#is that movie missing a good two thirds of the point of the brick? Absolutely. But it holds by being spiritually to me The valvert movie

[anglerflsh]

Back on redrawing frames from the '78 movie

[bnha-free-writing]

Uncertain

Hi guys! I hope you enjoy this fluff piece! Special thanks to @shoutodoki​ and @burnedbyshoto​ for allowing me to tag them in this piece! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoy your works!

Pairing: Shoto x Reader

Warnings: Fluff ahead! (Some angst too...)

Word Count:  5.3k

Rated: E for Everyone (Like Shouto's hands)

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Key:

(Y/N) - Reader’s name

(L/N) - Reader’s last name

(s/t) - Skin tone

(h/l) - Hair length

(h/t) - Hair texture/type

(h/c) - Hair color

(e/c) - Eye color

(Y/H/N) - Reader’s Hero Name

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When Shoto Todoroki first began his education at U.A., he never thought that he would make any friends. His goal had been simply to become the best hero. There was absolutely no plan of making friends. And he definitely wasn’t looking to find love.

But apparently, fate had other things in mind. In his three years at U.A., he met so many people, made some close friends, but none closer than (Y/N) (L/N). The girl that kept him anchored to the ground when things got rough. When his father was involved in a tough battle on TV, (Y/N) had held him in a reassuring hug until the fight ended. When training led to injury, she was the first to help him to Recovery Girl. 

It hadn’t been an immediate friendship. She had started out their first year by making friends with Ochako Uraraka and Tsuyu Asui. He was so wrapped up in his goals that it took over a week before he finally noticed her. But then, one day in class, he got a paper cut. He had winced and out of the corner of his hetero-chromatic eyes, he watched as a bandage was slid onto the edge of his desk. He looked over at the (h/c) girl in confusion. She had been sitting right beside him and all she did was offer a soft smile before returning to taking notes.

After that, she would occasionally sit across from him at lunch. He was sitting alone at the time, curious as to why she would abandon her friends twice a week to start up small talk with him. But she was persistent and eventually, he had gotten used to her presence. 

“Why are you here,” he had finally asked aloud. 

“I want to be a hero, silly,” she had replied, confusion clear on her features.

���No, I mean why are you sitting here with me.”

“You looked lonely and I think you need a friend. It’s that simple,” she beamed.

After that, their lunch for that day fell into silence. He didn’t understand. 

At the Sports Festival, she put up a hell of a fight. Her quirk might not have been the strongest, but she fought hard to earn her place. With that, she had earned his respect.

After that, their conversations became more frequent. Then, it was him joining her at Uraraka and Midoriya’s table. No longer was she abandoning her friend group, because slowly but surely he became a part of it.

By second year, there were frequent movie nights, the girl showing him her favorite movies, a kind of enjoyment his father never would have allowed. They would sit on the edge of her bed sharing laughter and (though he would never admit it) occasional tears. She introduced him to kinds of joy that he never thought possible. 

Some days, it was enough to just sit on opposite sides of the room in comfortable silence. She would be curled up on her bean bag chair, sketching, while he would sit on her bed, working his way through her personal library. Other days it was laughter and talking as she taught him how to cook. She would joke that it was ironic because, despite having a fire quirk, he was a bit clueless in the kitchen. 

She was a relaxing figure in his life, one of the kindest people he had ever met. Despite the fact that he could be rather cold and socially oblivious, she understood him. She was his best friend. But about halfway through their third year at U.A., something changed. It was a slow change, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad one. 

It started with a moment, just a moment, where he saw her sitting at the foot of the stairs outside of Heights Alliance, waiting for him to come back from shopping for the supplies for the dorm. She was reading a book, the sun shining on her (s/t) skin, the wind blowing through her (h/l), (h/t) (h/c) locks, her soft, (e/c) orbs focused on the page in front of her. He found himself stopping, admiring the way she bit her bottom lip and her eyebrows knitted together as she focused. For that one moment, he found his mind going blank. 

The only thought his mind could process was, ‘She’s beautiful.’

And as suddenly as it started, it drifted away the second she noticed his arrival and called his name.

After that, it was downhill from there. When she would grab his wrist to drag him to lunch like she did every day, his heart would race and his cheeks would warm. She was suddenly in his dreams, her radiant smile filling his thoughts. He found himself getting lost in thought every time their eyes would meet.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t wrap his head around why he felt this way. They had been friends long enough that he couldn’t think of why he was feeling this way. He tried to Google these feelings, but heart racing and sweaty palms only brought up the results of ‘cancer.’

He was pretty sure that he was not dying, yet he was still unsure of what was wrong. For weeks, these feelings had been taunting him, her smile invading his thoughts, his dreams, everything. At one point, he had a dream about her that made his quirk activate in his sleep. He wound up waking up in the middle of the night to the sprinklers going off, aggravating his classmates. While the rest were angry, she had been hell-bent on ensuring that he was okay. 

 It wasn’t until they were watching a movie with the rest of the class (even Bakugo) in the common area that he finally got a clue. She was squished between himself and Bakugo, when about halfway through the movie he felt a sudden weight on his left shoulder. He looked down to see her head resting on his shoulder, her breathing even as she slept peacefully. He smiled softly, resting his own head against hers.

“Awww,” he heard the soft coo of Uraraka, followed by soft whispers.

He attempted to drown out their voices when he heard Ashido whisper, “They’re so cute together. When are Todoroki and (L/N) gonna finally admit that they’re in loooove?”

His hetero-chromatic eyes shot open as Ashido’s words processed in his brain. The pinkette had never been very good at being quiet, but for once he was grateful. 

He thought, ‘Is that what this is?’ as his heart beat became nearly deafening in his ears. 

Shortly after the movie finished, Todoroki lifted (Y/N) into his arms, taking her to her dorm room. Her eyes fluttered as she slept peacefully in his arms. Once he got her to her dorm, he laid her on the bed, carefully covering her with a blanket. It took all of his self control to leave, rather than holding her in his arms through the night.

The next day was no better. Now that he knew what this feeling was, her very existence made him flustered, though he hid it quite well. He was constantly fighting to keep his eyes off of her. 

The more time that went by, the more Todoroki was terrified that it would get to the point that he would miss out on any chance he had with her. As a third year student, she had plenty of exposure as a hero in training. She already had several fan sites, seeing as she worked under the Pro Hero, Edgeshot. He wasn’t oblivious to her popularity and unlike himself, she was very good with her fans.

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

It was a rare event to have Endeavor and Edgeshot’s agencies team up, yet Todoroki found himself fighting back to back with (Y/N) against a large group of thugs. Their mentors had delegated the two of them to the low level goons while the two of them raced ahead to take on the main boss, Terminator. While their opponents’ fighting was erratic, the two of them fought nearly completely synchronized. Within minutes, they were down to a few opponents. 

Once they were done with the low level thugs, the two of them were quick to join their mentors against the big boss. The man had a powerful quirk, and had four higher ranking members of his crew to play guard. It wasn’t an easy fight, but the second (Y/N) had taken down two of the higher ranking members, the boss had slightly nodded his head in her direction.

Nobody saw it coming, as a fifth underling had been hiding in the rafters, awaiting for when she was signaled for. As (Y/N) turned to help Todoroki, the fifth underling dropped down behind her, undetected until she slammed (Y/N) into a wall, knocking her unconscious as her head smacked against the scarlet brick wall. 

The vibrations of the impact drew the attention of Todoroki and the two Pro Heroes. Todoroki’s hetero-chromatic orbs widened, and before either of his opponents could register what was going on, he had them frozen solid from the neck down. 

He immediately turned his focus solely upon the woman that had caused (Y/N)’s injury. The woman had a quirk that allowed her to be as strong as five men, and she was fast on her own. The woman charged at Todoroki, but he was quick to use his ice to slip away, simultaneously knocking the woman off balance. As she slipped around on the ice, struggling to regain her footing, he used this time to his advantage, freezing her much like he had done with her cohorts. 

As soon as he was done with her, he turned his attention to Endeavor and Edgeshot, who were restraining the boss. 

“Shoto! Go check on (Y/H/N),” Edgeshot shouted.

Todoroki quickly moved to (Y/N)’s side, her body still as he checked her pulse. It was faint and he knew he couldn’t move her without the possibility of causing more damage. Blood was dripping from the back of her head, her body looked paler, and all he could do was stare in shock.

He could barely process a thing as the paramedics arrived, moving her onto a gurney. Edgeshot rode along in the ambulance while Todoroki and Endeavor stayed behind and answered questions for the police. 

Once they were cleared, Todoroki made his way to the hospital, immediately finding himself in the waiting room. 

“She’s in surgery. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything,” Edgeshot promised. 

“Thank you, sir.”

The two of them sat for hours, their eyes completely trained on the operating room door. There were no words between them. Simply (Y/N)’s mentor and best friend, each sitting with a heavy feeling in the air between them.

