she’d dropped her façade and her viper attitude had shown its fangs.

Inuyasha had merely watched, face blank, as she’d ranted and raved at him for a good five minutes, threatening that she would destroy his reputation and pretty much throwing a little spoiled princess hissy fit before huffily stomping away and childishly slamming the door in her wake.

Fuck, but Ryukotsusei must have the patience of a goddamn saint to put up with that every day.

Snorting, Inuyasha carelessly tossed his hat onto his desk, freeing his ears, and reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. Waking up the screen, he was a little disappointed to see the text he’d received earlier wasn’t from Kagome, but then again, it wasn’t that surprising. Considering how insecure and shy she was, it was a given she wouldn’t text him first, probably thinking she’d be bothering him or something and not wanting to be a nuisance. He hoped soon she’d be comfortable enough to text him whenever she wanted, but for now he was content to initiate their conversations.

Ignoring the message from Kikyou telling him to call her later, Inuyasha brought the text he’d sent from Kagome’s phone last night and swiftly typed in a new message.

you’ll never guess who I just had the pleasure of meeting with and then stormed outta my office looking pissed enough to commit murder

He hit send, paused, and then sent a second one. mine, specifically

Expecting it might be a while before she replied since he had no idea what her class schedule entailed, Inuyasha flipped up his laptop and decided it’d be a good idea to actually get some work done. He needed to check his emails, reply back to some if necessary, call and check in with a few of his clients, call Kikyou, draw up some contracts, review and sign a few contracts, file said contracts, go over payroll and yell at Miroku for his frequent habit of coming in late, and then go over some reports that were past due.

Fuck my life, he groused, grumbling as he brought up his email, crushing the stub of his cigarette in the ashtray and lighting up a fresh one. He stared longingly at his office’s custom bar he’d added in some years back but thought better of it. Sango would kill him if she caught him drinking in the middle of the day, no matter how justifiable it was after putting up with someone like Kamlyn Soma for nearly twenty minutes, and he was pretty sure he’d finished his JD last week anyway.

Shame.

He wasn’t even half-way through reading his second email when his phone buzzed beside his computer. Surprised, but delighted, Inuyasha abandoned the email to swipe up the device and lean back in his chair to read his newest text.

????

He snorted even as the corners of his lips quirked up into a slight grin.

A one kamlyn soma maybe you’ve heard of her

Her reply was instant that time.

GET. OUT!!!!!!!!!

Inuyasha laughed.

srsly. tried seducing her way into getting me to help w her dance was hilarious

Taking a drag, Inuyasha exhaled through the side of his mouth and idly tapped this thumb against the screen as he waited for her to reply. The three dots appeared, vanished, appeared, and then disappeared again and he frowned when it stayed that way. He narrowed his eyes, and then to keep himself from asking what the hell she was doing, he closed the app and after thinking about it for a split second, brought up Facebook.

He brought up his friends, found Sango, and browsed her friends until—ah. There she was.

Grinning victoriously and with a single tap, he brought up Kagome Higurashi’s profile and took his time going through her timeline, chuckling at some of the memes and pictures she’d shared that gave him a glimpse into her sense of humor. Then he came across a selfie of her and Sango, looking positively radiant as they laughed together, and his expression softened.

Truly, how could she ever think that she wasn’t pretty with something like this as proof?

He’d just decided to browse her albums to see what other gems he could find when finally his mobile vibrated with an incoming message. And instead of the lengthy reply he’d been expecting because she was taking so long, the notification that dropped down had his brows snapping low over his eyes in an annoyed frown.

You agreed??

Ears pinning flat against his head and growling low, Inuyasha gripped his phone with both hands and hastily typed out his response, pissed the hell off that she actually had to fucking ask that in the first place.

what the fuck kagome NO I didn’t agree u don’t fucking think I would actual

Inuyasha stopped mid-word. Blinked down at his phone and reread what he’d typed. Then he sighed, briefly closed his eyes, and promptly deleted everything he’d written before starting again.

no babydoll. I didn’t my time is yours

He hit send and dragged a hand down his face as his previous anger quickly fled. Kagome was insecure and Kamlyn was her hot, although still fake as fuck, enemy; it wasn’t farfetched that she’d assume he would agree. He was a businessman, and what businessman didn’t want…well, more business? He’d have to keep reminding himself that Kagome was just acting on instinct, doing what her brain had been unconsciously hardwired to do, and he’d definitely have to start exercising more restraint.

It was like Sango said; Kagome as fragile, or at least her state of mind was, and Inuyasha knew if he directed one of his infamous blowups at her, it would cause more damage than he could repair. And he’d never be able to forgive himself.

Blessedly her reply came much quicker this time around and glancing down at the mobile cradled in his lax grip, he released a breath and was suddenly infinitely glad he’d decided to change his last message.

Grinning, Inuyasha sent the dog emoji back, practically able to hear the giggle he knew it would elicit, and then grudgingly put down his cell to actually get some work done. In a significantly lighter mood than before, he went back to his email, unaware of the smile that lingered on his face as he scanned the page.

Part 3

Buy me a coffee? :)

#move your body #part 2 #inuyasha #kagome #inukag #keizfanfiction #fanfiction

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40ozandsober · 5 years

Text

Bottom of a Swimming Pool

ch 2; You Remind Me of Home

— A/N —

general tw + tw for m*lestation mention!! heavily implicated, with no direct details. be careful <3

— END OF A/N —

— Childhood Flashbacks: Age 13 —

When Charlie was 13, his mom was running out of money quickly. She wasn’t making enough from the men who would come visit their house every week and she just needed help paying the rent for a little bit. Because of this, Bonnie let her brother, Jack, rent out the guest bedroom in her house. Uncle Jack made Charlie uncomfortable and he found himself unable to sleep most nights, because he never knew if Jack was going to come to his room. Some nights Jack did, and those were the worst of all. Charlie tried telling his mom, but Bonnie didn’t listen, so Charlie was stuck.

Charlie didn’t know how to talk to Mac about it. He knew they were best friends and would help each other through everything, but he didn’t know how he was going to say the horrible things he had been through. All he told Mac was that he couldn’t handle sleeping at his house anymore and Mac immediately made an important decision.

“Mom, my friend Charlie is gonna start spending the night a lot. Is that okay?” Mac asked his mom one morning before school, even though she was drunk and probably wouldn’t even remember the conversation.

“I don’t give a shit,” Mrs. Mac mumbled, groaning. Mac took that as a yes and told Charlie the very same day that he could pack up some clothes, bring a toothbrush, and stay at his house as long as he wanted.

“Thanks, man. I just.. I don’t want to go home anymore. I can’t.” Charlie was tearing up, which automatically rubbed Mac the wrong way. He knew something was wrong at Charlie’s house, but he just couldn’t get Charlie to tell him what. He knew not to push the boy anymore and just accepted that he didn’t fully understand what was happening.

The next day, Charlie spent the night at Mac’s house. He stayed there for a week at a time typically, then spent a night at his own house so his mom didn’t get worried. This cycle repeated for a long time. The only downside to it was Charlie’s nightmares.

It took awhile for Mac to get used to the screaming, whimpering, and crying Charlie did during his sleep. Charlie would sob, wake Mac up yelling, and scream for hours sometimes. Mac didn’t know how to make it stop, but one morning he finally told Charlie about it waking him up some nights.

When Mac was making breakfast for the two of them, Charlie walked in and sat down. “Hey buddy. Can we talk?” Mac asked, which immediately made Charlie’s blood run cold. He was used to losing people in his life or being hurt by those he loved, but he never wanted Mac to be one of those people.

“Sure, did I do something?” Charlie stammered out, riddled with anxiety already.

“No, not at all. You’re good, bro. I just wanted to talk to you about your nightmares.” Mac explained. Somehow, that made Charlie even more anxious. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to tell Mac what his uncle had done to him for many nights, but maybe it was time.

He started to reply to Mac, but Mac continued on. “You don’t have to tell me everything about them and what happens in them. You don’t even have to tell me why they happen. It’s okay, I understand how tough things can be. I just wanted to tell you that when you have them, if they wake you up and you can’t go back to sleep or feel scared and upset, wake me up. Please.”

Charlie didn’t really know what to say to that. Nobody had ever cared for him the way Mac cared for him, so this was uncharted territory for him. Instead of saying anything back, he just nodded his head. Mac knew what that meant from him, so he dropped the subject. They ate their breakfast, got ready for school, and got on the bus. Charlie prepared himself for the mean comments about his lack of self hygiene while Mac prepared himself to fight the kids being rude to his best friend. Just like every day.

All they ever needed was each other. Mac protected Charlie, Charlie protected Mac. They were the only people that mattered.

A few weeks after they had that conversation, Mac woke up by being shaken vigorously. Charlie was crying, more than Mac had ever seen. He was panting, like he couldn’t catch his breath, and Mac immediately jumped to protection mode.

“Charlie? Charlie, buddy. You’re okay. What’s wrong? What happened?” Mac rushed out, and Charlie tried to stop sobbing, tried being the key term. He just kept crying and shaking. Mac went to hug Charlie and hold him, and the boy backed away quickly. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Mac said softly, but Charlie shut him up by moving in closer.

“I need a hug. A Mac hug. That’s all.” Charlie sniffled. It was hard for him to accept physical affection, but he knew he could trust his best friend.

Mac didn’t even reply. He just wrapped his arms around Charlie and held tightly. Something was different about this hug. Something was softer about Charlie, warmer about Mac.

Mac moved his arms a little bit and laid back, letting Charlie relax and lay on him. One of Mac’s hands found its way in Charlie’s hair and played with it softly. It was weird. Mac thought Charlie’s hair would be oily and tough, but it was the exact opposite.

