#was praying someone would play it and it being this group? fantastic the best I could have asked for | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iphoenixrising · 3 years

Text

DickTimWeek2021 Day 2

** Day 2: Time Loop | Jealousy | Stray AU

Welp. Time to break some hearts.

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows.

“Did you see that thug punch himself in the face?”

“That’s the right way to get out of an ass beating by the Batman.”

Tim, still in Red Robin, doesn’t even bother, just lets his knees buckle so he can slide down to the floor and laugh until tears are rolling down the dominio still plastered on his face.

He’s riding the concussion train with

(J)

Josephine and she’s not as bad as some of them are.

Dick at least tosses the gloves and gauntlets before hauling Timmy’s bruised ass up off the floor, throwing the arm around his shoulders.

“C’mon, you butt. Really Timmy, just laying here in your suit? Alfred would be appalled.”

“S’why I don’t go to the Manor much anymore.”

“Ooh, I’m telling. You’re going to be in so much trouble,” as he gets Tim down the hallway to the bathroom.

“Y-You can’t! You’re the oldest! Dami’s supposed to be the tattle-tale!”

“Nu-uh. As the oldest, I can do whatever the hell I want.”

And does he tell on Timmy? You bet your ass he does.

It’s nice when Alfred can look at someone else in the family with extreme disappointment.

Tim comes by the Manor the day Alfred video chats him, shuffles down to the Cave behind the butler and absolutely sticks his tongue out at Dick’s smarmy grin.

His apartment is a literal mess and Dick can’t be bothered to do much more than flop on the overstuffed couch with a groan.

Still in his uni from the day shift, he’s too bruised and battered and tired to even think of suiting up for the night. He’s been running himself ragged for two months, the day and night shifts blending together along with the usual bullshit of daily human life, and he desperately needs a night of terrible television, junk food, and snuggles.

Like he’d been reading the room, Timmy walks out of his bathroom, towel around his shoulder and hair just this side of damp.

“Hey, you made it home in one piece.” Tim’s long fingers in his hair literally pulls a noise out of Dick he can’t ever remember making.

“Yeah, I drove down because you looked like death warmed over when we talked last weekend. Luckily for you I went grocery shopping, did a few loads of your laundry, and cleaned up a little so you don’t have to worry about housework.”

“I love you. Have I told you that recently? Like, so, so much–” is muffled by the couch cushions, but he thinks Tim can probably still make it all out.

“Mmhm, I know,” and the gentle scratching against his scalp doesn’t stop, and Dick goes a little boneless with it. “I even brought my Roku so we can binge watch terrible television while you eat something more substantial than cereal. Alfred is going to be so proud of you.”

A pat to his head and Timmy is off, slinging his towel on the rack, turning on the shower again to make sure it’s nice and hot for all those bruises and contusions.

He’s no-nonsense about picking up his previous mentor and best friend, literally stripping him down and manhandling him in the shower after a low whistle at the span of blue/black across Dick’s chest and ribs, the scrapes across his back and shoulders.

The first aid kit tackle box makes an appearance because Tim plans for literally everything ever, and Dick finds himself sitting on his sink wearily while his injuries are meticulously treated.

He knows he eats something super tasty with meat and vegetables, his belly full, before Tim pulls him down on the couch and lets Dick lay against his chest, between his legs to sleepily float while watching God-awful B-movies.

It’s the most relaxing weekend he’s had in a while.

Dami sneers at Tim, arms crossed over his chest, the expression on his face begging Tim to try to deny it.

The third Robin however, is looking over at Dick with horror that the big secret is finally out in the open.

“Th-that isn’t– it’s not–” Tim fumbles desperately, “he’s been my big brother forever, that’s it!”

“Tt. Grayson may be painfully oblivious, Drake, but the rest of us are detectives. Even Todd knows of your feelings and he rarely even comes to the Manor!”

Tim’s soul literally leaves his body.

Dick blinks, completely taken back, mouth open without anything coming out.

Damian raises his eyes skyward and prays for patients dealing with these two. “What I am saying,” he tries, he really is trying here, “is that you two must cease and desist this pointless–” vague hand wave– “pining for one another. It is getting to the point of absurdity. I demand you two either discuss your need for one another or take this ridiculous mooning elsewhere. The rooftops of Gotham is no place for this,” another hand wave, “utter nonsense.”

Tim’s mouth goes dry, subtly backing away to be closer to the Ducati’s waiting for tonight’s ride. He’s pretty sure he has enough energy left in his shaky knees to hop on one and be the fuck out of the Cave before his face literally bursts into flames.

But, well. Dick was Batman.

His strategic retreat is stomped into the ground by acrobatic leaps and a very well done joint lock to keep him from immediately taking off.

Dami scoffs at them on his way up the winding staircase. He stops Pennyworth on the way and turns the butler to return back into the Manor proper, citing those two needed time to figure themselves out.

After several weeks under deep cover, Nightwing wearily hacks into Titan’s Tower and makes his way through the maze of hallways until he hits a hidden panel.

Tim is sleeping on his desk, only one empty coffee mug at his workstation. Even dead in his boots, Nightwing can take a second just to look, just to sigh, just to enjoy how much every inch of this boy is his.

He journeys down the hall, flips the bed covers up, carries his sleeping partner in and tucks the blankets around him, a quickly there kiss to the top of messy, too-long hair. A shower in Tim’s perch literally makes everything in life a little less awful and exhausting, not enough for him to do much more than crawl in bed against Tim’s warm body and snuggle up close.

He gets breakfast in bed and blue-violet eyes looking at him with fondness rather than awe, gets coffee flavored kisses and a slow-paced back rub that continues down to his thighs and calves and feet. Later, he gets a date night in a nice restaurant and a sweet San Fran club scene for dessert. He gets to let loose and hold Tim’s body against him, to play them both until the gazes are intense and the low key UST between them makes other people on the dance floor give them space.

Witty banter is a primary weapon against megalomaniacal bad guys of any flavor. For some former Robins, it’s an art form.

Over the years, they’ve cultivated their dip and distraction to bounce off one another like a well-oiled vigilante machine.

It should have been a standard take-down because it’s not one of their more dangerous, deadly villains. It’s not one of the Rogue Gallery baddies. It’s not one of the mobster families, not one of the super powered groups come to call. It’s not someone with hordes of thugs and deadly science waiting to take them down.

It’s a simple B&E, just Nightwing talking it up to draw gunfire while Red Robin is creeping up from behind to get the last laugh.

It’s one of a thousand times they’ve done this.

It’s a guaranteed win.

It’s the last hour of patrol before they get to go back to Red’s penthouse and snuggle together, eat and show, probably have some fantastic sex before passing out.

The .45 shell, however, cuts through the suit, between armored plates.

Going after the running baddies is automatic, taking them down, zip ties, and viola. They’re ready for GCPD to pick-up, all kinds of gift-wrapped.

When N finally realizes Red isn’t with him, isn’t answering comms, isn’t waiting for him on the roof, he goes back inside. He hits up B for a ride in the big car in case he missed –

– anything.

The pool of blood around Red Robin is more than he can afford to lose, and Nightwing has been in the vigilante life for over twenty years, has been official with Red Robin for a little over two, has personal experience on how his Baby Bird can take a mostly-fatal beating and still keep moving. He’s seen Tim come close with the Clench, with horrifying injuries, with any of the many bad guys they fight holding him hostage.

Nightwing has seen him perform literal miracles.

And tells him so the entire time he’s got Red Robin up in his arms, carrying him through Gotham’s skyline to the waiting car, falling in with Red on his lap when the familiar hatch slides back, the tourniquet already applied before he even shot a grapple. The struggling pulse is enough of a concern to get it together.

And even if they all gather to strip off the suit, and now it’s on to get vitals back to an acceptable range. Even if the Bats cry overhead, even if the equipment is top notch in the Cave, even if Dick is still talking the whole time, and Alfred is keeping a cool head and Bruce is gripping a hand and Damian is standing at the ready to hand implements and Cass is biting her thumbnail while she hovers and Steph is moving from empty space to empty space around the gurney –

The consistent beep of the flatline cuts through it all.

The Titans make it for the service.

Each of them make a point to hug Dick for as long as possible, holding on tightly.

Bruce is silent and stoic, a little boy again when he has to watch someone else he loves being lowered into the cold, unforgiving ground. Another Robin taking a piece of his heart to the afterlife.

Steph is red-eyed, a ghost moving around to individual circles, listening to stories she might not have known.

Cass grips the coffin with bruised knuckles, her whole body wound tight as a string ready to snap. She doesn’t move the entire service, is already convinced leaving him to his own devices caused this whole thing. She doesn’t blame the thugs or Dick or Bruce. She blames the boy that never understood how much it all means.

Duke Thomas is back in Gotham, taking leave from the Outsiders to be here for the family that took him in after the Joker drove his parents insane. He hovers in the doorway to welcome mourners, direct them toward the book to sign-in, talks about Tim Drake with regular humans and other metas in disguise, accepts condolences with his throat tight and his eyes watery. He makes sure Dick has a bottle of water after the first hour, pats Damian’s shoulder, grips Bruce’s arm, weaves an arm around Cassandra’s back to give her a squeeze, obediently looks at the old pictures of Tim on Steph’s photo roll when she’s overcome and has to see that smile again.

In the back, Jason Todd wears dark shades and a clean black suit. Roy Harper is beside him, a hand on the broad back to keep him grounded, to keep the Pit rage at bay. If anyone knows how far Tim and Jason had come over the years, it’s the former Red Arrow. If anyone knows how much agony Jason is in at this moment, at another fallen brother, another Robin gone, if anyone had held the Red Hood while he screamed and cried and broke the utter fuck down, it’s Roy Harper.

Damian Wayne hovers right by Grayson’s side, silently supporting his first Batman, his first brother. Whenever Dick’s eyes start going hazy, glazing over, Damian gently grips a wrist to bring him back, allows fingers to lace through his own and tolerates the tight squeeze that obviously assists in grounding the oldest Robin.

(Later when the night is crowding grief-stricken Wayne Manor, Damian will be the one to open Grayson’s bedroom door, lift the covers to crawl in behind him, to wind both arms tightly. He will be the one to take the onslaught of grief, to be soaked in tears and snot, to listen to the broken, hoarse voice, to make soothing hums that ultimately mean nothing.)

Alfred Pennyworth quietly talks with the funeral director about the arrangements. Of course Master Timothy would want to be laid to rest with his parents, and the family appreciates all the support and ease of process as the deceased was an important part of the Wayne family.

When he gets a phone call, he firmly verifies the name on the tombstone is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne Grayson.

Exactly four days after the service, the Flash is staring at him helplessly, gripping Nightwing’s arm tight, “please, please, Dick, don’t do this. You can’t think this is the answer!”

He can barely hear Wally with the absolute destruction going on around them, the machine they’d inadvertently stumbled upon (which is a lie, Nightwing had been looking for it and the Flash basically caught him red handed).

“You know you aren’t going to be able to stop me.” Standing between the glowing portal and Wally, debris from overhead crashing down on them at intervals, Nightwing is at his peak stubborn, “no matter how fast you are.”

“You don’t understand what’s going to happen,” Wally yells desperately as the vacuum starts pulling at Nightwing’s other arm, pulling him into–

–the Speed Force.

“You don’t have the lightning, Dick, you won’t be able to get yourself out, and I won’t have any way of tracking you!”

The small smirk as the machine’s panel starts going haywire, lights blinking and readings off the charts, makes Wally’s heart clench hard in his chest, makes him try to dig in his heels, makes his stomach tremble.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve already done this, Wally. And I’ll do it as many times as it takes until I change everything.”

The pellet Nightwing palmed before the Flash grabbed his hand goes off the same time the machine hits the highest ratings and a low boom is followed up with an intense swirling suction, pulling the heroes closer to the portal’s surface.

The light grenade goes off without a hitch and the Flash has no choice but to let Nightwing go.

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows.

#dicktimweek2021 #dicktim #dick grayson #tim drake #sad times #time loop #winter writes #my ficlet

89 notes · View notes

huihuiheart · 4 years

Text

Kinktober D11: Limitless - Wonwoo

Pairing: Wonwoo x Female Reader - Friends to Lovers/Mutual Pinning

Warnings: Overstimulation, mild dom and sub themes, kinda playfully competitive? should this even be a warning?, oral (f! receiving), fingering, mentions of partying and being drunk, a little angst?, cursing, floor sex?,

Word Count: 1,547

Tag List: @hyunsungcore

How your boredom had gotten desperate enough to lead to truth or dare you weren’t sure. You prayed that it would at least lead to something more interesting happening though, especially when the more scandalous topics started to make an appearance. You had your eyes set on Wonwoo if something were to happen too. It is no secret among the group that you found him the most attractive in that way, even suggesting that you two date if you both were so attracted to each other. Honestly, neither of you was opposed to the idea, it was simply that if things didn’t end on the best of terms the whole situation might end up awkward. So things stayed as they were, you both constantly joking around about the day when one of you would actually ask the other out on a date instead of pushing both your feelings off any longer. Times like these though sprouted feelings of another kind, evoking a craving to have his honeyed skin against yours behind closed doors completely enveloped in each other. Your attention snapping away from Wonwoo when it’s your turn to be asked something.

“So Y/N...truth or dare?” Junhui questions and from the grin playing on his face you know that no matter your choice it’ll likely be something dirty that comes out of his mouth next.

“Hm since I’ve done quite a few dares, let’s go with truth.” You respond casually leaning back on your palms from your seat on the floor, it’s not like your sex life was a huge secret from most of the boys anyways. You’d been drunk and partying around them enough times that it would have slipped one way or another.

“Okay. What’s the highest number of times you can cum in one go before you have to tap out?... I’m gonna guess two.” Junhui smirks thinking he put you on the spot with that question and that he’ll get something to tease you about.

You roll your eyes and scoff, “Please Junhui. I’ve never found my limit, but the most someone has given me at this point is four. Then he was done.”

You feel smug as a chorus of ‘Oos’ sound through the boys, feeling almost as if you defeated Junhui at his own game. Though little did you know that he already had a plan brewing, one that involved using your weakness against you...Wonwoo. The game flowed as usual until it got later.

“Alright, guys, last one. Wonwoo truth or dare?” Junhui asks, turning to the man holding your attention.

“Let’s end on something entertaining.....give me a dare.” Wonwoo shrugs, licking his lips and waiting for whatever the older could conjure up.

“I dare you to try and figure out Y/N’s limit when it comes to orgasms.” Junhui smirks looking between you two as your jaw drops, Wonwoo’s eyes practically undressing you already, “Don’t worry we’ll leave you two be now though....have fun.”

Junhui gives you a cheeky wink as he ushers the other guys out, the rowdy bunch jesting and laughing about the last dare. Everyone knowing Junhui had done it to get back at you, but that you two wouldn’t have any qualms about it with your feelings for each other. Especially not when you had both been eye-fucking practically the entire game. Wonwoo turning to you as you both hear the door clicking shut.

“So?..... You actually want to?” Wonwoo cautiously questions watching you closely for your reaction.

You roll your eyes with a playful smile as you crawl a little closer, not intending to be seductive, but having that effect as Wonwoo gets a view of your chest while you do.

“You already know the answer to that Woo...I’m just not sure if it’s a good idea. You and I both know that if we go down that road there’s not gonna be any coming back. We’re practically addicted to each other as is and that’s with us trying to avoid it.” You sigh plopping back down onto your ass beside him, “It’d be a fucking fantastic experience though, we’ve got the chemistry.”

Wonwoo huffs out a chuckle as he thinks about what you said before finally looking you in the eyes, “You know what.....screw it. I’m done dancing around this any longer.”

The next moment his lips are on yours scorching with passion and lust as your lips move in blissful harmony. No longer having to wait on your desire as you both decided to finally take what you’d both desperately wanted for nearly an eternity now. Wonwoo shifting to nestle between the plush of your thighs, arms working to gently lay you back onto the rug you’d been sitting on.

“I know it’s not the most romantic, but I figured we’ve both waited long enough at this point that it shouldn’t much matter.” Wonwoo’s chest rumbles as he laughs breathlessly, littering little lingering kisses in a trail down your throat only to become fed up when your shirt stops his progress. You raise up onto your elbows to help him slip the material off, your bra only lasting a second longer.

“You’re right it doesn’t.....though I do believe you had a little dare to complete tonight as well.” You muse though you couldn’t care less, as long as you were finally getting him tonight you’d be content with whatever.

“Oh don’t think I forgot about that for a fucking second love...I’m gonna put you through quite a bit tonight. There’s so much I want to try after all.” Wonwoo smirks nipping at your pert nipple, teeth tugging on it slightly before kissing over to do the same to the other one, humming softly against your breasts, “ What would you like first though? My mouth? Or my fingers?”

“Mm well your mouth has seemed rather nice everywhere else, why don’t you show me what it can do down there?” You purr seductively, your hips lifting to help his hands work your shorts and panties off. Wonwoo nudging your thighs open to finally get eyes on your glistening center, slipping his own shirt off before laying down on his front between your legs to get a closer look. His fingertips dance up your thighs until they reach between them, thumbs spreading your lower lips to him, blowing lightly against your core, and watching as you clench around nothing.

“Look at that pretty pink pussy, so eager for me. Were you this desperate for the man who could only make you cum four times love?” Wonwoo inquires tongue rolling out to lay a long lick up through your folds as his fingers keep them spread for him, ending with a quick flick of the tip of it over your clit.

“F-Fuck no! I wanted to think of you while he fucked me, but the whole time I knew you’d be able to do so much better.” You mewl, back arching a little as you try to press your hips towards him with little success.

“Damn right I will love...I’m going to treat you like you fucking deserve.” Wonwoo’s growling against your entrance before he delves in with fervor. Content enough with your words to try and send your hurtling towards your climax as quickly as he can. Getting exactly what he was hoping to achieve as he has to pin your wiggling hips to keep you from squirming away from the pleasure he was selflessly giving, one particularly hard suck to your clit being what finally caused the cord to snap, blinding you with waves of searing hot pleasure tingling through your nerves in a rush. Wonwoo eases you down through it by slowly moving his pace to gently laps, before he slowly builds the speed again watching you closely for any signs that he was moving too quickly. His actions easing you through the slight sting of overstimulation and into bubbling bliss once again. Kissing up to your clit to ease a finger in, gracing you with something more despite the fact that his movements were somewhat languid even upon adding a second finger. His attention is still on your clit in his mouth, at least until he curls his fingers against that spot that has your pussy clenching around him a particularly loud cry of his name leaving your mouth. Him having a newfound vigor once he knows what makes you feel especially good, his pace relentless against that spot, sending a new splattering of spots dancing across your vision with each curl of them. Your nails find purchase on his shoulders as you grip them tightly to ground yourself, thighs trembling around his head. Until you're crashing over the edge again, surrounded in a cloudy haze due to the intensity. Blinking back to reality you watch Wonwoo suck each finger clean of your juices, before working on his pants the material getting far too restricting by now.

Panting you watch with hooded eyes licking your lips, “Can’t you just fuck me now...or are you afraid you’ll cum before you can get two out of me?”

Wonwoo chuckles a little knowing your teasing is playful, before returning it as he crawls over your form leaving a small peck to your lips nipping at the bottom with a low growl.

“Oh, love....we’re just getting started.”

#kinktober #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #wonwoo oneshot #wonwoo smut

265 notes · View notes

ificanthaveu · 4 years

Text

Broadway Baby || Shawn Mendes

Description: You have known Shawn Mendes for nine years. And he has been a pain in your ass the entire time. NYC isn’t big enough for the two of you, and your hometown certainly isn’t either. (aka broadway!Shawn)

A/N: I thought of this au out of nowhere and I was like wait a minute....that could be really good. SO here we are! And I think it is pretty good! And yes the Jordan I mention a few times is Jordan Fischer. I am a whore for that man. ALSO just a disclaimer: I know absolutely nothing about the technicality or broadway or new york or anything so plz just pretend thank you

Word Count: 7.6k

Maybe going to your high school’s five-year reunion at some dive bar two hours away from where you currently lived and down the street from your old high school could have been the worst place to be on a Saturday night in May.

You whisked the wine in your glass around as you watched it arch up the glass, threatening to spill out with each turn. The light above you flickered every few moments, and you couldn’t tell if the reason for your forming headache was the wine or the light or the fact that you were at your reunion. Or maybe all three.

You leaned against a table with two people from your homeroom, both of them going on and on about their current fifth year of college they were finishing up. One was in a sorority and the other was the president of his frat. You could’ve seen that coming from your freshman year of high school.

You occasionally chimed in every few moments just to look interested because you really didn’t have anyone else to talk to. You’d gotten here just a little too early since you had to take the drive and overestimated how long it actually took. Everyone who was eager for the reunion was here. Which meant everyone you did not want to see.

Your friends planned on coming later, and in reality, you should have just stopped at their house before coming but last minute decided against it. You didn’t really see your high school friends as often as you once thought you would. But life got in the way. While everyone else tended to stay in the small town, you were one of the few who made it out to New York City just two hours away. You had a great job, you bought a house and had a dog. It couldn’t get much better for you.

So, why you thought you would want to relive your high school days for a night? You still don’t know what you were thinking.

“[Y/N]?” Eli said from next to you as you blinked a few times before looking at him.

“How’s the big city?” He said with his smile that actually was too white.

“Good! Really good!” You said with a smile before you took a sip, hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions.

“Do you ever run into Shawn?” Kelly asked from the other side of you.

The name itself sent shivers down your spine. Not good ones.

“Nope,” you said with a pop in your “p” as you downed your glass.

“You guys were so close in high school,” Eli said.

You held back a laugh as you glanced back over at him, “No, we weren’t.”

“Well you were the leads in all the musicals together,” Eli replied.

“That means we were forced to act like we liked each other onstage. We were good actors. That’s why we were the leads,” you tried to say as casually as possible without making it obvious that your blood was boiling.

“Could have fooled me,” Kelly taunted as she sipped at her drink.

You stifled an eye roll as you thought about what the best time would be to sneak away and get more wine.

“Speak of the devil,” Eli said as you followed his eyes across the room.

Your eyes briefly met with Shawn’s as he sauntered into the bar with more confidence than he should be allowed to have.

You heard Kelly sigh from next to you as she rested her head on her hand.

You could throw up.

By the time you looked up again, he was walking right towards you.

So, now was the right time to get another glass.

You turned around and waved the bartender down for some wine and then thought maybe two glasses was a better idea but didn’t want to look as trashy as you felt right now being in the same room as Shawn again.

By the time you turned around with your wine, Shawn was deep in conversation with Eli as Kelly lovingly listened in.

You took a quick scan of the room, praying there could be someone else you could talk to. Most of the people you really didn’t care for or barely remembered. You spotted a few football players you had known since Kindergarten and hadn’t seen in a while.

You were about to cross the room to them when you heard Eli say, “[Y/N]’s right here.”

Shawn looked up and smirked as his eyes met yours. There goes your escape.

You smiled sweetly as you made your way back in between Eli and Kelly and a comfortable distance from Shawn.

“Hi, Shawn.”

“[Y/N], good to see you,” he said, the damn smirk not leaving his face.

“You too,” you mumbled from the rim of your glass.

“Heard you’re over at Samson Management now? You know Jordan?”

You nodded your head and leaned on the table again, “Yeah, I work with Jordan pretty often. He’s fantastic.”

Shawn looked over to Kelly, turning on his charm as he said, “Jordan’s the lead right now in the musical I’m in.”

It took every ounce of you to not roll your eyes and say something snarky.

“You mean the musical you’re an understudy for?”

It didn’t work.

Shawn cocked an eyebrow at you and his smile faltered as you foiled his face he was putting up for everyone.

“Yes, [Y/N], that would be the one,” he said slowly.

“Mhm,” you mumbled.

“Anyway, I’m in Dear Evan Hansen, and Jordan plays Evan right now. We’re pretty good friends, and he’s managed by the company [Y/N] interns for,” he said simply.

“I’m not an intern,” you said calmly.

“You were.”

“When I was in college, now I’m a junior manager,” you said, your grip on your glass getting dangerously harder.

“Hm, whoops,” he said before taking a drink of his beer.

You could cut the tension with a knife as Eli and Kelly shared looks.

“Who are you managed by again, Shawn?” You asked.

If looks could kill, you’d be dead.

“I’m in between managers.”

“Isn’t that what people say when they were fired from a job? That they’re in-between jobs?” You said with a quiet laugh.

You could practically see the steam threatening to spill from Shawn’s ears.

“Things weren’t working out,” he said carefully.

“I’m going to go say hi to Andy,” Kelly said quietly as she backed away.

“Me too,” Eli said as he did the same.

You were in a staredown with Shawn as they both almost sprinted away.

“Want anything from the bar, [Y/N]? Or still nursing your third glass?” He taunted as he walked past you to the bar behind you.

“Not my third.”

“Sorry, second,” he said with a smile as he turned around.

You shook your head and bit your lip harshly.

