#and I’m a shitty golfer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bleakviolet · 1 year ago

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dormitory imp (version 1)

Author's note: I wrote this one shortly after turning 21, and at the time, I was lonely, dangerously malnourished, and experiencing severe symptoms of what I presume might be classified as "mania". My writing here is clunky and unnatural; I'm well aware. For the sake of preservation, I don't have plans to revise it.

Context: I’m twenty. I’m a student. I bus tables for my campus cafeteria.

I pace the cafeteria with my head drooped as I scrub tables and fill napkin containers and restock silverware and trash empty salt and pepper shakers to make space for fresh ones and promptly forget that I accomplish any of the former tasks, and while shuffling between booths with my drippy towel in hand, I look up and find that an unkempt and vacant booth in need of cleaning is not, in fact, vacant, and that there is somebody still there, whose eyes meet mine only momentarily, just long enough that I catch their pupils contract before averting at the same time as the person exhales a short and embarrassed breath of relief—not so much, I suppose, the sort of breath one expels upon feeling relief but the sort of breath one expels in order to feel relief, though the exact qualities of sound and expression which contribute to one impression over the other I cannot place. An instinct, I suppose. In frank terms, I am unfocused, and I know I am unfocused because I assure myself of such; I warn me that I need to be careful of my physical surroundings to avoid startling another person while my boss or a coworker or someone willing to report me to either happens to be in the room and can get me fired, and I remind me of the reason for my being distracted in the first place, which is that I hate my name. And thinking about my name, or—as I learn in the next brief period of awareness due after several more fleeting chores elapse—thinking about how I need to stop thinking about my name, gets me thinking about how my roommate pronounces it (the correct way, albeit, but except for him saying it, it is easy to forget):

“keR-”: There is no letter in the English alphabet more masculine than the R. Robert. Roger. Red. GolfeR. CigaRette. EntRepReneuR. And there is no sound more masculine than keR. The first step to uttering my name is to spread the lips vertically, just as if to enunciate that R sound, only wider and while maintaining nearly clenched teeth. To pronounce a ‘keR’, one must bare their teeth like a snarling dog or a soldier slamming the side of his right hand against his forehead and barking “SiR, yes, siR”.

“-iSs-”: Next, the lower lip has to descend a little further, to make room for an I, and hold position—slimy yellow teeth still exposed—while the tongue pulls backward and a hiss blows over it, flinging all the mouth’s saliva behind the upper incisors.

“-chin”: Finally, the whole motion repeats, this time faster, but upon completion, the tongue slaps into the pool of spit gathered in speaking the prior syllable.

Gwen, Emily, Kyle, Tom, Kobe—I speak names silently to the floor. I conclude as I march around the cafeteria that mine is not only subjectively shitty, but objectively, demonstrably so. I try perhaps two dozen names—all the ones that come to mind over the course of however many minutes are in one circuit of the room—and not one of them precludes me from kind-of smiling except my own. KeRiSschin. A name that can never be spoken sweetly, a purely professional name. KeRiSchin. I envision my roommate’s fat pink lips undulating before his corn-tinted teeth, two pulses in every utterance. KeRiSchin. It’s disgusting, try it. Disgusting and—I decide as I pace the cafeteria with my head drooped etc.—degrading; seeing and listening to this guy addressing me over and over and degrading the both of us: he, who snarls and laps up his mouth’s saliva to converse with me, and I, whom he can freely beckon to watch him do it. “Hi, keRiSchin!” “How’s your day going, keRiSchin?” “Are you doing alright, keRiSchin?” He speaks my name with the casual frequency afforded to a pronoun, like it belongs not particularly to me, nor to anyone, like the password to my attention is public property. Him and I have not even been acquainted; I had first arrived in the room I would be staying in for nine months when here had been this man, already situated, greeting me and my parents and talking about his degree and—by the time the room had vacated to just the two of us—continuing to ask vapid questions to which I would barely respond: just “fine”s and “sure”s and the kinds of nasal exhalations that emulated what it would be like to chuckle without opening my mouth. The impression I had tried to give was that I wanted never to see him nor to hear his voice, that I wanted to pretend to live alone, and, in return, I would keep my side of the room and the bathroom and the appliances tidy, just as if it were my sole responsibility to do so, on account of the fact that nobody else resided in my space. Of course, I had never voiced my wishes. I had needed him to understand without being told. We had been nowhere near to acquainted enough that he should have been allowed to know so much about me, and I had had no desire to shorten that distance between us, because here had been a man—tall, modestly overweight, and ginger-bearded, wearing plaid button-ups and blue jeans and whose only interests had seemed to be his very blonde, very traditionally pretty girlfriend and the Avengers movies—who had regarded me with the sort of faux-enthusiasm that meant ‘this is awkward; we have nothing in common, but I don’t know what I’ll do if there is even one person on this planet with whom I can’t be friends’. He is valueless to me, and because he is free to call me by my name whenever he wants without feeling guilt, without even knowing what he should be guilty for, I can be no more than his equal-in-standing. I.e.: because this person I do not respect acknowledges no amount of the disrespect he repeatedly commits in calling me by name, I too am valueless, delimited by he.

At five until 1:00, I return my rag to a bucket of grimy soap and leave the cafeteria. I show up five-to-seven minutes late to my last class of the day, as per usual, but due to my good standing with the instructor and a prior email pleading with him that because my shift officially ends at the very minute his class is to begin on its biweekly basis, could he please excuse my tardiness and leave the door to his classroom open until my arrival, to which he obliged, and so anyway nothing comes of my being late, and at 2:45 or thereabouts, class ends without trouble, and shortly thereafter, I arrive at the door to my dorm room. Rooting myself adjacent to the door’s hinged side, I hunch over and plant my ear against the wood. Nothing. In most cases, it is impossible to hear my roommate, but if he happens to be in the midst of a call with his girlfriend, listening to his Calming Scandanavian Music Mix, flushing the toilet, microwaving lunch, sleeping, or exercising, I can flee preemptively and spare myself from having to return a greeting. I straighten, then turn the door handle; but for what will likely be a barely perceptible moment for anyone potentially watching, yet which is, nonetheless, a deliberate pause, I do not enter. Hearing still nothing, I then press the door open perhaps twenty or thirty degrees without moving my feet, maintaining full cover from the pair of eyes I suppose linger above the desk chair beside the opposite wall from the entryway. Nothing. I stride into the room and lock the door.

First thing: I walk through my half of the room into his, passing between his one-by-four-by-one (measured in cubic slots, each of which is probably two feet to a side) modular plastic shelf standing against the right-side wall on the room’s median, whose (the shelf’s) every space is occupied by dozens of packaged foodstuffs semi-neatly arranged, and our two wardrobes align like a barricade parallel to each of our beds and perpendicular to the left-side wall, one wardrobe facing each of the room’s halves. On either side of the shelf are our desks, his far from the door and right of the window and mine nearer the entrance so that every time he enters or exits, I will have to sit up straight and wheel my little maroon swivel chair forward to provide him ample space to maneuver between me and the corner of my bed. His side of the room—contrary to mine, which, save for my desk carrying two monitors, a coffee machine, a rice cooker, and several nigh-empty notebooks, is unadorned and monochromatic—has been inconsistently decorated: several pairs of shoes and patternless rugs of mismatched colors occupy the floor before his bed. His wardrobe stays open to display a collection of plaid outerwear and two or three sweatshirts emblazoned with brands or colleges hanging below numerous supplement bottles on the high shelf, all above a modest pile of books, including Pet Sematary, which he seems to shift frequently to/from its place here and his pillow, yet which he never seems to get any closer to finishing, and likewise a copy of The Subtle Art of Not Giving A Fuck that I know he had been reading but that remains perpetually bookmarked. His walls look for the most part like the hall of a theatre that only plays Marvel films, except by the left side of his desk where he hangs a corkboard of motivational quotes and minor academic accolades, among them something of a people’s choice award for pleasant and productive dorm residents. Upon the desk itself, a coffee brewer he uses only for hot chocolate, as well as an instant pot, a laptop, a spare monitor, and always a psychology textbook or an associated notebook, sit. His side stinks because of the food he leaves around some days in his pot, occasionally so long as from morning until evening, braising in the near sunlight.

I take one of his mugs from its place beside the brewer and fill it with tap water from the bathroom (left of the foyer; my side of the room). When I return to where I had been, I set the mug on his desk, unplug his laptop, then submerge the snout of its charging cable. I remove my hands like extracting a Jenga block, and—satisfied that the cable will not slip out of position—flee to my own chair and shake my mouse until my screens reignite. On the left display I can keep track of my online friends while on the right I watch video somethings. I don headphones but leave my right ear uncovered. As I put something on and listen impartially, I leap my feet to the forward edge of my seat and hug my shins, resting my chin between my kneecaps.

My room is so close to an outside entrance that I will hear anyone entering or exiting the hall, and because said entrance happens to be airlocked, I can differentiate entering from exiting based on the order of closing sounds, as the nearer of two doors always makes a bigger noise than the farther on account of being impeded by fewer walls. Therefore, the first door in-sequence slamming louder than the second denotes someone’s exit, and the second slamming louder than the first, someone’s entering. I can disregard leavers; what matters is that I prepared for him arriving. Given the sparse number of residences closer to this entryway than any of the building’s others, few people come through these doors, and few of those who do are without nagging friends or extensive daily occupations to keep them elsewhere constantly. Probably roughly half of all entering persons are my roommate.

crash-click. Crash-Click.

By the second click I have already punched pause on whatever it is that I had been listening to and risen from my seat—a singular motion: legs craned down propelling the chair backward, my body upward—both—such that without so much as an extra step, I can reach my roommate’s drowning charger cord and pluck it from the mug, which (the mug) I take and hide into one of my desk drawers upon realizing how obvious it might otherwise have been that I am the only one who could have filled his mug while he was away. I then push my chair into its slot under the desk and flee to cover behind the wall separating the bathroom from my bed. I open the Fellowship of the Ring—which had been planted on my pillow in advance—and pretend to have been reading it.

Creak—thump-thump: A neighbor opens and closes their door two rooms down.

I flip Fellowship onto its open pages and return to the cord. I shake the plug in the air and then rub the head with a finger and a thumb until it feels cool and dry. After plugging his laptop back in, I redraw his mug, dump its contents in the sink, plunge it with one of his hand towels I find hanging by the bathtub until the mug looks as though it had not been full of anything since morning, and return both to where they had been before I came in. I try really reading after that, but find myself distracted by the repercussions I might face for ruining his laptop. I figure that it will be impossible for him to deduce personally that I had done it, but suppose he gets it checked by a professional, might they establish water damage as the cause? If so, how else except by someone’s tampering can the cable have come into contact with so much water for so long? And the timing!—owner leaves his perfectly functional laptop in plain view of a stranger for just one entire day and, coincidentally, it happens to sustain water damage? Perhaps I can spin it that my roommate keeps all his appliances within inches of this laptop, that a leak or a spill may easily have spread over the exposed cable to cause the rusting. But only the cable? The rest of the computer is untouched. Will they check the laptop itself against my story? Whatever the case, a charger cable on its own is not too big an expenditure; I can handle that—ah, but I may be expelled from the dorm for bad conduct. Not to mention, living here with a man of indifferent opinion toward myself is too much to bear already; I am not prepared to progress to a relationship of mutual hatred. My computer sits unguarded in its place under my desk with hundreds of little air holes exposed, through which a retaliatory water-based attack can be made against my motherboard, processor, and what had been, just a couple years prior, a state-of-the-art graphics card. I cannot afford a replacement PC—especially not a more modern model, which it will have to be, because games’ ever-improving graphical fidelity threatens obsolescence for my current card as it is.

crash-click. Crash-Click.

