#I figure morning time? since lane got back last night

[lovxrslane]

@emberwexley

lane had known who was standing outside of the quarantine suite from the rhythmic knocking alone. the metallic jingling of bracelets only further confirmed the identity of who was waiting for them on the other side of the heavy door.

they wrung their hands together nervously as they contemplated opening the door or simply ignoring it—but when ember’s voice spoke their name lane’s heart tugged them towards a decision. she opened the door slowly and looked at the familiar face with a tired smile. “no hugs, miss wexley.” lane reminded her knowing that she was already breaking protocol by opening the door.

“i think we can get away with a few minutes of chatting though.” she didn’t want to send ember away. lane had been surprised at the comfort seeing her had brought. “maybe just step back a few feet your side and i’ll do the same, yeah?”

lane kept the door open and did as she suggested, stepping back until she felt the wall of the suites entryway against their back. lane slid to the floor and sat criss cross applesauce.

“kind of feels like coming back from the dead.” lane admitted, about being back after so long. after a minute their face contorted to mock upset and they cocked their head, “you better not have tossed my stuff or i’ll be right annoyed.”

[she-karev]

Ground Rules (Japril Season 17 Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of One

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Ship: Jackson Avery x April Kepner

Canon Episode: Season 17 Episode 8

AN: Happy Holidays! I wanted to focus on Japril for a little bit cuz I feel like I neglected them. Another story following this will be posted before Christmas so like and reblog and let me know what you think.

Summary: Jackson and April set the ground rules for their new relationship after getting back together.

Words: 1537

May 1st, 2020

Jackson wakes up from his side of the bed and feels an absence in his arms causing him to look and see that he is all alone in bed. After they confessed their feelings for each other last night and agreed to give their relationship another chance, April and Jackson spend the night in bed together for the first time in years.

They didn’t have sex instead he spooned her and was fast asleep. But now he sees that he is all alone and gets out of bed to find out if last night was a dream. He puts his jeans and black shirt on before walking out of the bedroom and heading downstairs looking around for a certain redhead. He reaches the first floor when a familiar high-pitched sound fills his ears.

“Good morning!” Jackson finds the source coming from his kitchen. He enters the large room to find April Kepner already in casual clothes making coffee from his expresso machine, “I already made you a latte and there’s bacon, scrambled eggs and toast in the microwave, I was just waiting for you so you could join me. I figured we could have a breakfast date after all the turmoil from last night. Not the part where we talked that part was the best part of that long night.”

The sight catches him by surprise, but it brings a grin to his face happy that last night was not a dream after all.

“Good morning.” Jackson approaches her and she hands him a mug with a smile, “You’re energetic for 6:30 in the morning. I could have saved you the trouble and made breakfast instead or order in from that cafe you love so much.”

“Deliveries are expensive now, and we have a perfectly good kitchen and is that a latte machine I just used?” April asks astonished by her extravagant ex who chuckles, “I mean mister pays 7 bucks six times a week for a cup of coffee actually got smart about saving money and makes his own lattes now?”

“Well, when the lawsuits were bleeding me dry, and I ended up broke I remembered you giving me grief about spending a thousand dollars a year on coffee.” April grins nostalgic in those early days of their marriage, “And with my trust fund being drained I was afraid of resorting to drinking leftovers from the café. So I decided to take your advice and make my own coffee to take to work. And you were right I saved a bunch of money that way.”

“Do you still send your clothes out to wash and dry?”

“Of course I do, I was broke not an animal.” April chuckles at him never changing his rich ways, “When did you get up? I was asleep the whole night.”

“I’ve been up since 4, I didn’t want to wake you because while I was making breakfast, I’ve been doing a lot of…thinking.” Jackson’s eyes widen at that as he sips his coffee, “No, no it’s nothing bad it’s just that I was going down memory lane and I realized that if we’re gonna start this again there has to be changes so that we don’t crash and burn again.”

Jackson’s worries lessen as he engages this topic, “Okay I get that and I agree, there should be changes so we don’t mess this up again. What were you thinking?”

April takes the plates out of the microwave and hands one to Jackson. They sit at the kitchen counter to eat and talk.

“I think our main issue is that we kind of skipped over a lot of boring, traditional relationship stuff when we got together.”

“You mean like dating.” Jackson says with a grin eating his eggs.

“Exactly, I mean don’t get me wrong I wanted to marry you, but I mean…in less than 24 hours we went from coworkers to best friends to runaway lovers to husband and wife. I think it’s safe to say we moved our relationship very quickly.”

“More like at warp speed.” Jackson jokes sipping his coffee, “But still it was an awesome wedding night.”

April grins lustfully, “That it was. But still if we’re gonna do this again we should lay down some ground rules that way we do things differently and this can last longer.”

Jackson thinks on it for a moment before nodding, “Yeah ground rules sound good, who should set them up?”

“I was thinking I could go first, and we go back and forth.” Jackson nods in agreement, “Okay I will start, Rule 1: We take things slow and go on dates obviously. It has to be covid safe but I’m sure we’ll find plenty to do don’t worry.”

Jackson bites his toast before going, “Rule 2: We…We sleep in the same bed from now on.”

“I was hoping that would be a rule.” April grins, “Rule 3: Let’s not have sex right away, we date for a while and we do it when it’s the right time.”

Jackson is startled by this but knows it’s for the best given their track record of sleeping together at the worst possible time, “Okay I can live with that. Rule 4: We talk about things that are bothering us and we don’t let it become bigger than us again.”

April nods knowing it’s a big step they have to take to make this work, “I completely agree with you, Rule 5: If this doesn’t work out, we go back to being friends. It would be good for Harriet if this works out but if it doesn’t, she needs to see us as a unit so she doesn’t get conflicted.”

“Yeah, I mean it can’t end any worse than the last time, that’s the good thing about our divorce. Rules 6: We keep this out of the hospital grape vine. The last thing we need is everyone wondering where we’re going when we’re just getting started. Also, I’m afraid of my mother disapproving of us and trying to get in my ear about dumping you.”

“I wouldn’t put anything past that woman.” April agrees with a bitter tone that Jackson catches, “You know I love her but we’re talking about the woman who tried to get you to sue me for full custody when I was still pregnant.”

“A suggestion that I rejected and only got on board with because of a misunderstanding that could have been resolved if we just communicated.” Jackson points out not out of anger but out of acknowledging their mistakes during that time, “And I backed out when I realized that and made a functional family with you.”

April nods understanding, “Still, I think her opinion of me was obvious from that.”

“Agreed the hospital and especially my mother are kept in the dark. It shouldn’t be hard since everyone is too busy to gossip. Plus, you work part time so we probably shouldn’t run into each other a lot.”

“True okay Rule 7: We try to spend as much time as we can together. We’re both super busy but we live together, and we can rebuild our relationship better this way since we haven’t been together for years now.”

Jackson nods and thinks for a moment, “I think I’ve exhausted all of my ground rules, have you?”

April takes a bite of her toast thinking, “I’m good.”

Jackson grins sipping his coffee, “Let’s hope we can follow these rules.”

April gives a teasing grin, “I know I can, I’m not sure about you.”

Jackson chuckles, “First thing we should do is go on a date, I’m free until tomorrow morning how about you?”

April groans in regret, “I have the clinic until tonight I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, we’ll do a dinner here tonight when you get back.”

“Are you thinking of ordering in Mexican? Maybe Thai?”

Jackson clicks his tongue and holds April’s hand in a way that creates somersaults in her chest, “Actually I was thinking since you made breakfast by hand, I can do the same for you tonight for dinner.”

April’s eyes widen at that proposal, “You can cook?”

“Yeah.” Jackson replies simply.

“Since when?” April asks with a surprised smile, “I mean the last time we were together I did the cooking, and you ordered in that was our thing.”

“Well things have changed since them, me included. I took up cooking at the monastery when I went on my nature walks, it was very calming and invigorating. Also, it’s a little like surgery only instead of surgical tools I used cooking appliances and instead of sewing tissue I mixed ingredients. I’m not a pro but I’ve learned some recipes I think might surprise you. So let me surprise you April, tonight. What do you say?”

April’s smile grows at this and her excitement for tonight heightens, “Okay, I might regret this but most first dates have that so fingers crossed.”

Jackson chuckles still holding her hand, “Fingers crossed.” He leans forward and kisses her. In that short kiss sparks fly between them that they are familiar with. He pulls back with a grin that she shares before they eat their breakfast excited about their first real date tonight.

[rastronomicals]

  So, how was your day?

I've tried for 15 years to keep this just to music or maybe occasionally movies, but sometimes this shit's gonna spill out. And apologies, that time's today.

You might say I was disappointed by the results of the US election last night . . . but disappointed wouldn't be the right word.

While driving home this eve in my foul mood, I wrote a buddy in the great State of Alabama who I knew could sympathize (and since I dictated to the phone let's keep its censorship):

I feel broken, I feel set free. All my platitudes and my illusions, flying away.

Guess what? We're NOT better than this.

There's no doubt we've got the president that we wanted and that we deserve.

Also angry. I told M--- I was blow something up angry.

I spent my day in between counter sales, surfing across Substack, alternately leaving bitter comments about the piggish electorate, and trolling the exultant Republican trolls. On one blog I told the maghat to 'eat it for dinner you Nazi f***'. On Wonkette, I very pedantically corrected the awful grammar of another one.

Self-destructive I know, but also funny.

I am, I'm all f***** up.

Apologies if you're not ready to read something like this, if I had sent myself this text this morning I would have thrown my phone out the window. But I just laughed for the first time all day, somebody let me in; I was trying to change lanes, so I gave them the peace sign and said to myself 'ah, Harris voter!'

So, some light returning, but still I feel like it's f****** war.

So there's that.

But then another buddy, one who *just might* have voted for Trump, but more likely didn't vote at all, sent me the SOD video, just as a way to say what's up, and listen, Milano might have voted for Trump, too. So I watched the video and some good times listening to some good music came back, so I wrote him this

Okay, it's been a tough day, but I figured out how to get my car stereo to play the music through my phone and I watched the SOD video and that s*** made me f****** smile. That band is so much f****** fun. It's a shame I/you/we never saw them.

Thank you for that

and boy did I ever mean that Thank You, whoever the fuck my bud voted for. And whoever Billy Milano voted for.

'Cause I needed it.

Let it be a reminder that no matter what fucking clown is fucking up your shit, music can always give you an escape, as I escaped for a few minutes there watching Billy Milano stagedive as I drove down 22nd avenue in that weird six o'clock darkness right after DST expires.

But the other thing going on is, I still wanna blow something up. I need to do something.

I'm an old man. It's late in life but I will do something to fight this incoming President and fight this country who so dearly loves him. We'll see what form it takes.

File under: Metal that will melt your face

[pbandjesse]

My neck is still very stiff but I seemed to have fixed my wrist pain. By hitting my wrist with a book? There was a very painful hard bump on the top of my wrist and I smacked it with a book based on remembering something I read and it worked?? I know that is not a long term fix but it's something. At least I'm not suffering as much as I have been cause it's been rough.

I went to sleep last night and slept alright. Getting up was hard. I was almost sure I was just going to sleep and extra hour since it wouldn't matter. But then I remember I parked on the side of the street that would need cleaning today and had to move the car by 8. So I still got up at 7.

And honestly it wasn't bad. I was up and dressed. I didn't like what I chose. I ended up in my green romper which I love. It's a bit thin but with a tank top I feel just fine.

I made toast before I left. Which was good but I bit tough. And then I was on the road.

James did get to sleep in a little later then their normal 530. And they were still very tired but they would have some restful parts of the day as they would head back from Philly with Lane. But because of tiredness we are pushing back our movie date. Which is fine by me. Well get there soon.

I got to camp at 8 and it was a nice morning. I got stuff set up and then went for a walk.

I found some mushrooms. And took some pictures. And I was just in a good mood. Even if it hurt to turn my neck.

My groups today were awesome. Everyone really seems to love the project and I just felt so positive. Which was excellent. And I have a good flow going with the explanation now.

Katerina asked if she could carve a cuttlefish and I was like. Of course. And so she worked on that and later when bontkirchen was there I would cast it and she had the first successful rings and that was so cool! I am so excited how great people's pieces are and what we have discovered works and what doesnt. It is wild to me how many of the kids just don't follow directions and bring me carved pieces that won't work and when I explain how to fix it they bring me essentially the same thing a second time. I had a girl today go through like 6 bones without me know which made me kind of annoyed but it's whatever. We are learning.

At lunch I had my apple and cheese and peanut butter. Girl lunch. And then just had some time to be quiet and alone and that was needed.

My wrist and neck were honestly killing me. I would lay on the picnic table with my head leaning over and that helped a bit. But nothing was making my wrist feel better. I was so good about my brace today but it was just not good. Then I remembered the book thing. And I was in the middle of reading a book. And so I just smacked my wrist and it hurt! But almost immediately the radiating pain was gone. I could move my wrist in all directions!! I was so excited. It's not perfect for sure but I'm not miserable anymore!!

The afternoon was fine. The day campers did much better today. Everyone seems to love the drawing game. There's almost always one or two that have trouble letting go and letting the drawings be weird. But overall it's a hit.

Katerina would send mee a super nice message about how much she loves my class and it just warmed my heart. "I honestly love your program so much. It's so creative and fun. Thank you for the opportunities to make cute stuff."

I had fun casting with bontkirchen. And they finished up my metal stamping pieces. I'll have to order more. I still want to come up with a third metal working project but I haven't spent any time thinking about. I'll figure it out. I love how much they all love jewelery making so maybe we'll play with that more. But for now we are having fun with casting and stamping and it's just been super fulfilling.

I ended the day with a really nice day camp group. With some questionable counselors. But it's fine. The kids were very good. And they made good work overall. And while they worked I worked on filing off the rough parts of Katerina's rings. And it was a nice way to end the day. I love filing metal.

My neck was still hurting though. So once everything was cleaned and ready for tomorrow I went down to the office to chat. Showed off my mushroom pictures. Clowned on Chris that his bald head looked like the giant mushroom I found. And then said goodnight.

I would drive home and had a pretty easy drive. I got back here around 5. And my James was here. I was glad to see them home and safe.

They would attempt to help me with my stuff neck. Some things helped more then others. It's for sure still stiff but it's not as bad as it was.

James would have their podcast recording. Moved form Friday so if we want to go to the movies there isn't a problem. And I would take a shower and get comfortable in bed. Which was restful. I also finally finished all my lesson ideas for the national guard. Which took an hour or so but I am glad it's done. I'll have to do the supplies costs and links soon but I'm able to send that off now.

I had chicken nuggets (vegetarian) and salad for dinner. And brushes Sweetp who yelled the whole time. And eventually James came and held me. Eventually they ran to the store for milk and eggs and I would have some cereal as a snack. They would try to massage the stiffness out of my neck. It helped and I appreciated them trying.

And now Brandon is here!! We the rest of our wedding pictures!! I am excited to see them.

I hope it's fun to see new shots.

I hope tomorrow is a good day. I plan on sleeping at camp the next two days. I have groups alllll day. So fingers crossed it's not a nightmare. I hope you all have a goodnight and you are hurting anywhere. Until next time!!

