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#named him after chips ahoy because it came to mind
jaminjims · 4 years
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bts 8th member {imagine}
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a/n: ok so this was the child of my 1-5am mind that was running off of chips ahoy cookies and diet root beer, and honestly?? kinda proud of myself lmao. i felt like i was kinda lacking with my boys au update this week and i wanted to feed you guys with more content so, here you go! (also sorry if it’s a little rushed, i just started writing and didn’t stop) i lob ya’ll 
pairing: bts x reader (it’s sorta implied as a m!reader bc bts is a boy group and i refer to you as he maybe twice throughout, but it can be read as any gender! although i do make you refer to the older boys as hyung. you can also read it as ot7 but you don’t have to, there are fluffy moments between everyone)
genre: pretty angsty but also pretty fluffy
warnings: panic attack, loneliness, anxiety medication, brief mention of insomnia, extreme dieting, sleep medication 
words: 4.2k
~**~
you trained in bighit for two years before you were put into a group and you could easily say that those years were probably the hardest of your life
in the beginning, you were ecstatic to be accepted because being an idol was your dream, even if it was a small company. you had lost count how many times you dreamed about debuting and just making people (who you couldn’t wait to call your fans) happy
over time, you wouldn't say you lost your drive to continue, but your bright outlook on the future dimmed and the pressure of everything had begun to build up and it had gotten really hard
you had to train everyday: singing lessons, dancing lessons, exercising. and on top of that? you also had to study for school and continue to get good grades
after all, that was your parents only rule if you wanted to become an idol
your parents were also happy for you, but if they also became worried. because being away from home and the pressure of school and training without the fact they could look after you, it worried them to no end
they called you everyday and asked how you were doing, and you would tell them the truth about how you missed them so much that it almost hurt and if you were eating a lot (if your training even aloud it) and that you were staying hydrated and healthy
and sometimes, you were worried about yourself too
there have been multiple times that you thought you were going to break, how you thought you couldn’t continue to live like this because you weren't aloud to eat much and the classes and school work and just everything began to pile up 
but this was your dream, and no one said it was going to be easy
that's the thought that kept you believing in the future, kept you believing in yourself. all of your hard work was going to pay off and you knew it was going to be worth it
right?
the times when you sang so much your throat went raw, the times when you danced so much to the point of exhaustion, and then collapsed but didn’t eat enough afterward. those were the hardest 
your parents came close to pulling you out of training more times than you could keep track of
but you persisted. you had already made it this far, what's the point of dropping out now?
the first year of training was exhausting, but you were so proud of yourself because this was the hardest task you had ever done and you were getting through it!
the second year though, was probably worse than the first. that was the year when you really started to miss your family, and with trainee's constantly coming in and out of the dorms, you really had no one to connect with 
there were nights where you would cry yourself to sleep because of everything
it didn't help when your trainers put you in remedial classes, because you were pretty good at dancing, but not so much at singing
the extra classes got in the way of your school work, and more often than not, you found yourself missing at least two classes a week because of them
but it was ok, you told yourself. if you had made it this far and gave up, then what would the last year of training be? 
but there are only so many times you could tell yourself that before the words started to lose their meaning and you had come so close to dropping out because a person could only have so many anxiety attacks and meltdowns before they just broke completely
but it was like something looked down on you and suddenly: the moment was there. you were put into a group and immediately cried on the spot then and there, even when the others in the dorms could see 
you had called your parents right after and were so happy, you couldn’t even get the words out and they could only half understand you
you knew it was going to be worth it and even though you almost aloud yourself to give up, you would be willing to do it all again
that's when you vowed to yourself: you were never going to give this up for anything
and even though you didn’t get the grades your parents really expected of you, it was ok
you were here, you made it 
meeting the rest of the bts members for the first time was something that you would always remember, and even though you would come to laugh at the first meeting with them in the future, it was hella embarrassing 
“hello, my name is y/n. please treat me kindly and i look forward to working with you.” 
well, at least that's what you tried to say
instead it came out more like this: “hello. y/n. nice working kindly with you, please treat me forwardly.”
yeah, you die every time you think about it. the look on their faces as you flush in embarrassment would become the faces of your paralysis demons for months afterward because god could you seriously be any more socially awkward?
the answer to that question was: of course you could!
even though you weren't the shyest (that would probably go to the youngest, jungkook) you were probably the one to mess up the most and then think about it in the most inopportune of times
like for example, it was one of your first dance practices together and you were thinking so hard about not messing up anything, you ran into the door on the way out of the practice room after it was over 
yeah, this time most of the members couldn’t hold back their laughs, and even though you knew it wasn't to make fun of you, you still flushed the color of crimson because christ what the hell is wrong with your brain function? 
your face was probably two shades redder permanently because of the amount of embarrassing moments you had still have
 that was probably the reason you become closer to jungkook first because (excluding the fact that the both of you were close in age, you only one year older) you were both the shyest
also, videogames who? ya’ll know her very well 
most of you and jungkook’s bonding moments came from your mutual love of videogames and the relationship was THRIVING 
“hey wanna play minecraft?” “kook it's two am.” “well then why are you still awake?” “to see how long it would take you to ask me to play minecraft. i already have the server open.” you both would then probably get blown up by creepers and you would yell before one of the others came scolded you both for staying up way to late and making noise
and once you bonded with jungkook, it was only natural that the rest of you bonded too (sharing a room does that to people)
when you were practicing the i need u choreo, for some reason your timing was off and you knew that but you just didn’t know where it went wrong and that one mistake was driving you crazy 
dancing was the thing you were supposed to be good at and that fact that you kept messing up weighed hard on you and made you lose confidence
but it was hoseok who had found you hours after practice had ended, laying down with your arms across your face because you were just so frustrated with yourself that you felt like crying and at this point hoseok had known you long enough that you weren’t the type to ask for help even if you needed it
“y/n, you ok?” 
“hyung, i-” you choked up and you got even angrier at yourself because are you really crying over this? 
hoseok rushed to your side and helped you sit up, but you didn't take your hands off your face 
he instead took your hands in his gently and swayed them back and forth, “yah~ it’s going to be alright.” he gave you a the hobi smile and you couldn’t help but lighten up 
he pulled you up and together the both of you practiced until jin forced you to come home and sleep because “they had already missed dinner, god damnit.”
you nailed the choreo almost every time after that
or when you were recording vocals for spring day and you kept messing up and your voice kept cracking and the other guys had already gone to their lunch break while you were still sitting in the studio, practicing your lines
the other seven sat in the practice room eating and got worried that you were going to miss lunch altogether so they nominated jimin to go collect you because they knew that you weren't confident in your voice even though they told you almost everyday that it was amazing
jimin walked in on you singing your part in the song and smiled at how smooth your voice sounded but then frowned when you suddenly stopped and cursed because “why can’t i sing? what the hell y/n.”
you had yet to see jimin enter the recording studio but you defineitly felt when he wrapped his hands around your torso in a comforting gesture
you relaxed in his hold and sighed out as he whispered in your ear, “your voice is perfect and it fits you y/n-ah. it’s going to be ok.” 
you teared up and turned around in his hold and properly hugged him. “i love you hyung.” 
and you really did, you loved all of them 
and you pride yourself on being the one that helps every one and makes sure they are doing alright, mentally and physically 
you would get scolded by your hyung's and occasionally by the maknae that you should look after yourself better and that it wasn’t your job to always look after everyone, even more so if you are younger 
like when you stay up late to wait up for yoongi to comeback from his studio even into the early mornings, and when he doesn’t you bring food and go to him instead because “i’m here for you hyung. and it's been awhile since I've seen you.” “it’s been four hours, y/n” “yeah, four hours to long.”
but he would eat the food you bring him anyway because he secretly likes your visits and wouldn’t trade them for anything
he always asks you if you’re ok though, “you getting enough sleep?” “why are you up so late?” 
you always answer honestly, “i’ve been staying up really late to get things done when i was a trainee, so i’m used to it. it kinda just happens now.”
he frowns but can’t really fault you because he does the same thing sometimes. but still, he doesn’t stan sleep depraviety 
or when namjoon gets stressed before interviews (it doesn't happen as much recently but it did when they were younger) especially ones where he had to speak english
you would always give him massages and reassure him that everything will be fine and that he was the best leader he could've asked for 
the way joon smiles with his dimples gets you melting every time and you can’t stop yourself from poking him and calling him cute just to tease him, even though he’s older
he always gets this blush on his face and swats at your hands, but he never does lose his smile
you try your best to learn english because you want to take some of his stress away and help him in any way you can 
and it’s because you all try to help and build up each other in any way you can, is why you all work so well and just flow together 
like how you and tae just casually switch clothes sometimes because “y/n has the best fasion sense in bts” and you because you just like the way he smells (which, for the love of god, you will never admit to him, or anybody, outloud) 
“hey y/n have you seen my purple hoodie?” then he would walk out of his room to see you covered in his hoodie eating ramen and smiles “never mind, i’ll just wear your white one” and then it’ll be your turn to smile
or when you assist jin in the kitchen because you actually really love cooking too and you two end up goofing off 
“hyung the pasta is gonna burn!” “aish, then stop distracting me with your childish antics!” “oh did you hear something? must be the wind.” and both of your laughter would echo out, making the other members smile and sometimes laugh along with you 
you’re also a regular on eatjin and army just love seeing the interactions between you two
but as much as you all get along, there are still many fights that happen because no relationship is perfect
it gets really stressful when you see members fight with each other because you have never been the one for conflict and would choose to avoid it when you could. you would always apologize first because you had a weak heart and hated when anyone was mad or upset at you
but sometimes the stress and pressure get to much and there are moments where they can't help but blow up at each other 
“damn it! why can’t you get this move right!” someone would say, after doing the dance for the fourth time 
“i’m learning it just like you are! calm down!” 
it would sometimes stop there and the two occupants would apologize and they would continue to work, helping each other when needed. other times it would escalate and you would sit and watch because what could you do?  
it would usually be one of the older ones to calm everyone down but practice would be cut short and there would be this tension in the air that felt suffocating and it comes to a point where you or someone else would end up speaking up and force the two to talk but they would become stronger and more understanding after the fight, because that's who they were and how they worked
but those were only small fights and you have only initiated them enough times to count on one hand, but the big fights are the ones who leave you feeling drained and powerless because you were never one show big acts of emotion so when you did you felt tired afterward
a big fight that you were apart of that really impacted your relationship with he wrest of the members happened all the way back in 2017 
you were more jumpy the past few months and the members knew you didn't get barely any sleep 
they also knew that you had been under fire from the media and haters because of a false rumor, and haters had been constantly pointing out your flaws and every little thing they could find wrong with you 
you had also lost a lot of weight and that's what really hurt them, they felt like they were slowly losing you and they had tried to bring it up with you a thousand times before, but you would just brush them off and tell that you were ok when they could clearly see that you weren’t 
it was when you fainted during a costume change in a concert that they drew the line
you had woken up later back in the dorm with about a million messages on your phone from news sites and family (and of course the other members to check on you to see if you were awake yet)
“y/n suddenly disappears from concert” “does y/n really care about army?” 
those where only a few titles that he saw on articles and it only added fuel to the fire for the false rumors and hate
you had sat on your bed that you presumed the medics dropped you off at and based on the time, it had been about an hour and a half and the concert should be wrapping up soon
and you cried.
the rumors, the hate, the other members treating you like you would break any moment. you were letting people down and oh my god, you actually were breaking and couldn't stop it 
it was already hard thinking about letting the fans down because they were your everything and you would go to any length to make them happy
but also letting your members down? your parents? 
that was excruciating 
because you had found seven other boys that you had grown so close to that you could count on but what were you if they couldn’t count on you?
when they came back after the concert all worn out and tired, their first thought was still about you and if you were ok 
the maknae line almost broke down in tears at the sight of your sleeping form and how it was very much apparent that you had cried. so much that your eyes were red and puffy and you had a deep frown on your face even in sleep
the hyung’s left to talk when the maknae’s got into your bed with you nd held you because they were legitimately scared that they wouldn’t see you again when you collapsed (jimin on your left, jungkook on your right, and taehyung after jimin) 
hobi was the first to speak when they closed your bedroom door. “we need to force him to do something.” 
namjoon sighed, “that might make it worse, hyung.” 
“well the medic said, just by looking at y/n, that he was malnourished and sleep deprived! i-i don’t know what to do!” his voice cracked and he went to sit on the couch, seokjin sitting down next to him to try to provide any comfort he could 
there was a silence that followed the group after the outburst and finally yoongi whispered out. “i’m so scared.” 
it was tired and broken and they all felt the same way he did
jin and hoseok fell asleep on the couch together while namjoon and yoongi retired to their own bedrooms, to tired from the events of the day 
everyone had woken up before you did and the somber mood from yesterday still permeated the air 
it was the most you slept in two months.
when you woke up, you probably felt worse than before
your face was swollen, your head was pounding, you were starving, and just all around miserable 
the members somewhat knew what you were going through. they knew that you felt like you had let the fans down and they were very conscious of the hate you were getting right now 
when you walked into the kitchen at eleven (all activities halted for the day. another thing that was your fault.) the rest of the boys were sitting around the table, talking about the best way to help you 
you had simply walked in and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, trying to avoid the others because you knew the conversation that was coming and you weren’t looking forward to it 
jin saw you first and got up from his chair and gently held your wrist to prevent you from leaving
“come here, you need to eat y/n-ah.” he said softly. he then pulled you over to the table, and you let him 
everyone went quiet and you just simply put your head down on the table because what could you say? that you were fine? because it was very obvious you weren’t 
when jin came back with a plate of food, he gently massaged your neck until you sat up and taehyung sitting on your other side held your hand
jin feed you himself when you made no move to and they were happy to see you eat more than you usually did, but not enough to fully sustain you 
when he saw you wouldn’t eat anymore, jin sighed and pushed the food away. he went back to massaging your neck as you put your head back down on the table 
namjoon spoke up from across you, “how are you feeling?” he spoke softly 
“mm head hurts.” your voice was raspy and even softer 
“we need to talk to you.” yoongi then said and this was the moment you were dreading the most 
they tried to get you to talk about how you were feeling mentally and tried to be there for you but when namjoon brought up doctors and medication is when you broke 
you even surprised yourself when you started yelling (this was probably the first time you really did at them)
“i’m already messed up enough as it is! i don’t need more flaws that will just bring everyone down! is that what you really think? that i’m that messed up?” 
they tried so hard to keep calm but you were slowly driving yourself insane and what you were saying was also just so hurtful that they couldn’t help but get heated back 
jimin was quick to catch you when you started swaying on your feet because your head was still pounding and it was getting hard to breathe and you couldn’t focus on anything, the others voices blurring together around you 
you had to lean back against him and you heard him say something but you couldn’t make out what it was because you couldn’t breathe and your lungs were heaving because you needed air
the voices around you became softer and there were hands trying to sooth you but nothing was working
it wasn’t until there was a soft whisper that you heard in your ear from someone that told you to “breathe for me y/n. please breathe for me baby.” 
you then took a big breath and then another and another and the others began to breathe again too once they realized your panic attack was over 
you couldn't help the sobs that escaped you and it was just so heart broken and scared that others teared up with you 
hoseok hugged you from the front as jimin was still supporting you from the back and you clung to him. “i’m so scared” and “i’m sorry”  were the only two phrases you could seem to get out at the moment 
“it’s not your fault. it never will be your fault.” and they would feel guilty because they knew you just needed help and they couldn’t fault you for getting upset because the media could be so harsh 
it got even worse when you would later admit that you just didn’t want to bring them down because of course you would think like that. them before you, always 
so they stayed by your side every waking second and became even more clingy if possible because dammit, it was ok to let yourself be takin care for once and a while and this time they were going to make you take care of yourself before you took care of them 
when you were diagnosed with anxiety and sleep medication, they were with you every step of the way and made sure that you were taking them properly because they knew you still were against the idea of taking medication. it had the chance of getting out, and the media didn’t look kindly upon idols who had to resort to such 
jungkook would be the one, more often than not, to make sure you take them, and on bad nights the only thing that would get you to comply is when he would say “if you take them it will help me sleep better.” 
and it always worked because he knew you would do anything to make sure they were happy
the road to recovery was hard and there were of course ups and downs but at the end of the day, you had them and you couldn't imagine what your life would be like if you didn’t
the fights, the laughter, the crying, you would go through it all again if it meant you would get to stay with them
life as an idol wasn’t easy, but with them, it was just that much easier and you couldn’t ask for a better family 
yeah, they were your family 
and when you stood up on that stage, tearing up to see all yours fans chanting your names, you knew this was worth it
because you had made it, you built yourselves from the ground up and had loyal fans that would do almost anything for you and that support was worth more than anything 
so no longer was your dream to just become an idol and have fans. no, it was so much bigger than that 
you evolved and your dream along with you
you truly loved your fans and more than that, the family and community you had helped create along with the rest of these amazing boys that you were proud to call your everything 
so standing up on that stage, you cried tears of joy because in this moment, there was no place you would rather be 
and afterward you all would cuddle, because who wouldn’t love that, right?
[end]
end note: this was seriously too long and i enjoyed writing this wayyy to much. like i seriously made myself cry?? the part with the panic attack?? i swear i almost ugly sobbed omfg. also, would anyone be interested in seeing other parts to this? like i would absolutely love to take requests for this and make it a mini series if ya’ll are interested in something like that. i just love you guys to much lmao 
also sorry if there was any mistakes, apparently i like writing at ass o'clock in the morning where my one braincell can barely function so there are probably many of them, but i was just so excited to get this out and so i didn’t read over it jsfjkgb
~**~ masterlist
taglist: @boba-tea1206​
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finn-wolfhard · 4 years
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I need me some quality content and this is the best place for it. Could I get some being Steve's sister and dating Robin? (If that already exists somewhere then please direct me to it bc this idea is like crack to me) Thanks!!
Yo! I've just gotten back into Tumblr since quarantine has given me an abundance of time. I can guess that you ended up getting this elsewhere, anon, but for the folk who also want to read about wlw Robin B and Big Bro Steve - this ones for you! 
Enjoy x
I Do 
“Turn that shit down! GOD! I feel I’m listening to them in concert.” Steve was screaming from downstairs for me to turn my music down and before I could move an inch to do so, he barged through the door. “Look, I don’t want another complaint from Mrs. Fritz next door. Can you please turn it down. I promised mom and dad that the roof would still be on this place by the time they got home. I’m heading to work. The money for delivery is on the table. Just try not to get yourself into bother, OK?” 
“Yeah, sure, sorry Steve. What time will you be home?” our parents are both out of town on business and so Steve has been appointed man of the house. Last time we were left alone, Mrs. Fritz called the police on us, placing a noise complaint. It was just me playing my radio a little bit too loud in my room. My bedroom window is right next to her living room. 
“I’ll be home around 8. Do you want to wait till I’m home to order pizza?”
“Sure thing, dude” I answered, giving him a thumbs up and a grin.
“You’re a goof. I’ll see you at 8.”
Steve and I’s relationship is reasonably good for the average brother and sister. He’s a year older than me and has the same interests. Such as; Hair, Pizza, our looks, and girls. I’ve known I’ve been into girls since I was a little kid but dad would kill me if I ever brought a girl home. Mom would be a little more understanding, yet still against the idea - and I don’t even know how Steve would react if he found out. I think he’s the only person I’d be fully comfortable telling, but I don't want to risk it going the complete opposite way.
I hear the door slam and decide to get out of my pajamas and actually DO something today. The schools broke up for summer last week and all I’ve been doing is reading, listening to music, and waiting for my best friend Jennifer to get home from vacation and tell me all about it. She’s due home in three days. I finally muster up enough self-motivation to move from my cozy, pink bed to the bathroom. The cold tiles under my feet wake me up and I stare at myself in the mirror for a bit. I had managed to grow a little spot just below my hairline (which I quickly treated with zit cream) but that was about as far as the flaws went. I usually take good care of myself; drinking enough, taking my vitamins, brushing my teeth after every meal. I do care about my looks and I shouldn’t be ashamed of that. It helps gets me a lot of attention in school, and I’ve never been an outcast. I guess having Steve as a big brother does contribute to the high school fame, but I don’t let it get to me much. I'm just glad I’ve gotten through high-school without being bullied at least once. I looked at my scraggly hair. I had just had a perm done two weeks ago and it seemed to be holding up pretty well. I scrunched my hair to make it look nice and messed it up a bit to give it volume. 
In the kitchen, there was the money on the table, like Steve said, and a note next to it. 
Save me a slice! Steve :)
He must’ve written the note then realized that a slice won't suffice after a long shift at his dorky Scoops Ahoy! job, and asked me to wait up for him. It's a shame people don’t get to see this side of Steve and I. I know how we come across to other people. I’ve heard the odd remark here and there about how he’s a player and I’m a priss. It mostly comes from the social outcasts in the school, the ones who aren’t in our friend circles, and don’t get to see what we’re really like. Even then, our school personalities are a bit of a performance to uphold our popularity. Only Steve knows my real self and vice verses, and we both understand why it has to be like that. Its an unspoken rule type thing. 
I open the fridge and get some milk for cereal. I pour a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. Fred smiles at me from the box as I grab the phone off the wall and dial Amanda’s number. 
“Hey Mands, you want to go to the mall today”
“y/n! Hi! That sounds great. I need a new outfit for my date with Justin on Friday.”
“Cool, so, 12? That sound ok?”
We agreed on 12:30 (since she had to take her dog on a walk) and she suggested we meet outside the Gap. Soon enough, 12:30 rolls around and I see Amanda smiling wildly at me, where she said she'd be, outside the Gap. She sweeps me into a warm hug and we gush about how much we’ve missed each other since school broke up. 