With each passing hour without word on her condition, Todoroki steadily grew more anxious. Eventually, he even found himself pacing and that’s when Edgeshot stepped in, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Shoto, she is going to be alright. She’s a tough kid. I know she’s your friend. You’re all she talks about when we get the chance to talk. You guys are close. You of all people should know that she’s tougher than this. She’ll get through it, kid.”

“I know. I just… I don’t know what I can do.”

“You can’t change it. All you can do is be there for her.”

It was then that the doctor walked up to them, pulling Edgeshot aside. Once he returned to Todoroki’s side, he was quick to fill Todoroki in.

“So, there was mild head injury, which is what knocked her unconscious. They put her in surgery because one of her ribs broke and they needed to set it properly before they could call in Recovery Girl to speed up the healing process. However she wasn’t able to heal her completely. She’s going to stay here under observation for the rest of the week.”

“When can we see her,” Todoroki asked.

“She’s still asleep. Between the surgery and Recovery Girl’s treatment, she’s exhausted. They said one of us could sit with her, so long as we don’t disturb her rest. I’ll let you sit with her first.”

Todoroki simply nodded before heading over to the nurse so he could be escorted to her room. Once he arrived at her room, he quietly pulled up a chair to her bedside.

Her eyelids fluttered as she slept and he found himself letting out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He laid his head on the edge of her bed, allowing himself to truly relax for the first time in hours. His eyelids grew heavy as he drifted off to sleep, having found solace by her side. 

Todoroki woke to the morning sunlight peeking through the window. His eyes opened and he found himself looking up at (Y/N)’s resting face. Her eyelids fluttered as she slept, still in the same state she had been when he had drifted off. 

Why the doctors hadn’t woken him was beyond him, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain. It almost felt wrong to be sitting there, watching her sleep. Yet that was the least of his concerns. He wondered if she had woken yet at any point.

“You’re awake,” he heard from a voice behind him. He turned to see Edgeshot leaning against the door frame. “She hasn’t woken up yet. But I told them to let you stay.” 

“Have the doctors said anything?”

“Apparently her heart monitor has been steady, no complications.”

“That’s good,” Todoroki replied, letting out a sigh of relief.

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments before a light groan broke through the air.

“(Y/N),” Todoroki called softly, hoping to hear her sweet voice reply.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus,” (Y/N)’s voice croaks out.

The second he heard her voice, Todoroki whipped around, his hetero-chromatic orbs meeting her (e/c) ones. 

He had never thought he would be that happy to hear someone’s voice, yet there he was. To his ears, her voice was that of an angel calling him to heaven. There was nothing short of amazement in his eyes as he looked at her as though her body was made of gold and her (e/c) orbs were made of the rarest gems. This woman was his everything. 

His thoughts were broken as her scratchy voice pierced the air once more. “Sh-Shoto… Is there any way I could get a glass of water?”

“Of course, give me just a moment,” he replied before turning to the sink in her room and quickly pouring her a glass, his hands shaking. 

“Good to see you’re awake, kid. I’ll let Todoroki here talk you through what happened. I’ll call your parents to let them know you’re awake,” Edgeshot replied before leaving the room. 

Todoroki watched as (Y/N) carefully drank her water and he waited for her to finish drinking before he began to speak. “So what’s the last thing you remember?”

Her voice was soft as she replied, “I remember we were going into the main compound building and we got caught up fighting some higher level goons. I beat the two I was dealing with and then… I turned to help you. But I don’t remember anything after that.”

“Well, that’s good. You aren’t missing much time. Basically, there was another high level goon up in the rafters. She'd been hiding there, waiting for a signal. Detectives figured out that she was Terminator’s right hand. He must have given her a signal because she jumped down and tossed you into a wall… Apparently you were knocked unconscious on impact.”

“Your injuries weren’t too bad. Recovery Girl came in and healed you after they did surgery to set your broken rib. They just want to keep you under observation until Friday night to make sure that you are okay.”

(Y/N) simply nodded before she spoke, “Are you okay, Shoto?”

“You’re the one in a hospital bed and you’re asking me if I’m okay,” Todoroki replied, confusion clear on his features. 

“Todoroki… You look like you haven’t slept.”

He sat down in the chair beside her bed, looking down at his hands as a blush grew on his cheeks. “I… I actually slept right here. I never left here last night.”

Todoroki glanced up as he felt a light pressure applied to his head. (Y/N) had softly placed her hand on his head, lightly ruffling his hair. Their eyes met for only a second before she pulled her hand away and they both darted their eyes to their laps. 

“Hey guys, I figured you’d be hungry, so I brought some breakfast… And… Why do you two look like tomatoes,” Edgeshot spoke as he entered the room once more. 

Neither of the teens dared to speak a word as the Pro Hero rolled his eyes. 

Todoroki thought that spending the week without (Y/N) being in class would be difficult. But if anything, her absence made concentrating easier. He was writing down notes non-stop, making sure to cover every lesson in as much detail as possible, even comparing notes with Midoriya and Yaoyorozu during lunch to ensure that he hadn’t missed anything. 

“Why do you need to take such detailed notes all of a sudden,” Midoriya asked that Monday after school. 

His friends all looked at him expectantly as he admitted, “I don’t want (Y/N) to fall behind. So I’m going back to the hospital after school to help her with what she’s missing during class.”

“Awwww, that’s really sweet,” Uraraka cooed. “Can I ask you something, Todoroki?”

“Sure.”

“Todoroki, do you… Do you like (Y/N)? Whatever your answer, it’ll stay between the three of us. I just had to ask seeing as this is the only time I can really ask you without risking her popping up.”

Todoroki looked at Midoriya and Uraraka for a single moment, taking a deep breath before shakily replying, “I… I guess.”

“Todoroki, it’s nothing to be ashamed of! She makes you happy!”

“You should tell her, Todoroki,” Midoriya advises.

“Yes,” Uraraka cheers. 

“Well, right now, I have to leave to get these notes to her,” he spoke as he looked at his watch. “I don’t want to miss the train.”

“Bye Todoroki,” Uraraka and Midoriya chorus.

He found himself practically racing to the hospital. When he finally got there, he was surprised to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, looking out the window. 

“Hey, (Y/N),” Todoroki spoke slowly, hoping to not startle her.

She turned around slowly, a grin on her face as she spoke, “Shoto! You came! I’m glad. I was worried you wouldn’t have time.”

Though he wouldn’t say it aloud, he knew if it meant seeing her, he would have blown off any assignment. “I told you I’d be here,” he retorted, as he sat down beside her.

“I know,” she replied as she wrapped her arms around him.

As soon as she pulled away from the hug, he pulled out the notes he had worked so hard on all day.

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

After a particularly long training session on Friday afternoon, the only thing Todoroki wanted was a shower. He wasn’t to go visit (Y/N) that day because she was to be released and picked up by Edgeshot that evening. So he had spent his few free hours after school training hard with Midoriya, Bakugo, and Iida. 

But when the doors to Heights Alliance opened up, his eyes immediately fell on a figure with (h/c) locks surrounded by her friends. She was dressed in her favorite sweatpants and an All Might T-shirt, looking as stunning as ever. Her (e/c) eyes shined with joy as Uraraka filled her in on what she’s missed throughout the week.

“I missed being here so much,” (Y/N confessed, a pout on her lips. 

“Ribbit. We missed you too,” Asui croaked. “Hey, it’s Todoroki.”

(Y/N) looked up from her group of friends and gave him a beaming grin before greeting, “Hey Shoto! Surprise! I got out a couple of hours early! I told Edgeshot if I didn’t get out soon, I’d lose it! So he talked it over with the doctor and they let me out like an hour before classes let out!”

Todoroki couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at her antics. 

“Hey, I got tickets for a movie and I got permission for eight of us to go,” Yaoyorozu offered as she approached, a skip in her step.

“That’s great,” Todoroki commented. 

“So, I was thinking Todoroki, (Y/N), Uraraka, Midoriya, Tsu, Iida, Kyoka, and myself. We can go tomorrow night, assuming you’re all willing to go! Iida, Midoriya, and Kyoka have already agreed, so...”

“I’ll definitely go,” Uraraka chimed.

“I’d love to! Thanks, Momo,” (Y/N) added, nodding exuberantly.

“Sounds like fun,” Tsu croaks, a smile on her features.

Todoroki found the rest of them looking at him expectantly, waiting for his response. He finally nodded, a small smile on his features. 

The next night came quickly and he found himself in awe as Uraraka practically pushed a nearly shy (Y/N) out of the elevator. Her soft, (h/c) locks were pinned back out of her face, her big (e/c) eyes were framed with light makeup and her lips lightly glossed. Her frame was covered by a plain, light blue sundress, a pair of simple flats on her feet. 

Uraraka led (Y/N) to his side, practically skipping as she cheered out, “Todoroki! (Y/N) looks super cute, right?”