[bike42]

Tuesday September 3, 2024

I could hardly sleep last night, anxious to get started on this long awaited adventure!

We were up at six, dressed to hike and had the final sorting of what goes is the pack and what stays in the suitcase. Since our room had a scale, we determined our final weights, which was of course more than our “practice pack” weights!

Packs with water (and hiking sticks):

Susan 18.2 lbs

Jeff 20.8 lbs

We had breakfast and the hotel arranged for a driver to take us to the Lisbon Oriente train station. We arrived about 30 minutes before our train, which was perfect. We were relieved to find that Portugal followed the same system as virtually all European cities, easy for us to figure out. We had 2 seats, facing backwards though, in the first class compartment. We read, napped, read and napped for the three hour journey.

We arrived in Vila Nova de Gaia just after noon. I’d selected this station on the south side of the river as it looked like it had the shortest walk to the Cathedral, which is the official start of the Camino Portuguese (you can walk it from Lisbon and even further south, but it’s not well marked or supported).

We walked the 1.7 miles to Cathedral using Google Maps, with some uncertainness! Over a viaduct and a large bridge, that had a lane for the street car, and for pedestrians (cars must have been underneath). The Cathedral is undergoing renovations, so there was some confusion about where to go to get our credentials stamped. While in line to pay to gain entry to the cathedral, pilgrims coming out wished us our first buen camino and I was surprised at the wave of emotion that washed over me!

We got our stamp and headed out into the hot and windy afternoon. We saw few official markers, but basically we just had to get down the hill to the river, and keep the water on the left!

The waterfront was active with walkers, cyclists, runners and people on electric scooters. It was mainly a well developed waterfront, with buildings in various states of repair, from very nice to almost bombed out looking!

About 4 miles in, we were ready for a break. We were almost at the end of the river, and we stopped at a shady spot and had a coke and a snack from my bag while we rested our feet and legs.

We rounded the corner, then we were walking along the ocean, and it was stirred up today! There were people on the beaches, but no one swimming and the life guard stations had red flags flying. We walked through a beautiful park, where we were delighted to find public toilets!

We continued up the coast until we came to Matosinhos, where I’d booked accommodation through Expedia - a nice updated house with rooms, a common hot tub in the little courtyard and breakfast in the morning. We asked about a stamp for our credential, and were directed to go to the Tourist Information office at the beach. We showered, did some sink laundry, and headed out to get our stamp and some real food. Lucky for us, the TI was open until 7p and we got our stamp and bought scallop shells for our packs (signifies we are pilgrims), but not good was most restaurants don’t start serving until 7p and we were hungry and exhausted. We searched until we found a family run seafood place where we shared Couvert (olives, bread and some kind of spread), a fresh salad and seafood rice for two and a carafe of green wine. It really hit the spot, and I felt good about being adventurous eating (taking the heads off my own prawns now)!

Back to the room for some tea and chocolate (I’ve carried two bars this far and it’s time to lighten my load). San, Matt and Janet are at the MSP airport and we’re so excited to see them tomorrow!

Walked 8.4 miles (average 87 miles)

Spent $238 on food and accommodation

Pilgrim’s Blessing:

Almighty God, you who has called your servant Abram out of the Chaldean city of Ur and watched over him during all his travels, you, who were the guide of the Hebrew people in the desert, we ask you to take care of us, your children, who, for the love of your name, start our pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.

Be for us companion on the way, guide at the crossroads, strength in weariness, defense in danger, shelter on the way, shade in the heat, light in the darkness, comfort in despair and firmness in our intentions.

So that we, with your help, might arrive safely at the end of our journey and enriched by grace and virtues, might return safely to our homes, filled with everlasting joy.

We ask this through Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, One God, for ever and ever.

May the blessing of God Almighty, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, be with us and remain with us always.

Amen

[annieintheaair]

I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings, coming down is the hardest thing.

I feel like I am ready to move somewhere totally new, find a new job in a different industry, and just completely start over.

The last few weeks at work have been rough, to say the least. I got my first ever missed trip a few weeks ago, which I'm still trying to fight because they tried to reassign me to work a 3-day Philly trip when I was supposed to be doing an Oklahoma City ODAN. They didn't even leave me any voicemails or come find me in the airport so I went home.

Tonight, more storms rolled in just as I was getting ready for work. I was scheduled to work a Tulsa ODAN and with the weather, I figured I'd leave early for work to give myself some extra time. Just as I pulled out onto the main street by my house, it started pouring. My phone was notifying me of flash floods and sure enough, I got onto the highway, and I could literally hear the water hitting under my car because the roads were so flooded. I got into the right lane, made my way to the next exit, and called scheduling as I got off the highway.

The scheduler was relatively nice to me and suggested that my flight would probably be canceled since my flight in the morning had been canceled and now my sequence failed continuity. He told me to call back in about thirty minutes or so to see what happened.

On my way home, I decided I wanted to stop at Wendy's. I got some spicy nuggets, a baked potato, and their new dreamsicle frosty. When I saw it, I just knew I had to get it. My Grandma loved frosty's and also loved orange creamsicles so the two together were a perfect combo.

At home, I changed out of my uniform and settled in to eat my food. I waited a bit and then called scheduling. The new guy I spoke to wasn't nice and told me I'd get a missed trip. I asked if I could call out sick then and he said no. I asked if I could get a PO, which was also a no. He told me to call a flight service manager and ask. Long story short, no one would give me a PO and now I have another missed trip to fight with them about.

I have learned that this job is not worth my life. If the roads are flooded and I physically cannot get to work, it's not even worth trying. Ever since I lost my car in the flood last year, I've had severe PTSD when it comes to storms and flash floods. My anxiety gets really bad and driving in it makes me have a panic attack. I can't even drive when I'm having a panic attack. Yeah, I'm annoyed about the missed trip but I'm also not trying to die for this job.

Anyway, here's the follow-up on this weekend:

Friday ended up being a pretty busy day. I thought about going to yoga but saw the traffic and decided against it. I felt like I had plenty to do at home anyway to prepare for the rest of the day, like get gas and stop at Dutch Bro's for a rebel to give me some energy.

I left my house around 3:45pm, sat in traffic, and picked up my mom at my sister's house around 4:30pm. We took a detour to Marty B's for BBQ and drinks. I had a margarita and brisket mac and cheese and my mom had wine and brisket tacos. Marty B's is always worth the detour.

We met my friends at the Little Wooden Penguin around 7pm, where we hung out and planned on doing putt-putt but never actually did. It was a little bit of a disappointment but we still had a good time.

The ride home was long. So many roads were closed. After multiple detours, I got to the point where I was actually angry and on the verge of tears. It took me an hour and a half to get home. My mom and I had talked about stopping somewhere to do something fun on the way home but ended up not because I just wanted to get home at that point.

We finished out the night by drinking wine at my house and watching Father of the Bride 2.

Saturday morning I slept until about 10am. My mom was doing yard work outside and then we went to get coffee and run some errands. We ended up going to Fort Worth to check out the new Daiso location and found another unique store, too.

Back at home, we changed and got ready for dinner. We went to Walloon's, which had been on my list forever. My mom got wine and seafood mac and cheese and I got an espresso martini and mussels. The Google reviews said to try the chocolate dessert, which was mousse, so I enjoyed that, too.

It was still early when we were done with dinner so we ended up going down the street to The Magnolia, which is a wine bar that my mom and I really like. We both had a glass of wine and then ventured back to my car to head home. Neither of us wanted to go home so once we got back closer to my house, I suggested we go to American Revelry. My mom had a Mexican coffee and I had a gin cocktail.

This morning, we got up and headed to church in Fort Worth. I had made a brunch reservation at another one on my list, Quince. It was a nice morning so sitting by the river was a great spot for brunch. We both had mimosas, my mom had avocado toast, and I got chilaquiles. Everything was delicious.

We ended up running over to Trader Joe's for a few things and then my mom got a Lyft to my sister's house and I headed home where I turned on the TV but ended up taking a nap.

Before I knew it, it was time to get ready for work.

All of the delays and cancelations and everything else going on, especially a lack of a contract and a livable wage, have me wondering if staying is the right choice. I have nothing keeping me here in Texas other than this job. Maybe it's time to find a new job and move to a new place. When I opened Facebook tonight, while waiting to hear back from my job, I saw a post that talked about not being afraid to try something new or move somewhere new. I felt like maybe it was speaking to me. There's literally nothing holding me back right now.

I applied to some jobs on LinkedIn tonight, with the idea that either I find something and go where the job is or if it's remote, maybe choose to try somewhere new. South Carolina has always been on my list.

For now, I'll continue checking Fort Worth restaurants off my list while I'm still here, even if sometimes I have to go alone.

xoxo

Annie

[blubushie]

Stop it mate, you're embarrassing me!

But here's some more!

Once shot a razorback with a 185-grain round (I don't usually use rounds that heavy) and watched him flip head-over-heels and fall into a ditch. It was hilarious.

Have gotten high off cane toads. Do not recommend. It makes you vomit and the first time I did it I spewed so much I couldn't even properly enjoy the high. The second time was a fucking rollercoaster from start to finish. No spewing that time, though. The high doesn't last long but it's not for the faint of heart. Also: DO NOT FUCKING DO THIS IT'S VERY DANGEROUS.

Have been kicked by dead kangaroos during cadaveric spasms. Hurt like a fucking bitch. Lucky it didn't cut me. Have you seen kangaroo feet?

During pub fights: Been attacked with a knife. Had someone try to steal my wallet. Had a knife held to me neck. Have been headbutted. Once had a bloke headbutt me while I was wearing my hat and the croc teeth on my hat sliced open his forehead. Cheers, croc teeth.

Almost hanged meself when I was tied into a tree one night. Rope came loose, got wrapped around me neck, and I was dangling there 5m off the ground by my neck. I had to cut myself free and I no longer tie myself in.

Have dropped my rifle on my foot once. I'm lucky it's a bolt-action because there's a fair chance it would've blown me head off if it'd been anything else.

Was trekking through the bush, came down to a billabong for water, and came face-to-face with the biggest fucking buffalo I've ever seen. Scared me shitless.

Was groped by an ambassador monkey in San Diego. Not a bush experience, my dad just thought it was funny.

Had a koala try to climb me once. I was lucky I was wearing pants instead of shorts or I'd have scars. Have you seen koala claws?

Stepped on a sea urchin while diving at Red Rock. Have cut my foot on mussels. Have been cut by coral. Was stung by a carpet anemone in Bundaberg. Had my hand chomped by a baby blacktip shark once while fishing near Cairns. Didn't hurt.

Once lost a beautiful barramundi to a fucking crocodile up near Darwin. Cunt. That fish was over a metre.

While fishing the South Alligator River I was knocked out of my tinny by five-metre croc. Thought I was going to die. I'M STILL HERE, CUNT.

Have hit suicidal kangaroos no less than three times while driving. One was killed on impact, the other leapt off into the bush, the third was wounded with a bum leg so I put that one down and ate it.

Have eaten witchetty grubs. They're pretty good. Taste like almonds raw (wet, juicy almonds) but cooked they taste like scrambled eggs. The trick is that you hold the head in your fingers and bite the body off. Also, don't swallow the skin. Just chew until you get the good juices and guts out and then you spit the skin out.

Have had brushes with death more times than I can count. Almost died of dehydration twice (I take better care of myself now that I have Misty). Venomous snakes. Other dangerous wildlife. Cyclists. Nothing makes me more nervous than a cyclist that can't stay in the fucking bike lane.

Had a kid throw a rock at me fucking passenger window near Mt Isa and shattered it. Every now and then I still find pieces of glass. I ended up billing his tribe for it and there's a guarantee he won't do it again because his elder looked like he was going to beat that kid down to the white meat. Outback towns are dangerous, folks. (It wasn't targeted since I was walking back to Matilda when it happened, he was just being a cunt.)

Have had my tyres slashed. Had some kids take potshots at my tyres with a .22.

Once was stranded for three days in WA because I was stuck 100km from the nearest town in the fucking Nullarbor of all places and the RAC doesn't go that far. I lost the right front tyre, put on the spare, figured I'd get a new tyre when I got to Kalgoorlie. Got there, forgot about the fucking tyre, left in the morning, didn't remember until eight hours of driving later once I was in the middle of the fucking Nullarbor. Figured it could wait until I got to Cocklebiddy. Nope. Lost me LEFT front tyre on Highway 1. It took a day for some nice cockie to find me, another day to get a tyre, and then one more day to make it all the way back.

Dealing with suicidal emus deciding to run out in front of Matilda at the last fucking second.

Had my passenger mirror bashed by a bikie slamming into it helmet-first while trying to pass me up on the road once. I was driving slow because of the four cars ahead of me.

Stabbed a razorback with me knife when it charged me. I don't like pigs. The fucker RAN OFF WITH MY KNIFE STICKING OUT OF ITS NECK. I put a bullet in it and it stopped running.

Shot a cat and it was halfway down the gullet of a perentie when I got there.

FUCKING CANE TOADS.

Had to replace the antenna on Matilda when a fucking cockatoo landed on me bonnet and decided it took some offence to the presence of an antennae and snapped it off.

I've been shot in the arse. I'll speak no more on that topic.

Woke up surrounded by wallabies one morning. They're usually pretty skittish but I sit up in me swag, rub me eyes, and I'm staring down a mob of at least twenty wallabies, all eyes on me.

FUCKING CANE TOADS.

FUCKING SNAKES.

FUCKING GOANNAS.

FUCKING KANGAROOS.

FUCKING EMUS.

Love crocodiles though.

FUCKING WALLABIES.

Once shot a goat and sent it tumbling 275m down into a canyon.

Watched a rabbit try to root another rabbit after I'd shot it. I shot that one too.

I get a good vantage point sometimes depending on what I'm doing. Once watched a drunk bloke fall off a boat dock near Perth through me scope. He was fine, it was just really funny.

While working some station I saw the cockie's daughter having a root with one of the stationhands. We all had radios to keep in contact so I said over mine "I can see you" and the girl screamed. They went back to the barn after that. No business of mine, I just didn't want the bloke to catch a beating if her father found them. They're married now.

Got into some biff at a pub once because a bloke called me a poacher while I was talking to a mate about shooting dingos. Get fucked cunt, I am licenced.

That's about it but if I think of any in the future I'll add them here.

any bush stories you’d be interested in sharing?? Definitely not taking notes and using those said notes to help me better write sniper cough cough,, also genuinely interested!! Grew up in north-west wilderness and whatnot, would love to hear about what it’s like down in Australia!

I am genuinely honoured you're using me as inspiration! Here's some stories from Australia:

I've seen UFOs and other unexplainable lights multiple times.

Once when I was out in the bush I had a yahoo (basically Australian sasquatch) walk up to my camp. Scared me shitless, I screamed like a little girl, and then I threw the yam I was eating at him. He picked it up and walked off back into the bush. That happened almost three years ago and I'm not sure if my meat had gone bad and I was hallucinating but I told my Aboriginal mate about it and he just said I'm lucky the fucker didn't eat me because "They don't care for white fellas much."

Heard singing voices in an abandoned gold mine I was exploring like a dumb cunt. I ran out screaming when I heard a loud bang deeper in the mine.