“Ok, so I need to go to Claires to get some earrings.” I agree to help her find a pair that would, quote “make Justin harder than math.” I don’t really understand how a pair of earrings could do this to a guy, or even if guys pay attention to earrings at all, but I was open to being proved wrong. We start making our way to the stairs when Amanda realizes she’s suddenly craving ice cream. I put it down to the fact that there were Scoops Ahoy! Adverts on every trash can (I’m unsure if that is a sign or not). We make a detour to Steve’s work and I make a plan to pull a few strings to get a free cone or two. We enter the ice cream parlor and… Steve isn’t there. Instead, a girl with short blonde hair is serving the queue of customers. 
I squint at her, trying to remember her name. Rosie? No, that's not it. It begins with an R for definite. Its to do with an animal… a R-R-Robin! Her name is Robin. And she’s…pretty? Like, really pretty. And not very girly? I can’t tell since she’s wearing a silly uniform… but god, is she pretty. 
As I’m staring at her, a slew of slurs come racing into my mind. Slurs I panicked were being shouted at me down the halls but never were. They were always aimed…at her. At Robin. Words beginning with D and F that make my blood boil. Chip, A boy in my own friend group, muttering “Stay away from my sister, homo!” In class. I put a hand up to my mouth to hide a gasp. This girl was outed, by someone she thought was her friend from band, in Hawkins - which isn’t known for being the most accommodating and accepting town.
Amanda and I reach the front of the queue and I find myself unable to look directly at the girl serving me. 
“Hi! Welcome to Scoops Ahoy! What can I get you today?” She seemed overly enthusiastic for some reason. 
“Hi, is Steve here?” I say, breaking the awkwardness I had built up in my own mind. She looked away, disheartened? I couldn’t tell. 
“Steve, your sisters here” then she whispered something that sounded like “you can leave your little nerd friend to figure it out for a bit” but I wasn’t really sure. 
Steve appeared from around the corner.
“what do you want, squirt?” 
“2 sundaes please” I replied, smiling.
“that will be five dollars pleas-“
“STEVE! Can’t you gift your baby sister with a sundae for once?” I cut him off, appalled that he’s making me pay, but still keeping it lighthearted. 
“…fine. But only this ONE TIME” he shot back. I winked at him, thanked him, and waited for him to finish our sundaes. He brought them over and sat with us. 
“Who’s that girl?” I instantly questioned, trying not to sound too interested but failing miserably.
“Oh, that's Robin Buckley. She’s in your year at school, don’t you know her?” I do know her. But I don’t want to admit that yet, I want to play it cool.
“I think I’ve seen her around yeah, I’ve just never had a good look at her before. I think she’s in my social studies class?” I look to Amanda to ask this question but Amanda is already nodding by this point. Steve looks unconvinced. 
“well, I invited her for pizza tonight,” he said, not wanting to ask ‘is that ok?’ In front of Amanda to keep up his macho ‘I’m Steve Harrington’ persona. I glance over at Robin. By this time, she’s known as lovely Robin in my head. Not that I could help it, along with the butterflies in my stomach or the extreme excitement that she was going to be having dinner. With me. In my house. Tonight!… What am I doing? Get a grip of yourself! You’re not out - as if that is ever going to happen anyways - and Robin was coming for Steve. Of course she was. I mentally roll my eyes. Just my luck.
The rest of the day goes by pretty quickly. Amanda gets her outfit and ‘math’ earrings - which I still don’t understand - and I get a few cute t-shirts and skirts thanks to my allowance mom gave me before she went away. By the time I get home, it is 4 pm which means I have precisely 4 hours to get myself ready for tonight. I go to my room, read for a bit, then put my makeup on in my vanity mirror. I don’t want to mess this up, but then again, why am I caring so much?. I eventually get myself sorted and wait for 8 pm to roll around. At 7:45 I phone Hal’s Pizza Shop and order 2 pepperoni pizzas and 1 plain Margherita. I came to the decision that If Robin is vegetarian then she can have the just cheese, but if not, I’ll take it.  
I hear Steve’s key in the lock and he shouts to me from downstairs.
“Hey that's me back, y/n, did you order the pizza?” 
“Sure did!” I came to the top of the stairs and looked down at the front door. Robin was staring up at me and I couldn’t help staring at her back. Steve obviously missed this whole exchange of tension.
“Good! Because I’m starving. I’m gonna put a video on, anyone down for watching Indiana Jones?” He mimics a whipping sound and runs off to the living room, leaving Robin and me to awkwardly start a conversation. 
“So, you work with Steve. I’ll apologize on your employer's behalf.” I laugh, eventually. Robin looked relieved that I had said something, and even more so that it was a joke. 
“It's not as bad as you would think, he brings in loads of customers with that ‘magnificent hair’” she replies, making fun of Steve’s obsession with his, admittedly, perfect mane. 
“I’ve seen you about school before, sorry I’ve never talked to you before,” I said. I really meant it, she seems cool. And kinda hot? But that wasn’t important to me…
“Yeah, I guess our groups don’t tend to mix as much. I'm surprised you even know my name” she looks at her feet. She knows I know about the slurs and bullying, I can tell. Just then, there's a ring at the door and Steve reappears, running to get the door that we are standing 2 inches away from. 
After sitting, eating, chatting, and laughing our way through Indiana Jones, I realise Steve has fallen asleep beside me. So does Robin. We both snicker at him and then collectively tuck him in with the blankets on the back of the sofa. We sit in silence for a minute. 
“Robin. I want to say I'm sorry for all the stuff you get called at school. It's not cool and especially from my group-“
“it's fine” she cuts me off. She seems distant though. 
“I don’t think you understand what it does to me hearing people shout words like that at someone. It's inhuman,” Robin looks at me over her cup of hot chocolate Steve made us halfway through the movie. She looks on the verge of tears. “I mean, I don’t know how I would cope with that if people knew I was one too.” I look away from her confused stare in embarrassment. Robin is the first person I tell this massive secret to and I've only been in her company for the past 3 hours? But it felt right. It felt too right, almost.
Robin picks herself up from her space in the armchair and comes to sit on the arm of the sofa. She doesn’t hesitate to put her arm around my shoulders and squeeze me in for a side hug. I hadn’t realized that I had started to cry and I wipe my eyes and nose with the back of my hand. 
“I’m so sorry they said those things to you” I whispered while silently sobbing.
“Don’t worry about it, y/n, I have pretty thick skin when it comes to bullying. I've been in band for the past 3 years,” I look at her and let out a small laugh. The smile fades from her lips and a serious look takes over her face. “You don’t need to feel ashamed. Or embarrassed. I’m honored you told me, I know how much trust that takes. Thank you.” 
We sit embracing for a couple of minutes and I try to defuse the tension. “You know, I think you’re pretty hot.” She laughs, and I can feel the heat radiating off of her. She’s blushing. 
“You’re not too bad yourself, Harrington,” she gives me a small smile. “I think you’re the prettiest girl in our year.” Now it was my turn to blush. I’m not sure if she’s saying this out of courtesy, sympathy, or if she really means it. 
“You don't have to say that” I roll my eyes and let out an embarrassed giggle. 
“I do.” She whispers back, the darkness multiplying the tension by 10. After a while of nervous silence, not sure what to say next, Robin asks you a question.
“I hope I’m not out of line for saying this, and you can one hundred percent say no,” I looked at her, questioningly, “but why don’t we go out sometime? We can go to the park or we can go to the cinema. Your choice… if you want-if you want to.” She was visibly nervous. In the pitch black, with only the dim glow from the paused movie TV static lighting up the room, I agreed to go on a date with her (”I’d like that”). We both can tell the other is excited but can also tell the other is exhausted. Robin moves back over to the armchair, which was just big enough for a teenage girl to curl up in, and I curl up to my sound asleep brother. It takes a while to finally get to sleep, but I can’t help my mind doing laps, thinking about my future date with Robin Buckley. 
111 notes · View notes
dlwritings · 5 years
Text
Inexplicably in Love | Steve Harrington
masterlist found here
pairing - Steve Harrington x plus-size!reader word count - 3,318 warnings - insecure reader is insecure A/N - takes place in between seasons 2 and 3 - idk I’m crying but it’s whatever
This one’s for the anon who requested it and for all my plus size gals who don’t look like Ashley Graham. (No shade to Ashley. She rocks. I just don’t always feel like she represents my kind of plus size.) Some of us don’t have sexy curves. Some of us are just mushy. But you know what? We’re cute! And someday we’re going to have non-fictional Steve Harringtons who love us and our beautiful squishy bodies. And someday we’re going to love our own squishy bodies without the validation from someone else. I already love ya’ll. Also to my squishy guys and non-binary pals! I see you. You’re all gorgeous, and I love you too.
summary - You’re having an off day riddled with insecurities about yourself. Lucky for you, Steve is the sweetest boyfriend on the planet and knows just what to say and do to make you feel a little bit better.
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It was Friday night, and you had plans with your boyfriend, Steve.
Boyfriend. Even after almost seven months, the word still felt weird coming out of your mouth attached to Steve Harrington’s name.
Steve had been working at Scoops Ahoy for about a month, and he wasn’t crazy about it. He felt indifferent about his only coworker, Robin, and some of the customers who came in on the daily drove him up the wall (*cough cough* Erica *cough cough*). The one plus side was that every other Friday, he got to close, and on those Fridays, there was usually a new shipment of ice cream. So on Thursday, he would make sure you were mentally prepared to come to the back entrance of the parlor the next night when the rest of the mall was closed so you could try the new flavors together. It had happened only three times so far that summer, but it was easily Steve’s favorite part of the job.
And usually, you were excited for it too. You and Steve would try all the flavors and usually make out in the back until your butt got sore from sitting on the counter. And then you’d go make out in his car until your curfew. It was a fun routine.
It was just that, today, you weren’t feeling so hot. No, you weren’t sick, and you didn’t have a headache or anything. You were just having one of those days. One of those days where every outfit you put on was wrong, and your tummy looked too pudgy from every angle, no matter how hard you tried to hold it in. You spent the entire day in bed, only getting up to shower in the morning, grateful you didn’t have a job you needed to go to. Your parents were at work all day, and your mom only came in your room when she got home to say hi and ask if you had eaten dinner already. You lied and said you had.
On these days, when your insecurities ate away at you, you needed to lay in bed and sulk. It was like purging for you. You just had to get rid of all the bad feelings so you could feel refreshed and put on your happy face again.
The truth was, you were never confident or outgoing or extroverted or popular. You honestly had no idea why Steve was attracted to you in the first place. You looked nothing like any girls he had been with in the past. And you weren’t really friends in high school. He wasn’t mean to you or anything. You actually sat by each other in most of the classes that you had together and often got in trouble for whispering, passing notes, or snickering during a lecture. Still, that didn’t mean you were friends. At least not in your mind.
You were Dustin’s neighbor and would sometimes get roped into babysitting him. This happened the day he trapped “Dart” in his cellar, and it changed your relationship with Steve. And, you supposed, with everyone else involved. Just, obviously, not in the same way.
From that night on, you and Steve were inseparable. It didn’t take long for the two of you to become official. And you were happy. Genuinely, really happy. You just still didn’t get it. And it wasn’t easy to be in a relationship you didn’t understand. You were constantly questioning it. Always wondering if Steve had some twisted ulterior motive. And you could never go out with him in public without noticing all the people staring. You knew what they were wondering. It was what you were so often wondering.
What is he doing with her?
Today, you had to shake all those thoughts away and go be with Steve. It was 9:30, and he was expecting you around 10:00, so you dragged yourself out of bed and put on some clean clothes. (You has been wearing your pajamas all day, putting on a clean pair after you showered.) Your parents liked Steve, but you knew they wouldn’t be too thrilled if they knew you were leaving the house late at night to meet up with him. So, like usual, you opened your window and climbed out, glad that your room was on the first floor as your feet touched the grass. Your parents slept like a rock and turned in already at 9:00, so you started your car without fear of waking them up and made your way to Starcourt.
You tried giving yourself a pep talk throughout the whole drive. Today was just like any other day. You didn’t look any different than you did yesterday, and you felt fine yesterday. This was fine. Your jeans buttoned up, and your t-shirt fit over your stomach. What more could you ask for?
A tummy that wasn’t so round. Boobs that didn’t seem too small because your weight rested in your stomach. An ass that wasn’t flat above your thick thighs. You knew curvy girls could be beautiful too, but you weren’t like those curvy girls. You didn’t have a round ass and big boobs. You were just meh. Just kind of there. 
You pulled into the mall’s parking lot feeling no better about yourself than you had when you left your house. You pulled down your car visor and opened the mirror, practicing your bright smile for Steve. You added some lipstick for good measure. If you could flash your pearly whites behind some killer red lips, Steve would be clueless to how sad you actually were. You loved Steve, but he could be so oblivious sometimes.
Steve was waiting for you outside the usual back door with his silly sailor costume on, sans the hat as usual. He greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and let you inside the mall. “We got three new flavors,” he said as you made your way through the back hallways. “Strawberry cheesecake, caramel chocolate chip cookie dough, and brownie fudge swirl.”
“Sounds good,” you said. “Did you try any yet?”
“What? No!” Steve laughed. “I waited for you. It’s tradition.”
“It’s also tradition for you to steal a scoop and pretend like I don’t notice,” you teased. Steve shrugged but didn’t attempt to fight the smile on his face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweets,” he said. “I would never set sail on my ocean of flavor without you.”
When the two of you got into the kitchen, you jumped up on the counter next to the freezer. Steve smiled and walked over to you, passing the freezer and focusing only on you. “What’s on your mind, sailor?” you teased, putting your arms over his shoulders so you could twist your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck. Steve didn’t usually let people touch his hair, but he had a soft spot for you, so he let you do it.
And who was he kidding? He was like a puppy. He absolutely adored it.
“You look gorgeous tonight,” he said, putting his hands on your waist.
“Steve,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “I look gross. I’ve been in bed all day.”
“You have?” he said, sounding genuinely confused. And that was fair. You didn’t usually spend an entire day in bed. Usually you sat outside on your front porch with a book or went out to the store just to get out of the house. “Are you feeling okay?”
“‘M fine,” you said, moving your hands from Steve’s hair. You needed a subject change. “Alright, let’s try this ice cream!”
Steve obliged, grabbing his ice cream scoop and then reaching into a cabinet for some plastic spoons and paper cups. You were grateful he didn’t seem to notice your odd behavior.
But he did. Steve wasn’t as clueless as people thought, especially not when it came to you. He could tell something was wrong, and he had a hunch he knew what it was. When you were wearing your bright red lipstick (the one you only kept in your car), 99 out of 100 times, you were having one of your off days. Steve thought you were beautiful, but he knew you didn’t think the same. Some days it was easy to convince you to see your beauty. Other days it was harder.
Steve opened the freezer and dished out two scoops of each flavor into three bowls with one flavor in each bowl. He handed you a spoon and kept one for himself. “First up,” he said dramatically, “strawberry cheesecake.” You both took a spoonful, clinked your spoons together to cheers, and took your first bites of ice cream.
The routine continued for all three flavors until you decided on a favorite: the caramel chocolate chip cookie dough. You were both all smiles as you continued to eat your ice cream, sometimes feeding each other spoonfuls because you were just that adorable.
Steve started to throw everything away and clean up the rest of the back room, and you stared at your feet. “Hey Steve?” you said, looking up at him.
“Yeah?” he said, flashing you a sweet smile.
“Is there anything you don’t like about yourself?” you asked. “Like, about how you look.” Steve let out a low whistle and leaned his back against the table across from you.
“That’s a loaded question,” he said. “Why do you ask?” You just shrugged and stared down at your lap. “Well, I mean, of course I do.”
“You do?” you asked, looking up at him.
“Everyone does,” he said.
“But, like what?” you said in genuine disbelief. “You’re-” You cut yourself off and motioned to him. Steve laughed and ran his hand through his hair.
“Sometimes I don’t think I’m muscular enough,” he said. “I’m kinda scrawny. And I can’t grow facial hair very well. And I have a square head.”
“A square head?” you repeated, unable to hold back your giggle. “What are you talking about? You don’t have a square head.”
“Yes I do,” he said. He turned his head to different angles, trying to prove the fact to you. You just rolled your eyes and put your hands behind you, leaning back on your arms.
“You’re ridiculous,” you said.
“Why’re we even talking about this?” he asked, stepping closer to you. He opened your legs so he could stand between them.
“I don’t like my tummy,” you said. It was matter-of-fact. There was no reason to skirt around the edge with Steve. “It’s too pudgy. And my boobs and my ass suck because my weight just carries weird. I’m like-” You thought. “I’m like the Michelin Man. The Michelin Woman.”
Steve scoffed, “Who’s ridiculous now?”
“I’m not being ridiculous!” you said. “You know it’s true. Everyone knows it’s true. I’m a walking, talking marshmallow. You should just paint me white and make me sell tires.”
“Stop,” Steve said, furrowing his eyebrows. He put his hands on your waist, and you visibly cringed. You knew he was feeling your squishy sides. “(Y/N),” he said, putting his fingers under your chin and making you look up at him. You had been worrying your teeth into your lower lip to stop it from quivering. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. His voice was soft, but firm. “I love your body. Every part of it.”
“You don’t have to say that just because I’m whining,” you said, wiping a stray tear that had fallen down your cheek. “I didn’t mean to invite you to my pity party.”
“I’m not just saying that,” he said. “I could spend hours just holding you and touching you and kissing you.” You blushed and looked away from him again. He made you look at him. “I’m serious, (Y/N). I never get sick of your body.”
“You haven’t even seen all of my body,” you muttered. “I’m sure you’d find parts you didn’t like.”
“Have I ever given you the impression that I wouldn’t like what I saw?” he asked.
“You don’t know what I look like under all of this,” you said, motioning to your clothes. You had this aching feeling of shame in you, and nothing you were saying was making it go away.
“Jesus, I wish we weren’t having this conversation in Scoops fucking Ahoy,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I know that when I take off your clothes, there won’t be a supermodel underneath, but that’s not the point. 90 pounds, 100, 200, I don’t care. I love you because I think you’re beautiful, inside and out. And when I see you naked for the first time, it’s not going to change my mind.”
There were two things to note from Steve’s short speech.
The first was that he spoke in phrases of certainty. When I take your clothes off. When I see you naked. Not if. When. He wanted to, but more than that, he planned to.
The second was that he said I love you.
In seven months of dating, neither of you had ever uttered those words. Steve had a sketchy past with love, so he no longer tossed the word around lightly. You had never been in love before, and the idea of it scared you.
Yet there you both were: a sailor boy and his shy sweetheart. Inexplicably in love.
You hadn’t realized you were crying until you felt a tear slide down your nose. You wiped it away and sniffed. “You love me?” you said. Steve smiled and wiped some more tears from your cheeks.
“So much,” he said.
You didn’t ask him why, and you didn’t ask him if he was sure. That’s what people would expect you to do. Insecure girl needs proof that someone loves her. That was one stereotype you wouldn’t fulfill. Instead, you laced your fingers in his hair again and whispered, “Say it again.” Steve was happy to oblige.
“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he said, “I love you.” You let out something that sounded just as much like a laugh as it did a sob and kissed your boyfriend. He smiled and kissed you back, welcoming your body into his open arms.
“I love you too,” you muttered, pulling away only slightly and only for a millisecond. “In case that wasn’t clear.”
“Mm, good to know,” Steve joked. “And I just want you to know-” He pulled back a bit and pressed his forehead against yours. “-if we weren’t in this god forsaken ice cream parlor, I would be stripping you of every piece of your clothing so I could properly worship every-” He stopped and kissed down your jaw. “-part-” His lips settled at your neck, sucking at a spot that made you grab a fistful or his hair. “-of your-” He bit softly on the spot, certainly leaving a mark you’d have trouble covering in the morning. “-body.”
“We-” You breathed in sharply as Steve kissed the base of your throat and to the other side of your neck. “We don’t really have to be in this god forsaken parlor anymore though, do we?” Steve grinned against your skin and shook his head no.
“Hmm,” he hummed, nipping at the new spot he made. “I guess we don't.”
You and Steve each got in your respective cars and drove to Steve’s house. His parents, as usual, weren’t home, so the two of you headed up to his bedroom, unafraid of getting caught. Your lips were pressed to each other’s as you fumbled to Steve’s room, bumping into walls as you turned corners. When you got into his room, you both made your way over to the bed.
You wanted to say you were excited and eager, but mostly you were nervous and hesitant. Maybe you weren’t ready for this. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Steve, and it wasn’t that you didn’t love Steve. It wasn’t even your insecurities eating at you again. It was just … you weren’t sure. You just didn’t feel ready.
Still, you owed it to Steve, you knew. For the past seven months, you had been holding out on him for various reasons and now, you invited yourself over to his house and wanted to bail on the intimate activity Steve was expecting? That wasn’t fair. You could make yourself ready.
You truly underestimated how good Steve was at reading you. Your kisses slowed, and the hand that was inching its way under your shirt stopped its movements. Steve pulled back and looked at you, an understanding smile on his face. “You’re not ready,” he said, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. He was almost completely hovering over you, literally about to take off his clothes, and you weren’t ready? What the hell was wrong with you?
“No, I am,” you said, trying to get yourself to believe it too. “I am.”
“Hey,” Steve said, lifting his hand to stroke your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.” You covered your face with your hands in shame.
“I feel like I lead you on,” you whined. “All that stuff you said at Scoops, and-”
“Everything I said at Scoops will still be true tomorrow,” he said, pulling your hands away from your face, “and the next day, and next week, and next month. No matter how long it takes you, I’ll always mean what I said. I didn’t just say it to get in your pants tonight.” You couldn’t help but giggle, and Steve laid beside you, pulling you close to his chest.
“Why are you the nicest person in Hawkins?” you whispered, tracing the patterns of his Scoops uniform.