Todoroki’s eyes widened, not expecting the sudden question. He had literally just been stuck on thinking about how beautiful she looked, yet when it comes down to vocalizing, he finds himself at a loss.

“Ochako, leave him alone,” (Y/N) whispers, her eyes glued to her shoes.

Todoroki felt his heart drop at the sight of the crestfallen expression on her face. He felt as though he was choking on his words, despite a part of him wanting to scream from the rooftops, announcing her beauty to the world. Yet there he stood, his mouth opening and closing in a fish-like fashion, feeling like a fool.

Finally after what felt like hours, he managed to mutter out, “You… You look cute, (Y/N).”

Her head shot up, her (e/c) orbs wide with surprise, a flush on her cheeks, and a small smile on her face. 

Finally, Iida comes speeding in, “The movie starts in twenty-five minutes! We should leave immediately to ensure that we are not tardy! It would be unbecoming of esteemed U.A. students to be late!”

Soon enough, the group arrived at the theater, each of them having time to grab their drinks and popcorn. Yaoyorozu was the first to be seated, followed by Jiro, Midoriya, Uraraka, Iida, Tsu, (Y/N), and finally Todoroki at the end. 

The title screen seemed innocent enough until the blood started dripping from the words on the screen. It was a horror movie and with every jump-scare, Todoroki watched as (Y/N) jumped and shook more and more. Her hands were tightly clutching the sides of the seat, the white of her knuckles showing through. 

Finally, as tears started to prick at her eyes, Todoroki couldn’t watch her like that anymore. He carefully placed one of his hands on her own, immediately gaining her attention as she jerked her head to face him. In that moment, her eyes widened and she threw herself into his arms, crying. At first he was surprised, but as soon as she clutched his shirt, he pulled her into his lap, lightly stroking her (h/c) locks as she shook in his arms. He rested his head atop her own and the hand that wasn’t stroking her hair began to rub slow, calming circles on her back until she fell asleep in his arms.

Once the movie was over, he found himself stirring (Y/N) from her sleep. As he led her sleepy form out of the theater, his arm sling around her protectively, she stayed groggily clung to his shirt. Even on the loud, crowded subway, she didn’t move out from under his arm. 

Once the group made their way to the dorms, they were met by the few members of their class that were still awake. Shoto looked down at her, to see her eyes still half open. 

Mina was the first to address the pair, “Awww she looks so tired!”

“I forgot to tell everyone that it was a horror movie. (Y/N) didn’t take it well,” Yaoyorozu admitted, nervously twiddling her thumbs. Turning to (Y/N) she pleads, “I really hope you’re not upset with me.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep,” (Y/N) sleepily mumbles, before attempting to take a step on her own. When the girl practically fell over, Todoroki was quick to catch her and resume their previous stance. 

“I’m going to take her up,” he muttered, carefully leading her towards the elevator. 

The rest of their class bode them good night as the two disappeared into the elevator, the (h/c) girl still nuzzled into Todoroki’s side. 

“Sh-Shoto,” her voice stuttered out, so faintly that he almost missed it. 

Luckily he hadn’t, because the second he looked down at her, his heart skipped a beat. She had the cutest expression on her face, her lips slightly parted, her tired eyes looking up at him through her lashes, and a faint pink to her cheeks.

He didn’t know what to expect as she hesitantly raised her hand to cup his face. He was too shocked to move, allowing her to lightly run her thumb over his cheek, just below his scar. Her other hand was still clutched to the back of his shirt, her cheeks darkening as their eyes refused to break contact. 

She was too close. He could smell her skin, he could see flecks in her (e/c) orbs, he could practically count her eyelashes. His heart was pounding in his ears, his body unable to move in fear of losing control of himself.

She was exhausted. He shouldn’t be letting this happen, he thought. But a small, selfish part of him wanted to stay like this forever. Her body pressed against him, their eyes locked on one another, and the soft touch of her hand on his face.

She was the first to break eye contact, a sad smile taking its place on her features as the elevator opened.

His eyes widened as she removed her hand from his face and they walked to her room in silence, as though nothing had happened. She unlocked the door and he walked her to her bed.

It was then that he got a good look at her face. The moonlight shone through her window, highlighting the silent tears that were streaming down her cheeks. 

“Why are you crying,” he whispered.

“I shouldn’t have done that… In the elevator… I’m sorry, Shoto,” she spoke softly, her sentence broken up by soft sobs. “I don’t want you to hate me… I… I just…”

Her voice broke into nothing but soft sobs. 

He took a seat on the edge of her bed, sitting beside her as he pulled her into his arms. 

“I… I could never hate you,” he whispered.

For the second time that night, he held her as she cried herself to sleep in his arms. 

He didn’t know what to do. He had never been good at expressing his emotions, but, damn, this was a new low for him. He didn’t know why she was sorry for what was just about the best moment of his life. He was just glad that it was a Saturday night, because at this rate he wasn’t sleeping. 

He wasn’t sure of anything. 

Was she sorry because he froze and she thought he didn’t like it?

Or was she sorry because she knew how he felt and she used that moment to decide that she didn’t feel the same?

But for right now, he was holding her in his arms and, even if this would be the last time it happened, it was enough for him. With his arms still wrapped tightly around her, he laid back, resting his head on the pillow behind them.

When Todoroki woke in the morning, he found himself looking down at (Y/N)’s sleeping form once more. Her eyes were red and puffy from her tears she had shed the night before but what surprised him most was that it appeared that at some point, she had gotten up and changed into pajamas, yet climbed back into bed beside him. 

As she laid there, snuggled into his chest, he brushed a lock of hair from her face. It was another one of those moments where all he desired was to freeze time. 

But as the light filtered through the window, her eyes scrunched together and she began to stir. 

Her eyes fluttered open, looking up at him almost immediately. She smiled softly for a moment, before her eyes widened.

“Shoto, what are you doing here,” she asked slowly, as though she wasn’t sure if she wanted the answer.

“You had a rough night last night. I got you safely to your room and you started crying. So I guess I fell asleep comforting you.”

“I was really hoping that the part that made me cry was a bad dream,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to stay, Shoto.”

“Why are you sorry,” he inquired, not moving from his spot.

“I… I tried to make a move on you? You didn’t like it,” she admitted, looking down at her hands.

“(Y/N), look at me please,” he requested.

When she peeked up at him through her eyelashes, he took her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger bringing her up to face him properly. His other hand gently brushed over her cheek, much like she had done to him the night before. 

“I tried to tell you last night. I could never hate you. I liked it... I was surprised. And you weren’t in the right condition for me to give in, even if I was sure that you’d meant it,” he admitted softly.

There was a moment of silence between them before she let out a giggle.

“I was so scared. I was terrified that you didn’t like me back,” she confessed. “I’m an idiot!”

“We were both scared,” he corrected, feeling his cheeks grow warmer. “I thought that when you got injured… I’d never get the chance to tell you.”

“Shoto,” she whispered as she placed her hand over the one that was still absentmindedly stroking the side of her face. “Please, just kiss me.”

His heart jumped into his throat as he carefully moved closer, half expecting to wake up, finding this to be yet another dream. Yet, she closed the small space between them for a soft, hesitant kiss. 

His heart was pounding, every cell of his body felt like it was on fire, yet his mind had never been so at ease. When they finally pulled apart, their faces were flushed, a small, dopey grin on each of their faces.

He leaned down to give her a chaste kiss before pulling her into his chest, muttering, “I’m not ready to get out of bed yet.”

With a small yawn, she nuzzled into his chest, pulling a blanket over the two of them as she replied with a light giggle, “You read my mind.”

[drarrywords]

"Say it again. Say it again and I swear, I'll never stop you"

A Drarry prompt by @jooncookie and @drarrywords

"Could you make me a cup of tea, darling?" That was whispered with a soft eskimo kiss from Harry.

"Draco, baby, have you seen my hoodie? The red one you were wearing yesterday? I swear I'd left it right here but now it's gone!" Yelled out from the bedroom while Draco was in said hoodie.

"Sweetheart, let me do it, you'll end up burning the pan." This was delivered with a soft kiss on Draco's cheek and Harry being indignantly shoved away from the stove.

"Hey angel, I've missed you. Work was a magnificent pain in the arse today. You have no idea how glad I am to finally see you again." Uttered while Harry had his arms wrapped around Draco's waist from behind, face hidden in the crook of his neck.

"Don't you think you've brewed enough potions for the day? Come to bed, baby." This was mumbled against Draco's lips after Harry had pulled him away from his cauldron.

"Darling, you know that distracting me with a kiss still counts as cheating, right?" Followed by a fondly exasperated laugh when Draco simply shrugged and acted like he had no clue what Harry was on about.

And they continued their game of poker.

"Honestly, love, you should've seen the look on his face; poor bloke was shitting bricks." Gasped out by Harry between wheezes and Draco was laughing along just as hard.