Saw a bloke watching me from a window at Gwalia, which is an abandoned town with no residents (they all moved to nearby Leonora when the gold mine in Gwalia ran dry). I entered the home and no one was in there. Scared me shitless.

Once while camping near Uluru I had a young Aboriginal bloke (couldn't have been older than 16) walk up to me wearing nothing but a fucking loincloth in 4c weather. Keep in mind Uluru is fucking flat, there's no way this kid could have snuck up on me from 5 clicks away without me seeing him in the middle of the fucking night. He said he was from Anapala in South Aus (it hasn't been called Anapala since the 1970s when it was renamed Pukatja) and he had a Pitjantjatjara accent. He also had ritual scars on his arms which suggested he was a little older than he said he was. He said he hadn't eaten in a few days so I shared my rabbit with him. I let him sleep in my swag and when I woke up in the morning he was gone. No tracks, nothing. Disappeared into thin air. Absolutely convinced I met a fucking ghost.

Thought I was going to be eaten by a dropbear once. It was a flying fox. Still feel like an idiot for that one.

Found the tracks of a large cat (puma-sized, as wide as my palm) alongside a streambed in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney. They were fresh tracks since it rained a day earlier. I felt like I was being watched and got the fuck out of there.

I was chased 10km through Boulia by the Min Min Lights. I'm driving down the highway and there's these fucking lights behind me, I floor it because I think it's the cops, they keep following, Matilda's engine starts smoking so I pull over because I'm not going to blow my van's engine. Finally I pull over and the lights are just hovering about three metres off the ground, these fiery orbs. Scared me half to death and I got back in Matilda and kept driving. Eventually the lights just fizzled out and disappeared. I've only been back to Boulia once and I was on guard the entire time.

Once was surrounded by a pack of dingos (4-5 individuals) for an entire night. I had my rifle across my lap and my knife ready. Didn't get a wink of sleep. It's terrifying when you're the prey for once.

Had to bandage my arm with the rag I use for wiping down my rifle because a blackheaded python slithered into my engine in WA and snapped onto my arm when I tried lugging it out in the morning. I've since gotten a new rag for the rifle.

Woke up one morning to Misty going off like a frog in a sock. Turns out I had a bandy-bandy in me fucking swag. That was fun trying to get it out (bandy-bandys are elapids related to cobras, but their small fangs and low venom output means they're one of Australia's least deadly venomous snakes).

Stepped on an eastern brown while hunting in QLD. Leather boots saved me life. The fact I don't take Misty with me when I hunt saved hers.

Back in January I fell out of a tree while hunting, landing on my back, and pissed blood for a week. Figured I'd either be fine or lose a kidney. Honestly I've fallen out of trees more times than I can count. Eucalyptus doesn't hold weight very well.

Two years or so ago I was bitten by a metre-long saltwater crocodile while helping biologists do a survey in Kakadu. I've still got the scars on my left arm from where the cunt grabbed me. Little shit.

Got me foot stomped by a cow while helping a mate muster cattle.

Watched Polly up in Daly Waters kick a cunt once during a pub brawl that made it outside.

Had my hat chewed on by Blackface at that same pub. The hat escaped unscathed.

Once got into a tug-a-war over a pig I shot with a fucking perentie. Took me twenty minutes to trek up to where the pig was and when I got there the fucking perentie had its head buried up to its shoulders in the bloody carcass. The perentie didn't bite me but Lord knows it tried.

Burned my chest when a spent casing ejected and landed in my fucking shirt. I'm left-handed and shoot left-handed. My rifle is impossible to find with a left-handed bolt, so the casings eject across my body instead of away from me, and it landed in my shirt. I now wear undershirts when I work because that shit hurt. Thankfully it didn't leave a scar.

Nicked my wrist on the broadhead of an arrow once by accident.

Before I got my boots I had a piece of razor wire wedge itself into my shoe and slit my ankle open. It got infected, of course. Cleaned it with whisky and spent the next five minutes swearing a blue streak. It healed but I've got a scar.

Stung by a jellyfish on my hand when I was a kid. Did it again on my foot a few years ago. Luckily no scars, just felt like a massive bee sting.

Every time I hit a bump while driving I have some dust come down from the roof from a few years ago when I accidentally left a window cracked during a dust storm.

Was in WA when it snowed in 2021 during the night. Went to bed freezing and woke up to a white blanket.

Was tackled by a kangaroo while hunting once.

Got my name because I was a dumb cunt and went bushwalking and didn't bring enough water. I was dying of dehydration and living off nothing but bugs and my own piss for two days. Finally found a pond of the clearest water you'd ever see. Drank probably 3 litres, refilled my canteens. Had complete ego death and I walked out of the bush as a new person with a new name.

Once in the middle of the night up in Kakadu I was just sitting at my campfire as blokes do, it was foggy as shit, and out of the fog walks the most beautiful horse I've ever seen. This bastard was snow white with the prettiest brown eyes. He walks up to my fire, snorts, sniffs around at my tuckerbag, looks at me, and then just walks off back into the fog. Brumbies are fucking skittish so it was a magical moment.

Had a kookaburra steal a piece of jerky right out of my hand.

Dingos. So many dingos. Once shot a dingo in NSW—terrible shot on my part, I still feel terrible for it. The wind was higher than I would've liked and the bullet ended up too far back so it wasn't an immediate kill. His mates came over to check out the row and I watched through my scope as they started ripping him apart. I put another bullet in him because nothing deserves that. The second shot didn't miss.

Been in more pubfights than I can count. I don't start them.

Stepped on a kangaroo eyeball once by accident. Scrub your boots when you're done hunting because nothing will get the smell of summer-baked kangaroo brains out of your house.

Once killed two roos with one bullet.

CALIFORNIA: When I was eight years old my dad and I were hunting in NorCal and it'd rained the night before. We came across a streambed (keep in mind this was -2c weather) with footprints in it. These footprints were massive, about 40cm from heel to toe and wide as sin. They were accompanied by much smaller footprints about half that length. There's no way in hell someone with 40cm feet would be out there in -6c weather WITH A CHILD walking BAREFOOT through freezing water 8km from the nearest road between the time it rained (which would've washed away any prints) and sunrise. Dad and I found them at sunrise. Both of us are convinced we found fucking bigfoot footprints.

CALIFORNIA: Was stalked by a mountain lion for 1.5km.

[harrywavycurly]

*a/n Since I am a hoe for some sad angst and Lewis Capaldi’s new song has been on repeat…sorry in advance for whatever the hell you wanna call this I just had to like get it out lol*

I’m not ready, to find out you know how to forget me

Eddie feels his chest tighten as he catches a glimpse of you making your way through the crowded venue, he’s never been happier to just blend in with the people surrounding him since it allows him a little more time to get a better look at you as you stop just a few rows in front of him. He notices your hair has gotten longer and your arm has a few new splatterings of ink but he couldn’t quite make our their shapes, he smiles to himself when he thinks of the late nights spent talking about tattoo ideas while curled up on his bed. His smile falls when he watches an arm drape over your shoulder making you turn to the man who had suddenly appeared next to you, the smile you give him doesn’t quite reach your eyes as you slowly turn to look behind you. Eddie feels as if knees are about to give out as you look at him, directly in his eyes but it’s as if you’re looking straight through him. Nothing about your face would give the man next to you any idea that you once were madly in love with the long haired metalhead your eyes were locked in on and Eddie can almost feel his heart breaking inside his chest. It’s as if you didn’t know who he was, just another fan in the crowd at a concert you were attending and that’s when it hit him, maybe you’d finally forgotten all about him and your silly little high school romance.

I rather hear how much you regret me, and pray to god that you never met me, than forget me

You see him instantly, he was always one to stand out in a crowd even when he was surrounded by other metal heads you have always been able to point him out with little issue. You felt your heart drop to your stomach as you lock eyes with him, you see the hurt etched on his face and for once in all years you’ve known him you didn’t feel the need to fix it. Eddie was a walking, talking, living reminder of your past, a past that if someone asked you would admit you regret, and you weren’t in the mood for walking down memory lane so you just simply look past him. You felt the arm that was wrapped around your shoulder tighten as a set of lips placed a kiss to your temple as you continue looking around the venue. You could feel his eyes on you as you turn around and wrap your arm around the waist of the man next to you, the man who fell in love with the version of you that Eddie didn’t even know existed because it’s the version of yourself that’s been emotionally healed of all the wounds he had created over the course of your less than healthy relationship all those years ago.

I hate to know I made you cry but love to know I cross your mind

Eddie’s mind flashes back to the last time he saw you as he watches you sway back and forth to the music being played as the opening act got their instruments set up on the stage. It’s as if he can still hear the sound of your small sobs as you sat across from Nancy at Benny’s, you had no clue he was sat a few booths over getting a full on show as he sucked down a milkshake. He knew you were filling Nancy in on the fight the two of you had and how this time it was really over and Eddie remembers how his heart felt like it was breaking at the sight of your red eyes and puffy face but at the same time he figured tears meant you still cared and as long as you were thinking of him this whole thing was fixable. He was proven wrong as the days turned to weeks and soon he woke up to a box and a note waiting for him on his doorstep when he was leaving for school one morning. It was everything he had ever gotten you over the course of your relationship, Eddie felt like his world was crashing around him when he read the note and how you really were done with him this time. He figured this was gonna be like every other time, he gives you space and then you come back and he says sorry and everything is back to normal. He is brought back to reality as the lights go dim and the crowd erupts into fits of cheers and screams and he suddenly is very aware how everyone around him is having the time of their life while he is looking at the best part of his life be happier without him.

[mamaestapa]

“Smallville’s not so innocent after all, huh?”|| Smallville! Clark Kent x reader

summary: a surprise sleepover with clark leads to even more surprises in the morning…

pairing: teenage!clark kent x reader

warnings: mentions of sex (nothing happens, i promise lol), some small steamy scenes, and lots of flustered clark and fluff :)

The hot water ran down your back as you washed your arms with whatever body wash was currently in Clark’s shower. The fragrance didn’t matter to you, all that mattered was that you were able to clean your body.

You had spent the night at Clark’s last night. Your parents were out of town for the weekend and they didn’t want you home by yourself, so you needed somewhere to stay while they were gone. Your best friend Lana was staying with her boyfriend, Jason, over the weekend, and Chloe was too occupied with who knows what. That left you with your boyfriend Clark and his family. The Kent’s were more than happy to let you stay with them. Martha and Jonathan Kent just adore you. It makes them so happy to see how much you love and care about their son. After all, you are his first love as Martha likes to say.

Chloe’s cousin Lois Lane was staying with the Kent’s for a little while, so Martha had set up a nice spot for you to sleep in their living room since Lois was in the guest room. Even though you and Clark are dating, Martha and Jonathan have strict rules on when you can be in Clark’s room. The door had to be open at all times when you’re up there and you absolutely could NOT be up in Clark’s room at night. You and Clark are teens though, and when you tell a teenager that they can’t do something, well, they’ll do it anyways.

When Martha and Jonathan had finally gone to bed, you snuck upstairs into Clark’s bedroom. Every night you stayed over, he always greeted you with his signature sweet smile and open arms. You always happily snuggled into his warm embrace and fell right asleep, until Clark would wake you up so you both wouldn’t get caught breaking the rules.

As you turned the shower off, you heard the bathroom door open.

“Hello?”

The door shut.

“Hey Y/n.”

You sighed in relief. It was just Clark. Grabbing your towel, you wrapped it around your body before stepping out of the shower, so you could greet your boyfriend.

You smiled, “Hi.”

He kissed your cheek as he handed you one of his flannels.

“My mom is doing your laundry, so I brought you one of my flannels to wear until it’s done. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

I took the flannel from him, thanking him. “I don’t mind at all. Thank you, Clark.”

He smiled warmly, “Anything for my girl.”

Your cheeks flushed as he spoke. Clark always had a way with his words. As you were drying yourself off, Clark had gotten into the shower and quickly washed himself.

You were brushing your hair as Clark was drying off and getting dressed in the shower. He had respected your privacy while you got dressed, so of course you did the same with him. Your boyfriend opened the shower curtain and stepped out of the tub, throwing his towel on the floor. You looked at Clark through the mirror, a playful smirk was on his face as he walked towards you. He wrapped his muscular arms around your waist, pulling your body into his.

You giggled, “Clark, what are you-.”

He slowly moved his head toward your neck. You could feel his hot breath against your neck my as his lips touched your bare skin. You turned your head to the side, biting your lip slightly as he continued to leave kisses on your neck. His hands began to roam your body, causing your breath to hitch in the back of your throat. Clark sucked the area just below your right ear, leaving a small purple hickey once he pulled away.

“Clark…” you breathed out in pleasure. Your boyfriend chuckled at your response to his actions. He gently squeezed your hips before he pulled the sleeve of his flannel you were wearing, exposing your shoulder blade. He left a trail of kisses along your shoulder, making you lean into his touch even more.

Clark Kent was your weakness, and boy did he know it.

He lifted his head and moved his arms so he could wrap them around your whole body, instead of just your waist.

You whined softy, “Clark, why do you have to do this to me?”

He chuckled as he planted a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m sorry, i just couldn’t help myself.” He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You look so sexy in my flannel.”

You felt chills go up your spine in response to his words. Clark smirked at you through the mirror before pulling the other sleeve of the flannel down so he could do the same thing to your other shoulder.

You let out a quiet moan, or at least, one that you thought was quiet. He lifted his head up and bit his lip, his blue eyes full of lust as he watched and listened to your response to what he was doing to you.

“Clark…don’t stop…” you said, breathlessly. You hoped this would lead into something more…

Clark turned you around and crashed his lips against yours, the two of you sharing a passionate kiss. He began to pull his flannel off of you, his blue eyes full of love and lust. You could feel your body’s anticipation of this moment growing with each move he made. Wanting to speed the process up a bit more, you began to pull Clark’s shirt off as well. Oh how you and Clark were ready to-

“So, Smallville’s not so innocent after all, huh?”

You quickly pulled yourself away from Clark. Both of you pulling your shirts down in the process.

You gulped as you turned around to see a smirking Lois Lane, who was standing in the doorway of the bathroom holding a basket full of your clean laundry.

You and Clark were both flustered messes while Lois just stood there and smirked at the two of you.

She cleared her throat, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Y/n, Mrs. Kent wanted me to bring you these.” She gestured to the basket in her hands.

“T-Thank you.”

She nodded, “Mhm…”

You glanced up at Clark, noticing how nervous he looked.

“Lois,” he said, “I know it looks like we were-.”

Lois laughed, “Oh I’ll tell you what it looks like. Could probably tell you what it sounded like too. You guys aren’t the most…quiet.”

You sighed, “Oh god.”

Lois laughed again, “Oh don’t worry sweetie. I only heard just a few moans and a ‘oh clark, don’t stop’.” She imitated you, causing your embarrassment to increase and your blush to redden even more.

“Seriously Lois, we weren’t doing what you thought we were doing.” Clark said, crossing his arms.

Lois nodded, “Whatever you say Clark. Her neck says otherwise.”

Clark stayed silent as he grew even more flustered. You groaned, covering your face.