“Just in Hawkins?” he teased back. “Not the world? Not even Indiana?” You rolled your eyes with a smile and wrapped your arm around his waist. “Still, I feel like I shouldn’t be praised this much just for being a decent guy.”
“You’d be surprised how rare decent guys are,” you said back. Steve chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“Wanna spend the night?” he asked. “I-” He stopped to clear his throat and scratch the back of his neck. “I bought you some pajamas. They’re in one of my drawers.” You looked up at him.
“You did?” you asked. You couldn’t fit into Steve’s clothes, so whenever you spent the night there, you had to bring your own pajamas along with your change of clothes for the next day. Steve nodded and stood up from the bed, still rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly -a tick he had when he was nervous. He opened his top dresser drawer and pulled out a jersey style nightgown -much like the one you usually brought to his house- and a pair of short black shorts. He handed them to you with an almost embarrassed look in his eyes.
“I hope that’s not weird,” he said. “I guess I, I just figured it’d be easier in case, you know, in case something like this ever happened where you didn’t plan on staying, but you did, and then-” Steve had been so busy rambling that he hadn’t even realized you stood up from the bed and walked over to him. You startled him by placing a kiss to his lips. He relaxed instantly and kissed you back, resting his hands on the small of your back.
“I love you,” you whispered when you pulled away. Steve smiled and brushed his nose against yours.
“I love you too.”
In a relationship, you didn’t need someone to tell you you weren’t fat, because you were, and that was okay. What you needed was someone who took your needs into consideration and made you feel safe, comfortable, and loved, no matter your own insecurities. There was no one who could do that for you quite like Steve Harrington.
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658 notes · View notes
bilbos · 4 years
Text
Fine Print || Anthony Beauvillier
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Word Count: 3.3k
requested: yes || no
author’s note: this was written as part of @makarcales​ secret gift exchange! I wrote this for @titobeauvilliers​ <3
~ ~ ~
It’s almost 11pm when you make it to the store to buy ingredients for some soup. Normally, you’re not up this late, but your roommate Sadie has only gotten progressively sicker as the night has gone on. Winter in New York is no joke and colds are like a disease in the city. Considering that it’s winter break at NYU, and therefore no classes, you decide that it’s fine that you probably won’t get any sleep tonight to help her out.
As you’re walking down one of the aisles to get some chicken broth, you see a guy about your age squinting at a can of tomato sauce. He places it back and then grabs another one and squints at that one as well.
“Do you…need help?” you ask hesitantly as you get closer to him.
“Um, maybe,” he answers, blushing. “I didn’t think to put in contacts before I left my apartment. And I didn’t have my glasses in my backpack like I thought I did.”
You laugh. “So, what are you looking for?”
“Just some tomato sauce without chunks. I’m in the mood for some pasta and no place is delivering any this late. At least, any that are worth eating.”
“Your sight must be bad because both of the ones you’re holding are both chunky and the pictures show that.”
He blushes even more and puts both cans back. You step around him and grab a couple cans of the non-chunky tomato sauce and hand them over to him. He smiles softly as he grabs them.
“Thank you so much,” he says.
“No problem. You need help finding noodles or anything else?”
“I have everything else at home, so this should be good. I really appreciate this.”
He walks off and you just shake your head. Now it’s time to grab the rest of the ingredients for the soup you’re making.
~ ~ ~
When you get back to your apartment, you tell Sadie about what had happened. She just laughs before going on another coughing spree. It sucks seeing her like this, but your mom’s chicken noodle soup always helps a little bit.
“Seriously, you didn’t have to do this,” Sadie whispers hoarsely.
“You’re my best friend, of course I’m going to do this,” you reply. “It’s honestly the least that I could do, you know? Besides, it’s not like I could have slept anyways.”
“And this is why I love you,” she replies. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Of course you do. We deserve each other after everything we’ve been through.”
She just smiles sadly, looking off into the distance. The two of you hardly talk about your life before coming to NYU, and for good reason. Living with your best friend is honestly the best decision you could have made and you can’t come to regret moving so far from home.
Making the rest of the soup passes in silence. You’re not sure what Sadie is thinking about, but it’s hard not to think about life before this. It wasn’t easy being raised the way the two of you were, but even though it sucked, your glad it landed the two of you in such a great place now.
Once you finish making the soup, it’s just past 1am. You dish the two of you up a large bowl of soup and put the rest in a large Tupperware. Sadie takes her bowl to the couch, turning on the TV and trying to find something on Netflix.
“Might as well make it an all-nighter,” she says. “I don’t see myself sleeping any time soon and it’s not like we have class tomorrow anyways.”
“That’s true,” you say. “I’m just going to apologize if I fall asleep now, though.”
“I’ll appreciate your company nonetheless, though.”
She finds a cheesy romantic comedy to turn on, and the two of you sit in silence, watching it all unfold. Halfway through the movie, Sadie grabs your bowl to set it down in the sink. When she sits back down, she turns towards you.
“What if your life turns into a rom-com with the guy you met at the store today?” she asks, seriously.
“That would be absolutely ridiculous, Sadie,” you answer. “It was a one-time thing and New York is such a big city. The chances of me running into him again are very slim.”
“But that would make it extra cute.”
“And I seriously doubt that it’ll happen.”
“Just let me have some fun with it, okay? I mean, he was super cute and he was blushy around you.”
“Yeah, because he was embarrassed, not because of anything else.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” she replies. “And yeah, I know you probably won’t see him again, but it wouldn’t hurt to just imagine it for a bit.”
“I could go in so many different directions with that,” you joke.
Sadie just rolls her eyes as she turns back to the movie.
~ ~ ~
It’s a week later and near the end of your winter break when you’re back at the store again. Now it’s well past midnight and you’re trying to find some junk food. You and Sadie were pulling another all-nighter to binge watch some movies that the two of you had been wanting to watch when you ran out of snacks. Sadie insisted that you had to be the one to go pick it up in case you ran into the tomato guy again.
As your walking down one of the isles in pursuit of some ice cream, you see him again, staring at a pack of cookies. He sets one pack down only to pick up another to stare at the ingredient list. Unsure if he could actually read the ingredients or not, you decide to go over and ask.
“Did you remember to wear your contacts this time?” you ask.
His head snaps over to you and squints. “I can’t believe you have to see me like this again.”
“Seems to be fate. And I’ll take that as a no.”
He sighs. “I just got back from a trip and I wanted some cookies, but I don’t want anything with too much sugar in it.”
“You do realize that you’re buying brand-name cookies, right? I don’t think there’s a low-sugar option available.”
“Please let me just live in denial.”
You laugh. “I guess so. Do you want help or are you just going to take a shot in the dark?”
“I guess I could use some help. I’m just debating between these three.”
He holds out packages of Oreos, Chips Ahoy, and the store brand. You figure the Oreos are a safe bet and hold them over to him.
“Thank you so much,” he says. “I’m Anthony, by the way. If we keep meeting like this, I figure you should at least know my name.”
“I’m y/n,” you reply. “Do you go to school here or something?”
“I actually work here.”
“Oh, that’s cool. It’s killer trying to find a job here, so good on you for finding one. I’m not sure if I’ll find something that can pay the bills by the time I graduate.”
“Yeah, I got super lucky. But, um, I should probably go. It’s getting pretty late.”
“Oh, yeah, I should start getting the rest of what I came here for. Sadie is waiting for me.”
He waves goodbye as he walks off.
~ ~ ~
Sadie smiles smugly when you tell her about what had happened at the store.
“It’s honestly fate,” she says. “I mean, running into him again? And you got his name!”
“I’ll wait until I see him again. Third times a charm, right?”
“I still can’t believe you saw him again though! I was hoping you would, but I didn’t actually believe it.”
“Yeah, I guess it is weird. But I’m not going to chalk it up to anything besides we both like to go to the store late at night,” you reply. “Besides, I’m not sure how much I’d even have the chance to see him once school starts up again. I’d like to keep a normal sleep schedule.”
“But that’s no fun!”
“It’s no fun, but it’ll help reduce my suffering. And I’m graduating soon, too, I’d like to not be dead before then.”
“Ugh, I thought I told you to not talk about graduating. I don’t want to face the real world yet.”
“That’s what grad school is for.”
“Okay, true, but I also don’t want to be in debt even more.”
You snort. “Well, you should make up your mind. It’s a little late now to apply, but I don’t see why you can’t go next year.”
“Only if you get into the same program. I refuse to struggle through school without my best friend there.”
“That’s the dream, huh?”
“My other dream happens to be us working together and staying here in NYC.”
“That’s a good dream.”
~ ~ ~
A month later and you’re suffering through schoolwork. You knew that your senior year was going to be tough, but the amount of work never stops surprising you. Sadie is in the same boat and the two of you decide to make some progress at a local café the both of you love. The two of you are sitting close together and she keeps playfully hitting you every time you try to get her to focus.
“I’m just trying to get us to finish this faster so that I can go to bed at a reasonable time tonight. I feel like I’m a zombie.”
“If you’re a zombie, you’re the hottest one around,” Sadie says, a bit loudly.
At that exact moment, Anthony comes walking by your table and looks over, confused. When he sees you, he smiles brightly, excited to see you. You smile back and immediately realizing that he’s wearing glasses and this only makes him more attractive.
“Oh, hey, y/n,” he greets. “Is this Sadie?”
“Yep, I’m Sadie,” she replies. “Best thing that’s ever happened to her.”
“Oh my god, don’t listen to her. We’ve been attached at the hip for the last couple of years, but it’s more because she inserted herself into my life,” you explain.
“That’s nice,” he says, smile dimming a bit. “Are you doing school work?”
“Yeah, just trying to finish up, but Sadie is being distracting.”
She smiles widely. “So, are you Anthony? Y/n told me about you.”
“Oh god, I can’t believe you told people about that,” he groans.
You shrug. “I tell Sadie everything.”
“Well, I’ll keep that in mind if I ever see you at the store again,” he replies. “I should be going, though, I’m meeting up with a couple of friends soon and I just wanted some coffee before heading over. I’ll see you soon?”
“Oh, sure,” you say.
When Anthony gets in line, Sadie shoves you. “Oh my god, you didn’t tell me how hot he was. Now you have to get his number.”
“I don’t know. I know I said I would, but it feels kind of weird asking someone you barely know for their number.”
“Okay, but you get to know him better by asking for his number.”
“Just leave it, okay? I’d really rather not deal with this right now.”
Sadie sighs and goes back to working on her paper. She knows better than to push you too much, knowing that if you really wanted to, you would have had no issue asking for Anthony’s number. When he finally gets his coffee, he waves at you and Sadie.
~ ~ ~
“God, Mat, she has a girlfriend,” Anthony groans. “And they look so cute together.”
“Did they say that they were dating?” Mat asks.
“Well, no, but it sure did seem like it. And y/n said that they’ve been attached at the hip. Doesn’t that mean that they’re basically dating?”
“Or it could mean that they’re really good friends.”
“Okay, but you didn’t see how they were acting together. I really thought that I was going to have a chance with her.”
“Dude, I l know that this sucks, but you’ll be able to move on. Or just be her friend. Just because you can’t date her doesn’t mean the two of you can’t still be good friends.”
Anthony just sighs and leans back into the couch. He can’t deny that it’ll be hard for him to just be friends with you, but he also wants to just know you more. Mat just looks on sympathetically.
“Maybe when I see her again, I can give her and Sadie tickets to one of our games or something.”
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea. I’d like to meet them.”
~ ~ ~
The next time you see Anthony is at the store (again) in the vegetable aisle. He’s acting a little odd, but seems excited to see you again nonetheless.
“Fancy seeing you here,” you greet. “I have to say, it’s weird seeing you here at a normal time.”
“Ah, yeah, it is,” Anthony replies, a bit awkwardly. “Um, I was wondering if you and Sadie might want to come to a game of mine.”
“A game?”
“Yeah, a hockey game. It’s what I play,” Anthony explains. “We have an evening game next Saturday.”
“Oh yeah, that would be a lot of fun! How much are tickets?”
“I’d actually be reserving them for you. No need to pay.”
“That would be amazing. Do you think you could reserve three? Sadie is having her boy over that weekend and I’d love to have him come with.”
“Yeah, I could do that.”
“What stadium are you guys playing at?” you ask.
“We’re at Barclays,” Anthony answers, visibly confused.
You’re not sure why he’s acting confused, but you just assume that he told you at some point and you had forgotten.
“Just text me the details and I’ll see you there?” you say.
“Yeah, yeah, sounds good. See you then, I guess.”
~ ~ ~
“Mat, I think Sadie has a kid.”
“Tito, what the fuck? Where the hell did you get that idea?” Mat asks, concerned.
“Y/n said that Sadie’s boy would be visiting that weekend. I assume that means kid,” Anthony explains, visibly distressed.
“Dude, did you ever think that she would just be using some fancy slang for boyfriend?”
“But that would mean that the two of them weren’t dating and I really don’t think that’s the case. This is just too much.”
“You’re still going to invite them to the game though?”
Anthony groans. “Yeah, unfortunately. I just…don’t want to back out. And I feel like seeing them will help me from feeling things about y/n.”
“That is…so sad, dude.”
“I know, I don’t need you pointing that out.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Mat replies, teasingly. “But seriously, I think it’s all going to be fine.”
“God, I hope so.”
~ ~ ~
When you, Sadie, and James hop out of the Lyft at Barclays, you immediately notice how many people are there. The three of you exchange confused looks, not expecting this amount of people.
“Hey, y/n, I thought you said that they weren’t a big team,” James points out, staring at a large group of people wearing Islanders jerseys.
“I thought they weren’t a big team. He never talked about it, so I assumed it wasn’t a big deal. And the game is on a Saturday night, so that really didn’t help much,” you explain. “Plus, he never said who the team was, so I never figured to look into it.”
“So, uh, where are we picking up tickets again?” James asks. “Just the ticket station?”
“I think so?” you reply confused.
When the three of you get into line, you notice Sadie googling the Islanders and scrolling through the team roster. She finds Anthony’s picture and just hands over her phone.
“You’ve been talking to one of the team’s most popular players and you didn’t even know it!” Sadie exclaims.
“Nobody said sports were my strong suit,” you joke, while looking at his picture.
This whole thing felt surreal and you hand Sadie’s phone back in a daze. It feels weird because none of it is quite clicking in your head. When you get to the front of the line, you explain the situation and you get handed your tickets.
As the three of you make your way in, the three of you realize the seats you’re at are extremely good seats. In fact, the seats were right next to the glass. This only makes everything feel more overwhelming than it already is.
“Jesus, y/n, I can’t believe you didn’t know that he was a professional hockey player,” James says, astounded.
“Look, it’s not like work was a common topic for us. The first two times we met were in the middle of the night and I doubt either of us were very coherent,” you explain.
“Well, should make things fun now,” Sadie replies. “Oh, look, I think the game is starting!”
The whole game seems to pass in a blur and you don’t take a whole lot in. It’s overwhelming and a lot is passing through your head. Anthony doesn’t seem to be looking for you, which makes sense, but you still had some kind of hope that he would have been. After the game has ended, Anthony texts you asking you to wait for him.
“So, Anthony is asking us to meet him in the parking lot, but he’s apologizing for not having a car seat?” you say, confused.
“Why would we need a car seat? Is this some weird joke that you guys have that you didn’t tell me about?” Sadie asks.
“No, I would remember that. Maybe he didn’t mean to send that to me,” you say.
It takes almost forty-five minutes for Anthony to come out to the parking lot, and then he shoots Sadie and James a weird look. The two of them are just standing there, holding hands, so you aren’t sure what’s going on. He awkwardly waves at the three of you as he approaches.
“Uh, hey guys?” Anthony greets.
“Hey, Anthony! You already know Sadie, but this is her boyfriend, James,” you introduce.
Anthony shakes James’ hand in a daze. James raises an eyebrow at this, obviously sensing his confusion.
“So, um, this is going to sound really, really weird, but I thought James was your kid, Sadie. And I thought you were dating y/n,” Anthony explains.
“I mean, y/n didn’t realize you played in the NHL, so I think the two of you are almost even,” Sadie jokes.
“You didn’t know I played in the NHL?” Anthony inquires.
“It never came up, so I just assumed it was a small team or something” you reply, shrugging.
“You two are honestly so perfect for each other,” James remarks. “With how oblivious the two of you are, I think you’ll be perfectly happy.”
“James!” you exclaim.
Anthony blushes widely. “Um, I was going to invite you guys out for drinks or something, but…”
“I would love to go for drinks, but I also feel really overwhelmed right now?” you reply. “Maybe we could go for coffee tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I would like that,” Anthony says, with a small smile.
~ ~ ~
The two of you meet in the small coffee shop you saw each other in only a couple of weeks ago. You were pretty restless the night before, thinking about the amount of miscommunication both of you had. In all honesty, you were extremely surprised that he thought you were dating Sadie and that James was your kid. But you also felt blindsided by his profession, even when it would have been pretty easy to figure it out if you just googled him.
“So, uh, I feel kind of stupid,” Anthony says, once the two of you sit down with your coffees.
“God, I feel the same,” you reply. “I can’t believe neither of us knew.”
“Well, at least we’re here now,” he says. “And, um, I was wondering if this would count as a date?”
“I’d like that a lot.”
Anthony smiles brightly and grabs your hand that isn’t holding onto your coffee, which just makes you smile in return.
“So, is there anything else that I should know about you that could have completely gone over my head?” he asks.
144 notes · View notes
kpopchangedme · 5 years
Text
The Wingman | Jae
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Jae’s late for pick-up at the daycare center and he worries his favourite teacher hates him now... That is, until his son accidentally saves the day.
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Protagonists: Park Jaehyung & You (ft. his 4 yo son)
Word Count: 2k
Genre: SFW - Romance - Single Dad - [Drabble 2k]
Prompt: “That’s... Not mine?”
Requested by: @noona-clock, I hope you love this :D
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DAY6 | M.list
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As soon as his car comes to a halt in the empty parking lot, Jaehyung jumps to run in direction of the rainbow entrance. The gray commercial building, probably dating back to the 60s, would be as boring as it gets if it weren’t from said colourful door. Without slowing down, he pushes in, not even bothering to put on the designed slippers after kicking off his shoes. 
“Bongbong?” He calls in the now empty place, breathless.
“Ahoy, Mr. Park,” you greet, emerging from the office and waving both of your hands his way.
You’re wearing an unusual accessory tonight; a black eyepatch over your right eye and he frowns in worry. Did you hurt yourself? Jae feels even worse now that he sees you’re here. You’re the new daycare teacher, and he finds you adorable. Of course, you’re the one who got stuck here with Jaebong because of him. As if reading his mind, you turn to look at the time on the digital clock above the playground. 7:15PM; it beams, taunting Jae. Ok, he’s never been this late for pick-up before, it’s bad. It’s a Friday night and he’s sure someone like you has better things to do than care for someone else’s son after-hours. You must hate him now.
He rubs his nape nervously. “Hum, it’s just Jae, actually.” It’s overly awkward being called by his last name since you’re around his age. 
“Ahoy, Mr. Just-Jae.” You repeat, smile widening, and he finds himself staring, at a loss of words. What’s with the ‘ahoys’ and the eyepatch? “Your son is around, here somewhere, but you’ll have to fight him first.” 
“I’m sorry to be so late,” confused, he takes a few steps inside the playroom, “I wasn’t supposed to be the o–” 
“ARGH!” A high-pitched scream interrupts his excuses at the same time as something stings his right thigh. “All aboard!” When he looks down, Jae finds his son with a plastic cutlass and a way too large black pirate hat on. He’s standing inside a toy box where he was most probably hiding, waiting to ambush his father.
Oh… That is what’s going on with your eyepatch. The young boy is frowning threateningly, brows furrowed in a grimace mimicking disgust. He’s wearing eyeliner, and large lines are drawn across his face from the same pencil. What is probably meant to be a beard is traced on his chin, and a very impressing mustache is stretching on both sides of Bongbong’s mouth, ending up in curls on his cheeks. Someone should give you a raise for your imaginative makeup skills.
“There he is!” You say, pointing although it’s not obvious already. “Beware!”
“Jesus,” Jae mutters, struggling not to laugh too at this most unexpected sigh. Ultimately he decides to play along: “But... That’s… Not mine?”
“W-Wait what?” He raises his head in time to witness doubt and panic twist your soft features.
“My 4 years old had a lot less facial hair this morning...” He explains, making you laugh in relief. Jae grins, proud of himself, you’re even prettier when you’re laughing at his jokes. “That isn’t my son,” he points to the fierce pirate at his feet.
“I’m sorry, it’s nothing a little soap won’t wash away. We might have taken it a bit too far playin–”
“PIRATES!” Jaebong yells, slashing his leg once more, and this time Jae kneels at the hit, acting wounded. “I am Cap’n Bong, and I give no quarter!” Bongbong squeals when his father counterattacks, caging him for a tickle war. Losing, the boy laughs until he’s practically panting, struggling to say something Jae doesn’t quite catch. When he’s released, he repeats himself awfully serious; “You’re not mommy...”
Instantly, Jae’s smile straightens, remembering the reason why he’s so late. He wasn’t the one supposed to pick his son up at the daycare in the first place. His ex was supposed to spend the long weekend with him, but she called at the last minute saying something came up at work. Jaehyung had to cancel his plans and drop everything. He could’ve called his own family to help, but he didn’t want to burden them… Or for his mother to rant about his ex in front of his son.
“Mommy couldn’t fly back from Japan for the weekend... It’ll be just you and me, little buddy.” Jae glances your way, apologetic for the both of you. “I’m so sorry, daddy came straight from practice as soon as he knew.”
“That’s okay,” the little boy says sternly, dropping his pirate act altogether. He walks away to get rid of his toys and Jae groans, burying his face in hands, disheartened.