“Just upset I’m spoiling your whole facade?” You said, leaning against the bar next to him. “A simple google search could have spoiled it anyway.”

“Sorry we’re not all perfect,” he said, not looking at you.

“Yeah, real bummer,” you said before pushing yourself off the bar and making your way across the room to the people you meant to see earlier.

Andy scooped you up into a big hug as you finally approached him, rocking you back and forth.

“Heard you were being snarky across the room?” He whispered in your ear before pulling away and giving you the same look he’d been giving to you since Kindergarten.

“Some things never change,” you said as you sat down next to him.

“No one really likes him anyway, just think they do because they think he might be famous one day,” he said.

“He won’t be,” you said. “We run in relatively the same circle with my office managing a lot of the people he performs with. He won’t go anywhere with that attitude.”

“Nothing’s changed,” he mumbled.

“Not at all.”

You watched Shawn sweet-talk one of the old cheerleaders from across the room, probably raving about his latest performance where he was a background character for one whole scene but making it sound so much better.

“I’m still shocked nothing ever happened between the two of you,” Andy suggested.

You shot your head to the side to look at him.

“I can’t be with him for more than a minute without a fight starting,” you reminded him.

“That tension, I’m telling you,” he said quietly.

“You are unbelievable,” you said through a laugh.

Before he could respond, Shawn was walking to the group you were currently in.

“Don’t be mean,” Andy warned.

“You know I can’t promise that,” you whispered back.

“Our own broadway baby!” One of the girls yelled as Shawn hugged one of the guys.

You scoffed as Andy shot you a warning look before waving at Shawn.

Shawn returned the wave and walked closer.

(ITALICS) Here we go again.

“Good to see you, man,” Shawn said as he shook his hand.

“You, too,” Andy said as sweet as ever.

“You still live around here?” Shawn asked.

“No, I actually live in Chicago now,” Andy said.

“That’s great,” Shawn said, being nicer than usual.

“Yeah, how’s the big city?” Andy returned the question.

“Really great,” Shawn said before taking a drink. “I keep pretty busy.”

“So I hear,” Andy said with a nod.

You took another drink as you watched the interaction between the two of them. Andy knew how much you didn’t like Shawn, but the two still always got along pretty well. While you were always the first person he greeted after the musical, Shawn was the second. You tried not to let it make your blood boil. But that’s just how Andy was. He loved everyone and everyone loved him.

“Hey, [Y/N], heard a bunch of people from Samson’s are coming to the show next week?” Shawn questioned.

“Yes, we are,” you said casually.

“We? As in you’re going?” Shawn pried.

“Well, I do work with Jordan fairly often, so yes, I will be going,” you said softly.

“Great,” he said through a toothy smile.

“Fantastic,” you said as you mirrored his look.

Before the conversation could turn bad, Shawn got distracted and walked away.

Andy let out a breath before taking a drink, “I have a feeling you don’t actually feel fantastic about it.”

“As long as I don’t see him, we’ll be just fine,” you said, leaning your elbow on the table.

“I feel like that’s jinxing yourself,” Andy said slowly.

“Well, I’ve said it over fifty times since we decided we were going, so this time would be no different. If it was jinxed, it was jinxed over a month ago,” you said, finishing your glass.

“I wish you luck,” he said.

“Thanks,” you said as you squeezed his arm before standing up to go to your friends who just walked in.

You could see Sophie eyeing Shawn from a mile away.

“Soph?” You questioned as she snapped out of it and looked at you. “What are you looking at?”

“I’m not saying that out loud,” she replied.

“Good idea,” you said back.

“You have to admit, he looks good,” she said simply.

“You know I would never admit that even if I did believe it.”

The few of you made your way around a table with a few other people you did the musicals with and talked about the great times you had as you had another glass of wine and started to feel it hit, along with everyone else.

You were laughing at someone’s story about a performance gone wrong before you realized Shawn was there. You couldn’t even tell when he got there but it wasn’t bothering you nearly as much as you thought it would.

When he wasn’t trying to impress everyone around him, he wasn’t bad at all to be around, but when his ego took over and all he wanted to do was make people think he was something he wasn’t, you wanted to kill him.

“Remember when [Y/N] bit Shawn’s lip?” Sophie reminded everyone.

Shawn threw his head back in laughter as you shook your head and looked down.

“I still have a scar!” Shawn yelled from across the table as he pointed at you.

“I’m sorry!” You yelled back through a laugh. “If you would’ve done the moves we practiced, it wouldn’t have happened!”

“You bit through his lip!” someone said.

“Not on purpose!” You said through a laugh.

Shawn shook his head as the group calmed down, “I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, believe it. The last thing I wanted to do was have to drive you to the emergency room on a Friday night,” you said.

“And you stayed with me the whole time,” he said as he rested his hand on his chest. “I’m touched.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you reminded him.

“I would never,” he said with a smirk.

“Someone do karaoke!” Someone else yelled as they pointed at two people getting off the stage.

Your eyes met Shawn’s from across the table as you both nodded and walked towards the stage, not even having to say the song which you found early on was both your default karaoke song. It was always a duet between the two of you at your cast parties.

Bruises by Train started playing as people turned and cheered to see the duo up on stage.

Shawn started singing the first verse as you bopped your head to the familiar tune.

You cut in with your part as you looked at him, and he looked back at you.

You felt like you were back on stage with him, playing the part and acting like you could kiss him when this was all said and done. He joined in with you for the chorus as the two of you stood fairly close, looking at each other as you belted the chorus.

You stood side by side for the next part, your shoulders brushing as you pointed at people as you sang “have you seen him?”

You casually changed “Johnny B” to “Andy T” as Andy hollered from the back of the bar and Shawn laughed through his half of the line.

You went back into the chorus as you looked at him again, spreading your arms and feeling like you were on the big stage all over again. You didn’t realize how much you missed it.

You sang the lines of the bridge softly as Shawn did the same, his eyes not leaving yours. You looked at Shawn in ways you hadn’t since the final night senior year, reminding everyone watching why the two of you were always the stars.

Before you could register it, the song was done and you were standing inches from Shawn as everyone cheered.

“Guess you still got it,” Shawn said with a small smile.

“Guess you do, too,” you said back, not even wanting to be snarky anymore.

You both walked back to your table, this time Shawn standing next to you as you laughed with your friends.

You glanced at the time just to see it was 1:00 am as people were leaving.

“Shit,” you mumbled as you went to call an Uber since you clearly couldn’t drive.

You looked around just to see that Sophie and your other friends had left. Andy was gone, too, and you were running out of options.

You planned on not really drinking and just driving back to the city tonight, but that was no longer an option.

“You good?” You heard from behind you.

You turned to see Shawn with his hands tucked in his pockets.

“I was going to drive back tonight,” you mumbled.

“That’s not happening anymore.”

“Yeah, I know,” you scoffed. “I’ll just call my parents.”

“Come on, I got a hotel. You can stay with me,” Shawn said as he started walking away.

“Aren’t you drunk?” You said as you watched him.

He turned around and shook his head, “I had one beer nearly six hours ago.”

“Oh, ok,” you said as you followed him to his car.

You drove in silence to a hotel a few blocks away, feeling your buzz quickly wear off.

You followed him in and up to his room. He let you in in front of him as you made your way to the bed in the corner and plopped down on it.

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said to the ceiling.

“I know,” he sighed as he sat on the edge of your bed. “We can pick up your car in the morning.”

“Thanks,” you said as you turned on your side to look at him.

“I’m sorry about before,” you said softly. “I got carried away with the digs.”

He nodded his head and leaned back so his head was next to yours, “I deserved it.”

You turned to look at him better, noticing his jawline as he spoke.

“I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing having to come to your reunion as an understudy,” he said softly.

“It’s still Broadway,” you reminded him. “You’re twenty-two. You have plenty of time to ace the lead.”

“Thanks,” he said as he also turned to look at you.

Your faces were dangerously close as you watched his eyes flick towards your lips and you inched closer.

Before you could rethink it, Shawn was on top of you and his tongue was in your mouth.

Every insult you had hurled before were forgotten as he deepened the kiss and moved you up the bed, his hand caressing your back underneath your shirt and getting dangerously close to your bra.

This was not something you ever did in the musicals.

You woke up the next morning, slightly startled as you looked around at your surroundings.

And then seeing the sleeping figure next to you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled as you remembered doing things you never imagined doing the night before.

You noticed you were wearing his shirt and tried not to groan as you slowly got out of the bed to find your clothes. You threw them back on and called an Uber as you slipped on your heels and tiptoed to the door, grabbing your purse and sneaking out.

You sat in the back of the Uber and cursed everything you could as you made your way to the bar again.

You hopped out of the car and into your own as you rested your head on your steering wheel and banged it against it a few times for good measure.

Your headache began to sink in as you prayed you wouldn’t have to throw up on your two-hour drive back home.

You finally started your car and put the nearest McDonalds into your maps before pulling out.

You could’ve screamed when Bruises played through your speakers.

—

Your pounding headache didn’t go away the next few days, and it certainly wasn’t just from your hangover.

Monday was a whole new obstacle as half your coworkers asked about your reunion and the other half wanted to talk about the show on Friday.

Your head was pounding, and your coffee wasn’t cutting it anymore. You rested your head in your hands for a moment to breathe before you went to grab lunch.

Your phone rang before you even had that moment.

“Yes?” You said simply.

“You have a visitor. He’ll be waiting in the commons,” the receptionist said before hanging up.

Your heart leaped into your throat before you tried to swallow it down. You took a shaky breath before grabbing your bag and walking downstairs, a little too terrified to see who was waiting for you downstairs.

Seeing Andy waiting there was the best thing to happen to you in the past week.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you walked up to him and gave him a quick hug.

“What are you doing here?” You asked with a smile.

“My flight leaves out of JFK in a few hours, so I thought we could grab lunch first,” he said as you began to walk out of the building.

“Perfect. The place next door is great,” you said as you felt the first joy you’d felt since Saturday night.

“I also have to ask you something,” he said slowly.

“Mhm,” you mumbled as you pushed the door open to the cafe, and he followed behind you.

“Where did you go Saturday night? After the reunion?”

Your heart went right back into your throat as you didn’t look at him and instead focused on the menu on the wall.

“Back here. I got back super late,” you said as you begged your voice not to falter.

“Really? Because I saw your car there Sunday morning,” he said.

You knew you couldn’t prolong it, so you finally looked at him as he looked at you with a blank stare and raised eyebrows.

“I went to Sophie’s,” you tried.

“Sophie left before I did,” he said quietly. “And she left with Eli.”

You didn’t respond and instead stepped up to order your usual. You could hear Andy sigh as you recited your order.

You stepped to the side and let him order before grabbing a table in a secluded corner.

He sat his number down on the table before sitting across from you and leaning forward on the table, giving you another look.

“We’ll do this again. Where did you go Saturday night?” He asked.

You sighed as your shoulders slumped.

“I stayed with Shawn,” you whispered. “He offered, and I didn’t have many other options.”

“I knew it,” he said in his typical, “I told you so” voice he’d been using on you for years.

“Don’t even say anything. I’m not proud of it,” you mumbled as they set your food in front of you.

“[Y/N], come on. You know I’d never say anything mean about it,” he reminded you.

“Yeah, yeah I know,” you said as you started to pick at your food. “No one knows.”

“So I’m guessing that means you did more than just sleep wherever he was staying?” He pried.

“If I don’t say it out loud, it never happened,” you said before taking a sip.

“Oh my God,” he mumbled.

“You said you wouldn’t say anything,” you groaned.

“I won’t. I won’t,” he said before he sighed. “I just want to say that I told you so, and I saw this coming from a mile away.”

“Ok, I get it,” you said through a laugh.

“I mean I literally said it probably hours before you did it,” he reminded you again.

“Yes, ok, anyway, when does your flight leave?” You said, trying to derail the conversation.

“4:00 pm, but anyway, who came on to who?” He continued.

“I’m not answering any questions,” you said, taking bites of your food as he thought of more questions to ask.

“Fine,” he sighed, finally eating.

“But he definitely came on to me.”

“I knew it.”

—

You kept busy the next week on your latest project, and you managed to forget about the past weekend...until Friday came up faster than expected.

You hated to admit it, but you bought a new outfit for the show, one that you know would make Shawn drool in the off chance you did see him.

During the day you were in and out of meetings, barely having time to even sit down in your office. When you finally had a chance, one of the interns leaned in.

“Ross was looking for you before, but he just told me to tell you that Jordan won’t be on tonight,” she said.

“What?” you said a little louder than planned.

“Yeah, I think he said he has strep throat,” she explained before walking away.

You took a deep breath and ran your hands through your hair.

This could’ve been your worst nightmare.

You took your time getting ready after work as the chances you would see Shawn increased with each passing moment in the past week.

You met your coworkers outside the venue an hour before the show and found Ross to grab your ticket.

“Someone told you right?” Ross said as he handed it to you.

“Yeah, Jordan’s out,” you said through a sigh.

“And that Shawn Mendes will be on,” he said as he looked at the altered program. “Know anything about him?”

“Well,” you paused and wondered if you should tell the truth or lie through your teeth. “I actually went to high school with him.”

Ross’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at you. “Tell me everything. I hear he’s looking for new management.”

You bit your tongue as your group walked into the theater and tried to think this through.

“He’s insanely talented. We starred in most of the musicals together, and he manages to have chemistry with anyone he’s onstage with, which I hope you’ll see tonight. He’s got a good heart, but I think it’s hard for him to show it sometimes. This is all he’s ever wanted to do, and he shows it in everything he does,” you explained as you found your seats.

“He sounds like a good guy,” Ross offered.

“Yeah,” you paused. “He is.”

“What musicals did the two of you do together?” He continued.

“Um, wow, we did The Last Five Years, High School Musical, Footloose and Hairspray,” you remembered.

“So why did he go and do this while you went into management?”

“He had the confidence I could never get,” you said as your voice shook just the slightest.

“You’re confident.”

“I wasn’t in high school,” you explained. “Shawn had enough for the two of us. Sure, I would’ve loved to do this,” you gestured to the stage. “But Shawn knew he was going to do this. There was a big difference.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he said with a nod. “And you settled for management.”

“I wouldn’t say settled. This is my dream job,” you said through a small laugh. “I wanted college and stability. I needed it. Shawn was always really good at being spontaneous which was definitely something I could’ve learned from.”

“You speak pretty highly of him,” Ross pointed out.

You paused for a moment and ran through the conversation you just had in your head. You didn’t realize how many nice things you had to say about him.

“Yeah,” you said before pausing. “He’s a really good guy. We didn’t always get off on the right foot, but when it came down to it, we made a good duo.”

“Well, if this show goes well, I just might have to have a conversation with him afterward. Care to join me? Introduce me to him?” Ross questioned as he looked at you.

You swallowed hard before nodding your head, “Of course.”

The lights dimmed before Ross could say anything more than “Great.”

You took a deep breath and released it slowly as Shawn walked on to the stage. You were nervous for him, you being the only one who knew the weight of this performance, what Samson Management could do for him.

You’d never even seen him perform except from the wings of a stage while you did a quick change or quickly rehearsed lines with someone in the stage crew. Before tonight, all you ever got were glimpses of the person he became when he walked on stage.

And he was amazing at it.

He had the whole crowd on the edge of their seats as he sang “Waving Through a Window.” You did everything in your power to make sure no one saw you wipe the tear escape your eye.

You never would’ve been able to tell that this was Shawn’s first time performing this part. He had the whole audience laughing when they needed to be laughing and crying when they needed to be crying. You felt your heart follow his journey as you saw Shawn genuinely thrive.

It was intermission before you knew it, and you took a moment in the bathroom to fix your makeup that may have ran down your cheek a little.

By the time you got back to your seat, Ross was jotting down quick notes.

“So, what do you think?” You asked.

“He really is something else,” he said with a big smile. “We definitely have to talk after.”

You couldn’t hide your smile as the lights dimmed again and the musical continued.

By the time the show was done, your mascara needed fixing again and your chest hurt. You ducked into the bathroom again before meeting Ross to introduce him to Shawn.

You showed your credentials to the stage manager as you walked ahead of Ross to find the door with Shawn’s name on it. You took a deep breath before knocking slightly and hearing a muffled “come in.”

You creaked the door open to watch Shawn turn around to see you.

“[Y/N],” he said just above a whisper as his face fell.

Before he could say anything else, you opened up the door more to show Ross with you. Shawn’s immediately put on a different face as he stood up.

“Shawn, this is Ross Thompson, senior manager at Samson Management. Ross, this is Shawn Mendes, Clinton’s own Broadway baby,” you said with a smile as the two shook hands before Shawn nervously stuffed his in his pockets and glanced over at you.

“You were amazing,” Ross started. “And we would love to meet with you sometime, over at Samson.”

“Really? That would be amazing,” Shawn said with a smile.

Ross handed him his card before saying, “Email me Monday morning about what times work best for you within this next week, and we’ll set up a time where the three of us can talk.” He said as he gestured at you, and you nodded your head.

“Thank you so much. I look forward to talking more,” Shawn said as he shook Ross’s hand again.

“We’ll see you then,” Ross said as the both of you turned toward the door.

“[Y/N]?” You heard him say as you both turned around. “Can I steal you for a minute?”

You swallowed hard before nodding over at Ross.

“I’ll meet you guys at Ellen’s,” you said with a soft smile before Ross waved goodbye and walked out.

You shut the door behind him before you leaned against it and looked at Shawn.

“I have about a million things to say, and I don’t know which one to start with,” he said a little too quickly.

“Yeah, I figured.”

“What did you say?” He paused. “That made him want to talk with me?”

“Well, he asked about you and was so excited to hear that we went to high school together, so I told him everything I could,” you said quietly.

“Which was?” He pried.

“Um,” you faltered. “I said that we starred in the musicals together…”

“And?” He cut you off.

“And that you’re amazing at what you do. That you were born to be doing this, and it shows when you walk onstage. That you have a good heart, but sometimes have a hard time showing it. That we didn’t always get off on the right foot, but at the end of it all, we made a really good duo,” you said, trying to look anywhere but his eyes that seemed to be piercing into yours.

“You mean that?”

You could hear the strain in his voice.

“Of course I do,” you said through an exhale. “Look at you, Shawn. You just walked out on that stage like you’ve been playing this role your whole life. You had that whole audience convinced you were the actual Evan Hansen when that person doesn’t even exist.”

A moment of silence surrounded the two of you. You stared just past Shawn at the table scattered with his things, focusing on an open foundation bottle instead of him.

“So you liked it?” He finally said.

“I loved it,” you said quietly. “I’ve never actually gotten to see perform from an audience before. It was breathtaking.”

“Thanks,” he said almost under his breath.

It went quiet again, and you uncomfortably switched from one foot to the other as the tension filled the room like so many times before. Except for all different reasons.

“So why’d you leave?” He finally asked as his hands flew up with frustration.

Your body slumped as you sighed and sat on the arm of the chair right next to the door.

“Please don’t do this, Shawn,” you begged as you looked at the floor.

“No, I’m doing this. Why did you leave? I’m not just some guy you met at a bar, [Y/N]. I thought you had a little more respect for me than that,” he said, the frustration in his voice evident.

“Because you’re you,” you started. “You’re a pain in my ass and have been for the past nine years. I’ve had to watch you captivate the stage with this natural flair that only you could pull off, and I never could. Seeing you on Saturday was like being on stage as a freshman as Gabriella all over again, and I was staring at Troy, who had the confidence of ten people, showing this whole world what he can do, and I can’t. I couldn’t just let myself live in whatever fake world we made up Saturday night just to regret it Sunday morning.”

“Why are you saying this? It’s been five years since we last sang together, but it felt like yesterday when I looked at you doing that note change you always did when we sang that song. Whenever I perform with you, I forget that you’re you. I forget that you hate my guts half the time and the other half of the time you’re tolerating it because you have to,” he said, frustration evident in his voice. “You can’t make up excuses anymore, [Y/N]. What happened Saturday was not some performance. We’re not in high school. And even if we were, you are still just as amazing as a performer as you think I am, but you’re still stuck in this mindset that you were just put there by default.”

“Do you know how hard it is to perform with you when everyone who encounters you falls in love with you?” You almost yelled as you stood up, and Shawn stepped back. “I had to, and still have to, work twice as hard as you to get half of the recognition you did. We were never equals. I didn’t hate you, Shawn. I could never hate you because of how you made me feel like I was everything when we were on stage together. I have tried every night for the past nine years to forget the way my stomach would flip when you sang to me, and right when I thought I could, I was right back to it because of that fucking reunion.”

“Then why did you leave?” He finally yelled. “I thought I had finally figured you out, finally figured out how I could get you to be mine, and by the time I woke up, you were gone and probably halfway to New York. Why won’t you just accept that there was always something here, but you were too scared to ever admit it because of what other people thought of me?”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have anything to say.

“I have been chasing after you for nine years, and I’m just starting to think that I just can’t do it anymore,” he said quietly as he sat down on the couch opposite of you with his hand on his forehead.

You watched the way he rubbed his forehead as he caught his breath, the way his body slumped as he let out everything he’d always wanted to say.

“When I woke up on Sunday, I couldn’t get out of my head that I was just there because I was convenient for the night. That I wasn’t what you actually wanted,” you said slowly. “I didn’t realize there was something more.”

He sighed and looked up at you.

“But by the time I got back here, I knew I shouldn’t have left. I made that mistake, and I’m sorry that you had to deal with the consequences of it. Whenever I’m with you, I just get caught back in this old mindset that you’re always going to be better than me, and that’s a real blow to the ego, but it’s all in my head,” you said.

He didn’t say anything as you finished your thoughts.

“That’s all I have left to say,” you said after a moment.

“Then I think you should go,” you said just above a whisper.

“Shawn…” you started.

“I’ve had enough for one night. Please just go.”

So you did.

—

The following week was just as painful as the one before as you awaited the meeting you would eventually have to sit through with just Ross and Shawn. The calendar notification popped up Monday morning, so you knew Shawn called him as soon as he possibly could to set this up. You had a brief meeting with Ross on Thursday morning, and Shawn was planned to join you shortly after.

You walked with Ross to one of the rooms on the first floor to go over some notes before meeting Shawn. He pulled up his laptop and let out a sigh.

“I need you to be honest with me about how you feel about Shawn,” Ross said.

“Ok,” you said carefully.

“Because I asked around and the things I’ve heard have been exactly 50/50. People either love him or hate him. I can’t afford to have a hated man on our team,” Ross explained. “So I need the real story.”

You took a deep breath and stared at your own computer screen before looking up at him.

“I have known Shawn since I was 14. The first time I met him was a chemistry read for High School Musical. I had heard about him. I had heard…not the greatest things about him. That he had a big ego and knew he was good and wasn’t afraid to flaunt it. So, I went into that chemistry read with this horrible idea of him in my head. And I held on to it for a lot longer than I’d like to admit. But every day I spent with him on the stage, that chipped away more and more,” you said.

“What I said on Friday, about him knowing this is what he was meant to do, is completely true. People often take that the wrong way. I took that the wrong way. I wasted years hating him when he was just passionate about what he did. Once you realize that, he is genuinely one of the most amazing performers you will ever work with and just as amazing of a person,” you finished.

Ross nodded his head as he leaned back in his chair, crossing an ankle over a knee as he bit the end of his pen.

“I trust you,” he said after a moment.

Before you could say anything else, Ross’s laptop dinged to notify him that Shawn was here.

“You want to go get him?” Ross offered.

You nodded your head and walked out of the room and down the long hallway to see Shawn waiting at the end of it by the receptionist’s desk.

“Shawn,” you said with a head nod towards the hallway.

He didn’t say anything and followed you down the hallway.

Before you went in, Shawn stopped a few feet away from the door. You turned around and looked at him.

“This is make or break for me,” he said.

“I know.”

“What do you think it’s going to be?” He asked.

You sighed and leaned against the wall.

“Despite what has happened, I have done everything I possibly can at this point. I believe in you, Shawn, and I’ve done everything I can to get Ross to feel that same way,” you explained.

“You mean that?”

“Every word.”

You didn’t allow him time to respond as you opened the door and let him in in front of you. His nerves seemed to evaporate away as he shook Ross’s hand and took a seat across from the two of you.

Ross sighed as he sat down before he said, “I’ll cut right to it.”

Shawn simply nodded his head.

“We would love for you to join our team,” he said.

You watched Shawn relax, and it took everything in you not to jump up.

“Thank you so much, sir. You won’t regret it,” Shawn said with a smile that could light up the entire city.

“I know,” Ross said with a head nod. “You’re lucky you have someone as great as [Y/N] in your life. She did a really good job of talking you up.”

Shawn looked at you as your eyes widened at Ross’s blatant statement.

“Yeah,” Shawn said, still looking at you. “I am.”

The meeting went relatively quickly as preliminary paperwork was filled out and the basics were gone over. The looks Shawn gave you didn’t go unnoticed as you explained the necessary policies.

“Well, Shawn, that’s all we have for you today,” Ross said as he stacked up some papers and set them on top of his laptop. “You’ll be working mostly with me and [Y/N], but for the majority of the time it’ll just be [Y/N],” he said as he gestured to you.