“Hey I get it, I was a teen in high school once too.” Lois smirked, “Just…be careful.”

You nodded as you fiddled with your fingers. Clark awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. Lois couldn’t contain her giggles as she watched how flustered the two of you still were. She placed the laundry basket down and walked out of the bathroom. However, she stopped midway while walking out of the room.

“By the way, Mrs. Kent has breakfast ready downstairs. So if I was you,” she gestured to you and Clark, “I’d try to finish this up.”

“Thanks Lois.” You smiled tightly.

A smug smile was on her face as she waved, “Yup.”

Lois shut the door behind her, leaving you and Clark alone in the bathroom once again.

“Clark, I am so sorry.”

Clark grabbed your hand, gently squeezing it, “What are you sorry for? You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/n.”

You smiled. Clark was right, you didn’t really have anything to be sorry for. You just felt bad for getting caught by Lois. Clark wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. You rested your head against his chest, and wrapped your arms around his muscular middle.

“I love you, Clark.”

He smiled and kissed the top of your head, “I love you too beautiful.”

You pulled away, a smile on your face. “Now let’s go get some breakfast, I’m starving.”

Clark chuckled as you grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the bathroom. The two of you walked down the stairs, the overwhelming smell of bacon and waffles filled your nostrils. Clark’s stomach growled, causing you to giggle.

“Come on my love.” You said, leading him into the kitchen.

As the two of you entered the kitchen, you were greeted by a smiling Martha and Jonathan, and a still smirking Lois.

“Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Kent.” You smiled.

“Good morning, Y/n.” Jonathan replied, a warm smile on his face.

“Good morning Y/n! Help yourself to anything.” Martha smiled as she placed more bacon onto a plate. You thanked her as you grabbed a plate. Clark’s parents said their good mornings to their son as he walked in the room behind you. After you filled your plate with bacon, waffles, and fresh fruit, you sat down at the kitchen table in a chair across from Lois. She handed you a glass of orange juice.

“Thanks Lois.” you smiled.

“You two must be starving, you’ve been up for a while.” Martha said as she poured batter into the waffle maker.

Lois smirked, “I think they already ate Mrs. Kent.”

You spit your orange juice back into the cup while you heard Clark clear his throat.

“Excuse me?” Jonathan asked, putting his paper down on the table.

Lois shook her head, “Oh nothing. I just said they already ate, Mr. Kent.”

Clark put his plate down next to yours and sighed. You sunk down in your chair slightly, giving Clark’s father a small smile.

“Did you guys go out and get breakfast?” Martha asked, her eyebrows coming together in confusion.

“We-.” Clark started, but was cut off.

“Something like that.” Lois smirked as she took a sip of her orange juice.

Oh how you wished Lois would just shut her mouth. You looked over at Clark, he glanced over at you and gulped nervously.

“Clark.” Jonathan said, crossing his arms, “answer your mother’s question please.”

Clark’s mouth moved, but no words came out. You placed your hand on his thigh, squeezing it gently.

“Mr. Kent-.” You spoke.

“Not now, Y/n.” He said, holding his hand up at you to stop you from talking.

“Dad.”

Jonathan scoffed, “Clark. I was talking to you, not Y/n.”

Clark stood up from his chair, “Don’t talk to my girlfriend like that.”

You grabbed Clark’s hand, trying to pull him back down into his chair. Of course, he didn’t budge.

“Clark, it’s okay.” you said softly. He looked down at you, sighing as he saw you give him a look that pleaded him to sit back down. Once he sat down you whispered, “Let’s just…explain. The best we can.” He nodded, giving you a small smile.

“Y/n and I didn’t…eat already. Lois is just joking around.” he cleared his throat as his parents urged him to continue, “There’s a joke, that uh, that people use to joke about certain things. You know those other natural things that you can be, um. That you can be deprived of…not just food.”

You smacked your face lightly and shook your head as you listened to Clark awkwardly explain the situation to his parents.

“What kind of joke, Clark?” Jonathan asked.

Clark looked at you for help and you just shrugged, not knowing how to help.

“A sex joke.” he said softly, only you could hear him.

Martha cocked her head to the side, “A what? I didn’t hear you.”

Clark cleared his throat, but you spoke before he could.

“A sex joke. Lois was making a sex joke…” You let out a heavy sigh and sat back in your chair as you watched Jonathan and Martha’s faces twist in horror.

“But we were just kissing. After our shower-showers, we just kissed. That’s all.” Clark spoke, trying to ease his parents thoughts and horrified expressions.

Lois chuckled, “Uh huh…”

Clark rolled his eyes. Martha squinted at Clark as she looked at him. She always did that whenever she caught Clark in a lie. The truth is, Clark wasn’t really lying to his parents. The two of you did just kiss, there was nothing more. Except for the fact that you almost took it further, but that’s beside the point.

“Clark,” she sighed, “I can’t. Jonathan?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t even know what to say to them.”

Oh how you wanted this moment to end. You’ve never felt more awkward and embarrassed in your whole life.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kent,” you started, “I am so sorry. I promise you though that Clark and I didn’t do anything else but kiss! Lois just walked in on us and she assumed we had been doing other things.”

Jonathan and Martha just nodded. Lois sighed, standing from her spot at the table.

“She’s right. I walked in on them at the wrong moment, and I’m sorry. And the joke, well, I’m sorry about that too.”

She chuckled to herself, “But come on, you have to admit it was pretty funny.”

The silence in the room echoed. No one replied, the four of you just looked at Lois. Her cheeks flushed as she cleared her throat, “Sorry, sorry.” She sat back down and chugged the rest of her orange juice.

“It’s alright, Lois.” Jonathan nodded, giving her a small smile. He turned to you and Clark, “But you two,”

You and Clark both nodded, knowing what was coming.

He sighed,“Martha and I aren’t upset. You guys are teenagers. You’re boyfriend and girlfriend. You’re going to do things that Martha and I have no control over. However, we do have boundaries in this house.”

You nodded, “I know, I’m sorry Mr. Kent.”

“It’s alright. Like I said, I can’t control what you do.”

Martha spoke up, “But we can at least try. Clark, your father and I have these rules in place because we’re looking out for you. We’re looking out for you too, Y/n.”

Clark nodded, “I understand. It won’t happen again, we promise.”

“Yes, we do.” You replied, giving the Kent’s a smile.

Martha smiled, “Good. A baby is a lot to take care of, and at your-.”

“Woah!” Jonathan exclaimed.

“Yeah mom, who said anything about babies?”

Martha chuckled, “No one, I’m just explaining why Your father and I have certain rules in place for when Y/n comes over.”

You smiled, “Well Mrs. Kent, I promise you, you don’t have to worry about any baby Kents running around anytime soon.”

“Good. I can barely handle one big Smallville. Could you imagine a mini Smallville running around here?” Lois spoke.

“No, I don’t even want to think about it.” Jonathan replied.

You all laughed and agreed with Jonathan. You didn’t want to think about it either. Even though a mini Clark would be adorable. Someday Y/n, someday…you thought to yourself.

After talking for a little while more and sharing some laughs together, you all finished up with breakfast. While you laughed at a story Clark’s dad was telling, Clark had his arm around the back of your chair as his other hand was stroking your hand that he held. You gave him a warm smile as he looked down at you with his gaze full of love.

Sleepovers at the Kent’s house were always full of surprises, but one thing was for sure.

You could stay there forever as long as you’re with Clark.

A/N: hey babes!!<3 so this has turned into a Smallville!Clark Kent imagines account lol. there’s not a enough imagines of him, so someone’s got write some, right? i’ll probably end up posting a couple more here and there in the next few months! also, i apologize for not getting any multifandom requests out. i’m way behind, and i’m hopefully going to work on those soon. i cant make any promises though, but i will do my very best! i hope you’re all doing well<3

[saynomorepunk]

if you take requests, could you write sevika x reader where the reader has an obvious crush on her? maybe they do that cliché sparring thing where sevika pins them down n they get so flustered they accidentally confess? 👀

Thanks for waiting! I struggled a bit with it, I don't know why I wanted that angst in the sparring so I had to contextualize a bit ._.

Sevika x gn!reader (1,200 words) jealousy / angst

You joined Silco’s men after Jayce closed the bridge, wanting to make a difference for the Lanes' future. You were young and had no specific skills to bring to the lot but you figured you could help. Silco dismissed you as fast as he had welcomed you. His verdict was clear, you needed training. Just as for most of his other tasks, he charged Sevika to teach you the basics on how to fight and mostly how to handle yourself.

At first, the imposing woman didn’t seem pleased. You were one more thing on her list of to-dos and she was, well, tired. Although, never in her right mind would she have told no to Silco. Besides, she prefers this to looking after Jinx who, she thought, was way less predictable than you and who, targeting Sevika’s biggest pet peeve, could never play fair.

You started training with her two hours every day. Bedroom hair, raspy voice and yawning, she would spar with you first thing in the morning. It would take her about 20 minutes in training to be fully up. Still, she was unbeatable even in her slumbery state.

The first few days, you didn’t know how to feel about the woman. She wasn’t particularly nice to you, always calling you out on your foot placements and saying how weak you throw a punch, slightly mocking you. You felt small and as if whatever you’d do would never be enough. However, you were settled on becoming good and started expanding your training to observations.

Whenever Sevika was around, you looked at her, analyzing how she stood, acted, stared, punched… Your brain tricked you into thinking it was a work thing, you just wanted to become a little more like her : determined, strong… mysterious and handsome. Handsome ? Did you say handsome ? Was it the exhaustion you felt in your body or were you just becoming more and more sensitive to her charms ?

According to the growing number of nights you started dreaming of her and of how she could push you to the very edge, it seemed like you had developed a mean crush on the ‘scary’ lady. You started seeing her morning raspy voice as a blessing you could wake yourself to every morning. You felt her hand lingering on yours when she helped you get up from a fall. You were overthinking every move she made and every word she said.

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

After a few weeks, your technique was getting better, she thought so as well, she wouldn’t tell you that but on rare occasions you could see a proud smile in the corner of her lips when you actually made a good offensive. She started talking to you outside of your morning training. She would give you a nod when she’d see you at the Last Drop and she invited you to join her to play cards a few times.

You liked her. You really like her a lot. And you were very appreciative of how physically close sparring got you to be.

But last night… last night you lost it a little. After a long day of work, you were hoping to find her at the Last Drop. You thought you would try something, buy her a drink or some dumb shit like that. You wanted her to get it, you wanted her to know just how she made you feel and how much you were thinking about her. On arriving at the bar, you knew she wasn’t there. Silco’s goons were a little too loud for her to be close. « Do you know where Sevika is ? » « Oh, ya’know hard day today, needa-blow-off-some-steam kinda day. The girls just sounded so happy to see her back, I mean, it’s been a while… longer than usual since last time … » « Yeah kay, I get it, I don’t need the specifics. » You cut the conversation short.

Back to your room, you just felt sick. Jealous as fuck. Afterall, she could do whatever. It was her life. Her strong body she let some whore play with. Her stupid grunts that she gave you in loads when sparring but had the freaking oddacity to share with a fucking slut. You couldn’t stop imagining her, master of her own pleasure, ordering a girl around and getting what she wanted.

The next day, you arrived late. You didn’t know if you would actually go until the last minute. Sevika was waiting. She looked relaxed even though she was annoyed you made her wait. « First time in 3 weeks, you couldn’t actually be there on time ? What happened ? » You gave her an annoyed smile, not responding. Without disclaimer you started attacking, punching her perfect stomach. She was caught by surprise, breath cut with a ‘omph’ sound. She frowned, not understanding where your sudden moodiness came from. She held her guard up. You did a judo-type roll to her left and attempted to strike her jaw. You noticed hickeys along her neck. With an angered scream, you were ready to strike again before she shook her head sweeping off the effect of the lastest punch and charged on you. You fell on your back and she pinned you down blocking your arms as you tried to get her to let you go. « Hey ! Why in the hell would you be such a brat ? What’s your fucking problem ? » She was looking at you intensely trying to understand what was going on in your brain. You, on the other hand, wouldn't meet her eyes. « Look at me, y/n ! » She closed her thighs tighter on each side of your hips. « Stop moving ! » « Fucking let go of me ! » You were still trying to get yourself out of her grip. When you saw that she wasn’t moving, you finally looked at her with a killing stare. Her eyebrows rose, she looked surprised. Your eyes trailed down to her neck, looking at the fresh purple marks there before coming back up to her lips. Her lips fell open, she looked at you closely, from one eye to the other ending then on your lips. The hate in your eyes lighted something in her and just like that she kissed you. The kiss was short but intense, you hungrily and hastily added your tongue to whatever this mess was. She couldn’t restrain a small groan as she bit your lower lip before letting go of it. She touched her neck, where her hickeys were. « If you want something. You just have to fucking ask. » She let go of your arms and stood up holding out her hand to help you up. You didn’t take it, feeling still too angered and proud. « Well, I want you to stop banging fucking prostitutes. You’ve got too much energy ? Come and take ME down. I’m the one in training… and there are a lot of things I’m willing to learn.» Sevika stood back, she wasn’t expecting you to talk back like that. She was starting to enjoy that fiery attitude a little too much. The very same night she held you to your words and had you called to her very own quarters. She had, indeed, a lot of pent up energy, and it seemed like she kept it all for you.

[unholyhelbig]

More fencer reader please? I am in love.

[A/N: You've got it! I'm glad you guys are liking the fencing AU, I'm thinking about one more part after this, let me know what you think!]

Summary: Kate and y/n take a trip down memory lane when they visit their old stomping ground for a presentation.

Masterlist | Send me Prompts | Join my Tag List

Dt: @kacka84 @littlebluestone @143bc @ohmy-godyes

En Garde! Kate Bishop Pt.3 | Kate Bishop x GN Reader

“This is quite possibly your worst idea.” You were fighting diligently against the cold of the New York morning. The heating unit in your used car had given up on you months ago, so you resorted to public transit and your sheer force of will. Summers were never bad, but March was a different story. March had an unusually high libido for snow and biting wind.

Kate was curled into herself in your passenger seat, her breath fogging in front of her. There was a bit of red to her nose and her cheeks, bringing out the steely color in her eyes. There was a bit of playfulness to her smile.

“Aw, come on now, I’ve had worse ideas.”

You gave her a skeptical look and struggled to get our car over a particularly slick patch of ice. It made an odd hissing noise but sighed in relief as the tires hit asphalt once more. It had been a slow drive towards the high school the two of you attended years ago, taking twice as long as the snow fell in fluffy sheets.

They had both been included in an email chain from the school asking to return and give a lengthy speech and demonstration about the benefits of college and where they were now. You didn’t know how they got your email address and from the edged look in Kate’s stare as she sipped on a smoothie, you were sure she was in the same boat.

Shockingly she agreed, and so had you. It was tempting to delete the message, but there was something to be said about Kate’s puppy dog eyes. They were deadly and made you unbelievably thankful for the masks used in fencing. You wouldn’t even place if she pulled those out during a match.

“Yeah, I suppose.” You turned onto another country road, car groaning “Why us, though? It feels kind of like a trap.”