He wishes Bongbong wouldn’t be so calm about all this. He’s so used to being let down by people in his life all the damn time, already familiar with rejection. He’s only a child, he should get angry and cry, instead he just takes everything calmly. Jaehyung must damage control every time she screws up. All of this is eventually going to blow up.
“Is your wife away on a business trip?” You innocently ask, voice neutral. Jae notices you’re holding your purse and keys, ready to go out… With the eyepatch. Maybe you really hurt yourself and it wasn’t all for your brief pirating stunt.
“Um, yes... But she’s n–”
“Mommy isn’t daddy’s wifeeee!” Bongbong comes back trotting, grimacing at the apparently unthinkable, “EWWww!”
Your brows shoot up in surprise and Jae makes a weird sound, halfway between a snort and a chuckle at his theatrical ways. He totally got that from his side. “Oh, I’m sorr–”
“It’s alright. We’ve been separated for a long time.” He interrupts to reassure you, eager to move on. “It’s just us; the dream team.” Grabbing his son’s tiny hand, Jae pulls him towards the exit and begins to help putting on his shoes. “Let’s go, little buddy. Your teacher seems to have plans and we’re really lat–”
“I can!” Bongbong whines, snatching away the pricey Nike Air Max his uncle Younghyun got him. Nowadays, he hates whenever someone tries to help, but his father keeps forgetting. “That’s not true. Teacher doesn’t even have a boyfriend!”
Jaehyung bites down his lip as he slips on his own shoes, avoiding looking straight your way. You clear your throat, embarrassed. If Bongbong could score a (partially) toothless 4 years old ‘girlfriend’ on his first day of daycare... Jae is sure a grown woman like you has no problem finding a date on Friday night. Probably with a good man who isn’t a mess, and who doesn’t have to adapt his schedule around his young kid all the damn time. 
“Girls don’t need boyfriends to have plans, Park Jaebong.” You fake-scold, ruffling the little boy’s hair, but he’s too concentrated on the Velcro tapes of his shoes to mind. Jae feels himself go all mushy at the sight. “But he’s right,” you add, clearly for the older Park, “I don’t have any...” As soon as you realise what you just said, your eyes round in dismay. “Plans, I m-mean, not a boyfriend! Euh, I’m not in a hurry… So, you can take your time, it’s really no trouble. As long as you come to pick him up, I’m fine.” Jae’s blood rushes to his brain as his heart begins to beat faster. You’re flustered, but he’s not sure why. Surely it has little to do with him. “But I don’t have one either… A boyfriend I mean…” His mouth opens in confusion at your clarification. “Nevermind, forget I said that.” You hurry to add, wincing before running a hand in your hair to mask your uneasiness. Jae breathes out, trying to make sense of the last 30 seconds. That was unnecessary right? You didn’t have to share that personal information with him.
“Do I get to have ice cream now?” Bongbong asks dryly, totally ignoring the general atmosphere between you two grown-ups. He stands back up to slide his hand into his father’s. Jae is thankful for the distraction, since he has no idea what to do with himself after what you said. The little boy turns to you to explain; “When mommy doesn’t make it, I get ice cream.” 
“Yes.” Jae replies softly, somewhat ashamed to be exposed for bribing his son with sweets. “Anything you want.”
“Double chocolate.” Bongbong says without hesitation when his father holds the door for everyone to get out. 
“Sure, double chocolate,” Jae agrees while you’re locking the daycare doors, “with chocolate sauce...”
“Yeaaaah!” His kid grins pleased with that small win. “Teacher, which flavour do you want?” Jae, who was starting to walk for his car, stops, suddenly frozen still. It seems his son misunderstood since you’re all leaving at the same time, “Buddy, I don’t think–”
“Daddy always eats cookie dough with chips in it…” Bongbong pulls his tongue out, unbothered. “No good!”
“Really?” You laugh and Jaehyung smiles despite himself, gazing at you a little too long. At least until he feels his face warm up, and he has to look elsewhere. You still haven’t moved to get to your own car. Should they walk you, or would that be too weird? “Strawberry ice cream is my favourite.” 
Bongbong’s whole face lights up and he offers you a thumbs up, approving. “Can teacher come with us, daddy? Pleaaaaase…” 
His son tugs at his hand, pleading, and Jae simply stares in awe. He didn’t expect this opportunity at all. “I, euh, I don’t know...” Jaebong’s got game. No wonder he’s the one with a girlfriend. “Do you want to join us for ice cream, Teacher y/n?” He risks, smiling dumbly when he says your actual name. Jae waits for your answer, heart racing as you toy with your keys. Shit, you’re hesitating. You’re probably weirded out by him even asking you that. Shit. Shit. He feels lightheaded, he’s about to make a joke to get out of it.
After an eternity, you choose to smile back, saying softly; “I never say no to ice cream, Mr Park.” Immediately, Bongbong cheers, starting to run for his father’s car without waiting for you two. 
Breathless, Jae hovers, dancing from one foot to the other; “It’s just Jae actually.”
“Jae.” You try, and a shiver runs down his spine. “I’m just y/n.”
“That’s settled then.” He tries to stop smiling by biting his lower lip, but he fails. “There’s only one more thing, y/n…”
“What?” You ask, obviously nervous as you both start walking to join Jaebong. 
“It’s not that I mind,” Jae inhales sharply, “But… Did you hurt your eye or–” You gasp in horror, realising something. “Oh my God!” Taking the pirate eyepatch off too fast, you get the elastic entangled in your hair. “That’s so embarrassing…” you groan, wincing. It must hurt when you pull at it, but in your panic, you don’t seem to mind at all. 
“It’s nothing,” Jae chuckles, choosing to ease you by making fun of himself, “imagine needing your 4-year-old to help you ask–”
“DADDYYYY!” Bongbong interrupts loudly, tugging at the car’s back door in repetition. “IT’S LOCKED!” He ruins the moment. “OPEEEN!”
Jae shuts his eyes, dispirited, and you burst out laughing, bringing a hand to cover your mouth. When you’re done, you roll your eyes at him and he shrugs, unlocking the doors with his remote. Perhaps Bongbong is still a bit too young to have reached his full potential as a wingman after all. One thing is sure though, thanks to him you’re getting ice cream together…
And it sounds like a much more promising Friday night than what Jae could’ve ever hoped for.
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DAY6 | M.list
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323 notes · View notes
halfgclden · 3 years
Text
Aphrodite’s Pride
Summary: Parker and Jack are weebs.
Date: November 2020
TW: Sap
"Who would you have in your cavalry?" Jack asked as he settled back onto his bed. He laid the open box of Chips Ahoy cookies between him and Parker and set a big mug of milk on his nightstand. "Like, if we did a cavalry battle here in New Athens," Jack specified.
Parker took a cookie and chewed it as he thought. “Um, if I’m on top, probably like, four people who are the same height, right?” He tried to think of people with cool powers, but the only person that came to mind was Blue, and he had enough sense not to bring her up. “Hm. I’d probably be better as one of the runners. I think I’d pick, like, Danny? For cool plant powers. And then... Casey? And I bet Rosie would be great at getting the bandanas since she’s so crafty. Maybe Brent just... in general?” He squinted and then exhaled a laugh. “That sounds like it’d be a terrible team.” He shook his head and took another bite of his cookie. “You?”
"Ugh, I didn't even consider height," Jack mumbled in response. "Okay, well, considering the height thing I guess I probably wouldn't pick Brent because he'd be hard to match. Maybe, like..." Jack tried to think of people that he knew that actually had some sort of combat prowess. "Ugh, I don't know. Mal, Kieran, and Lil' Jack, because we'd all agree to just give up and do something else," he confessed with a snort.
Parker grinned, pleased that he had considered something Jack hadn’t. Not that he had considered his choices fully, picking Brent himself. He laughed at Jack’s official choice. “Nevermind, I’d want to be the fifth on that team. We could like, ignore the whole game and get Chipotle.” He tilted his head from one side to the other to stretch out his neck. “So am I basically the quirkless here?”
"Chipotle," Jack chuckled in agreement. "Um, I mean... I guess Mal and Kieran would also be, right?" Jack hadn't thought about how in this team, he'd be the one with the most powerful quirk. Gross.
“Nah, Mal’s got her whole ‘I can tell who people like’ thing.” Parker said as he took another bite of his cookie. He held a hand in front of his mouth so he didn’t spit crumbs everywhere with the next sentence. “Not that that’s super great in this case. But I guess it would be, since we wouldn’t be participating anyway.” He shrugged one shoulder and rested a hand on Jack’s leg. “We all know Lil’ Jack would be who we’d be relying on anyway, right?”
Jack reflexively laced his arm around Parker's and wiggled in close. "Oh yeah. Lil' Jack's the evil mastermind." At the sound of his name, the one-eyed fur ball glanced up from where he was laid across the room. "Thank god that dogs can't hold public office because Lil' Jack would try to like, invade places. He'd be a tyrant."
Parker leaned into Jack as he wrapped around him, smirking as he looked over at Lil Jack. "I'd vote for him. Unless that's just him getting to me too."
“Hey,” Jack called out toward the dog. “We’re onto your schemes.” Lil’ Jack stood from his spot and trotted on over. He stood at the boys’ feet and looked up at them, his one eye wide. “What?” Jack asked as a little paw tapped at their shins. “Are you jealous? Do you need attention?”
Parker laughed at the interaction. "He's signaling for someone to take us out. We know too much."
Jack snorted. “Oh my god, and I live in a glass house too. We’re like sitting targets in here.” As he spoke, Lil’ Jack pulled himself up onto the couch and nestled into the space between Jack and Parker’s laps. “Now he’s trying to be cute to shift blame. Ugh. Genius level strats.”
Parker laughed. "If a red dot appears, we'll hit the ground." He smiled down at Lil' Jack and rested his head on Jack's shoulder. "Still want him on your cavalry team?"
"Oh yeah," Jack reassured Parker. "I'd rather have the monster on our side. Keep your enemies closer, right?" Jack rested his head on Parker's, a privilege he once thought he'd never be afforded. "Lil Jack's like our Tokoyami. He's got a dark shadow inside him too."
Parker nodded, making sure not to move too much as Jack rested against him. “Oh that does make sense.” He smirked down at the dog between them. “I’m glad he doesn’t have a bird head though. I like how cool everyone is with the bird head, but it’d be weird for your dog.”
"Oh my god, that would be so Greek though. Like, a little crow-headed, bichon-frise-bodied chimera," Jack speculated. "The Gods would probably live for that."
Parker exhaled hard in a laugh. “I was thinking like a gryphon. But a dog-gryphon.” He made a face. “Ugh, so chimera totally works better.” He tilted his head back and shook his head. “No, please don’t give them any ideas. They’ll do it because it makes me uncomfortable.” Parker raised his eyebrows at Jack. “Whose powers would you want to have, if you could?”
"From the show? Uh..." Jack immediately skipped over some of the weirder quirks in his head. There was no way he was going to object himself to the social burden of looking like a bird or frog. "Invisible Girl," Jack quipped with a snort. "Or like, Kaminari, so I could charge my phone without getting off the couch. And, like, I'm already stupid anyway so there wouldn't be any drawback. How about you?"
Parker laughed quietly at Jack's response. "Oh my god, true. I like Kaminari's, but I'd have to go with creation. That's just, like, the best power. Do you think she's rich because she can just, like, make money?"
"Nah, Momo wouldn't. She's trying to become a hero, that would be, like... Scandalous." Jack gasped and grabbed Parker's arm. "Think of the snacks though! Oh my god, I could charge our phones and you could make more snacks and we literally wouldn't have to get up for hours."
Parker laughed and brought his feet up, narrowly avoiding Lil’ Jack with them. “We’d be a power couple.” He ran a hand through Jack’s hair to push it back and smiled at him as he dropped it once more. “Do you think the food would taste different depending on what I ate?” He scrunched his nose as he considered it. “Ew, I actually don’t want to think about that. But yeah, I could never be a hero, I’d get the coolest power and just use it to eat more.”
"Okay, but then if one of us was Momo and the other one of us was Sato—" Jack paused. "Oh, uh, this is, like, small spoiler, but Sato's quirk is like, he eats sugar and becomes powerful. So like, we could team up and be like... A feederism crime fighting team. Ew." Jack cackled.
Parker had trouble picturing Sato, but nodded along as Jack explained. “Feederism,” he repeated after Jack, shaking his head. “I feel like that’s definitely something weird. Do they do that though? Like, team up so that he can eat more sugar?” He pressed his cheek into his shoulder. “Do they explain how his quirk works? Like, does he have to have straight cane sugar or can he have an apple or something?”
“Uh, they like, show him more later, but not a lot,” Jack confessed. “I don’t really remember what he does for fights, but I think he goes for just straight up sugar, like crack.”
“Hm,” Parker nodded as he made the sound. When he realized he didn’t have much more to contribute to the conversation, he stretched forward over Lil’ Jack so he could press his face into Jack’s chest, wrapping his arms around his middle.
Jack hummed contentedly. He wove his fingers through Parker's hair and thought back to when he was convinced he would never be able to touch somebody else again. "This is my favorite."
Parker made a content noise and moved so his chin was against Jack's chest now, looking up at him. "You're my favorite." He felt dumb once he said it and closed his eyes again, but didn't move away.
"Aw," Jack squealed. He looked down and planted a peck on Parker's forehead. "Love you." Jack paused. Had he ever said that before? He definitely thought it. Well, too late now. He gave a weird grumble and pressed his lips together.
Ah. If Parker’s face wasn’t red before, it certainly was now. In the relationships that he’d been in, he’d never said that first. Was it a security thing, to make sure that the other person really liked him before spilling his guts to them? Mostly it was just because he never really knew when the right time to say it was. Now would be a good time, after his boyfriend had just said it for the first time. Oh god how long had he been thinking about it now? Was it too long a pause for him to say anything? Was him thinking that he waited too long only stalling it longer and making it worse? Parker let out something that resembled a squeak and moved to push his face into Jack’s chest again, squeezing him tighter. “Love you too,” he mumbled, the words muffled against Jack’s shirt.
Was it actually taking Parker a long time to say something or were Jack's nerves just making it seem like forever? When Parker finally responded, Jack tried not to exhale too loudly in case Parker might hear him doing it. Jack gave his boyfriend a tight squeeze and shut his eyes contentedly. Not that Aphrodite would ever be paying attention to him, but Jack wondered in that moment if she would be proud of their lame little demonstration of love.
Parker wished that he was not a son of Aphrodite so that he could have some sort of excuse for how awkward the interaction had been. But for now, rather than think about how his friends were going to laugh at him if he gave any details and how his sister was going to scream at the news at all, he found himself perfectly content with their declarations. He laughed as he pulled away from Jack, climbing over the small dog between them so that he could sit in his boyfriend’s lap. He rested his hand against Jack’s cheek and smiled at him. “I’m really glad we decided to watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl. Like, way back.”
"Oh my god, yeah," Jack chuckled. "I can't believe that's what brought us together. And Ratatouille," he added with a snort. "And My Hero now, I guess. Our track record is, like, Kieran's nightmare."
Parker laughed again. “God, I guess. He’s sitting there watching things in black and white and I’m telling my boyfriend I love him while talking about a cartoon.” He rubbed his cheek against his shoulder. “At least it’s foreign entertainment?”
Jack snorted. "Yeah, our show's imported. That counts for something, right?"
"Imported! It's like a cheese." Parker laughed, then tapped his fingers against Jack's chest, unable to keep the grin from his face. "I love you."
"I love you too," Jack responded, with more conviction this time. "Like, a lot."
"That's good." Parker grinned, spreading his fingers wide. "It'd suck otherwise." He leaned forward and pressed his face into Jack's neck.
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mittensmorgul · 5 years
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1) Is Dabb a Black Mirror fan? Cause 14x20 reminded me of "USS Callister" (4x01). It's about a gifted software developer (a "god" of programming) who takes DNA samples from his co-workers in order to insert himself and them as characters in a videogame he's created. In the videogame world he mistreats his co-workers (e.g forces one of the girls to kiss him repeatedly) and they desperately want to free themselves from his control. (+)
(2) In the end the characters find a way to communicate with their real-world counterparts, who finally manage to lock the programmer’s character in a loop of emptiness within the simulation, which he can’t escape since the co-workers left the programmer alone and motionless IRL, implying that he’ll eventually starve and die. If Dabb was inspired by this, I assume that TFW will follow the same narrative aka killing God for “free will” to triumph.
*****
Hi hello there! Yes, I know this has been sitting in my inbox since April. I’m trying to get better and replying to the insane backlog and picking random messages to reply to (my inbox crept over 900 messages recently and my guilt will not let that stand :’D).
Confession: I have not seen Black Mirror, so I’m just going by what you said about this episode of it. I only have a kind of vague idea what that show is about from a few posts I’ve seen cross my dash, so I can’t really speak to the comparison directly. But I can speak to the implications of what you’re suggesting in terms of the SPN universe situation.
And in a sense, yeah this is kinda along the lines of how I suspect this will be eventually resolved. For the sake of argument, though… Chuck is effectively immortal in the narrative. You can’t trap him in his own game and wait for him to starve to death. Because he won’t.
But also, we’re not talking about a mental construct within reality holding TFW captive like the game situation you described in Black Mirror. TFW doesn’t have “real world” counterparts to the characters we know. They ARE effectively in the real world (to them… *we the audience* know this is fiction, so on that level J2M are their real-world counterparts, in a sense? But I don’t think the show will end with us breaking the in-story universe that badly. I think Dabb really does want us to end the series believing that TFW will continue on, their universe finally saved from Chuck’s eternal manipulation in their lives). 
The situation in Supernatural is a bit different, though. For all he would like to, I don’t think it’s ever been implied that Chuck actively can control the individual members of TFW directly, you know? He can’t “force” them do do things directly, like puppets. What he CAN engineer are circumstances that back them into narrative corners and force them to react. But their reactions are their own. It’s a subtle difference, but a very important one.
Like Ruby told Sam way back in 4.22, in a smaller-scale version of Chuck’s manipulation of the overarching narrative:
Ruby: No. It wasn’t the blood. It was you… and your choices. I just gave you the options, and you chose the right path every time. You didn’t need the feather to fly, you had it in you the whole time, Dumbo! I know it’s hard to see it now… but this is a miracle. So long coming. Everything Azazel did, and Lilith did. Just to get you here. And you were the only one who could do it.
Sure, Dean killed her for it, but Chuck is just… on a cosmological scale, “Chuck” is literally just a manifestation of Creation itself. He’s not a guy, you know? This is where I start to sound like a lunatic, sorry. :P
For all his apparent power, for all the fact he is effectively “God,” he’s just as much a construct as creation itself. He’s the manifestation of Creation attempting to interact with itself, and he’s actively made himself into this personification, created this personality for himself. But it’s not what he is. He’s a sock puppet, and the sock needs unraveling.
Without unraveling all of creation in the process, because they are– at the most basic level– one and the same.
It always brings me back to the s11 finale, where the apparent solution to save the universe was attempting to “kill” the Darkness. But… you can’t actually do that, you know? Not without killing the Light as well. That’s just not how anything works. We always joked that Dean couldn’t kill Death, but then he did… except nothing changed… people kept dying and Billie ascended to become Death. It’s not a “person” but a mantle of power and an embodiment of the universal constant that whatever lives must eventually die. Whatever comes into creation must eventually leave it again. Whatever begins must eventually come to an end. That’s the whole “Alpha and Omega” of the entirety of creation.
And in 11.23, Dean achieved that balance by reuniting Chuck with Amara, or the concept of creation with destruction, light with dark. And he did it with words.
The “Chuck construct” needs to let go of his creation and allow it to truly be free. It’s not that he needs to die, though he might choose to disconnect himself from his creation or dissolve the Chuck Construct in order to allow the universe to truly have free will. It might not tell the story Chuck most wants to see (egotistically his own origin story narrative, played out in every level of the story of Supernatural through his favorite characters and chosen avatars), but human consciousness wants a chance to tell its own stories now.
And Chuck, in story as the avatar for the original creator of Supernatural– i.e. Kripke– being finally disconnected from the universe by the in story avatar of the final showrunner, Dabb– i.e. Billie as Death– I find that’s kind of poetic, yes? Knowing Billie has been plotting something in the background for a very, very long time speaks VOLUMES about how Dabb has seen his own role in bringing the series to an end since he took over as showrunner. Remember, Billie was his character first introduced in 11.02, in what’s functionally the second half of a two-part episode begun by Carver in 11.01. When I say it’s spirals all the way down, I really mean that on every imaginable level. This metas outward into the actual structure of the showrunning and writing here in the real world, too. Dabb… is on another level, tbh. :P
(eta2: not even mentioning that by mid s11 Dabb had effectively taken the reins, and penned the season finale literally called Alpha and Omega in which all of this came to pass in the narrative for the first time around...)
On the side of this with the broken fourth wall, it means being able to hand the narrative over to the fandom, for us to play in that universe in our own imaginations, with a closed canon we can return to again and again to tell our own stories. Fanfic ahoy! With the full blessing of the creators. :’)
And on every level, this is the philosophy Dabb has been putting forth since he took over as showrunner, and I can’t imagine he’d veer from that path now.
ETA: Because I got sidetracked with the Big Cosmology Stuff and forgot the other point I was gonna add here >.>
We did get a smaller-scale scenario where this sort of situation you’re describing played out EXACTLY as you described during s14– in 14.15, with Chip Harrington who’d been directly messing with everyone via the sort of mind control you’re describing in Black mirror keeping people trapped in his “game scenario” of the town of Charming Acres. Sunny had been bound to him by a promise to her dead mother to make sure her father would never be alone. She indulged his game, watching him manipulate and murder people in the name of keeping himself happy, but in the end she freed herself and everyone else from his tyrannical, self-described “god” level control of the town by using that same psychic power she’d inherited from him to trap him in his own version of happiness inside his own mind, where he could be happy without hurting anyone else.