You nodded your head as Shawn looked at you again and nodded along.

“You have my number, but call this number if it’s during work hours,” you said as you handed him your card. “I check my email constantly, so you’ll also be able to reach me quickly there if I’m in a meeting.”

“Got it,” he said as he placed your card with the other papers stacked in his arms.

“We look forward to working with you,” Ross said as he gestured forward. “I’ll have [Y/N] walk you out,”

You and Shawn walked out the door and down the hallway towards the front door as tension surrounded you two again.

“Can I see you this weekend?” Shawn said quickly as you reached the front door.

Without saying anything, you pushed him out the front door, and you followed behind him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“No, no, just the receptionist is nosey,” you said with a head shake. “Ross doesn’t care.”

“Oh, ok.”

“Anyway…” you offered.

“Right, I just think we need to talk,” he said as he impatiently fiddled with his thumbs.

“What’s there left to say, Shawn?” You asked as you crossed your arms as an unexpected breeze blew by. “We both said what we needed to last weekend. I got you your management team. What else do you want?”

“I don’t just want you because of a management team,” Shawn said with hurt in his voice. “And I did not think you’d be the one I’d work with if they brought me on here.”

“We want to keep you with people you know-“

“That doesn’t matter right now. [Y/N], what I’m trying to say is I want to see you. I want to take you on a damn date because I’ve wanted to since I was 14 and heard you sing ‘Breaking Free,’” he said, sounding out of breath, rarely seeing him so vulnerable.

You felt the smile tug at your lips as you tried to keep a straight face.

“We do still have a lot to talk about,” you said.

“A shit ton, but it would be a lot easier to do that over a drink, and when I know you feel the same way I do about you.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile before you said, “Of course, I want to get a drink with you. As a date.”

“Thank, God,” he said as his body slumped and his breath left him.

“I told Ross about how I truly felt about you. That that big ego I thought you had was just passion for what you did, and I realize that now. And I’m sorry I couldn’t do it sooner,” you said before pausing. “You’re a good guy, Shawn,” you said simply as you looked up at him. “I don’t think I say that enough, and certainly not to your face.”

“Then say it again,” he said through a small smile.

“Never.”

He stepped forward, aiming to kiss you but you held your hand up before he did.

“I’m not going to kiss you outside my office, and I don’t kiss before the first date,” you said with a smirk.

He returned the look as he raised an eyebrow and leaned in to hug you.

You held on to him tightly as he gripped onto you the same way. You felt his lips graze over your ear.

“We’ve done a lot more than kiss before our first date.”

You pushed him off and walked towards the door, begging the blush to disappear from your face before you made it back to your office.

“See you tomorrow? Ed’s on fifth? Pick you up at 6?”

You turned around and looked at him as he started backing away.

“The Broadway bar? Really?”

“I have a brand,” he said with a shrug and his signature smirk.

You turned to go into the building before leaning out the door to look at him one last time.

“See you then, broadway baby.”

Reblog! Comment! Share! Send me LOVE

taglist (send me an ASK to be added!! )

@haute-shawn @havethetimeeofyourlifee @mendesficsxbombay @c25905 @fallinallincurls @feliciaceciliamariajacobsson

225 notes · View notes

not-a-christmas-tree · 4 years

Text

i watched the dallas theater company les mis and here are my observations part TWO

i recently watched a modern adaptation of les mis from 2014! i took hella notes bc les mis being set in modern day has a LOT MORE than you would think! i just posted my act one notes, so here are the ones from act two. enjoy! :D

ACT TWO

(Building The Barricade)

oh javert,,,you and your red beret-scarf combo

everyone shakes hands the same way?? they all like. half bro hug. young people ig 🤷‍♀️

oh on my own is gonna hurt me huh

éponine has her hands up when she goes to take the letter to cosette that’s an interesting take

jvj looks so done lmao “really bruh just give me the letter i’ll give it to cosette it’s FINE”

omg first time i’ve ever seen éponine not take the money after the letter!! that actually makes so much sense bc she doesn’t take marius’ money when he asks her to find cosette’s house either. that,,,yes that’s good

the modern era begs the question... why didn’t marius just ask for cosette’s number?? i’d assume it’s just a thing that jvj doesn’t allow her to have a phone bc The Cops, but. maybe marius and cosette are the straight version of cottagecore lesbians they just write letters for ~The Aesthetic~

(On My Own)

i was right on my own was gonna hurt me

first time i’ve ever seen an éponine disguise where she actually passes as a boy lmao

FINALLY A VERSION OF OMO WHERE ITS NOT JUST FORLORN SELF-CARESSING THANK YOU

surprisingly i have less notes here that’s fun i thought i’d have more

(Javert at the Barricades)

WOAHHHHH THEY DID NOT SKIMP ON BARRICADE SET PIECES THAT SHIT IS COOOOOL

oh the barricade scenes are already hitting too hard

cops are in riot gear cops. are in. riot gear.

oh the javert spy thing that also hits funny because obviously

gavroche is armed with a bat i love you son

FULL VERSION OF LITTLE PEOPLE AT THE BARRICADE AYEEEEE

(A Little Fall Of Rain)

wait hold on why is marius not,,,singing to éponine on “why have you come back here?” he’s like. scolding someone,,, huh??

oh enj goes to help marius with ép!! and he calls over who i assume would be joly i STAN

MARIUS CRIES AFTER ÉP DIES KILL MEEEE

(The First Attack)

i like how jvj does the second confrontation here. he looks less angry and more like,,,compassionate and that MAKES SENSE bc yk. he’s telling javert he’s wrong but he’s not doing it out of spite he’s doing it bc this guy NEEDS to know what he does as a cop and realize that being a cop isn’t just enforcing rules, and it never was just that.

i do love the exasperated “gO” from jvj that’s kinda great ngl

(Drink With Me)

i’m very sad that there won’t be any exr from these boys

v e r y sad here

i do see grantaire looking PRETTY sad though

bold of y’all to assume that the modern day amis would all be straight

okay i can tell that grantaire really is going hard on the Existential Singing like,,,sure he’s just standing there but like. damn bro

SO THERE A R E LADIES ON THE BARRICADE WHY TF ARENT THEY FIGHTING

BETTER SEE SOME CHANGE THERE

i just realized that the cockades are buttons that is the BEST

(Bring Him Home)

jvj actually looks kinda happy in BHH and tbh i kinda like it?? it’s only on the “he’s like the son i might have known” line but i like it

oh those vowels oh boy they TALL

(The Final Battle)

enjolras is for some reason, still angry...why...why bro....

the staging for gavroche’s death is INTERESTING bc he’s reaching up at the sniper on the tower. hm. i dont hate it

OH SOMEONE ON THE BARRICADE IS RECORDING I THINK!!! GOOD ADDITION!!

i can’t imagine how many blood packs they went through

oh enjolras’s death okay so. he’s in a like. No Man’s Land almost, and the riot cops come in after him. it’s an interesting take because it almost mirrors the scene in the book, except obvs grantaire isn’t here. they also have an added scene after he dies where cops are checking out and using radios that is. that is EERIE.

jvj walks over to enjolras’s body 🥺

HE ALSO FUCKIN S C R E A M S WHEN HE SEES MARIUS ON THE GROUND GODDAMN MAN O U C H

thenardier steals combeferre’s glasses wow thanks for that added pain

thenardier and jvj have a mini fight oh that’s kinda cool hm

(Javert’s Soliliquy)

javert opens his soliloquy with some SPICY SADNESS OH B O Y he sounds broken already!! start strong!!

emotions go broken - anger - confusion? - mAJOR confusion - hopelessness

javert can FLY! no legit he’s on ropes

(Turning)

turning is. turning is almost a funeral.

OH THEYRE N U N S !

nuns are visiting the barricade 🥺

OH DAMN “what’s the use of praying if there’s nobody who hears?” THAT CERTAINLY HAS WEIGHT NOW THAT THEY ARE N U N S

it has just occurred to me that people have been dead on the floor for like. a solid five minutes

(Empty Chairs At Empty Tables)

“now my friends. are dead. and gone” he pauses like he’s realizing it just then oh OUCHIE

wait is marius,,,at the barricades? is he legit singing to his friends dead bodies? oh shit oh NO

OH N O OH NONONO THIS IS WORSE

THE BARRICADE BOYS RISE UP FROM THE FLOOR OH N O OUCH OUCH

they group up and salute him and wALK OFF NO OWWWW

*cosette and marius kiss* jvj: *COUGH COUGH*

marius and valjean’s lil conversation is interesting in the way valjean seems to ask marius “who am i?” rather than ask himself. he phrases it in a way that makes me think he’s like. quizzing marius lmao

(The Wedding)

omg i think baby cosette and éponine are flower girls 🥺🥺

“go away thenardier” *madame mouths ‘dammit!’*

thenardier your boat shoes hurt me

madame: “get up! get up!” thenardier: “stop—STOP IT!”

TWO GUYS ARE DANCING TOGETHER AND WAVE AT THENARDIER ON “this ones a queer, but what can you do”

yeah i think i found my new favorite thenardiers thank you dallas theater company

fantine sits on the bench when cosette comes by, cosette sits on bench next to her, and fantine tries to touch her but can’t 🥺

jvj just gave a hand-over-heart head nod to cosette but fantine gave it back i,,,ouch

ENJOLRAS AND GAVROCHE ARE WITH FANTINE AND ÉPONINE FOR JVJ’S DEATH

the chain gang is in the epilogue i repeat the cHAIN GANG IS IN THE EPILOGUE

the orchestra rests on the last “say do you hear the distant drums” and that was the coolest thing i’ve ever heard

that final harmony is MONEYYYY and i want to cry

OVERALL NOTES:

this javert has the most interesting interpretation because up until his FINAL SCENE he is the stone cold police officer, and he plays it SO WELL. like i have never been truly angry at a javert up until this guy, and whether that was because it was modern and resonates A LOT in 2020 or he just looks like a cop i want to punch, I DON’T KNOW but he plays it SO WELL and i love it so much!!

these thenardiers are the fucking BEST NGL they are the perfect mix of funny and cruel. madame t is also funny as HELL and i wish i had her talent lmao

i said it before but the police costumes in this show are. woosh. kudos to the costumer i took one look at those guys and was like “haha, no!.” vaguely related to that, i think this was the first time i nearly cried at Look Down like. the first song at the show, simply because of the convict getting the SHIT beat out of him on the floor. that hurt me and i hate that it is completely accurate to what happens in prisons today.

lovely ladies was,,,a LOT and tbh, i feel like it didn’t need to be. obviously it does show how horrible it is for sex workers, but that is why the music is there. the music and lyrics is there to tell what you don’t show visually. (though i do love the male prostitute lmao he took no shit)

i also said this before but the fact that there wasn’t bigger of a relationship between enjolras and grantaire kind of annoys me simply because they are revolutionaries in the present day. you can’t tell me that ALL OF THEM WERE STRAIGHT. with how many people i know now that identify under the queer and trans umbrella, and also how queer they are (to me) in the brick, the absence of any exr in a modern interpretation hurts a little.

in conclusion, this show was fucking FANTASTIC and even though i’m six years late, it still resonates hard given the time we live in today. i think i nearly screamed when i saw the cops in riot gear on the barricade because that is LITERALLY HAPPENING RIGHT NOW. this just reminds me how timeless the story of les mis is because you had to change LITERALLY NOTHING from the story to make it make sense in the modern age, and that is really the lesson you should learn from les mis; these things happen everywhere, and they need to be fixed.

thank you for listening to my rambling, i am sure i forgot something because there was just so damn much but i hope you enjoyed otherwise! not-a christmas-tree out! :)

#les mis #les miserables #les amis #les amis de l'abc #dallas theater company #jean valjean #javert #fantine #cosette #marius #enjolras #grantaire

62 notes · View notes

everydayeveryday · 3 years

Text

How to find your One True Love by Bo Sanchez

“Never make decisions when you’re discouraged. Make decisions only when you feel about yourself.”

“It takes time to discover your happiness. What may give you so much happiness later may, in the short-term, give you misery. So discern well.”

“We think that God’s will is found out there, somewhere in the stars. That’s not true. God’s will is found within.”

“Never choose in the presence of useless fears. First banish fear, and then choose out of love.”

“The success and the failure of your life is really up to you.”

“Marriage requires a lot of hard work, humility, patience, sacrificial love and the other stuff that we call character. And frankly, I feel that many singles don’t spend enough time growing their character.”

“You need to take a brutal inventory of your life, so you know what inner areas of your life you need to grow. And commit yourself to relentless spiritual and character growth.”

“Where there is no clarity of purpose, no great thing will be achieved.”

“I’ve long learned that God’s universe simple responds to what we want - clearly, repeatedly and passionately.”

“You don’t get the partner you deserve. You get the partner you think you deserve.”

“We teach people how to treat us - good or bad.”

“Unless he stands up against this manipulation, he’ll always feel trapped.”

“Unless they heal the wounds of the past, they will have a difficult time looking for and accepting a man in their lives.”

“Religious people can also be distancing themselves from potential spouses by insisting on rigid standards of religiosity that have nothing to do with real spirituality maturity.”

“We looked and stumbled upon different people, and though they made us happy, they didn’t make us complete. For in the end, only you can make me whole, and only I can make you whole. And because we were meant to be for each other, no matter what we did or where we went, fate would bring us together. And on that historic day, I saw you. And my life has never been the same.”

“The more guys you meet, the better the possibilities - not only for marriage, but also for getting to know yourself, getting out of your shell, getting to know how to relate to the opposite sex and getting to serve others.”

“The more choices you have, the better for you.”

“I repeat: Praying is important. Trusting God is essential.””“Single life is a fantastic time to really live! To grow. To become the best person you can ever become. To experience all that life has to offer. Learn new skill, develop your interests, serve the poor, build new business, sell stuff, organize groups, meet new friends and do stuff together.”

“Because you don’t want to fall in love with someone you can’t be friends with.”

“Don’t get stuck with your type, because “your type” usually comes from your weakness - not from your strengths.”

“Sometimes, your “type” is your homing instinct kicking in. That means you’re trying to recreate your childhood home, even if “home” was problematic or painful.”

“When you can’t confront, you’ll be attracted to someone who doesn’t want to be confronted. It works like magic. You’ll be attracted to selfish guys who may be hiding big problems in their lives.”

“My point is to be careful whom your heart is attracted to. Don’t immediately follow your heart, but open yourself to people who are not your type even if, at first, you’re not attracted to them.”

“Never play with the heart of a woman. Never, never, never. I’ve seen some guys who like treating women extra special, saying stuff like “I really like you”, and “I feel very happy when I’m with you.” But they have no intention of pursuing her. These guys are sick.”

“And even if you had a lousy first meeting (as many first meetings usually are), try to give him a second chance - because people are multi-faceted, and he may show another side of himself that you’ll like.”

“You accept that there are still risks of getting hurt when you like someone (even just on a friendship level) and he doesn’t invite you again, it will still hurt. But that’s life. Unless you open yourself to the possibility of rejection, you won’t also open your possibility of rich friendships. Through these experiences, you’re forced to mature to the point where your self-worth does not depend on whether someone likes you, but whether you like yourself and believe that God loves you unconditionally.”

“But sometimes, it’s not so much the number of men, but their own psychological readiness. Going to a new place and having a new experience creates psychological changes in the person - making her ready to accept marriage.”

“It takes a moment to experience infatuation but true love takes a lifetime.”

“Listen. You don’t need a magical first moment to meet your potential husband. The important things are mature character, financial responsibility, the ability to commit, compatible mission and values.”

“Because ladies, you don’t pursue men. You become attractive - and they pursue you.”

“The best sex appeal isn’t in your clothes but in your personality, your playfulness, your love for life.”

“When a woman has a positive outlook in life, she’s a magnet.”

“Fill your life with joy. Learn how to live life to the full. Besides, guys will have a hard time approaching you if they see you angry, depressed, moody, critical and negative. But happiness attracts.”

“It isn’t success that intimidates these good guys. It’s arrogance. When your success makes your head swell and you look down at everyone, you’re a major turnoff. It’s not your money or position. It’s the way you allowed money or position feed your ego. Be approachable. Listen to others. Acknowledge your ignorance outside your expertise. Ask help! Be soft and vulnerable. Be teachable. And most importantly, serve the small people. Be humble.”

“The key to being interesting is to be interested.”

“Have passions. Have beliefs/ Have preferences. From the very start, be your best self, but be yourself nonetheless.”

“A man will always hunger after what seems to be out of his reach. And he will value that which he sacrificed a lot to gain. And he will hold of little value to things he gained easily. In other words, a man is attracted to a woman who’s not looking for a man (in a desperate way). So allow him to pursue you.”

“Men get flattered that they’re being chased. But their eyes wander, looking for other prey hiding in the bushes far away.”

“You get what you settle for.”

“Run away from the guy who needs you to straighten out his life.”

“Emotional health means owning up to these weakness and working on them every day of our lives.”

“Mr. Right doesn’t have to be emotionally whole. (No one is.) Mr. Right just has to be on the journey - taking concrete steps to emotional health. If he’s not even in the journey, pass him up.”

“It’s not how much you earn, but how you multiply the savings of what you earn.”

“There are no guarantees in life, but if you marry someone who is morally upright today, the probability is high that he’ll morally upright tomorrow.”

“I’d choose a man whose faith is expressed in his morality rather than in his religiosity.”

“Because true love sets the beloved free. This is the one weakness that destroys friendships faster than others: The desire to control others.”

“Because who you are still speak more loudly than what you say.”

“He says that true love begins only when one falls out of love. Because true love has to be willed. There’s got to be a decision involved. While you’re in love with someone, love is involuntary. You just love. (The feeling of love falls on you like a brick from the sky hitting your head - wham! - and you don’t know what hit you.) But when you fall out of love, and you still make a choice to love, then that’s the beginning of true love. And that’s the basis of marriage. Not romantic love.”

#bosanchez #christianbooks #christian #book #books #bookworm #bookshelf #booklovers #bookquotes #bookquote

3 notes · View notes

dreamcatcherjiah · 4 years

Text

Part 7

💞Tight Hearts (Idol!Hoseok x Reader)

Plot: The red string of fate was visible when our grandparents were children. They would play around, following the strings from one person to their soulmate and laugh happily when these two people inevitably found each other. It was a reason for happiness. But little by little, people stopped seeing the threads. In bad times, it was dangerous, it was a liability, so people stopped seeing them to protect each other from harm. When I was born, nobody saw them anymore, they just felt their soulmate. Anxiety, happiness, sorrow, love, the hearts of the soulmates are one, feel the same things, but it is almost impossible to find your soulmate, now that the threads cannot be seen.

Tight Hearts Masterlist

The cars started slowing down and you knew then that the clam agreement you had reached with Hoseok was only a little respite of what a very long night was going to be. Realistically speaking, you couldn’t really expect anything else. Had your soulmate been someone else, the conversation you saw in the horizon was still going to take place, no matter how much you just wanted to run away to your house and hide on your bed, under a multitude of blankets. The rational part of you, even though still tired, kept telling you that you didn’t need to worry — Hoseok trusted you, you trusted him and everything would be alright if you just talked and reached a compromise. Easier said than done, you thought, as the car finally stopped and Hoseok jumped out of the backseat, still holding your hand.

The rest of the guys, along with Hyejin, had also arrived and most of them looked at your intertwined hands frowning, worry like you had never seen present in their eyes, and you had to control your face so that your distress wouldn’t show. Keeping your hand in Hoseok’s was keeping you grounded and the nerves going around in your body were actually making you vibrate with anticipation. What was going to happen to you now? Being on this situation meant that your life had changed the second you arrived at that concert venue and would most likely never go back to normal. What even was normal anymore? Your job seemed minuscule and unimportant, the dance studio even more so. How could you prepare yourself for all the changes that meeting Hoseok was going to bring to your life?

Coming next to you, Hyejin was short of stapling herself to you. She was anxious and couldn’t stop fixing her eyes in the seven tall men who were entering the building with you. The complex was top-notch, something you wouldn’t be able to afford on your salary, even if you worked over time for the rest of your life. It must be nice to live in a place like that, surrounded by trees and with a little park in the middle. So distracted were you that you didn’t notice the elevator doors closing until Jin and Taehyung were looking at you from the place where the sliding doors should have been.

You gave a start and jumped out of your skin. Where was your head today? On top of turning to mush when Hoseok touched you, now all of them were going to think that your mental abilities were nowhere near up to par on a normal day. Fantastic. Noticing how you had tensed up, Hoseok gave you a comforting nudge with his shoulder and smiled to you under his face mask. You could see his eyes forming little crescents and you couldn’t contain the little giggle that escaped your lips. Well, this could be much worse, at least Hoseok was understanding and caring — you already knew he was a kind soul as j-hope, but it was such a warm surprise to know that Hoseok was such a nice person too.

The elevator ride was quite awkward, but there was little you could do. Your relationship with BTS, if you could call it that, was new at best, and you doubted there was much you could say or do to make them trust you. As far as things go, you knew you could trust Hoseok, and if you were being honest with yourself, you knew you somehow could trust the rest of them. If only by extension of that the trust you gave Hoseok, and the fact that you knew how much they cared about each other.

There was a noise behind you and you twisted your neck to see Jungkook in a weird position, looking at you with those big doe eyes. He was holding his phone two breaths away from the floor, one of his legs lifted from the floor so that he didn’t lose his balance. He made such an endearing image, contorting his body so that he didn’t push you and Hoseok forward, that you couldn’t — and wouldn’t — contain your laugh when you looked at him in the eye. That laugh seemed to lighten the mood, with all of them noticing the maknae and Hyejin actually breaking into an adorable fit of giggles. This was obviously what all of you had needed to break the tension and allow you to relax just a bit. Taehyung and Jin shared a look and they turned their inquisitive gazes your way. Being the focus of someone’s attention would make you nervous in a normal day, but they were Kim Taehyung and Kim Seokjin, two of the seven members of your favourite band, whose music had helped you through pretty rough periods of your life. So, to say that you were feeling like an ant was a pretty big understatement.

“How are you feeling?” spoke Taehyung, “By the looks of it, you are not planning on letting go Hoseokie hyung any time soon. Are you feeling dizzy, uncomfortable…” his lips formed a light smirk and he raised his eyebrows provocatively at you, “like you want to jump him right here and right now, never mind that all of us are here?”

“Taehyung!” Jin and Hoseok shouted at the same time making you jump. You knew that his intentions were not to make you feel uncomfortable, and you weren’t. Bringing out courage you didn’t know you had, you squared your shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. If he wanted to play, you were ready to humour him.

“But that would be more violent for you than for us, don’t you think?” you asked with a smirk that could rival his, “Since we’d be… busy.”

The elevator was so silent you could have heard a pin drop, and you didn’t deviate your eyes from a dumbfounded Taehyung in case Hoseok’s expression would take away all that fake bravado. It was one thing to joke about it, and a very different one to joke about it next to the other person involved in those… activities. You shouldn’t have fret so much about it, because only a couple of seconds passed and you could hear how Jungkook was laughing behind you. Taehyung recovered fast from his shock and that squared little smile that you loved took over.

“I like her,” said Seokjin, smiling too, “I wouldn’t have had the guts to say what she just said in front of her soulmate!”

The doors of the elevator opened and the six of you went out, still laughing at the ridiculous of the situation. You met the rest of the group halfway to a fancy door, while one of the managers was punching the key code. Seokjin and Taehyung hung back next to you, laughing under their breaths. One by one, the huge committee filled into the apartment. You wouldn’t know what possessed you to be so distracted, not even noticing how Hoseok’s hand slipping from yours. The mood had lifted significantly in comparison to how you had felt in the morning. The air was clear and the giggles coming from inside the door made you feel relaxed for the first time in a while. Until they stopped.

You had just entered the apartment and were taking off your shoes when a heavy silence filled the room. Seven tall bodies were blocking your view, as well as Hyejin’s, so you weren’t sure exactly what had caused the complete stillness, you just knew the seven men were all looking forward, some shoeless, some with only one shoe on. You needn’t have wondered too much, as a female voice spoke, making you frown.

“Kim Taehyung! What is the meaning of this? Don’t you know how worried we’ve been?”

Looking at Taehyung, you saw how the tip of his ears started getting red, and you could just imagine how his face was morphing into his boxy smile, a bit ashamed at being caught red-handed.

“We have a good reason, mom,” he answered, and your head automatically snapped in his direction.

If Taehyung’s mother was here, and looking at the other six men in their frozen state, you could only assume the rest of the parents were also present.

The good mood you had been enjoying not ten minutes before flew out of the window. Crossing your fingers and praying that Hoseok’s parents had not gotten the memo, you got rid of your shoes and took Hyejin to the most secluded corner you could find, away from their parents’ view. How was it possible that you met your soulmate and were about to meet his parents on the same day?