“I’m the epitome of success,”

“Uh-huh, same here. I co-own a very fancy bakery and teach children how to wield pointed sticks.”

“I single-handedly destroyed a historical clocktower, so I think I’ve got you beat.”

You couldn’t argue with her there. Admittedly, you had googled it when you got home that first night. Kate, in her odd fashion, attached a weighted tennis ball to one end of an arrow and shot it into the middle of the bell, which proceeded to crack and crumble and bring the whole structure down. So instead, you laughed.

The sound seemed to mix with the sputtering of your engine.

“Why are we slowing down?” Kate twisted in her seat, staring down the near desolate road lined with stretching oaks on either side. They had long ago lost their leaves, snow, and ice collecting against bare branches.

Smoke started to pour from under the hood, the engine gurgling as you used your last bit of strength to pull to the side of the road. It crackled and then sighed, and then died entirely. Leaving the two of you in silence as it huffed like a dragon.

You have been nursing this car since graduation and figured that it would give out on you one day. These circumstances, however, were not in your deck of cards. Kate had never been in your car before, and until last week she had been at the back of your mind. Never quite gone, but never like this.

You cupped the back of your neck and smiled nervously “heh, don’t suppose you have triple A?”

“Uh,” she drew out the word followed by a long enough pause to know when you were out of luck.

You pulled your phone from the center console. You had zero bars and the cold was beginning to bite through the windows. The school was only three miles up the road, an easy walking distance that would get you there in enough time. So, you exited the car and shouldered your fencing bag, passing Kate hers too.

“I’m sorry about this. I can’t believe Flash died on me like this. We can call a tow truck at the school.”

She smiled, breath materializing in front of her as you both began to walk along the side of the road. “You named your car Flash?”

“Hey, don’t judge. I’m a comic book buff, and at one point, he could really pull some speed.”

She nudged your arm as you walked, warm against your skin. She smelled like mint, it mixed with the outdoors and the snow and the simplicity of it all. You shoved your hands into your pockets, trying to regain some feeling.

“I didn’t know that”

“At the risk of sounding cliché, you don’t know a lot of things about me, Kate Bishop. We were too involved in our silly little fencing feud to ask the basic stuff.”

“Silly,” She scoffed, smirking “Alright, then. Let’s play twenty questions.”

“We’re not six,”

“No, we’re in our twenties walking to school in the dead of winter. Do you suggest we get there in silence?”

She had a point. It could distract you from the cold and the way your toes were losing feeling. Besides Kate pulled out the puppy dog eyes, lilting her head to the side and jutting her lip out. She adjusted the bag on her shoulder, working her fingers under the strap.

“Fine, fine.” You grumbled “Favorite color?”

“You have to guess.”

“Kate, that’s literally the opposite of the game.” You frowned and she deadpanned you “purple?”

By the smirk against her lips, you knew you had hit the nail on the head. She always had the color accented on her gym bag, water bottle, and clothes.

“You like red.” She stated in a matter-of-fact tone “I remember junior year during nationals for gymnastics. You dyed a streak of your hair fire engine red right before the competition. The bathroom looked like a damn murder scene, but I’ve never seen you prouder than that moment.”

You softened at this, taking in the determination that Kate carried like the pack over her shoulder. That had been a turning point for you. If you couldn’t be better than her, you could make a bigger statement. You’d been disqualified and watched as she won the top ranks. It somehow hurt less that time. You didn’t realize she would remember.

“Favorite animal?” She asked you, moving on from the question as a different type of heat scattered across her features.

“Fuck… dude, you love sharks.” She squinted at you; breath caught “Don’t give me that look. In fifth grade, they literally had to tear you away from the tiger shark exhibit on that field trip. You went kicking and screaming, and I admired you for that.”

In fact, Kate hadn’t fully calmed down until one of the chaperones forked up twenty-five dollars for a tiger shark plush that she held tightly to her chest as she sniffled away the tears. For all you knew, she still had the thing stashed away in her apartment.

She puffed out her chest “Sometimes you have to fight for what you want, Y/n”

“Ah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

The two of you had reached the entrance to the school, a large drive protected by iron gates and a code that only faculty knew. The courtyards between the stone buildings were still impeccably green despite the bitter cold. Your chest pinched. You were an adult, this wasn’t scary, or at least, it shouldn't be. But Kate’s hand tightened against the strap of her bag as she drew in a deep breath.

“Too late to walk the other way and find a diner with some coffee?” You asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

A woman that you vaguely recognized from your days within the walls caught both of you in her sightline. She looked older and grayer and still moved with the expectancy of a spring chicken. She crossed the green, your hand finding the small of Kate’s back. She glanced at you tenderly. You could nearly swear that she leaned into it.

“Is that Miss Bishop and Y/N!” She squinted against the sun, voice unbelievably peppy as she came up to the fence and clicked in the code. The door creaked and groaned like it usually did, the two of you stepping back to allow ample room.

Miss Maxine, you remembered her now. She was shrouded in the back of the office most days, the assistant to the super Intendant. She would get coffee and write pink slips, and often lingered without a word. Now she forced conversation and a sunny disposition.

“I can’t thank you two enough for agreeing to this. Where are your cars?” She asked, pulling the gate open further to allow access to a vehicle. “We have a backlot you can pull into.”

“We parked up the road,” You laughed nervously, “It’s a nice day for a walk.”

Miss Maxine leveled the two of you, one hand on the metal, the other scratching the back of her neck. She started off in her earnest southern charm “I don’t want you to take any offense to this, but you drove here… together?”

“Oh yeah,” Kate nodded enthusiastically “We go to the same gym.”

“And she’s an excellent baker.” You added.

“Please, all I did was assist. You did the leg work.”

Miss Maxine closed the gate and chuckled to herself as the lock clicked into place. You tried to ease the feeling of flight out of your bones, the same one you got each time you appeared on this campus. Professional adults, you both were professional adults and this was fine.

“Now, we never said this about you kids when you attended here” She started, using her little legs to gain speed. You had to take quick steps to keep up with her. “But your feud was one for the ages. We figured you hated each other enough to never speak again after graduation.”

Kate made a face at you that Miss Maxine thankfully couldn’t’ see. You had to hold back a laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with a little healthy competition. Is there a phone we can use? We don’t have service.”

“We have a landline in the front office.” She stopped in front of the stone building that lead to the auditorium. “You can use it after the demonstration.”

“Demonstration?” Kate swallowed hard, “like, showing the ins and outs of fencing?”

“Oh, no, sweetie” Miss Maxine laughed and turned to face both of you “We’ve set up the stage for a match first. The new fencing team is excited to see how you’ve progressed.”

You lifted an eyebrow at the girl to your side. She shrugged and gave you a nervous smile. “Heh, that wasn’t in the email”

Miss Maxine patted the side of Kate’s face sweetly “You never were good at reading the fine print.”

[mischiefandspirits]

Bernard Figures It Out

Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...

"I've connected the two dots."

"You didn't connect shit."

"I've connected them."

Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.

Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.

The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.

There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.

What was he missing?

Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.

Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”

“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”

Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”

“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.

“What?”

He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”

A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”

“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”

“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”

“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”

“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”

“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”

“But it’s Metropolis.”

“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”

Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.

“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”

“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.

“You know I prefer twinks.”

“BERNARD!”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”

Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”

“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”

Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.

“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”

That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.

“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”

Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.

“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”

“And the actual story?”

“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”

“Isn’t Signal also Black?”

“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”

“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”

“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”

Ouch. Sorry, Dick.

“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”

“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.

“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”

Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”

“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”

Tim pressed his face back into his hands.

“You see it, right?”

Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”

“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”

“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.

“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”

“Why would Bruce do that?”

“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”

“And two plus two is?”

Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”

Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”

“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”

Oh my god.

“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”

Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?

“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”

“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”

“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”

“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”

“Let me guess…”

Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”

Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”

“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”

Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”

“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”

“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.

Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”

Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”

Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”

“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”

“The what?”

“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”

… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”

“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”

“Gross.”

“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”

“No.”

“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”

“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”

“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”

“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”

Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”

Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”

“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”

“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”

“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”

Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”

“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”

Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”

Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”

Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”

“Huh… And the others?”

“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.

“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”

“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.

“He’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.

The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”

“Sure, Bernard.”

[eloves-writes]

a failed attempt to hate you

(tristan dugray)

a/n: i can only apologise if this writing is terrible, i wrote most of this in the middle of the night hopped up on medication for my disgusting cold. i hope it makes sense. anywho thanks for reading, enjoy, mwah <3

screw mr medina for making you help tristan study. you knew he knew from rory your inherent disdain for him, and it wasn’t your fault he was falling behind therefore not your responsibility to help him (as you had told mr medina last tuesday, with no effect). it was now sunday morning and you held little hope he would actually show up this time; he had somehow managed to cancel on your little study date 6 times already and it had only been 5 days since you were handed this apparently mammoth task. honestly, you didn’t expect him to show up at all, especially not anytime before noon- for which reasons you had made the decision put on your usual lazy sunday morning reading in bed get-up, which included (but was not limited to) an oversized rock concert shirt rory’s friend lane had given you in an attempt to clear her closet of non-christian attire, nothing but underwear underneath since you wouldn’t plan on leaving the comfort of your bedsheets for many hours, and a loose silk scrunchie you accidentally stole from rory keeping your hair out of your eyes. 

your book of choice today was ‘harry potter and the goblet of fire’ , the most recently released chapter of the boy wizard’s adventures at hogwarts. the clock beside you read 9:15 as you comfied yourself for a morning of magic and adventure, which naturally was ended a mere 8 minutes later at 9:23 when the doorbell rang downstairs. you assumed your mother would answer it, but when it rang a second time you remembered your parents had both gone out to watch your sibling’s soccer match and you’d have to get it yourself.

it didn’t even cross your mind to put pants on, or that it may not be the postman at the door, until you opened it to see your very favourite chilton student whose eyes had hastily wandered to your bare legs. typical high school boy, you thought to yourself before your brain actually grasped the situation and kick started into action.

‘tristan. hi.’ you said with a slight shock in your voice.

‘erm, hi. i hope i’m not interrupting anything,’ he smirked, glancing down at your thighs again.

you rolled your eyes so aggressively you hoped mr medina could hear it from wherever he was spending his day, irritating boy-less and free to do whatever he wanted with his time.

‘you’re not,’ you quipped. ‘i just didn’t expect you to actually show up this time. and early may i add, i’m sure we said 11.’

‘we did, but i’ve got plans later so i thought i’d come by earlier and get this over with.’

‘how did you know i didn’t have plans? i might have been busy before 11.’

he pulled a face of amusement and you could swear you saw a hint of sarcasm shining through his eyes too. ‘right. are you done talking now or can i come in?’

‘you can come in, i guess,’ you sighed, closing the door behind him and showing him to the kitchen table. ‘wait here, i’ll go and get my books.’

‘grab some pants whilst you’re at it.’

‘stop talking,’ you called as you walked upstairs.

you came back downstairs a few minutes later fully-clothed and carrying your english notes to see that tristan had wandered from the chair you specifically remembered telling him to sit in, and was instead tracing a finger along the bookcase that stretched across the far wall of your living room. for a moment you just watched him nosey into your life; the framed certificates, the family photos, the 5 tapes of ‘beauty and the beast’ stacked atop of each other because it was your favourite film when you were 9 and practically every living relative had bought you a copy. beside those was a picture of you dressed as princess belle at disneyworld with chocolate ice cream smeared from cheek to cheek, a huge smile plastered between. tristan picked it up and turned to face you.

‘thoroughly adorable. seriously, you should go for this look more often.’

‘ha ha,’ you grimaced, snatching it off him and placing it back on the shelf. ‘are we studying or reminiscing on my past fashion choices?’ 

‘oo, someone’s in a good mood this morning huh,’ he teased. you pulled another face, once again silently cursing mr medina for completely ruining not just your day, but in fact your whole week. by god this boy got more irritating the more time you spent with him- it had only been 10 minutes, but it was 10 minutes longer than you ever previously had or ever wanted to.

 ‘can i get a drink before we start?’ he asked, redirecting the conversation and walking past you back into the kitchen. he began opening various cupboards, searching for a glass. ‘where’s the-’

‘why yes, tristan. you can have a drink,’ you snarked, opening the cupboard behind him with a dramatic flourish. he raised his eyebrows at you and reached forward to grab a glass, leaning over you as he did so. you caught a whiff of his cologne and almost forgot to dislike him for a moment.

‘there’s, um, soda in the ... fridge,’ you told him, voice unwillingly faltering as he looked down to meet your eyes. he had pretty eyes. pretty, blue, sparkling, stupid, annoying, asshole eyes. 

you found the thick tension sickening. you refused to be another girl at school who simply swooned over him when he walked past your locker. you didn't like him. you were here to teach him english. because he was dumb. and actually, his eyes weren’t that nice.

he grabbed a soda out of the fridge and you both sat down at the table and began reading through your analysis of ‘to kill a mockingbird’, adamantly pretending not to see him staring at you the whole time. 

why? he had had every popular and pretty girl in the whole of chilton, how was he ever so starved of female attention that he would look at you so admirably when you liked to make it clear you despised him? in fact, you enjoyed making a special effort to flip him off, or pull a face at him when he walked by, or kick his chair extra hard in spanish, or... oh shit. you had seen it from an outside point of view now, and it was glaringly obvious; maybe you did like him, just a little bit. shit. rory owed lorelai 10$ and a cheeseburger from luke’s, though you didn’t want to have to admit she was right when she’d said you were like a kindergarten boy pulling a girl’s ponytails because he thought she was pretty.

‘hey tristan,’ you started, breaking the comfortable silence between his questions and suddenly nervous to talk to him. stupid, it was still the exact same boy you’d been complaining about all week, nothing new. 

he looked up from your notes. ‘what’s up princess?’ 

that was definitely new.

‘don’t call me princess’ -he smirked irritatingly- ‘do you need to stay much longer? i mean, is there anything else you want help with?’

‘trying to get rid of me?’

‘no! no. i just thought that you’d only stay and pretend to listen to me for like, half an hour then vanish. it’s 11:30 and you’ve been through my whole binder.’

‘it is? time flies.’

‘tristan.’

‘i do care about my grades, you know. and you’re a good teacher, i might have a chance at an A.’

‘why didn't you show up the last 6 times we planned then?’

he put down his pen- your pen, actually. it had pink sparkles on the lid. ‘got to keep up my street cred.’

‘ha ha. funny,’ you replied as blankly as possible, pulling back a smile you could feel in your stomach. you made eye contact again and, like every other time since you’d sat down and started studying, you held each other’s gaze for longer than necessary. funny how realising you like someone makes you suddenly act like it.

‘i should get going then right,’ he said, picking his jacket from the back of his chair.

you felt weird, almost as if you didn't want him to leave after praying earlier he wouldn't show up. alas, your parents would be home soon and you would be willing to bet money that tristan would have some interesting jokes about your being home alone that would not slide with your dad.

‘yeah. i hope you get that A,’ you said, accidentally smiling as you walked him to the door.

tristan turned to lean on the frame of the now-open door and put on a face of mock surprise. ‘my, my, y/n. was that a kind comment and a smile? you’re spoiling me.’

‘shut up, i hope you fail.’

he smiled back. ‘you really mean that?’