I whisper a flurry of screaming into Middle Earth: “You fucking son of a bitch asshole worthless piece of shitty useless flesh! Go the fuck away! Stay outta my fucking room!”

A key clatters at my room’s door handle for several seconds.

To read on my bed I sit with my legs as right angles, knees in the carpet, abdomen pressing into the side of my mattress, book upon the covers, my eyes an inch from the pages, and I think—or maybe hope, rather—that this posture impresses of great concentration, so that when my roommate’s fat hairy fingers finally remember how to finagle that key into the lock, he will open the door, walk into my side of the room, see me (barely at the edge of his field of view, preferably), and decide I seem too engrossed to disturb. But really, when he does get that key to fit and the door handle squeals from turning and his heavy footfalls come slowly into the room and the door bangs closed and strikes its little metal tooth into the securing niche and he keeps walking into my half of the space carrying a sorry iceberg salad in a black plastic bowl with his right hand and forearm—which I guess is why the door had been so hard to open—what he does is in fact quite the exact contrary to what I think or hope: he turns to me with a smile on his face and speaks: “How’s it goin’, keRiSchin?”

Too late to ignore him; I have already obviously pivoted enough that he is full into my left eye’s ambit. “Fine~,” I say.

He stands there a second before disappearing behind the wardrobes. The rubber pads underneath his laptop roar as he pushes the computer across his desk to the wall, presumably making space for his meal, though I am not looking. He sets the salad onto the desk—presumably where the laptop had been—with a high plastic thud and drops his backpack at the foot of his bed somewhat delicately. He sits down, his seat creaking, and he slurps on the salad, for minutes. I know he must have seen the book in front of me.

Between the time he starts eating and the time he finishes, two or three pages have elapsed, but I remember not a phrase thereof. The swish of a shopping bag signals my roommate’s tossing an empty salad bowl into the garbage, after which point he scoots his laptop back into position—again, this is not actually seen, but rather implied by the horn-like cry of rubber friction—and, most quietly, he opens the machine and begins clacking keys. The budding hairs on my arms stand. He types on; meanwhile, I get through probably fifteen pages, the whole time overwriting Tolkien’s fantasy with my conceiving a means of leaving the room unsuspiciously. To that end I conclude that I will keep reading for a few more minutes before packing my satchel as loudly as possible to let my roommate know I have places to be in a hurry and that my subsequent leaving has nothing to do with him being in the room—because (from his perspective:), ‘see? He tolerated my being around for so long that I even finished my salad; it couldn’t have been me that made him want to leave. And look! Such haste! He must have just remembered something pertinent. I shouldn’t bother him.’

“Hey, keRiSchin? Can we talk for a second?” He says abruptly. A creak from the floor as he stands from his chair and a creak from his wardrobe as he leans upon it. Text bleeds into itself and congeals on the pages before me.

At length, I respond: “Sure,” a soft, elongated syllable terminating with a lilt to connote innocence and ignorance of whatever crime was committed that I must be innocent of.

“Are you doing alright?” He pauses. I say nothing, offer him the air. He is patient.

“I’m fine,” I say. A beat passes. “Why do you ask?” I flip my book onto its face and turn, staring, though, at where the wheels of his chair meet the floor.

“Just checking; when I came in it almost looked like you were crying.” I was not. He begins his chickeny chuckle but cuts it after the first cluck.

“Nope. I’m fine.”

“Alright,” he says, before returning to his seat.

The text has become illegible. There is now no feasible way for me to leave this room inconspicuously. Whether I exit now or in another twenty minutes, he will suspect that I had just lied to him, even in spite of my having told him the truth.

Idea: I shut Fellowship over a folded page corner. I reach under the bed’s skirt to where several shelves open up in the bedframe and draw from one such alcove various Dungeons & Dragons manuals. I thump them (noisily) onto the covers, ruffle the satchel I keep by my bedside and unzip it (noisily), then one by one deposit (noisily) each of the manuals into the largest of the satchel’s compartments. I sling the now rather heavy bag over one shoulder and hurry to the door.

My second foot is on its way out when my roommate says his “Ope! Seeya later, keRiSchin.” I let the room door fall shut and shove through the airlock. Outside, the sky gradates upward from yellow to blood orange to periwinkle and blues darker from then on, culminating to an ultramarine cosmos periodically obscured by fiery cloudbanks. The sun lays arms between campus buildings in an otherwise saturated and lightless suburban desert. My dormitory stands across a road from the back-east corner of campus, perpendicular to the sun’s rays, merely half the height of the towers on the horizon: the psychology ward, like a slice of concrete penitentiary; the newly constructed freshman hall, all glass and artsy geometry; and along the distant frontward face of campus, the old “normal school” towers, which, so far away— with their vaulted roofs and cyclical windows—make clock tower silhouettes. I exhale the entire capacity of my lungs and without urgency don a pair of aviators, drenching all of everything in bronze film.

#my writing #writing #postmodern #transfem #traumaqueer #transgender #deadname

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eberles · 4 years ago

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On The Course

Rafe Cameron

if this gif is yours, lmk and i’ll tag you!

A/N: this is the longest thing i’ve ever written coming in at 3.8K!! it’s set the summer AFTER the show so like a year later basically and rafe isn’t a murderer obv, it’s also loosely based on A Cinderella Story - the one with Hilary Duff, okay enjoy :)

Warnings: mentions of parent death, brief mention of toxic living environments, swearing, lots of dialogue (idk if that needs a warning but)

You never had many friends growing up, or any really. Except JJ, he was always there for you, your very best friend and even though he offered all the time for you to hangout with the other pogues, you always declined. Of course, you went to school with them and had classes together and sure they were nice, but you never actually felt welcome. JJ was the first friend you made when you moved to the Outer Banks after your parents died. It’s been 4 years since then and living with your ugly aunt and her horrible twin daughters was the last thing you ever wanted for yourself. The only upside of moving to Outer Banks all those years ago was meeting JJ.

Everyone assumed you were dating and both of you had considered the fact, but quickly decided that it wasn’t meant to be for the two of you. JJ liked to be a playboy and he wasn’t really your type anyways. for years you watched him get with girl after girl while you sat idly by watching and looking out for him, never having a guy of your own to trot around with. You never minded it though, being by yourself gave you a sense of comfort and with your current living situations, your cousins made it difficult for you to have many friends or otherwise anyways. JJ always made you feel better about it though and assured you that you didn’t need a man to be happy because of how independent you were and how ‘one day you’re gonna get out of here and meet the guy of dreams, the one that lives up to your standards.” You would always shake your head and roll your eyes at him when he said that, but he believed it. At least the getting out of here part. JJ knew from the moment he met you 4 years ago that you weren’t destined to be on a little island like Outer Banks and you had bigger things coming to you. For now, this was home and you were making the best of it.

“JJ, please talk to your boss. I need a job, I have to get out of my house this summer.” you begged JJ one sunny afternoon, knowing that school was ending in a few days.

“Y/N, you’re gonna hate it. Trust me, you don’t wanna serve a bunch of rich pricks.” JJ sighed, looking over at you briefly and noticing you had your best puppy dog look plastered onto your face, the one you always knew got him to cave. “Fucking fine, i’ll talk to him.”

A few days passed and you were finally done with school. This was your last summer before heading off to college and as much as you didn’t want to spend it working, you knew your aunt had no intention of giving you any money for college. So here you were, serving your first day as a cart girl at the most prestigious country club on Figure 8. The course was fairly slow today and you had a small training session for the first few hours of your shift, but it wasn’t all that hard. Drive around, serve drinks, get tipped. As you were riding around on your little golf cart you noticed none other than Rafe Cameron flagging you down.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” you refrained from immediately rolling your eyes at him and forcing a smile onto your face as you climbed out of your cart.

“I’ll just get a beer, thanks.” he pointed to his beer of choice and watched as you poured the beverage slowly into the plastic cup. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“That’s because I just started.” you stated pointedly, handing Rafe the drink and giving him a small smile. “Can i get you anything else?”

“Do you know how to golf?” Rafe was speaking before he could stop himself and you were taken aback by his question, let alone his politeness towards you. You’d never actually come in contact with the boy in front of you, but you’d heard horror stories from JJ surrounding the summer before. You shook your head no, not moving back to your cart just yet curious to where this was heading. “Do you wanna give it a shot? I can teach you.”

You knew you shouldn’t, JJ would scold you up and down for it, after previously warning you Rafe was an often golfer and that you’d probably see him quite a bit, but this wasn’t the Rafe you were expecting. Not after JJ’s multiple stories of Rafe beating him and the other pogues up and constantly giving them a hard time. However, you couldn’t stop yourself from agreeing to Rafe’s offer. Moving closer to him and grabbing the club from him you did exactly what you’d seen in the movies: knees spread, club down, aimed at the small golf ball and raising your arms back only for them to swing the club right into the dirt.

“Damn, you weren’t lying.” Rafe chuckled, taking a spot behind you making sure it was okay that he helped you first. Rafe was a good 6 inches taller than you, but when he came up you could still feel his breath hitting your ear causing your heart to beat out of your chest and goosebumps to erupt all over. He wrapped his arms around yours, placing his hands over yours adjusting your grip on the club. “Ready? One...two...three.”

“Oh- oh my god! I did it! Well you did it, but I did it!” you turned around in Rafe’s grasp jumping up excitedly after watching the ball move this time. Before Rafe could react, realization hit you that you were at work and not making a very good first impression. “I have to go, I'm sorry.”

You ran back towards your golf cart, jumping in and driving off checking in on the other golfers. Rafe had a big smile on his face watching the cute new girl drive off. He felt a sense of home building in his chest after your small interaction and he wasn’t sure what was going on. No girl had ever affected him the way you did and he didn’t even know your name. Yet.

“Dude, what’s got you blushing?” Topper asked, joining him on the course and snapping Rafe out of his thoughts about you.

“Have you seen the new cart girl?”