The room was packed, the expensive furniture occupying only a small part of the living room, a huge couch facing an even bigger TV screen, with speakers taking its sides proudly. Everything about the room screamed money, from the biggest kitchen you had ever seen, to the art hanging from the wall, and you felt smaller than you had ever felt. What were you really doing here? You clearly didn’t belong anywhere near this fancy apartment and its inhabitants.

“… We were not sure what was happening either,” was saying Namjoon, as he moved towards a slim woman and, looping his arm through hers, moved her away from the entrance into the house, “it’s been a crazy day, that’s all, with the concert and Hoseok looking almost possessed. We’ll tell you everything, I promise.”

Following his lead, the other men also began moving towards their parents, hugging them and showing their affection towards them, even though they all looked ready to drop from the strain of the day. It looked as if everyone had forgotten Hyejin and you were even there at all. Would it be to difficult to go back to the door and disappear without any of them noticing?

“Today was weird, but this is a whole other level,” whispered Hyejin, sensing somehow that you were as tense as a bow string. When you laid your hand on her arm, you sensed tension there too. “We should go… the problem is, how are you going to contact them later?”

That isn’t out biggest problem right now, you thought. You just couldn’t leave. The pain would come back, searing through your bones again. That white blindness would encircle you again. The memory of the stadium was still so fresh in your memory that the mere recollection of it sent shivers down your spine, and not the good ones. There was already a tightness near your heart that terrified you, a coldness at the tip of your fingers that told you how what was coming next would be even more agonising that what you had already experiencing. What an exciting prospect that was.

The tightness in your chest started getting annoying and you noticed how a man was dragging Hoseok away from where Hyejin and you were effectively hiding. In a panic, you wondered what you should do. Running to his side and hugging him as your life depended on him would garner you no support. And there was also the fact that you hated looking like a lovelorn puppy at its master’s beck and call every time you touched. Would it look weird if you moved with your back to the wall closer to where he was? Definitely. He looked beyond tired, maybe he wasn’t feeling the pull as you were. Your experiment in the car had given the both of you a sort of immunity to each other, was that extending to the distance you could stand without the pain? Maybe…

“Ahg, Dad!” shouted Hoseok, white as a sheet, “if you’d let me explain! Separating me from Y/N hurts, so please, wait a second.”

If you thought you were uncomfortable before, being the centre of attention in a room so full of people made you dizzy and sick to your stomach. While Hoseok made his way toward you and took your hand, you were oblivious to how the uncomfortable and clammy feeling in your chest subsided, focused on how his father was eyeing you worriedly, how a woman behind him was busy whispering into what looked to be her daughter’s ear. His mother and sister, you realised. The rest of the boys and their parents were also looking at you, but their gazes had more curiosity in them than mistrust. One battle at a time, right now what was more important was that Hoseok, not minding anyone in the room, took you through the cluster of people towards the plush sofa you had seen before, taking a gaping Hyejin with you, and sat you both there. Once you were as comfortable as you could get in that kind of situation, he winked at you and held your hand a little tighter.

“Okay, now that we’re not in pain anymore, if anyone has a question, go ahead and ask.”

The room went from silent to chaos as Hoseok sat himself next to you, still holding your hand, and a small army of people descended upon the both of you, asking questions left and right, which you couldn’t understand. Rolling his eyes with subtlety – you doubted you would have noticed had you not been focusing on him the whole time – he put his head down, and expelled the air he had been keeping on his chest, getting ready for a long conversation and an even longer night.

A/n: I know I have been missing and neglecting my babies, but finals are right around the corner and studying needs to be done lmao! I hope you liked this one! Let's chat!!

Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list.

Love 💜🌙

Tag list: @obsessoverthesmallthings247 @threedecadesofawkward @mabel-k3 @tremendousminyoongi @justignoremepleaz @demonic-meatball @hadaises @littlestsweetpea28 @rjsmochii @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @gali-005 @salty-for-suga @indicisive-af @nomimits7 @lyssjeon @raisatarannum1234 @purplelady85 @threedecadesofawkward @valentynxmgc @acopenhagenarmy @ephyra1230 @minluvly @trashandshook @brinascorpio

65 notes · View notes

ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

Note

Hello there, I don't know if your taking requests, if so I'm in desperate need of some mean Alfie, like the readers brother can't pay Alfie back what he owes so Alfie threatens him. So she storms into Alfie's house to give him a piece of her mind. And he is fuming first and basically tells her to get lost. But has a change of heart last minute and calls her back to make a deal. Maybe that she will go on a date with him😀 id love if you could include the date in the story but if not that's fine to. I think your a fantastic writer and I just wanted to let you know how much I love your work.

//Oh my lord I did NOT mean to get this carried away.

Jane’s younger brother was a nuisance. At least, that’s what the neighbors said. Jane would call him…troubled. He found himself in a group of unsavory young men who liked to cause trouble in the neighborhood.

Jane prayed that it was just a phase that he would grow out of. However, he was twenty, and she figured he ought to know better by then. She didn’t blame him for being so rebellious. Their parents had both died from the Spanish Flu. They left behind five children. Alex was the youngest, twelve at the time of their death, Lucille was sixteen, Bernard was twenty, Jane was twenty-two, and Isabella was twenty-four. They all tried their best to be a complete family after the tragedy, but it was so difficult. Especially when Isabella married just six months after, Lucille married two years after, and Bernard left for America four years after.

From then on, it was just Jane and Alex. She loved her younger brother dearly, but he was such a handful. His behavior escalated from getting in schoolyard fights to committing petty crimes. It was exhausting trying to keep up with him.

Finally, he made the ultimate mistake and came home with a black eye as a prize.

“What happened?” Jane gasped when she saw the state of her brother. He was hunched over, clutching his side, his face was swollen and bloodied.

“M’sorry.” He mumbled.

“Alex, tell me what happened. Who did this to you?” She demanded.

“Alfie Solomons, his men did it.” He winced in pain as he tried to sit down on the sofa. “I owe them some money. I can’t pay it though.”

Jane spent all her time working to provide for herself and her brother. She had no time to gossip or listen to people whisper about the famed gangster of Camden Town. So, she had little clue what sort of power the name held. “This is ending here and now.” She decided firmly. “I will settle this bet with Mr. Solomons if you go out and get a proper job and stay out of all this-this nonsense!” She snapped, finished with Alex’s behavior.

It seemed that the interaction with the Camden bakers had scared the young man well enough that he was willing to put that way of life behind and start on the straight and narrow. He nodded frantically. “But you can’t go to see him.” He warned. “Give the money to Richard, he’ll get the money to him.”

Jane wrinkled her nose in disgust at the mention of Alex’s friend. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was the one who lured Alex into a life of crime. “No, I’ll do it myself. I don’t trust him.” She decided with conviction. She began to go upstairs to get her savings that were hidden under the floorboard.

“No, Jane, listen to me!” Her brother urged. “Alfie Solomons is a fucking psychopath. He kills people for sport. I ain’t gonna let you go near him.”

“If he’s willing to kill someone over a couple of pounds, then that’s his problem. I’m not afraid of someone who will bully a twenty-year-old. Now go and put a cloth on your face to put down the swelling.” She ordered.