He’s effectively trapped inside his own mind now, unaware of outward reality. In that state, what will actually happen to him? Will he be put on life support machines like Donatello was after Cas stripped his mind away? Will he slowly wither away and die? Will his own psychic power trapped in that reality– which we have been given leave by the show’s own cosmology is the equivalent of his “heaven,” or his spiritual happy place and theoretically his own afterlife (barring the distinct possibility that he’s destined for hell because of his actions and choices during life?). We just don’t know, but his removal from the town didn’t have the sort of negative impact over anyone else that removing the creator from all of creation would…
Chip didn’t (like Chuck) create the town of Charming Acres. He just controlled the people who lived there. Chuck, on the other hand, doesn’t control anyone… he just creates the universe and manipulates it to push people into confronting the choices he wants them to have to grapple with. Again, it’s a subtle distinction, but in the end, I think it’s a very important one.
Okay, now I’m done. :’D
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beast-feast · 3 years
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Naming a Tepig "Chips" is arguably the best thing I've ever done
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o-kviii · 5 years
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The Blind Leading the Blind pt. 2 [Matt x Reader]
>>> Part 1 <<<>>>Part 3<<<
You wake up to the smell of antibacterial soap, a throbbing pain in your arm, and thick cloud surrounding your head. The last thing you remember... did I ever get that sandwich?
“You’re awake.” a chirpy voice rings out. Footsteps approach, and a soft hand pats your hand as she raises your bed to a better sitting position. You blink a few times. You didn’t even realize your eyes were open. “Don’t panic, now.” she says just as the soft tones of the heart rate machine begin to grow more ecstatic. “It’s going to take some time for the swelling in your head to go down, but once things calm down your sight will return. Give it time, (Y/N).”
“So it’s coming back?” your voice sounds dry and raspy. You wonder how long you’ve been here. How long you’ve been asleep or unconscious or whatever happened. Where the man that helped you is.
“Yes honey, the surgeon was confident in your recovery. He will be in here a little later to discuss the procedure and any questions you may have then.”
The nurse checks things around the room, or so you assume from her rustling. Her footsteps grow faded but then she stops.
“Oh right, you do have a guest if you are up to it. A man has been back the past two days asking if you are awake yet.”
“A man?”
 The one that brought you into the ER. He arrived here about an hour ago and has been waiting. Would you like for me to send him in?” 
The entire ordeal, your attack, the stranger, all of it fills your brain. Anxiety presses on your chest, but you agree and give her the go. This man really has stuck by. For a stranger of all people. It doesn’t make sense. You don’t deserve his kindness.
“Hi.” That voice greets you, smooth and surprisingly timid. You can clearly remember his confidence a few days ago.
“Thank you.” You blurt out, and immediately regret. He laughs softly. 
“Please, don’t thank me...You know,” his words trail off and there is some distinct tapping as he sounds to be getting closer and closer. “I do believe we haven’t officially made acquaintance.”
“(Y/N).” you smile, hoping that you are looking in his general direction with some sort of accuracy.
“Matthew.”
“It’s nice to put a name to the voice... I may have died out there or lost my vision permanently if you didn’t come along.”
“So you will get it back?” 
“So they tell me. Not sure when yet, though.”
“You will get it back though, which is what’s important.” 
“Yeah.” 
Silence fills the room. You wonder why he’s here. What he wants. Maybe this wasn’t a debt free exchange. Maybe he’s poor, homeless. Wants payment for his deed. Not that you have much to give...
“I uh, do you have family? The nurse said there is no one on file.”
Your heart sinks. 
“It’s for the best they don’t know.”
“What do you mean?” 
“My family is, uh, complicated. We used to live here in Hell’s Kitchen once upon a time. I grew up here. But then I came home to a moving truck and a suitcase packed for me to go off to boarding school without an explanation. I guess that’s why I’m back now.” 
Matthew is quiet, almost seems to be holding his breath. The fact that there is only darkness is really starting to dawn on you. Usually in pitch blackness your eyes adjust and soon the outlines of the geography of the area begins to show itself in faint shadows and tones that are a little darker than the rest. It’s not much, but it’s something. Something you didn’t think you’d miss until you can’t even wave your hand in front of your eyes and sense movement or make out the curves of the end of the bed your toes are propped up against. What you can hear are the steady blips of the heart rate monitor quickening and what seems like someone speaking in the hallway. So faint you can tell it’s words but have no idea what is being said. 
Warmth encompasses your hand and the voice seems louder now, more defined. 
“Breathe.” It says, and the feeling of circles being rubbed on your wrist are consuming your senses now. “It’s overwhelming, I know, but you must calm down if you want it to get better.” 
“I want to see again.”
“You can see. Focus your ears. Listen to the sound of my breathing and match it.” 
Labored breaths get caught in your chest but you focus on trying to calm down out of this horrid panic attack and find Matthew’s breathing. As if you’re tuning a radio the flushing of his exhale and the deep swoosh of his hearty inhale fill your ears. In. and out. In. and out. 
“Good. Now I want you to take a deep breathe in. Tell me what you smell.” 
“What... what I smell?”
“Just try.” 
On your next big inhale you pull in the air. Matthew is standing so close you can almost taste the faint twinge of cologne. Or maybe that’s deodorant. Yes, your ex in high school used to wear that deodorant until he decided to stop using hygiene products all together... Soy sauce. All that sushi you’ve consumed in your twenties is a dead giveaway to that smell. I could really go for a tempura roll right now... 
“Chinese food?” You say softly, and you hear him let out an affirmative chirp. “And do you by chance wear Degree deodorant.” 
“Thai and you are impressively correct on the second one.” 
“How you do know about this? That’s the quickest I’ve ever come out of a panic attack that bad.” 
“Let’s just say I’ve been in a similar position before.” 
“Who are you?”
He exhales roughly, releasing your hand. You worry you’ve upset him, though he was the one asking about your family a few minutes prior.
“There’s many answers to that question.”
“What’s an answer you’re willing to give then? All I know is you must be the Good Samaritan of the year and have nice biceps.” 
“Oh really?” he chuckles. You feel your cheeks grow warm and hope he can’t tell you’re blushing. It’s not often you speak so easily to men, offering flirty comments as he sits on the edge of your bed. Granted, it is a hospital bed and you could be staring at his crotch right now and you wouldn’t know but at least you are feeling fairly confident. 
“But anyways... just give me something about you. So I can paint a better picture in my head.”
“A lawyer.” he says almost immediately. “I run my own law firm with my best friend. My college roommate, Foggy and our office assistant Karen.” 
“A lawyer? What a big shot.” 
“Well, uh, we try our best. We just want to help people. Someone’s gotta stand up for those who don’t have as big a voice.” 
“Noble. Also explains why you’ve come back, you’re hoping I’ll sue or something right?” 
You can hear Matthew shift from foot to foot and pass an object in his hand to his other palm. 
“If you want a lawyer then I would certainly represent you, but that’s not the reason I came back.” 
“Then why?” 
“It’s kind of a long story.” 
You consider dropping it. You don’t want to scare him away, make him think you’re trying to intrude into his life. Yet, there is something he’s holding back. Something he wants to say, but isn’t. You can feel it. 
“Well I am literally all ears if you care to stick around and tell it.” 
*
 Already making blind jokes only a few hours in. Matt didn’t dare get into those for a few weeks at least. Apart from her inevitable panic attack, she’s taking this all remarkably well. Maybe it’s the short term nature of her blindness. She doesn’t have to live with this forever.
If she did though, her senses are sharp. She had it down to the brand on his deodorant. He expected her to pick up on the soy sauce as he accidentally spilled some on his pants during lunch, but the deodorant was a pleasant surprise. 
Matt must now decide whether or not he is going to go into this story with her. He’s told it a million times by now. People are so curious to know of how a disability came about. There were a few times he didn’t feel like going into the car crash and hazardous materials spill story and just claimed he has been like this since birth. It never ceased to amaze him that people were actually disappointed when he would tell them it was congenial. As if he were depriving them of some tale of a tragic accident they can share with their book club friends over black tea and Chips Ahoy cookies. 
Somehow this is different. She isn’t asking about his eyes because, well, she has no idea he sees the same world she does. She’s asking about him. Who Matthew Murdock is. It’s strangely unnerving to separate him from his blindness. 
“I grew up here, in Hell’s Kitchen. My father raised me alone, supporting us on his boxing career up until his death. After he died, I was sent to the orphanage at the church. I had just gone blind at the time--”
“Wait, you’re blind?”
“Yeah, uh, I did say I could relate.” 
“Wow. What are the odds. Sorry, continue.” she says, and Matt is taken aback by how swiftly that was glossed over. Like it’s a story for later, not the main chronicle. He collects himself and continues. 
“I was full of anger in those days. My father left me, my sight was gone. It felt like the world was crumbling around me. I learned a lot though, about myself. About what I truly believe in. What I was meant to be. This nun, Sister Maggie, used to sit by my bed when I would have a nightmare as a kid. She would hold my hand and tell me that God has a plan for me and that all that has happened would make sense one day. As I got older, went to college, got my law degree, that started to make more sense. I opened a firm with my best friend and we began doing what we always talked about-- helping people. So I suppose that’s why I’m here. I was once lying on the street in a dark world. My father was there to hold me, though. Knowing what it’s like to have your vision stolen from you, there is not a part of me that could stand letting you wake up with no one to hold your hand.”
“Or insist I smell the lunch you spilt.” she chuckles. Matt feels her hand slide into his. He curls his fingers over hers, his thumb forming a mind of its own and tracing gentle circles along the back of her hand. He didn’t notice it earlier, but her hand is swollen with tears across her knuckles. Defensive wounds. His chest aches as he ever so gently feels the extend of her injuries. The gashes on her fingers. Hairline fractures in her thumb and wrist. He’s surprised she’s not pulling away, even with the slight pressure he’s applying. 
A thought occurs to him, and he presses a little harder. He can feel them now, the calluses and scar tissue. Parts of the bone that healed stronger than before. 
“Do you know why you were attacked?” Matt asks softly, honing in on the sound of her heartbeat. It quickens slightly, but then slows again. 
“I don’t know for sure, but I suspect they want me to get to my father.” her heart is even, unwavering. She’s telling the truth. 
“Who is your father?” 
*
“[Y/N], it’s time to go.” your father is standing at the door, his keys in hand. It is a strangely domestic scene for your home, as your father is usually not the one home to take you places, let alone be dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. It’s his day off, though, so he told you. He paid for your mother to have a weekend at the spa. You were snooping when you overheard him insisting she take some time to relax. He told her he felt bad for being away from you for so long and wanted to spend some time bonding. She seemed reluctant at the time, but the ease in her walk as she kissed your forehead and got in the car made you think she changed her mind on that stance. You sling your gym bag over your shoulder and exit the house as he shuts the door behind you. 
You’re sitting in the front seat, watching the massive houses pass at the front of the gated community you live in. Your house is smaller, not as extravagant as these, but you’re thankful for that. You like not being like your friends with their butlers and nannies. You feel like you are lucky to have a mother that takes such good care of you and a father that works hard but still makes efforts such as these every so often. It could be worse. 
Sometimes you think about your old home in Hell’s Kitchen. You miss the city noises and the constant activity right outside your door. 
“Your mother lets you sit in the front now?” your father asks, glancing at you as you pause at a stop sign. 
“I’m almost fourteen, I’ve been sitting in the front since I was eleven.”
“Hm.” 
The car turns left, which throws you off. 
“The dance studio is a right.” you correct him, but he doesn’t seem in a hurry to make a U-turn.
“I called your dance studio. Told them you were sick. We have a different activity for the afternoon.” 
“What are we doing?” 
He sighs. You can see his mind working, trying to figure out what to say. You wonder if you should be worried. Maybe you should text mom...
“[Y/N], what is my job?” 
“Uh, you run a bank don’t you? Something with finances?” 
“Very good. I run a private bank. Recently, I have gotten a lot of new clients. A lot of powerful clients.” 
“Well, that’s good.”
“As a businessman, yes it is good. But as a father, I have some worries. I want you to be safe.” 
“Why wouldn’t I be safe?” You begin to feel a bit more uneasy. This feels like a scene from a TV show or a book. It doesn’t seem like a conversation you expected to be having with you boring banker father. 
“I don’t want to scare you.”
“I’m not scared, I just want to know. I’m fourteen, I’m not a little kid that doesn’t hear when you and mom are arguing down the hall.”
He looks over at you, and sighs, a glimmer of admiration(?) in his eye. The car comes to a stop and you look up to see that you’re parked in front of a martial arts studio. 
“You’re a firecracker sometimes. Use that, [Y/N].” 
*
She tells Matt about her father, his business and how she took a years of self defense classes because he was worried. He never truly revealed what he was worried for and she began to forget about her teenage worries as she grew older and nothing ever threatened her. 
He listens, realizations dawning on him with each new piece of the puzzle she provides. Karen was telling him about a bank that was pocketed by Fisk. She said it was the hub for white collar criminals to filter their money through. It was happening on a small scale, just the inner office with a corrupt director until the CFO found out and shut down the operation. He reported the criminal activity and pissed a lot of organizations, mobs, crime lords off. The bank’s reputation was trashed in the papers and the CFO went off the grid soon after. Fisk must have chosen it to be one of his banks of choice because of the desperate need for clientele. 
Suddenly, Matt’s ears perk up. There’s noises floors down, muffled yelling and pounding footsteps. The sound of a gun crashing into the side of a skull reaches his ears, and he jumps up. 
“[Y/N], we need to leave immediately.”
“What? I--” He grabs her hands, pulling her out of the bed and gently removing the IV from her arm. She winces and uses him to support her weight as she gains her footing from laying for days. 
“They’re coming. We need to get you somewhere safe.” 
>>>Part 3<<<
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incarnateirony · 5 years
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That sounds like a really cool RP! If you could ever one day make a post detailing the plot, I would really like to read it! It seems like you had some really cool storylines, some of wich I would actually like to see on the show. But until you decide to make a post detailing it (if you ever decide to, that is), can you at least explain to me just how the Winged!Dean (not Angel!Dean) worked? Did he kept the wings? Thanks in advance!
Did Dean keeps his wings in your RP? Did he stay human? Did he get any other kind of power? Did he fly? Did use he them to teleport? Did he had any bowel problems like he did when Cas teleported him in the show?  2/2
Oh nonnie, this is a pretty long answer, but I’ll pitch it behind a cut.
First of all this considers some context.
It was a storyline we started running late S11 to early S12, right around when we knew hiatus was coming up. We decided to poke the idea of the Empty and put a story around it essentially having a break in it that was unleashing all sorts of chaos starting in the lower levels of the underworld (as if reality was set like a stack of pancakes and purgatory and hell were getting the first bullshit before it reached earth) - it was more of a conceptual threat at that point. In canon, Billie had evoked the idea of the Empty and we just went with basic mythology to extend on ideas of it, like primordial khaos and tohu v’vohu.
We are lucky, really, when we pulled our plot off over the lapse of because if this had gone down after Billie was killed we would have had a major non-canon-compliant plot hole once she reset to Death in the show and Saw The Whole Picture, but-
Let’s actually try to tell this artistically rather than linearly, because the story function itself was not linear. It started Mar 14 2016 for that given episode and we took a few days playing on it with that launching point.
And so, a retelling I’ll try to keep from writing like full fanfic. SHORTHAND RETELLING AHOY.
We all know the place – some two-pump gas station in the middle of nowhere surrounded by nothing but dull plains somewhere in midwestern America. Dean Winchester fills his gas tank at the car with dull noise from the Impala’s radio, waiting for Sam.
Wait, no, Sam wasn’t there. Right. He had decided to do a … thing. An important thing. Whatever. Dean could handle the case alone. Whatever. Cas was probably off doing angel things. He didn’t exactly keep a tracking chip on the angel. He was a strong independent celestial that didn’t need no man and was about as good as trying to herd an entire pack of cats when he got something in his head.
Inside – well – dude, you don’t even have pocket pies? What kind of bumfuck trash heap– and Abraham The Gas Station Clerk was about as friendly as anything else around. It wasn’t about to get any more thrilling ‘round there.
Dean was out alone on the mission. It was superfluous to consider renting out a hotel. The Impala served as a home well enough, even if it was strangely empty of company. It left him reflecting back at a memory – it couldn’t have been more than a few days ago, where Dean had learned a trick to prank-gift Castiel, ending with them sitting out under the stars on the impala after Sam had shaken his head, chuffed in quiet laughter, and moved on. Some chick that had all but married an angel had found a cantrip that let her bind angelic sigils to food and drink in a way they could actually appreciate it almost like a human, as if to live it by their hand – rather than just conceptually enjoy it. The result was one surprise!drunk Castiel that still managed to hold fairly insightful conversations with Dean.
The blessings of humanity, the want to stay with them through it all; and yet here Dean was, sleeping in the backseat of an Impala alone. No Cas. No Sam.
The radio squealed over its dull music and Dean sat up to completely twist off the keys in the ignition, since sleep wouldn’t happen to that noise. But maybe it was time to get back to his hunt.
Dean was pretty sure it had been about sixteen eternities since he found good food. Whatever day of the week or whatever had been met by wild resistance. Sam and Cas had been stupidly amused over pi day T-shirts on a day that DEAN COULDN’T EVEN FIND ANY PIE. That shit haunted him when he SLEPT. What the FUCK dudes. Honestly ever since the morning after of Castiel having his first angelic experience of a hangover – a conversation full of awkward that he felt like he had gone over about 1500 times in his head – he’d just been treading water. On case progress. On objectives. On getting a damn good beer. Just endless road which, in the past, might have felt liberating. Now it was some level of hell where he had a low animation budget in the background looping the same ten frames of grain on repeat and the occasional cow. Then again, that’s the midwest for you.
Crossing a bridge at night, Dean knew he was close to his objective. He just didn’t expect to find a young kid standing at the side of it with the classic “I’m going to jump” pose going on. At first he was convinced he was seeing a ghost but, once he pulled over and managed to talk the kid from the edge, he had been greeted by babbling of monsters in the dark and just wanting to go home. Kid got lost swimming but didn’t know how to get back and, looking about six, apparently had reached a point of crazy-desperation to consider just jumping back in.
But the kid – Isaac was his name – enforced they weren’t alone. That’s fine, that’s what Dean’s there for. He takes care of the bad guys. What he didn’t expect was, pulling the kid back to the car, seeing some lovecraftian abomination of dozens of eyes and strange wings and multiple heads cracking open in the horizon behind them. And it came out swinging.
In short summary, despite Dean’s valiant efforts, the kid fell into the water after slipping from his hand and, even trying to dive in after him (and to avoid the “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT”), he couldn’t find anything in the water or the dark, but managed to slip by, get back to the car and BOOK IT. Not before his radio cranked up over 9000 and screeched so loud a few of the windows broke out, babbling in bullshit he could only recall similar to angel radio in its unintelligibility, but the thing behind slowed and fell back.
Dean being Dean didn’t really let that… sit well with him. He cursed himself, he cursed the THING – whatever the fuck that was – and tried to even consider how to handle it. He tried calling Sam. No signal. Of course. Without Sam’s magic wifi hair in the middle of fuckall nowhere, Dean would have to figure this one out alone. So around when he threw a mini tantrum and tossed his phone to the side he realized there was some dude standing in front of his car. You know, about 0.5 seconds before he hit the grill. Break slam. THUMPTHUMP. Screech.
Dean gets out and finds… it’s this old black guy in like 1920s attire and… he apparently fell under the car just-right to not become road kill. Dude complements on the state of the dream ride like, lmao dude what happened. Name’s Jacob Turner. Considering you ran me down, can I take a ride? Where you going – anywhere away from this hot mess.
And they talked. They talked a lot. And Jacob got more and more… left field about what he was talking about. Abstract. Even for their situation. You been having a lot of repeat dreams on this road alone, haven’t you; you run into some strange folks, don’t you; Me? Yeah, I’m dead. Got drowned after making some sideways devil deals. Chill out, I’m not going to hurt you, no point.  Cuz… you’re dead too. You notice the planes are pretty bare? And how long since the sun come up?
Right.
That’s right.
Lucifer had been there. He could remember the face.
It was all blurry. Lucifer, about to look for a new vessel, had taken to hiding in some sort of distortion. Dean hadn’t understood the specifics, but it was similar to something the archangel had taught Gabriel before that they lived in the Mystery Spot. Or more, Sam lived and he got retellings. He didn’t exactly get the longhand explanation before, about 100 challenges of living his day ‘right’ later – which summarily boiled down to ‘stay out of my business and mind your own’ – Dean had rebelliously tried to slam down the archangel in what he could only call a timeless space they all lingered in.
The archangel had drawn out his blade and… quite simply run the man through. Less simply was the time spiral of evoking all of his old deaths in loop. They managed to banish Lucifer from the room, but by that point, the memory echo of the hellhound that had first dragged Dean to hell had gotten ahold of him, and how does one fight off a death that already happened?
Sam and Cas were there. He remembered that panic. Castiel tried to restore him but it was only prolonging the mauling that was already set in stone from times past. And with much grief and tears, and much yelling about DOING SOMETHING from Sam, they finally agreed to have to let him go. That alone was its own highly emotional RP experience that would require a full telling, to be honest – to really strike home what happened. 
Frankly it was the first time Castiel had to watch Dean die in front of him, too. This wasn’t just metatron telling him. So enjoy first round of angelic rage-grief. They actually had to hold him back from going berserker on a reaper only he could see because it was just making it all worse. Sam was just about catatonic.
Dean’s horrified realization was interrupted by another radio squeal. He heard his name. He heard a voice he knew. He heard Castiel.
Jacob started yelling at the damn radio to mind his own business and let the dead be dead, how the hell you even getting through here– there’s no coming back. Hell, Dean pretty much implored the same. Sam and Cas needed to leave well enough alone. If he wasn’t just imagining that to begin with.