“Yea she’s cute but she’s a pogue.” Topper stated and Rafe looked at him skeptically not wanting to believe the words. Rafe was almost positive he’d never seen you around before and definitely not with the other pogues. Granted, the way everything happened last summer he never saw the pogues anymore, choosing the high road and turning himself into a better man so he could eventually leave Figure 8 on his own.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Y/N!” you turned around hearing JJ calling your name. You just entered the cut after having to walk home from your first shift at the country club. “I’ve been texting you for hours.”

“Oh sorry JJ, my shitty phone died.” you shrugged letting JJ catch up with you before continuing your walk home.

“How was your first day?” you knew JJ would ask, but you hadn’t quite figured out what you were planning on telling him. Do you bring up your weird but pleasant interaction with Rafe?

“It was good! It was a pretty slow day, perfect for learning.” JJ hummed in response, looking at you quizzically not fully believing you didn’t have anything more to say. You decided to keep it short, not looking forward to JJ mocking your newfound connection with his enemy. You felt bad enough about it without having him breathing down your neck. JJ walked you home, the two of you making small talk for the rest of the short distance to your house.

“Charge your phone, how else will I annoy you?” you rolled eyes, laughing at what JJ said, pushing on his chest.

“Goodbye JJ, Y/N has things to do.” your aunt spoke, catching you off guard as you were saying bye to JJ outside your house. JJ gave you a sympathetic look before walking off, never wanting to leave you alone with them. “Y/N, I’m going out of town tomorrow. I’ll be leaving you this list to work on while I'm gone. I expect everything to be finished. You will go to work, come home and work some more. Zero play time and in the house everyday by 6 pm, missy.”

“Okay but there’s this one event the country club is having and it’s a night shift for me.” you followed your aunt around the small house, hoping she would let you out of the house for Midsummers knowing the tips would be great.

“Well that’s not going to work, now is it?” she huffed, shoving the 7 page list into your hands and storming off, her heels clicking with every step. “One page for everyday, don’t miss anything.”

The next day your aunt left just like she planned to, her twin daughters staying behind to ‘keep an eye on you’ but really, they were just going to annoy you the whole time. The only thing you could really look forward to anymore was going to work and hoping the customers were nicer than your cousins.

“Y/N, we’re coming with you today!” the twins spoke at the same time with fake chipper voices.

“Great.” you deadpanned, turning away from them and making your way towards their shared car and climbing in the back seat. The drive was short and they talked the whole way there so you practically jumped out before the car stopped moving noticing your arrival. You were feeling giddy to be at work today secretly hoping you would see a certain kook boy again. You didn’t know much about him, only the awful things JJ had spoken about him briefly but didn’t see that side of him only enticing you to know more.

After a few hours driving around the course serving drinks to mostly middle aged white men you finally noticed Rafe with a few of his friends. You wanted to talk to him again, but having his friends around made you unsure about the situation so you decided to play it cool.

“Did you guys want drinks?” you stopped on the path behind them before getting off the cart and making your way to them.

“Rafe, is this your cute cart girl from yesterday?” Topper laughed, hitting Rafe’s back pushing him towards you and you noticed a blushing Rafe shoot a quick glare in his direction.

“Hey, how’s your second day going?” Rafe moved closer to you and the cart hoping to get out of ear shot from Topper and Kelce.

“It’s been good, lots of older men come around here I’ve noticed.” you laughed handing Rafe the same drink as yesterday since you remembered the specific beer he wanted. “It makes for good tips though so I can't complain.”

“Yea these guys might be old but they’re rich as fuck.” Rafe sipped his beer, smiling at you and apologizing for his friends being stupid behind him. “Hey so I never got your name-”

“Hey Y/N!” you turned, hearing your name being called and saw JJ running towards you. You mentally cursed because of course this was the one time he would ever step foot on the course to look for you. Rafe looked at you confused even though Topper previously told him you were technically a pogue yourself. “Y/N, your cousins are inside and they’re driving me crazy. I needed a break. What’s going on here?”

“Oh JJ, I’m sorry about them, they insisted on being here for my whole shift.” you ignored JJ’s last question, putting all the attention on your cousins, hoping it would deflect from you and Rafe chatting.

“You okay?” JJ asked in a hushed tone, glaring at Rafe and you laughed nodding your head yes. “Okay I guess I’ll go back inside then. Be careful.”

“So your name’s Y/N?” Rafe stood back a few feet while you had your short conversation with JJ and returned to your side once JJ started walking away. “I’m assuming since you know Maybank that you already know who I am.”

“Well I know of you, but if we keep meeting like this maybe i’ll be able to find out more.” you were feeling brave all of a sudden, hoping putting yourself out there would get your somewhere with Rafe. Everything felt natural with him, and you didn’t want to let that feeling escape you by ruining it.

“Why don’t you give me your number and then it won’t have to be exclusive to only here?” Rafe smirked, pulling his phone out and placing it in your hands. You laughed, typing your phone number in quickly and returning it back to him.

“I should really get back to work, Rafe but I’ll see you around yea?” you climbed back into your golf cart as Rafe smiled and waved bye to you.

The next few days passed and you hadn’t seen Rafe at the club, but you had been texting quite a bit. Just in a few days of talking you felt like you were already learning so much about him and his life. He told you everything from who his friends are to how overbearing and controlling his father was. He explained that he went to college at Chapel Hill for a year before dropping out and his father never forgave him. You shared your deepest feelings with him about your parents deaths and how your aunt and cousins were Satan's children. You told him you couldn’t wait to get out of Outer Banks and go off to college at the end of the summer. He understood you and you meshed together so well just after a few days.

i haven’t told my dad, but after getting my shit together this past year i started applying to schools. my first choice is princeton.

princeton?! rafe, no way! that’s where i’m hoping to go.

You couldn’t deny the fast connection you felt with rafe, everything in your body was telling you that you belonged together. Rafe told you he was looking forward to seeing you at the Midsummers event tonight, but you had to break the devastating news that there was no way you could go.

curfew is 6 pm cameron, get with it😂

jesus, i’m sorry i didn’t know you were 7

You laughed at the text on your phone when a tapping noise on your window startled you. You dragged yourself out of bed to see JJ standing on the ground below you.

“JJ, what are you doing?!” you whispered after opening the window and sticking your head out.

“I'm coming up!” JJ whispered back, scaling the side of your house next to your bedroom window. Lucky for him there was a small rock wall giving him the perfect entrance. “I'm breaking you out, you’re coming to Midsummers.”

“JJ, I can't! They’ll kill me if I leave!” JJ gave you a look as if to say ‘stop being a baby.’ It only took a few more seconds of convincing from JJ for you to agree. He successfully helped you out your window and down the rock wall without your cousins noticing you had left for the night. JJ borrowed John B's van and left it parked a few houses down so the twins wouldn’t be suspicious.

“Thanks for this, JJ. You’re the best.” you smiled wide, feeling free for the first time in a while. It was nice getting out of the house while it was dark out.

“As much as I want to take credit, I can’t. This was Rafe’s idea.” you looked at JJ with wide eyes, completely caught off guard.

“What?!” you all but screamed, not sure why JJ would ever talk to Rafe about you. Especially since you hadn’t even told JJ that you and Rafe were talking almost constantly.

“I’ll try to forgive you for not mentioning your budding relationship, but yea. Rafe came to me and apologized for everything last summer and although I don’t forgive him. He does talk pretty highly about you and I can't deny that.” JJ explained and you couldn’t have been more proud to call him your best friend in these moments.

Once you arrived, JJ snuck you in the back and you couldn’t help but take a peek out and notice Rafe standing by the bar dressed in a navy colored suit with his dad who looked like he was scolding him for something. He looked good, really good. JJ pulled you into the locker room handing you a uniform with a white shirt and a black vest to put over it and informing you that you were on drink serving duty. You made your rounds looking over at Rafe every so often wanting nothing more than to approach him. You noticed Rafe's dad pulling him away from the crowd with a yank to his collar and watching as he stood in front of him yelling and pointing a finger in his face. Your feet were moving before your brain could process it and before you knew it you were in front of the two.

“Hi, can I get you guys anything to drink?” you put the sweetest smile on your face, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious that you were trying to distract Rafe’s dad. Ward cleared his throat before looking at you and ordering a whiskey on the rocks with a fake smile on his face. Rafe took the opportunity to make a break for it while you wrote down his fathers drink, exactly what you hoped would happen. After returning to Ward with his drink you went looking for Rafe only to find him back inside the club.

“Oh look who it is, my savior.” Rafe teased, watching you approach him before pulling out a chair for you to sit next to him. “Thanks for that by the way, you didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did, I understand family issues all too well, Cameron.” you laughed, taking the seat beside him.

“I’m surprised to see you here, so much for that curfew huh?” Rafe smirked, eyeing you from across the table.

“Funny enough, JJ came up with this super smart plan to sneak me out. Usually he’s not that on top of it, but I guess something changed.” you joked and reached for Rafe’s hand across the table. “Thank you for talking to him, you have no idea how much it means to me.”

“I know it sounds weird, but I think I would do anything for you.” Rafe blushed, squeezing your hand in his and putting his head down to hide the pink tint on his cheeks. You pulled your hand from his and reached up to lift his face to look at your before moving in closer to him. Your lips brushed his softly before he pulled you closer by your waist and your lips molded to each other and you melted into your first kiss with Rafe.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt but Y/N your aunts outside.” you pulled away from Rafe hearing JJ’s voice and you couldn’t believe what you heard. You looked between the boys with a horrified expression on your face and walked passed JJ outside to where your aunt and cousins were standing and causing a scene.

“Where the hell is she?!” you frowned, running up to them, hoping you could get her to leave without losing your job.

“There you are! You ungrateful piece of trash! How dare you sneak out with this scum of a boy!?” with each word your ugly aunt used her finger to push on her chest and you felt the anger bubbling up inside of you.

“Don’t touch me! And don’t talk about him like that. I’m 18 now, you can’t tell me what to do anymore!” you pushed her hand away, yelling back in her face with JJ and Rafe watching you from a few feet away, everyone else at the party enjoying the show.

“I sure as hell can if you’re living under MY roof!” you could hear your cousins laughing from behind her and that only fueled more anger in you.

“Don’t worry about me, because I'm moving out.” you finally had it, you couldn’t take dealing with her for another second longer. Unbeknownst to you, Rafe and JJ were sharing knowing looks at each other as the scene unfolded in front of them.

“And where do you think you’re gonna go?”

“With us!” JJ spoke up, and you felt him take a place at your side with Rafe following his actions on your other side.

“Good luck with that. They’ll be tired of you soon enough, don’t come crawling back.” your aunt scoffed, rolling her eyes at the two boys and retreating back to her SUV, “Girls! Here! Now!”

You felt tears start to roll down your cheeks and you laughed feeling both the boys wrap their arms around you. “Everything’s gonna be okay now, y/n.”

“Jeez, I don’t know what to say. Thank you guys for being here.” The rest of the party goers were clapping at you standing up for yourself and finally being free of her even though they didn’t know you or your situation.

“You don’t have to thank us, Y/N.” Rafe smiled as you pulled him into a tight hug feeling safe as his arms wrapped around you.