Alex looked worried but knew he wasn’t able to talk his sister out of anything. He could only hope that she would find Alfie on a good day.

~~~~~~~~~

Jane marched into Camden Town with fire in her eyes. She had two pounds in her pocket, almost two months of work for her, but her family came first. Alex could work back the debt he owed to her later. She would much rather this be a learning experience for him, something to shake him awake and put him on the right path finally.

She found the address where Alfie Solomons’ office supposedly was. There, a young man was keeping guard in front of double doors.

As she approached, he straightened up. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Mr. Solomons.” She replied.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“An appointment? What is he, the bloody king? No, I’m here to pay back my brother’s debt.”

“Hang on, stay here.” He went into the large building and left Jane waiting. As she waited, she felt people watching her. People passing by seemed to take notice of anyone unfamiliar to the area, especially someone who was lingering around the bakery of Alfie Solomons.

A few minutes later, the doors opened again and the man beckoned her inside. “You armed?”

“Armed? No, of course not.”

“Do you mind if I check?”

“Yes, I mind, keep your hands to yourself!” She snapped.

“Yeah, see now I know where your brother has got that attitude from.” A voice boomed across the hallway leading into the bakery.

Jane looked to see the man himself. Broad-shouldered and walking like a soldier, he came into view in the dimly lit area.

“Pardon?” She wasn’t used to such a brash greeting.

“You’re Alex’s sister, ain’t ya? Look a lot alike, you two. Act similarly too. Figures as much. Boy who can’t keep his mouth shut looking up to a woman who can’t keep her mouth shut.” He stopped in front of her.

At first glance, Jane didn’t see what all the fuss was. He looked and dressed pretty simply, nothing outstanding. But then she started to pick up on the small details that made him who he was. The gold rings, the bracelets, the tattoos, the scars.

“Here.” She pulled the money out to give to him. She wasn’t going to waste her time on this man.

He tutted as he took the money from her. Looking at the amount as if she were merely throwing a few coins his way. “Oh, dear, this ain’t enough, love.” He shook his head as if disappointed.

“That’s what my brother gave you. That’s what he owes you.” She insisted.

“Something called interest, sweetheart. S’been over two months since I loaned your brother the money. So, his debt has been racking up interest, m’fraid. Nearly double this by now.”

Jane’s blood boiled at his audacity. “How dare you?” She hissed. “Who are you to act like some big shot who owns the world, aye?”

“It’s just business, love. If you don’t like it then I’m not sure why you’re even here. This is your brother’s debt, not yours. Shows what sort of man he is, having a woman settle his debts.”

She was seething at his cool demeanor. “Because I look after my family. We care for each other even when one of our own has made a mistake. It’s a shame you don’t know that Mr. Solomons. That just means you have no love in your life. That’s quite sad actually.”

His relaxed façade began to melt right in front of her eyes. “Aye? Who the fuck do you think you are that you can come into me business and speak to me like that?” He stepped towards her, his hand gripping a slender wooden cane.

“You had my brother beaten because of a couple of pounds. It doesn’t look like you even need that money. You seem to be doing fine on your own. Or is that how you make your fortune? By threatening people’s lives so they’ll give you money?”

Alfie’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the way the world works. If you don’t like it, you can jog on. Let your brother handle it.”

“My brother will have no more dealings with you, Mr. Solomons. You can either take the money that I’ve given you or take nothing at all. My family isn’t giving you another cent.”

Alfie chuckled darkly. “So, you make the rules then, is that right? That’s funny that is. Little girl coming into my bakery to tell me what to do. That’s brave of you, innit?”

“I don’t hide behind other people. I’m not a coward like you.” She spat. “I don’t care who you are or what you’ve done. You’re going to leave me and my brother alone.” She went to turn around but Alfie’s voice chased her.

“And would you care if I had your brother shot in the street?”

Jane spun around with anger radiating off her. “You are a monster.” Her voice raised louder. “If you ever even want to think about hurting my brother, you’ll have to go through me first.” She snarled before finally taking her leave.

Alfie frowned to himself. What was this feeling? Sympathy? Empathy? Amusement? Here was this beautiful woman who came storming into his life, ready to fight for her brother. She wasn’t afraid of him in the slightest and was true to her values. “Hold it.” He yelled after her.

She stopped and turned with her arms crossed over her chest. She didn’t say anything, just waited for him to speak.

“Here.” He walked over to her and handed the money back. “What’s your name?”

“Jane.” She replied, eyeing the money suspiciously.

“Well, Jane, you must know that you’re much braver than most men I’ve met. Other people in your position would be shaking in their boots. None of them would talk to me the way that you just did.” He said with a gentler tone.

She was a bit unnerved by the sudden change in his demeanor. There was no telling what his motive was. “That sounds like a compliment.”

“It is.”

“So, because I stood up to you, you’re going to give me back the money?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Call it an appreciation of your courage.”

Jane glanced over her shoulder at the door then back to him. “What are you playing at?” She questioned.

“No game, love. But, figure you see the same type day in and day out, yeah? Men, well can’t really call them men, boys really, who come in and out of your office, whinging on about this and that. Shaking in their boots ‘cause they’re so fucking terrified of mean ‘ol Alfie Solomons.” He pointed to the door. “Then, in comes a woman who is ready to take up arms for her brother against someone like me. Refusing to compromise. Well, something you wish you could see a bit more, innit?”

Jane felt herself relaxing a bit. Behind the scary façade of a gangster was really an oddly charming man. “Well, I’m sorry to say but there isn’t anyone like me.”

That got a laugh out of Alfie. “Fucking hell, you really are something else. You’re right though, ‘bout a one in a million I’d guess.”

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Okay, well…if you ever see my brother again, tell him to trot on. I don’t want him to go down the same path as…”

“As me?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t mean to be rude.” Jane blinked. Why wasn’t she berating this man who had threatened her brother? Why was she staring back at him? Why was the way he was looking at her so endearing?

“And what am I meant to do if I run into you again?” He inquired as if it was just a casual question.

“Well…should we run into each other again, I should hope it’s because you’re trying to mend things. A gesture of condolence for your behavior.” She replied steadily although her heart was beating unnaturally fast in her chest.

The corner of Alfie’s lip turned up. “Well, that’s very good to know. This condolence, would dinner be good ‘nough?”

Oh, what a hypocrite she was. Admonishing her brother for dealing with lowlifes and now here she was entertaining the idea of going out with one of the most dangerous of them all. But there was something about him that was so alluring. “Perhaps. If you’re on your best behavior.”

“Well, I happen to think I clean up nicely. I can mingle with the toffs just as well as anyone. ‘Specially if it means making a beautiful woman happy.”

Jane felt her face go red. Things had taken such a drastic turn, she wondered if she was imagining it all. “Then I suppose it’ll be alright if you take me out.” She gave him a number to call.

But before she took her leave, she asked one more question. “Is it your charm that gets you out of trouble?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Love, I am trouble.”

#ugly crying asks

8 notes · View notes

retvenkos · 4 years

Text

“you’re kind of on my lawn, so...”

OKAY, FOLKS, BUCKLE IN BECAUSE WE ARE GOING TO TALK ABOUT BEING E.J. CASWELL’S NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR...

both of you are the same age

and when you were young, the two of you would play together after school because e.j. is an only kid fite me on that and your older siblings had homework and your younger sibling was at least four years younger than you and was a baby

you wanted to climb trees with someone

and e.j. was good at that

the two of you would play everything together

you would play fantastical games:

you were an evil magician that he had to defeat

you were trapped on a foreign planet and had to find a way home

you always had the bigger imagination to create the scenario, and e.j. would apply his ‘science’ to fix things

or you would play regular games

you would ride bikes together

or basketball

one time you tried to play baseball together, but he hit you in the nose

there’s still a little bruise on your nose

but as the two of you got older, you grew apart

you had tutoring after school and e.j. had different clubs

he also had his own friends that he would bring over after school

in sixth grade he would have a group of friends come over and play basketball in his yard

you would climb your tree and read books or write in it

and the two of you were always nice to each other, it was just that the two of you were on different paths

e.j. caswell was becoming the school heartthrob

and you were you

but when your guardian gets sick in 10th grade, they can’t take you to school

and your older sibling is working in another state

and you have to get your younger sibling to the junior high and yourself to high school - all without a drivers license

just because you were afraid of driving and hadn’t signed up for drivers ed yet didn’t mean anything, thanks

and none of your friends lived nearby, and you were on special permit - the buses didn’t come to your house

so you did the walk of shame, over to e.j. caswell’s house

his mother answered the door

she was kind of a scary woman

had always expected the best of e.j. and wouldn’t take second place

his dad must have sensed your fear, because he came over

and you told him what had happened

and he was sympathetic

“i can take you and your sibling, if you’d like. e.j. and i pass it every morning on our way to the high school.”

“thank you, mr. caswell.”

“anytime, (y/n). we leave at 6:45 every morning. if you want, i can get your phone number and e.j. can text you.”

and you couldn’t think of a good excuse against him

and e.j. cawell has your phone number

and if you thought you hated this, you should have seen e.j.

“dad, it’s bad enough that you have to drive me. but now i have to carpool too? that’s so lame!”

“you and (y/n) used to be best friends, son!”

“in like, second grade! i haven’t seen (n/n) since! it’s going to be so awkward!”

“right, awkward... but you still use their nickname?”

“c’mon, dad. why can’t their folks take them?”

“you’re going to have to ask them that yourself.”

and he sighs and goes up to his room

e.j. is 10/10 that white boy that yells at his parents, you can’t convince me otherwise

and for the first week, it is very awkward

then, one day, his dad makes a dad joke in the car and the two of you groan in unison

“that was so bad, dad.” / “that was the best of the worst, mr. caswell.”

and then there’s silence

“you like dad jokes?”

“you don’t appreciate the craft?”

“he obviously gets them from twitter.”

“i don’t know, e. someone has to post them first.”

and you realize you used his old nickname

and you pray he doesn’t notice

he does

“my dad is no language genius. that was always your strong suit.”

and he realizes he has complimented you.

and he prays you don’t notice

you do

but then, you are at school

and you part ways

but the ride home is always looming over you

luckily, your sibling is in the car and distracts you with stories about what they learned in biology

and when they ask you a question, you have no idea

but e.j. answers, smiling

you were either going to become friends or kill him

and then, after three weeks of awkward conversations, school was out

and you praised god

but, then, the summer had it’s own challenges

you were writing outside (now underneath the tree because you’re too big to be climbing anymore) and e.j. walks over, hands in the pockets on his shorts

and, yes, he wears khaki shorts, thank you very much

if this were the 2000s, he would wear a puka shell necklace, don’t lie to yourself

and you see him come over and your pray that he doesn’t stop in front of you

but he does

damn it all

“hey, (n/n)?”

“yeah?”

and he’s silent for a second

“i know i’ve kind of left you behind, and that was a pretty jerk move. i’m sorry.”

and you are s h o o k

e.j. caswell?? apologizing???

“...thanks, e.j., but... i kind of left you too.”

“yeah.”

and you both sit there for a second, shaking your heads in agreement.

“but we’re still friends... right?”

“...i’m always here if you want to be.”

“friends, then.”

“friends.”

and then your younger sibling bursts out the door and runs over to e.j., telling him all about a new science journal they’re reading

and you may not be the best of friends, but the two of you are closer after that

you help him with your english and he helps you with science

and you’ve come to an understanding, of sorts

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

#high school musical the musical the series #hsmtmts #e.j. caswell #x reader #reader insert #imagine #headcanons #would include #platonic!reader #platonic #fluff #ejcaswellheadcanons

60 notes · View notes

danasmonster · 4 years

Text

Comparing the SKAM Remakes: SANA (Part I)

Sana (SKAM original)

Sana is constantly having to defend and explain herself to others - her friends, her family, strangers. We see this with Vilde when she says Sana can’t have sex, and Sana clarifies that by explaining that she can have sex, she just chooses not to. There is also the assumption that Sana isn’t interested in boys or that she can’t participate in russefeiring “because she’s not ‘allowed’ to drink alcohol.” We see it with her parents when she has to explain to her mom that not all aspects of Islam fit her, and with her brother when she references him discouraging her from wearing a hijab in order to fit in more and avoid stigma. And finally, she explains during her season that she has experienced watching her brother being spit on, being asked racist questions, and other rude or hateful acts because she and her family are Muslim.

The struggle to be both Norwegian and Muslim turns into a competition she gets lost in, and she ends up doing some very non-Muslim things like bully the Pepsi Max squad and lie in order to procure a russ bus. She also develops feelings for former Muslim and current atheist Yusef, which opens up an internal debate about the “Muslims only marry Muslims” rule.

With all of her bitchiness, her prickliness, her rudeness and her mistakes, I still absolutely adore Sana. She is strong, outspoken, and takes absolutely no shit from anyone. Her story is so incredibly relevant to the world as a whole because of the way a lot of people view Islam or other “restrictive” aspects/sects of Christianity or other religions. It is a reminder that ultimately we should strive to love and understand each other, whether you are a theist or an atheist, a Muslim or a Norwegian. All is love.

Everything I Love:

The opening scene with the contrast between Sana’s view from the bus with terrorist attacks and None of Dem by Robyn & Royksopp is so fun, & the look Sana gives the woman giving her a look over on the bus is pure Sana perfection

The scene when Elias called Sana a slave woman and all of his friends gave him a verbal beatdown

When we heard that Eskild was redecorating Noora’s room without her permission

The Hot in Here scene with all the Balloon Squad working out while the girl squad ogles them, and the way Sana visibly snaps herself out of her trance. Also the shot of them coming up the street with a bunch of balloons to meet the girls is iconic

The way Yousef comes over to talk to Sana while she is over in the corner being a grump on the bus - I knew there was a reason she and Isak became friends. They’re both grumpy pants.

When Sana catches Yousef dancing in her living room

The happy little look on her face when Yousef sends her a friend request on Facebook. She always smiles so freaking bright when she’s having fun with him

When Yousef showed off his carrot peeling skills

The way the Pepsi Max squad always has Pepsi

When Yousef took the rap for the vodka left out at Sana’s party, then Sana was hit with a metaphorical brick when Yousef told her he isn’t Muslim. You could see the shock on her face, and now she is conflicted because “Muslims only marry Muslims” and she clearly has already developed feelings for Yousef

When Sana and Noora drink coffee and bask in their solidarity that Vilde and Magnus are gross

When Sana and Yousef play basketball together and we see her smile - we have NEVER seen her smile like that. And then they have a heart to heart about their individual religious beliefs and it is PURE GOLD

“I just feel like Islam, or religion in general, creates a lot of anxiety in people . . . I personally feel like I’ve taken the best out of the religion and thrown away the rest. It’s like, compassion towards others, being grateful for what’s best, having compassion. That’s it. Don’t you think I can remember to be a good person without praying?” - Yousef

“For me, everything can be total chaos during the day, but the moment I start to pray, everything turns quiet and clear. Because even though there’s all this chaos, you’ll remember what really matters. It’s fine because everything has a bigger context and a meaning. Because every little part of the universe is so complex. Imagine that! Even the brain of a cockroach has greater meaning on earth. I just can’t believe all of that is a coincidence,” - Sana

Her chat with Elias was also fantastic

“What’s more important, saying you believe in Allah or behaving as though you believe in Allah?” - Elias

Watching everyone join in during “Imagine” definitely almost had me tearing up - another song added to my playlist. Honestly this scene was so sweet and touching and then everything just came crashing down. It was intense. And Sana’s face just looked freaking broken. Then when she overheard that her suspicions about being pushed out of the group because she’s Muslim were correct it was like an extra stab through the heart

The scene where she’s walking through the schoolyard was excellent - very reminiscent of Isak’s similar scene, and another way in which the two of them parallel one another

And this line is so, so true from Sana to Isak regarding why she never told Isak she knew Even before he met Isak

“I think Even should get to choose for himself how much he wants to share about his past. I mean, you might not want to share every thing about your past.”

When Sana and Jamilla have the conversation about all the different ways people fast, and Jamilla references her friend who won’t even swallow her own spit. So this friend goes around spitting all the time while she’s fasting. “She’s really confident about it, too.”

Both Sana’s expression of how she thinks the world views her and Isak’s response are very powerful

Sana: “Do you know what people think when they see me, when they see my hijab, which is the first thing they see? They think I’m wearing it because I’m forced to, not because I want to. And if I say it’s because I want to, then I’m just oppressed because I can’t have my own opinion. We talk about freedom of religion and all kinds of freedoms here in Norway, but being allowed to wear an extra piece of clothing, that’s wrong? Do you know what people do when they see Elias and I walking down the street? They spit at him because they think he’s oppressing me! He doesn’t even want me to wear the hijab because he doesn’t want me to get hate. Do you know how fucking tiring it is to walk out the door everyday knowing it’s yet another day where you have to prove to a whole country that you’re not oppressed . . . I’ve received so many dumb, racist questions in my life.”

Isak: “The dumb questions are so fucking important. People can’t stop asking the dumb questions because when they stop asking the dumb questions they start making up their own answers. And that’s dangerous. You just have to stop looking for racism in dumb questions. Even if they feel racist, it’s so fucking important to answer them.”

The Los Losers bus definitely had me tearing up

When Linn admitted to sending a used tampon to someone who flirted with the boy she liked

When we see Eskild picking up his guru mantle once more and he compares The Bible to Beyoncé . . . “The Bible says ‘The greatest of these is love’ or as Beyoncé would say ‘Love on top,’” while giving Sana advice

Noora’s face both when she saw William getting out of his car and when she got out of his after a four day sex and talk marathon

The conversation between Sana and her mom about why it is important for her to eventually marry someone who understands her beliefs and reminds her of them, not because she should be Muslim but because she chooses to be Muslim and she “would be very lonely if she were the only one in the relationship who believes.” So, whether or not she marries a nonbeliever or a non-Muslim is Sana’s choice, but there would be essential parts of Sana’s own wellbeing that would effected if she chose to go that route because her faith is an essential part of who she is.

The conversation with Noora was equally important. They may not necessarily be fated to be together, but there is a reason this person (Yousef) came into Sana’s life and avoiding him would be ignoring this sign from fate that this person is supposed to be a part of her life right now. Life is now.

When Yousef and Sana have yet another philosophical/religious discussion and Yousef proposes: “Maybe that’s why society needs religion. Democracy isn’t based on the idea that all people are different. It’s based on the idea that all people have equal worth. And that idea doesn’t exactly come from science. But I don’t think it helps to pretend there aren’t prejudices. What you have to do instead is show what Islam is.”

And The Finale!!!

When Vilde was putting on her makeup and listening to Pretty Hurts by Beyoncé, and everything else about her segment. I loved getting that glimpse into some of her life and mind for a little while. I’m still disappointed she never got to tell us her story during the original SKAM.

When Eva reminds Chris that he’s a fuckboy so they can never be together. Sure he’s momentarily disappointed and probably felt sad for a little bit, but he was really quick to move on to Emma - proving Eva was smarter than him and knew him better than he knew himself. Seriously though the scene where Penetrator Chris and Emma first see each other is fucking awesome

I LOVE LOVE LOVE that the school nurse has a big white dildo on the desk next to her while she has her chat with Chris

When we see Even stressing over making Isak’s birthday perfect

The interaction between Eskild and Linn when Eskild tells Linn she has to wear a hijab to Sana’s party because Sana is Muslim was hilarious. And then he told her they are always going to be there for each other and it got me right in the feels

And then when Eskild was proposing he, Noor, and Linn could share everything together if William moved in . . . shampoo, and William, and dish soap . . .

Then Vilde to Chris; “You know why you’re my best friend? Because no matter how hard my day is, you always find a way to make me laugh. Sometimes it makes you feel better to pretend that you’re fine.”

And the final speech!!!!

“Dear Sana, This speech is for you. And you’re getting it because what you’re inviting us to today overthrows American presidents tomorrow. We live in a chaotic world where it is difficult to understand the rules. Because why are some people poor and other people rich? Why do some people have to be refugees while others are safe? And why is it that sometimes even though you try to do something good it’s still met with hate?

It’s not weird that people give up, that they stop believing the good. But thank you so much for not giving up, Sana. Because even though it sometimes feels like it no one is ever alone. Each and everyone of us is part of the big chaos. And what you do today has an effect tomorrow.

it can be hard to say exactly what kind of effect, and usually you can’t see how everything fits together. But the effects of your actions are always there, somewhere in the chaos. In 100 years we may have machines that can predict effects of every action but until then we can trust this: Fear spreads But… But, fortunately love does too.”

I’m going to go cry now.

#skam #sanaxyousef #sana #Muslim #islam #religion #atheism #islamophobia #russ

7 notes · View notes

monaisme · 3 years

Text

Day 27: “I wish I had never given you a chance”

* *Six months ago* *

“Hey, Parker, do you have a minute?”

Peter looked over his shoulder, positive someone named Parker would be standing behind him. When he saw no one, he turned back to Flash. “Are you talking to me?”

Flash scowled, “Ha-ha, Parker, really funny.” He looked up and down the hallway, appearing to be rather uncomfortable. “Really, do you have a minute to talk... just talk?”

It was Peter’s turn to check and see if the hallway was clear. He was suddenly very nervous that Flash’s buddies would suddenly swarm, leaving Peter bloody, bruised, stained, soaked, or some combination of the four. He wasn’t in the mood for it... not today. “I have to get going, Flash, so if you and your band of thugs are planning something, can we get it out of the way quick so I’m not late—or at least have a chance to change before hitting the subway?”

Flash’s scowl changed to something Peter hadn’t seen on him before. Whatever it was, it was a genuine emotion—not the ‘Flash’ bravado he put on for the masses.

It had Peter concerned. “Flash? Is everything okay?”

He cleared his throat, “Look, I don’t want to make a big deal out of this. I just... I mean...” He huffed in frustration. “It has come to my attention that I am perhaps not the... nicest... person on the planet and that I should be working on bettering myself as a human being.”

“What are you talking about, Flash?” Peter couldn’t contain the confusion.

Flash looked up, like he was praying for patience, or maybe willpower? Regardless, he kept going, “This isn’t easy for me, Parker so cut me some slack!” He breathed heavily.

“Flash?”

“I’m serious! I’m realizing that I’m a bit of a shithead and I’m trying to change—and I can’t do that if you’re wondering if my friends are hiding around the corner waiting for me to spring a trap.”

Peter had to take a second to pick his jaw up off of the floor. There were so many things he could say in response to Flash’s declaration. ‘What a fantastic life choice!’— ‘I’m proud of you, Flash!’ –- but when he opened his mouth, “Just a bit?” spilled out.

Neither of them said anything of a few seconds, and then the loudest snort laugh Peter had ever heard came out of Flash’s face... which led to the two of them howling in laughter in that empty hallway. Every time one of them calmed down, they’d look at the other and start all over again.

Eventually they stopped. Peter was bent over at the waist catching his breath and Flash was wiping the last of the tears off his cheeks. Their eyes connected, and something passed between them. Nothing life altering or soul shattering, but... something.

“That was fair, Parker,” Flash acknowledged and with a sincerity Peter didn’t know was possible from the other, he said, “I am sorry for the things I’ve done, and I’m going to try to do better.”

Peter wanted to be the better person, but there was so much history. He smiled at his high school nemesis—oops, ex-nemesis and replied, “I look forward to seeing the change.”

He thought he saw Flash’s face fall, but in a second the look was gone.

“I’ll have to take that.” Flash accepted graciously and then, “So, yeah,” The moment was over. “I’m gonna go now, I think my Dad’s here to pick me up so...” Flash pointed some fingers guns at him, “I’ll see you at practice, ‘kay?”

Peter smiled, “You bet, Flash. See you at practice.”

* *Five months ago* *

Lunch period was just starting when the announcement came over the PA system, “Eugene Thompson, please report to the office. Eugene Thompson to the office, please. Thank you.”

Of course, half the cafeteria called out the requisite ‘ooooooh’s’ and Flash, who was sitting only a table over, looked over at Peter, with Ned and MJ, and shrugged. He grabbed the apple and water bottle off of his tray and brought the rest over to Peter. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be. Can I ask you to watch this, and if I’m not back by,” he checked out the clock on the wall, “Say quarter after twelve, you guys can finish it?”

In unison, the three all turned to looked over to the table of friends that Flash had just left, “Why not ask one of them?” Ned asked.

Flash chuckled and shot down the idea. “I’m not in the mood to play ‘which food did they spit in?’ Thank you very much. If you can’t that’s cool, but...”

Peter jumped in, “We’ve got it, Flash. We’ll watch the clock. 12:15pm.” He didn’t quite know what else to say. “Um. Hope it’s nothing catastrophic?”

Flash grimaced. “Me, too. Uh... thanks.” With a small wave he exited the cafeteria.

Ned jumped on him first, “Dude! What the heck!? I know you told me he’d apologized but that was straight out of the Twilight Zone!” Ned was freaking out.

MJ, always the level headed of the group, nodded in approval. “I can appreciate the effort he’s making to break out of a social construct of his own creation. It must be difficult to make a change when everything around you stays the same.” She looked across to Flash’s buddies and then to Peter.

He rolled his eyes at the implication. “C’mon, MJ. It’s been a month and there’s a lot of history there, you know? I’m... yeah. It would be nice to believe this is real, and I’m hopeful, but give me more than five minutes to get used to this, please?”

“I understand that, Peter, and I can appreciate history—just remember that we’re meant to learn from it, not get stuck in it.”

Peter appreciated the advice for what it was—really, but he and Ned had an ongoing tic-tac-toe tournament Peter decided he’d rather they focus on that. One thousand, six hundred, twenty-nine consecutive draws after ONE brain fart on Peter’s part...? Yeah, he was working toward redemption.

At ten minutes past twelve, Flash came back into the cafeteria, looking desolate. He meandered between the tables and stopped in front of theirs. He didn’t ask, just sat down and stared into nothing.

They were all curious, but Peter was the one to ask, “Flash? Is everything alright?”

Flash blinked and looked up at him, almost seemed surprised to see him. “Oh, uh, my mom needed to drop off a new house key. She won’t be home after school and she had the locks changed this morning.”

“Oh, okay.” He awkwardly replied. “Um... here’s your lunch.” Peter slid the tray in front of the dazed teenager. “I promise you, it’s spit free and everything.”

“Thanks.” Flash stared at the tray and quieted.

The three of them exchanged looks of concern, and though no words were spoken, they all came to an agreement.

“Hey, Flash,” Peter piped up, “Um, if you’re mom is gonna be gone after school, did you want to come over to my place? We’re, uh, going to be putting together a 3000 piece puzzle of the Milky Way and I’m going to lose my mind if they make me sort edges by myself. You’re welcome to join us if you want?”

Flash blinked back again.

“It’s even nerdier than it sounds, but we’re all about embracing our inner geek at this table.” Peter added.

Ned held up the infinite tic-tac-toe game as further proof. “True story, Flash.”

Flash looked over at MJ who just shrugged. “I’m not a nerd. I’m just smarter than them... which is why I make them sort.”

Peter could see that Flash was considering, so he tossed in one last incentive. “If you come, I won’t make you eat my Aunt’s walnut loaf.”

Flash smiled then, and it was almost sincere. “That sounds like fun. I’ll meet you guys out front after school?”

They all agreed, and Flash took a bite of his lunch.

* *Four months ago* *

Peter had been gone for a couple of days for an ‘internship retreat’ and it was time to crack down and get back to work. Spanish waited for no one.

“I can’t believe you actually have an internship with Tony Stark, Peter.” Flash teased him relentless as he made flashcards.

“And none of us can believe it took you so long to believe it, Flash.” MJ droned out over the edge of her textbook. “Seriously, he gets picked up in a new luxury car every week.”

Flash blushed over it again. “C’mon, you have to cut me a little slack, I mean really? What are the odds that something like that would happen to—“ The group braced, still cautious but hopeful... “anyone, let alone a junior in high school?! I was talking to my dad about it last night and he says with luck like that, you should be playing the horses.”

Peter chuckled and shook his head, “I’m not one to look at odds, Flash. My luck is only about fifty-fifty at the best of times.”

“And our odds of passing this exam will be less than that if we don’t stop yammering and get to work! Let’s go, losers!” Ever the taskmaster, MJ started barking out verbs to conjugate—and everyone got back to work.

* *Three and a half months ago* *

“Hey guys, guess what!?” Peter rushed up to them all congregated at Ned’s locker. “Mr. Stark got tickets to the premier of that new Oscar Isaac movie next week! He’d need to hang out with all of the mucky-mucks, but he can get extra tickets for us, if we’re okay with sitting with the rest of the peons—his words, not mine—if you want. I just have to let him know how many we need and then we can go with him in the limo!”

Ned freaked! “One for me, please! I’m content breathing in the same space as Poe Dameron even if the movie is supposed to suck, thank you very much!”

MJ had, of course, read the book that the movie was based on. “I’d be interested to see how a female director could have done a better job. Sure, I’m in.”

Flash was quiet.

“Flash? Are you in?”

Not looking quite comfortable with himself, Flash asked, “Are you sure he meant me, too?”

“Yeah, Flash. He means you, too. Did you think I’d be offering this to only some of my friends?”

Flash released a slow breath. “If you’re sure, then I’d love to come. Thanks.”

* *Three months ago* *