How WAS he still… doing things? Oh, Jacob all too helpfully clarified. You kind of dream. The world started as its own dream anyway. Before gods and demons, there was just a big fat nothing until something had the audacity to start dreaming, I guess. Mostly angels and stuff like that went there – that’s what that big fucking monster in the distance was. Generally they been there long enough they don’t even dream anymore. But Dean had been dreaming so damn loudly it woke up a few other sleepers in his vicinity.
THAT was an angel? Well, yeah, they’re actually kind of terrifying looking when they’re not behind a pretty face.
So what now – I just… dream everything and make some weirdo world? Well, you can be stubborn like God and try to make your own but that generally don’t work out right and you’ll never really remake what you know, it won’t really be them. Or you can do what most of us do, get tired and take a deep sleep.
To hell with that. With ANY of that. 
Sam and Castiel had been turning over the books day in and day out for days. There was really nothing about it that had any merit. Sam buried himself in the library and Castiel buried himself in feelings of remorse over his inability to help. And frankly – the angel had prayed to the man. And a few days back, he swore he felt a spark. It was enough for him to not give up, to start planning, to have Sam and the others pull grace from him to keep in vials in case his ideas went wrong. To call Crowley. To do many things. And the second time he pled into the nothing again, that old profound bond of theirs that connected grace and soul had made a line, but he was met with confusion and hostility.
But Dean… well, still existed.
And Dean, fresh with that last call, woke up in Nothing, only to be met by – which we yelled and armflailed about a year later – a big black nothing blob taking his shape and pretty much counterpointing him into the need for sleep. Stop disturbing the issues there. But this thing– this thing was a bit different from how it later turned up in the show – and frankly, was getting under his skin to see if he COULD find some way out. It was trapped past the Tzimtzum, even if with all the cosmic law breaking that had worn thin recently.
Crowley was called. Sam very, very tentatively but carefully made a contract of his own to convince Crowley to agree to. It was more of a coin flip situation. Everyone involved in this – including supporting hunters and shamans they had called together – would actually surrender not just their souls but their hunting wares if this didn’t work. A winning gamble, premised only on Crowley’s utter assistance in the process. Try to backtrack and it would be considered moot. Run interference and it was moot. But instead, taking what was left of the shards of Cas’ human soul beneath weakened grace, while they held a vial of it for emergency, again, if shit went sideways, and pretty much serving as an anchor in hell to break through the weakened veil at its point and reach into the empty.
The long and short of it was that they Profound Bond contacted each other and Dean got tractored out once telling Dean to let him in amidst the nothing-dream, but in locking on that way, Cas’ tether to his own grace got traded off to Dean who woke up angel-mode while Cas struggled with a heavily overtaxed once-vessel-now-body and essentially… got healed.
Crowley would never admit it, but for a moment when he thought they failed at first, he was disappointed or even sad – and again, though he would never say it, relieved and accomplished once everyone walked away from this. Given, angel!Dean was a little more than he could handle. Toodles.
THE I AGGRESSIVELY PROTECT YOU SAGA
Anyway, it wasn’t the first time Cas had parted with his grace and he was far more experienced in just about everything this go around. And frankly, they didn’t know how to undo it early on. So here we go.
There was a lot of plucky fun in it, like Dean realizing how easy it was to become a weirdo creeper. Like - with him, wings were fresh and unbroken and he learned he could just LE POOF around and it was AWESOME. Until he realized he had to have beer bound like everybody else did. And food. Hell, he just realized “it’s been two weeks since I had the urge to jack off, what the hell.” “…Dude. No.”
But he’d try to tether onto someone to poof in and poofed into the strangest situations we had fun with. Like the opportunity for Cas to stop in the bathroom and turn around morning-cleanup, “Dean… …personal space.” Right.
Or Sam rolling awake and seeing Dean staring at him DUDE. “Sorry, I can’t sleep.”
Dean asking how to summon the angel blade from the armpit dimension. Etc.
But considering the last go-round with Cas being human and kicked out of the bunker, when they started addressing their other surrounding plot-issues, Dean was like HAHAHA NOPE NOPE NOPE you STAY and everyone was like dude, Dean, chill. TLDR Cas legit angel warded himself and took off with another hunter to handle an adjacent issue that he didn’t want Sam & Dean to sully their hands and conscience with.
This also requires some context. When I started running this game I inherited players from a previously established RP that was… a little less canon compliant? Like a girl from around the Amelia saga had essentially replaced Amelia but she was a nephilim and had a kid with Sam? Our Sam player wasn’t thrilled about it when she ported in but we tried to be inclusive and make it work. Problem is that girl was a walking bag of trouble that wanted to be the perfect mother but the perfect man of letters but a nephilim but flirting with Lucifer and then couldn’t understand why the other characters were eternally pissed at her, because unlike her previous game, nobody was woobifying TFW and everybody was like THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU.
Either way, that whole Lucifer looking for a vessel had been trying to groom the little girl, lineaged from Sam and nephilim blooded, until she could be his. He was uncle Lucy! (gag me with a spoon) but yeah. Sam at least was trying to negotiate with the mother and ‘make amends’ – not really rekindle as much as be aware his kid was in HUGE FUCKING DANGER. But Cas had also seen something dangerous in Sam’s eyes that he knew Sam would regret. If that woman didn’t let them start taking care of that child, Sam could very well snap and kill this chick at this point for the sake of bringing the child to safety.
Either way, the girl had become SUCH a walking bag of trouble all around to them including running off with the kidlet that Castiel legit decided, time to kill this nephilim and VANISHED from Dean’s radar, went blackout mode, turned off devices. 
Went on some crazy journey with a shaman that taught him about native american lore, gave him an eagle fetish totem and explained the meaning of the messenger from the sky… went through Colorado. Cas realized eating an entire bag of candy bought in Colorado was a bad idea. Cas got stoned as fuck and shenanigans happened. He turned on his phone and sent a picture of a P-Bee-J the shaman had made him to Dean who was at this point LOSING HIS SHIT. Like… a hot dog bun with jelly stripes and PB filling and pretzel antenna. Best thing.
Either way, everybody caught up to where they were converging. Sam was out with dumbmama in Yellowstone, Cas and the shaman had caught up but not reconvened with the group. Dean angel-pinged into the Impala. Sam and Dean had a dustup over Dean acting like a lunatic about Cas being out with the shaman. Like, are you jealous for her? NO. …Soooo is it Cas? NO. I’ma call them. *ensue brother wrestling match in the car over the phone before life changing advent*
Either way, they weren’t the only ones hunting the nephilim. An old angelic badass that haunted the game dropped in and everything went sideways. Everybody kind of doorkicked in at the same time on the scene by pathway overlap, Dean and Cas had a kerfluffle they had to focus past, Sam and Cas got put on getting the kid safely to the angel warded car, the mom went down, Cas doubled back to find Dean getting ironically angel bulleted (again I lost it when angel killing bullets became a thing) and used the grace vial in protection long enough to get them out.
Cue reconciliation talk once everybody’s safe at the bunker. Keep in mind at this point the story has run into very-early S12 (started just before 11x14 but we don’t hiatus), so the irony in some of this modernly is hilarious.
Dean tells Cas he can’t go dark on them like that, he was worried, that wasn’t okay. Castiel apologizes, says he didn’t mean to worry them – you get where this is going, right? Only I’ll admit we didn’t prophecize a mixtape, Cas gave Dean a raven totem he found on his journeys with the shaman for him. They reconciled briefly. 
Powers aside they essentially came to understand Dean didn’t want the life, wings and burden given to him and started resolving how to fix it.
In the TLDR, yes, they essentially grace swapped back. The totems came up later. I mean past the whole “I gave him a fetish” joke that ran endlessly. “DUDE. STOP SAYING FETISH.” - Sam; but yeah, the eagle totem came back up at a later saga during what we called Casmodeus with the same shaman helping step in with Dean to get Cas back to his senses, which also showed later in that video. 
It all wrapped up in a related mytharc of Lucifer, his servant Judas the surviving late-created Knight of Hell Cain hadn’t known about, and all kinds of other stuff, including the death of the child during the Judas/Casmodeus saga – which again, also features briefly in that video. The entity from the empty would haunt them for a while afterwards too, but that took a while to really resurface and would have been in the next video if I had the chutzpah to try to sequence it. Abraham-Isaac-Jacob were just names Japeth took on as a conscious voice for The Empty, taking on the ancient titan concept of Iapetus and sealed in their proverbial Tartarus after the flood drowned out rebel angels and nephilim into The Empty, touched on a whole bit of lore about the Curse of Ham and needing all kinds of crazy components and special soils from ancient lands and so on.
TLDR perfect mama-hunter-MOL-nephilim-lucibanger got super mad at me lmaoooo
Either way.
Hope that… very long answer fills your curiosity?
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Lena Luthor x reader (For as many miles and hours apart, I’m with you)
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Request: "You look super cute right now , and it's really hard not to kiss you " with lena
a/n: well well well... guess who’s back again from gallivanting around a very small corner of the world... yes, that’d be me! I’ve taken the time I needed to recover from the jet lag... tbh I am still very affected lol. I think I’m done for this year, no more trips for now unless the universe decides to surprise me! Time to get this blog back in running order LMAO. I have a masterlist now for all you wonderfully organized people as well since it’s been asked for. Moreover, it’s kinda made me realize how very little I’ve written... I definitely want to expand my collection! Thank you all for sticking around though! Whether you’ve read one thing or a handful of things, I appreciate you all so very much :D
Now... guess who seems to be moderately inspired by their adventures that directly influenced the direction of this fic! Yeah, LOL. This one’s pretty fluffy... just pure fluff actually who am I kidding. A very cute fic for a very cute prompt?? Why the heck not! And because I always need to have at least one cracky headcanon in all the things I write, for whatever reason, I just want to say Lena would be the absolute worst with dogs, because she would be the biggest Sucker of all time, and she has the dumbest nerdy baby voice she uses for them, I don’t make the rules y’all
- - - - -
You’d say you did quite alright thank you very much, if anyone were to ask what it was like dating someone as big of a deal as Lena Luthor. It’s no surprise that having a big-time CEO for a girlfriend would have its perks as well as its challenges, but like any other relationship, you figured all that was needed was to just take things in stride.
Much to your delightful discovery, in fact, Lena had a harder time letting go of you than you did of her. She travelled less often for work than you anticipated she would. She’d told you once she tried not to travel too much if she could avoid it - you found it rather peculiar that someone wouldn’t want to indulge such an opportunity as she could.
You realized then Lena had a fear of flying, and moreover after having an incident with a helicopter and her brother (you’d only discussed this once), she was even more disinclined to be anywhere that wasn’t on solid ground.
She travelled on her private jet if she absolutely had to, and though you weren’t too shocked by this, she was just as quick to admit her fear of flying commercially with so many other innocent people on board and how she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if anything were to happen to them on her account - that made you all the more reluctant to let her go.
Still, she’d left your apartment with her head held high and a steely resolution. And still, it wasn’t even ten minutes before she’d messaged you and sent you one inconsequential heart emoji and a smiley face, just because she wanted to.
Lena wouldn’t be gone for too long, and you’ve become used to not missing her too much like you first did, but you knew you’d miss her now for not being able to kiss her when she did stupidly adorable things like that.
You supposed it could wait for when she came back - absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all.
It would only be a few days, she surmised, no longer than a week. She would be staying in Rome, and though you knew she was hasty to come back to National City, you reminded her of the benefits of a vacation.
Petulantly (with a pout, actually), she remarked that she doesn’t take advantage of her time away on business - and what exactly is the point of travelling for leisure if the only person you’d have fun with isn’t there anyway?
Needless to say, you kissed her then.
Your life had gone on as usual. For the most part, it seemed like any other week regardless - you saw less of Lena these days anyway.
Truthfully, the reality of Lena actually being out of the country only hit you with her “I wish you were here” messages, and only then did you realize you couldn’t really actually do anything about your absence - that didn’t stop you from replying “I’ll be over soon” regardless.
Lena: “You shouldn’t keep a girl waiting, you know. You’ve told me the same exact thing two days ago.”
you: “I’m only collecting all your favourite foods together. It’s taken me exactly one business day just to reconcile the fact that you prefer gluten free cookies over chewy Chips Ahoy”
Lena: “You’re so rude, I merely grew up with those. It’s a force of habit.”
you: “I cried outside of the natural food market parking lot for five minutes before walking in”
Lena: “You are so brave and selfless, my hero.”
you: “thanks, I know. It’ll take another business day to process the kale and spinach though”
Lena: “Oh? Well, that’s too bad, I’ll be gone by the time you get here. I have someone very important I have to kiss when I get back. Better luck next time? :)”
you: “wow, lucky asshole I bet ;) what am I gonna do with all this junk then?”
Lena: “Junk? I think you’ve got your definitions confused, darling. But you will figure it out <3″
Your banter with Lena was arguably one of your favourite things about her, and it didn’t hurt that it helped you forget how much you could miss her if you really let yourself think about it.
From the very start, she was a bit of a goofball, and you had to wonder where it was people got off on glamourizing and over-exaggerating just how evil a Luthor could really be.
In fact, she has arguably the biggest heart of anyone you’ve met. And the fact that you could make such a statement said quite a lot in and of itself.
You met Lena through your friend Winn, who finally relented to you after you caught him in a lie (but you didn’t really have to try hard at all) about where he really worked, and he’d tripped over himself explaining how he met Lena “through work” when you knew he still worked at CatCo and she most definitely still worked at L-Corp.
You thought he was still hiding something, but that was Winn and you always knew he’d come around if there was anything he really couldn’t handle.
You’d gotten along with Lena right off the bat when you’d met her one night at a bar with some of Winn’s other friends. He’d introduced you to everyone, and they were all very welcoming of you and eager to bring you in, but you just couldn’t bring your attention away from Lena.
You wouldn’t admit it then, but you would say you could tell she was just as taken by you, and by how much closer you two physically got throughout the night, somehow ending up sitting beside each other rather than across from each other like you’d started the night - it was quite obvious you two had chemistry.
It was a bit of a surprise to you, just how much you had to talk about with a 24 year old billionaire, but what was even more of a shock was how much you still liked her despite her having something contrary to say about all the things you liked.
You two had bickered and teased each other all night, you realized Lena was just stringing you along after she’d noticed the keyring on your keys and teased you about your favourite soccer team.
She conceded later in the night with a dangerous smirk on her face (after another double jack and coke) that she didn’t actually care as much as she made it seem about soccer - she knew enough about it to poke fun at you, and you were too impressed by her ability to bullshit her way through a conversation with you to feel antagonized.
You’d all departed the bar that night and said your goodbyes, slightly buzzed and happily tipsy, and you were the last to bid Lena a goodnight.
It was only after you watched her sneak a wink over her shoulder at you as she walked away that you acquiesced to the realization that you didn’t remember to give her your number.
You didn’t have to wait too long, however, before you ran into her at the park while walking your dog one morning.
“Hey, Lena, how’s it going?” you smiled at her.
“Good morning, (Y/N),” she said, taking notice of your companion. “Who’s this big guy?”
“This is my puppy, Justin.”
Lena regarded your dog again, and stared questioningly at you and then at your full-sized Doberman, and back at you again.
“You named... your puppy... Justin?”
You grinned broadly at her and watched your dog shyly go up to her.
“Yeah, I love him. Still haven’t given him a middle name. I’ve got a few in mind though.”
She smiled peculiarly at you again, “what were you thinking, then?”
“Justin Time, Justin Case, Justin-credible.”
Lena broke out into laughter and nodded sagely, “right, of course.”
You watched as Justin warmed up to her and let himself be pet by her, Lena seeming to know what to do around unfamiliar dogs.
“We should go out again some time,” she said as she smiled at Justin’s inquisitive head tilt.
“Yeah! That’d be awesome, I had a great time with everyone last time. I don’t know when Winn’s gonna hit up everyone again though-”
“Oh, I meant you and I.”
“Oh. You mean like, by ourselves?”
“Yes, if you’d like, of course.”
“I totally would, I was actually thinking about how I didn’t get your number the other day-” your eyes widened and you snapped your mouth shut.
Lena grinned, “is that so?”
“Yeah,” you let out the affirmation in a sound that resembled more of a squeak than an actual word.
“Well, I suppose that just means I wasn’t the only one so carried away by how much fun I had.”
The rest of the encounter was spent in a blur, and you don’t think you can recall exactly what had happened, but you remember Lena hugging you (which you suppose was precisely the moment you blanked out) and her leaning down to pet Justin one last time as he tugged lightly on the leash to go after her, and you had your phone in your hand.
It wasn’t until you were at the door of your apartment that you really realized Lena saved her number into your phone, and it was another ordeal in itself for you to figure out when to text her and how and just what exactly you would say.
Lena made things easier for you, despite her affinity for making you a bumbling, happy mess sometimes.
You’d gotten better at being more composed around her, and you gave yourself all the credit for it.
And so it was, now you were waiting for her to come back, and you only had one night left before you’d be able to kiss your girlfriend again.
It was early in the evening and you’d just got back from walking Justin when you get an incoming Skype call from Lena.
You answer the call on your laptop with a beaming smile, Justin trailing happily behind you at the ringing.
“Hey, angel, what’s up?”
“Hi. I missed you,” she grumbles.
You didn’t have to see Lena’s pout to know it was there, and you smile to yourself. It didn’t take much for you to figure out she was laying in bed and on her phone.
“I missed you too, baby. Isn’t it 1 in the morning there? Why aren’t you sleeping?” you chastise lightly.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Did you even try?”
There’s a guilty pause on her end, and then, “I will...”
You laugh softly at her sleepy voice, and you thought to yourself how the hours really couldn’t go by any quicker, “alright, I’ll believe you.”
“Where’s my boy, Justin?” she asks.
“Oh don’t worry, he’s here. Slobbering at attention and all. Say hi to Lena, buddy!” you tilt the laptop screen closer to the ground and half of Justin’s face gets into the shot.
He immediately perks up when he sees Lena and he tries to get closer to the screen, putting his front paws up on the desk to get a better look.
Lena laughs, “hi, Justin! I missed you! Are you being a good boy? I’ll be back so soon to feed you all the food I know (Y/N) won’t let you have.”
You huff indignantly at her cooing and shake your head in amusement.
“Justin’s gonna get chubby because you keep feeding him your gourmet salmon.”
“He runs you in circles, my boy will never be a little chubster,” she grins.
“Seems like you missed him more than me,” you joke.
“Oh, I most certainly did.”
You click your tongue in mild offense and tilt the laptop screen back up to your face.
“I’ll hang up now, seeing as I’m unwanted.”
“Okay, leave the laptop on for Justin.”
You lift the dog up with considerable effort and put him in your lap. He’s a bundle of hair and everything when he’s trying to get comfortable and repositions himself on your legs.
“At least I can tell you in no uncertain terms how much I missed you. I don’t know if you speak the language of dogs,” you remark with a sulk.
“I don’t need to, I know it by how excited he gets whenever I come to visit.”
“Are you saying I need to drool on everything you own and chew up your one favourite heel for you to see how much I missed you?”
“Justin is a majestic creature, I let him do what he wants. You, on the other hand, should know better.”
“Maybe he does know better and he just knows you’ll let him off easy.”
“He’s a good boy regardless, I love him very much.”
“Go to sleep, Lena,” you smirk at her increasingly sleepy rambling.
“Okay, I love you too, you know.”
“I do know, baby. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Okay. You don’t have to pick me up okay? I know I’m going to be rather grumpy when I get back. I just want to crash at yours and cuddle.”
“Of course, we can do whatever you need.”
Lena hums sleepily and her eyelids seem to become heavier with the threat of sleep.
“I can’t wait to see you, goodnight,” she manages to mumble.
“Goodnight,” you murmur softly as you wait a moment before ending the call.
When you go to sleep just hours later, it’s with the fondness of knowing just how much of a nerd your girlfriend is, and how much you missed her.
It’s only with the promise of seeing her again that you finally convince yourself to fall asleep and be that much closer to reuniting with her.
When you get the text from her in the morning informing you that she’s close to your apartment, you can’t stop buzzing with even more excitement than you woke up with, and you figure Justin can feel some of that excess of energy too if his pacing around the apartment is any indication.
“You too, eh?” you mutter to him.
Justin merely huffs and keeps his guard on watching the door.
“You’re almost worse than me, you big sucker,” you say fondly as you tousle his fur.
It’s a few more minutes before there’s a knock on your door and Justin springs up from his sleepy post and you jolt to life.
You barely open the door before the entirety of Lena’s form slips through and melds into you, and you laugh as you feel her weight in your arms.
“Holy shit, I missed you so much,” you mutter into her hair.
You feel her pull away as she looks up at you, looking every inch the immaculate woman she is and not at all the exhausted woman you know she is.
She brings her hands to your cheeks and smiles as she pulls you in for a kiss. She runs her fingers through your hair and you bring her closer to you.
Justin waits patiently between the two of you, you can sense his presence even without having to feel his body pressed up between the two of you expectantly.
Lena hums lowly into the kiss and it’s only when you two break apart that you realize how sleepy she must be.
“Coffee, or sleep?” you ask.
“Kisses,” she grumbles, and she moves in for another kiss as you relent with fond admiration.
“You didn’t sleep much last night, did you?”
“No,” she supplies helpfully, and you think you’ve got enough for your answer.
You help her take her coat off and you hang it quickly before you jog to your room to get some of the comfy clothes that she keeps at your apartment.
Lena’s already settled into the couch and yawning as she curls into the cushions, and you almost feel bad about having to disrupt her.
“Baby, you should change, I don’t think that’s comfortable.”
“It’s fine, that’s a later problem,” she says sleepily, and you find yourself laughing again.
“You didn’t want to even sleep in a bed?”