••epilogue••

Summer was officially over and you were sad to be moving on, but you could easily say this was the best summer of your entire life. After the screaming match with your aunt you moved in with JJ and John B and yes it was tough adjusting to living with boys but it was amazing. You were finally getting close with the other pogues Rafe’s sister Sarah and you just wish you hadn’t waited 4 years for it to happen.

Rafe did some digging with a private investigator and found a savings account in your name for your full college tuition that your aunt had been hiding from you. Everything was falling into place for you and speaking of Rafe: you guys were officially dating and going two months strong. You felt the happiest you ever had in your entire life and he was partly to thank for that.

You wound up going to Princeton together and lived happily ever after. At least for now. Hey, you’re only a freshman.

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron blurbs #rafe cameron x reader

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transraptortrainer · 4 years ago

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Brooklyn unboxes Kenji's feelings about a certain fanny-pack-wearing, Anky-loving boy they know... Inspired by @theswampspirit 's post!

[FANFIC | Rated T for mild language. Spoilers for Camp Cretaceous S1!]

It was yesterday when they had found it. Footprints by the monorail, both that of small shoes and small dinosaur feet, trailed their way towards the main park. It was the first and only sign that their friend Ben had survived the attack by the pteranodons, and was still on the island with them.

However, despite their optimism, the kids had yet to find anything else. Rainfall soon after had washed away what remained of the prints, and even then, they were at least a day behind Ben - wherever he was going.

From the south dock, they traveled north to the golf course and reluctantly decided to settle there for the night. Small buildings, parking lots for carts, and rest stops for golfers dotted the grassy plains here. Brooklyn and Kenji remained at a concrete building, keeping the fire going as Darius and the others searched for supplies in the surrounding shops.

Brooklyn dipped a rag into a small creek and wrung it out slightly. Little bird baths like these were all the kids could manage so far. Unless they found some hot running water at the hotels in the main park, they wouldn't exactly be at their freshest until they were rescued. Not the greatest state of affairs, but "kinda clean" was better than "brachy-behind air quality".

To her right, Kenji sat, exhausted by their long day of travel. Brooklyn thought about the kind of person she had assumed Kenji to be when they first met, and then compared that to who he ended up being. Sure, he was still a jerk, but only sometimes. Perhaps the most surprising change was how distraught the boy had been after the group had lost Ben.

The fanny pack, previously dubbed "dork pouch", was tied around his waist, where it had been for days now. He never removed it. Even when Yaz offered to carry it instead, he refused to give it up. At first it was just...sad...it stood as a reminder that they had lost a friend. Brooklyn had wondered if she was the only one who was tired of looking at it and being reminded of the guilt.

But then there was yesterday. Sammy had spied the prints in the ground and was tied with Kenji for being the first to utter the idea that Ben was still out there. Ever since then, Kenji seemed more like himself. More like everything was alright in his world.

"You really do miss him, huh?" Brooklyn asked, airing her thoughts in the vaguest possible way.

"What?" Kenji replied, baffled. "No! Who are we talking about? I mean, what kind of monster wouldn't miss his friend-"

Brooklyn watched speculatively as the boy floundered at the question. It was hilarious, honestly, because who wouldn't think that Kenji, the idiotically boastful yet resourceful smartass, struggling to respond to a simple question was funny? And let's be real, that use of "friend" felt all the more ridiculous as Kenji's hand instinctively rested on the fanny pack around his waist.

Brooklyn raised an eyebrow and returned to wiping the dirt from her face and hairline. In the past day, the chance that Ben might still be alive felt so much greater. And on another note, it brought her a lot of guilt considering how quickly she assumed the frail, clumsy germaphobe hadn't made it. She had to hope that Ben's feelings wouldn't be hurt. But those signs they had found...it had to mean something.

"I'm just saying, you've seemed in muuuuch better spirits since yesterday," Brooklyn replied, dragging her sneakers in the loose dirt and piling up a shapeless mound. "Out of all of us, I know you were the most...lost by what happened."

Kenji scanned Brooklyn's face cautiously, some form of shock in his eyes. Maybe being raised a rich, only child with absent parents had something to do with it, but he always seemed so surprised by how well everyone read him. Maybe more so by the way no one took his bullshit for an answer.

"M-maybe," he finally said. He rubbed a palm against his neck, his brows furrowing. "Maybe!" he said again, seemingly just in case Brooklyn hadn't heard the first time. He looked at the ground, a smile coming across his face, but only briefly. "I wonder how he's doin' out there…"

Brooklyn rinsed the towel in the stream before snapping it dry and laying it out flat on the rail. "If I know him, he's probably desperately searching for some sanitizer," she joked with a chuckle.

"If he's not camped out by a log he also tripped on earlier!" Kenji retorted, and the pair's laughter echoed around the clearing, accompanied by the crackle of the fire.

However, it wasn't long after that Kenji grew quiet yet again. Brooklyn could tell this was one of those rare moments where he actually thought before he spoke. Leaned over his knee, he propped his head up on his hand. "But I wonder if he thinks he's alone here…"

That's a lot of wondering he's doing, Brooklyn thought. She had half the mind to make a joke about him using his brain too much, but that kind of sarcastic reply seemed more like Yaz's territory. "C'mon, Kenji. If we didn't send help back from the mainland, there's no way his mother wouldn't have. He has to know that."

Kenji nodded slowly, his thumb tapping the fanny pack yet again. "Plus he's got Bumpy, right? Anky-saurus-es or whatever are tough! Not tough enough to take the Indominus, but…" he added.

"Right!" Brooklyn said with an affirming point of her finger. Whimsically, she plopped onto the concrete ledge across from Kenji and observed him more.

Now, she didn't want to come off as too people-watch-y. That couldn't be good for the size of Kenji's head. He'd probably say something about how everyone looks to him for guidance or something else indicative of his constant attention-seeking behaviors. But even now, Kenji seemed well within his own mind.

Still thinking about Ben, she decided.

The two of them were pretty sweet together. Kenji liked to act like he wasn't a fan of Ben's cuddly and apprehensive nature, but surely he couldn't have hated it that much. Why? Because any good content creator knows when there's more than meets the eye. Maybe Kenji just needed a little push to make him realize. And Brooklyn was a master reporter, of course. If there was one thing she knew, it's that people love to talk about themselves.

"Ben's probably thinking of us too, don't you think? If he's out there, I mean," she began, tipping her chin up to look at the glimmering stars. "Maybe even thinking of you right now."

Kenji stirred, a small, tired smile making its way into his voice. "What do you mean? After I was such a jerk to him, I kinda doubt it."

"Really?" Brooklyn turned back to him, surprised.

Gesturing uncomfortably, Kenji seemed to regret his word choice. "Just that...you know, I yelled at him. Said that stuff about Bumpy." His voice trailed off with a surprising guilt. "I - we took him for granted, and it was...shitty of us."

Brooklyn nodded quietly. "Buuut, you also saved his life, you know. I think it's pretty clear that you made him feel safer," she stated warmly, pressing her hands together.

Kenji shuffled awkwardly, keeping his eyes on the dirt. "You think so?" he asked, before quickly adding, "Not that it matters to me, obviously… Wait, did he tell you that?"

Could he have been making it any more obvious? Brooklyn giggled, rolling her eyes. "You could call it intuition, or just common sense, seeing-things-because-I-have-eyes?" She lifted her legs onto the bench, laying with her back rested against the wall. "What do you think he'd be doing if he were here now, with us?"

"Besides churning up some kind of dino baby food for Bumpy?" Kenji said plainly, raising a brow. "He'd probably be flinching at every little noise, just like the rest of us, and clinging to m-" he cut himself off, a first ever blush faintly hitting his cheeks.

"Bingo…" Brooklyn exclaimed quietly with a wink. "Which brings me back to my first question, Mister Kon. You miss him, don't you?"

Kenji frowned. "If he was here clinging to my side, I'd obviously tell him to relax and let up his superhuman grip!" He paused, drumming his fingers on his knee. "Except I am kind of cold anyway, so if he wanted to sit with me then whatever."

"Soooo, you're telling me if we did find him," Brooklyn prodded. "You definitely wouldn't sweep him up in your arms and smile like the kid with the most candy bars on Halloween?"

"No!" Kenji replied indignantly. A moment passed. "...Well. Ugh, don't rule it out, I guess. Should've known you were just trying to get me to admit something embarrassing…"

She smiled softly, placing her hand on her chest proudly. "Well, Brooklyn is the name, annoying pestering is the game."

#benji #camp cretaceous #jurassic world camp cretaceous #jw:cc #ben pincus #kenji kon #i can't find what Brooklyn's last name is help #camp Cretaceous spoilers #fanfic

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jacaranda-bloom · 4 years ago

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October Fic Rec

I’ve been super slack in doing my monthly fic recs of late (sorry!) so this list covers the last 3 months and there’s lots of lovely fics to devour!

In this instalment, there are fics from @lesbianiconharrystyles @kingsofeverything @mediawhorefics @lululawrence @harryanthus @evilovesyou @fallinglikethis @cocoalou @gaycousinlarry @comebackassholes @daggerandrose @allwaswell16 @sadaveniren @all-these-larrythings @wait4ever @jaerie @laynefaire @harrybridgers and @missandrogyny.

Thank you to all the writers for sharing their wonderful talent with us. Please don’t forget to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoy their work. 💜

New Reads

💜 Ever Since I Tried Your Way | @lesbianiconharrystyles / flowercrownfemme | E | 26k | June 2020 | 1940′s/50′s, farm/ranch, farmer Louis, farmer Harry, virgin Harry, gay cowboys, repression, internalised homophobia, hurt/comfort, gender exploration, marriage kink, feminisation, romantic face shaving, body worship, country music | As soon as I started this fic I knew it wouldn’t be able to put it down. It’s just... gosh. The writing is stunning and I was completely immersed from the first page to the last.

💜 Have Love, Will Travel | @kingsofeverything | E | 97k | Sept 2020 | road trip, camping, friends to lovers, smut, humour, youtube, POV Louis, slow burn | God, this story was everything I wanted it to be and so much more. Amazing relationship building and great communication. Hilarious, brilliant dialogue, heartwarming.

💜 Love You In The Dark | Perzikje | E | 10k | Oct 2020 | wedding night, arranged marriage, smut, dubious consent | Sexual exploration and first times. Check authors note.

💜 All These Lights | @mediawhorefics | E | 35k | Nov 2015 | ABO, X Factor, consensual under age sex, omega Harry, alpha Louis, angst with a happy ending, smut | I’m a sucker for a good ABO fic and this one didn’t disappoint.

💜 I Go Down Blazing, Feeling Like I’m Going Crazy (series) | @lululawrence | NR | 30k | Niall / Rory McIlroy | Oct 2020 | soulmates, famous/famous, singer Niall, golfer Rory, pining, diet angst, no smut, heartbreak weather, based on Dear Patience and Bend The Rules | This was my first time reading Niall/Rory and I adored it. Brilliant take on the soulmate trope too, heartwarming and tender.