His wheezes simmered down to giggles while watching Draco, having the ability to make his angel laugh uncontrollably without any inhibitions would still be one of Harry's proudest achievements.

"That's literally your fourth cup of coffee, sweetcheeks. At this point, you're not finding sleep tonight." Spoken with an endeared undertone as Harry pries the coffee mug out of Draco's hands, ignoring his protests and replacing them with his own instead, clasping the warm hands with a gentle yet firm grip.

Lifting Draco's hands to his lips, Harry places little pecks all over them until he spots that familiar coat of baby pink settle on Draco's cheeks, darkening by the second.

Harry smiles cheekily while Draco rolls his eyes dramatically–still flustered.

"You're such a sap, Potter. Honestly, 'sweetcheeks'? Really? I don't know where you got that one from but if you know me at all, you'd know I'm every bit salty and bitter," Draco scowls out, definitely not blushing.

Completely undeterred, Harry laughs heartily and leans forward to rub his cheek against Draco's before biting it, earning him a squawk of annoyance.

Draco mutters something that sounds a lot like "uncivilised brute" but Harry chooses to ignore it as he goes on.

"Nonsense. You're the sweetest and most precious little thing ever. Salty and bitter my arse, you're my delicious boyfriend, aren't you?"

Punctuating his words by squishing Draco's cheeks and making him pucker his lips, placing a chaste kiss on them.

That earns him a punch on the arm from Draco–a hard one at that. And he drops his hands, cackling and totally unbothered by the icy glare directed at him.

"Your endearments are absolutely absurd, Potter," Draco frowns at him for good measure, "And I'll have you know I detest them."

Harry smiled in that dopey way Ron always calls him out for, complaining he looks lovesick, "Oh do you now, baby."

"Very much so," Draco sneers but it loses most of its effectiveness because of the blush still staining his cheeks.

We both know that's a lie, darling.

"Alright then."

Harry watches as Draco blinks. The response evidently having caught him off guard as though he was expecting a bit more argument.

He smiles inwardly and with an air of indifference, abruptly changes the topic, "Want to watch a movie? There's one I've been dying to watch and I think you'll like it too."

He bites his lip to keep himself from grinning as Draco furrows his brows and nods distractedly, going along with the change of topic.

As they're cuddling on the sofa, Harry nuzzles his face into Draco's hair to hide his shit-eating grin.

Two can play at this game, sweet one. It's on.

*

“Malfoy, will you get me a cup of tea?” Harry was skimming through one of the files on the bed, with a scowl on his face. He glanced at Draco briefly, with an apologetic grin. “I’m tired.”

Draco gave him a soft nod, and placed the book on the side-table and walked into the kitchen. He mused through the kitchen cabinets, and set out a cup and saucer. He closed his eyes, frowning in confusion. Harry must’ve been insanely distracted or he wouldn’t have called him ‘Malfoy’.

He poured the tea into the cup and with a faint smile, he walked into the bedroom. “Here, Potter. You should get some rest. It’s your third cup of tea.”

“I know,” He said, as he sipped the warm beverage. “Thank you, Draco.”

Draco stared at him; the confusion evident on his face. Harry would always use a pet name, and give him a kiss. At least one. “Is everything alright, Harry?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, a faint smile on his face. “Are you? You’ve been staring at me as if I announced that I’m one of the avengers.”

“You could be,” Draco chuckled, with a slight shake to his head and gazed at him fondly. “If they were real, and I wouldn’t even be mildly surprised, Potter.”

“True,” He said, closing the files and placing it on the side as he leaned in to place a chaste kiss on his lips. Only a brush of lips. “Night, Malfoy.”

And it left a note (Or a symphony) of curiosity in the air. Harry always used those sappy endearments, and he secretly loved those. He didn’t understand the sudden change in his behaviour. “Harry, love, are you sure that everything is alright?”

Harry was snoring, curled onto one side. Draco smiled at him softly, removing the glasses, and brushing the strands of hair out of his face as he kissed his forehead. “Good night, Harry.”

In the morning, he woke up to the sound of Harry humming softly as he buttoned his shirt. He carded his fingers through his hair, in order to tame them �� A useless effort.

“Good morning, mon ange.”

Harry turned, a warm smile grazing his lips. He walked over to Draco, and kissed him on the cheek. And it made Draco’s heart flutter in his chest wildly. “Morning, Malfoy”

No ‘Good morning, sunshine – I love you.’? He couldn’t even recall if he’d done anything wrong. He didn’t suppose that Harry was being an arse on purpose.

He let it slide.

It was bothering him, and he was morose at work. He hadn’t said anything to offend Harry, had he? He wanted to be called by the sappiest names – He fucking missed them. A lot.

At night, as he walked into the room, he directed an icy glare at Harry. Sadly, he was immune to the death glares and threats alike. “Why are you staring, Malfoy?”

“You – fuck you, Potter – You never call me Malfoy.”

He shrugged dismissively, turning the page of the novel he had been reading. His nose scrunched up, as he marked the page and set the book aside.

“You didn’t use any of the sappy endearments for once today.”

“I know.”

He was growing a lot more frustrated than he had been. Harry hadn’t used even one of the pet names since yesterday. Not a single pet name. “Are you mad at me, Potter? If you are, I’m sorry –

“I’m not, Malfoy.”

“Why – No, you are – Why aren’t you using any of those stupid names you always do?”

Another shrug.

“Harry.” He said, the desperation in his voice growing. He wanted to be called by those names. Not ‘Draco’ or ‘Malfoy’. Fuck. He’d have even take ‘sweet cheeks’ right then.

“Can you get me a cup of tea,” Harry said, a smirk on his face and a glint in his eyes. “Darling?”

Draco’s stared at him, the widest grin on his face and he didn’t even care to supress it. He couldn’t even be bothered to – Because he had missed this so much. “Say it again.”

“Darling.”

Draco crawled onto the bed, and kissed him softly. “I love you. I fucking love you – Say it again. Say it all again, and I swear I’ll never stop you.”

And so, he did.

He whispered all of the ‘sappy endearments’ as Draco fell asleep with his head on Harry’s shoulder, a soft smile on his face.

[epochofbelief]

Breath Control, Chapter Six

An A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU

All characters belong to SJ Maas!

Feysand.

Warnings: mature content, cursing

Let me know if you want to be tagged:)

Enjoy! 

SIX

We pulled up outside the family house--an enormous, Colonial-style building, complete with six bedrooms, too many bathrooms to count, an enormous kitchen, and several living areas. My father had purchased it as soon as his business had started flourishing again in the middle of last year. I’d never understood why he’d bought such a large home for himself alone. I figured it was something about overtly displaying just how much wealth he’d regained to everyone in our home town. I didn’t concern myself with it too much; I’d never actually lived in the house anyway.

Nesta had for a few months before she’d moved down to Prythian to live near me and Elain. I’m pretty sure she’d lived on the opposite side of the house from my father to avoid running into him as much as possible until she’d saved enough money from her flight attendant job to get a place of her own. . . Out of the three of us, Nesta got along with my dad the least. 

Rhys charmed Elain instantly, asking her questions about her baking, her gardening, her nursing classes. He skillfully avoided all talk of significant others, for which I was grateful, and by the end of the car ride Elain was half in love with him.

Elain hopped out of the car as soon as she pulled onto the enormous bricked driveway. I remained inside with Rhys for a moment. I twisted around in the backseat to look at him. 

“Here is my final warning and disclaimer to you. I love Nesta, don’t get me wrong. But she will be a bitch to you. I don’t know how my father will act around. . .” I trailed off.

“Never brought a boy home, Feyre darling? I’ll try to pretend I’m not immensely flattered at the idea.”

Heat bloomed in my cheeks. “Of course I’ve brought boys home. You’re not that special.”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Archeron. Let’s go meet your family.” 

If I was being honest, his eagerness scared me a little.  I took a deep breath and followed him up the front walk, bags in tow. Elain burst into the house and I timidly followed her through the enormous entry way, painted a pleasant cream above the dark wood flooring. Past the staircase and to the right, we found my father and Nesta in the kitchen talking. 

More like arguing, They weren’t yelling, though, which was progress for those two.

“I don’t like you working as a flight attendant, Nesta. You got an engineering degree for a reason, you know.” 

“I don’t care. Working on planes is much more fun. I get to see new places during long layovers or overnight stays. So butt. Out. Dad.”

Elain cleared her throat. Realizing they now had company, they both shut up rather quickly. I was grateful. I wanted to spare Rhys from the family theatrics for as long as possible. Even if things had been better between all four of us for the past year or so. 

“Feyre!��� My dad exclaimed, unusually perky. It was probably for Rhys’s benefit.  He moved to hug me and I acquiesced, glancing at Nesta out of the corner of my eye. She shrugged.

“And you must be Rhysand. I have to say, I was quite surprised when Feyre told me she was bringing a boy home for Thanksgiving dinner who wasn’t Tamlin.” My cheeks were absolutely flaming at this point. I decided to stare at my shoes. 