They laid like that for a little bit, until Charlie began to talk. “Can I tell you something? I think I’m ready to talk about it.” The boy asked Mac, to which Mac nodded his head softly.

Charlie spent the rest of the night recounting everything that had happened to him in his bedroom when his mom went to bed. Mac didn’t judge him and he didn’t accuse him of lying. He just sat there and listened, despite the fact that his blood was boiling at the idea of somebody hurting Charlie.

All Mac wanted to do was protect his favorite person in the whole world, and he hadn’t been doing that, but he was now, by not letting Charlie go home anymore. Charlie was safe. Mac was going to protect him and keep him safe from Jack, forever and always.

— End of Flashback: 29 Years Later —

Charlie woke up from a really terrible nightmare. He didn’t have them often anymore, but sometimes he couldn’t help but dream of things that had happened to him when he was younger. He knew he was safe from everything now, but God, sometimes the dreams were so realistic. Normally, he could pick one thing in the nightmares that was completely fake and different from real life, so he could separate himself from it entirely. The nightmare he had just had, though, was completely true to real life.

It had been a long time since he had had to call Mac about a nightmare, but this one was something he just couldn’t handle by himself. Of course, Mac answered the phone and immediately offered to use Dennis’s car to come pick him up, so they could hang out.

Less than half an hour later, Mac was at Charlie’s apartment. As soon as Charlie walked out his apartment and locked the door shut behind him, Mac engulfed him in a massive hug. Charlie’s body was tiny compared to Mac’s, so when they hugged, it made Charlie giggle a little, which Mac adored.

Neither of them really spoke about how they felt when they were together, because there was no need anymore. They both knew the truth about what was going on between them, but neither of them ever mentioned it.

Mac had finally come out and began to accept himself as gay, whereas Charlie had always known he liked men and women. It was hard for Charlie to be with either, especially sexually, because of his being transgender, but with Mac, it was different.

Mac drove them back to his apartment and they went into his room, laying down, finally able to relax. Charlie cuddled up against Mac, Mac’s arms wrapped around his waist.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I’m tired of thinking about it. I just want to lie here with you.” Charlie responded, turning his body around to face Mac. He slowly moved his hand to Mac’s hair, kissing him on the forehead.

It had taken Mac awhile to be okay with kissing when they were sober. They still hadn’t gone any further than cuddling and kissing sometimes, but sometimes Mac thought about it. He knew he wanted Charlie, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready, especially to do anything while sober. Mac knew he was gay, he had known that his whole life, but it was taking longer for him to actually act on it.

Charlie understood that, of course. If anybody understood not being ready for romantic and physical affection, it was him. Neither of them pushed one another, and that was sort of what made it perfect. Regardless, they enjoyed their time together.

Mac held onto Charlie and kissed him softly, mumbling something under his breath.

“What was that?” Charlie asked.

“Nothin’. Mind your business.” Mac replied, smiling at his best friend. Charlie knew what Mac had said, but neither of them were willing to admit how they felt. “I love you” was too real to be said yet, and both of them understood that. The feeling was mutual, though. It had taken years for them to realize it fully, but they knew now.

They fell asleep like that, in each other’s arms. When Mac woke up, he made sure to be careful and not wake Charlie up. He went into the living room, where Dennis was already awake, watching TV.

“You guys need to stop fucking at our apartment,” Dennis chuckled, knowing it would piss Mac off. Mac hated how Dennis joked about their lives, but he couldn’t tell him that. He had gotten used to Dennis’s gross comments, but sometimes, it made him angry for Charlie.

He didn’t appreciate people mentioning sex about Charlie. It rubbed him the wrong way, but instead of getting mad, he just went and made breakfast.

Sometimes, Mac just wished Dennis would stop. Dennis seemed jealous of Charlie, almost, which made no sense to Mac. Because of his past with Den, he didn’t think he was even into him, but maybe that wasn’t true. Mac didn’t know. Maybe he just didn’t want to know.

He hated what he had done to Charlie in the past when it came to Dennis, so he didn’t think he even cared about what Den thought now. He just wanted to be happy with Charlie. That was all he really wanted from the world now. Dennis had messed up his relationship with Charlie in the past, but he’d never allow that to happen again.

Charlie had woken up and smiled at Mac who was busy making pancakes. Mac wasn’t the best cook, so many of the pancakes ended up burnt and in the trash, but Charlie enjoyed the thought that went into it. They ate their breakfast, then got ready for work.

Charlie kissed Mac one last time before they left the apartment, knowing they couldn’t do it again until they had left Paddy’s that night. Dennis might have made jokes about Charlie and Mac being together, but the two of them still hadn’t confirmed it to the gang. They didn't know how to fully tell the other three.

Of course, they all knew, just based off the longing looks that passed between Charlie and Mac at Paddy’s and when the gang worked on their numerous schemes, but the couple was afraid to fully come out and just say it. That would take awhile for them to admit, and it was tougher than they thought it would be.

Charlie hated having to hide it. He felt inadequate, but he knew it was a senseless fear of abandonment and betrayal that stemmed from his past that made him overthink it.

He never told Mac how it made him feel, because he didn’t want to push the love of his life away. He just glanced at Mac throughout the day, a glimmer of hope and absolute adoration in his eye. Then, when they were alone, they’d kiss and cuddle for hours on end, or until they had to be around others again. Maybe one day, they could be open about their relationship.

Charlie just stayed by Mac’s side and waited for that day to come. He would wait forever if he needed to, because Charlie knew what he wanted forever. All he wanted was Mac. It had always been Mac.

#charmac #iasip #mac iasip #macdennis #mac mcdonald #charlie kelly #trans!charlie #trans charlie kelly #its always sunny #its always sunny in philadelphia #40ozoffanfic

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ineffablecolors · 5 years

Note

Part 3 with Hook and Emma in MAC!!!!

yeah, couldn’t be avoided :D part 1 & 2

He was cautiously excited about their outing. He was a fool. In more ways than one.

Killian was a fool to think he can remain cool and collected until he ascertains the direction this day is to go in. That becomes glaringly obvious the second he spots Swan and her mother.

He is meeting Emma on one of her days off, in a very public place, for all the world to see, for her mother to see. If Snow’s face is anything to go by, the strangeness and significance of it hasn’t escaped her notice either.

It is entirely possible it has escaped Emma’s, however, based on the flippant way she bids him hello and her mother farewell before she more or less drags him away.

Physical contact has been added to the public setting. So much for his collectedness.

So he is a fool to think he can treat this as nothing of importance. Frankly, Killian can live with that just fine. He does live with that just fine for the next half an hour - as Emma announces they are taking a detour for some frozen yogurt (frozen yogurt he discovers is not nearly as foreign in taste and texture as he would have assumed from the brightly coloured containers it comes in and the variety is not nearly as daunting when Emma turns out to have some very strong opinions about which flavours she likes and some stronger still about which ones he will like) and then as she finally points out their destination (a brightly lit market the size of which Killian cannot believe has been designated to sell such small products as the kohl they are looking for), and as they come to stand between multiple shelves and mirrors and under rather unflattering lighting that makes him frown and inspect his reflection closer while Emma starts grabbing half a dozen different black sticks that he is to try out and waves away a bubby shopping assistant that is looking at him with obvious interest and surprise.

Killian is still mostly focused on the brightly lit mirrors. He has never seen the thin hairs between his brows, the small spots on his nose, the reddish hairs in his beard or the thin lines around his eyes and mouth so clearly in all his life. It’s still a rather handsome sight, if he does say so himself, but he feels unnervingly exposed and judged under the overly bright lights. He wonders if there is a product for every single imperfection he will find, if he inspects his features long enough. He doesn’t particularly want to find out.

“Alright, let’s start with a basic eye pencil.”

Emma uncaps one of the pencils in question and hands it to him. There is a little sound of semi-realization and then he sees her reach for him again from the corner of his eye but her hands flutter around and away quickly when she realizes that he is already applying the black line, keeping the stick between his thumb and forefinger and his eye open with his pinkie. Killian would give a decent amount of gold to know if she meant to do the task for him even while he is torn about whether the idea touches or annoys him.

He has been using the stuff one-handed longer than she has been alive. And, unwilling as he is to admit it sometimes, like much else in this land, this pencil of hers is much easier to use.

It’s only after he has executed (rather well, he thinks) the desired lines under both his eyes, feeling her own on him the whole time, that something almost physical shifts and Killian finds himself a whole other kind of fool – one that he most certainly minds being.

“That’s good. I’ll show you some of the liquid ones.”

As Emma’s eyes skid away and stay away much longer than the selection in front of her can require and her shoulders seem to tense up and her back straighten rigidly, Killian sighs and curses himself for thinking this little excursion could go swimmingly the whole way through.

No, of course not, of course Emma has to pull away before he has even given her a legitimate reason to.

He tries a few more of the eyeliners that she offers him but her eyes only take in his handiwork long enough to proclaim the results better or worse than the previous ones and her words have become limited to explaining what she is handing him. It’s five different products later that he finally grows tired of it.

If this is to be how they interact on her days off, in public, he’d almost rather have her only a couple of times a week, in private. Almost. But almost feels like enough right now and after one more non-committal hum from Emma, Killian turns on his heel and strides towards the large glass doors.

“Wha- Hook? Hey!”

He hears her indignant call behind him but doesn’t stop, not until he feels her hand close over his arm and forcefully turn him around.

“What the hell?” Emma’s eyes stay on him longer than they have for the last twenty minutes. “I still had one more thing for you to try. Plus, we still have to pay for these.”