💜 Who Do You Burn For | @harryanthus | NR | 4k | Oct 2020 | strangers to lovers, implied/referenced drug use, references to addition | I am such a massive fan of this author and I will inhale anything they publish. More like poetry than prose. So evocative.

💜 Point. Drop, Call. | @evilovesyou / 4ureyesonly28 | G | 1.6k | Jan 2020 | summer, best friends, summer romance, first kiss, party games, mutual crushes, coming out | This was absolutely adorable and managed to provide a whole-ass story in 1,610 words. All the summer feels.

💜 Eat Your Vegetables | bananaheathen | M | 9k | Aug 2020 | soccer player Louis, nutritionist Harry, shopping, banter, sexual realisation, smut | This fic sucked me in from the very first page, so much so that when I went back to grab the link to add to this post I ended up re-reading the entire thing. So witty and sweet and all the goodness in the world.

💜 For Wanting | anonymous | E | 5k | Oct 2020 | post mpreg Louis, male lactation, body worship, lactation kink, strangers to lovers, neighbours, dirty talk | Really sweet and hot, beautifully written.

💜 Pillow Talk | @fallinglikethis | E | 26k | Feb 2016 | friends to lovers, sexuality crisis, first time, mutual pining | I have no idea how I’ve never read this fic. Such a clever plot and perfectly delivered. Hot and funny and sweet and all the loveliness.

💜 The End | @harryanthus | T | 5k | Aug 2020 | post-war, selectively mute Louis, soldier Harry, psychological trauma, hopeful ending, non-specific time period | This is everything I usually avoid reading but this writer’s words just do something to my brain and I let down all of my protective barriers and dive in not caring about what I’m going to be faced with. I’m yet to be disappointed. When I read their fics I always feel like I’m floating or drowning or... I don’t even know how to describe it, but yeah. Wow.

💜 The Anticipation of Knowing You | @cocoalou / sweetrevenge | T | 13k | Sept 2020 | strangers to lovers, neighbours, pen pals, love letters, baked goods as a wooing technique | This was all kinds of lovely and funny and sweet. The premise is brilliant and I understand that we’re to be blessed with parts 2 and 3 in the near future, so yay!

💜 It’s Halftime. Are You Ready To Go? | @gaycousinlarry / momentofclarity | E | 12k | Oct 2017 | friends to lovers, awkward boners, pining, banter, flirting, dirty talk, body worship, smut, watching football as a seduction technique, Niall texts Harry terrible sporting innuendos to make him sweat, jockstraps | So fucking good. Sexy and cute and funny. Could read this one again and again.

💜 Salvation Let’s Their Wings Unfold | twoshipstiedup | M | 14k | May 2019 | angels and demons, heaven and hell, angel Louis, demon Harry, humour, fluff, romance | So much love for this fic. Way less heavy than the tags suggest. Niall is both supremely unhelpful and the captain of the ship as always. Fluffy and fun and romantic.

💜 Dom Louis (series) | @comebackassholes / dimpled_halo | E | 12k | Mar 2020 | dom Louis, sub Marcel, BDSM, kink negotiation | God. This series is amazing. Hot and sweet and nnnrrgggh. Really hope we get more in this universe.

💜 For You I’d Bleed Myself Dry | @daggerandrose / amomentoflove | E | 50k | May 2019 | vampire Louis, human Harry, soulmates, king Louis, angst, depression, blood drinking, past abuse, past kidnapping | I absolutely loved this fic. Beautifully written and so thick with emotion. Check tags, summary and author notes.

💜 Fellowship of Eroda | @sadaveniren | E | 5k | Feb 2020 | dungeons and dragons, gaming, hate to love, BDSM, face slapping, facials, wrestling, choking, spanking, Louis is a brat, so is Harry a bit | Adored this. Such a clever plot and the writing is amazing as always.

💜 Brooklyn Saw Me | alreadyhome | E | 29k | Nov 2017 | homeless Louis, uni student Harry, no-graphic violence, homophobia, angst, slow burn, hurt/comfort, NYC | Painfully beautiful and so well written. Loved it from start to finish.

💜 It Feels Different When You’re With Me | @all-these-larrythings / rearviewdreamer | M | 45k | May 2020 | deaf Louis, sign language instructor Harry, slow burn, mentions of major character injury in the past | God. This fic is amazing. Gorgeous writing and so romantic and sweet.

💜 We’ll Be Alright | @jaerie | E | 20k | Feb 2020 | ABO, alpha Harry, omega Louis, major illness, sick Harry, sex therapist Louis, dubious ethics, sexual dysfunction, depression, recovery, mating, knotting, unplanned pregnancy | Gosh. So good. So hot. So lovely.

💜 Let Me Be Your Everlasting Light | @laynefaire | M | 12k | Aug 2020 | established relationship, northern lights, Norway, romance, proposal | Loved every beautiful word of this. So romantic and sweet. Can I go to Norway please?

Re-Reads

💜 Here In The Afterglow | @harrybridgers / fondleeds | E | 89k | Dec 2016 | 1970′s AU, small town America, gay rights movement, period-typical homophobia, strange to friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, bullying, high school | Re-read of an old fave which hits differently each time I revisit it. Hauntingly beautiful and heartbreaking in some parts, but ultimately uplifting and hopeful.

💜 Led By Your Beating Heart | @missandrogyny | E | 30k | Oct 2015 | famous Harry, non-famous Louis, Call or Delete, Cute Lou from the Loo, coming out, smut, banter, romance | Still one of my all time faves. The plot is delicious and the flow of the whole story just makes me smile throughout. I find myself going back to this one every few months. Romantic and fluffy and sexy as all hell.

💜 Is This Seat Taken? | Lainy122 | E 35k | Dec 2015 | famous Harry, non-famous Louis, popstar Harry, seat-filler Louis (eventually), Louis and Zayn make bets, penis-shaped cashew nuts, miscommunication, shitty PR tactics | One of my all-time fave fics. I must’ve read this one more than ten times by now and it never disappoints. Funny and sweet and hot.

💜 When The Sun Won’t Let You Sleep | @allwaswell16 | E | 30k | July 2018 | enemies to lovers, scientist Louis, scientist Harry, Antarctica, sexual tension, smut, diet angst | Such an interesting plot that is handled so beautifully. I adore all of this authors work but this definitely up there with my faves.

#November 1 2020 #fic recs #ficrectag

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supeson · 4 years ago

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on my own feet

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine , part ten, part eleven, part twelve, part thirteen, part fourteen , part fifteen

Hanging out in the Cave is definitely a weird experience. Knowing you’re in one of the most dangerous but at the same time safest places on earth is comforting, but also gives you a twinge more anxiety than you normally deal with.

You had originally come over to see if Bruce wanted to Netflix and chill, but sadly, Alfred informed you that “Master Bruce will be out for the next foreseeable hours.”

“Well, shit. Never mind, then. Since I already took the bus all the way out here, do you think I could crash here?” You ask, thumping your overnight bag on the floor of the foyer.

“How presumptuous. You’ve certainly come far from the shy young person that darkened this very door step two years ago,” Alfred says, raising an eyebrow. He steps aside nonetheless, a hint of a smile on his face.

You pump a fist like a golfer that’s just made a difficult shot as you walk past Alfred. “Well, to be fair, I’ve seen and been through a lot of shit since then. I’m anxious about other things now, my man.”

You putter around the mansion (which consists of trying to help Alfred with his daily tasks and failing), until Alfred wordlessly leads you to the dining room. Just as you’re about to ask about the books on the shelves, he moves the hands on the grandfather clock and sweeps and arm towards the stairs. “Master Bruce should be back in about an hour.”

You don’t say it, but you know he’s just trying to get you out of his hair. You at least have the decency to act accordingly; heading down the stairs with an apology and a sheepish smile on your face.

You’ve been down here for about an hour and some change, sitting and spinning in the chair in front of the computer, about to boot up another 45 minute YouTube video about some board game, when the waterfall at the end of the drive parts, and a motorcycle comes speeding inside. It comes to an abrupt stop in the circle a couple of yards away from you. Looking closer, you see it’s the Red Hood. He rips off his helmet, throwing it to the ground.

“Dumb fucker, how is it my fault those assholes caught us? Can’t even fuckin’ sneeze in front of the Bat without him blaming me for a typhoon in the Philippines. The kid was fine, I don’t- “ He cuts himself off as he locks eyes with you.

“Damn, how many blue-eyed, black haired orphans does Bruce know?” You don’t mean to say, but it slips out anyway. Red Hood immediately goes on the offensive, stalking towards you, when the waterfall parts again, and the Batmobile comes screeching in. Damian jumps out, flips over to his father’s side, lending him a hand as he hobbles out.

Bruce spots you instantly. “Why are you down here.”

You raise your hands defensively, eyes wide. “I was annoying Alfred, so he popped me down here where he wouldn’t hear my screams anymore.”

He wants to respond, but winces, so you hop out of your chair to go help him. Jason watches the exchange and starts forcibly laughing. “Aren’t you a little old to be a new sidekick? Don’t tell me he’s got you convinced of his ‘grand plan’ for Gotham. It’s all horseshit, y’know?”

“Jason.” Bruce staggers, and you buckle under his weight. Damian doesn’t even flinch (despite being shorter than you. You try not to feel miffed about it), just starts walking towards what you assume is their medical bay. You hobble beside him, trying support more of his weight. Hearing a screeching noise, you look back to see another motorcycle park itself beside the car, Batgirl popping off the bike and rushing past you into the next room, no doubt getting stuff ready.

You get him onto the table (well, Damian does, really), and Alfred apparently summons himself downstairs, knowing what’s going on without anyone saying anything. Cass passes him stuff as needed, while you’re plastered to the wall, watching with wide eyes. Thankfully it’s nothing too bad, just some gashes and wicked nasty looking bruises. Some stitches and whatever military-grade Neosporin they have on hand should do the trick, if you were to hazard a guess. Alfred gently pushes you from the room, assuring you that Bruce will be fine. Jason is waiting outside, arms crossed, waiting.

“So, what is it?”

You whip your head in his direction. “What?”

“What’s making you stay. You evidently know everything there is. What’s not clicking? He doesn’t give a shit about you, really. All he cares about is cleaning up Gotham. You’re just a side piece. As soon as you get hurt, or even killed, he’ll just move on. Why not take your bag and go?” Jason asks, eyeing you up and down. Tears burn at the back of your eyes.

“Todd. Stop.” Damian pipes up from the computer, chair turned around to watch the display.