‘i guess not.’

there was yet another beat of heavy silence.

‘see you monday.’

‘see you monday.’

you closed the front door as he walked down the drive, but noticed tristan’s car keys still sat on the kitchen table. a porsche, of course. you picked them up and reopened the door to his fist poised to knock. the two of you laughed awkwardly for a second.

‘i forgot my-’

‘you forgot your-’

another awkward laugh. jesus christ this was uncomfortable. you passed him the keys, and with absolutely no warning at all, your lips were suddenly met with his. they were soft and confident, and his free hand held your face as you tried to process the new situation. you quickly melted into the kiss, letting him take control until he pulled away and smiled that sparkly smile you didn't hate as much as you tried to.

‘didn't see that one coming,’ you said breathily, brushing some loose hairs off of your face.

‘i knew you didn’t hate me.’

‘ever the arrogant twat.’

‘hey, does this mean you’ll stop kicking my chair in spanish?’

‘absolutely not. in fact, i think i’ll kick it harder.’

‘as long as you let me do that again.’

tags: @leossmoonn for inspiring me to start writing again, @account123445 & @lmaoidekanymore6 for asking me to post tristan fics! (couldn’t figure out how to make the tags work but if you read this, you know ✨)

[peeterparkr]

red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

-

next chapter

want to be tagged?(please say it's for red)

tag list and some friends: @noorrussell @nocturnalms @xxconfettiitsaparade @annathesillyfriend @butterflies-glitter @tomkindholland @the-salty-asian @words-to-accomplish-something @harryhollandsgirlfriend @bibliophilewednesday @tomhollandsbitch8 @boiolay @wizkiddx @spideyssunshine @parkertommy @erodasghosts @onewithnomightypowers @sunflowersandaydreams @tomshufflepuff @uglypastels @lilacsandwhiskey @badhollandfluff @saintlavrents @enilemes @white-wolf1940 @mannien @softholand @youcompletemesk @ughdangs@obiwanownsmyass @sleepingdancer @lonely-sag @n-pg-pw @readheadwriter @parkersroses @petesrparker

[julemmaes]

ahem... cassian taking nesta to that bookstore (fluff, don’t try making shit sad aight?)

Our First Non-Date

SURPRISE I GUESS!!

Nessian Archeron x Cassian

You can find the first part here.

A/N: this month has been really nice on me. I finally feel better, not crying every day for literally nothing and I wanna dedicate this to my fren Sim (@perseusannabeth) cause homegirl just finished the offcampus series and she's grieving. I know she is. So yep. Take some Nessian fluff

And Nina, I had to add some angsty parts, but they're not Irene Angst Level, okay?

Word count: 6,833

When Cassian had called her back the night after their outing with Amren and Varian, she'd stared at the phone for a full minute until it had stopped ringing and she could go back to reading the article on poisonous plants that Elain had sent her.

It hadn't even been five minutes before the words had been obscured from the call screen again and the name "Cassian Navarro" appeared.

When she had ignored the call for the second time as well, he had decided to change tactics.

Hi Nes, I was thinking about when you'd be free to go to the library. I need a couple of manuals because I'm building a little gazebo in Rhys and Feyre's garden and your sister is putting a lot of pressure on me, so I was wondering if you had the day off tomorrow.

Nesta was stunned at the amount of useless information he had given her, but managed to reply with a simple, Working tomorrow, day off on Wednesday. Sending you the address later.

She certainly hadn't anticipated how hard it would be to get up that day, her will to live must have been hiding somewhere under her bed and Nesta didn't know if it was directly related to their going out or just her stupid brain not being able to connect to real life.

The only other worst thing she'd been able to think of at that moment was having to explain to Cassian what was going on, so, pulled out of bed by the future embarrassment they'd feel in such a situation, she'd managed to dress, wash and style her hair so that she had a braid crowning her head.

She hadn't put too much effort into deciding what to wear, after all, it wasn't a date and Cassian had seen her many times before in far more outrageous and scruffy clothes than the comfortable black jeans and grey jumper she was wearing right now.

The silence had made her uncomfortable at first, only because Cassian seemed to be really stressed - about what, she certainly wouldn't ask - but after about ten minutes, he'd turned on the radio and popped a CD into the player and the melody of a Verve song had filled the cabin.

She'd started humming under her breath and he'd looked at her with a faint smile on his lips and his eyes sparkling. She hadn't mulled over that look too much, but she'd started eyeing him more closely and noticed the way he narrowed his eyes at every street sign and how he ran a hand over his face every time a strand of hair landed in front of his eyes.

When Cassian had to blow the hair out of his face for the millionth time, Nesta pulled a rubber band off her wrist and handed it to him abruptly.

Cassian looked surprised, but took it almost immediately, brushing her fingers. Nesta immediately withdrew her hand, feeling how warm and calloused his were.

"Thanks, my hair is killing me today," he finally spoke.

Nesta continued to look ahead, noticing that they were about to enter the highway. "Well, it wasn't very wise of you not to tie it up before you got in the car. I never drive with my hair down."

He nodded slowly, still with the band clutched between his fingers. And then, suddenly he let go of the steering wheel, "Hold that for me for a second." and Nesta's eyes went wide, launching herself at him to grab it and keep the car in their lane.

"Are you nuts?" she almost shrieked, keeping her gaze fixed on the road and feeling every nerve ending vibrate with anger.

"Relax." he said in a calm tone, shifting her hands and gently pushing her back into her seat one more time. "It wasn't even five seconds."

Nesta huffed out a laugh that lacked amusement, "You do something like that again without warning me first and I'm getting out of the car."

Cassian looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "A bit dramatic, but alright."

She sighed, shaking her head slightly and resting it on her hand propped against the window.

That awkward silence fell again and Nesta couldn't figure out what the problem was. She hadn't felt any kind of unease three days before, but after all, they'd been with friends and busy walking, not stuck in a car for two hours with no chance of walking away or splitting up.

And in that moment, the reality of their situation overwhelmed her.

She forced herself to steady her breathing, opening the window slightly so that more air could get in. She forced herself to think about all the things she would see today at the library and how beautiful and spectacular it had looked from mere pictures. She wasn't going to let her twisted mind stop her from having fun with someone who was desperately trying to be her friend.

She took a deep breath and a surprising calm enveloped her. She looked to her left to see if Cassian had noticed that temporal change in her behaviour, but it seemed to her that he was just as fidgety.

She was about to ask him if he was okay, because the knee that kept bouncing and the fingers opening and closing on the steering wheel were obvious nervous tics, when he did the eye thing again, this time leaning forward over the dashboard as well, and the sharp turn he took to the right caused her to shift in her seat so much that she bumped her shoulder against his.

Cassian grimaced, "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"What's wrong?" she asked, readjusting in her seat.

"Sorry?"

"What's the matter? With your eyes, I mean."

"Oh." he seemed surprised by the question, almost as if he hadn't realised she'd been observing him for the last twenty minutes. He cast her a curious glance immediately returning to the road. "I wear glasses when I drive, but I couldn't find them this morning and these contacts are the wrong shade and I can't see very well."

Nesta nodded thoughtfully, "Where do you normally keep them?"

"In the glove box. But I already checked," he replied, rolling his shoulders. Another nervous tic.

Nesta had to suppress a smile. There was no way he could be so worked up just because they were talking. She looked down at the phone in her hand to check the time, and a flash of light momentarily dazzled her. She blinked a couple of times and then scoffed, "Found them."

She reached a hand towards the hatch compartment and pulled out a pair of very plain black glasses, handing them to him. Cassian seemed to finally relax since she'd gotten into the car.

"Thank fuck." then he pulled into a lay-by and without turning off the car, slipped two fingers in his eye, removing one contact and then the other, leaving Nesta stunned. He put the glasses on his nose and flashed her a smile that went from ear to ear. And Nesta was stunned for other reasons.

She couldn't deny that Cassian was an attractive man. She wasn't stupid or blind, but the man next to her should have come with a warning sign or a bell.

Attention, hot stuff coming your way.

Nesta forgot the comment she had wanted to make about how antigenic and risky it had been to remove his contacts without first cleaning his hands and in such a dirty environment.

His hair tied back in a messy bun, with the hint of a beard he was letting grow, and now his glasses on, Cassian looked like a model on the cover of a newspaper about sexy carpenters. The short-sleeved black shirt he wore that pulled on his huge biceps every time he moved in the slightest was just one more point to add to the list of things that made him appealing.

"So," he began, getting back on the road, "what's your favourite colour?"

Nesta snorted, "Are you serious?"

Cassian seemed to blanch, "What?"

"Have you ever been out with a girl?" she asked him sarcastically, knowing full well what the answer would be.

He clenched his jaw so hard that a muscle popped out on his face, "Only on dates."

"And this isn't a date." pointed out Nesta, holding back a laugh at how tortured he sounded.

"It's not."

Nesta touched the tip of her nose, thoughtful, "Shouldn't this be easier for you then?"

Cassian released a breath through his nose, "I'm under a lot of pressure right now."

"Yeah?" she asked, looking away and smiling.

"Yeah, and stop looking like you're enjoying it." he retorted.

She feigned innocence, "Enjoying what?"

"My pain." he sheeted.

Nesta laughed, unable to contain herself any longer and when he glared at her, she covered her mouth with one hand, laughing harder. Only when he snapped his fingers against the steering wheel did she stop, laying a hand on his arm, just for a few seconds, "I'm so sorry." she wheezed, "I just don't understand. When you're hanging out with my sisters or Amren, or Mor, I don't know, you don't seem to be in this much discomfort."

Cassian sighed again and Nesta chuckled one last time, stopping when he smiled slightly. "I'm just trying not to make you uncomfortable. You accepted I take you on this non-date, and I'm doing my best not to flirt badly with you every chance I get." he confessed, nodding slowly, as if to convince himself that he was doing the right thing and not wasting their time.

Nesta was genuinely surprised at his answer and decided to offer him an olive branch.

"My favourite colour is blue."

"Nice." he smiled, showing a hint of a dimple, "Mine is red."

"It's too bright of a colour," she said lightheartedly.

Cassian chuckled, "I'm pretty sure it reflects my peppy personality."

Nesta nodded, "I read an article once about how a person's favourite colour says a lot about the person themselves," she said annoyed, "It sounded like one of those quizzes you find in gossip magazines, like it was written by a third grader. I hate those things, like horoscopes."

He grunted, "God, Mor's obsessed with horoscopes..."

The conversation continued without any more awkward silences for the remainder of the ride, and when Cassian turned onto a bumpy road, Nesta knew they were close. Of course, even if she hadn't looked at the directions from her house to the place, the myriad cars parked along the road would have been an indication.

They parked in the first vacant spot they could find and as soon as Nesta was out of the car, an icy gust of wind hit her face, making her shiver with cold. She looked over the bonnet at Cassian and found him staring at her with a half smile on his face. He'd left his glasses in the car and had let his hair down again, her hair band on his wrist, and he looked even prettier than before.

"Do you want my jacket?" he asked her, with a conflicted look on his face, as if he didn't want to. Nesta narrowed her brows and he hurried to add, "There's no hidden agenda to my offer, just a friend lending a jacket to another friend."

Nesta watched him for a moment, trying to really understand his intentions, but then remembered reading in one of the reviews that the library was heated inside and shook her head.

Cassian gave a small nod of assent and then pointed down the street, "Shall we?"

From where they had parked to the library it would have been about a ten minute walk and Nesta couldn't help but notice the way Cassian kept his distance between them as if he was afraid she would get scared and run away.

He was back to fidgeting nervously with his fingers and when he realised she was looking at him, he put them in his pockets, smiling tensely at her. He took a deep breath and then said, "So, what do you know about this library?"

Nesta looked ahead, hoping to catch a glimpse of the building, but the foliage of the trees was still too thick and they were still too far away for it to see anything. She brought her hands to her stomach, crossing her fingers, "I actually did a bit of research before I came. Did you know that the Peace Treaty between Prythian and Hybern of 1864 was signed here?" she asked in an excited voice.

Cassian smiled at her so naturally that she felt herself blush. He had an expression she couldn't decipher, but Nesta had never been good at cracking people in general, so she didn't venture to continue until he said, "Tell me more."

And Nesta launched into a detailed description of the events that had taken place inside the building, which only a hundred years before had become a bookstore. Only one wing of the building had been furnished in such a way as to become a real shop, the rest had been set up to be visited as a museum, one of the oldest libraries. She talked about the architecture and how it was obvious that the palace had been built long before it became an important meeting place for scholars and researchers.

"And in 1932 a fire destroyed the science wing, burning more than a hundred textbooks." Nesta sighed, thinking how devastating that loss had been. She lit up with happiness when she remembered what happened next. "But luckily, one of the most important literary clubs in the city got together and they managed to recover a small portion of the books. It took them years to rewrite every manual, but they got help from one of the local researchers, a certain Mr. Hawthorn, I can't remember the name or details of the research, only that he's mentioned often in the article I read."

When she paused to catch her breath, Nesta realised with immense horror what had just happened. Cassian had not spoken a word after asking her if she knew anything about the place and she had monopolised the conversation without even acknowledging him once. She felt herself flare up and knew in that moment that any hope they had of becoming real friends was gone.

Sometimes she would get lost in thought and ramble on about the things she was passionate about. Quite often people had stopped her, letting her know they weren't interested in the subject, but Cassian had never interrupted her and she was afraid to look at him, convinced she would only find boredom and disgust on his face.

That was why, when he spoke, she was struck dumb.

"I'm impressed." he breathed, chuckling immediately afterwards.

Nesta pushed herself to look at him and he stood admiring her with his mouth slightly open, as if he couldn't find the words. She felt her heart clench in her chest so tightly that she didn't know if she could survive the pain. Who knows how many times he'd tried to stop her and she'd gone on and on about windows and arches and treaties of peace.

But when she got a better look at him, stopping in front of him, Cassian looked... happy.

He let out a laugh, running a hand through his hair, and Nesta was distracted for a moment by the sway of his arms before she was brought violently back down to earth when he said, "You surprise me more and more every time, Nesta."

And the way he said her name - Ne-sta - made her toes curl.

"Why?" she managed to throw out in a weak voice.

Cassian laughed again, raising his eyebrows so high they ended under the hair on his forehead, locking his eyes to hers. "I have a degree in history and my final thesis happened to be on this very library." Nesta felt the ground open up beneath her feet and hoped it swallowed her alive. "I came out of university with top marks and various accolades for finishing my studies on time and you, dreadful creature that you are, have just taught me at least three new things about this place."

His gaze was so intense that Nesta had to lower her head to hide the satisfied and surprised smirk that popped up on her lips.

"You're amazing." huffed Cassian, "Perfect in every way."

She shrugged.

"Although," he clicked his tongue against his palate, "You made a mistake."

Nesta looked up at him, frowning, "Oh, yeah?"

Cassian nodded, smirking fiercely, "Why don't you turn around and admire the palace, and once we're inside, I'll explain what it is?"

She must have been so lost in her chatter that she hadn't noticed that they had arrived in the large entrance forecourt, because when she turned, her back to Cassian, the building stood among the forest trees, as imposing and splendid as ever. The photos had not done it justice in the slightest and Nesta was left speechless.