She indicates the two eyeliners she deemed best and Killian pulls one of her own tricks and rolls his eyes heavenward.

“Forget the kohl, Swan. I have my own.”

“I thought you were running lo—“

“I thought you were the one who proposed this little trip. I thought you wanted to do this.”

“What are you talking about?”

Her confusion only chaffs further against his irritation.

“I didn’t force you to come here with me, Emma.”

“Who said you did?”

“Well, you’ve been acting like you’re being subjected to the experience so I believe we should just cut it short.”

“I’m not— Why would you—“

“I don’t know,” he drawls sarcastically. “Maybe it’s your impressive conversation skills or your admirable dedication to not looking in my direction.”

He expects a rebuke. He doesn’t expect a flush.

“I wasn’t—“ Emma cuts herself off and shakes her head and he can literally see her trying to regain the upper hand. “Look, I’m fine. I’m not being subjected to anything, let me just pay for these and we can—“

“I’d rather leave, if you won’t tell what’s making you so uncomfortable.”

“It’s not something you can help,” she mutters and he feels himself falter a little.

“What isn’t?”

“Your face,” the words are petulant and quiet and he is half-certain she did not mean to let them out.

“What’s wrong with my face?”

Yes, the lighting in the place is horrendous but he doesn’t think it revealed anything that off-putting. He resists the urge to look around for one of the numerous mirrors.

“Nothing!”

That part is not quiet at all and definitely petulant, almost exasperated. He freezes and then feels his shoulder relax, his lips twitch.

“Swan, were you stuck dumb by my dashing good looks?”

“You’re pretty, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Pretty?”

He doesn’t think the term overly flattering but then he also doesn’t think something that wasn’t that big of a deal would make her avoid looking at him so resolutely.

“Yes. Alright? Can I pay and then we can go and you can gloat all the way to the docks?”

He doesn’t think “pretty” strong enough to hold over her and he doubts gloating will earn him anything, especially when she has already declared that she is coming back to his ship.

But once in his bed, under the much more pleasant glow of the half moon and the dozen candles scatter around his cabin, the way her lips glide over the line of his nose and her fingers keep going back over his brows and cheeks, he thinks “pretty” is quite alright with him.

#think this will be it :D #captain swan #cs ff #cs prompts #eyeliner fic

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mackdaddynate · 5 years

Text

fall in deep part 2- nathan mackinnon

A/N: this is pure fluff again, soft nate is all that matters to me ok

WC: 1.5K

You paced around your apartment, trying to figure out what the hell to make for dinner that wasn’t boxed mac and cheese for the third day in a row. You sighed and flopped down on the couch, deciding whether you wanted to order food or just save the cash right as your phone buzzed.

Nate: Wanna get food or something?

Y/N: idk, kinda already have a date with my couch... or something

You sat there grinning, thinking about how great it was that Nate actually liked you. You had always loved teasing him, but now you got to make out with him too, so you pretty much had the perfect setup.

Nate: cmon, we haven’t even been on a real date yet, your hungover ass spending the entire day in my bed doesn’t count :///

Y/N: Fineee, come pick me up in like 15?

And now you were blushing like it was middle school or something, immediately texting Layna about your date.

Layna: omg Y/N, grumpy Nate has such a soft spot for you. Wrap it before you tap it ;)

Y/N: hahah you’re the worst, ok I gotta go get ready!!

After a few minutes of trying to make yourself look a little less tired, there was a knock at your door.

“Hey, you,” Nate flashed you a smile as you leaned in to give him a hug.

“Not to be dramatic, but I kinda missed you.”

“Pshh, you’re always dramatic, but I kinda missed you too,” he said, laughing. “Tacos?”

“You read my mind, MacK.” You were so drawn to him it wasn’t even funny, and you were debating reaching for his hand before he set it on your waist and guided you out of the building.

“Oh, so you do this when I’m not blackout drunk too?” you looked up at him, feeling giggly and warm against the cool spring air.

Nate shrugged, “It’s hard to keep my hands off of you.”

“Then don’t,” you smirked. “Just keep it family-friendly when we’re in public, Nathan.” That earned you an eye-roll, and then you both cracked up.

Dinner was gone as soon as it started. Nate was scarfing down tacos while you told him about the research you’d been helping with and and all of the stupid things you and Layna had done in the past week; you were scarfing down tacos while Nate was being way too humble about the ridiculous season he’d been having.

“I’ll go cheer you on sometime, make you a sign or something. I’m literally going to be such a nervous wreck every time you get hit though.”

“You can wear my jersey, how cute would that be? God damn Y/N, you’re gonna be the best hockey girlfri-” he paused. “Are we doing the girlfriend thing? Like, can I call you that? I know it’s only been one date but...” he trailed off.

“Why not? You’re the only person I can see myself with right now anyways,” you replied.

“Me too.”

Your legs were tangled together with Nate’s under the table because in reality, you couldn’t keep yourself away from him either. You both blushed when your waitress pointed out how you two were just so adorable, but you figured she was kind of right.

Nate picked up the check, even though you protested, telling you that the least he could do for not asking you out sooner was buy you some tacos.

Neither you or Nate were particularly extroverted, but conversation was so easy with him. It felt so much more comfortable than with other guys you’d dated. And you hated that you already felt so clingy towards Nate, but he was acting the same way. Maybe this was what you both got for those three years of suppressed feelings.

“Ugh, so you’re really going to be gone for the entire weekend for hockey? How am I supposed to keep myself entertained?”

He laughed at that, “You’ll probably just drunk snapchat me the whole time. But if you’re up for it tonight, you should come over for a bit. You know, to make up for this weekend.”

“Ok I might end up falling asleep on you, but I can’t turn that offer down.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he countered.

The two of you decided to put on a movie. You intentionally sat down just close enough to Nate to be touching. You were barely through the opening scene when you felt his hand sliding up your thigh.

“Couldn’t even make it five minutes in huh?” you said, while looking up at him.

“Well,” he bit his lip, “maybe if you weren’t sitting there teasing me.”

“Me? Teasing?” you feigned offense.

“Sitting this close to me and trying way too hard to focus on the movie? While looking that good? Definitely teasing, Y/N.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Fine,” you said, closing what little gap there was between you and practically sitting in his lap as you leaned in for a kiss. You started the kiss slowly, wrapping your hands around his neck. Nate followed suit, one hand running through your hair and the other squeezing on your upper thigh.

He deepened the kiss, speeding up a bit. You’d kissed Nate before, but that was in the morning when your head was pounding from the mistakes of the night before. But this time felt different, fiery and a bit hungry. And honestly? You’d be perfectly content to just sit there and make out with him for like, hours, which was weird. Your roommate had told you that one of her hookups had “the lips of an angel,” which was hilarious, but now you were beginning to understand it.

Nate squeezed harder on your thigh, causing you to whimper. You looked him up and down, swollen lips and his dark eyes locked on you. He pulled you back in quickly, moving his hands under your sweatshirt and settling at the clasp of your bra. And as you were thinking about how ridiculously turned on you were, Nate pulled away, leaving you looking at him with puppy dog eyes.

“Uh, sorry, I think we should probably go to my room so Tyson doesn’t walk in on us like this.”

Right. Roommates.

You laughed, following him back to his room, “Bold of you to assume that I’m the type to fuck on the first date. I will gladly crash here though, you’ve got a pretty good mattress.”

Nate gave you a look, but couldn’t keep himself from grinning, “God, you’re such a tool.”

“Yeah, but I’m your tool,” you said, grinning back as Nate laid down, gesturing for you to come join him.

You did just that, rolling over to be closer to him as the two of you alternated between making out and talking about life until your eyes started to feel heavy.

_________

You woke up to laughter from the kitchen. Those boys. You sighed, rolling over and wishing for 10 more minutes of sleep. If it wasn’t for recent events with Nate, you’d probably believe it if he told you that he was dating Tyson. They acted like an old married couple, even more so than you and Layna.

You slipped out of Nate’s big t-shirt you’d worn as pajamas, and back into your leggings and one of his hoodies. The hockey team gave him so many, the least you could do was take a few of them off his hands. At least, that’s the excuse you gave Nate.

“Morning babe,” Nate said as you walked into the kitchen. You gave him a half awake smile and a kiss on the cheek.

“Okay, so you guys are disgusting. Y/N, or should I say new roommate, are you going to start paying me for rent or...” said Tyson, in a way that only he could. Nate was making himself coffee as you sat down on the stool next to Tyson.

“At least let me have some food or something before you start attacking me.”

“Nate makes a mean omelette, but the rule is that I get omelette priority over girls.”

“Nate can cook?” you asked, genuinely surprised since your expectations for college boys were quite low.

“Not at all, he’s only figured out omelettes so far,” Tyson said as the two of you shared a laugh.

“I’m so glad the two of you can bond at my expense,” Nate scowled, coming up behind you to rub your back anyways. You looked up at him and had to use all of the willpower you had not to kiss him.

“You guys are like a fucking Hallmark movie,” Tyson huffed.

“Don’t you have to like, pack or something?” Nate chirped back, going over to tend to his coffee.

“Don’t you?”

You broke into a fit of giggles, Tyson and Nate doing the same. And as you were trying to compose yourself, you noticed Nate, focused on you and softly smiling. The sun had just started to peek through the window, making his eyes sparkle a little bit, and you couldn’t help but smile right back at him.

You could definitely get used to this.

#nate mackinnon #nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon fluff #nate mackinnon fluff #nhl imagines #nhl writing #colorado avalanche imagine

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stylesgalaxy · 5 years

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mastermind; chapter 2

"Every character in a book serves a purpose." My creative writing professor covered that with us today. "We may not think much of their existence but at the very least, they leave our main character with an idea or a thought that could alter their path."