Lena hums sleepily and you can tell she’s about to fall asleep again. You crouch down beside her sleepy form on your couch and smile at the sight of her. You place a hand gently on her cheek and rub your fingers at her temple.
She smiles contentedly and leans into the touch, and you kiss her on her forehead before you bring your hands up and tug at her ponytail.
Somehow in her sleepy state, she gets the idea and she lets you ease her hair out of the tie. She groans happily at the ease of pressure and you leave the hair tie on your wrist.
You move to stand up to let her sleep, but she feels you move away and reaches her hand out to stop you impressively quickly for someone who should have one foot in the dream world.
She mutters disapprovingly and her pout is out in full force. You grin at the display and roll your eyes.
“What do you want me to do, baby?”
“Cuddles, please,” she says quickly, and you only have half the mind to think about how difficult she makes it to not smile so much around her.
“Alright.”
She readjusts to make room for you. You fall asleep holding Lena snugly, and you know it already that she’d never admit it even if all the proof in the world stacked against her that she fell asleep within a minute of being in your arms.
It’s a few hours later, you deduce after waking up from your nap, and you feel Lena’s body still pressing against you firmly as if preventing your escape.
You try to slip away from her slowly and you see Justin laying quietly in a heap beside the couch and he looks up at you when he notices your movement.
You cock your head into the direction of the kitchen when you finally stand up, successfully not having woken up Lena and Justin follows obediently behind you.
It’s mid-afternoon, but you know coffee is always appreciated so you boil water for when Lena wakes up.
Only half an hour later, you walk back to check up on Lena after you hear significant movement coming from the living room.
Lena’s grinning as Justin sticks his entire face into her lap to coax all the cuddles out of her.
“I couldn’t have forgotten you, sweet boy. You did such a good job of protecting me while we were sleeping didn’t you? Yes, you did,” she says in her baby voice she uses specifically for Justin.
You smirk at the voice and leave momentarily. When you come back, it’s with a cup of coffee in hand for her.
She smiles brilliantly at you, in much better condition than when she first arrived and eyes the coffee mug you have.
She only purses her lips in challenge after she’s taken a few sips, and the expectant eyebrow that ticks at you makes you wonder what her problem is.
You glance at the coffee cup and it’s your favourite mug that Alex gave you for Secret Santa, the one that has “Good Morning, Asshole” written in a nice handwritten font on it.
You try to contain your laughter but your smile gives you away and Lena ticks her tongue at you.
You move to sit beside her and you bring an arm around her as she leans into you. You turn the TV on and leave the sound on a low volume as you sit in contemplative silence, and Lena leaves her coffee on the table. Justin lies in a heap like a carpet in front of the TV with you, finally content that he can take a nap.
“I’m really proud of you, you know,” you say after a moment.
“What? Why?” Lena asks with perplexity.
You suppose it’s justifiable, you hadn’t shared more than several words with her and you do have a bit of a habit of vocalizing things to continue a conversation you’ve been having solely in your head.
“No, it’s just- you’re out there doing your thing, travelling the world and also doing what you can to help it. I love being able to say, ‘that’s my girlfriend’. You make it hard to not be proud of you, actually.”
You smile to yourself, and you only pull yourself out of your reverie when you realize Lena is considerably quiet. When you turn to look at her, you see the mistiness of her eyes.
“Come here, you nerd,” you say fondly as you wrap Lena in an embrace. “This isn’t meant to be a crying moment.”
“If you didn’t keep saying wonderful things like that maybe I wouldn’t feel the need to cry as often.”
“You’re going to make Justin cry,” you say teasingly.
“I’ve missed both of you,” she says.
You bring her hand to your lips and place light kisses on her knuckles.
“Lie down,” is all you say, and she smiles at you, both parts in total adoration and in question.
You bring her feet to your lap and turn the volume of the TV up just a little bit higher. You start massaging her calves, leaning back into the couch as you continue your ministrations on Lena.
From the corner of your eye, you can feel her gaze on you, and you smile a little to yourself. You try not to, but you can’t help it - you sneak a glance at your girlfriend and realize just how lucky you are to have her relaxing on your couch with you.
She looks radiant with her hair down, her hair sprawled a little messily across the cushion and falling into cascades off her shoulders, and you think she’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.
You wonder if the tension in her calves has anything to do with her wearing heels far too often, and you muse deeper and deeper into just how much a creature of wonder Lena really is.
You stare blankly at the TV as you bring your hands blindly to her feet, but then she’s poking at you with her foot to get your attention.
“What?” you smile with amusement.
She’s silent for a beat before she says, “hi.”
“Hi,” you reply with a grin.
You laugh at the foolishness of the scenario - the lightness you feel now that Lena’s back and how easily she makes you feel weightless seems a lot like being home, regardless of whether you’ve left or where you will go.
You think that’s part of the magic of her.
“You look so cute,” she says.
You smirk, “thank you. I could say the same thing, but it goes without saying you always look amazing.”
“It’s really hard not to kiss you right now.”
“Oh yeah? What’s stopping you then?” you ask.
“You’re too far away,” Lena says simply.
You grin at the statement and turn to get a better look at her.
Then she adds, “come here,” more suggestively.
You stare at her in challenge, heavy with the weight of anticipation, and you move her legs off you gently before leaning in to hover above her.
“I really missed you, baby,” you say as you bring your lips just inches within hers.
“Really?” she whispers. “Care to show me?”
You smile mischievously as she tugs at the front of your shirt and wraps her legs around your waist.
You only have the vague notion that Lena Luthor is a little troublemaker, but you don’t have time to ponder it before you feel yourself getting lost in everything that makes her the remarkable woman that she is.
You feel nothing but happiness with the sudden realization of just how much you love her.
You would take the handful of moments you can steal with Lena if it meant being the only one to know fully and intimately the bliss of being the one who can love her the way you do.
For you, that was enough, and for now, the days you share until she has to leave again are enough.
For you, Lena is more than enough.
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Got My Mind on You [cegan]
angst ahoy! @buriedbrain gave me a list of prompts and from it, ‘sunset’ really stood out to me! so have some unrepentant angst, which is not what i usually write but is what my muse called for, apparently.
read it on ao3!
-
“Hey kid.”
Negan sits and uses Lucille as leverage to lower himself easier. Once he’s settled he stares at the bat, freshly cleaned, and debates leaning her up against the chipped block. He decides against it and lays her flat on the ground instead, in front of the grave. Still easy to grab is someone or something comes sneaking up on him.
Negan looks up slowly, still not quite able to face the truth in front of him.
Hasn’t been able to actually come out here since it happened. Not since he saw Rick and Daryl haul that huge fucking slab of concrete across Alexandria. Not since he saw every single fucking person take a turn at chopping away some of the weight, until it resembled a true grave. Not since he slipped into Alexandria himself and stared Rick down until he passed Negan a chisel and hammer.
He perfected the edges, since there wasn’t much left to do by the time Negan put his pride aside and confronted Rick. He admires the smooth curve of the tombstone now, and wishes he could feel proud of the craftsmanship. It’s a far sight better than the wooden poles people put up, sometimes.
Negan swallows the lump of emotion in his throat and reaches out to touch the stone. He traces his fingertips over the words clumsily carved into the slab. He winds his finger around the curve of the ‘C’ and the ‘G’ and wonders what his middle name was. When he asked Rick, the other man sheepishly admitted he couldn’t remember.
“Didn’t come up a lot. He was a good kid, didn’t have to middle name him all that often.” Rick shakes his head as he carves. He scowls when the chisel gets away from him and digs a wayward groove into the concrete. “Hadn’t had to think about that in years.”
Negan shakes his head. “Miss you, kid.” He’s at least grateful Rick remembered his birthday. It’d be goddamn sad as hell if that wasn’t on there. There’s no end date; none of them have a fucking clue what day or month or year it is anymore. Negan thinks it’s early fall. Something about the air reminds him of the start of school, though he knows that’s not much to go by.
“S’not the fuckin’ same.” Negan is barely able to get the words out. They catch in his throat like a clogged pipe, and he coughs awkwardly. A quick glance around assures him he’s still alone, but it doesn’t make it any easier to speak. “Your daddy an’I are actually fucking workin’ together. Isn’t that some shit?”
There’s no response, not that he expected one. He still hopes, sometimes. He’ll say something under his breath, or just loud enough that only someone right beside him could hear. There’s never a response.
Negan presses one hand against his eyes and tries to push back the tears. He didn’t cry much when Lucille died—but then again, he didn’t have to be the one to take her out. He sent some kid after her, too much of a coward to do his wife one last fucking favor. He can admit that’s what drove him to step up to the plate with Carl.
Rick offered, and Michonne—really, everybody did. The sense of community was stronger than ever, spurred on as Carl got sicker. Carol and Maggie and Daryl all stepped forward, but in the end it was Negan. He had Carl’s favored gun in hand, and Carl had nodded. It’s a foggy moment, Negan was a little drunk, and spent a not inconsiderable time after the fact drinking more.
“Do it.” Carl groans. He’s pale and sickly; his lips are blue and the fever rolls off him in waves. It’s nearly impossible to be near him. The stench of death clings to his skin and as much as Negan wants to kiss him, it’s hard to feel the clammy skin under his lips. It’s even harder to hear the strangled, rasping breaths that fall from Carl’s mouth.
“Do it.” Carl’s voice is stronger, a demand. “I want Negan to do it. It should be him.”
No one had questioned it after that, though Negan knew Rick wanted to. It was just too much to go against Carl at that point. Negan wouldn’t have denied the kid a single fucking thing, and he took some solace in knowing Rick felt the same.
“We’re workin’ together now,” Negan says again. “Got a good barter system going. No one’s died since.” His voice catches. “Since you.” He drops his gaze to his lap and finally closes his eyes. “It’s not my favorite thing. Your daddy is still up on a fuckin’ high horse. But… I’m doing it, you know. For you. Cuz of you.”
Negan pinches the bridge of his nose. It takes him a while to calm the hammering of his heart. He breathes deep and counts down from ten over and over until he feels less like vomiting. He still can’t open his eyes, it hurts too much to look at the grave. He stays there, choked up, until an evening chill whips past him and brings him out of his thoughts.
He looks up. He’s surprised to see the sky painted in pinks and oranges and purples. It’s gorgeous and it only adds to the ache in his chest. His heart feels weighed down practically into his gut. Negan stares at the sky far longer than really necessary. For as much as it makes things worse, it also kind of helps.
Eventually, he looks back at the grave and sighs. “Sorry, kid.” He doesn’t bother glancing around this time. He leans forward and presses his shaking, chapped lips to the cool headstone. He stays there a while, until the tears recede and he can breathe mostly easy. Without lingering he stands and grabs Lucille off the ground.
He turns on his heel and walks away. He makes it a few feet before he runs into someone, and isn’t shocked to see Rick standing on the beaten path with a handful of flowers. They both stop and regard each other. Negan is painfully aware of the tear tracks sticking to his skin, even if they’re hidden by his beard. Rick’s eyes are already red-rimmed and look sore.
“You goin’ back?” Rick asks, gruff.
Negan nods.
Rick looks down at the mismatched flowers in his hand. “I won’t be long. Was just here the other night. Thought it might be nice to put out some fresh ones.” He shakes the bouquet. Negan is about to nod again and brush past Rick—they aren’t friends, not even close—but the other man speaks again. “Why don’t you come over for a drink after I’m done?”
Negan blinks. “Are you shittin’ me, Rick?”
Rick actually smiles, though it looks as pained as Negan feels. “Yeah, I’m serious.” He shrugs. “You don’t have to.” Rick starts off the way Negan just came from. He stops once he’s a few feet past where Negan stands. “I may not have understood it, and I sure as hell never want to hear the details but… But I think you and I maybe understand this a little better than anyone else.”
Negan nods, then clears his throat when he remembers Rick can’t see him. “Alright.” He agrees. “If I go up to your house am I gonna be shot on sight?”
Rick laughs this time. “No, you won’t. Go ahead and get started without me. I won’t be long,” he says again. He walks away again and he doesn’t stop. Negan starts to walk when the faint sounds of Rick talking to the grave filter over the wind. It feels wrong to intrude.
Negan slips into Rick’s home without fanfare. Michonne isn’t around, neither is Judith, so he goes right to the liquor cabinet. It’s sparsely stocked but he knows there’s a nice bottle of whiskey stashed in there. He brought it to Alexandria for some reason or other, and is glad for it now.
He pours himself a few fingers and knocks them back. He’s a glass or three down by the time Rick wanders in. There’s not a word spoken as Rick grabs a glass of his own. He holds out his cup and Negan fills it nearly halfway, then refills his own. They raise their glasses in unison and gently tap their drinks together. Negan nods and Rick grins faintly, and they both swallow their drinks in one go.
Negan keeps refilling their drinks until eventually they stumble over to the couch. Still reluctant to speak to or even look at Rick, Negan looks out the window instead. The sky is more purples and blues now, the oranges and pinks fading away. Heart aching once more, Negan reaches for the bottle and realizes it’s empty, and Rick laughs.
Despite himself, Negan laughs too. It hurts, it pulses in pain like a bullet wound that he can’t stop fucking with. Because he’s drunk off his ass with his dead lover’s father, and it’s the happiest he’s been in a long goddamn time. There aren’t words for how ridiculous it is, but that only adds to the humor. Faintly he feels like something is carving his heart from his chest each time he gasps for air, and he has to set his cup aside before it tumbles to the carpet.
“I miss him,” Negan finally declares, voice thick and tight.
Rick stops laughing slowly. “I miss him, too.”
Negan shakes his head. “What a fuckin’ pair we make, huh?”
“It’s what he would’ve wanted.” Rick’s reply is swift and immediate.
Negan regrets drinking all the good liquor so fast but the buzz is dulling his senses enough. He nods, and replies, sad but sure.
“Yeah, it is.”
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how jack and davey accidentally (and then not) ended up spending all their valentines days together
February 14th 2014
davey
will u hate me if i ask if ur free rn
why would i hate you
i dont want to assume
happy v day
wow jack
i’m actually on two dates right now
mrs doubtfire style
what’s up
she dumped me
on the phone
half an hour ago
come over
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Davey led Jack through to the living room, glancing cautiously over his shoulder to try and gauge his friend’s mood.
‘No. Yeah. Not really.’ Jack slumped on the couch, clutching his paper grocery bag to his chest. Davey perched on the armrest. ‘I just. Like, I knew it wasn’t serious, whatever. But you can have a fun valentines with someone you’re not serious about! I did it all the time in middle school!’
‘Maybe she thought it was a bigger deal than it was?’
‘That’s what I tried to tell her! But you can’t try and convince a girl to go out with you when she doesn’t want to. Learnt that in middle school, too.’
‘So it’s over?’
‘I think so. She said that she got the impression we were moving too fast - which we weren’t - and she wanted to cool off.’
‘That’s not the end of the world, right?’
‘Nah. I don’t know. How many good relationships start like that?’
‘I think valentines must have just freaked her out, Jack. Happens to a lot of people.’
‘We’ll see. I’m thinking I’m maybe just a little infatuated with her, right? Talk to me in a few days and I’ll be back to normal.’
‘So tonight isn’t an I-hate-girls-bros-before-hos thing?’
‘Almost. Still want you to indulge me.’ Jack tipped up the bag on to the couch. A pint of ice cream, a six pack of beer, and a thing of chips ahoy bounced out.
‘I actually found my copy of Mrs. Doubtfire. Thought it might help.’
‘God damn it. It’s perfect.’ He grabbed the DVD from Davey and started setting it up while Davey headed into the kitchen. He called through. ‘And Dave?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Anyone asks, we both had smoking hot dates for tonight, alright? And not with each other.’
‘Got it.’
//
‘Stop hogging it, oh my god.’
‘Shut up, you’re making me miss it!’
‘You know what happens, Dave! Gimme.’ Jack grabbed the tub and triumphantly started digging out some cookie dough. Davey let him have it. They had sunk down into the couch under Davey’s comforter with a million pillows for company. Orange street light filtered through the blinds. It was only nine o clock.
‘Forgot to ask the most important question, Davey Jacobs.’ Jack poked him with the end of his spoon. ‘Why don’t you have plans tonight?’
‘Ah. Like, I kind of... I don’t know. Don’t wanna force plans just cause of the day, you know? If I had a person, that’d be great. But I don’t, so. Just another Friday!’
‘No-one caught your eye?’
‘Not really? I mean. The guy who gets my coffee at Starbucks every morning, like, we’re on semi-first name terms. But then, he wears a name badge, so. Yeah, no-one. But I don’t mind!’
‘You don’t wanna be set up or anything, right?’
‘God, no. What happens, happens. What doesn’t doesn’t.’ 
‘So fricken mature, Jacobs. Shame we can’t all be Race and Spot.’
‘What, fall in love after making eye contact but pretend to be casual?’
‘You know Spot made them a reservation for tonight? He made it in October.’
‘Oh, my heart. See, that’s the thing. If I found someone the way those two did, then I’d do the Valentines thing. ‘Til then I’m saving all the stress of... trying to romance someone.’
‘And you get to hang out with me.’
‘Oh yeah. How much am I getting paid for babysitting again?’
‘Funny guy, Davey. Now, listen, cuz this is important.’
‘Shoot.’
‘Do you have Aladdin?’
‘Of course I have Aladdin.’
February 14th 2015
‘And he said that going out on Valentines day felt too much like forcing something to happen. I swear to god. Can’t make eye contact with anyone whole month of February or they’ll think you’re trying to marry ‘em.’
‘So you’re not going out at all?’
‘We’re going out tomorrow. I mean. One day different! Same bar, same drink, same Jack Kelly trying to get into his pants. Just twenty four hours difference.’
‘It’s nice that you didn’t let this quirk stop you from trying to get laid.’
‘He’s still pretty much the hottest guy I know.’
‘Do you know what he’s doing tonight?’
‘I bet you anything he’s doing that kind of... the thing where you burn your ex’s underwear. Polaroids.’
‘Way less cliche than our Valentines day spent scarfing ice cream and pretending we weren’t crying over Robin Williams.’
‘God. Palentine’s day 2014. That should be a thing.’
‘That should be a thing!’
‘I mean. It’s slightly becoming a thing.’ Jack tipped out his backpack to reveal an exact duplicate of their snacks from the year before. ‘Can’t lie, Dave, I’m starting to wonder if this is better than doing real Valentines.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Not that, you know, I’m triumphant that you’ve been abandoned or anything.’
‘Oh, of course not. Your cheer on the other end of the phone said that much.’
‘When’s he back?’
‘Tomorrow.’
Davey’s Starbucks barista had turned into Davey’s something else, asking him out the day he quit the coffee shop to put his marketing degree to use. Davey, shocked that his idle daydreams about this guy who made his coffee could actually be manifested in real life, said yes.
Well, it was before his coffee, so he had actually said something like uhhwhatyeahsureyes. 
And that had been eight months previous. Evan had slotted effortlessly into Davey’s life, doing the date thing, meeting his parents, weekends away, only kind of slightly stealing Davey from Jack (like that was the kind of thing Jack would notice anyway.) 
Because Jack had, since the last Valentine’s day, well - he had almost become involved with a number of people. Unsure what he wanted, he went on dates, slept with people, not always in that order, flirted with girls and guys on a daily basis and even started tipping his baristas more after seeing Davey’s success - but he hadn’t found his person. That was okay, he didn’t mind. He was still a kid, in his head. He had forever to be tied down. Did miss hanging out with Davey, though.
So when Davey had phoned to say that Evan had been called away last minute for an overnight conference, it took Jack roughly two seconds to get excited about reprising their bittersweet Robin Williams carb fest from the year before. He, of course, waited before posing it, listening to Davey whine just a little about how he was going to miss Evan, before picking the right moment to tell Davey about the guy he’d asked out - the one who told him any day but Valentine’s. And so they found themselves again on Davey’s couch, illuminated by the TV, slumped in onesies, digging into some Ben and Jerry’s.
‘Got him anything good?’
‘I got him this gin he likes. Some socks. I’m... I’m thinking about giving him a key.’
‘A key?’
‘I mean, like, to my apartment. Not just a random key.’
‘You’re so fuckin... grown up.’
‘I know!’ Davey looked over at Jack, grinning. Jack was enraptured by the TV. The lion was chasing the kids through the house.
‘I really hate this part. Terrified me when I was a kid.’
‘Me too.’ Davey turned back to the screen. Between them somewhere on the comforter, his phone lit up, drawing both their attentions.
Evan Abrams facetime.
Davey looked up at Jack, who was staring at the phone. ‘Sorry, Jack. I’ll be quick, okay?’
‘Ah, you crazy kids.’ Jack picked up the cookies and paused the movie as Davey picked up the call, hurrying into the kitchen. 
Things that weren’t weird: getting annoyed when your best friend’s boyfriend interrupted your Valentine’s bro date.
Even as he thought this, he had trouble believing it.
February 14th 2016
Wait -
January 20th 2016
Jack’s place. Wednesday night. Home from work. Long day. Roommate out. Slippers and Mad Men. Around nine, a knock on the door.
Davey stood, leaning against the wall, eyes red rimmed, staring into space. Jack watched him bite his lip, blink, open his mouth.
‘He’s been sleeping with his boss. For about a year, now.’ He looked up and into Jack’s eyes. ‘It’s over.’
It was freezing cold and it had been dark for hours. Jack opened his arms and Davey swayed forward into them, hiding his face in Jack’s neck, leaning on him as Jack squeezed him tight. Jack realised, as he stared out into the street and thought about the hollow, manic look in Davey’s eyes, he’d never seen his best friend cry. Davey felt almost horrible in his arms, stiff and shuddering.
‘Come on, you’re freezing.’
Davey followed him in silently, collapsing heavily on the couch when Jack gestured for him to sit. 
‘Do you wanna talk about it? You don’t have to.’