“Where’s Flash?” Ned asked as he sat down at their table at lunch. “He wasn’t in Comp Sci and Mrs. Berman asked me if I knew where he was.”

Peter and MJ pulled their phones out, checking to see if there were any unread texts or emails they’d missed.

They had nothing.

Peter took a second to peck something out.

11:45am

PBWanKenobi: Hey, man! R U ok?

Flash was normally like a beast with replying back to texts. MJ said he had a serious case of FOMO and Flash hadn’t disagreed. None of them understood how he had yet to be caught or have his phone confiscated.

And none of them had heard from him by the end of lunch.

12:24pm

PBWanKenobi: Hey, let one us know you’re alive?

Peter had just fallen asleep after a rough evening of Spider-manning when his phone pinged.

11:58pm

TheFlash: The message you have sent is undeliverable.

11: 59pm

TheFlash: The message you have sent is undeliverable.

* *Two months and three weeks ago* *

“Flash!” Peter practically bulldozed him over in his relief at seeing his friend safe and sound. “Are you okay? What the hell happened to you? We were so worried?!”

MJ and Ned had stayed back, Peter doing enough freaking out for the lot of them.

Flash flushed with embarrassment. “Um, can we maybe talk about it later? It’s, uh...” Flash looked around the busy hallway and Peter figured it out pretty quick.

“Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry about that.” Peter stepped back, hands thrust into his pockets and trying to be calm, cool, and collected.

No one bought it, and before long they were all laughing at Peter’s dorkiness.

“C’mon, losers, we’ve got Chemistry in five minutes.”

* *Two months ago* *

Peter tried really hard to not make a big deal of it, but Flash was going through some big shit. His mom had kidnapped him! Wait, it was a ‘custodial disagreement’ and Flash had disappeared. His mom had driven him over state lines without his Dad’s express permission and had destroyed his phone so they couldn’t be tracked.

They’d been found anyways.

It was insane.

Flash’s mom was out on bail but not allowed to see him and Flash’s dad had taken back the house she’d been living in.

And Flash wasn’t doing too great.

He’d started spending time with his old buddies again, which was cool! Totally okay, but they were still jerks and Flash was hurting.

Flash promised it was only because of his Dad. Apparently these buddies were the kids of some of Harrison Thompson’s wealthiest clients and Flash was supposed to be in on the schmooze.

Anything to make a buck, is what Harrison Thompson said.

Anything to get a leg up, is what Harrison Thompson said.

Suck it up, Eugene, you’re not here to make friends. You’re here to make connections. It’s about whose holding all the cards. It’s about the win-win-win, is what Harrison Thompson said.

Peter didn’t like Harrison Thompson very much, and he’d never even laid eyes on him.

* *One month and one week ago* *

Peter had talked to Mr. Stark about the situation with Flash during their lab time. He didn’t quite know how to process everything and with May working her second shift rotation at the hospital, he was stuck for advice on how to deal with it all.

“Maybe the kid needs a break?” Mr. Stark suggested. “Why don’t you guys all come out to the lake house for the day, take a breather from everything. The weather is certainly nice enough for it. I’ll grab Pepper and we can jump in the SUV. You can all bring your swimsuits and we can make a day out of it. I’ll barbeque. Pepper will yell at me for burning things! It’ll be a gas.”

Peter rolled his eyes at his mentor. “Are you sure? I mean, it sounds great, but are you sure-sure-sure about it? I know the lake house is kind of your thing...” Peter didn’t want to intrude.

Tony walked over to Peter’s station and looked him in the eye. “Kid, if you say this kid is good people, then I’m going to trust you. And if you say this kid needs a hand and this is what I can do? Then I can do it.”

Peter thought about the last weeks and how withdrawn Flash had been. He knew he wasn’t hearing a quarter of what was going on at Flash’s house and he knew that Flash’s dad cast a wide shadow. Maybe a trip out of the city would be what Flash needed to open up?

He’d decided. “If you’re positive, Mr. Stark, I’ll take you up on that offer. I think it’ll be exactly what he needs.”

* *Three weeks ago* *

It really was exactly what Flash needed.

They’d spent the day in the water. Tony had installed a tire swing last spring and a slide at the edge of the dock during the summer. It was glorious. MJ had goofed off for a bit, but when Pepper came out to sit on the dock, she’d left the water to be all ‘mature.’ Whatever. Peter, Ned, and Flash made farting noises with their hands in the water. If Tony had joined them in the water (making farting noises, too!), no one would tell—but there were pictures.

They grilled burgers and hot dogs and ate until too full.

It was the perfect day.

* *One week and three days ago* *

5:32am

TheFlash2.0: Peter. 911 Call me.

5:33am

TheFlash2.0: Peter. Wake up.

5:33am

TheFlash2.0: Peter. Please wake up!!!!!

5:36am

TheFlash2.0: On my life, Peter! It wasn’t me! I swear it!

5:45am

TheFlash2.0: Please! I’m phoning.and you’re not answering! It your phone on silent?

5:45am

TheFlash2.0: *is dammit!

5:50am

TheFlash2.0: Peter. I don’t know what to do..

Neither Flash nor Peter were at school that day.

The reporters outside of his Queens apartment made it impossible for Peter to leave.

The beating he’d received from his father after the argument had made it impossible for Flash to leave.

* *One week and one day ago* *

10:23am

TheFlash2.0: Please thank Mr. Stark for filing a police report. Not sure if you care, but I’m with my grandma and I’m safe.

10:23am

PBWanKenobi: I care.

10:25am

PBWanKenobi: I’m glad you’re safe.

* *One week ago* *

The press conference had gone as well as could be expected. After the photo had been released, things had been... chaotic.

Pepper had already been prepared for someone to make the assumption that Peter was Tony’s kid—but when Harrison Thompson had implied that Peter was Tony’s...

Peter felt nauseous even thinking about it.

MJ had been horrified by all of it. When she and Pepper had decided to visit on the dock, they’d been relegated to phone babysitters. MJ wouldn’t stand for just sitting and watching. She’d grabbed everyone’s phones and snapped like every moment was a precious memory. Ned had a picture of Mr. Stark dunking Flash under the water—and then another of Flash coming up and spouting a mouthful back at him. Peter had him, Ned and Flash doing cannonballs off the dock. They each had a couple of selfies of MJ and Pepper hamming it up all on their own...

Flash had a couple of photos of Mr. Stark and Peter—Peter had been standing... just standing and talking to Flash in the distance. You could see him in the picture. Mr. Stark had, for the first time EVER, managed to sneak up on the kid. Flash had played along as the distraction. He could have dunked Peter, zinged him, splashed... anything. But no, Mr. Stark, in a moment of affection gave Peter a hug from behind. It was sweet and tender—and photoshopped.

Harrison Thompson had ruined it.

He had taken something so wholesome—he had taken a piece of his own son’s joy and twisted it—had tried to ruin lives.

The man was a monster and with that one press conference, Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries had destroyed him and his reputation spectacularly. She revealed every lie, every fraud, every deception—all of the evil he had ever done. He would never work in the state of New York again. And he would never have custody of his son again. And if, by the end of it, he was never free again, no one would complain.

It gave Peter some satisfaction, but it wasn’t enough.

How was Flash supposed to move on from this? How did Peter?

* *Three days ago* *

The hope that the interest by the press would die down after the press conference had been a pipe dream.

Mr. Stark had finally convinced Aunt May to relocate to the tower for everyone’s safety and sanity.

Honestly, Peter was sure May agreed to the move simply because it would get him out of bed.

The joke was on her, though.

They’d grabbed a couple of duffle bags and Peter’s backpack for school and headed over. Tony and Pepper had prepared a guest room for Aunt May, and of course Peter already had his own space. And that is exactly where he headed when Aunt May went to drop her bags in her room.

... and Peter figured if he never left, it would be too soon.

* *Present Day* *

“Peter, come on, sweetheart. You can’t stay in bed forever. You’ll start growing mushrooms in your armpits if you don’t shower.”

“No, I won’t.” Peter mumbled into his pillow.

“Okay, well if you won’t get out of bed for me, will you get out of bed for someone else?” May pushed.”

“Tell Ned I’ll call‘im tomorrow.”

“It’s not Ned.”

“Tell MJ I’ll call‘er tomorrow.”

“It’s not MJ, sweetie.”

Peter grabbed an extra pillow and shoved it over his head. “Then tell whoever I’ll call them tomorrow!”

A familiar voice came from the doorway. “My grandma hasn’t gotten me a new cell phone yet, so you can’t call me tomorrow.”

Peter popped up from his hidey-hole, not even embarrassed by his state of grossness. “Flash?”

“Hey, Parker.” Flash greeted, shyly.

“Are you okay?” Peter noticed the fading bruise under his left eye. “I know your dad is in a bunch of trouble, but tell me he’s goin’ down for child abuse, too, please?”

Flash looked uncomfortable for Peter’s eagerness. “Um, yeah, he’s been charged so that’s a thing.”

“Cool, I’m glad to hear that.”

“And I’m going to be living with my grandma for a bit—just while everything is straightened out with my mom and the house and everything.”

Peter had remembered that from the text. “That’s good.”

“So, um, I’m wondering if I could get your phone number for when I, uh, get my new phone. I can’t really transfer stuff ‘cause my phone is in an evidence locker somewhere.”

It all felt so surreal. How could this be so easy for him?

“Um, Peter? It’s cool if you don’t want to--”

“Shit! No! Sorry—zoned out there for a second. Of course you can have my number! Just—“ Peter jumped out of his bed and rushed past Flash to his desk to grab a pen and paper.

“Geez, Parker, your aunt wasn’t joking about the mushrooms!” he teased as Peter scribbled his number down on an old math worksheet.

“Funny, Flash. Ha-ha.” He thrust the piece of paper into Flash’s hand. “There, but if you’re going to be a jerk, you can call Ned instead. I still haven’t beaten him at tic-tac-toe so he kind of deserves it.”

“Cute.”

“I thought so.”

Neither said anything for a bit. Peter had too many things he wanted to ask, and it seemed that Flash had secrets he’d wanted to keep.

“Can I tell you something?” Flash blurted out.

“Of course you can.” Peter answered. “You can tell me anything.”

“That’s good, ‘cause I really want to tell you how this all started.”

Peter assumed he was going to talk about the photos and the ‘anonymous’ press release revealing sordid fabrications, but no.

Flash started telling a story that was disjointed and already in progress, and that was okay. He’d probably told it in his head a million times, but out loud? This was most likely the first time...

Flash needed to be heard and Peter would listen.

“It had been a really bad night—for my parents, I mean. He hadn’t hit her, but he’d been so mean to her, and I could hear her cry... and it wasn’t even the first time, you know? It just sounded, I don’t know, sadder that night.

“I stayed in my room, ‘cause that’s what we do, but then my mom came in. I pretended to be asleep. I just couldn’t deal with it. I mean, it always feels like too much but that night...” Flash trailed off for a minute.

Peter let him take his time.

Flash sniffed and rubbed at his nose. “Anyways, she sat on my bed and whispered that she loved me... and then she said... she—she was so afraid I’d grow up to be like him, Peter, and...” He inhaled and then exhaled. “And I just couldn’t.

“I couldn’t be someone that my mom couldn’t love... and so I made a decision to change. I had to! And I knew that it had to start with you. I knew if I could redeem myself with you, then I had hope.”

“Wow, that’s terrifying deep, Flash.”

Flash ran his hand through his hair. “It is, and I’m glad to know you’re as freaked out by it as I am.”

Peter chuckled, “Aww, Flash. I knew we had something special...”

Flash gave him a playful shove. “Don’t be an ass. We’re having a moment here.”

And Peter nodded. “We are.”

“After all of this, a part of me wants to say that I wish I had never given you a chance to forgive me... that I was meant to play the villain forever, but I’d be lying. So...” Flash offered his hand. “Peter Parker, I’m not sure when I’m going to be back in town, but thank you. Thank you for forgiving me... even if you never said it. You showed it. And thank you for being an example of a decent human being. I didn’t have that so...” Flash rubbed his nose again.

Peter teared up, and took Flash’s offered hand. “Thank you, Flash Thompson, for trusting me, even if I didn’t understand why you needed it. You’re a good person, and I’m glad you’re my friend.”

The two stood there, hands clasped. Peter chuckled low, “Look at us, being all emotionally mature and not an MJ in sight. She’ll never believe it.”

Flash joined him. “You’re so right. Too bad we couldn’t take a picture”

Peter processed what Flash had said and groaned. “Too soon, man. Too soon.” With another chuckle and some playful shoves, they parted.

“I’m sorry to interrupt this bro moment, but Flash, you’re grandmother says it’s time to go.” May called from the door.

“Okay, May, we’re coming.” Peter said. “Just give us a minute, ‘kay?”

“Alright, don’t be too long though. She’s worried about traffic.” She replied and then left them again.

“I still haven’t apologized for my dad, Peter. I’m so sorry for everything—“ Flash rushed out.

“Nope.” Peter interrupted him. “No apologizing for him. You are not responsible for the decisions other people make. And besides, you can’t choose your blood, but you can still choose your family, right?”

Flash thought about it for a second before agreeing. “Right.”

Peter looked at the door, then back at Flash. “So I guess this is it for now—you’ll call as soon as you get your new number, right?”

“I will.”

“And you won’t join any AcaDec teams so we don’t have to crush your dreams in any future competitions, right?”

Flash smiled and shook his head ‘no.’

Then Peter nodded in satisfaction. “Then you’ll be fine.”

Flash smiled wider then. “Yes, I will be.”

... and eventually, he was.

@febuwhump

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2021 #fanfiction #irondad and spiderson

4 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #312

“robert’s got a quick hand / he’ll look around the room, he won’t tell you his plan.”

Do you kiss your pets? Yes. Have you thought about whether or not you're gay? I actually have briefly questioned if I'm just purely lesbian due to how incredibly averse to simply seeing penises I am, but considering I'm still perfectly capable of being attracted to everything else, I'm obviously not. It's just this weird disgust I naturally have. Have you ever had gay thoughts for your best friend? Well I dated her, so like- Have you ever had an STD? No. Would you say you are addicted to texting or to the person you are texting? Nah, definitely not. I always enjoy texting Sara, but I'm not addicted to doing so. Would you date someone who still lived with their parents? Yes; I still live with my mom, so it'd be very hypocritical not to. Would you have to sleep with someone before marrying them? Nah. Sexual "talent" just doesn't matter very much to me, and besides, before or after marriage, you discover what you like together. Would it bother you if your bf/gf flirted with someone else? ???????????? yes????????????? Would you enjoy a night of playing video games? Oh hell yeah. I honestly really miss doing that with Jason. We were both gamers and would do that frequently. How much does intelligence turn you on? Not like, immensely, but being very smart is definitely attractive. Do you search someone on the Internet before a first date? That shit's kinda creepy, imo. Then again, it could be smart for your safety, but idk, something about doing that seems invasive and just weird. I feel like you should learn things directly from their mouth. Could you date someone who had children from a previous relationship? I really don't think I could at this age, at least. I need to be more stable and a figure to look up to. I could probably be a stepmom to like, a teenager or something, but I'm not dating anyone with one of those at only 25. I would have to really, REALLY like the person to even consider dating them with a younger kid. Would you consider donating your body to science after you die? Yeah, go for it. Do you like to be friends with someone before dating them? Yes, definitely. I think waiting too long can make this hard and an awkward change, though; this was the exact situation with Girt. I had a pretty big crush on him my freshman year before Jason, but we were just friends too long. He became my "brother." Is it more fun to go out just with your date or on a group date? Both are fun. Do you enjoy risk? N O P E. How often do you go dancing/clubbing? Never. Not my jam. Do you meditate? No, but I'm considering trying it thanks to group therapy. Have you ever been fired from a job? No. Do you have a problem with racist jokes? Um, fuck yes I do. Is there anything you think science will never be able to explain? Yeah, like the soul. Do you cook fancy meals for dates? Lol no, I can't cook. Do you litter? No. Don't even fucking dare to in front of me. Do you have a career plan? Yes. Could you live with someone who was really messy? How messy? And would they listen if I asked them to clean up? Do you have any shameful fantasies? Yes. Is art important to you? Art is absoluely vital for my happiness in life. Do you believe in fate or destiny? Nope; you carve your own path. Have you ever called your friend a slut? Ha, jokingly. It's gone both ways. Doing nothing all day makes you feel...? That's me pretty much every day, and it makes me feel awful by the end of it. Do you shower everyday? No. It's bad for your skin and hair. Is work important to you? It clearly is when you consider how stressed I've been for years trying to find a job I can handle. Have you had cosmetic surgery? No, but I probably will have some things done if/hopefully when I lose the weight I want to. Do you only date people who have jobs or are full-time students? My past has proven that not always, no. What I really care about is whether or not they show the intention of getting somewhere, like working on themselves and having plans they're making baby steps towards. If the person is without any motivation to get somewhere in life, no, I can't date them. Could you date someone who does drugs? Absofuckinglutely not. Do you enjoy watching sports? Only dance. Are you a cat or a dog person? Cat, I think, but I love both. Should evolution be taught in schools? Yes, definitely. Separation of church and state, my friend. Are you kinky? I mean I can't say I'm unwilling to try some things that would be considered so, but my sexual experiences so far have been pretty vanilla, and I'm fine with that. Would you do a striptease for your partner? That'd be so fucking awkward lmao. Would you date someone who doesn't have a car? Yeah; again, I don't. It may be problematic if they never wanted to, especially with me being so afraid of driving, but idk. Do you enjoy dancing? If I wasn't so horribly out of shape. Do you think men should pay for everything on dates? Lol, wow. What year are we in again? Have you ever met someone in person you met online? Only Sara so far, but I do wanna meet a few others! Last person you kissed, are they into any type of sports? Which ones? No. Do you ever read your old surveys? No. They're really just a momentary distraction for me. What was the last series you finished watching? Do you have any plans to begin another? Ginga Densetsu Weed was fantastic. I'm now anxiously awaiting Meerkat Manor to come on air again this year!! :') When writing stories, do you have trouble coming up with character names or do they come to you easily? I struggle with coming up with completely original names; I used to be good at it back in the day, now I feel like almost anything I come up with sounds stupid. Real words coming up for OCs that somehow fit them come easy for me, though. Did you ever call any teachers by their first name? Who? Yes, because some preferred it. Have you ever shoplifted, even just once? What did you take? Nope. Have you ever witnessed someone else shoplifting? Did you say something? I don't recall. Is your hair thick, thin, or somewhere in between? it's thick as hell. Do you own a bean bag chair? No. Have you ever touched a caterpillar? Oh yes, I loved letting the harmless ones wander over my arms as a kid. Is there a YouTube channel whose videos you always watch? No. What a shocker when you think of Mark, I know, but I've kinda been drifting from enjoying let's plays, especially of random games I don't know or think will be good, so I don't force myself. Have you ever witnessed something burn down? Yes. Diagonal to my childhood house, down the road, there was a huge house fire once. Only the foundation of it is left today. Well, maybe they've rebuilt it, but they sure didn't for a long-ass time. Have you ever won a game of chess? Don't know how to play, so. Have you ever picked strawberries or apples? Strawberries, yes. Are you any good at Ping-Pong? No better than the average joe. Have you ever had to put an animal to sleep? Three dogs, and my rat Tezzeret. Where on your body did you/would you like to get your first tattoo? I got mine on my right wrist. What’re some movies you love that people wouldn’t expect you to like? The Notebook surprises a lot of people. I adore that movie. Does your shower have a glass screen or a curtain? It's a curtain. What was the last pill you swallowed? I don't remember; I take a lot of meds in the morning. Where’s your dad from? Ohio. Other than yourself, who was the last person that took a picture of you? Whoever took the picture of my sister Misty and me hugging. What are you usually doing if you're up late at night? On the rare occasion I'm up late, I'm probably really into doing something in World of Warcraft at the time. I go through spells. Right now I'm barely playing it at all. What do you get when you go to the movies? Popcorn and a drink, always. Do/did you enjoy living with your parents? Yeah. If you were to write a story right now, what would it be about? I'm not interested in starting a new story. The continuous stories in RP are enough for me. If you were to paint something right now, what would it be? I'm unsure. I have a lot of art ideas I want to do, but idk what I'd do first, and besides, I prefer drawing over painting. Do you believe you have a calling? I don't believe in "callings." I believe in natural talents, but I don't feel there's some supernatural or purposeful tactic to it. If you could sing a song before an audience today, what one would it be? Oh god. If I had a choice, I wouldn't. If I didn't, I'd have to think more about this. Do you enjoy public speaking? Fuck no. What pet do you want to have? The pet I want most right now is a plains/western hognose, probably of the lavender morph. I adore those lil piggies. Who do you want to be in your life that is currently not? I go back-and-forth about Jason, even though I know it wouldn't be healthy for me for him to have any part in it. PTSD is a motherfucker. Who do you want to be out of your life that currently is in it? Nobody. What do you have to do to achieve your dream? Most likely for someone(s) with considerable influence or popularity in art to highlight photograph(s) of mine. It's why I enter competitions once in a blue moon if Mom's okay with paying the small fee; it's very, very seldom I even ask, though. I hate asking for things, especially non-necessities with our financial position. Are you ambitious? I think so. I'm determined as a motherfucker to be successful with photography, for one. Do you sell things online? Extremely rarely. Speaking of which, I keep forgetting to take pictures of my flute and guitar since I wanna try to get rid of them. I never played the guitar much, and my sentimental affection for my flute has long since faded, so I might as well make a bit of cash off them to go towards Venus' terrarium upgrade. Do you look the way you want to look? Hell no. Do you pray daily? I never do. Have you been through anything traumatic? Oh yes. Have you ever had a crush on a teacher? No. What is a medical condition you used to have but don't anymore? I had this very weird spell of frequent vertigo that kinda just... vanished. Do you look your age? I suppose I do. What has made you itch the most? Shaving my legs I guess, considering I would scratch them so badly it left me with permanent scars. Is there anything you're avoiding? If so, what? Probably. Well enough that I can't even think of it right now, haha. What quality do you admire most in others? Empathy. Do you believe that things will get better? Yes. I hope. Have you ever seen a double rainbow? I have. How old were you when you started swearing? I was in the 7th grade. I don't know the actual age group for that. Do you have any Indian in your blood? No. What is your favorite sunset color? Pink. Have you ever had dreadlocks? No. Have you ever wondered if your house was haunted? Two houses ago, yes. Does the idea of having servants bother you? Yes? Do you like crab? NOOOOOO NO NO. It's mushy and just ew. What song gives you chills? Hell, most music I listen to can. I get chills from music very, very easily, and I'd say either "Terrible Things" by Mayday Parade or Disturbed's "Sound of Silence" cover does it the best, but I could very well be forgetting one. Ah, Bad Wolves' cover of "Zombie" is another very high contender, especially knowing the story behind it with how the original singer was supposed to write it with them, but the day of scheduled recording, she died. What color is your favorite hoodie? It's mostly gray, just with a Pikachu graphic on it. Do you have a string of lights in your room? No, but I've always thought those were really pretty. If you were a writer, would you have a pen name or use your real name? My real name. What is your friend's cat's name? Sara has a cat named Winter. Did you ignore the last Facebook post that bothered you, or did you comment? Probably rolled my eyes and scrolled by just to avoid conflict. I normally have to be HEATED to start something. If you were a famous singer, what would you want your hit song to be about? Peace, most likely. Do you have a blog? No. Do you think you are good at writing poetry? I think so, but it takes more thinking than it used to. Do you take gummy vitamins? No, but I wish I took vitamins. Would probably do me some good. If you could do research right now for an essay, what topic would you choose to write about? Hm. I'm always up for arguing for LGBT rights. There's a good handful of topics I'd enjoy writing about, though. Have you ever been tempted to commit a crime? Well, I've pirated things before, so... I kinda crossed that threshold. Other than that, no, not to my memory. Have you ever started writing a suicide letter? I wrote one and am forever humiliated by it. ...and then realized you wanted to live? No, I OD'd afterwards. Well wait... I was kinda on the line I guess, considering once I did it, I panicked and told Mom. If you have a class ring, what color is the stone? I didn't get one. Do you like apple cider hot or cold? I can't remember the last time I had either. Do you use window clings (stickers for your window)? No. Have you ever found a secret compartment? I don't remember ever finding one anywhere. Do you read horror stories? Sometimes RP pretty much turns into horror stories, haha. Do you ever comfort eat? I am VERY bad at that. Do you have your wedding planned in your head already? No, only skeletal basics of it. Does sunlight make you happier? Yes. This is a scientific fact. Do you feel depressed in the winter? No. What's your favorite shade of green? Like a pastel mint color. What channel is your TV usually on? Mom always has Netflix or Hulu on, I think. Do you drive with the windows down or the air on? I strongly prefer AC. How many pairs of jeans do you have? Zero. Do you sleep with a comforter or quilt? A comforter. Who is your favorite American president? I don't know nearly enough about any of 'em to make a fair judgment. Do you jump right in a pool or do you get in slowly? Whew, my jumping in the pool days are long over. Do you use one swimsuit for the summer or do you have many? I just have a single black one-piece. Do you use the bumpers when you bowl? Nah. Sorta affects the fun for me since it's less reason to focus. Do you put eyeliner on the top, bottom, or all around your eyes? All around. Will you refuse to listen to music if you find the lyrics degrading? Depends on how degrading, but usually, it doesn't play a part in deciding if I like the song itself or not. Can you do a cartwheel? I never even tried; I was always too afraid of breaking my neck. Do you have tornadoes where you live? Occasionally, but they're not a big thing here. What's your favorite type of frosting? Chocolate. What's the most expensive crafts tool that you own? Miss Tobey got me a big pack of Prismacolor pencils one year that I really cherish. Have you ever woven baskets of any kind (wicker, paper, cardboard etc.)? No. What's the most exotic spice in your spice rack? I don't have the slightest clue. Do you have a favorite television host? Steve Harvey is The Shit. What's something you're opinionated and very vocal about? LGBTQ+ rights and the pro-choice ideology lead the bunch. The lack of morality in hunting for sport, too. What's something you regularly order online? Nothing regularly. Do you like elevators? No; quite the opposite, actually. When you're angry, does it ever get physical? Absolutely not. What's the weirdest video YouTube has suggested to you? I don't really know. I'm certain I've seen some wild suggestions, though, given just how much of a heavy user I am of YT. Do you like the smell of tar? Ugh, no. Never understood that. Do you have any flags on display? If so, what flag(s)? I'd like a rainbow flag for my room to hang somewhere.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''pumped up kicks'' by 3teeth

2 notes · View notes

mnthpprt · 4 years

Text

Chapter 31: A Devil By Any Other Name

The theatre is already full when we arrive, but the best seats are reserved for le Comte and me. From our box, we can oversee the crowd below, eagerly awaiting the start of the play. As the lights dim, I pull out a cigarillo and quickly light it with my red plastic clipper, hidden from view. Soon, the audience in front of us becomes enveloped by darkness, their chatter dying down to a dead silence as the curtains begin to open.

They reveal a woman. She sits alone on a wooden chair on the left side of the stage, which has been made to look like the interior of a humble home. She glances to the other side, nervous, as the chants of an angry mob grow louder. They enter from the right, carrying pitchforks and torches, and begin to pound on the detached door that separates them from the other half of the stage.

Meanwhile, the woman pours salt on the floor, drawing a circle, and falls to her knees in front of it. It is not God that she prays to, no. Instead, she summons a tall man in a black cape and a mask made of a goat’s skull, who appears through a trapdoor on the floor amidst a puff of smoke, earning a few gasps from the audience. The Devil is here.

She has been accused of witchcraft, she tells him through tears of desperation, and the villagers want to burn her at the stake. And so, she sells her soul in exchange for shelter in order to escape such a horrible fate. The Devil, having agreed to hide her, extends his hand to the witch. The second she takes it, the theatre grows dark once again. This is the end of the first act.

During the brief pause, I turn to le Comte. He has been completely absorbed by the play, just as I was.

“Interesting story, isn’t it, my chérie?” he leans down to whisper. I agree with a nod.

“I heard he only writes about things he has seen,” I say in the same tone. I believe it, though clearly there is more metaphor than pure fact in the script. “Who do you think this one is about?”

“I have a pretty good idea...” I look at him, tilting my head. He does not take his golden eyes off the stage. I guess he anticipates my question, because he dismisses his own answer before it ever leaves his mouth. “But it’s still too soon to tell.”

I narrow my eyes. I wonder what he’s truly thinking, what he is refusing to tell me. Before I can probe any further, however, the curtains open again.

This time, the witch and the Devil are alone on the stage, with him holding onto her protectively. The set has changed to look like a dark cave, decorated with luxurious furniture in what looks like an attempt to make it look like an expensive home. No, not any home. Hell. The Devil’s realm. I must admit, whoever worked on the props did an amazing job setting the mood.

Le Comte remains completely silent for the rest of the play, even during the brief breaks between the five acts. I make no attempt to talk to him, to ask him more questions, for I know that he will not provide the answers I want. I see his jaw clench when he notices me observing him. He’s hiding something.

Meanwhile, the witch is welcomed into Hell as the Devil’s special guest. She is hesitant and scared, at first, but quickly becomes accustomed to her new living situation. The Devil treats her kindly, cares for her as part of the deal, and soon she falls in love with him. At some point there is a monologue during which the actress laments that she has given him his soul, and debates with herself whether she should give him her heart as well, ultimately concluding that, despite her feelings, it would be too dangerous.

Back on her little cottage, the villagers search for her, to no avail. Time passes, only for the witch who disappeared to have become a legend. She sees that, from Hell, and deems it safe to go back, so she decides to ask the Devil to let her go. He has completed his part of the deal, she tells him, and now it is time for her to return.

The Devil laughs. There is a slight problem, he says, menacingly stroking her cheek. Her soul is his forever, which means she can never leave. She uselessly fights to escape, but ends up bound by chains beside the Devil’s throne. When he leaves her alone, there is another monologue. The witch is determined to get back at him for taking not only her soul, but her life as well. In order to attain revenge, she will play along, seduce him. The play ends with her having become the queen of Hell, ruling beside the Devil like the Persephone to his Hades, but visibly unhappy. It is a tragic fate, to be trapped in the role of his unwilling lover for all eternity.