Next to Julia, I never really felt like the main protagonist of my own story. I was the sidekick, the supporting actress. I was the character who's existence was overlooked, but I played a major part in helping the main character. I don't know if I minded it very much. I don't want to call attention to myself, but introverts also deserve to be the main character in their stories, right?

Maybe.

But the story I wanted to live in right now, unfortunately was not mine. It was Julia Tate's and Harry Styles'. They were meant to be. They were like the type of characters you took years to write and develop so they can come to their happy ending and the world would tear up in joy. They were like the couple who the entire theatre stood up to clap for when they finally kissed.

Who was I to stand in the way of that? Not to mention, that was my own best friend's boyfriend.

You saw him first though. The jealous voice inside my head spoke.

But this isn't kindergarten. I would reply back. Those aren't the rules to the real world.

Sadly, the real rules in this world stopped me from even getting close to Harry. In another world, Harry and I easily could be best friends, something about him drew me to him and it's hard even in this world to keep us apart. But I need to keep us apart because Harry and I getting close would never lead to anything good for as long as I was friends with Julia.

"I'm home!" Julia's cheerful voice rings out as she steps in. The door to our apartment closes shut and she stands by the kitchen, grinning. I notice the copious amounts of shopping bags in her hands.

"Daddy sent you more money?" I ask bringing my coffee mug up to my face to hide my smirk.

"Oh, shut up," she grins wider, setting her bags down and opening the fridge door.

"What happened this time?"

Since Julia's parents divorced, she had been staying with her mother which meant she didn't see her father as much. She saw both of them even less since her and I moved out for university. Her father was really rich. And because he hardly heard from her, anytime she called him upset, he was quick to send his personal assistant with gifts for her or money.

He was actually the one who got us this apartment. It was in the nicer part of town and had a concierge and 24-hour security. The apartment itself was not too big though. The front door opens up to our kitchen on the right, and the living room straight ahead. If you go past the kitchen, on the right theres a very short hallway that leads straight to the bathroom, with my room on the left and Julia's on the right. Her mother had to fight her father to not get a bigger apartment because while her father was actively trying to buy her love, her mother was actively trying to keep her from getting more spoiled that she already was.

My parents on the other hand, were very grateful that Mr. Tate allowed me to stay with her and offered to pay rent but he dismissed the idea, saying I was like his own daughter. (I don't know how that works since he probably doesn't know how tall his real daughter is, much less what I look like, but I'll take it.) But I told him I wanted to pay, so he let me saying that learning how to manage your money is very important. Living with Julia was like being married. She shared her money a lot and paid for small things so I didn't have to. She had always been very cool with spending her money on me, ever since we were kids, it's just something I'll be forever indebted to her for.

"I told him I'm stressing about failing my midterms," she says, fishing out a slice of cheesecake from the fridge.

"That's all it took?" I ask in shock. If I called my father and told him I was stressed about failing my midterms he'd tell me to hang up and go study.

"I may have cried a bit."

I roll my eyes at her.

"Hey!" she exclaims, "I am stressed! I needed that money to go shopping and de-stress."

"And did you?" I smirk, knowing Julia was insatiable.

"Partially. I'm meeting up with Harry tonight, that should help loads," she says giving me a knowing look.

My gut wrenches. They've been going out for nearly two years and still, my gut wrenches.

"I'm going to go over to his, you wanna come?" she asks subtly, but it's not lost on me. Harry lives with his friends, Louis and Niall. Julia is under the impression that I have a crush on Louis and her and Harry have been trying to set us up since the semester started.

"Don't think so. I really should finish my sculpture prototype," I reply.

"Aw, come on! Louis is going to be there."

"Well, obviously. He lives there."

"It's gonna be fun! We can play a board game—"

"I thought you were gonna be fucking your boyfriend," I mutter.

"I will! After I get you and Louis talking," she says casually and digs into her cheesecake.

I shake my head and start walking back to my room.

"Wait no, don't leave! I need help," she pleads. I sigh deeply and turn back around, resting my arms on the counter. "It's Harry and I's second anniversary next week."

I know.

"I don't know what to get him," she pouts.

I know that, too.

"He always gets me such nice things, even on random days! I want to do the same for him."

I look into her sad eyes, and sigh again.

"I'll think of something," I say quietly. Julia was the worst at keeping relationships. I wasn't, and as her best friend I was obligated to help her out when she began dating. Except, "helping her out" turned to a way bigger thing with Harry. No longer was I telling Julia what she should do. Now, I just did whatever I could get away with, without Harry finding out it was me. Julia was grateful for my help and I couldn't lie and say I hated knowing I contributed to Harry's happiness in some way.

"Ah, Thank you!" Julia exclaims, running to hug me. "You're the best."

***

"Hmm, can you hold up the green one again?" I ask the lady at the gift wrapping station. She puts the bronze ribbon back and brings the green one to the light brown box. As cheesy as it sounds, the green colour reminded me strongly of Harry's eyes. I guess it's a good thing I won't be the one giving it to him. "Yeah, I think I'll go with the green one."

"I have these silver artificial flower decorations, do you want me tie it in with the ribbon?" she asks.

"Yeah, sure, that'd be nice," I say after thinking on it for a bit. They seemed a bit girly, but I knew it was something Harry would like.

She finishes wrapping the gift while I open Julia's text messages. Her last class of the day finished half an hour ago so she was home.

I'm hungry, she texts.

I'm on my way home, do u wanna order take out? I reply.

chinese?

sure.

I enjoy cooking if I'm not busy, but I've been out all day so I wasn't able to make anything. And the most Julia can cook is a box of mac and cheese, so I'm assuming we're out of that which is why she's hungry.

The lady hands me the gift in a brown paper bag and I thank her, trying to catch a bus before rush hour hits. I check the bus app and see that it's going to arrive at 5:25, so about twenty minutes. Great. Twenty minutes in the chilly fall air, with nothing but a thin jacket. I didn't realize it would be so cold today or I would have at least brought a scarf.

I start pacing and shuffling to keep my self warm. My hands are stuffed in my pockets with the bag hanging from one of my wrists. I shouldn't be here right now. I'm supposed to be working on my cardboard sculpture prototype, so I can get it done and make notes for my history seminar, and then start on my calligraphy prints. At least it was Monday which means I don't have to go to work until the weekend.

Just as I continue cursing the bus for taking so fucking long, another gust of cold wind blows in my face. My jaw locks in anger. I hate everything about this moment.

Next thing I know, a black Range Rover car pulls to a stop in front of me. I freeze in shock as the window rolls down.

"Aria?" Harry smiles at me. "What are you doing out there?"

"Freezing my tits off," I mumble quietly. Can't he see I'm waiting for the bus?

I'm not sure if he hears me or not but he chuckles and leans forward to open the passenger door.

"Get in," he says. I immediately start feeling bad.

"No, it's okay! My bus is," I check my phone for the time, 5:11, "two minutes away!"

"Don't be silly, I can't leave you out here!" he shakes his head. "I'm going to your place anyway."

Hesitantly, I step forward and get in his car. The second I shut the door, I feel the warm air from his heater surround me. I glance at Harry who gives me a small smile before driving.

It's silent between us.

For the past two years, I've tried not to let Harry get too close to me. It would be detrimental in my plans to keep him and Julia together if we became friends and he were to suddenly realize I played a bigger part in their relationship then Julia herself sometimes. I've tried countless things to shake him off. I've pretended to be super shy and quiet to get him to leave me alone, but he was simply gentler and constantly made sure I felt comfortable around him. I've tried pretending to be weirdly obsessed with odd things, but he actually found interest in the fact that male giraffes drink a female giraffes urine to ensure she's ready for mating. I've tried being a downright bitch to him, that even made Julia intervene, but he made excuses for me saying that I was just going through another phase. Nothing worked because Harry was the kindest and sweetest soul there ever was which made me sadder than it made me mad.

"What's in the bag?" he says suddenly. I stiffen for a moment.

"Uh, just some things I need for my sculpture," I answer shakily. Immediately I knew that wasn't the right answer because for some reason my art fascinated Harry.

"That's cool, can I see it?" he asks eagerly and even reaches over to peek into the bag. I slap his hand away quickly.

"No!"

"Why not?" he looks at me sadly.

"It... it can't be exposed. It's special... clay. And if it touches air it'll be ruined. I just don't want to risk it," I lie.

"Oh, ok I get it."

I lightly exhale in relief.

"Wait," he says suddenly. "Then how do you use it? If it can't touch the air?"

Fuck.

"Um..." I start sweating. "You need to work with it in a special room."

"Like a dark room?"

Not at all.

"Yes."

He nods and the conversation dies. Thank fuck Harry is a business major and has no knowledge of anything art related. He doesn't question me again until we get to the apartment.

"Harry?" Julia asks, when we walk in. "What are you doing here?"

"I missed you," he says giving her a peck on the lips. Her arms wrap around his neck. I look away and grab a plate to take some food out for myself. "Is that Chinese food?!"

"Yeah it just arrived, you want some?" I hear Julia say as I make a beeline for my room with my plate in hand.

"I'm going to be in my room," I call out and shut the door before any of them can respond. I hear Julia's loud giggling from the living room and sigh deeply before pulling my headphones over my head and blasting music.

Harry leaves a few hours later and Julia barges into my room without knocking. If it was anyone else I would have thrown a fit about my privacy, but there's nothing in my room I need to hide from Julia, and I'm used to her ways.