Also, how could he mention Tamlin? He didn’t know a thing about our relationship except that we were broken up and I never wanted to speak of it again. Oblivious to all the embarrassment he was currently causing me, my father extended his hand to Rhys.

Rhys gripped it tightly, his crutch wedged underneath his arm.  I was pleased to see that his grip was firm. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Yes.” My father had suddenly become quite solemn.  “And what are you majoring in, Rhysand?” 

Oh dear.

“International Relations, sir.” 

“And what do you plan to do with that?”

And God bless him, Rhys didn’t miss a beat. “My father is an Operations Manager for a large global company. I plan to follow in his footsteps to manage a large company, particularly--”

I decided that that was enough. “Okay, Dad! I’m going to give Rhys a house tour. What time’s dinner?”

My father gave Rhys a look as though their conversation wasn’t over as I grabbed his arm and hustled him out of the kitchen.  

I forced Rhys up the stairs. “Oh my god. What right does he have to give my friends the first-degree as soon as he meets them? He didn’t try to parent me in high school, so why start now? It’s not like you’re my--”

“Boyfriend?” He smirked. “It was fine, Feyre. I know what I plan to do with my degree.”

“You shouldn’t have to answer to him.”

“Relax,” he said as he followed me up the second flight of stairs. “By the end of this week, your father will love me.”

He met me at the top of the stairs, seeing as I’d stormed up them and he’d had to carefully ease his way up with his boot and crutches. Barely a hand’s breadth between us, he stood with his back to the stairs as I stared up at him. 

“Why waste your time trying to make such a good impression?” I couldn’t take my eyes away from his face. I realized suddenly just how much taller than me he was.

“Consider it a long term investment.”

“Why invest in that?”

He edged around me and set off down one of the hallways. “Show me the house, Feyre darling. Isn’t that what we came up here to do?”

I could think of other things. The thought coalesced inside my mind, unbidden. I was the only one who lived on the third floor of this house. Those things I was thinking of doing . . . wouldn’t be difficult to accomplish here.

Nope. No, no, no. Not an option. 

But as I followed Rhys down the corridor, I couldn’t help. . . wondering what it would be like. Kissing him, touching him, calling him mine. . . 

“Archeron! You coming? I don’t actually know where I’m going.”

I puffed out my cheeks. Shit.

We worked our way through all the bedrooms and living rooms on the second floor and finally made it to the staircase that led to my room, alone on the third floor. It was quite a spacious room, actually, with an amazing attached bathroom. What I didn’t realize was how Rhys would get up the extremely narrow staircase. Technically, the third floor had been something like the servants’ quarters a hundred years ago, now remodeled and modernized. But the fact remained that the staircase was much too narrow for Rhys to get up with his crutches. 

“You don’t have to see my room. I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think about it,” I said, glancing down at his foot.

He set his crutches against the wall. “I’m seeing your room, Feyre,” he said confidently.

I raised my eyebrows. “Well, okay then. Do you want to go first?”

“I can walk perfectly fine, Feyre. Chill.” 

“Boys,” I muttered under my breath. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just get your ass up the stairs.”

“Bossy. I like a woman in charge.”

“Get your ass up the stairs, Rhysand!” 

He chuckled. And began his slow ascent. It wasn’t that he was weak, it was that his boot was big and clunky and he wasn’t technically supposed to put his weight on it very often, according to Madja. On the narrow staircase, maneuvering the boot would be difficult. But he made his way up, giving me an extremely convenient view of his ass through his jeans as he climbed. I followed him until we reached the top and then squeezed past him on the tiny landing.

“Prepare to be amazed. My father ensured I had the room of my dreams even though I’ve never truly lived here. Parental guilt for not really providing for me all through high school.” 

Rhys stood, arms crossed, waiting. 

I sighed. This felt strangely intimate. I’d never had a boy in my room before. I mean sure, Tamlin had visited my dorm a few times but because he was older we had almost always ended up at his place at night. And my room wasn’t really “lived in” seeing as I’d never lived in the house. But it was mine, and I’d gotten to choose all the decorations, all the pictures… everything. 

“Okay.” I turned the door handle and stepped briskly into my room, eager to get this over with. 

Rhys hobbled inside, his gaze floating over the white-covered, four poster bed pushed against the far wall, two large windows on either side. His gaze floated over the dark wood floors, covered by a gray rug under my bed and a pale blue one under the sitting area, complete with a fireplace, couch, and two arm plush grey armchairs. It floated over my bookshelf, filled with all the books I didn’t have room for in my townhouse back at school. And landed on the grey walls, covered with paintings.

Every one of them painted by me. 

There were landscapes, and abstracts, and a few canvases covered only with my favorite book or movie quotes.  

He stepped into the center of the room and halted, turning in place, staring at the paintings. “Did you paint all of these?”

I leaned against my door. “Yeah…” 

He kept looking. 

“That bad, huh?” 

He tore his gaze from the walls of my bedroom. “What? No. The exact opposite. This is--these are-- These are amazing, Feyre. I had no idea you were a painter.”

“I’ve sort of run out of time for it in college. Haven’t painted since. . .” I hadn’t really painted since Tamlin and I had gotten together. “Since the beginning of my freshman year. I miss it,” I said, and suddenly felt the urge to march downstairs and into the garage to retrieve all my old paint buckets, brushes, and the canvases that I knew were waiting for me. 

“Wow. I’d pay money for one of these. You have an incredible talent, Feyre.”  His eyes alighted on the painting hung above my fireplace. “Is that your mother?”

I nodded, smiling a little. “I painted it based off of a picture of her my dad has. She died before I really picked up the hobby. But that’s her.”

“She’s beautiful.”

I nodded and decided it was safe to enter the room. My paintings were a part of my soul. And I realized that if Rhys had looked at them and insulted them, or worse, just skated over their existence, I would have been crushed. Thank goodness he hadn’t. I collapsed onto my bed. I was suddenly exhausted from the morning practice that felt like it had been days ago and the following four hour drive spent with Rhys. He limped over and sat next to me as I stared up at the ceiling. 

“This is why you were so nervous to bring me up here?” He asked softly.

I nodded. 

“Anyone would be crazy not to be impressed by your art.”

“It was kind of a weird hobby to have in high school. I mostly kept it to myself. Not sure why the kids at my school thought painting in your spare time was weird.”

He was silent for a moment, as though debating what to say. Then-- “Well I, personally, find painting in your spare time to be hot.” 

I sat up, my face coming within inches of his. If I moved forward just a bit, my lips would meet his. 

“Incredibly hot,” he went on. 

It was almost as if my body was leaning forward of its own accord.

“In fact, it might be one of the hottest things I’ve ever heard.”

I rolled my eyes. “Now you’re just making things up.”

He smiled and I might have melted a little bit.

“Maybe.” I could feel his breath on my cheek. Minty. Was there anything about him that wasn’t perfect? 

I leaned closer. Consequences be damned. We were inches apart, so close my eyelids had fluttered closed, when--

“Feyre! Dinner!”

“Shit,” he whispered.

I swallowed. “We should go.”

He nodded. “Mmhm.”

I led him back across the landing and down the stairs. I’d reached the bottom step when he swore (again) and---

“Shit!” 

I almost felt him trip before he stumbled forward, and I whirled around, gripping his shoulders in an effort to steady him at the bottom of the stairs. His hands reached out and grabbed my waist as he regained his balance. 

“You good?” I asked, breathing more heavily than I should have been. Heat flared up and down my body from where his hands had set themselves around my middle. 

“Yeah. Sorry.” 

He still hadn’t let go. I didn’t want him to. 

“Dinner. We have to go eat dinner. Your father probably thinks I’m doing unspeakable things to you right now, Feyre darling.”

Heat flooded my cheeks again. “Right.” And shaking my head, I released his shoulders and as I walked down the stairs to the kitchen, I chided myself for my weakness, for the desire to kiss him that had been growing steadily all day, all week. 

------

Later that night, after a tense dinner with my father, I came downstairs after my shower to find Rhysand and my dad shouting at the television together. Prythian University’s men’s basketball team was on the screen, playing some school I’d never really heard of. Rhys and my father were berating the referees as I took a seat on the couch next to Rhys--a healthy two feet away from him.

Just to be sure.

“I didn’t realize either of you were so invested in college basketball…”

Rhys tore his eyes away from the screen to gape at me, openmouthed. “You go to Prythian and you don’t care about our basketball team? They were in the top four in the country last year.”

I shrugged. “I’m just not that into it.”

“I can’t believe I’m friends with you.” He placed a special emphasis on the word “friends.” I prayed my father didn’t notice his change of tone.

“Hey!”

My dad chimed in. “Can’t say I blame him, Feyre. Neglecting to educate you in team sports has been the biggest regret of my life.”

“Oh, please. You’re both making me feel like public enemy number one in my own house.” 