Living in a country with a history going back millennia, it wasn't hard to stumble upon historic streets with old buildings and monuments, but this was completely different.

She was still admiring the way the stone around the windows had been carved to look like trees trying to get into the building when she felt something settle on the small of her back. A hand.

Nesta stiffened slightly, before closing her eyes and relaxing.

Cassian must have noticed her discomfort because a moment later his hand was no longer touching her.

They entered the museum part of the building in silence and Nesta paid the entrance fees, reminding him of the tea he'd offered her last Sunday and Cassian hadn't been able to argue with that.

They had just passed the doors to the first room, the smallest in the entire palace, when he leaned towards her, to the point of touching her ear with his lips.

The fact that he was whispering as if they had been in a sacred place did things to her little icy heart, "Mr. Hawthorn was not a man."

Shocked by that information, Nesta's head snapped in his direction and she realised too late that she had miscalculated the space.

Her lips brushed against his cheek, the corner of his lips, before Cassian reacted so quickly he startled her, but avoiding them both an involuntary first kiss. His sudden movement caused him to lose his balance and he reached out his hands towards her, straightening as he held on to her shoulders.

Both of them were holding their breath.

Cassian cleared his throat, shifting his gaze to the wall of books, but returning to look at her soon after, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, you just surprised me," she said when she had recovered. "I must have read the article wrong."

He was still watching her and shook his head, "Oh no, I don't think it's that. They only found out a few months ago that it was Georgina and not George Hawthorn. They found letters in the house of what was thought to be Hawthorn's wife. Some people think they were just friends, but anyone who has read the letters they exchanged knows full well that they were lovers. Anyone who says otherwise is either homophobic or stupid."

Nesta realised that she could have listened to this for hours on end. And so it was.

The visit continued relatively quietly, Cassian explaining every detail to her, expanding on things she already knew and when he forgot something, she would step in and have her say, commenting on every little aspect.

She'd noticed how Cassian hadn't tried to touch her anymore and how whenever someone was about to bump into her, he'd vocally warn her instead of wrapping an arm around her shoulders to move her out of their way like he had on Sunday.

The visit to the museum lasted less than expected unfortunately, because Nesta hadn't had this much fun in too long. It was becoming easier to smile at him or tease him when he said dumb things and even he seemed to finally be more at ease when he had to make jokes that smacked of him.

When they finally got to the shop, Nesta couldn't stand on her feet anymore, she just wanted to buy all the books she saw and go home and arrange them on her shelves.

"Which section do you want to see first?" she asked him, even though she had started hopping impatiently about the place.

Cassian gave her a smug look, "Why don't you go wherever you want and I'll look for the manuals for the gazebo in the meantime? That way you don't waste time keeping up with me. I'll be right there."

Nesta let out an excited squeal and ran off, hearing only the echo of laughter that shook Cassian from head to toe.

***

As Cassian flipped through the various books to find a picture of a gazebo that looked similar to the one Feyre had requested, he kept casting glances at Nesta.

Her eyes sparkled as she grabbed book after book without even reading the synopses. She was in the romance novels section, from what he could see from where he stood, but soon ended up in the classics, where she grabbed just as many books. She moved to the mystery books section, this time stopping to read the plots and putting most of them back on the shelves.

Then, surprising Cassian, she walked over to where the historical novels were and turned to face him. He bent his head to the side, raising an eyebrow to ask her what she was doing there. Nesta seemed at a loss, trying to move all the books from one arm to the other to point him to join her, but Cassian was already halfway there and when she looked back up at him and found him standing in front of her, she gave him a bright smile.

"Hello." she exclaimed.

Cassian's breath caught for a second before he too sighed a greeting.

"I was thinking," Nesta began, running her eyes over the titles in front of them, "that you could recommend something about..." she wiggled her fingers as much as she could, trying to point to the shelf, and Cassian leaned forward, cursing himself for not thinking of it sooner.

"Here," he removed the first stack of books from her arms and she sagged a little, giving him a thankful look. "I can go get a bag so you can put them all in there and you don't have to carry them like this," he said taking all the books and having her help him arrange them so they wouldn't fall out.

He smiled at her over all the books, looking down at her and she smiled back just as happily.

Hell, if she looked at him like that every time he took her to a bookstore he should do it more often.

He had just turned to go towards the entrance, where he had seen special bags for carrying books, but Nesta stopped him by putting a hand on his arm.

"Wait!" she exclaimed almost impishly.

Cassian turned his head, genuinely worried that something had happened to her in the mere seconds he had been shot. He must have moved too fast, because one of the smaller classics flew off the top of the stack and landed right in her face.

Nesta groaned at the impact and brought her hands to her face, rubbing her forehead where it hurt.

"Oh my God, are you okay?!" he asked with wide eyes. And then Nesta laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she stared at him and he visibly relaxed. "Christ, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to throw a book at you."

She waved a hand in mid-air, to let him know it was nothing, and bent down to pick up what he realised was A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. Of course Nesta was reading feminist classics.

She turned back to the books as if nothing had happened and Cassian had the urge to look for a list of all the bookstores in the world to take her to if it meant having her in such a good mood by his side, it didn't matter if she would never agree to go on a real date with him, he realised. As long as he could see her smile like that, he didn't need anything else.

"So, I was saying, before you battered me with a book-" she cast an amused glance over one shoulder at him.

He frowned, muttering, "I said sorry."

Nesta ignored him, "What do you recommend?"

Cassian blinked.

"You said you read historical novels right?" she asked, looking for confirmation, "You could recommend your favourites. But not the English or Russian classics. Or French ones. Chances are I've already read those."

Cassian was stunned. Nesta wanted advice on books. From him.

They were silent for too long as she turned around impatiently, "You lied?"

He looked surprised, "When?"

"When you said you were reading. Were you just doing it to impress me or were you serious?" she asked and maybe Cassian imagined it, but she looked disappointed.

He was quick to reply, "The Black Coat, by Neamat Imam. It's pretty recent, but set in the 1970s in Bangladesh. It's about a man who needs help and seeks it from a journalist he asks for work and one of the main themes is the famine that hit the country after it became independent. It's not my absolute favourite, but it certainly gives you something to think about."

Nesta nodded, searching through the titles and finding it almost immediately, "Anything else?"

Cassian felt his neck heat up and coughed a little before resuming speaking. "The Long Ships by Frans G. Bengtsson. Set in the tenth century, it's about a Viking who is called Red because of his hair and focuses on the European political outlook in the late Viking Age. Again, it's not as good as the historical classics, but it's nice and shows a way of life that we're definitely not used to. It's different."

After looking for a few minutes, Nesta gave up reading and turned to him, crossing her arms. She tilted her head to the side, watching him closely, "What's your favourite book?"

Cassian shrugged, settling the books against his chest, "I think at the moment it's The King Must Die by Mary Renault. But I change my mind every month when I find something more interesting or captivating."

She nodded thoughtfully, "I'll take that one then."

And Cassian wished he could change the title immediately because... what if she didn't like it? Or if she thought it was a stupid book? What would she think of him then?

But Nesta had already found a copy a few shelves down and there was no turning back.

He could counterattack, though, "What about yours? You're not going to give me any advice on feminist classics or blatantly trashy romance novels?"

Nesta opened her mouth wide, looking outraged as she placed the latest addition on the pile, settling the book under her chin, "How can you say they're trashy if you don't even know what they're about?"

Cassian chuckled, "On the cover of You Came," he said as he gave her a sly look, "there's something called a 'spicymeter'. How am I supposed to take you seriously?"

Nesta blushed, "I read erotic novels, so what? I have to keep myself busy in my spare time somehow."

And then he challenged her, "Get me the hottest book you've ever read," he said in a joking tone, "I'll go get the bag in the meantime."

She had already left for the section when he had an idea that would surely doom him depending on how Nesta would react.

He walked up to the cashier's desk, making sure she didn't notice, and begging the clerk behind the counter to be quick, paid for all her books, gently placing them back in the bags.

When he reached her again, she seemed not to have noticed anything.

"'So, what did you get me? Ride Me? Fucked You Good? Last Night I Gave You A Thousand Orgasms?" he teased her with an annoyed grin on his lips.

Nesta gave him a fiery glance before noticing the bags, quite different from those you put the things you wanna buy in, and closed her mouth tightly. She frowned and looked at them for so long before speaking that Cassian began to feel self-conscious.

"You paid for my books?" she whispered, looking at him.

He nodded.

"It's not a date, Cassian," she reminded him for the umpteenth time.

"I know, but-"

"So why would you pay for things that are mine?"

He couldn't read her. She wasn't hinting at anything.

She didn't look angry but she didn't look impressed or grateful either.

Cassian placed the bags on the ground between them and Nesta followed his every movement with her eyes.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing, "My adoptive family is filthy rich. I have a trust fund that I never get to spend on things I really want to do, the only way I get to use it is by giving gifts to my friends, so just accept these as my first gift - friend to friend - and call it a day."

Nesta continued to be impassive as she kept her eyes fixed on the books.

Perhaps he had gone too far. After all, she had taken more than a hundred and fifty euros worth of stuff, but he really didn't mind.

He was about to apologise, tell her she could give the money back if it made her feel better. Cassian would find a way to spend it back on her at other times anyway.

Then she raised her head, handing him two books with hilarious covers to say the least, "These two have storylines full of plot twists. You won't be able to put them down, but don't expect big epic battles or Viking warriors. It's just two college kids trying to survive in the modern world while finding solace in each other."

He didn't even have time to thank her that she was already across the room and waiting in line so she could pay them.

He scoffed, shaking his head.

"I guess you'll be paying for these two," he said as he caught up with her.

Nesta didn't even look at him, pulling out her wallet, "A gift from a friend to a friend."

As they walked back to the car, Cassian offered to carry the bags, but she didn't want to hear one more word so they had managed to compromise and had split the load equally.

They'd been on the road for about thirty minutes now and Nesta had gone through every book he'd bought her, talking about all the previous works by the authors she was holding in her hand at the moment.

Cassian could have died like that. Happy, relaxed, listening to the plots of those dirty books with no moral lessons to teach the reader, just pure entertainment.

He wondered at that moment if he would make it through the first few chapters of the books she had offered him and let out a heavy breath through his nose as he turned right towards the coast.

Nesta looked at him wide-eyed, stopping her rant about the headmaster's son getting the occasional model student to fall in love with him. She brought a hand to her mouth, "Oh dear, sorry, I'm boring you. I'm sorry."

He gave her a confused look ready to tell her she didn't have to apologise, but she continued.

"Sometimes I do and I don't even realize it. And I realize they're not challenging plots where you have to apply some hidden lobe of the brain to understand them, but they distract me from everyday problems, you know? It's fun to be able to unplug a few hours after I get home from work and-"

"Jesus, Nesta, stop!" he laughed, placing a hand on her thigh. She sighed. "You don't have to apologise. Not when you're so excited about something." he looked at her slyly, offering her a reassuring smile, "In fact, I'm glad you're talking so much today. Normally I have to pull the words out of your mouth."

She blushed slightly and then grew sullen soon after, sitting up straighter, "This isn't the way to Velaris, where are we going?"

Cassian didn't answer.

"You're taking me into the woods aren't you?"

"We literally just came out of a forest."

She ignored him.

"I knew it. You're a serial killer."

"Nes-"

"You're a little dense though. Why would you spend so much on someone if you're going to murder them?"

He decided to ignore her, chuckling, "I'm taking you to the beach."

"Why?" she asked, somewhat unconvinced.

Cassian shrugged, "I wanted to see the sunset."

"You didn't ask."

He sighed, gripping the steering wheel, "Okay," he whispered, then louder, "You want to go to the beach and watch the sunset?"

She nodded in assent and then continued to read the plots aloud.

And Cassian could have sworn he was in heaven.

***

Nesta gathered more sand, making a small ball out of it and placing it on the top of one of the towers she had made so far.

"Where did you learn to make such good sandcastles?" asked Cassian suddenly from behind her, startling her.

She jumped in the air, turning to face him and noticing the satisfied smile on his face for having taken her by surprise.

Nesta didn't answer him immediately, but allowed herself to admire him a bit.

Since they had arrived at the beach, they had taken off their shoes and were now both barefoot and then Cassian had bent down and started to roll his trousers around his ankles, offering to do it to her jeans as well, but Nesta had refused. She had sat down, looking at the sea for a while, while he walked along the shore and collected stones and shells.

When he had come back to her and shown them to her, asking her to make a sandcastle, she had laughed at first, but faced with his serious expression, she had been unable to do anything but get up and roll up her sleeves, moving to where the sand was a little more workable.

She looked away from that heavenly vision and made another ball, placing it next to the one she had just made. "When I was little my mum never let me do these, she said I'd get too much sun and forced me and Elain to stay under the umbrella all day," she replied truthfully, remembering the cruel bite of jealousy watching the children on the shore.

"And Feyre?"

Cassian had joined her, kneeling beside her and had begun to place the shells so that they served as windows to the towers.

Nesta sighed, "Feyre was still too little when Mini Me wanted to build sandcastles, but as soon as I became 'too old to play like a kid'," she gave him a knowing look, mimicking her mother's voice, "and Feyre started to figure out she was an actual being, Mama let her do whatever she wanted. Even stand in the sun for hours on end." she shrugged. "Whether it was out of indifference or love, I never understood."

Cassian had been silent the whole time and now he watched her, hands on his thighs as he waited for her to give him more. For her to tell him another little piece of her soul.

So she offered him a forced smile, "So to answer your question, it's all pent-up creativity."

"Well, you're very good at it," he granted her. "I can imagine what you could have done if your mother hadn't been so strict."

Well, yeah.

"What about you?" she asked him.

"What about me?"

"Did you go to the beach a lot?"

Cassian smiled weakly, getting up and heading towards the water to collect more shells. He nodded a couple of times and then said, "My mum and I loved coming to the beach and she loved making castles. And she always put so many 'windows' on the towers-"

Nesta turned to look at their work, realising how many shells he had placed on the piles of sand. She smiled softly, covering her eyes from the sun and watching him walk towards her.

"We always came when she was free from work."

A charged silence settled between them until Cassian chuckled, drawing her attention, "What?"

"You said this wasn't a date. And that we're just friends. Right?"

Shifting her gaze to him, she noticed how he kept his hands hidden behind his back and the mischievous glint in his eyes didn't reassure her at all. Slowly she stood up, nodding.

"So, I must treat you as I would treat my friends. Correct?"

"Cassian, I swear to god that-"

She didn't have time to finish her sentence that something wet and sticky landed in her face with a resounding splash, making her jump back.

She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it when a strong smell of stale water and seaweed flooded her nostrils.

When she opened her eyes again, wiping the seaweed from her face, Cassian was doubled over in laughter.

She didn't even give him time to get up when she started to run towards him - to do what, she had no idea - but he started to run away too and soon they were chasing each other all around the beach, not noticing the sweet looks they were getting from the people around them.

At that moment, Nesta was running so fast that she could feel the wind in her hair and the smell and sound of the sea, together with the laughter of the man who was chasing her, mixed with her own and the continuous tapping of her feet on the sand, made her feel alive.