The curtains close, obscuring the image of the Devil smiling under his mask, a terrible laugh echoing across the theatre, as a single tear falls down the witch’s cheek. When they open again, the cast lines up to take a bow, revelling in the audience clamor. I clap, and glance to my side to see le Comte doing the same.

“That was really good,” I say in an attempt to prompt some words out of him. It doesn’t work.

“Hm,” he nods thoughtfully. Okay, I need to know what this is about. Asking him would be useless, so I wait until most of the audience has left to make my way towards the stage. I can hear the actors celebrate their success from the wings. Once there is no one but le Comte and me in the theatre, I climb onto the stage.

“Hey! Guillaume!”

The main actress peeks her head from behind the curtain. She looks a lot taller from here, practically towering over me. She takes a look at the seating to check if everyone has left before disappearing again behind the heavy fabric. The curtains open, this time clumsily pulled away by some of the actors.

“There’s a woman looking for you,” I hear the actress say to Shakespeare, ushering him forward. He smiles when he sees me.

“Anaïs, my dear!” He takes my hand ad tries to bring it to his lips in his usual greeting, but I use the gesture to pull him towards me, standing on my toes to peck both his cheeks like I would with everyone else.

“I loved the play. Looks like the audience did, too, congratulations,” I chuckle, amused by the surprised expression on his face. He recovers quickly, wrapping his arm around my waist as I turn to the cast, that observe me with mild curiosity. “You were all fantastic. And you,” I point at the lead, the tall woman that played the witch. “Girl, you were amazing. I almost cried at the end.”

“Aw, thank you!” she laughs. “I’m Bernadette, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

Le Comte, who has been standing to the side, steps forward to congratulate Shakespeare on the play. I give them some space to talk, deciding to mingle with the actors instead, but their conversation is over quickly.

“I should head home. Have a good evening, Guillaume,” le Comte says before looking at me. “Shall we, ma chérie?”

“We were thinking of going to a tavern to celebrate,” Bernadette interrupts before I can answer, a friendly smile on her freckled face. “Needles to say, since you are friends of Guillaume, you are both invited. What do you say?”

“Count me in,” I smile. Le Comte politely excuses himself, something about him having work to do at the mansion. We leave shortly after him, once the actors have changed out of their costumes.

Our destination is conveniently placed right beside the theatre. It is much larger than the one I went to with Arthur and Theo, but the atmosphere is the same. We make our way to the back, and the men from the troupe join a few tables together to allow seating for the entire group. I pick a spot on the bench in the corner, next to where Shakespeare has left his coat.

“I would like thou to meet someone, my sweet rose,” he tells me. When I look up from adjusting my dress, I notice a young man that wasn’t at the theatre. “This is my friend, Antonio.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The newcomer greets me with a nod and a charming smile that reminds me of Mozart’s when we were at the ball. He has an accent strong enough for me to place.

“Likewise, Antonio. Italiano?” I ask, tilting my head. His smile grows wider with amusement.

“Sì. Tu lo parli? (Yes. Do you speak it?)”

“Ehh, solo un po’, ma capisco quasi tutto (Only a little, but I understand almost everything),” I humbly reply, shuffling to the side to make space for him. “Sono spagnola (I’m Spanish).”

“That’s... actually decent,” he replies, surprised.

Shakespeare, who I hadn’t noticed leave, returns with a large tray full of champagne glasses and an uncorked bottle.

“I want to thank you all for your hard work, and for being the best troupe in all of France,” he declares. “For the rest of the night, drinks are on me!”

His announcement is met with cheering from the actors, who quickly serve themselves a drink. The man who played the Devil, whose name I have forgotten, passes me two glasses from across the table. I give one to Antonio.

“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players,” he continues, raising his champagne. “To the best players I have ever had the pleasure to work with!”

“And to the best director!” The tall actor chimes in with a surprisingly boyish smile. The rest of the group echo that sentiment before we all drink. After taking a sip, Shakespeare finally makes his way around the table and sits down beside me, effectively trapping me on the bench between him and Antonio.

“Did I mention Anaïs here is an outstanding dancer?”

“No, Guillaume, don’t make this about me,” I complain, blushing.

“It’s true!” he laughs. “I saw her with mine own eyes, with none other than Wolfram Theophilus Perti. That ball surely was something, dost thou not agree, my rose?”

"Are you wearing perfume? It smells lovely!” I change the topic, elbowing him under the table. I lean closer to ‘smell’ him, but whisper in his ear instead. “What game are you playing, William?”

He smiles innocently, fully aware that I’m not buying it for a second, but I play along. It is too late, however, for Antonio has already heard what he said.

“You know Perti?” he asks, looking at me with wide eyes. “Are you his friend?”

“Something like that,” I answer, taking a large sip of champagne. “We live together.”

“Ooh, lucky girl!” Bernadette chimes in from across the table. “I watched him perform once, and my God, he is beaucoup trop jolie! The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

“I know, right?” I giggle. Though I have recovered most of my strength, I can still feel the effects of my recent blood loss. The alcohol is certainly getting to me a lot faster, making my cheeks burn red. I notice Antonio staring intensely at me, but I don’t know what to make of it. “Why, do you know him too?”

“N-no,” he stutters, unconvincingly. “I am just an admirer of his work.”

Normally, I would find his reaction at least a slight bit suspicious, but my tipsy brain chucks it down as him being a flustered fan, so I don’t give it much thought.

“So, how do you know Guillaume?” I ask, trying to make conversation. Antonio’s eyes focus behind me, I guess exchanging a look with the subject of my inquiry.

“We have a friend in common,” he simply says. That statement means nothing to me. From what I’ve seen, ‘Guillaume’ is friends with everybody.

I leave it alone for the rest of the evening, talking to the actors instead. Bernadette is surprisingly hilarious, and the one who played the Devil, whose name I now know is Timothée, is a total sweetheart. He is the youngest of the troupe, barely nineteen, and the reason he was chosen for the role is that he was the only one tall enough to wear the costume, but he did an astounding job. Regardless, the rest of the actors still tease him like a little brother.

When the time to leave arrives, Shakespeare kindly finds me a carriage to go back to the mansion. I say goodbye to the rest of the group and step out into the street, only accompanied by him. He opens the door for me and helps me climb into the carriage, and I politely thank him. Before I shut the door, though, I pull him closer.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do, Will, but whatever it is, stop it,” I tell him, suddenly serious.

“Whatever dost thou mean, my rose?. 'Tis merely a favour for a friend,” he says, his melodic voice seeping low through his smile. I narrow my eyes at him, wondering what that favor could be.

“Are you pimping me out?” I gasp, incredulous. He just laughs and shakes his head, but does not correct me.

“Farewell, Anaïs.”

And with that, he pulls away, shuts the door between us, and slaps the roof of the carriage, signalling the driver to start moving. I glare at him through the window, unsatisfied with how the conversation ended, until he is out of sight. With a tired sigh, I sink into the stiff leather seat and close my eyes. It’s been a long day.

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #ikevamp #ikemen #ikemen fanfiction #ikevam fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikemen vampire comte #ikevamp comte #ikemen vampire shakespeare #ikevamp shakespeare

13 notes · View notes

simpingforthehunt · 3 years

Text

The Mourner's Kaddish

This episode is my favourite for many reasons. The Hunt introduction was really funny and well filmed. I really love music, and this was an episode I could kind of connect with because of that. Although, do not get me started on how AWFUL Take a Chance by ABBA is. Love ABBA, hate that song specifically. The slow uncovering of a bigger plan, especially at the last scene of the episode. Lastly, Roxy. I elaborate on that in this post.

Masterlist

Warnings:

Antisemitism (obviously), Spoilers for the show

Characters:

Jonah - This is the episode where he's proper introduced to The Hunt, and the darkness. It's overwhelming for him, and while he knew they killed it was still traumatic to watch. I liked the dynamics between Jonah and each character in this episode. Jonah had gone through so much already in the show, and he's lost. The Hunt is something that soon will become a family for him, but for now they scare the hell out of him.

Lonny - Portrayed by Josh Radnor.

I love Lonny, and this episode gave a fantastic introduction to him. Josh Radnor, especially, was the perfect casting choice. He's the comic relief character, and yet still has such an interesting backstory that makes him even more fun to watch. Lonny was the first one of The Hunt to warm up to Jonah and accept him, calling him a Jew-per hero (which still kills me whenever I hear it, that's so funny). I also really love how Lonny kind of becomes Jonah's big brother in the group.

Roxy - Portrayed by Tiffany Boone.

Every single time I see Tiffany Boone on screen, I gay panic. She's not only extremely beautiful, she's insanely talented. There's so much about Roxy we don’t know, and so much I want to find out. We knew she has a daughter, and that Meyer is paying her while she's in The Hunt. But what's her backstory? Is there more to the reason she joined? There's so much about her that needs to be unraveled.

Joe - Portrayed by Louis Ozawa.

He's got a hard exterior, and for good reason. Joe fought in the Vietnam War, and his trauma affects him daily. Of course, we don’t know that about Joe quite yet. All we see of him is this guarded asshole that hates Jonah immediately. Like Roxy, there isn’t much we know about his backstory but I'm excited to see more of it in S2.

Harriet - Portrayed by Kate Mulvany.

I still don't know what to think of Harriet, but I definitely don’t trust her. Obviously more of that will be explained as I continue with this series, but she’s already mysterious. Views Jonah as a child because he did live a pretty guarded life. I do generally like her, but I want to know more about this double agent thing or whatever’s going on. I have a feeling she’ll grow soft for The Hunt, and choose to be with them after everything.

Mindy - Portrayed by Carol Kane.

Words will never fully describe my love for Carol Kane. I have seen her in multiple different roles, and she’s absolutely incredible! Mindy becoming Jonah’s sort of adoptive Bubbe after Ruth passes is really heartwarming, and as time goes on you see Jonah trusting her and Murray the most. I also love how they wrote her as the stereotypical grandmother, it’s so funny!

Murray - Portrayed by Saul Rubinek.

Murray will forever remain one of my favourite characters, and I love how he becomes the Zayde that Jonah never had. Murray and Mindy’s old married couple relationship is absolutely perfect and they’re so cute. For one of the few romantic relationships present in the show, it’s perfect.

Meyer - Last post I talked about him being Dumbledore, but I never touched on my thoughts on that *twist* at the end. I will get more into it when we get to that episode, but I notice a lot of people think that the twist was lazy. Everyone’s entitled to their opinion, but I personally don’t think it was. Lazy would be pulling a “Gossip Girl” and deciding who The Wolf is last minute. They took the time to think it through, and it was clear. Within the subtle foreshadowing of the eventual reveal, and the moments where you second-guess the thought of him not being Meyer - even during a rewatch - I think it was really well done. Sure, when push comes to shove it was predictable, but I personally think from a creative and writing standpoint it was well done.

Millie - I feel like most Millie analyses will be me just simping over her, but I really love her character. The way she draws conclusions, and finds the truth is really amazing and I’m so glad to see a character like her for once. Usually, they’ll make character's dumb enough that even the obvious will make you want to scream at them, but I find it so satisfying to watch Millie and root for her because she’s really good at her job.

What I liked:

The opening scene was honestly kinda cool. They did force the prisoners to play music in the camps irl, and I like the choice of Hava Nagila.

The fact that they named the Bat Mitzvah girl Ruchel after Jonah mentioned the over-the-pants handjob from Ruchel Rubenstein

Why the used a Bat Mitzvah for the introduction is beyond me but it worked So Well

Like come on

Come Pray with Me

A Couple of Chabad-Asses

The fact that all Joe did was look at the camera

I’m gay and Roxy made me panic

Lonny in general

The Matchmaker scene followed by Matchmaker from Fiddler on the Roof (hey, I’m a theatre gay XD)

“That’s the Jewist shit I’ve ever heard”

I died when Lonny said “Judah Macca-bro”

RATED J FOR JEWTASTIC

Roxy teasing Jonah about the codebreaker thing

Finding out Millie’s a lesbian I went !!!!! on the inside

What I didn’t like:

There’s some tired tropes, and one of them is viewing the newbie as a kid

Like,,, it makes sense for Harriet

But other than that I’m like: dislike that he’s a part of it, but approach it differently. Y’know?

Holstedder SLAMS THE PIANO KEYS

It hurts me

Like obviously he’s softer on them throughout

But there are moments where you can HEAR the piano strings straining because he’s hitting them too hard

I love music and especially piano, so whenever someone does that it hurts

Travis

I do not need to elaborate on that

The Hansel and Gretel thing

It makes sense, and ruined my childhood

Why this specific thing wasn't okay:

In the camps, the dentists only pulled the GOLD teeth from either the alive Jews or the gassed ones. So the tin full of teeth personally made me uncomfy and it was just a bit much.

Explaining specific things the best I can:

The Mourner’s Kaddish is said in honour of the deceased. Only people that are grieving based on the yahrzeit (anniversary) stand while reciting it. My synagogue sings it rather than speaks it, but it depends on the synagogue.

Theories:

I think Sommers is still alive.

Okay so we see Travis leave his place, clearly having killed and cleaned up a crime scene. However, Sommers is only labelled missing. I feel like there’s more to his story and his partnership with Millie. I just hope they at least pick up his storyline for a couple episodes to close it off.

#hunters amazon prime

2 notes · View notes

hattywatch · 5 years

Text

J. Vesey - Love Songs Companion Piece

Originally posted by knosi

Author's Note: This is a companion piece to Love Songs. I don't think anyone needed or asked for this, but here it is, because when I was writing the first part, all I kept thinking was Kevin getting the photos of her dress and immediately texting Jimmy, so this is what you all ended up with. This is for @HockeyandTaylorSwift while she's off her feet for a while. Send her some love! Excuse the formatting, I did this in HTML

He doesn't get it. Doesn't get why she's crying, doesn't get why this is such a big deal, doesn't get why he's in a suit he hates and a tie he'd rather shove back in his closet, doesn't get why he's dropped a small fortune inside a $7 card from Target, but he knows it's the right thing to do… and there's an open bar. So here he is, sat in a pew in a church with no air conditioning with his best friend and his best friend's cousin, who he's had a crush on since puberty.

There's probably 100 other ways he'd rather spend his Saturday.

When she sniffles, Jimmy can’t help but look over. He wants to roll his eyes, but he also wants to kiss her, so he settles for safe, leaving his gaze on the bride and groom- who are reading their vows off of the little index cards in their hand.

Kevin chirps her and if he was waiting for an opening to talk to her, this is it. Jimmy leans in before he can stop himself, always caught in her orbit, "What are you even crying for? Shouldn't you be happy?" When she rolls her eyes, he wonders for a second if he's crossed a line, made her upset with him, but she catches his eye once more and gives him a watery smile while she blots at her tears so he's probably okay.

Cocktail hour is spent stood at a table, eating fancy cheeses that sound nicer than they taste, listening to Kevin and his cousin chat about nothing in particular. He interjects a few times when they bicker, taking her side over Kevin's, always. Finally everyone is funnelled into the main room for the reception.

Kevin's been scoping out this pretty bridesmaid since the second she walked down the aisle hours ago and it's all about to come to a head. "Well, I'm going to go make my move. My cousin is over at the bar," he points,"if you wanted to suddenly find your balls, man," he pats Jimmy on the shoulder sardonically. He hates that Kev's a little right, so he sneers but lets him walk away unharmed.

Jimmy eyes the table full of escort cards in the corner and scoops up his and hers, tucking them into his jacket pocket. Kevin can go get his on his own, since he wants to be a prick. It's probably time to take advantage of the open bar, and really, (y/n) is already over there, so two birds one stone and all.

In a moment of bravery, marked by clammy palms and a little bit of heartburn, he sidles up next to her at the bar. His hand gently slides along the smooth skin of her lower back, exposed by her dress. She looks over, and appears surprised to see him there. He's come this far, so he leans into her ear and plows through the best he can.

"Hey, use your powers for good and get me a beer. I don't want to wait in line." She still seems a little shocked that he's there, but orders his beer anyway. It's not until he sees her throw a flirty smile at the bartender that he realizes he may be cramping her style and regrets it all, suddenly remorseful for taking Kevin's advice.

He doesn't think she knows where she should be, considering he has her table assignment in his pocket, so he leaves his hand where it lies and directs her towards their table, praying silently she can't feel the sweat on his palm and trying to figure out something to say. He's better at this in a group, but now all her attention is on him and it makes his skin prickle self consciously.

"I grabbed yours too," is what he finally comes up with when he gets her to their table. Ivy league education and he can barely talk to the girl he likes. Pathetic.

"Thanks," she says to the floor as she finally kicks off her ridiculous heels. He wants to keep talking, make her laugh and smile and stay by his side all night. He's not sure what he could say that would have that effect, but it's probably not what he says next.

"Why do you wear those things if you can't even handle them for an hour?"

He's not sure why he's always ribbing her. Probably because she always takes his joking in stride, always knows when he's kidding even though he stays stoic. She gets his humor, gets him, he thinks and his chest tightens unhelpfully.

(Y/n) sits back up and clinks her champagne glass against his beer, unaffected by his question.

"Because they make my ass look fantastic," that has him choking on his beer and he relaxes, drops his guard and unclenches his jaw. She makes him laugh, comfortable and loose, when usually he holds his emotions close to his chest.

She isn’t wrong about the heels, and he thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind that she may be flirting with him. Surely that's carte blanche to take a peek when she stands up. He’s not completely sure though, so he lets her drink her champagne in peace and watches Kevin.

It must be nice to be Kevin, he thinks. Kevin doesn’t have a self conscious bone in his body- loud and unapologetic. He’s dancing like an idiot with that bridesmaid from earlier. Jimmy’s envious. He just walked right up to her, probably even said something stupid like, “Hey, I’m Kevin,” and now they’re like old friends, close on the dance floor. He’d never be able to do something so bold. Jimmy can’t help it, he’s always been a little more reserved, shy even- especially when she’s around.

Not when he’s on the ice, though. He feels confident there at least.

He wishes he could take off his skates and helmet and not simultaneously undress himself of his confidence. He can feel her gaze on him. She’s sitting there, gently sipping from her flute, he doesn’t suspect that she knows he can feel her stare.

She's been around forever. He remembers when they were young, hanging out in the bleachers hip to hip watching Kevin skate around, cheering for the older boy's team. He remembers when he hit puberty, suddenly becoming more self-conscious around girls and slowly realizing that he liked her differently. It was warm and it started somewhere around his chest and dripped down his whole body, heating him up and tying his tongue. Whenever she came around he always lost his edges, stumbling over himself.

The beer is settling his nerves a little, so he bucks up and says what's on his mind. "I don't get this whole thing," he waves his hand around, at the room in general.

She looks confused and rolls her hand on her wrist, asking him to continue.

He breathes deep, relaxing at the idea of a normal conversation. This he can do, he's good at having opinions, good at engaging in a little debate, not so good at being cool and smooth, but he'll work with what he has.

"Seems like a lot of pomp and circumstance to prove you love someone." She laughs and that's not exactly the response he was expecting, but he'd play the fool forever if it meant he'd always get to see her like this, eyes scrunched and nose crinkled, smile spanning her face.

"Jimmy, sometimes when two people really like each other they just wanna shout it from the rooftops." He rolls his eyes, but she looks like she really believes it. The way she’s looking at him right now, he’s pretty sure he could be convinced to make his way to the rooftop with a megaphone himself.

Kevin sinks down next to her, sweaty and breathless, "I think I'm in love," his eyes are still focused on the bridesmaid. She knows what she’s doing, peering back at him flirtatiously as she dances with the flower girls. (Y/n)'s eyes shine with the knowledge that she's won.

"Case and point, my friend."

He honestly just needs a minute. Sitting here with her is overwhelming. She's too much: too beautiful, too funny, too sweet, and probably too perceptive. She has to know he's different with her around, less cool, less calm, and less smart. So, he finishes his beer and -like everything he does in life- coats himself in a thin layer of sarcasm, "Had about enough of you softies," before getting up and heading over to the bar. He doesn't turn back to see if she's watching him, she probably forgot the second he walked away.

The bartender knows his order and hands him another beer, but looks past Jimmy for something else, "Where's your girl?"

Jimmy likes the way that sounds, so he can't bring himself to correct the innocent bystander that she is not, and will likely never be, his girl. So he does what any mature person would do and lets himself pretend. "Her feet hurt. Heels, ya know? Lemme get her another champagne?"

He throws a twenty into the tip jar before he heads back to the table, high on the idea that anyone could picture them as a pair.

He intercepts her and Kevin on their way to the bar, and doesn't miss how her eyes size him up with appraisal as he hands her the drink. Kevin on the other hand is less impressed. "Dude, hello?" Jimmy's still floating on the fact that (y/n) was clearly pleased with him as she takes small, delicate sips of champagne so he allows his usual banter with Kevin to shine through as he shrugs at his friend, "Bar's that way. Cheers, bro."

He catches sight of her smile going wide behind her glass as Kevin huffs away. If his chest inflates, that's his own little secret.

He doesn’t get much time with her after that. It leaves his heart feeling a little cold inside his chest. She’s up dancing with some of the other people from their table, smiling friendly and big, clearly a little tipsy, arms moving a little too wildly to be strictly sober.

When the music gently lowers and the emcee’s voice booms through the speakers for the first dance, everyone surrounds the dancefloor with their cameras out and she somehow ends up next to him, right in front of their table. It’s only a few bars into the song that he hears the sniffle, and he can’t help it, he doesn’t want her to cry, but it’s undeniably funny how soft she is.

"Would you stop crying? You're a mess, kid." Blaming his next move on a combination of the beers he’s had and his heart breaking while watching her cry, he puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side.

She gets tense for a fraction of a second, but one hand swings around his waist and the other comes up and wipes at her tears as she asserts that she’s “fine.” It’s less than convincing. She looks around as the DJ invites the guests onto the dance floor- probably for Kevin, but he’s wrapped up in his own little world with that bridesmaid he’s been following around like a lost puppy all night. Jo, Jimmy thinks her name might be, but he’s a liar if he says he’s been thinking about anything other than the girl tucked under his arm for the past few hours.

They start playing that Elvis song, he hates it. The Righteous Brother’s version of it is better, almost passable. He has no plans on making his way onto the wooden dance floor, but she sighs, and he feels it since she’s still snug against his body and he’d do a lot of dumb things to make her smile.

He’s clearly lost his mind as he nudges her with the arm that is wrapped around her shoulders, “C’mon.”

She follows him, eyes scrunched in skepticism, but he doesn’t have to pull her much, her body belies her combative words- already leaning into him, to his delight. “Jimmy stop, you hate dancing, you don’t have to.” He can tell her heart’s not in it, and she’s been dancing all night at this point, so what kind of man would he be to let a pretty girl stand on the sidelines.

"It's fine (y/n). Three minutes won't kill me. Just turn off the water works, yeah?" She scoffs but promises to try.

When she places her hands on his shoulders he gets chills from his head to his toes, feeling the warmth of her hands through his button-up and he's so, so sure that she can see his ears grow red. If she does, she keeps it to herself and he's appreciative.

The only thing on his mind is that he wants her to smile again; at him, for him, because of him. So he gets grumpy, she always gets a kick out of that. "God, I hate this fucking song." That does it, she lights up, eyes peering up at him from around his chest, she's so small.

"You're a spoil sport, Jim." He rolls his eyes and tightens his hands around her waist. She sighs again and he almost removes his hands from her, thinking he offended her in some way, but he follows her gaze to Kevin.

"Kev's gonna kick me out of our room tonight isn't he?" He looks over and laughs, because she's definitely correct, and there's only one possibility swimming around his mind, and he's tipsy enough that he doesn't hate the idea of it.

"Yeah, yeah definitely. That's a good assessment."

______

She’s unsure for about a second and a half after he asks if she wants to share his room. Realization starts to dawn and it’s not like she has much of a choice. So she huffs into the shuttle that takes them from the reception to the hotel and stands a little too far from him in the elevator and stares at the floor, suddenly shy like they haven’t known each other forever, haven’t had Mario Party nights in Kevin’s basement all piled into sleeping bags on the floor.

He slides the key into the door and she starts unpinning her hair before the green light comes on. “I really appreciate this, thank you again. Kevin’s a douche.” Jimmy laughs because he’s been on both sides of this situation before, but he’s happy he’s here to help. The second she’s inside and he starts to rifle through his duffle bag, she sees the problem.

“I don’t… damnit!” she’s mostly talking to herself, but he’d be rude not to answer. When he turns around to head towards the bathroom to change she’s unclasping her necklace and taking off her earrings and he feels like he’s intruding on a private moment.

“What’s wrong?” He’s not really good at this, but he thinks shes on the brink of tears, eyes tired and getting glassy as she gently lays her jewelry onto the dresser.

“All my clothes are back in my room. I just want to go to sleep. This is the worst,” he’s sure she’d stomp her foot in a tantrum if she could, frustration furrowing her forehead.

“I brought extra clothes, (y/n) it’s fine,” in reality he didn’t bring much in the way of extras; what he traveled in, his suit, a pair of shorts to sleep in, and what he planned on going home in tomorrow, but he hands over his clean shirt and sweats and pushes her gently towards the bathroom.

He starts turning down the bed and realizes that it’s not a viable solution to the problem he’s got on his hands, so he turns around and starts pulling the cushions off of the pull out couch and rearranging the desk to make room; honestly who even uses it- waste of space.

When she comes out of the bathroom drowning in his clothes, he has an entirely different problem on his hands. He didn’t think he’d have such a visceral reaction to her stood there in an old Harvard Hockey shirt and some dopey llama pajama pants an aunt bought him for christmas years ago. The fact of the matter is that it hits him square in the chest and takes his breath without his permission.

She managed to get most of her makeup off; she looks a little rosy from the scrubbing. Her hair is piled up on top of her head and his pants are rolled at least 4 times around her waist, but the legs are still far too long. It’s not like she needs them, his shirt is longer than the dress she just took off. He immediately realizes the error of his ways when he starts that train of thought, so he grabs the one pair of shorts he knows is in his duffle bag and heads straight into the bathroom to throw some cold water onto his face.

After brushing his teeth and a few deep breaths, Jimmy exits the bathroom in only his shorts; he didn’t pack any extra shirts, so he hopes she’s okay with his bare torso. He throws his suit into a heap on the floor and drops down on the pull out couch, it squeaks under his weight and he knows it’s going to be a long night sleeping on this thing.

When (y/n) hears the squeak she stands up out of the armchair in the corner where she was scrolling through her phone, “Jimmy, no. You’re like 12 feet tall, you can’t sleep on that thing.” She gets up and walks over to him and pushes against his bare shoulder. “Move, I’ll sleep here.”

He laughs at her trying to muscle him out of the way, she doesn’t look happy about it, but that just makes him laugh harder, and maybe flex a little bit more if he's honest. “Go lay down. You must be exhausted from all that crying you did today.” That does it and she sniffs and turns on her heel to the bed.

“I take it back, you deserve whatever that does to your back, you bully.” That just makes him laugh again.

She tucks herself into the bed and throws two pillows at his head. He catches them both and she settles in, “Thanks, Jimmy. I owe you one.” He turns off the lamp and tries to get comfortable, “Anytime.”

______

Jimmy lies there and listens to her steady breathing, he's been tossing and turning for about 30 minutes and he can't figure out what's wrong. The couch is more comfortable than he thought it would be and he's exhausted, so he's not sure why he can't succumb to his heavy eyelids.

He rolls over and scrolls through his phone, somehow finds himself meandering through her Instagram. It's not the first time it's happened, but it feels a little forbidden since she's in the same room, barely 10 feet from him.

He scrolls back slowly, careful to not double tap anything on accident. It's his favorite photo. A throwback, her and him with a bunch of their friends from high school at some beach party they organized for Kevin graduating and going to college.

It's too vivid when he thinks about it. Earlier that day he was sat in the locker room listening to Brian go on and on about (y/n). It made his stomach turn the way he talked about her, getting into her pants at prom, one last hurrah before he goes away to school and maybe gets drafted. Jimmy never really liked him (and he never ended up getting drafted, so jokes on him). Everyone else seemed to like him alright though, especially the ladies. So, he kept his mouth shut, shoved his pads into his bag and pushed his feet into his sneakers before getting out of there as quickly as he could.

Later that night she's stumbling over to him after a few wine coolers, calling him Vese, like she's his coach. He turned her down, figuring he'd rather not have her explain that she had a real date a few months down the line, rather experience the heartbreak sooner than later. He didn't even end up going to prom, just the thought of her wrapped around Brian was enough to have the bile rising in his throat.

Jimmy's not stupid, knows they're grown now, some may even use the word "adults." Brian's name has never fallen from her lips once. She's clearly single since she came to this wedding with only Kev. Then he thinks about Kevin and Jo, how they're probably wrapped up together a couple of rooms away and thinks back to how Kevin so lovingly put it a few hours ago, maybe he'll work on finding his balls.

After he makes this life altering revelation he has a much easier time rolling onto his other side and slipping into sleep.

What feels like minutes later, the sun filtering through the curtains he hadn't quite drawn all the way closed wakes him up. She's gone, he thought this might have happened, have her leave like he dreamt the whole thing, with nothing from the last night to hold onto.

When he gets up to use the bathroom he discovers he's wrong. She's left her dress and shoes from the previous evening behind the door and a quick check of the dresser shows she left all of her jewelry as well. He assembles the couch back together and sits to check twitter mindlessly.