“No, I wanna know. What is it? The money? You could get more somewhere else.” He snorts, “It can’t be the baggage. There’s not enough therapy in the world for him to unpack all of his issues. Y’can’t fix him, that’s for damn sure. What makes him so interested in you? Damian gave me the rundown on your situation. Are you hoping to move into the Mansion and live happily ever after? Because it won’t happen.” His arms are uncrossed, and there’s a a cold fire behind his eyes. He knows he’s pushing all the right buttons as tears start to fall. One more push and-

“Fuck you.” Your voice cracks as you say, but it’s enough. “Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m some fucking wet cat Bruce picked up out of the trash. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a gold digger. I don’t want his fucking money. I’m sure if I met him on the streets and he had not a penny to his name, we'dstill be together. I don’t give a shit. I love him for his heart, okay. Is that okay? Can I just live my fucking life? I’d be content living in my shitty little apartment for the rest of my life and having him over to let my cats rub all over him and sit with me. And y’know what? I dunno. I dunno why he likes me so much. But that’s fine! As long as we still love each other, I don’t care. I don’t know you, or what your fucking problem is, but you can eat my whole ass.” You turn on your heel and go back into the bay, tears still falling. “I’m gonna sit with my fucking boyfriend.”

You slam the door behind you and sit beside Bruce, finally wiping your eyes and pulling out your phone to fuck around on until he’s lucid enough to talk to. You’re loading up your favorite rhythm tapping game when you hear him croak, “Eating your ass is my job.”

You drop your phone in surprise, face inflamed. He’s got one eye cracked open, his fingers wiggling. You that that for the signal it is and intertwine your fingers with his. “You’re not gonna be able to eat any ass any time soon, y’know. Someone’s gotta pick up the slack while you’re outta commission.”

Bruce lets out a laugh, a real, genuine laugh, and you start laughing too, which devolves into hiccups.

The rest of the night, you make him watch the new Babysitter’s Club reboot with you on your phone, until he’s okay enough to go upstairs to his own bed. Bruce wouldn’t have it any other way.

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne/reader #batman #batman x reader #batman/reader

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1ddiscourseoftheday · 5 years ago

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Thurs 1 Aug

Harry is, unsurprisingly, everywhere today. Lots more gucci fragrance campaign materials today as expected, including footage of Harry driving a vintage car recklessly through a field, fabulous and shades of real life; always the driver. Tons of behind the scene shots, really gorgeous HQs, the actual perfume hit the shelves, and loads of press coverage including an interview. Harry's quotes in it are sweet, some of them quite nice really, like when he talks about finding his own style and "becoming a lot more comfortable" (and others are hilariously deadpan trolling, I'm pretty sure) but the article itself is pointlessly shitty, leaning heavily on a tired Harry vs 1D-who-were-holding-him-back narrative, booorring. Also irritating- Karamo from Queer Eye's recollection of meeting Harry, which is that he told him about the existence of Grindr and blew his little straight guy mind. Okaaay sure. Since literally no one believes that Harry was, as we're told, unaware that it was possible to online date or hook-up, given that he's not actually a recently arrived alien from another planet, interpretations are that either Karamo was covering for him or that he didn't actually out himself to someone who he met only briefly and in a professional context. I'm picturing wide eyed incredulous and innocent looking Harry egging him on like "oh my gosh rilly tell me more"....it's funny, but it isn't too. I wonder if it being that easy to convince people he's slow is depressing for Harry or if at this point he just finds being that drastically underestimated useful. In any case I certainly think he enjoys looking interviewers in the eye and saying things like "oh yes I sleep in the gucci fragrance every night" or "my mom smells like Roman Candles" (and I'm looking forward to more of this fragrance related nonsense in the coming weeks) and watching them nod seriously. Idk if he has a movie role coming up or not but I nominate our boy for an Oscar either way, he's a pro. Unlike, to give just one totally random example of some very unprofessional behavior, the fellow gucci model who let herself be recorded having a crude and graphic conversation about wanting to fuck Harry which was then posted publicly along with a bunch of thirst posts, and said yeah that was me lol when asked like there was nothing wrong with that kind of gross behavior. The posts are down now but what difference does that make? Imagine using your fifteen minutes of fame to say things like that in a public forum about a co worker when you could use it for literally anything else, SMH.

Today we got a video of Liam conversing with to a goat!! That's it that's today's Liam news. Welllll... Okay fine there's more. He also had a big interview article; he says he has an underwear shoot coming so brace yourselves for that, and music soon (oh for more details but the quote is literally "I have music coming soon," not a word more) but mostly it's about clothes of course. Asked about favorite past looks he brings up the Japan This Is Us premier UM YES that truly was an iconic look good call! He referred to his collaboration with Hugo as "a marriage of two brands" which is initially jarring, to see someone refer to themselves as a brand, but he's not wrong is he? I read it as more of one of those slips into the backstage version of talking about things, and will choose to believe or at least hope that Liam is clear on the difference between himself as a person and Liam Payne™️.

Meanwhile, Niall does me a solid and gives me an excuse to mention the excellent pictures posted yesterday of Yungblud and Lewis Capaldi snogging by commenting (😂😂😂) on the post, answers a tweet about whether he has a skin care routine ("yes I do indeed") and he also has an interview out today, in Today's Golfer. He talks about, surprise surprise, golf, for example his mission to get some of his following of 1D fans to take up golf.

And the UK celebrated Yorkshire Day in the best possible way- by tweeting lots about Louis Tomlinson, aka "Doncaster's finest export." Zayn was mentioned here and there as well, but he hasn't tied his image to his northern origins the way Louis has so I'm not surprised he didn't come up as much. That's all the Louis for today, as the "end of July" release date for 1883 Magazine turns out to be a sometime in Aug delivery date so we'll have to wait a little longer for the "interesting news" the interviewer told us we could expect. Plenty of time to get excited about what in the end, might or might not be interesting, only time will tell.

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harryfeatgaga · 5 years ago

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Paigey-poo, do you have any tips for finding your passion? I have hobbies, but I can’t really make a career out of being a shitty golfer, reading, listening to music, or spending time with friends. In an ideal world I would pursue something like music production or something like that. I think the thing that scares me is that it’s male dominated as are most things. I feel so lost, and like I’m just stagnant. I want to be passionate about a career and degree. Idk sorry for rambling

honestly im with you lol I decided a major and I find it very interesting and im very into it but my true passion isnt what im majoring in but tbh even my true passion isnt really even my true passion anymorekdjnfbhujick SO ALL IN ALL IDK WHAT IM DOING P MUCH

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cts2008 · 5 years ago

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Hiker

During his physical, the doctor asked the patient about his daily activity level.

He described a typical day this way:

“Well, yesterday afternoon, I waded along the edge of a lake, drank eight beers, escaped from wild dogs in the heavy brush, jumped away from an aggressive rattlesnake, marched up and down several rocky hills, stood in a patch of poison ivy, crawled out of quicksand and took four leaks behind big trees.”

Inspired by the story, the doctor said, “You must be one hell of an outdoorsman!“

“NAH,” he replied, “I'm just a shitty golfer.”

Describes me to a tee

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toonstarterz · 6 years ago

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BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #143

So in keeping with the recent trend of bringing back older characters, Watamote goes for a throwback and puts the OG trio into the spotlight. With Kii-chan, we got to experience how Tomoko managed to rekindle a previously strained relationship (somewhat). Will the Tomoko-Yuu-Komiyama team finally become a true circle? Or is it destined to exist as an awkwardly shaped, but cohesive oval?

Chapter 143: Because I’m Not Popular, The Three Of Us Will Study Together

As always, Komi’s looking damn fine with her patented punk/goth style. Those open-shouldered skull shirt, slick choker, asymmetrical skirt, and striped leggings all come together to make her look like a total rockstar. It’s delightfully contrasted by the fact that’s she’s a pervert with a baseball obsession, but being fashion-conscious does help to round out her..unsavory side.

But, Yuu, sweetheart, as much as a skater dress looks good on you, you could do without the spikes. Granted, I’m hardly an authority on fashion, and in some circles, I’m sure it looks great. But it’s doesn’t seem as...flashy as she usually presents herself. Perhaps it’s because she’s with Tomoko and Komiyama that she doesn’t feel the pressure to be overtly stylish, and is more comfortable with something more subdued.

Man, the throwbacks just keep on comin’. What’s next, are they going to find Tomoko’s Yandere Boys Verbal Abuse CD hiding in her room?

Friendly reminder that Tomoko is, was, and will always be a piece of shit.

That said, Tomoko isn’t the type to be mean just for the heck of it. Her usual targets like Komiyama and Yoshida are only targeted because it’s been made apparent that they can handle it. With Komi-something, Tomoko knows that she’s not utterly irredeemable, which is why she takes any opportunity she can to milk Komi’s indecency. Because otherwise, she’ll be the bitch, and that’s a line even Tomoko won’t cross.

This chapter should be titled, “-the four of us will study.”

Speaking of which, Yuu and Komiyama have never seen Tomoko’s big plushie before, right? They probably think that it’s evident of Tomoko’s hidden cute side but if they ever found out about all the questionable things Tomoko does to the poor thing, that idea is sure to be shattered.

I suppose I should address the elephant in the room and ask what the hell is it with Yuu and her incessant sweating? Not even down her face or anything, but it flies off her body. Could this be her unique way of expressing hidden anxiety? That’s a scary possibility, to be sure.

No, there’s supposed to be beer cans everywhere with inebriated kids playing footsie under the table that quickly escalated into necking and–oh, wait, this is reality. My bad.

Ah, so these are the friends that Yuu-chan often brings up but we’ve never really seen before. They certainly look like a lively bunch, though that’s really all one can say from a single panel. Granted, if Yuu's school does have relatively inferior academics, then I imagine there’s a bit more goofing off going on here than actual studying.

Same here. That’s the reason yours truly goes off to work at the local cafe rather work at home. Too many distractions and external stimuli at your abode, and no one to hold you accountable for slacking off.

Not entirely sure if this is a joke lost in translation, but apparently Komiyama is humming a ditty about the Chiba Lotte Marines, namely infielder Nakamura Shougo. That’s actually kinda cute.

Got nothin’ to say. Itou just looks adorable here.

This, however, is decidedly NOT cute.

As the series’ resident purevert, Komiyama’s crush on Tomoki has always fluctuated between two extremes: innocent, schoolgirl affection and disturbingly fetishistic lust, and this line about, um...licking Tomoki’s eye circles falls way into the latter. For the record, I’m generally nonjudgmental about one’s unharmful sexual preferences–to each their own, you know–but given Komiyama’s history, I’m genuinely concerned for Tomoki’s wellbeing should the girl ever get her paws on him.

Itou is canonically the strongest character in the whole series. Those powers of perception were gained through unfathomable amounts of mental destruction.

Self-awareness? What self-awareness?

Is this going to be running gag now–Yuu innocently “complimenting” Komiyama with a between-the-lines insult?

I dig it.

Some may call it slacking, I call it strategic half-assery.

Ah, so Tomoko is officially aiming for a liberal arts school. For a girl who used to have zero prospects after high school, it’s uplifting to see Tomoko with an actual long-term goal in mind. It really is the only thing she’s reasonably passionate about, and the “starving artist” lifestyle actually fits pretty well with Tomoko’s approach to the world, so good for her.