Rhys poked me in the side and I hissed, then settled back on the couch for the next hour as the pair of new-best-friends shouted and raged and cheered at the screen until, in double-overtime, Prythian won out. 

“Thank God that’s over,” I mumbled, although I was secretly happy Prythian had come out on top in the end.

“I’m dragging you to a basketball game when we get back to campus. Athletes get free tickets. You know that right?”

“Of course I know that.” Nevermind that I’d never used that particular advantage.

My dad stood up. “Well, kids, I’m headed to bed. Feyre, Rhys knows where his room is, right?” He gave me a look. Then bestowed another, different look, on Rhys.

“Yes, Dad. Good night.” I narrowed my eyes and he (thankfully) departed quickly. 

That left Rhys and me, alone in the dark living room. Nesta and Elain had gone off to bed hours ago.  An awkward silence ensued. 

“Well,” I stood. “I guess I should get to bed.”

Rhys followed suit. “Yep,” he said lamely. 

As he crutched after me toward the staircase, I spoke up, just to break the silence between us that hadn’t been there moments before. “I can’t believe how fast you charmed my father.”

He chuckled. “I hate to be so predictable, but I am a man and I do love televised sports.”

I sighed. “I’m not judging.”

We made it to the top of the stairs and I walked him to his room. He paused in the doorway. “I really am grateful though, despite your rather unfortunate lack of interest in sports. Grateful you invited me here.”

“What are teammates for?” I said, remembering what he’d asked me on that night a month ago. 

He smiled a little, as though remembering that night too. “Good night, Feyre.”

“Good night, Rhys.”

It was difficult to refrain from inviting him up to my room to… just to have him near me. But I made myself turn away from him and climb the narrow staircase to my solitary bedroom at the top of the house. 

I’d just crawled into bed when a text came through on my phone. I lunged for the nightstand, knocking my phone to the floor in the process. Relieved that no one had been around to witness such a display of grace and decorum, recognizing how obviously desperate I was for Rhys to text me, I reached down, scooped up my phone, and pulled up my messages.

Tamlin Spring: I heard you took Rhys home with you for Thanksgiving

All the air left my body. 

Tamlin Spring: You never took me home to meet your family. I didn’t realize you were such a slut. Did a year with me mean nothing to you?

Tamlin Spring: I would take you back--if you got on your knees in front of me and begged 

Tamlin Spring: You were only ever good on your knees, anyway

Now it felt as though all the blood had left my body too. 

I threw my phone against the room. I sat up in my bed, face in my hands. I should just ignore his messages and leave it alone. He had no right to comment on what I was doing. Who had even told him I’d invited Rhys home with me for Thanksgiving, anyway? Besides, it was just friends helping friends. Rhys being here didn’t mean anything. It certainly didn’t make me a slut.

But as my phone buzzed again, and then again, as I tried to shut my eyes and shut out what he’d said. . . I couldn’t stop rereading his texts inside my head. Was I just a slut? A traitor for having these feelings for Rhys so soon after ending things with Tamlin?

He would still take me back? Like that was going to happen. But. . . I remembered what he’d said when he’d kidnapped me and forced me to drink…. Something about just giving me space, as though he didn’t think we were actually broken up...

But if he was telling me I was a slut over a text… He’d probably spread that rumor to the rest of the team by now. Along with a story about how I was a cheater too. After I’d worked so hard to stay out of the drama and sexual intrigue so abundant on my swim team. Against my will, tears leaked from between my fingers.

My phone buzzed for a third time and I dragged myself out of bed to retrieve it. I was determined to silence it and cry myself to sleep, but instead of another text from Tamlin, three from Rhys popped up.

Rhys: What was that bang? 

Rhys: I’m in the room underneath yours, I think

Rhys: FEYRE ARE YOU ALIVE

As I read them, another popped up.

Rhys: Don’t make me come up there

I started typing my response, telling him I was fine and to go to bed when a soft knock sounded at my door. I padded over to it and pulled it open.

“How did you get up here so fast?” I whispered.

“Texted as I walked. Obviously.”

“Well you didn’t need to waste the trip. I threw my phone at the ground.”

“Your phone is enormous. The bang caused the elaborate chandelier over my bed to swing ominously. I feared for my life.” He was teasing me. But then the smile melted from his face as he noticed what I was wearing. 

A large grey t-shirt that came to rest mid-thigh. And nothing else. I didn’t even have it in me to blush, I was so intent on not letting him see the tears left on my face. He looked down only for a moment, though, before his gaze settled firmly above my neckline. 

“Thanks for checking on me, Rhys.” I turned to go.

Slut. The word echoed through my mind. I was sure to return to the team to find myself at the center of all the gossip. What would Cassian and Mor think? Would they believe the rumors? We hadn’t been friends for long. I’d barely interacted with Amren and Azriel at this point. They’d surely believe the rumors. 

Rhys caught my arm, taking a few steps farther into my room. “Feyre. What’s wrong? Why did you throw your phone at the floor?”

I had no idea why I gave up so easily, but I brandished my phone at him. He took it from me and I stared at the wall beside his head as he found the texts from Tamlin and read them. 

“What. An. Asshole,” he said through gritted teeth.

“It’s fine.”

He gave my phone back to me. “No, no it’s not. He needs to leave you the fuck alone. He’s not your boyfriend anymore.”

Now I really did turn away. “I don’t need the encouragement, Rhys. He’s right, yeah? I’m just a slut. Moving on way too quickly.”

He raced around to stand in front of me. “No. You are not a slut. Your relationship is over. You ended it the right way. And for good reason, too.  Nothing he just texted you has an ounce of truth to it. You should block him and forget about it.”

I didn’t say anything, just kept my eyes glued to the ground. I didn’t trust myself to look at him. I’d probably try to act on my “slutty tendencies” if I looked into his violet eyes. 

Two fingers hooked under my chin and pulled my face up to his. “Feyre. I promise you. You’re doing nothing wrong.” 

I couldn’t stop the fresh tears that escaped me. How had a few text messages from an asshole managed to upset me so much? Or maybe I was crying in relief that Rhys was so vehemently disagreeing with what Tamlin had sent. Either way, the tears kept coming as he looked at me. And then, slowly--so very slowly--he removed his fingers from my chin and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me toward him. 

I stood there for a moment as he held me, arms hanging uselessly at my sides. And then I hugged him back, my arms coming up and over his shoulders to wrap around his neck. I slid one hand into his soft black hair. “Thanks for coming for me,” I whispered. “And I don’t just mean tonight.” 

He huffed out a breath. “Anytime.” 

I didn’t let go for a long, long time. Until I realized…

“Where the hell is your boot?”

He pulled back, his hands still resting lightly on my waist. “Uh…”

“Rhysand Night!” I whacked his arm. “You walked up here without your boot! Don’t you want to heal?!” 

He put his hands on his hips. It was then that I noticed he wasn’t putting a whole lot of weight on his injured foot. “I heard a large thump and came up here prepared to defend you from a murderer or something, and this is how you thank me?”

I pushed him backward, forcing him to take a seat on my bed. “I can kill my own murderers, thank you very much. Now sit. I’m going to get your boot right now.”

But he reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me roughly toward him so I stood between his legs. My hands came to rest on his shoulders to steady myself. “I’m trying to make sure you can train sooner rather than later, you know,” I managed to say, but the thrill at being so close to him like this was overriding nearly every other thought in my mind.

“I’m a big boy. I can handle it.” 

And then he kissed me. 

I was stunned for only a moment before my hands moved from his shoulders to thread through his silky black hair. His lips pressed against mine, so soft. His kiss was firm, neither too gentle nor too rough, and mere seconds passed before his tongue traced my lips and I opened my mouth, letting him in. 

His tongue swept in and he inched back on the bed, keeping his mouth firmly planted against mine, pulling me onto the bed after him. His size hit me again, then. I was so small compared to him. He removed his lips from mine and he eased me onto my back. Turning, he leaned over me and his mouth claimed mine again, this time slightly more eager, as his right hand moved from my hair, down my side, coming to rest at my waist. I kept one hand firmly entangled in his hair while the other ran down his chest. He was so damn muscular. 

I’d always been a sucker for swimmer’s bodies. 

He pulled away for a moment. “So…”

I let out an irritated squeak of protest, but he slipped a hand beneath my shirt and flattened it against my stomach. I shut up. 

“Earlier you said something about moving on too quickly.” His hand slid up a little bit.

“Hmm, I don’t recall…” I breathed, in a very futile attempt to hide how desperate I was for him to keep touching me, kissing me. More, more, more, I wanted.

His hand inched up, his thumb now caressing the skin just beneath my breasts. I was definitely not wearing a bra.

“What did you mean by that, Feyre darling?”

I tried desperately to suck down a breath as his hand slid up. . . 

“Aren’t you smart enough to figure that out yourself, Rhysand?”

“Rhysand? You cruel, beautiful thing.” 