The mechanical lock turning alerts him to her return. In conjunction with all of his clothes she borrowed last night, his hat sits on her head, hair curling wildly out from under it. But it's when she wordlessly shoves a coffee into his hand he knows he's toast, made worse by the fact that his order is perfect.

His slightly hungover brain isn't capable of higher functions quite yet, so he reaches out his fist, "Best. Wedding date. Ever," and immediately feels like punching himself in the face with the same fist she's nudging hers against. Luckily she smiles and looks pleased overall, so he doesn't beat himself up about it too much.

______

The invite has been sitting on his fridge for months. When he got it he rsvped right away, checking off 1 and mailing it back to Brady. It's only now that he thinks he maybe should have waited, found a date to bring. Kevin was smart, he rsvped 2 and would call an audible as time ran down, and now he has Jo. Fuck.

He calls Gracia directly. "I don't want to be that guy, but could I maybe bring a plus one? You can say no, I just-" he doesn't even get the rest of the sentence out before she tells him he's a dick, but of course he can bring a guest. She had allowed for wiggle room because she figured he might change his mind, Kevin was bringing a date so she assumed Jimmy would as well. He's so glad Brady's marrying someone like her, so chill and down to earth, never the drama queen.

So he text her. The last time he saw her was out somewhere with Kevin, they made stilted conversation until they warmed up to each other again and cheered on the Pats on the flat screen behind the bar.

Playing as cool as he can he comes up with: Brady gave me a plus one to the blessed affair… wedding date part 2?

He puts the phone down on his coffee table and expects he may have to wait a while for a response and busies himself trying to queue up HBO to binge some Game of Thrones in the meantime.

Turns out he's wrong, she responds within minutes.

Y/N: Obviously. When?

His heart almost bursts with a combination of excitement and relief. After telling her that it's next week, she follows up with a barrage of questions he has no feasible answer for and she says she'll figure it out.

She must talk to Kevin, because he gets a text halfway through the next episode of Game of Thrones from Hayes. It's just the two eye emoji about 50 times in a row. Jimmy ignores it and throws his phone back on the table.

He doesn't get a text from either of them for the next few days, and thinks nothing of it. Finally into the weekend Hayes texts him.

Hayzie: You're welcome bro. Just remember she's my family. Consider this your shovel talk.

Jimmy has less than no idea what the hell Kevin is on about, until his phone buzzes with a notification from (y/n) half an hour later.

Y/N: Can I show you the dress I picked and you tell me if it's okay? Kevin said I should show you so you can make sure it matches your suit?

Instantly his palms get sweaty. He replies as coolly as possible, trying to retain some level of chill despite how very not chill this whole thing feels.

I mean, I’m not really good at that sort of thing, but yeah.

He thinks that's okay. Don't expect him to be much help, but definitely send any and all photos, he's not trying to miss out on that opportunity.

The pictures pop up in quick succession.

Three photos, a front, side, and back view appear in their text thread and he sends out a silent prayer, thankful that the messages app doesn't alert the other person when you save a photo. After quickly studying them and deciding that she can wear literally anything she wants, when and wherever she would like, he opens his thread with Kevin and sends him two little rocket emojis, hoping he gets the point.

All that blue fabric glowing bright against her skin. It looks like she's all made up and his heart thumps at the idea that there is a slim possibility he is the cause of it. The slit up the thigh shows that she's wearing the same heels from the last wedding and as he scrolls down he can agree that, yes, they do indeed make her ass look fantastic. It makes him feel like a creep, but at least he’s an honest creep. When he gets to the side view, he catches a glimpse of the cut outs along her ribs and dry swallows.

He needs to figure out a game plan.

First things first, he tells her that it looks great, and then he peels himself off of the couch and into his bedroom to dig through his closet.

Here's the thing. Jimmy hates wearing nice clothes and would probably only own one suit if he didn't need them for every game day, so he's lucky his closet is full of bespoke suits. Picking out a light grey one, his favorite if he's honest, he suits up and leaves the top few buttons open, trying for casually disheveled, praying it doesn't look too Miami Vice.

He's not dumb, he hopes that this is her flirting, but he's too nervous to get optimistic about it.

As he fixes his hair in the mirror he starts typing out a reply. Nothing he's writing is coming off right though, all seeming like he's fishing for compliments, so he just sucks it up, takes a photo, and sends it before he can back out.

Do you think this will work with a blue tie

He waits face down on his bed, feeling every inch the self-conscious, pubescent teenager he's acting like. Each second that ticks by making his skin burn hotter. She's probably busy, is what he tells himself in the way of calming his nerves. The speed at which he reaches for his phone when it vibrates counters the aloofness he's aiming for, though.

It's just a string of thumbs up emojis, and he feels more than a little foolish getting his hopes up like that, thinking he'd be able to decipher any intent through a text message.

He needs a nap.

Awesome. See you Saturday?

If this is how he’s reacting to photos, he is a dead man come Saturday. He doesn't wait for a response before turning his phone off and putting a pillow over his head, hoping the emotional rollercoaster he was enough to pull him straight to sleep.

______

Jimmy knows they’re supposed to meet at Kevin’s, but he thought about it and decided the best way to make her aware of his intentions would be to go pick her up and be more direct in his pursuit. He gets up early and decides to go for a run, it calms him down, makes him feel serene and in control which is just what he needs today.

The phone rings three times before Jo picks up, “Hey Jimmy, Kev’s in the shower, what’s up?” He likes Jo for Kevin, she’s got the same wild streak, but she’s tenaciously focused and comes from the same kind of big, close family that Kev does. They’re a good match.

“Oh, what’s up? I was just calling to get his cousin’s address. I’m going to pick her up instead of meeting over by you guys. Do you know it off hand?” He wasn’t really prepared to have this conversation with Jo and it’s throwing a monkey wrench into his plan because he knows she’s going to tease him about it mercilessly, all in good fun of course.

She makes an oooooh noise, like the canned crowd on a sitcom during a kissing scene. “Jimmy, I didn’t know you had it in you! I’ll text it to you now. What’s the plan, James? Can I help?”

Sighing, he’s not sure if this would have been better or worse if Hayes had answered. “Help what?” Jo snorts, “Let me help you get your girl!”

That makes him straight up laugh, “Jo, please, your only job is to keep Kevin’s mouth shut.” She cackles, “I can think of some ways to keep him otherwise occupied, if you know what I me-”

Jimmy cuts her off, “It’s been great chatting, just uh, send me that text, see you later!” he hangs up as fast as possible. She sends the message through with enough winky faces that it fills his whole screen.

He feels like he’s going to prom, if he could imagine what that would have been like, combing his hair in the mirror and gelling it. He probably brushed his teeth two or three times this morning because he forgot he already did it. Before he puts his jacket on, he sprays a little cologne on his neck and closes his eyes before grabbing his keys and heading out the door.

He didn’t realize how close she lives and he’s there within fifteen minutes. After walking through the lobby and taking the elevator to her floor he stops in front of her door, takes three deep breaths, checks his reflection in his phone’s camera, and knocks.

The door flies open and she huffs, curlers in her hair and still in her pajamas, "I'm sorry Mrs. Dennehy. I can't look for Bootsie right n-," he smiles, "You are not Mrs. Dennehy."

“Nah. Definitely not,” he walks right past her and into her space, hoping he looks more confident than he feels. "That's a good look, (y/n). I mean… I liked the blue dress better, but I don't know much about fashion," sarcasm is the only thing he knows to calm his nerves and make him feel in control. He’d be worried about her reaction if she were a different person, but he knows she gets him and the worry leaves as quickly as it enters his mind.

She gets right up in his face, so close he could count her eyelashes, and pokes him in the chest with one pointed finger,

"How the fuck do you even know my address. I thought I was meeting you at Kevin's?" There's no feasible way he can explain that he's trying to court her without simultaneously throwing up in her living room, so he goes truth adjacent.

"I asked Kev. I figured we could go over there together. Him and Jo are still in the mushy honeymoon stage and I love him, but I really want to throat-punch him when I have to witness it firsthand." It's not not a true statement.

She nods in agreement, and he can feel the relief wash over him like a cool breeze. When he sits on her couch she tells him she won't be much longer and heads down the hall to the bathroom. His phone is absolutely exploding with messages from Kevin, and he silences it and puts it back in his pocket, standing and walking around the living room looking at the photos on her walls. He hears her heels clacking against the floor a few rooms away, but it's her voice that has his ears perking up.

"Vese?" He hates it. Brings him right back to that night on the beach and he hates the way it makes him feel. Like he has to reject her all over again, keep the distance and get comfortable in the bucket of undateable men in her life.

"I hate when you call me that." Women he's trying to court shouldn't call him that, that's reserved for teammates and coaches and friends at the bar.

She's a ball buster and she smiles sideways at him "Yeah, but it always gets a reaction." She spin so her back is to him and sweeps all of her hair forward over her shoulder, "Can you clasp the top of this please and then I'm ready to go, I swear!"

He does as she asks against his own better judgement. His hands pressed against the nape of her neck, baby fine hairs tickling his fingertips, and it's he can do to keep from leaning down and pressing a burning kiss on her neck.

Fuck him, this is going to be a long night.

______

He knows more people at this wedding, so he’s feeling a little looser, a little more comfortable. It also helps that she’s officially here as his date and not just forced to talk to him out of politeness, she has to like him on some level to sit through this by his side, on her own free will.

She’s crying again. She’s crying again and he can’t even stop himself from laughing at her; they haven’t even finished the ceremony yet and she’s patting at her eyes, fanning them to keep the tears from ruining her make up.

"You cry at everything, huh?" She elbows him hard in the ribs, and he lets out something between and laugh and a grunt. He’s head over heels.

Walking from the ceremony to the reception is eventful, to say the least. They follow Kevin and Jo, Jimmy giving a meaningful glance over at (y/n), so she knows just how clingy they are wrapped up in each other, driving his point from earlier home.

He’s almost jealous, but then (y/n) trips over what is possibly nothing on the sidewalk, he does the gentlemanly thing and throws a jibe her way before helping her right herself.

"You're a fuckin' hazard in those shoes. Look at you."

The smile that slides onto her face is dangerous, "Yeah but they make-"

"-they make your ass look fantastic. I know." He doesn’t realize the error of his ways quite yet, so used to trading good-natured barbs with her it never occurs to him that present company might have a problem with him being so brazen about it.

Kevin pulls himself away from Jo long enough to join the conversation, "Keep your eyes off my cousin's ass, Vesey." Flashing with embarrassment at being caught, all he can muster out is a weak fuck you, but it sends her and Jo off into peels of laughter and that’s enough for him.

______

She and Jo are a mess, sobbing all over each other before the wedding even really gets started. The first dance has them crying as he and Kevin hoot and holler with some of Brady’s other friends, they obnoxiously tap anything they can against their drinks to get Brady to kiss his bride. That sends the girls into another tizzy, crying about true love or something to that effect.

There isn’t a better wedding date. He’s sure of it. She pulls him out of himself, dragging him around the dancefloor by his tie until he gets too warm and tucks it into her bag, the lamest way he has ever marked his territory. She leads him through all the standard wedding line dances, and a few rounds of Shout, lowering softly down to the floor and screaming loud on the way back up. He’s never had such a good time at a wedding and he knows it’s because of her, glowing in the sea of people on the dance floor with her bright smile and laughter.

When the DJ starts calling all the ladies to the middle of the dance floor amid that Beyonce song, Jimmy’s heart stops. There’s no way that what happens next wasn’t planned. He sees it in slow motion. The bouquet leaving Gracia’s hand in a perfect arc straight into (y/n)’s hand. Her fingers curl around it and she cheers with the other girls, before sitting down on the lone chair on the dance floor, looking positively stricken as she watches the men line up for the garter toss.

Jo is cackling.

Jimmy’s not really one to be involved in these types of things, but he doesn’t want her to take is absence on the dance from as a direct insult, so he heads to the floor with the rest of the guys, no real intent on catching anything flung in his direction.

Kevin has to be in on it; he certainly wasn’t vying for the chance to slide a garter up his own cousin’s thigh. That asshole uses his ridiculous reach to knock the garter down straight into Jimmy. After Jimmy plucks it up off of his shoulder, Kevin is pointing at Jo nodding and laughing while she holds her phone camera up high, catching the whole ridiculous spectacle on video.

Every other guy must hate him, he’s sure of it, as he receives various pats on the back and comes to term with the idea of what’s about to happen. It’s not that he doesn’t want to rake his hands all over her body, he just imagined way less people around if he ever finally built up the courage to do it (and by some grace of God she allowed him to). He’s absolutely sure it’s Gracia who wolf whistles, she can do that loud one through her fingers, and he’s positive all of his friends are douche bags, even the bride.

Jimmy stares at the DJ, feigning attention as best as he can. He knows what he has to do, drop down on his knee and slide his hands up, up, up under her dress, placing the garter as hight around her thigh as she’ll allow. He thinks Taylor Swift is playing, but the only thing he can hear clearly right now is the thumpthump thumpthump of his own heart in his ears.

She sits looking up at him, so sure of herself and smiling like always, like he’s not about to have a massive coronary episode. His hands are shaking and his knees feel weak as he kneels down and her eyes follow him, smile never wavering. She drops one foot into his hand and he takes a moment to curse Kevin under his breath. It’s all he can do to smile reassuringly at her, hoping it doesn’t look as manic as it feels.

Taylor Swift starts singing about her dress she wants to take off, and his mind definitely can’t go down that road with her bare expanse of leg under his hands. He’s slid the stupid, lacey garter over her bare foot and up her smooth calf before stopping and placing it chastely on her knee, feeling her goosebumps as his hands brushed back down over her shin. Jimmy is a gentleman first and foremost and he’d rather not have an audience the very first time he’s invited under her dress.

He can hear Jo’s cackle before a “High-er! High-er!” chant starts and he knows she’s to blame. (Y/n) laughs above him and he wishes he could be the pinnacle of cool right now, but he’s about to combust. She leans in close to him encouraging, his hands still wrapped around her calf. "Our friends are idiots," he sighs.

"They really are, but they're not going to let you out of this, Vese," she says his name like a challenge as she wiggles her foot, and he’s never been one to back down.

It takes all of the courage he can muster as he lifts her dress. Circling both of his hands around her knee; they push the garter up her thigh in tandem, centimeter by centimeter as slowly as he can drag it out, not sure if he’ll ever be allowed this opportunity again. Doing his best not to think about his clammy hands brushing across her cool skin, he hopes she can’t feel it.

Time drags as slowly as his hands until he hears her sharp intake of breath when he gets high on her inner thigh and he stops, not wanting to be fresh, but wanting to prove to her that he’s up for whatever the challenge in her voice was asking for. He stops the motion of the garter as her eyes widen, figuring he’s taken this far enough.

Not wanting to let go and face the awkwardness that will surely linger once the bubble around this moment pops, he slides his hands all the way down her leg. Never wanting to let go of her fevered skin, lest he never get another chance to touch. Her eyes look wild and he knows everyone is clapping, but he feels like dying as the dance floor slowly fills back up as he offers her a hand out of the chair and back to their table, but she leaves him there, practically sprinting away from him towards the bar.

______

Kevin can’t even contain himself when he sits down. “That’s gross Jim. That’s my cousin,” Jimmy’s head bounces as he drops it down onto the table between his arms. “This is all your fault.” Hayes literally chokes on his laughter and slaps Jimmy hard on the back.

“You’ll figure it out man. You guys are made for each other,” Jimmy’s not convinced.

Clearly she’s not either, since she spends the rest of the time until dinner arrives dancing with Jo. She has no choice but to sit down next to him when dinner is served, but visibly jumps every time their elbows brush and Jimmy’s worried that he’s taken it too far and made her uncomfortable.

He’s frustrated. She was the one who told him to keep going, he would have stopped right there on her knee, but no, she goaded him with her smart mouth and shrewd eyes and he went against his better judgement and he’s furious for giving into his baser instincts. He pushes the dinner around on his plate, no appetite to eat much of anything.

He can feel her at his side, staring at the dance floor and sighing, it doesn’t look like she’s hungry either, her food sits cold in front of her. He follows her gaze to Brady’s grandparents dancing; they’re the only people on the dancefloor and he can see her wistfully following their movements and sniffling. Kevin nudges him and tilts his head towards her while raising his eyebrows and the beginning swells of Unchained Melody start up.

He doesn’t really believe in fate, but it certainly is quite the coincidence.

"C'mon hotshot," he stands up and dries his sweaty hands in his pockets, a trick his older cousin taught him before his first boy-girl dance in middle school. He’s shocked when she nods, smiles, and stands up to follow him.

Jo yells out, 'Get it girl!' and you’re seriously going to have to talk to Kevin about his woman.

He gently rests his hands on her waist and sways with her, "What gives? Sick of seeing me cry?" Her hands land on his shoulders, before she stands up on her bare tip-toes and winds her arms around his neck, pulling him close. His chest gets tight and it’s hard to draw in a breath with her standing so closely.

He can’t possibly let her think for one second that he doesn’t want to be exactly where he’s stood right now, wrapped up in her arms. "Nah. It's our song," his grip at your waist tightens as he realizes the implications of what he’s said and how heavy his words feel sitting in the space between them, so he clears his throat and adds on, "Tradition," like a coward.

Her smile stretches across her face and he feels like he’s laying in the sun, bathing in her brightness. His heart is flying that he’s still allowed anywhere near her and didn’t ruin everything they had worked towards with the foolish bouquet toss. He spins her under his arm and pulls her back, as close to himself as he can, not willing to let her go for the rest of the evening.

High on the dancing and wedding and endorphins, he kisses her cheek without thinking about it as he drops her at her apartment after the wedding. He’s too scared to see her reaction so he walks back to the elevator with his whole body on fire, and hopes the hallway is too dark for her to tell his ears are a hot shade of crimson during his retreat.

That night he lies in his bed, scrolling through the photos Jo snuck of them dancing, beatific smiles on their faces and close enough that no one would suspect that they didn’t belong to each other.

______

The ball hooks to the left and he drops the driver onto the patch of astro turf and grabs his water, stepping back and watching Kevin drive one 200 yards, straight as an arrow.

“You’re not focusing, Vese. Your long game looks like shit.” He knows this.

“Just distracted lately,” picking up the club he plants his feet to the ground and rocks back and forth, getting his stance on an even keel before back-swinging with straight arms and following through. It hooks to the right this time. “Fuck.”

Kevin laughs at him, diggin in his cooler for a beer. “You gotta sort your head out man. Nut up or get over it. You know her, you’re going to have to make the first move, she’s not gonna do it.”

Jimmy takes the beer Kevin hands him, “I thought asking her to be my date to my best friend’s wedding and putting a garter on her thigh was pretty clear,” but Kevin shakes his head no.

“Bruh,” Kevin tilts his head to the side as if to say, don’t be a fuckin’ idiot, “Jo said she insists you’re just friends. Just figure it out so I can stop talking about you possibly banging my cousin. It’s getting kinda gross.”

He sees Kevin’s point; he still thinks Kev’s an ass, but he sees his point.

______

Obviously Kevin and Jo decide it’s time to take everything into their own hands.

Barely three weeks after Brady's wedding and he goes out with the two of them to a bar for some beers and food, maybe catch a little of the Sox game. It's a nice chill night and he enjoys the time away from his own thoughts mulling around, wondering how far he’s dug his own grave. He hasn't heard from her since the wedding and he thinks he may have fucked it all up, a beer and some food that's not on his usual diet plan helps.

Jo's sitting across from him, next to Kevin and going on and on about this baby she just pulled out a picture of. "He's so cute just LOOK at him!" Kevin is showing no fear at the clear and present baby fever, so Jimmy can tell he's actual facts in love. The kid’s cute; a little blond boy, rosy red cheeks, and at this rate Kevin and Jo will probably be showing him one of their own in a few years.

"His dad was my first boyfriend. He took my virginity at prom and now he has a BABY! I am old. I can't." She shakes her hand, palms out to demonstrate just how much she just can't. Jimmy's uncomfortable at best and not entirely sure where this conversation is going. Kevin smirks through the whole damned thing though. He feels like he’s not in on the joke.

The little bell above the door alerts him that someone new has entered the bar, but the Sox are turning a double play so he doesn't look over to see who Kevin's waving at.

When Jo's eyes light up with mischief, it becomes pretty obvious who's walking their way.

She slides in next to him and he smiles at her, unsure if she was in on the whole set up or not. Taking into consideration her matching confusion, he'd guess not.

"Didn't know you were coming, (y/n)!" She smiles down at him but her brows are still confused, scrunched together on her forehead. He slides over to make room and hands her a menu, which she starts to look over.

Jo can't keep herself still, practically vibrating out of her seat with frenetic energy. "We were just talking about the old days. Feelin' a little nostalgic." He suddenly knows where she’s going with her elaborate set up and his skin prickles, hot and cold.

"I was just telling the boys how I lost my v-card at prom to my first boyfriend. He just had a baby! How far we've come." (Y/n)'s knee is bouncing up and down and he can see that she's a little irritated at the conversation at hand, eyes glued to the menu refusing to look up.

"I wouldn't know about that Jo. Where's the waiter?" By the grace of God, he appears and everyone orders. It's silent after he leaves for approximately 30 seconds before Jo, apparently having forgotten every social cue she's ever learned, bulldozes the conversation right along, "You didn't lose it at prom?"

Jimmy wishes a lot of things; wishes he focused more in business class, wishes he was a little nicer to his siblings growing up, wishes he picked a different color on the Jeep he bought last summer. But, right now he wishes he could punch Jo right in the mouth.

"I didn't go to prom, actually," (y/n) answers, completely avoiding the question, but it makes his ears perk up.

Yes she did.

"Yes you did," he's blurted out before he can control his tongue. "You went with Brian."

She looks at him like he's on concussion protocol, "I think I'd know if I went to prom or not. My memory isn't that bad, Vese."

He controls the flare of hurt he feels at the nickname, "I hate that and you know it." She smirks, but otherwise ignores him; he doesn't miss Kevin and Jo looking on like they're an exhibit in the zoo.

He turns to her on their side of the booth, "No, you did. I heard him at hockey practice. He said he was asking you." It isn't something he'd easily forget- the stinging rush of jealous hearing Brian say he was asking her, paired with a hot flash of anger hearing him talk about her like another conquest. She squirms under his heavy gaze a little, but looks him in the eye when she answers.

"I mean, he did ask. But I said no." The waiter chooses the perfect time to interrupt the conversation, dropping plates down in front of everyone. Jimmy wishes he could punch him in the mouth too.

Kevin and Jo take the opportunity to make the flimsiest excuses he's ever heard to leave the table. They're probably better off without onlookers, honestly.

She's ignoring him having an existential crisis right beside her, watching the game and drinking her water. He can't let it go though, has to take his chance now before he doesn't get another.

"I, uh, really thought you went with Brian." The ‘why didn’t you’ is implied He can't look directly at her; she's like the sun- lighting up his world, he just hopes he won't get burned getting too close for his own good.

When she turns her gaze on him, she looks a little predatory. He likes it. He turns all the way towards her to give her all of his attention, the length of his thigh presses up against hers, "I didn't want to go with him. He was kind of a douche."

"All the girls liked him, though," Jimmy picks up his beer and rolls the cold glass between his hands, hoping to cool himself down. It was so long ago, but he feels like he has to know. He just wants to hear that she didn't like Brian, never liked Brian, didn’t even see him as an option.

"Yeah, the dumb ones," she grins at him before stealing fries off of Kevin's plate, slowly growing cold in his absence. Jimmy sighs, feeling relief crash his body like a wave.

"I wanted to go with someone else. I asked, but you know…" she shrugs. Maybe she really did ask him to prom because she liked him. His body stiffens at the thought of all the wasted years if that’s actually the case.

All this waiting and his stupid false nobility, not giving her the choice. He feels like a heel, "I guess I was pretty dumb back then too."

She doesn't let him wallow into himself and presses her thigh against his to get his attention, before shoving another of Kevin's fries into her mouth. "I mean, you went to Harvard, so how dumb can you really be, James."

"So," Jimmy stops and sighs, he has to tell her. "This is embarrassing, but," he can't go one more day with her thinking he told her no because of anything to do with her when the fact of the matter is that he was an idiot. Still is an idiot.

She puts her hand on his knee patronizingly, patting it gently, "You weren't shot down asking someone to prom, so how embarrassing could it really be?" Her smile is a little sad but it doesn’t reach her eyes and he can’t compute much with her skin on his.

"Touche, but for the record- I only said no because I figured you'd rather go with him. I just didn't want to get my hopes up only for you to change your mind when he asked you." By the time he’s done with his confession her jaw is on the floor and she seems genuinely surprised by his revelation.

Her eyes look a little watery but the smile reaches them, "You're right, Vesey. You are dumb." He knows his face matches, feels his heart go soft and mushy under her attention and he wants. Obviously that’s when Kevin and Jo return, because they’ve been nothing if not completely inconvenient in every aspect of his love life.

When dinner is over and everyone is getting up and ready to leave, he isn’t ready to say good night. They worked through a lot, but he’d be disappointed in himself if he didn’t have the courage to lay everything out on the table in front of her to accept or reject.

He grabs her wrist before she can get too far, thinking as quickly as he can, "I'm going to have another beer, wanna stay with me?" He doesn’t want another beer, just wants an opportunity to talk to her without four extra eyes peering into their conversation.

Everyone says their goodbyes and Jimmy heads to the bathroom. He washes his face in the sink and gives himself a mini pep-talk before walking back out to the bar. She’s sitting on a barstool waiting for him, "I didn't know what you were drinking or I would have ordered it for you."

"Oh, no. I'm good to go. I just wanted them to leave so we could talk alone. Is it okay if we go to my place?" She nods and hops down, following him out the door and into the warm summer night.

______

"Don't the Rangers pay you enough to live in a building with an elevator?" Jimmy laughs and she huffs and puffs, feet thudding up each step behind him. He lets them into his apartment, grateful his cleaning lady stops by every two weeks to tidy up.

She sits down on the couch and he sits next to her, probably too far in her personal space.

"I really wanted to go with you." There. He said it. It’s out there in the open. She just looks at him, wide eyed, so he continues to explain himself.

"If I had known you didn't want to go with Brian, I would have said yes when you asked." He looks down at his hands, wringing them and forcing the words up his chest and out of his mouth. "I know it was so long ago, but I just feel like I want you to know that."

She isn’t giving him much in the way of a reaction, staring at him with her head tilted sideways, with all of his words out there in the open, before a wide smile splits her face and puffs up her cheeks.

"You like me." He can barely look at her without feeling flames of embarrassment lick their way up his spine, and he hopes she won’t hold this over his head for the rest of his life.

He can’t even stutter out a response to her before she’s cutting him off, "No. It wasn't a question. It was a statement. You like me." It’s inevitable, this is the turning point of their relationship. She’s right and he has to be honest about it, no matter how it will change everything for better or worse. He bites his lip and nods.

"Yeah. I just… you know how I am. With feelings and stuff," it takes everything in him to talk about, what he feels is, his biggest shortcoming. He hates addressing feelings. He’d rather keep his distance with snark and wit and sarcasm, never letting anything close enough to affect him. But here she is, wormed right into his chest next to his heart. She could tear him open and destroy him if she so chose.

She’s intent on destroying him straight away it seems, because as he’s about to continue his poor explanation of his feelings. she closes the distance between them and kisses him hard on the mouth. She backs away when their teeth clash and laughs awkwardly.

"So aggressive," he laughs and wipes at his lip. His heart is thumping wildly in his chest at her nonverbal confession, "Slow down, we have lots of time now."

"We really don't though," he just about loses his breath at that, not sure how he’s going to get back in her good graces, "I have to be up in the morning so I don't have all night, Vese. Some of us have been patiently waiting for years."

"Yeah, some of us have been," he leans over and closes the space between them this time. He kisses her slowly and he’s sure if she’d let him, he’d never stop.

_____

Jimmy cries more than he expects when he sees her. She cries way less than he expects too. Everyone is surprising him today, but he thinks he has the best surprise stashed firmly up his sleeve.

When it’s finally time, he pulls her close, the new metal band on his left finger cold against his skin. She looks up at him in her sparkly, white dress.

"Vese," he smiles when it rolls off of his lips, happy the nickname can finally be something that binds them instead of making her feel so far from him like it once did.

"It's Mrs.Vese, actually, James," she snarks up at him, her arms around his neck and nails gently scratching the base of his skull like she knows he likes. The music swirls around him and Jo is happily engaged in flash photography behind his wife, definitely catching his love-sick smile for later blackmail.

"I can't believe you chose this song for our first dance," she pulls him into her as Elvis croons on about wise men and fools, "you hate this song."

He does, it’s true, but it’s brought them together against all odds. He’s overwhelmed with love, so he gives in and kisses her, closing his eyes against all the flashes going off around them. "I really do. But you like it, and I love you."

#jimmy vesey fic #jimmy vesey imagine #love songs #hockey fic #hockey imagine #buffalo sabres fic #buffalo sabres imagine #hockey rpf #companion pie #writing #long post

219 notes · View notes