Poor Yuu is never going to make it in the “real world”, is she?

Checking out the play-by-play when you’re supposed to be studying? Sometimes I forget that Komiyama actually has a cute side.

You know, given all the times when Tomoko and Komiyama are shitting at each other, these little bits of politeness between them are much more poignant. Sure, they’re being conscientious about it since Yuu’s there, but I can see this happening even if she wasn’t. See, Tomoko and Komiyama tend to mirror each other–insults are reciprocated with insults, and friendliness is reciprocated with friendliness. Even when they swing far on one side, something always pulls them back into equilibrium.

This would’ve been a good spot to put a gag here, with Komi expecting a strikeout only to explode with joy in front of her friends when the Lotte’s make an unexpected comeback. Instead, Nico Tanigawa goes for realism, validating the more pessimistic side of Komiyama. As for why they chose this route, I actually believe its to set up a little arc for Komi. As of now, baseball and Tomoko are her saving graces, and neither is looking good right now. Ultimately, this could lead to Komi facing the reality that dreams don’t always come true, and learning to accept that.

Yuu was definitely fishing for an answer to Nemo and Katou, and the fact that Tomoko doesn’t tell her right away is actually a good sign. Back in the old days, Tomoko would jump at the chance to “brag” about Yuu, her then-only friend because she was so insecure about their friendship falling apart. Since then, she’s made a number of meaningful friends, so that need to brag is long gone.

I love seeing characters describe other characters they’ve barely interacted with. Komi does see Nemo as a girl in the “sorta-in-crowd” so it makes sense that she would see her as “flashy”.

Says the girl who also dresses super fashionably.

Shocked, but not resentful. It’s uplighting to see Komiyama take Tomoko’s relative popularity in stride, and it’s a feeling that’s been there since the Kyoto Field Trip Arc. Despite having very few friends herself, she’s never thought poorly of Tomoko when the girl gained more friendships. If anything, it made Komiyama see her in a slightly better light now that she knows Tomoko isn’t completely irredeemable.

I could almost swear that Komi is doing that on purpose.

Cuties.

Everybody’s Golf is that PS4 game, correct? Good taste, this girl.

Shit, Tomoko, at least take her out to dinner first.

But it actually makes sense for why Tomoko brings it up like that. She knows that she’s at that stage in her relationship with Yuu that she just can’t casually molest her anymore (not that she should have been doing that in the first place, but still). Tomoko, the perv that she is, still has those shitty desires, but she’s more tactical about it. Like a politician.

Lol! Tomoko is such a jokester!

...right?

This harks back to those times when Tomoko fantasized about being an arms dealer/mercenary. Naturally, that’s a far cry from wanting to be a golfer, which is much more grounded in reality. Even Tomoko’s reasons about the payload and being a woman carries merit. Sure, it’s ultimately a fleeting interest, but at least her dreams aren’t so...how should I say, destructive anymore.

Even deeper into the realm of reality is her interest in being an esports streamer. Being a millennial, it’s a perfectly understandable desire that fits into Tomoko’s work ethic and personality. Sure, her last experience as a streamer was an utter failure, but now she’s got a good grasp on what it really takes to be one. My guess about Komiyama doubts stem from her thinking that female streamers become popular largely on their sex appeal, which Tomoko evidently does not have by most accounts.

Tomokitis (noun) – a rare disease characterized by an irrational lust for little brothers with baggy eyes named Tomoki. Prolonged exposure to Tomoki will worsen the lust to the point where mere proximity will trigger it. Those afflicted are forever hopeless.

As freaky as Komiyama is, I’m more impressed that her thirst for Tomoki overrides any disgust she may have at the possibility of being related to Tomoko. Well, Tomoki is basically a drug for her at this point, and junkies have accepted far worse to gain their fix.

Sploosh.

In the rare possibility that the universe decides to hook up Tomoki and Komiyama, Tomoko is going to make one hell of a cockblocker.

Shoot, even the cat gets a return appearance. Nico Tanigawa are really putting out all the stops lately with the nostalgia, ain’t they?

If memory serves, there isn’t a scene in the manga that shows Yuu being particularly interested in cats, so this was actually pulled straight from the anime. You know, that scene in the last episode where Yuu chases down a mentally broken Tomoko only to suddenly stop and pet a kitty? If they're willing to reference anime-original moments like that, then Nico Tanigawa must have fond memories of their anime adaptation.

Is Yuu taking about the dog or Yoshida? :p

Okay, so the dog. Wonder how she’d take to being compared to a pig?

First Pineapple-chan, and now Yuu-chan. It seems pretty mandatory that anybody outside of the loop would think that Yoshida was bullying Tomoko. Of course, once you realize that Tomoko has done things that would get her on the front page of a #MeeToo article, all bets are off.

Has Tomoko ever been this upfront about how she harasses Yuu? It was always my assumption that this was an unspoken reoccurrence between the two of them. At least the physical stuff anyway, as Tomoko is known for making “jokes” about getting Yuu knocked up. The poor girl really is too sweet for her own good.

While Yuu may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, that doesn’t mean she’s clueless about the sexual world (she supposedly lost her virginity after all). I’m sure she’s aware that most people wouldn’t tolerate Tomoko “accidental” groping, hence why she questions how someone could not bully her for that.

It’s pretty ironic how even though Yoshida is probably the most transparent character in the series, Tomoko still can’t figure out if she’s friends with her. That might be Tomoko’s fault somewhat as she’s the type who needs things spelled out to her, and given that Yoshida is more of an “actions speak louder than words” girl, you can see the barrier there. At some point, one of them’s going to have to take that first step and say it to the other’s face if this friendship is going to go places.

Poor Yuu. The first friend of the series is the last friend to see Tomoko’s growth.

This has been a headcanon of mine since the very beginning of the series, but I’ve always felt that Yuu Naruse had this inner sadness to her. That underneath her beautiful looks and kind personality was a girl who suffers more than she lets on. Remember, Yuu’s personality is fundamentally the same as it was in middle school, despite all the outwardly changes she made in high school. What Tomoko once called a “debut” could have actually been a survival tactic. Yuu never likes to be a bother, and her way of hiding her emotions isn’t always healthy, whether it’s holding back tears about a terrible beach, or making her friends sing for an hour at karaoke. And heaven forbid her breakup with her ex-boyfriend was uglier than she let on. Worse yet, Yuu knows her weaknesses, which only makes her self-deprecating moments hurt even more.

Perhaps I’m talking out of my ass, but hey, Yuu deserves an overcomplicated character analysis just like all the others.

And as always, Yuu, the angel she is, always puts Tomoko before herself...

I find it admirable that Komiyama is so secure about her social life. Her tiny circle of friends and lack of some Tomoki lovin’ have never truly brought her down, and she can even make fun of herself for it. It’s much different from Tomoko’s rampant self-consciousness of the earlier days, Some may argue it’s a lack of shame as opposed to self-confidence, but Komi is clearly making the best out of it.

Hikari, eh? Other than reminding me of a certain Pokêmon character, I wonder if that’s a joke about how Itou “lights up” when she unleashes her powers of observation.

...

So, um...fujoshi anyone?

The prices one pays to be a friend to Kotomi Komiyama.

All in all, this was a fairly easygoing chapter, as most chapters with the OG trio are. With the emotional rollercoaster that Golden Week had provided us, it’s nice to wind down a bit and reflect on the past. That’s not to say that this is a “recap” chapter by any means. Simply that this self-reflection exists to guide our heroines into the next stage of their young lives. It may be as simple as making a new friend over a perverted Skype call, but if there’s only one thing this series has taught us, it’s that the simple things are just the start of something greater.

#watamote #watamote review #chapter 143 #no matter how i look at it it's you guys' fault i'm not popular!#tomoko kuroki #yuu naruse #kotomi komiyama #tomoki kuroki #hikari itou #review

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harrywavycurly · 7 years ago

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You were going about your day as you headed off to work at your local golf course, signing in as a caddy and putting your white cap on just to see the name Horan next to yours meaning that’s who your first golfer of the day was. You looked around to make sure no one saw your little freak out that included a loud gasp mixed with a little squeal. You make your way to the break room to grab a bottle of water and chill a bit before going out to get your cart ready, his tee time wasn’t for another hour anyway. You prop your feet up on the table and slide your cap so it covers your eyes and blocks out the sunlight instantly helping you feel more relaxed.

You look down at your watch and see it’s about time to go meet Niall, have to catch yourself from fainting as he strolls in and hands you his bag with a smile on his face and a hand out ready to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m Niall.” You have to just act natural and politely shake his hand as you sling his clubs over your shoulder.

“Looks like a good day to golf. The wind isn’t too strong and the sun isn’t too high yet so you won’t sweat your ass off.” You instantly feel so dumb as the profanity slips out of your mouth but your reassured when you hear Niall laugh as he looks around checking out the course.

“S’nice here, ya got a favorite hole?” You almost choke on your own spit when you hear his question, your mind instantly forgetting he is talking about one of the 18 holes your course has. You silently thank the heavens he didn’t turn to look at you and catch your cheeks turning ten shades of red and your eyes go as wide as the golf balls you were carrying around in your pocket.

“Uh hole 5 is one of my favorites,” You rolled your eyes at yourself as the lie came out of your mouth. Hole five? That was a shitty hole with a sand trap the size of the Saharan desert why the hell did you say that? “It can be tricky.” You nodded your head at your save because you knew he was going to arrive at hole five eventually and judge you if it indeed was just a boring basic hole.

“Ah look forward ta dat.” You just nodded as Niall looked over at you and gave you a smile as he slid his sunglasses off and hooked them onto his shirt. You adjusted his bag on your shoulder as the two of you made your way towards the golf carts, you found the one that was your usual cart and loaded his clubs into the back. You were about to take your seat on the drivers side when you felt something hard underneath you.

“Uh figured ya jus tell me where ta go.” You had never wanted to die before but you figured now would be a great time for death to come and claim you when you realized you almost completely sat on Niall’s thigh.

“Oh shit I’m sorry, yeah i can do that.” You felt your cheeks get hot as you looked and saw Niall’s face mirrored yours as his cheeks became pink and he looked off in the distatnce while you hopped down off the cart so you could make your way around to the passengers side.

You managed to navigate Niall to the first few holes without any issues but as soon as you saw that the dreaded fifth hole was next you couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as he brought the cart to a slow stop. You knew he was going to take a look around just like he had at the last few holes and when he sees the sand trap he would instantly think you were a looney for saying this was your favorite hole.

“Dis one is yer favorite?” You felt your hands freeze for a moment as you looked over and saw Niall rubbing the back of his neck. “S’a bit sandy innit?” His chuckle made your knees get all wobbly because good lord it was so much better hearing it in person than on those Best of Niall Horan videos you watched before bed sometimes.