Julia slumps down on my bed with her head facing me. I turn around from my desk in my swivel chair and look at her expectantly.

"I have so much shit to do," she states.

"Then why are you here?" Now that I know it's nothing serious, I take this moment to unlock my phone and check my social media.

"Let's watch a movie."

"Julia, I'm busy."

"You're on your phone."

"'Cause I'm hoping you'll get the hint that I don't want to talk to you."

She throws a pillow at me and I laugh.

"Go do your work," I tell her.

"Okay, but in exactly one hour I'm dragging your ass to the living room and we're watching a movie. I don't care how much work you have to do. We need to relax."

"Fine, fine," I say waving my hand to shoo her away. She makes it just out the door before I remember. "Wait!"

I roll my chair over to my closet and fish out Harry's gift.

"Here," I say, handing it to her.

"Aria, thank you so much! I owe you!" Julia says gratefully and comes over to hug me.

"You don't, I used your card to pay for everything."

"Not that! You went out of your way to get this for me! Let's go for lunch tomorrow, I'll pay."

"You know you don't have to," I assure her. Besides, I'd gotten Harry plenty of gifts on Julia's behalf.

"No, we're going. It'll be fun!" she smiles eagerly so I nod. Julia lightly shakes the box. "The wrapping is absolutely gorgeous. Even prettier then the one you got for his birthday... what's in it?"

"Uh, a Tom Ford cologne... it's something a little new but still similar to the scents he goes for," I start but then realize what I said and look up at Julia, "... I think." She doesn't seem fazed, so I continue. "A framed photo of you two and his favourite chocolates."

"Wow, that sounds amazing... thank you again, Aria, you're a really good friend," she says sincerely. I smile shyly at her. "I might have to take you out for dinner, too," she teases.

"Okay, but only if it's that new Italian restaurant."

She nods excitedly. Then she pauses, "Can I ask you something?"

I freeze for a second, dreading the worst.

"Sure."

"Why do you avoid Harry so much? I think you two would get along so well."

"I don't avoid him," I say dismissively.

"You do!" she insisted. "Look, I'm not mad at you, it's just that... I think it's hurting his feelings."

"Really?" I ask quietly. My insides feel like lead. I hurt his feelings? All these years I put him through my stupid phases to shake him off me to protect (mainly) myself, and not once did I think about what he would feel like.

"He hides it pretty well, but I see him looking at your door sometimes, wondering why you never hang out with us," she says.

"Okay, wait—I'm not gonna sit there and watch you guys make out like a third wheel in my own home," I argue.

"We wouldn't make out if you were there," she rolls her eyes. "And not only that, you always run to your room when he's here. And he told me about your conversation on the way here. He senses that you don't want to talk to him."

I sighed heavily. The last thing I wanted was for Harry to feel bad. I don't care if I felt bad because I was the bad one for loving my best friend's boyfriend, he was completely innocent. But Harry is also a grown ass man and there's only so much I can do. I hate to think this, but he's going to have to deal with my cold behaviour because I clearly drew the short stick in this situation.

"Can you just at least try to make an effort to be friendlier to him?" Julia pleads. "Please? It would mean the world." I look at her forlornly. "I just want to know that my best friend and boyfriend get along! I mean we're about to celebrate our third anniversary! He means a lot to me."

I shouldn't be surprised, I really shouldn't. They'd been dating for two years and Julia has never stayed with any guy for more than a few months. And from what I heard about Harry, he hadn't either until he met Julia. They belong together. But that doesn't make it any easier for me.

I choose my next words carefully.

"The world doesn't revolve around Harry," I say simply. "I'm sorry if his feelings got hurt, but I can't cater to everyone's needs. Sometimes I just have to do what I do."

"I understand," she whispers sadly. "Thank you."

"I do get along with him, though!" I say, feeling bad. It was tough enough seeing him in love with her, and being the one to tell Julia how to love him—I didn't need to add being his friend to the list.

For fuck's sake, when am I going to catch a break?

"Okay, I can try to be nicer, but don't hold me to it if I can't. And certainly don't tell Harry about this. I don't want him to get worked up over my actions, you know how unpredictable I can be," I say eventually.

"Yes! Oh, thank you thank you thank you! I won't tell him, and I won't hold you to anything. All I'm asking for is for you to try!"

***

"Aria."

I nearly jump at the sound. It was way too early in the morning to deal with Harry, who was apparently behind me in the line at Starbucks.

"Harry," I turn around and greet him with a tight smile.

"Julia told me that she talked to you about being nicer to me," he says and I inwardly roll my eyes at Julia for doing exactly what I asked her not to.

"Harry—"

"I just want you to know that I didn't ask her to say any of that! I-I know you probably don't like me very much, but it's not something I'm holding against you. I like Julia a lot. And you're her best friend, I'm always gonna try to be friends with you, but I don't want to pressure you into anything. I don't want to cause any trouble," he says with the cutest frown on his face. He looks so adorable with his slightly ruffled hair and tired eyes. I want to wash away all signs of uncertainty from his face and have him smiling again.

"I do like you," I manage to say. "You're a really good guy, Harry, and Julia is very lucky to have you."

He stares at me intently and I have to force myself to not melt under his gaze. How does Julia handle this? I've never stared into his eyes this long and I think I'm already developing some sort of breathing issues. But he continues to stare at me, waiting for an answer. I decide I can't stand to see him displeased.

"I'm a very reserved person, I'm sure you've noticed." He nods, eager to get me to open up to him. I move up a spot in the line up. "I just have some difficulties showing my kindness sometimes, and it's something I'm trying to work on. I really didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything—if I did."

He shrugs and grins.

"It's okay," he mumbles. I feel like shit at the fact that he didn't deny me ever hurting his feelings.

"I'm sorry for being so difficult. I do want us to be friends," I say. He smiles wider now.

"Don't apologize for being the way you are. I don't mind. I'm just glad you don't hate me," he chuckles and I shake my head. Hate him? Boy, does he have it wrong.

It's my turn to order so I walk up to the register. After I tell the girl my order, I look back at Harry and wave him over. He immediately walks up to me and reaches for his wallet.

"Everything okay?" he asks.

"Yeah! I was just gonna ask what you're getting," I say. I can't help the smile that spreads across my face because he's standing centimetres away from me and he smells so good.

"Oh, you don't have to–"

"I insist," I say. He looks at me for a while, biting his lip. "I'm trying to be friendlier, remember?"

"Alright," he gives in, turning to the lady. "Could I please get a Skinny Cinnamon Dolce latte?"

I have to fight Harry to pay for the drinks because he keeps insisting that he can't let me pay. I press my hands to his side and push him away but he pushes me back with his hip and hands the girl his money. While she gets his change back, I give him my meanest glare.

"Stop that, you're not scaring me," he chuckles.

"I'm not?" I question, glaring harder.

"No, because you just told me you like me," he smirks.

My heart jolts. I don't know why. Maybe it's because of the way he talks about me "liking him" so casually that it lets me pretend for a moment that we're in a relationship.

Ugh, Aria, you're so pathetic.

Nonetheless, my expression shifts slightly and Harry notices.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I'm sorry! I only said that because you said—"

I roll my eyes at him.

"Relax, Harry, I'm okay," I say. He breathes relieved and I take a moment to think about how happy he'll be when he learns that I'm way more easy going and chill than I let him believe I was for years.

We grab our drinks and leave, I try not to think about us parting soon because this run in has brightened my mood so much.

"A frappuccino?" Harry asks in disbelief when he notices the iced drink in my hand. "In this weather?"

"What? It's delicious," I argue.

"You'll get sick."

"No, I won't."

"Yes, you will."

"No, I won't."

"Whatever, it's your problem. Though you can count on me to have a nice laugh when you do get sick," he smirks.

I grin and push him off the sidewalk. "Go to your class, Harry! I've had enough of you for today and it's not even eight yet."

Harry bursts into laughter and yells out a goodbye before walking away. My smile grows wider as I make my way towards my class. This has been a wonderful morning so far, I really hope the rest of the day goes by just as nice.

***

"Quick! Which dress?!" Julia yells the second I step into our apartment. She's holding up a navy blue, maxi dress and a light pink, off the shoulder, knee length dress.

"Pink!" I choose quickly.

"Okay, good, I like that one too."

"What's it for?" I ask, properly stepping in and putting my keys away.

"My anniversary date with Harry obviously," she says absent-mindedly, stripping in the middle of the living room to change into her dress. I mentally slap myself. I completely forgotten that was today. My morning with Harry distracted me from remembering what today was. "Can you zip me?"

I walk over to zip up her dress. Julia lets her long, curled hair fall down her back. She turns around and I inspect her flawless makeup. She looks beautiful.

"You look amazing," I say.

"Thank you!" she kisses my cheek and then picks up her clothes to take to her room. I sit down and watch as she fiddles around with the straps of her shoes, then triple checks that she has everything she needs in her purse. She checks her phone about four times to ensure she hasn't missed a text from Harry. The fact that she's been on countless dates with Harry and she still gets nervous before she sees him only proves how much she loves him.

I have to admit, when she first started dating Harry in first year, I hoped it wouldn't last long like all her other relationships have. I hoped that they wouldn't click and would break up and I'd wait the respectable amount of time before seeing if it was okay with Julia if I started talking to Harry. I was so stupid in first year. Why did I think I even mattered when it came to them? They were the main characters, I was the secondary. Nothing I wanted would matter in regards to their relationship, and if they ever were to break up Harry would never move on to me. Not after Julia. Julia was gorgeous, she exuded perfection through every pore in her body. And me? I was plain. Plain brown hair, plain brown eyes, plain clothes, plain personality. I didn't stand out in any way.