She felt Cassian come closer every few metres until two strong arms wrapped around her waist and she was pulled up and spun around in the air.

A surprised yelp escaped her as Cassian laughed in her ear, "Gotcha!"

It wasn't until he stopped spinning with her in his arms that they realised the position they were in and immediately broke away, laughing embarrassed.

Nesta turned to face him, her face red from running and her breathing laboured. He was in no better condition. His hair was pointing in all directions and his sculpted chest was rising and falling with haste under the black fabric of his shirt.

He looked away first, scratching the back of his neck and fixing his eyes on the sunset, and offered her his arm as they returned to where they had left theirs things unattended.

Nesta shook her head, laughing one last time and started to run, " Last to reach the castle is stupid!"

Cassian burst out laughing, but he caught up to her in the blink of an eye and they both knew that she had doomed herself to lose. That's why, when he fell tripping over his feet, Nesta knew he had done it on purpose.

She helped him up and they sat back as in silence they watched the sun go down, disappearing past the horizon and the blending lights of the sky created a breathtaking spectacle.

Nesta couldn't have noticed, too busy admiring the clouds, but Cassian had been watching her the whole time, trying to understand how something as sombre and secretive as her could look so bright just by being.

The journey back was silent, but this time the silence was not awkward. They both welcomed it with open arms, a new awareness that there was no need for it to be filled with chatter and that gave Nesta the opportunity to close her eyes for a moment and doze off.

When the car stopped outside her flat, Nesta was surprised to find that she didn't want to get out.

She turned to Cassian after she had gathered her things and nodded, "I had fun today."

He gave her a genuine smile, looking surprised, "Me too."

And then she permanently shocked him, adding, "I'm not working on Saturday, we could do it again. Changing location."

He blinked once. Twice. Then he nodded, "Sure."

He didn't seem to want to say anything more, so Nesta waved goodbye to him and then got out, not waiting for an answer from him.

Cassian stood motionless in the car park of her flat for another half hour, trying to figure out what had just happened, and when the reality of things finally dawned on him, he smiled, "Fuck yeah."

acotar tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

@sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien-of-nargothrond @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @hellasblessed @nahthanks @archeron-queens-blog @sleeping-and-books @bri-loves-sunflowers @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @queenestarcheron @oop-theregoesgravity @firebirdofscythia @anne-reads @fantastypenguins @laylaameer01 @thalia-2-rose @darkshadowqueensrule @bookstantrash @lanyjoy-13 @the-regal-warrior @lordof-bloodshed @dealingdifferentdevils @swankii-art-teacher @rowaelinismyotp

[edie-baby]

to have and to hold | juri vips

summary: Juri Vips was a bastard of a teammate. Mostly just because you were insanely in love with him and his flirtatious ways. Juri senses a change in your behaviour and when things begin going back to normal, Juri just fucks it up again. (Similar premise to the Mr & Mrs imagine with Liam, but different[?])

word count: 2894

warnings: swearing, still. i don't think i should have to put warnings about swearing anymore, it's basically a given.

Working with Juri Vips was a fucking trainwreck. There was no light way to put it, it was messy, it was painful, and yet you could never stop fucking staring at him. Being his teammate in F2 for the past year and a half, the two of you had gotten quite close, to the point where his family invited you on vacation with them when they were going, and you had joined them once, but realised about two hours in, that it was a thinly veiled attempt from literally his entire family to get the two of you together.

And while you were all for it, being forced to spend so much time with Juri, while he was shirtless nonetheless, was a literal dream come true, it was also incredibly painful for you to stop from pouncing on him at any given moment. Because as much as his family thought there was something between you, it was purely Juri’s charisma and character to be almost constantly flirting with you.

You remember the first time the two of you, a few other F2 drivers had come along as well, had gone to the beach and he had seen you bust out the bikini you knew made you look like a hot piece, he hadn’t shut up about it, or you, for weeks afterwards.

“Well look at you, little miss supermodel. I would have thought you’d be walking catwalks with legs like that, not pushing pedals like the rest of us. God, you look like you just stepped out of my dreams and onto this beach. If you keep looking like that, I think I might have a problem to deal with later in the shower.” He had hollered, and many of the guys around you either joined in or had nothing to say but gawk. Juri’s comments had cemented themselves in your brain however, calling back upon them whenever you felt less than top dollar, which you had to admit was becoming more often in recent months.

Juri had noticed your slowly waning confidence, of course he had. His gorgeous view of you in crop tops, little skirts, and tight shorts had turned into oversized shorts, hoodies, and ill-fitting jeans. All of which still made you the most beautiful girl in the world, but there was something missing from your aura, a general happiness that had been lacking since the new season started a few months ago. In the entire time Juri had known you, you were never one to listen to other’s opinions of you, whether they be good or bad, the only people you had ever listened to and taken words to heart from were himself, your parents, and your boyfriend.

Somehow in the span of about three minutes, Juri had tracked the four most likely culprits of your diminished ego. He knew he hadn’t said anything harmful or damaging to you since the season began, as many of your conversations had revolved around racing, other drivers in the paddock, or your family. Your parents, he was confident in, he had met them many times before, and they were always genuinely warm and welcoming, he supposed there might have been another side to them, though he believed he would have picked up on it by now. Which leaves only your boyfriend, whom Juri had zero confidence in.

Tye was nice, almost disgustingly so, but he was also much too proud of being nice for it to be genuine. He would open car doors for you, give you flowers every few months, and once bought you a necklace with a pendant of his name. But you would never forget that he did those things for you, because as soon as you would mention something relatively negative, those few acts of kindness were shoved down your throat.

Juri, of course, was not privy to that information. All he knew was that Tye’s possessive behaviour and complete lack of care for your wishes meant that there was something beneath the surface Juri was sure was the reason for your confidence, or lack thereof.

So when you came into work one day, to continue shooting some videos for the YouTube channel, wearing a gorgeously fitted pair of jeans, and a halter-neck singlet, Juri knew something was afoot. Also notable was your lack of gold necklace and your beaming smile toward the Estonian.

“You gonna keep staring like that, or do you want to take a photo?” You asked, your voice holding the teasing lilt Juri had missed in the past weeks. Without breaking his gaze from your body, Juri reached into the pocket of his shorts, his hand retrieving his phone and taking a photo of you standing there, tight clothes and bright smile in all its glory. He smirked when he saw your barely concealed smile.

“You’re in a much better mood than usual. What happened?” Juri couldn’t help but ask, the drastic shift in your mood was more than intriguing to him. Your smile widened, taking the last few steps toward his position in a chair behind the large conference table.

“I lost 80 kilos last night.” You whispered, leaning in closer to Juri, the glint in your eyes, the proximity and the tone were all so familiar to him that he couldn’t help but meet you halfway, barely three inches between your faces as the words processed in his mind.

Juri glanced down at your body confusedly, trying to figure out where exactly the 80kg had disappeared from. Then, the pieces began clicking into place. The lack of gold necklace, the tighter clothes, the glowing smile, none of which would have been staring Juri in the face if Tye had a say.

“You dumped Tye?” Juri questioned, his eyes lighting up, his raise in volume betraying just how excited he was for you, and himself. You nodded, eyes softening as you watched the pure joy cross Juri’s face. Him being happy was something that always warmed your heart, but Juri being happy about you finally being happy? You were sure your knees were about to buckle.

“I’m glad. I can have you all to myself now.” Juri grumbled, reaching for your hands that were braced against the arms of his chair. With a sharp tug, your balance was offset, and your body was tumbling toward Juri’s. You landed with a giggle in Juri’s lap, his own laughter joining yours and the two of you simply enjoyed each other’s presence after having an intangible wall built between you during your relationship with Tye.

Juri couldn’t hold a taken woman like he loved her, not when that taken woman wasn’t his to hold. And you, how could you revel in the feel of man’s touch that was anyone’s but the man you supposedly loved. You couldn’t break out in goosebumps, or have a shiver roll down your spine when you felt the familiar pressure of his calloused fingertips pressing into the skin of your back, desperate to keep you close. You weren’t allowed to sigh in content when you felt the warmth of his body seep into your skin, or whimper when his hot breath rolled over the skin of your neck.

But now you could. Now, without the moral implications of enjoying another man, you could sink into this all-consuming feeling you have when Juri is near.

“Morning you two. We’ve got a video to film in the garage if you want to follow me?” The social media manager, Georgina,  a lovely woman in her 40s whom you always went to for advice and style tips, poked her head into the room you and Juri were tangled in, a cheeky smile on her face when she spotted the somewhat compromising position. A blush fell heavy on your cheeks, and you were quick to try and scramble away from Juri.

He had other ideas though. When Juri began moving, you clutched onto him for dear life, terrified of falling to the ground even though it was only about two feet. Your arms circled around his neck, your legs fully wrapping around his hips from where you were straddling him on the chair. His large hands came to rest on the underside of your thighs, hoisting you up higher on his body. Your legs clenched around his middle, the feel of his fingers pushing into the soft skin of your legs was electrifying, and you were sure if you didn’t have a video to film, you would have been telling the Estonian to find an unoccupied office to take what he needed from you.

But alas, you had a job to do. So, still wrapped around Juri like a vice, he carried you through the Hitech office, nodding to other staff you passed, and occasionally nuzzling his nose into your neck to get a good whiff of your perfume. Juri had said multiple times the scent was intoxicating and could bring any man to his knees. You may have gone out and bought an extra bottle to ensure you never ran out after that.

After a few minutes, you stepped into the garage with Juri, well, he stepped in you just kind of floated in. The scent of grease, rubber and a slight hint of fuel invaded your nostrils, and you sighed in content. Juri chuckled at your actions, he always loved watching you step into a garage, or out onto the pit lane to take in the smells of burnt rubber. You told him every time he laughed at you that it evoked a calm feeling within you, it was nostalgic, filled with happy memories from your childhood and the memories of races you shared with Juri on track.

“Alright lovebirds, can we get you in these chairs and we’ll start explaining while we finish getting set up.” Georgina stated, smiling fondly at the love between her two youngsters. Juri sat you down in one of the chairs sitting before the cameras, not leaving your side for long as he planted himself in his own chair and dragged you as close as possible.

Georgina explained the rules of the game, and the way you would be playing it, choosing you to sit in the background listening to music whilst Juri answered questions about you. First, they gave you a list of questions about yourself, asking to circle the correct answers and they would be compared to Juri’s during the game.

“Ok Juri, the first question. How old was Y/N when she started karting?” Georgina questioned. She watched you in the background closely to ensure you couldn’t hear anything, but you were blissfully unaware of everything around you, headphones in your ears, legs tucked up on the chair, scrolling through your phone with the occasional giggle escaping your lips. Each time Juri heard the angelic sound, he would turn to look at you with a look so soft it made the entire team’s heart swell.

“Uh, I think she was 10, I know she started late because she had to argue with her parents to let her do it with her brothers, and I think 10 is about the right age.” Juri answered, looking as though he was thinking quite hard about it. It had been a long time since the two of you discussed your start in karting, it was one of the first conversations you had together, and since then you hadn’t had to talk about generic teammate topics. Juri was proud that he remembered something seemingly insignificant from a year and a half ago, but supposed when it came to you he could never forget a thing.

“Alright, next question. What is Y/N’s biggest fear? Is it A, the ocean, B, goblins, or C, heights?” Juri’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he heard the second answer, trying to figure out why it was even an option in the first place. His eyes focused on one spot on the floor, his brain moving a mile a minute to analyse conversations he had with you.

“Well, we’ve been to the beach together a few times, and thinking back I don’t think she’s ever gotten into the water. So maybe the ocean, but she also said once when we were looking at a castle that she doesn’t like gargoyles, so goblins could be a thing. But she’s definitely not scared of heights. She’s gone skydiving, bungee jumping and climbed bridges and things like that. So I’m going to say the ocean. I feel like I would definitely know if she was scared of something like goblins.” Juri laughed, his eyes still glued to the spot on the floor, his thoughts flowing through his mouth with little consideration of how they could be interpreted.

“What is something Y/N never leaves the house with?” Georgina was hopeful for this question, she was sure it could be the catalyst for the two drivers to finally own up to their feelings after reading your answer. Juri listened to the multiple choice answers, but none of them sounded just right.

“So, the rings sound the closest, but sometimes she will wear lots, and other times only a few, and when she can’t wear them on her hands, she’ll thread it onto a necklace to wear under her race suit, or something so yeah, I’d say the rings.” Juri answered, turning to look at you behind him, wearing the exact ring he was talking about on the ring finger of your right hand.

“And what ring is the one she wears on her necklace?” Georgina probed, knowing the answer and just wanting to see the way Juri heated up when he talked about it.

“Uh, it’s a diamond ring that has a J engraved on the inside.” Juri answered, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. A smile broke out on your face as you watched Juri, his flustered state always made you giggle as he was such a confident and put-together person usually. As a habit, you began spinning the ring on your right hand around, feeling the shape of the diamonds and knowing the initial carved into the inside was a claim over you.

“Do you know where she got it?” Georgina asked. She was getting frustrated, Juri was much more calm about revealing the intimacy of the ring than she had hoped.

“I gave it to her. About a year ago, and then she gave me a necklace with an (your initial) on it. I wear it every day, and it’s the only piece of jewellery I wear while I drive.” Juri answered, his fingers reaching up to toy with the thin gold chain hidden beneath his shirt. He looked over his shoulder at you, spotting the spinning ring immediately and smiling at you.

You looked up at him, a dazed look as you stared at the gorgeous man in front of you. He could see the stars in your eyes, staring at him as though he hung the moon, and if he was honest with himself, if you asked, he would. There was nothing you could ask of him that would be too much, even if you didn’t ask, he would do everything for you. No one had ever held this power over him, he wasn’t even sure it would feel this good if it were anyone else, but you just did something to him. You unlocked a part of him he didn’t know existed.

You were just, everything. To him. You were everything he ever wanted, ever needed, even everything he didn’t know he needed. You opened him up, poured sunshine into his life in the form of your smile, happiness penetrated his bones because of your laugh. He didn’t want to lose that again, didn’t want to lose you to another man. He needed you, and he needed you now.

It was like slow motion, the way Juri surged out of his chair toward you, his hands cupping your jaw roughly as he guided you to your feet. The laptop on the ground pulled the earphones from your ears, your phone clattering to the floor in your surprise. Your hands reached up to fist in his shirts, not wanting to lose this proximity. You had him in your grasp and you’d be damned if you ever let him go again.

Juri pressed his lips to yours, as soft and warm as you’d imagined them so many times before. You kissed him back with ferocity, the eighteen months worth of emotion poured into a kiss to communicate your feelings in a way that didn’t need words. He kissed back just as fiercely, his hands holding your face still to allow him to do exactly what he needed. You were pliable to his every demand, putty in his hands. Juri had always had this effect on you, every fleeting touch or brush of a hand on your waist made your knees weak and your stomach flutter with the force of a thousand butterflies.

Juri pulled away, barely a breath between your lips as he panted slightly. Your eyes were trained on his lips, the fullness of his bottom lip, the redness from your assault on them making them look all the more kissable.

“So, how about we switch that ring to the other hand and really make this a Mr & Mrs video?”