“Well some see it as sandy,” You began as you slung his bag over your shoulder. “Some see it as a challenge, I for one don’t mind getting a bit gritty.” You watched his eyes get wide for a moment before he cleared his throat and looked away from you causing you to just shrug and look down at his clubs getting ready to hand him his nine iron.

You watched him bend down and place the ball on the tee, you couldn’t help but notice the muscles in his back flex as he stood up and positioned himself with the club firmly gripped in his hands. You bit down on your bottom lip as you watched him swing his arms back and with one quick motion you heard the loud thwack of the club coming in contact with the ball. You watched his shoulders relax as he watched to see where his ball landed, you saw a small smile form on his face as he turned and reached his club out for you to take.

“Don’t think m’gonna get gritty dis round.” You felt your cheeks get hot as he walked past you towards the cart. You looked over your shoulder and saw him sitting in the driver’s seat with a slight smirk on his face.

“That’s a shame,” you teased as you loaded his clubs into the back of the cart. “always makes it a bit more exciting.” With that you watched Niall swallow hard before looking away from you causing you to laugh as you got into the passenger seat. You noticed his grip on the steering wheel tighten as he drove over to where his ball landed.

You couldn’t help but just watch in awe as Niall got positioned and when he swung his arms back the tip of his tongue poked out between his lips as he concentrated. The sound of the club hitting the ball making you jump a bit as you shook your head and stood up straight instead of leaning against his clubs. He watched the little white ball bounce a bit and when it finally stopped moving you noticed a smile form on his face as he turned to look at you.

“Not bad Horan.” You complimented as he handed you his club. He smiled and shrugged it off as he walked past you and took his seat in the cart. You quickly loaded his club into the golf bag and took your spot next to him. The next few holes went by rather quickly since you were beginning to understand his style, you learned what club he preferred for certain situations. Niall only had to correct you once but that was because you were busy daydreaming about what other talents he possessed and grabbed his putter when he really needed his nine iron.

“I wonder what his hands would feel like,” you were watching him place his ball onto the tee and as usual your mind took a turn that landed you smack dab in the middle of wondering what Niall’s hands would feel like on your body since they seemed so gentle with the little plastic ball. “Bet they are hella soft, but also rough from years of playing the guitar. Damn I’ve never been so jealous of a golf ball before.” You placed your hand under your chin as you watched Niall’s shoulders tense for a moment making you furrow your brows at bit.

“What?” You looked over your shoulder to see who he was talking to when Niall turned to look at you with slight wide eyes and pink cheeks. When you turned back to look at him he was raising an eyebrow at you. “Ya jus said yer jealous of a golf ball?” You felt your heart drop to your ass as you realized that your thoughts weren’t just said in your mind you had actually vocalized them and clearly loud enough that he heard.

“I uh,” you dropped your hand as you stood up from your position of leaning against the hood of the cart. “I mean they get to travel ya know?” You placed a hand on your hip and used the other one to motion towards the course in front of you causing Niall to look around a bit before his gaze landed back on you with the same confused look.

“They get ta travel?” You rolled your eyes and slid a hand over your face, this had to top the list of the most stupidest things you’ve ever said before and judging by Niall’s face he’d probably agree. He took a step closer to you as you looked everywhere but his face trying to figure out how you were going to save yourself from this situation.

“Yeah! they get to see lots of places, like you have some in your bag and they get to uh go,” you finally gave in and looked at him and when you saw a small smirk slowly appearing on his face you felt your face get hot. “They get to go wherever you do, so uhm yeah. Travel.” You finished explaining as Niall now stood right in front of you.

“Now What was dat about me hands?” You let out a defeated sigh causing Niall to chuckle as he reached over and placed his hand on your bare arm. “S’mthing about being soft but rough?” You turned your head and looked at his hand as it moved up and down your arm causing goosebumps to form.

“I uhm,” you swallowed hard before turning to look at him, “was right. Feels nice.” You watched him smile softly at you before he pulled his hand away causing a slight pout to form on your face only making Niall laugh as he shook his head while he turned and headed back to the tee. You let out a deep breath and placed a hand on your head as you leaned back against the cart for support, you felt your heart beating fast as you looked over at Niall who was lining up his shoulders and knees getting ready to swing.

“Not me best,” You just shrugged as he handed you his club. “but i was a bit distracted.” You rolled your eyes as he shot you a wink before getting into the cart.

“Ah the final hole.” You took in a breath through your nose as a smile took over your face while Niall just watched you with a curious look on his face. “Smells like a day well spent.” You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself as you looked and saw Niall fighting back a laugh of his own.

“Yer full of shit.” You just flipped him the bird as you handed him his club. He chuckled as he made his way down to where he was going to set up his final tee. You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked around and noticed that for such a nice day the course was pretty empty.

“Where the hell is everyone?” You questioned as you looked behind you to see if you could see another cart coming down the path. You heard a loud groan causing you to snap your head back only to see Niall glaring at you instantly letting you know that your little outburst was poorly planned.

“M’gonna have me shittiest game on record cos of you and dat mouth of yers.” You looked and noticed that the ball was off the tee but only maybe a foot away causing you to slap a hand over your mouth to hold back your laughter. “Yup laugh it up, dis is right embarrassin. I have a bloody gold management company and i can’t even manage ta get the ball more dan a foot off da tee.” You just shook your head as Niall walked over to the ball and got lined up so he could properly hit it and get it further down the fairway.

“Golf management company? Impressive.” You walked down to him and looked as the ball landed near the putting green. “Would ya look at that, it’s like you know what you’re doing or something. Only took you 17 holes.” You joked making Niall just glare at you before a small smile took over his face.

“Least i know da difference between a putter and a nine iron.” You dropped your mouth open as you placed your hands on your hips while looking at him with a phony shocked expression making him chuckle.

“Fuck off, I know my clubs i was just distracted because there was a bug in my hair.” You lied causing Niall’s face turn bright red as a loud laugh escaped his mouth as he tilted his head back. “You’re an ass, hope I never have to caddy for you again.” You mumbled as you snatched the club out of his hand and turned to head back to the cart.

“Oh come on love, both know ya wish you could be me permanent caddy.” You just scoffed at him as you placed the club back in the bag while Niall jogged over to the cart. You felt a hand on your hip making you jump slightly only causing Niall to let out a breathy laugh.

“You couldn’t afford me.” You snapped as you turned around so you could face him, his hand still on your hip. You looked up at him only to notice his eyes were already focused on you, he started leaning in closer to you making your hand come up and land flat against his chest pausing his movements for a moment. He looked at you with questioning eyes making you just slide your hand up his chest to the side of his neck. Niall took that as the answer to his silent question and quickly closed the space between the two of you so he could capture your lips in a gentle kiss.

You felt his hand move from your hip to your lower back pulling you closer to him as both of your arms found their way around his neck. You knew that what you were doing was against every rule but at the moment all you cared about was the feeling of Niall’s hands roaming your body as he pushed you up against the cart. When he finally pulled away you couldn’t help but let out a sad noise making him chuckle as he placed a hand on the side of your face cupping your cheek.

“Yer right, i can’t afford ya.” you just rolled your eyes before he leaned in and placed a quick kiss to your lips. “My game is gonna plummet wit you as me caddy, but good ting dis isn’t the job dat really pays me bills.” You couldn’t help but smile as he pulled away from you.

“Your game wasn’t that good to begin with.” You teased making him just laugh as he shook his head at you. You had decided in that moment that if all you got to hear for the rest of your life was the sound of Niall laughing at something stupid you said then you’d be completely content. You bit down on your bottom lip as Niall dropped his hands from your body and walked around to the passenger side of the cart.

“Figured I’d let ya drive,” You smiled as you slid into the driver’s seat and put the cart into reverse. “Since dis is the last time you’ll be a caddy for dis course.” You saw a smile form on his face out of the corner of your eye, you couldn’t help but laugh as you drove him closer to where his ball landed near the putting green.

“You always hire strangers you meet on golf courses?” You asked as you put the cart in park. Niall just looked at you with a smile before getting out of the cart and heading for his golf bag.

“Only the ones dat get jealous of golfballs coz they get ta feel me hands on em.” You glared at him as he shot you a wink over his shoulder on his way down to where his ball was, you knew for a fact you’d never live that moment down. You leaned against the sterling wheel with your elbow as you placed your hand against your cheek as you watched him set himself up for the shot so he’d get onto the green. You felt your elbow slip and your eyes went wide as the sound of the horn hit your ears.

“Bloody hell!” You watched Niall jump out of surprise causing him to drop his club and unintentionally move the ball further away from the green.

“Sorry boss!” You shouted making him shoot you a glare as he bent down to pick up his club. You sat up straight and made a show of not touching the steering wheel when Niall looked at you over his shoulder before turning and swinging his arms back just a bit so he could gently hit the ball onto the green. He made it into the hole in one shot making you smile and clap you hands while he just laughed and shook his head while putting his club back into his bag.

You all of a sudden felt your shoulder being shaken and your name being called causing you to let out a groan before you opened your eyes. You blinked a few times before you looked around and when you didn’t see a pair of icy blue eyes staring at you it all fell into place, you had dreamed it. Of course it was a dream, why the hell would Niall Horan hire you as a caddy when you caused him to play his worst game on record.

“What have i told you about sleeping on the job?” You quickly sat up and took your feet off the table that was in the break room. “Your golfer is here, been waiting for you about ten minutes now.” You stood up and swiped the drool off the side of your mouth as your boss just shook his head at you and let out a loud sigh.

“Shit, I’m sorry. What’s the name?” You asked as you slid your cap further on your head and grabbed your water bottle off the table frowning when you felt it had now become warm due to the sun beating into the break room through the windows.

“His name is Niall,” You felt your whole body freeze as the name slipped out of your boss’s mouth. “Last name Horan, he’s waiting for you by your cart.” You just nodded your head as you headed for the door and let out a deep sigh as you ran a hand down your face, of course it was Niall.

“Right, knew that!” You answer quickly before rushing out of the break room and towards your cart where you find Niall tapping away on his phone with an annoyed expression on his face.

“So sorry to keep you waiting,” his head pops up and when he sees you his eyes go a bit wide as his head tilts to the side. “Let’s get going.” You ignored his weird look as you slid into the passenger side of the cart.

“Uh m’not sure I should do da driving.” You felt your cheeks get red, of course only in your dream did he want to drive. This was real life Niall not the one you conjured up in your imagination. “Don’t really know tha way and all, never been here before.” You just quickly slide over so now you’re in the driver’s seat.

“Sorry, my head isn’t on straight today.” You explained as he took the seat next to you. He looked at you with a confused expression and you just put the cart in drive and headed for the first hole.

“Have we met before?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his question making him just raise an eyebrow at you.

“Only in my dreams.” You mumbled as you brought the cart to a slow stop, you watched him give you a confused look before getting out of the cart and heading for his golf bag. You let out a sigh as you closed your eyes, today was going to be a long one.

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