I wished one day to be able to walk in Julia's shoes. Just to see what it's like. To have people look at you like you're the prettiest person they've ever seen, or to bump into you simply so they can talk to you.

God, Aria, stop being so pathetic.

I shake my head to get rid of those thoughts. There were more important issues in everyone's lives than my selfish desires for being more attractive.

"Okay, I'm all ready. He should be here soon," Julia starts tapping her foot impatiently. "What do I say to him when I give him the present?"

"Say the cologne reminded you of him," I start. "The picture is of you two at your nineteenth birthday, say that was one of the happiest nights of your life—because he was with you." She's listening attentively and nodding along. "If you want to get corny, tell him you chose the green ribbon on the box because they reminded you of his eyes."

"Okay, thank you," she breathes. I grab her hand and squeeze it.

"You'll be okay, why are you so worried?" I ask.

"I don't know, I just don't want anything to go wrong," she looks into my eyes. "I really, really, like him. I don't want anything to go wrong, I don't want to lose him."

I gulp.

"You won't," my voice comes out croaky. "He loves you."

She takes a deep breath and nods again. "You're right. Thank you so much. Aria, I seriously have no idea what I'd do without you. I just get so nervous with him sometimes... You'll have your phone on you, right? So I can text you?"

"Of course."

"Good."

***

I'm in bed. I've finished my calligraphy prints and even had time to make extra ones. I've watched everyone's stories on Instagram and Snapchat. There was only one that I cared about—Julia's. Harry doesn't post much so she was all I had to clue in on their date.

How was it going? Was Julia saying the right things? Did Harry like the gifts? What did he get her? Did she at least pretend to like it?

Pfft. Of course she liked it. Harry knew Julia well enough to know what she wanted before she even knew.

My phone buzzed in my hand and I quickly unlocked it to check the message.

aria. he keeps choking up and tearing a little, i dont know what to do, im nervous

I paused for a moment. Choking up and tearing? Was he emotional or did he hate everything?

is it good choking and tearing or bad choking and tearing??

i dont know!!!!!!

does he keep staring at you, like, intensely??

yea, he keeps looking into my eyes

where is he right now?

bathroom

ok i think hes just getting really emotional

good emotional

nothing to worry about he just loves u a lot

what do i do?

if he's getting really emotional, he probably doesn't want to be out in public anymore. suggest that you guys leave to go home or anywhere else im sure he just wants to be with you alone

ok, will do. thanks!!

g2g hes coming

I lock my phone again and leave it on my bedside table. Things were going good, I can breathe again. Tomorrow Julia will tell me everything about their date, for now I'm going to sleep.

***

Thanks for reading!

I updated this one cause i made a lil mistake, but also if there are random "_" in the text thats from when I italicized words and the website I wrote it in left them when I copied it over here, it's so annoying. I thought I got all of them out, sorry if there's any I missed!

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cruzrogue · 5 years

Text

Enter My World

previous Chapter 2

Enter My World

Giving Felicity a nickname wasn’t an easy feat. I asked eighteen random people for a nickname that could suitably be attached to Felicity. Any nickname that stood out as one that would be commonly used I got rid of. This nickname was only to be used between Oliver and Felicity. Just like Vern/Vernnie was something she called him because well I wanted to create an endearment that a seven-year-old to current date would have a pet name. In the show I can’t see her give Oliver a pet name but that is because the point of their lives it would be silly. Endearments like honey/babe and so forth well that comes with being in love over time. Anyways I landed up using Filla because of this young lady named Nadia. She is so sweet and well how could I not?

This chapter is Oliver centric. Robert Queen is worried about his son.

Chapter 3

Three weeks later…

Oliver can hear the echo of his footsteps bounce off the walls when the house is tremendously quiet. The night staff is basically the estate’s security team that really do more external sweeps which usually ranges on how many men actually are seasonally required. Until his parents retire for the night to their room there is a caretaker that handles the small nightly duties. Raisa sometimes sleeps onsite but she mostly leaves after her shift is over. There aren’t many others that his parents leave their children to unsupervised. Hence why the halls are so quiet.

He’s supposed to dine with his father tonight as his mother and two sisters are out at ballet dance class. They’ll have dinner with a few other participates and enjoy a girls’ night out. He is happy to not be included so being home he is entertaining his thoughts. He is finding he hates the quiet moments and how being alone only adds to his depression.

Finishing his homework hours ago and then finding himself drawing faces of a certain girl he misses dearly. He didn’t think it would be so hard to move on. It’s not like he doesn’t have other friends which also have sisters he’s spent time with. So, what makes Felicity so special? It can’t just be countless moments they were just excited to do things together. The rare inside jokes that only they’ve shared. Being she’s the only person to ever call him Vern or Vernnie which stuck long after the reason she gave him that nickname.

Writing down their nicknames across a pad of paper he feels a certain dread after she made sure to express that she doesn’t want any more direct communication with him. He looks at the perfect cursive calligraphic penmanship that his sister spent half an afternoon teaching him even when he could care less about its visual beauty but Emilia was so happy to teach him something so he spent the time doodling words as she smiled broodily at him. The life of a big brother. Especially when trying to be a supportive brother he now wonders how many times Tommy has had to deal with his own sister’s piqued interests? He looks at the pad as the names Vernnie and Filla stare back at him before tearing the sheet from the pad and balling it up throwing it across the room.

He couldn’t stand being here any longer and needs to get out of this funk maybe get some fresh air. He just wishes their lives weren’t so interwoven because he wishes he had someone to talk about this with and Tommy is out of the question.

He needs to pass his father’s office on his way through and his father calls out to him.

“Oliver! Walter, hold on a minute I need to say a few words to my son.” He covers the phone with his hand over the receiver as his son enters the home office. His son has been very quiet lately and that has raised some concern especially with his mother who has noted a few changes.

Oliver always takes in the room when he enters. It’s large with dark leather and a deep masculine décor. Its screams old money. It’s actually quite overwhelming to him. Sometimes he forgets he comes from wealth and takes everything he has for granted but lately he has wallowed in what he’s lost.

“Yes, dad?” Oliver sits in the furthest chair close to the exit he doesn’t think he’ll be here long. His dad has been working on a business expansion that’s taken a lot of his time lately. With his mother and two sisters out it just leaves father and son to mingle about and Oliver would rather sit by the pool and let the buoyancy of the wind and the oncoming sunset reflect off its grand scale.

“I won’t be joining you for dinner. Unfortunately, a deal I need to tend to with Walter before I leave for a late business meeting. I have informed Raisa to make your favorites, just want to make sure you’ll actually eat.”

“Okay.” Oliver shrugs his shoulders. He isn’t hungry anyways he’ll just ask for a sandwich but he’ll get mac & cheese or with some grilled chicken he doesn’t care what vegetable will be served he usually eats any of the options given.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yea, I mean yes. Dad everything is fine. I’ll eat something. Don’t worry about me.”

Robert looks at his son for a few more seconds before he makes a decision. Placing the phone back on against his ear. “Walter, let me call you back.” After Walter gives a response Robert agrees and hangs up.

Robert gets up from his chair as he keeps his gaze on his son. Moira is right his son looks lanker than usual. “Have you been feeling well?”

“I’m fine dad.”

“Yes, you have stated that already.” Robert looks at the grandfather clock before resuming looking at his sullen boy. “You’ve been at home more lately. You’re usually at the Merlyns or Tommy would be here. Especially when your sisters aren’t. Hmm did something happen between you and Tommy?”

Oliver sighs but shakes his head no.

He asks his son again, “Nothing has happened?” and gets a sway of the head indicating a no.

“Oliver, I’m going to need you to be more vocal.”

“Everything is fine between me and Tommy.” Robert can sense that this is all he will pry out of his son. Nodding at the sixteen-year-old.

“Just make sure to eat enough. Your mother and sisters should be home by seven thirty. If you’re alright, I suppose you can go get yourself washed up for dinner. I’m going to make a few calls before I leave.” He looks at Oliver stand and start to head out. “You would tell me if something was bothering you?”

Oliver turns to his dad and makes sure to nod to keep his dad from meddling. “I’m fine dad.”

Robert enters the establishment ready to do business on one of the dining room tables that is off to the side from the main restaurant. He runs into seeing Malcolm on his way out with his family. The men shake hands and Robert gives Rebecca an acceptable partial hug of familiarity, and both kids get a full hug. Rebecca and the kids excuse themselves to head to the carrousel that is calling their names.

“Family night?”

“It has been awhile but Felicity has been talking about an exhibit at the science museum so it being premier night we thought it’ll be fun.”

“Oh yes, Moira mentioned this but my younger kids aren’t interested. They don’t consider added educational trips as fun.”

“Well as much fun as it can be as I had to encourage Tommy to not sulk about the torture of more science in his life. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if Oliver agreed to come along but I understand his new interest is a more enlightening matter.”

“Oliver is home alone. Strange. This time with Tommy is probably what he’d need.”

“Moira and the girls aren’t home?”

“No. The usual dance classes and all.”

Malcolm gives off a weird vibe as if he wants to tell Robert that maybe Oliver is not home alone as he thinks. Otherwise it would be strange for the boy not to hang out with his own family.

Robert catches on. Maybe his son is entertaining and that does not sit well with him. He has always had an open communication line with his kids. They can come to him for anything and he feels a slight twinge of hurt that his son would omit something and go behind his parent’s backs.

“I think I need to reschedule this meeting. I may be needed elsewhere.” He’ll have to make some apologizes to the men waiting but his boy comes first.

“Robert. Hey I’m sorry. I doubt Oliver is doing anything crazy. He is a bright boy.”