His hand flattened against my breast and I lost all control as I pulled him down to kiss him again. 

He smiled against my lips, and the joy that flooded through my body as a result of his happiness was almost better than how good it felt to feel his hands on my body, his lips on mine, his weight against me. Almost… 

We stayed like that for quite a while, kissing, not going much farther, before he crawled under the covers, tucked me against him, and we fell asleep.

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

TAGS:))

@sleeping-and-books​  @musicalfae​

[skrltwtch]

iMessed-Up

Prompt: Person A means to send a message to Person B saying, “I love your hair” but accidentally sends “I love you”. It turns out Person B loves them back. Not wanting to break the latter’s heart, Person A asks them out. They date for six months before Person A realises they’ve fallen head over heels for Person B. (Source of prompt in link at bottom of post.)

Word count: 1,430

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Y/N, 8:05 p.m.: Geoooooorge

George, 8:05 p.m.: Yes, hi it’s me.

George, 8:06 p.m.: What’s up?

George, 8:06 p.m.: Honestly, this doesn’t sound good.

Y/N, 8:06 p.m.: Shut

Y/N, 8:07 p.m.: Up

Y/N, 8:07 p.m.: I want to share pictures of last night

Y/N, 8:07 p.m.: And …

Y/N, 8:07 p.m.: I know you’re not on like, anything

Y/N, 8:08 p.m.: Weird flex, but okay [smirking face emoji]

George, 8:09 p.m.: It’s not weird.

George, 8:09 p.m.: Is it?

Y/N, 8:10 p.m.: Nope. It’s commendable, really

George, 8:11 p.m.: You can quit, you know.

Y/N, 8:12 p.m.: I can, but do I want to

George, 8:12 p.m.: [man shrugging emoji]

Y/N, 8:14 p.m.: Anyway, what I wanted to ask was — I wanted to run some pictures of last night by you because you’re not on anything and I don’t want to be that person who uploads terrible pictures of their friends, especially someone who can’t defend themselves

George, 8:15 p.m.: That’s … sweet.

George, 8:15 p.m.: Thank you.

George, 8:15 p.m.: But I’m certain I look good in all of them.

George, 8:15 p.m.:

Y/N, 8:16 p.m.: You’re grossly photogenic

Y/N, 8:16 p.m.: And I hate you

George, 8:16 p.m.: LOL.

Y/N, 8:18 p.m.: Ok, incoming pic spam. Don’t say I didn’t warn you

Y/N, 8:19 p.m.: Pick three, please?

Y/N, 8:19 p.m.: The best

Y/N, 8:19 p.m.: Your favourites

George, 8:20 p.m.: Bring it on.

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:25 p.m.: I picked the best of the bunch. There were more

Y/N, 8:26 p.m.: Lots more

George, 8:28 p.m.: These look great.

George, 8:28 p.m.: You look great.

Y/N, 8:29 p.m.: [blushing emoji] [blowing a kiss emoji]

Y/N, 8:29 p.m.: Thank you!

Y/N, 8:30 p.m.: You look smashing, too

George, 8:30 p.m.: Thank you.

George, 8:31 p.m.: Um … I’d go with these.

George, 8:32 p.m.: [image]

George, 8:32 p.m.: [image]

George, 8:32 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:33 p.m.: Yeah, I was thinking of those, too

George, 8:34 p.m.: Don’t we just look cute together?

Y/N, 8:34 p.m.: Absolutely

Y/N, 8:35 p.m.: Ok, I’ll share them — slap on a filter or two first — and I’ll show you the comments

Y/N, 8:36 p.m.: Like I always do [smiling emoji]

George, 8:37 p.m.: I bet most of it will be ‘Why isn’t George on here?’ and ‘That wanker George doesn’t know what he’s missing’.

Y/N, 8:38 p.m.: Eh, that’s about right

Y/N, 8:38 p.m.: But it is your choice

Y/N, 8:39 p.m.: Some people really could afford to not be on Instagram

Y/N, 8:39 p.m.: Not that you’re one of them. But I’m glad you let me post stuff of you

Y/N, 8:40 p.m.: Especially since, you know, you’re in movies now

George, 8:41 p.m.: That doesn’t mean anything will change.

Y/N, 8:42 p.m.: I know

Y/N, 8:42 p.m.: And I’m really happy for you

Y/N, 8:42 p.m.: And proud of you

Y/N, 8:43 p.m.: I like this picture a lot

Y/N, 8:44 p.m.: You’re right. We do look cute together [smiling face with hearts emoji]

George, 8:45 p.m.: Have I ever been wrong?

Y/N, 8:46 p.m.: Shut up

Y/N, 8:46 p.m.: God, I love you

I put my phone down slowly, knowing that all I needed to do next was absolutely fucking nothing. Stupid fingers. Stupid, stupid fingers. I didn’t not love George. I loved him — as a friend. He was nice, and he was so lovely, and so sweet, but it never once crossed my mind that we could be … more than. I hadn’t even finished processing the fact that he’d still hang out, and want to hang out, with me and our other, childhood friends after having landed a couple of roles in which he received top billing. Damn it. ‘Your hair’ was how that sentence was supposed to end. Now I had no idea what kind of end I had sentenced our friendship to.

His sudden reticence after providing such swift responses wasn’t helping. He had read the message. For once I’d welcome the ominous pulsing three dots, just so I’d know he was still there and hadn’t — I couldn’t imagine how he might’ve reacted, and I didn’t know either what kind of reaction I wanted him to have. I did know that what I had to do next depended on his response. And damn it, I needed it now.

‘…’

Look at those dumb dots, bouncing away without a care in the world.

‘…’

Imagine being on the verge of an anxiety attack because of three damn dots. And because the connection between your brain and your fingers picked the best moment possible to fail you.

‘I love you, too.’

My face drained itself of all colour.

Be careful what you wish for, am I right?

He followed up with a heart emoji. No, two. No, three.

I screamed into the nearest pillow. He was serious. This was serious, because he tended to use emojis like they were rare, precious resources on which the world was running low.

I hadn’t a clue what to do. The state of things was undeniable: I was now living in a universe where I told my best friend I loved him when I didn’t, not in that way, and he told me he did, too, yes in that way. I needed counsel. And the one person I could turn to in times like this, and come away enlightened and empowered, was what I happened to need help with. Of course. There was no second best. There never was.

I sighed; my phone felt like a brick in my hand. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t break his heart. I didn’t want to. I’d never dream of it. But would leading him on amount to the same thing? I had seen and read plenty of stories in many forms of media about people who’d chosen to tell or fudge the truth in similar situations, and guess what? Neither course of action culminated in happy endings. If there were any that didn’t make it to online forums about laughable or cringe-worthy attempts at backpedalling, I wasn’t aware.

I needed space. I needed time. To think. I needed to see him. His presence would be calming, even if he’d caused this state of emergency in the first place. I’d know what to do when I see his face — in person, because the sight of his contact picture on my phone and the photos I’d filled our chat with were, for some reason, sending all the circuits in my brain crashing into one another.

I released the breath I’d been holding since the third heart emoji made it from his phone to mine.

I sent him a heart emoji, and I asked him out.

Not like, you know, on a date.

Just out.

✦✧✦✧

I pulled my chair closer to his, leaned into his shoulder, and shoved my phone in front of him. ‘Look at this,’ I said, ‘this’ being a photo of us on our most recent date: our third visit to the Barbican Conservatory after my blunder — one of the classics, just next to getting involved in a land war with Asia — saw us fancying ourselves as a couple.

‘That’s us?’ said George. He took my phone and stared at the picture. ‘We’re fucking adorable.’

It could be the 7,827th time he’d say that about us, and my stomach would still find itself host to a kaleidoscope of butterflies. I’d come to love the idea of an ‘us’. And so did everyone in our social circles, apparently, some well before George and me being an ‘us’ turned out to be one of the rare positive outcomes of me being an arse. He didn’t know about that, and he’d never know about that. I wasn’t in the business of being cruel — I’d clearly never been. Hell, after a certain point, I started to count my blessings daily that I took this gamble: it wasn’t long before I found myself falling head over feet for him. I remembered berating myself once for not seeing this sooner.

‘Everyone agrees,’ I said. ‘Read the comments.’

‘I am,’ he said. ‘It never fails to amuse me how people make such a big deal about me not being on Instagram or whatever. I’m perfectly fine raking in social clout by proxy.’ He took a sip of his salted caramel mocha. ‘Besides, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be on social media now, not when I’m about to start this new project. I think it could be big.’ His fingers interlocked themselves with mine.

‘Of course it’ll be big. It’s with Sam Mendes.’ I grinned. ‘I’m so proud of you,’ I said into his ear.

He leaned in to thank me with a peck on my cheek. That simple act warmed me up better than my pumpkin spice latte.