He knew Evan was a shit. Well. He didn’t really. But he had definitely thought that Evan’s whole thing reeked of too-good-to-be-true - a marketing exec who wore fitted suits and didn’t believe in lazy Sundays. And he combed his hair every single day, like, what was that? That is to say that he could see why Davey had fallen for him, but from the outside looking in? Davey could do better. Evan wasn’t... real. That was it. Evan’s demeanour was always so practised and so perfect that it made total sense he would be hiding something huge. Not that Jack would tell Davey this.
‘We went out tonight. To the bar on Elizabeth Street. And, um.’ Davey rubbed his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. ‘We had like five or six rounds. I think maybe he wanted to be drunk. I am. Shit. So drunk.’ He squinted out into the room. Jack was sitting next to him on the couch, watching him sink into the cushions. ‘And then he just came out with it. We must have been in this bar talking like everything was okay for two hours before he said it. The conferences. Like, they were real. But his boss was there too. I feel like such a...’ Davey covered his face with his hands. ‘I can’t believe I thought I was enough for him.’
February 14th 2016
‘So I’ve got Hook, Dead Poet’s Society, and Night at the Museum,’ Davey announced as he walked in. ‘We thinking chronological, alphabetical?’
‘Reverse alphabetical. I need to warm up with Night at the Museum before I can even think about those fricken dead poets.’
Over the last twelve months Jack had enjoyed a number of romantic encounters. He’d gone steady with one girl for two months and even enjoyed a couple of fourth dates with different people before the inevitable fizzling started. Still not desperate he’d tried to focus on his art and maybe finding a better job than his restaurant gig, sure that when a person that was right for him came along, he’d know about it.
Over the last twelve months Davey had been going from strength to strength with Evan. They had moved in together, merged DVD collections, all that good stuff. This had given Jack a lot of time to think about why he just... didn’t love Evan, and he had come up with a fair few reasons. The most troubling of these came as a slow realisation that Davey was too good for him. Way too good. 
He started measuring up potential dates next to Davey. Started to get these little twinges in his stomach when Davey entered the room. And it felt good to indulge so he started to let himself stare a little at Davey’s mouth when he talked, his hands when he wrote or held a beer or just kind of anything, his face just all the time but especially when he got excited about stuff. 
That’s to say that Jack had been harbouring a very minor, very unimportant... crush for about eight or nine months now. But it was fine. Because Davey was with someone. And their friendship was important to him. It made way more sense for them to stay friends while they dated and had sex with and broke up with other people - Relationships were messy.
He wasn’t happy per se when Davey and Evan ended things, but he knew that Davey was better off out of it. And he hated that as he sat consoling Davey the night it happened, he was trying to make sense of his feelings for him. 
He kept Valentine’s free on purpose, excited that it was theirs, with or without romantic complications.
Valentine’s day fell about three weeks after Davey broke up with Evan. Evan’s stuff was gone from his apartment, selfies deleted from his phone, new hangout spots found that wouldn’t remind him of their time together. It was hard trying to get used to being single so quickly - he noticed the lack of welcoming kisses to come home to, and the casual lingering touches. He missed them, even if he knew that most of their relationship had been built on lies. But Jack was an excellent ally in single life, and having their newfound Valentine’s day tradition definitely helped take the sting out.
‘You’re so smart.' He put the movie in and took his seat next to Jack. Jack handed him a beer. Easy, reliable, comfortable silence.
Or it was comfortable silence, until an hour into the movie when Jack realised Davey had barely made a noise - not even a quiet huff of laughter. He looked across to see Davey focused on his drink, silently tapping a fingertip against the neck of the bottle, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.
‘Dave?’
‘Mmm?’
‘What’s up?’
‘What? Nothing. Sorry.’
‘Come on.’
‘I just. I miss him. And I know I shouldn’t. I know he was an asshole. Still.’
‘That’s natural. It takes time, right?’
‘Right. Right. It’s just - crazy how you can be with someone. And then just. Not.’
Jack had tried so hard to tell Davey how the problem wasn’t with him - it was with Evan not knowing what a good thing he had. And yet dumb Davey kept thinking that if he had done something differently, been someone else, Evan wouldn’t have cheated on him. Jack just... wanted Davey to understand how perfect he was.
‘I’m sorry. I know I’m being really boring.’
Because the thing was that Davey would always carry this little flame of self-doubt, if Jack didn’t try his hardest to extinguish it. He’d always think that he needed to be more than he was, instead of being able to trust that the other person liked him anyway. How to let Davey know without pushing it?
‘Hey now. Shut up. You’re allowed to be emo, Dave.’ Jack paused the movie and stood up. ‘Come on. Get up.’
‘What?’
‘Up! We’re going out.’
‘Out where?’
‘Just outside for five minutes, Davey. Trust me, come on.’
Davey stared up at him from the couch, intrigued, sceptical, and aware that Jack was a stubborn asshole and thus inclined to co-operate.
They walked around the block, Jack leading Davey through comically exaggerated breathing exercises that sounded like they’d come from a second-rate birthing instructor.
‘Breathe out that negative energy and low self-esteem and bullshit... Breathe in the potential of the city, and the - the romance in the air, and I don’t fuckin know, the moonlight.’
Davey snorted. ‘The moonlight?’
‘I’m tryin’ my best!’
The smile was foreign and amazing on Davey’s face. They were standing outside his front door. Jack in front of him, lit up from behind by a streetlight, took Davey’s shoulders in his hands.
‘Davey, listen up. You’re the best guy I know. It really hurts to see you so cut up about this. But I know it won’t be long ‘til you meet someone better, who sees how important and special you are, alright? ‘Til then you’re stuck with me, of course, but beggars can’t be choosers.’ He watched Davey for his reaction. Had he gone too far?
Davey pulled him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around Jack and squeezed tight, sagging into him when Jack hugged back. He kept kept kept holding Jack for a couple of minutes, like he was trying to figure something out about the way their chests were pressed together. The longer they stood there together the more Jack started to wonder if he was really on to something, and if Davey was beginning to understand. He would never try to push his best friend into anything he wasn’t ready for and hell, maybe didn’t even want - but this closeness, it said something. Their breathing synced up. Jack could feel warmth radiating from Davey’s skin.
Davey took half a step back, like he was thinking about maybe preparing to end the hug. Their faces next to each other, heads in woolly hats connected temple to temple, Jack’s scratchy stubble on his cheek. He spoke into Jack’s ear.
‘Thanks, Jack.’
Jack smiled bittersweet, thinking that he’d stay in this embrace as long as Davey would let him. Davey inched back, just a little, and all Jack could comprehend was how their mouths were mere inches apart, centimetres even. Was Davey - could they -?
Davey didn’t know what he was doing. He was fizzing inside from Jack’s words and had hugged him to say thank you, but there was something in how Jack’s arms effortlessly held him so tight and for so long, that made him want to stay forever. Jack’s skin against his, Jack’s breath on his ear, his familiar smell. He had always been there.
He rested their foreheads together and Jack didn’t stop him. ‘Jack.’
Jack’s eyes were trained on Davey’s mouth. This was new. They were edging out of friend territory. He barely had the presence of mind to wonder if Davey should even be thinking about kissing him - he was too busy hoping that he was.
When they finally kissed it was sweet and searching and only lasted a couple of seconds. Jack didn’t want to push and Davey was still unsure. It was sublime. A moment of tentatively pressing their lips together followed by another of Davey chasing the sensation, bringing one hand round to cup Jack’s cheek, check he was real. When Jack pulled back, his breath hitched at Davey’s shining eyes. He dared to touch Davey’s face, run his fingertips down his cheek and over his lips.
‘Now you know.’ It came out a whisper. Davey nodded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in.
‘We should get inside.’ They finally stepped away from each other, but before leading Jack back in Davey reached out, picking up his hand and holding it tight.
February 14th 2017
Jack combed his fingers through Davey’s hair, grinning at the sated, sleepy expression on his face. Davey blushed under the gaze of his gross, sweaty boyfriend, pulling him down for a long kiss. 
They had woken up the morning of February 15th 2016 the way they always did, tangled up in a comforter on Davey’s couch, sun struggling through the curtains to land on their faces. Usually, however, they weren’t tangled up in each other at the same time. The night before had seen them muddle through their emotions in a halting conversation which saw Davey admitting that being close to Jack felt right, and natural, and normal. This admittance led to Jack readily opening his arms again and letting a confused Davey lay his head on his chest. In the twilight nothing seemed solid. They could deal with it all later. 
Davey, off to work at eight thirty, left Jack sound asleep, texting him instead of waking him.
can we hang out later? ok if you’re busy. let me know when you finish work.
Three hundred and sixty five days of taking it slow later and Jack was still trying to show Davey how their leap of faith was worth it, a fact Davey well knew, but he wasn’t about to stifle Jack’s enthusiasm. Having Jack Kelly as a boyfriend was like having a cheerleader and a lover all rolled into one best-friend-shaped package and yes, Davey had been reticent at the start, so soon after breaking up with Evan, but Jack had been patient, and sincere, and suddenly it was already their first anniversary.
It was only 10pm when they got home from their meal, Jack having beaten even Spot in booking them a table months in advance, and around midnight when they collapsed on to Davey’s bed, exhausted, thrilled, and very naked.
‘I love you so god damn much.’ How good it felt to finally say those words out loud instead of screaming them in his head!
‘I love you too, you giant nerd.’ Davey gripped Jack’s hand to his chest. ‘I’m really glad we started that Valentine’s thing three years ago, too. I keep thinking how happy I am that girl dumped you.’
‘You sweet talker, Dave. I actually keep thinking about how we never finished that movie last year.’
‘Night at the Museum?’
‘That’s the one.’ Jack raised his eyebrows. ‘Seems a shame to discard our old traditions just ‘cause we’ve found some new activities.’
‘You’re serious? Naked Palentine’s day?’
‘Yes! Get your ass up!’ Jack jumped up, whisking away the comforter from where it had been kicked to the foot of the bed. He reached out to pull Davey up. ‘Come on, those nights were almost perfect, right?’
‘Almost perfect?’
‘Too many clothes.’ He wrapped the comforter around their shoulders and they padded as one into the living room.
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sgtbbvrnes · 7 years
Text
Laundromat Adventures
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: (hot mess au) based on a prompt from this list Words: 1,438 Warnings: language (what’s new) Notes: idk i wanted to write but then this crap came out and since i already wrote it imma post it so wew not angst WEW
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It’s probably illegal, but that doesn’t much bother you at three a.m. when you’re sat inside the laundromat within walking distance to your apartment. 
You’re also kind of really lazy, with a procrastination level that really just needs to stop, which leads to how you’d used up literally every piece of clean clothing that you owned, which then led to how you’d had to make an emergency trip to the laundromat in the middle of the night, and then proceed to shove your clothes into two machines, and then take up residence on a dryer, swinging your legs, whilst dressed in only your underwear, eating Chips Ahoy.
Case in point: probably illegal for indecent exposure or something. 
But no one’s going to come in, anyway, since it’s a weekday and no one (else) (in their right mind) would wash their clothes at three a.m. 
Except. The bells above the door jingle and you stop your legs mid-swing, mid-chew, head almost whipping to look at the door to look at who’s just come in.
He stops too, pausing at his eyes dart down your barely clad frame, before snapping back up to your face and then darting to look at his boots. 
“Sorry,” he mutters, and you blink at him, casually folding your arms over your chest.
“’s fine. My fault for being in my underwear at a public place,” you give him a lopsided grin that he doesn’t even turn to look at as he shoves his clothes into a machine that’s basically at the other side from where you are. 
He doesn’t say anything to that and you’re kind of grateful. Initiating small talk with a stranger whilst in your underwear was never on your bucket list, anyway. 
Except, now that he’s in there with you, and the TV show that you’d been watching has just ended, so you’ve no other form of entertainment apart from him. 
So you watch him, as creepy as that sounds. You watch as he shoves black clothing after black clothing into the machine, then moves to the next one and shoves the coloured clothing into it. You see something stained on one of his blue shirts and you pay no mind to it, because— why would you?
Then you see another stain on a maroon shirt this time. Then another much larger one on a light blue button down. Then—
“What the fuck— is that blood?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself, because. 
Dark red. Large patches of red. That still looks very bright, now that you think about it, and very wet. 
You snap your eyes to him, just as he’s pulled off the top he’s wearing in the current moment and throwing that into the machine, too, but he freezes right after doing so.
You see him lick at his lips, then slowly turn his head to look at you, before looking back at the settings on the machine. 
“... No.”
You shouldn’t antagonise him. Number one: he’s a stranger. Number two: since you were 97% sure that the stains were blood, you could damn well be dead if you annoy him. 
But—
“Bullshit, I saw it! It’s all over your clothes! It’s all of it, isn’t it? Your clothes. The stains. They’re all covered in blood, aren’t they?” 
You’re still staring at the machine, so when he makes a sound at the back of his throat, you look back at him, and—
“Your arm is metal.” You notice belatedly, mentioning it like he doesn’t already know that. Also: it’s very rude. You blink. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rude,” you wince, looking at him with a sheepish look. 
“It’s not blood,” is all he says in response, and it’s hurried enough that you think he hadn’t even planned on saying as much. He blinks, shaking his head. “I mean. It is. It’s not my blood.”
You take a step back at that.
He seems to realise what he’s said and how it sounds like (because it sounds like he is a murderer and you really do not fancy running to the police station in your underwear at three o’clock in the fucking morning), and he raises his hands up in surrender. “That’s not what I meant! It’s blood from a ton of different people.”
Another step back. Because now he sounds like a serial murderer.
“Wait,” he says again, and then he’s wincing and squeezing his eyes shut as he shakes his head, bringing his metal hand to his forehead. “This is why there’s a muzzle,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, but you hear it and you just—
“A muzzle?!” You nearly shriek, taking several steps back this time. 
“No! I— fuck,” his eyes are wide (and very blue) and he’s still got his hands out like he’s trying to show you that he’s unarmed. Except for, you know. His metal arm. “Can we start this over?” He asks, even though he looks like all he wants to do is turn tail and run, in all his half nakedness glory. 
“Um.”
“I’m Bucky Barnes. I work with the Avengers. People know me as the Winter Soldier. There is blood on my clothes, yeah, but they’re all from either aliens, or terrorists. That I didn’t kill, by the way. Just seriously injured.” He—Bucky Barnes, apparently—finishes, looking a little stunned and you’re not exactly sure why. 
“If you’re an Avenger then shouldn’t you have... your own washing machine...” is the only thing you can bring yourself to say, because that’s all that your mind’s caught on. 
You know about the Avengers. You’ve heard of the Winter Soldier. You’ve also heard about all the shit that he’s been through. The whole dying (but not really) and then being brainwashed and used like a puppet, and then getting his memory back (but not really) and then some other shite in between.
You never thought you’d ever meet an Avenger, let alone see one up close and talk to one. They’re kind of never around except for during a major crisis-slash-fate of the world thing is going on, so talking to one (or one who works with them) whilst half naked in a laundromat isn’t really something you’re awake enough to process. 
He mumbles something out in response, and you really didn’t catch a word, so you’re going, “Sorry?”
The tips of his ears blush pink and when he glances at you, he’s got his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip and he really doesn’t look anything like the ruthless Winter Soldier that you’d seen on TV more than a few times. He looks like a normal young adult with procrastination problems, just like you. 
“There’s too many buttons,” he mumbles out again. 
You can’t help the breath of laughter that escapes you. He—Bucky—looks at you then, even redder, and you’re shaking your head, “’m not laughing at you, I promise. Or, well. I just— I’ve seen you. On TV.”
He arches a brow then. 
“I’ve seen you handle, like, alien tech, and the most complicated guns that I’ve never actually seen, even online. But you can’t figure out a washing machine?”
“There’s— It’s— Stark’s so— There’s too many buttons,” he finally gets out, even though he’s less red and even smiling a little, though he still looks away.
“Sorry, sorry,” you apologise through a chuckle. You’re still tense, but you think that’s mostly because you’re half naked in front of a complete stranger, and not because you’re afraid about being killed by said stranger. “My turn to start over. Hi. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, and I’m just really shit at planning things out, so I have no clean clothes left, at all, and that’s why I’m in my underwear in a public laundromat.”
“Y/N,” Bucky repeats, like he’s tasting your name on his tongue. 
You know for a fact that he’s American. But for some reason, he says your name with a hint of an accent and you think it’s the best version of your name you’ve heard.
Or maybe it’s just way too late and you’re too tired and putting unnecessarily stupid thoughts into your head.
Either way—
“Wanna watch crappy TV and eat cookies with me?” You offer, a half-grin on your face as you lift yourself back up onto the machine you were sitting on, your Chips Ahoy still open and three-fourths full. 
He looks back at his machine, then the TV, then finally back at you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that, thanks.”
As far as laundromat visits go, you think this is the best one yet. 
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noyolasjourney-blog · 7 years
Text
The Journey Began
My name is Angelica Noyola, the oldest of a family of eleven.
I was the first grand daughter in the maternal side of my family, shortly after, two brothers and two boy cousins where born, I was the only girl for a while. I was about four or five years old when Mi mama Carmen ( my grandmother) and I visited El Mercado ( something very similar to a farmers market). This memories I treasure so much, that I must share with all of you today, so they can stay with me forever. After grandma finished her purchases, she use to stop by a small juice stand and treat me with a huge Malteada De Chocolate (Chocolate Milkshake). Let me tell you, the cup, was so big, that I barley could handle it with both of my hands! After that, we stopped at a little stand to get grandmas favorite, Torta De Pescado Frito ( A fried fish sandwich, usually made with a type of French bread, which we call bolillo, also known as Telera) she topped which she topped with lots of salsa, San Luis brand, of course, and lime juice ( which we known as lemons at my hometown) They days at grandmas house felt always long, maybe because it was no kids to play with, at the time. I can recall some of the conversations that grandma and Mi mama Chencha ( my great grandmother) used to have, they always mentioned names of persons that I didn’t know, Se fueron pa el Norte"( el Norte is the way they call The USA in my home town, it also means The North) they both said Que Dios Los vendinga! ( God bless them) and prayers following.
Our family grew super quickly, by the age of seven, I had seven siblings and a bunch of cousins, my mom and two aunts had kids about the same time.
One day, my parents got into a big argument, I don’t know what happened, but I remember we moved to grandmas house, The day after we moved , I remember my mom left with my aunt, They went to the nearest phone booth to call my uncle, who lived in El Norte! My uncle did not visited often but when he did he used to bring lots of m&m’s and chips ahoy cookies! Plus a lot of black trash bags, full of used clothes, all sizes and types. If I was lucky to fit in something I could keep it!
My mom and aunt came back several hours later, I remember them talking and getting upset, my grandma was the one who looked more upset. I remember when my mom said Nos vamos a ir al Norte! For a quick second I thought we were moving, my dad came to my mind, but shortly after, my grandma asked, Y estas criaturas? ( what about this kids?) my mom answered, we are only leaving for a year! My chest got really hard, my face felt hot and tears flowed out if my eyes, but no body noticed. I was confused and scared, my parents where everything to me! I never even imagine my life without them. Days after that, the day came, my mom and aunt were leaving, we were a total of ten kids, seven of us and my three cousins. All of us stayed at grandmas.
The day of departure my mom, put both of her hands on my shoulders and said, I’m leaving for a while, I will send for you later okay, you must take care of your siblings, it is your responsibility because you are the oldest, okay" I just nodded in acceptance. That was the first time that I felt the responsibility of been the oldest kid of the family , I was seven, almost eight years old. About a week later we all were waiting for my grandma, she went to make a phone call to find out about her daughters. I remember telling one of my cousins that I was scared, he quickly replied, I’m not, if they can’t cross they’ll be back soon, then I prayed to got to not let my mom to cross but it was to late.
The days after my mom left felt long, very long, I lost conscience of the time. Along with all ten kids, my grandma had to deal with her teenage daughter, she was very disrespectful to grandma and mean to us, I can’t blame here, all this kids came suddenly to take her mothers attention, no wonder she was so mean. One day, she was mean to my brother Jorge, he is the second in our family, not sure what happened but my brother run away, yes he disappeared! Grandmas was very worried, she and other person went to look for him. Several hours later she was back but not my brother, I asked for him and she responded, he is with your dad, without thinking I responded quickly, I want to go with dad too! She just looked at me and walked away, my grandma never showed emotions or cried, she was very strong, but her ayes could talk and I knew she was sad. I missed my brother too but it didn’t feel as bad, I guess I was getting used to see my loved ones going away.
Several days after that episode, my grandma gave me a pair of pink pants and a white and pink sweater, I never liked soft pink but it was always exiting to get a new outfit ( well not new, used but new to me) it was my turn to go to the market! Since the list of grandkids was long , we had to take turns and that week, was not my turn, but I was not going to miss that one! Same routine, I got my chocolate shake, that for some reason, was getting smaller and easier to handle. On our way to the bus station, I heard my dads voice! I turned quickly and there he was, with open arms waiting for me to run to him and hung from his neck so he could carry me, I sure did! I was the happiest girl then, until I found out that I was going back to grandmas, not that I did not like it, I just wanted to be with my daddy. He explained that all was going to be okay and that he was going to go visit every weekend, I just nodded in approval. My brother Jorge was with my dad but stayed at my paternal grandmother, because my dad had to work. Dad used to visit on the weekends and get some treats for us, until one Saturday he didn’t show, I waited and waited, my grandma was furious. Three weeks passed by and he did not showed, then my grandma went to check on him and said that he was completely drunk, he had been drinking for three weeks non stop and without eating any food. There it was, that feeling again, hard chest, hot face and tears. But again nobody noticed. I believe, my dads condition was the reason why my mom returned , yes, one unexpected day she was back! I was very happy, it looked as if all was getting back to normal. Not for long!
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