“Thanks Malcolm. I better be off. We should get together for a round a golf when the weather clears.” Malcolm nods and they say their goodbyes as Robert is on a mission.

Robert knocks once, twice, and as he knocks the third time he opens the door to his son’s room and enters looking around for more than his son’s appearance in what is supposed to be a solitary room.

“Dad! You’re home early.”

Robert notices his son who is now standing to the side off the couch. A book that hazily is by the edge falls making a thud sound as it hits the wooden floor. Oliver automatically collects it and places it on the side table. Looking like he might be guarding the closet door.

“Have you eaten?”

“I’ve had a bite.”

“Just a bite? Raisa said you came by and grabbed a few bottles of water before disappearing. Now what is going on?” As Robert says this he walks past his son to the large closet and pulls the door open and surprisingly there is no one in there.

“Dad? What are you doing?”

“Is there someone here?”

“No. Why would there be? I don’t understand.”

“I had an interesting chat with Tommy’s dad. Who assumed you were entertaining.”

“Oh.”

“Yes oh. He asked his son to invite you for a fun night. Did he?”

“Yes, Tommy asked I declined telling him I would be busy.”

Robert looks around the boy’s room and thinks about checking the bathroom that is before Oliver states something that stops him.

“I’ve been lying to Tommy about some girl.”

Robert is shocked. Why would his son need to lie to a boy who knows him inside-and-out? This is not good. “Why?”

“Because he doesn’t want me near his sister.”

“What?” Robert shakes his head, “Have you done something to Felicity?”

“No. Gosh no. She kissed me a few weeks ago.”

“Kissed you?”

“Okay it was a peck on the lips but I realized I really like her. I mean like her and I told her we couldn’t be friends anymore.” He slumps against the couch. “Now Felicity hates me.”

“So, there is no girl in this room with you. Okay, one problem down.” Robert breathes out relieved. He hears his son moan but at least he doesn’t have to deal with getting rid of a visitor. “I came home expecting the unexpected you’d be relieved to and believe me when you become a father you’ll understand.”

Oliver just looks at his dad like he has two heads.

“All this sulking around the house I presume is about Felicity?”

“Dad! She hates me.”

“Tell me exactly what you told her. Maybe you’re being harder on yourself than you should be.”

“I don’t remember it piece by piece. I just remember I called her a kid. That I value Tommy’s friendship over hers and I ended the friendship because I knew best.”

Robert looks at his son astonished. “When did you realize you liked Felicity?”

“Why does that matter?”

It really doesn’t matter but both the Merlyn elders alongside him and his wife have seen it coming as these two have a special blossoming relationship. Robert bites his lip and against better judgement tells his son, “I thought you’d realize this much later on and now I owe your mother a backrub.”

“What? You and mom knew I liked, liked her?” Oliver looks at his dad and is stunned, “No! No way. Uncle Max and Auntie Reba knows too?”

With a nod Robert knows he is in a jam. “Oliver?”

Oliver is up and pacing. “Everybody knows? Oh my… No! This can’t be happening.”

“Calm down. Young love is beautiful.”

Oliver just wants the floor in his room to open up and swallow him whole he is so mortified. He really thought that what he felt was just so new and to know his family could see it. He feels like a total fool. Now he can’t even talk to the girl that has him brooding around thinking of ways to get her to even look at him. Though no matter what it doesn’t solve his problem. He still feels that her being younger is just a curse. “Dad she’s twelve.”

“Hmm. Hmm.” Robert then says, “I can’t assume what your male friends talk about but as a male myself I understand certain things. Let me tell you, don’t let them pressure you into doing anything you’re not ready for. It seems that maybe we need to have a certain conversation.”

“Dad I don’t need that talk again I still remember it very well.”

“No wise guy. Though as uncomfortable as getting that conversation started it needed to be done. I don’t want the information you get be from some older buddies telling you falsehoods.”

Robert makes himself as comfortable as he can because this talk is going to have with Oliver is going to be intense but his son needs this. He wants his boy to not lack in knowing that no matter what life throws at him that there are people on his side. He watches as his son readies himself. Oliver looks at his dad and nods hoping that somewhere in this conversation he can figure a way because right now he feels so lost.

tagging: @1106angel @memcjo @keabbs @lovelifelovebooks

#olicity #Enter My World #oliver queen #felicity smoak #robert queen #arrow

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douchebagbrainwaves · 5 years

Text

I'VE BEEN PONDERING ABILITY

I'm not too worried yet. But hackers can't watch themselves at work. So if you want to say and ad lib the individual sentences. And I wasn't alone. The mercurial Spaniard himself declared: After Altamira, all is decadence. But what if the problem isn't given?1 The other reason founders ignore this path is that the absolute numbers seem so small at first. But the less you identify work with employment, the easier it becomes to start a startup. They're hostages of the platform.2 Do you need a lot of startup founders are often technical people who are mistaken, you can't simply tell the truth.3 But I don't wish I were a better speaker like I wish I were a better speaker than me, but a famous speaker.

There were a lot of people are going to want these.4 But any application can be interesting if it poses novel technical challenges. Chance meetings let your acquaintance drift in the same place they come from different sources. Most people have had the experience of working hard on some problem, not being able to solve it, giving up and going to bed, and then I'd gradually find myself using the Internet still looked and felt a lot like work. They don't work for startups in general, but they pay attention. Several friends mentioned hackers' ability to concentrate—their ability, as one put it, to tune out everything outside their own heads. In most people's minds, spending money on luxuries sets off alarms that making investments doesn't. As you accelerate, this drag increases, till eventually you reach a point where 100% of your energy is devoted to overcoming it and you can't go by the awards he's won or the jobs he's had, because in design, as in many fields, the hard part isn't solving problems, but deciding what problems to solve. Immigration policy is one area where a competitor could do better.

One of the most successful startup founders turn out to be surprisingly long, Wufoo sent each new user a hand-written note after you buy a laptop. For cases like that there's a more drastic solution that definitely works: to set up local VC funds by supplying the money themselves and recruiting people from existing firms to run them, only organic growth can produce angel investors.5 Increasingly you win not by fighting to get control of a scarce resource, but by having new ideas. One is that a lot of nasty little ones. Sun. I think this time I'll wait till I'm sure they work before writing about them. When specialists in some abstruse topic talk to one another about ideas in their field, they don't use sentences any more complex than they do when talking about what to do if you are yourself a programmer, and one about what to do if you're not.6 But people will do any amount of time knows not to default to skepticism, no matter how inexperienced you seem or how unpromising your idea sounds at first, because they've all seen inexperienced founders with unpromising sounding ideas who a few years unless the university chooses to grant them tenure.7

Immigration policies that let in all smart people, you'd immediately get more than half the world's top talent, for free. The most dangerous way to lose time is not to spend it doing fake work.8 With hackers, at least, exclusively for work. I don't know if it's possible to make yourself into a great hacker how good he is, he's almost certain to reply, I don't know.9 Maybe great hackers have some similar inborn ability.10 In the mid to late 1980s, all the hackers I know seem to have made that deal, though perhaps none of them had any choice in the matter. I'm trying other strategies now, but I don't believe it.11 The tendency to clump means it's more like the square of the environment. What sustains a startup in the beginning is the prospect of getting their initial product out. So are talks useless?12

Startup founder is not the power of their brand, but the fact that hackers, despite their reputation for social obliviousness, sometimes put a good deal of effort into seeming smart. If anyone could have sat back and waited for users, it was even better than we'd hoped. That's not hard for engineers to grasp. Startups grow up around universities because universities bring together promising young people and make them work on the same projects. But you can.13 When Steve Jobs started using that phrase, Apple was already an established company. For Larry Page the most important tool to a hacker like having one's brain in a blender.14 But the importance of the new model is not just that line but the whole program around it.15

Notes

Free money to spend, see what the earnings turn out to coincide with mathematicians' judgements. Common Lisp, which are a different attitude to the code you write has a title. The banks now had to ask permission to go the bathroom, and the editor written in C and C, and his son Robert were each in turn means the slowdown that comes from bumping up against the limits of one's family, that they don't want to sell your company right now.

Median may be common in the US since the mid 20th century. And so to the hour Google was in a bug. Giant tax loopholes are definitely not a nice-looking little box with a few years.

Obviously signalling risk.

I'm saying you should seek outside advice, and we ran into Yuri Sagalov. 2%.

The Mac number is a self fulfilling prophecy. In fact, for the entire period since the mid twentieth century. But it can buy. Even Samuel Johnson said no man but a razor is much more analytical style of thinking, but they start to identify them with you to stop, but conversations with VCs suggest it's roughly correct for startups is very hard to make people use common sense when interpreting it.

Us seem naive, or Microsoft could not process it. He had equity. Oddly enough, maybe you don't want to wait for the linguist and presumably teacher Daphnis, but economically that's how we gauge their progress, but the programmers, but one way to put it would have disapproved if executives got too much to maintain your target growth rate early on?

I know of this article used the term copyright colony was first used by Myles Peterson. When he wanted to go to college, but it is less than the actual lawsuits rarely happen. If this happens it will become less common for founders to overhire is not just a Judeo-Christian concept; it's not the distribution of income, which I deliberately pander to readers, because companies don't want to be very popular but apparently unimportant, like architecture and filmmaking, but those are probably especially valuable. It also set off an extensive and often useful discussion on the group's accumulated knowledge.

Miyazaki, Ichisada Conrad Schirokauer trans. If anyone wanted to make the police treat people more equitably. But on the basis of intelligence or wisdom. It turns out to coincide with mathematicians' judgements.

Comments at the mercy of investors are just not super thoughtful for the same thing—trying to sell the bad VCs fail by choosing startups run by people like Jessica is not such a large pizza and found an open source project, but conversations with other people's.

Without distractions it's too obvious to us an old copy from the rest have mostly raised money at all. Companies didn't start to feel like a wave. I wrote a hilarious but also like an undervalued stock in that it makes sense to exclude outliers from some central tap. By this I mean forum in the evolution of the political pressure against Airbnb than hotel companies.

I've said into something that flows from some central tap. At Princeton, 36% of the 800 highest paid executives at 300 big corporations. It didn't work out a preliminary answer on the valuation of zero. We couldn't talk meaningfully about revenues without including the numbers we have.

It was revoltingly familiar to slip back into it.

People were more dependent on banks for capital for expansion. Note to nerds: or possibly a winner.

The reason we quote statistics about the meaning of the organization—specifically increased demand for unskilled workers, and mostly in Perl. If they were going to drunken parties.

We fixed both problems immediately. Monroeville Mall was at the mercy of investors want to be like a body cavity search by someone else. That's the difference.

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joonie-beanie · 6 years

Text

Modern Day Romance

^the gif has little to do with the story, besides fire lol

An anonie suggested firefighter!Namjoon, and I thought it was cool, so I wrote this little...drabble? fic? story? Call it what you want, but I wrote it lol

Words: 1,729

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

It’s a nightmare.

Not literally, but it might as well be.

You wake up to the sound of blaring fire alarms, red light whirling around your dorm room as the warning light overhead spins hurriedly. Your heart is pounding against your ribs, and with adrenaline rushing through your veins—body knowing that it needs to be awake now—you scramble to grab your cell phone, nearly ripping the charger clean from the wall along with it.

The time that stares back at you is just shy of 4am, and immediately you begin wondering if it’s even worth it to get out of bed. You have class 4 hours from now, and you’d gotten to bed late. This is likely some prank by a dumb student about to get expelled from your university, or the result of a kid putting his mac n cheese in the microwave for a minute too long, causing the plastic to melt, but—

“This way!” you hear someone in the hall yell, and there are shadows moving outside your door, feet pounding against the floor. Fear strikes in your chest, and you fling your covers off, scrambling out of bed. You don’t bother grabbing anything besides your phone—after all, this is just a joke, right?—but when you reach your door and grab the handle, you find yourself rearing back with a hiss leaving your lips.

The skin on your palm burns—the door is scalding—and you stare in shock. Your eyes slide up to the ceiling, where you now notice the smoke floating into your room through the crack in the door, and an entirely new sense of dread fills you.

Quickly grabbing a sweatshirt from your closet, you use the fabric to reach out and turn the door handle again—this time protected from the hot metal. This is your only way out—you live on the third floor of your building—whatever’s on the other side of this door you’ll have to face in order to make it to the stairs and out of the building.

Dressed in a tank top and pair of long pajama bottoms—your shoes haphazardly shoved onto your feet—you fling the door open and immediately are met with the sight of red hot flames. They’re ablaze just to your left, which means—

“Fuck!” you curse. The emergency stairwell is blocked!

Turning to your right, you run down the long hall until the small lobby of your floor is before you—the elevator and main stairwell up the center of the building in front of your eyes. Smartly, you avoid the elevator and dash into the stairwell, but you’re met with a cloud of smoke that makes your lungs burn.

From somewhere down below, black smoke funnels up the staircase. Peeking over the edge of the railing—fighting against the soot that stings your eyes—you realize that you can’t see any light—which means no flames.

Figuring it must be fairly safe, you try and stick low—descending the stairs as quickly as you can. When you reach the second floor, however, you’re met not with fire, but with 2 other people dashing out from the entrance to the stairwell. Obviously, they don’t see you, because they plow right into you. Your head hits something hard, and your vision momentarily goes fuzzy. You hear someone calling for you, but then the two shadows in your vision disappear down the stairs.

“Fuck…,” you hiss, and then stumble to your feet, gripping the warm metal rail beside you. However, before you can move, another figure appears in the doorway, and they pause. They’re bulkier than the other two—that’s for sure. It almost looks like they’re wearing…fire gear…?

“Oh, shit. Are you okay?” a male voice speaks, and your vision finally focuses in on the figure approaching you. It’s a fireman—he takes off his helmet, gently touching your shoulder—oh, and a handsome one at that. Strong jaw—silver hair slicked back with sweat—you should not be taking notes of details like this right now.

“Did you hit your head? Can you stand?” he asks, and you nod.

“The two kids who just ran out…I think they knocked me into the rail. My vision is still…kind of…,” you trail off, and the male curses.

“Do you know if anyone else is still on the upper floors?”

“I heard people running out before me, but I’m not sure,” you respond, wincing when something drips in your eye. The male in front of you makes another slightly panicked sound.

“Alright, I need to get you out of here. Lift up your arms—wrap them around my neck.”

“No, it’s okay—I can w--,” you begin to say, but the male hushes you by bending over and scooping you up in his arms.

“My name is Namjoon, okay? You still seem a little out of it, and your head is bleeding. Hurry and grab on. You shouldn’t remain in here too long.”

Giving in—not wanting to stay in the smoke infested stairwell any longer—you hold onto Namjoon as he quickly descends the remainder of the stairs. Less than a minute later the cool night air greets your skin, and you heave for a breath—not realizing just how badly your lungs had been missing fresh air.

“That’s the last student!” you hear someone call, and you can only guess it’s an RA by the clipboard in their hand and the look of relief that washes over their face.

“Oh, thank god,” the man holding you breathes, and you glance up to see the rest of the students from your dorm gathered around the area. However, instead of going to meet them, Namjoon turns towards where an ambulance is waiting and begins carrying you towards it. There are a few other students already being helped by the two paramedics on sight.

“Minor head wound and a potential concussion,” he says, and the female paramedic climbing into the back of the vehicle shakes her head.

“We’ve got two kids here with carbon monoxide poisoning—another ambulance will be here soon, can you handle it until then?”

“I need to go and help put the fire o—”

“He’ll handle it, please hurry to the hospital,” another voice pipes in, and with a nod from the paramedic, the doors shut and the ambulance speeds off. Once gone, Namjoon turns to face the source of the voice, and you find yourself face to face with a man who looks to be the fire chief. He smiles at you friendlily, and then places his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“Good job getting the students out. Help this girl with her injures—take a breather. We have enough people working to get the fire out.”

“Yes sir,” Namjoon responds, his face visibly relaxing, and the chief turns away.

“Do you…wanna put me down now?” you ask him, and Namjoon looks surprised at hearing you speak, his eyes fliting down to you.

“That gear is all pretty heavy from what I’ve heard…I’m sure holding a full grown lady in your arms for this long isn’t exactly enjoyable, right?”

Namjoon chuckles, his chest rumbling next to your ear, and he turns and makes his way towards a nearby fire engine.

“Are you trying to take away my heroic moment? It’s like I’m holding a princess in my arms, but all she wants is to be put down. What has happened to modern day romance?”

“Since when does being saved from a burning building count as romance?” you respond with a laugh of your own, and Namjoon leans down, setting you on the back end of the firetruck.

“Hey, I’m just trying to make you laugh~,” he responds, moving around to grab a first aid kit from somewhere in the vehicle. “If you’d prefer I can talk about the mortality of humans.”

“Oh, you’re a charmer,” you say, full of sarcasm, and when Namjoon reappears in front of you the smile on his face causes dimples to appear on his cheeks.

“First time I’ve heard that one,” he says, but there’s no joking in his tone. You blink, looking up at him in surprise, and he pulls out a bandage from the kit.

“Really?”

“Really,” he confirms, concentrating on cleaning the scratch on your head, right near your temple. The rubbing alcohol causes you to hiss, and he mumbles an apology.

“Well fuck, I didn’t expect that. Even in the middle of a burning building I couldn’t keep myself from thinking about how handsome you were when you appeared.”

Namjoon’s hands stop working, and you freeze, cheeks burning—perhaps even hotter than the fire inside the building.

“Hey, concussion, remember? Man, I’m really out of it right now, just…ignore me.”

“You’re cute,” he laughs, and you continue to wallow in embarrassment as he finishes bandaging your head.

“Cute enough that you’ll listen to me and forget I ever said that?”

“Cute enough that I won’t do that, and am instead wishing we’d met under different circumstances, so I can ask you on a date.”

“Won’t take a girl you saved from a burning building out for a drink?” you crack, and Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Real shame, that’s some discrimination right there.”

Namjoon laughs, crouching down in front of you. “I’m truly baffled. I feel like I’m breaking code. How am I even supposed to respond at this point?”

“You say ‘yes princess, when are you free?’ and I let you know as soon as I know if I actually have a place to live or not.”

Namjoon sighs, a small smile gracing his lips as he shakes his head at you.

“You’re outrageous.”

“Maybe I am being a bit ambitious,” you mumble, reaching up to gingerly touch your forehead. After all, your building had been on fire, you’d been injured and saved, and it was still 4am, and—

“Are you free this weekend? Saturday, maybe?”

You blink, looking up to Namjoon.

“Sorry?”

The tips of his ears are red, and he rubs the back of his neck.

“This Saturday? For drinks? That date? Unless you’ve been fucking with me this whole time, then—”

“Saturday works,” you interrupt him, smiling widely. Actually, you’re not even sure what you have going on at this point due to, well, the fire, but either way, “Saturday works fine.”

#;;; I don't have time to write any others tonight im sorry #rm x reader #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #bts fluff #bts reader instead #rm #namjoon #namjoon fic

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