He passed me back my phone, after which I went back to mindlessly scrolling through my profile, a careful curation of photos of us, food, my outfits, my cat, and just about everything else. It didn’t take me long to reach the catalyst of our relationship: an innocent wefie at Columbia Road Flower Market, where I’d spotted the most beautiful peonies and couldn’t pass up the chance for a commemoration of my latest purchase with my favourite person in the world. My heart swelled. The one visible comment on the photo, made judiciously by a friend, read, ‘Fucking hell, get together already, you two. And tell George his hair’s out of control’.

I put my phone face down on the table and turned to George. ‘I love you,’ I said, ‘and your hair.’

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #327

starting to run outta steam... haha.

What design is on your shower curtain? It doesn't have one. Did you get in trouble for cussing on accident when you were a kid? Ha ha yeah, for yelling "HOLY SHIT!" once, lmao. Ever made a snow angel? Yeah. Do you laugh at racial jokes? Absolutley not. What’s the highest you can count in a different language? 999, in German. How’s your flirting skills? I wouldn't know, ask those I've flirted with. Have you ever cried over a breakup? For a whole year and then some. I still have episodes. What does your dream life look like? Living isolated in the woods by a river and waterfall with a fantastic spouse, me being a very successful photographer and at least somewhat above *just* financially "stable," maybe having at least one poem published, lots of pets (mostly snakes), plenty of travel opportunities (mostly for photography), being free of my social anxiety and actually being reasonably confident, back in great physical shape... I'm really daydreaming now. What’s something you wish would happen, but know won’t? bleh Where did you meet your current or last significant other? YouTube, back when it was a much more social platform. Do you enjoy wine? No, it's way too bitter. What did you last ask your parents permission for? I asked Mom if I could snack on some chocolate chips she was saving for fudge (since Christmastime...). She was fine with it. Periods are fun. Do you get annoyed when you hear babies crying? I shouldn't, but I do. Me and babies just don't mix. Why were you in a waiting room the last time? I was at a doctor's appointment. What’s your lawyer’s name? I don’t have one. Do you own a lot of scarves? I don't think I own any... Would you ever get a face tattoo? I doubt it, but maybe something very small and subtle. Are your expecting anything in the mail? No. What would you like to see out of your window everyday instead of what you see now? Nature. The woods. Would you rather have a house exterior made from wood, brick, or stucco? Aesthetically, wood, but I don't support the continuation of wood housing in a society where we have many other options that don't harm the environment as much. So, realistically, brick. What is your favorite breakfast? Cinnamon rolls. Do you own a diamond ring? No. Have you ever stripped? No. Do you remember the last movie you saw while on a date? IT with Girt. Whose house did you last sleep over at? Sara's. Yes or no: foreplay? Lmao who the fuck does it w/o foreplay first. Would you ever record you having sex? No fucking way. Something nobody’d ever guess about you? I used to be in great shape. Would you like to be a journalist? I actually wouldn't mind it. It was almost my minor the last time I was in college, actually, but the required courses were a no-no for me. Last year for school, we had an assignment where we had to choose a popular song to write a story based on. What song would you’ve picked? I don't know popular songs, so I'm picking any song. Off the top of my head, given my love for dark and morbid shit, maybe "Voyeur" by Otep. That song is messed up as fuck. No, it's actually not about sex, 'cuz I ain't interested in writing about that. Did the vacuum scare you as a child? I don't think it did. Do you have a long driveway? No, it's actually very short. Have you ever begged someone to stay with you? Oh yes. Are you friends with anyone missing one of their five senses? Not to my knowledge. Are you good at Pac Man? I'm no better than anyone else. Do you have an embarrassing period story? If so, what is it? No. Have you ever gotten high off a prescription medication? No. Do you prefer tampons or pads? Tampons. Pads are mega uncomf. How old were you when your parents talked to you about puberty? I don't know, actually. What stereotype do you fit the most? Geek, maybe? Emo? Idk. If you’re a worshipper, how do you worship? I don't worship anything. What’s your favorite pain reliever? Advil. Do you have a lot of people blocked on Facebook? Not a lot, no. Does your father have facial hair? Yes. Have you ever had a hamster? Yeah, we went through a few. All of 'em were evil. Grape or strawberry jelly? Absolutely grape. What language would you most like to know fluently? German. Do you remember the last song you slow danced to? "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin. Do you plan on having alcohol at your wedding? I don't know. Do you have an idea of who you might kiss next? I know who I WANT to kiss next, but that doesn't mean it'll happen. I hate psychic questions. Who’s the most controlling person you know? She's not in my life anymore. Do you own a microphone? No. Do you enjoy trailers at the cinema? I do. Name a pet you definitely wouldn’t want. A centipede, to name one. I've gotten more into the idea of owning invertebrates, and centipedes are in that hobby, but they creep me the fuck out. They're cool to watch, but I don't want one in my house. Do you have a picture of you throwing up the peace sign? Yeah, it's actually one of my favorite pictures of me without makeup. Has a very "me" vibe. Do you enjoy romantic movies, even when they’re cliche? Ha, yeah. Can you tell the difference between a Scottish and an Irish accent? Nope. Can you read music? Probably not anymore. Ever sang someone to sleep? No. What is the movie that you have waited the longest for/which film do you remember anticipating the most/are still anticipating? Finding Dory takes the cake. What is something that an interested guy/girl could comment about you, that would make you instantly open to them (e.g., “That book you’re reading is from my favorite author”)? If you compliment my Markiplier tattoo because you get it, we are immediately family. Out of all your usernames for websites, which one is your favorite? Do you use it for more than one site? Ozzkat. I use it essentially everywhere. Have you ever spent the whole day (or multiple days) just looking up one thing on the internet (e.g., videos of your favorite band, how-to videos, quizzes, etc.)? HA, way more than once. Hyperfixation is a friend of mine. Bow ties on guys, dorky or adorable? C U T E ! ! ! What are your thoughts on mini-skirts or mini-dresses? ALSO C U T E ! ! ! Have you ever died in one of your dreams? Yes. What appliance in your kitchen do you use the most often? The microwave. Do you use Skype to talk to your friends? Sara, yes. And Sam once in a blue moon if we're playing WoW together. Are you allergic to any animals? No. Have you ever had to go to the police department? No. Have you ever been called bipolar? Well yes, because I am. Have you ever made fun of a handicapped person? Hell no, and fuck you if you ever have. If a necklace/ring gives you green marks, do you still wear it? No. Have you ever had food poisoning? I don't think so, no. Favorite emoticon? Probably c: Do any emoticons annoy you? No, but an excessive amount of them I find disruptive to whatever I'm reading. Do you think there will be a WWIII? Yup, someday. Has anyone ever asked you if you were emo? Yeah, back in high school. The most interesting thing that’s ever happened to you at a grocery store? I dunno. Probably running into someone unexpected. Do you have any good book ideas? Having written RP since I was 10 years old... I could by now write a dozen dictionary-sized novels encompassing what I think are the greatest storylines. I genuinely do believe there's some fantastic stuff we've got, but there's just too many horribly dark and twisted parts in the evil mobs that I am not comfortable publishing. Are you gonna see Cars 2? Well, this is old. I never even saw the first one. In all honesty, can a person be too nice? Yep. *points at Weed from GDW* Have you ever posted a video onto YouTube? Yeah, mostly "meerkat music videos," I guess you could say. Some tributes to certain MM characters, others just music with meerkat clips. How often do you compliment other people? I try to any time I have a sincere one. I am very much for complimenting people openly and often. The Legend of Zelda series: Twilight Princess or Ocarina of Time? I'm not a fan of the franchise, honestly. Never got the hype. Do you even game at all? Most certainly, but not nearly as much as I used to... You can only replay old games but so many times before you just can't anymore. And the "newest" console I have is the original Wii, so... I definitely don't have the modern equipment. Would you give Zumba dance lessons a try if presented the opportunity? Probably not. Definitely not while my legs are in such bad shape; the dancing is pretty intense and would seriously hurt. I could easily imagine myself fainting. Do you own a rosary? No, but I did in my Catholic-raised childhood. Do you like Adult Swim? No. Sorry excuses for humor everywhere. What’s the first thing you do when you get on the computer? Do a quick check on KM just to ensure everything's in order. What’s one thing that you just wish you could do all of your life? Not have to pay bills, haha. If someone asks for your honest opinion, do you give it? Yes, if they emphasize they really want honesty. When was the last time you felt uninformed or out of the loop? Apparently some politician (I think) died recently and people practically rejoiced on Facebook. I knew zip about him. When in a car, where do you like to sit? Passenger seat/shotgun. Have you ever fought with a good friend over something completely stupid? Oh, absolutely. There have been plenty of RP-related arguments with multiple people... In the big picture, it's laughable to fight over a game, but when you're so invested in your own creations, in the moment, it can seem like a big issue. Those drama days are long behind me now. Would you ever visit a third-world country? I don't think so, no. It would shatter my heart, especially seeing children in poverty. Are you the type that’s too ashamed to ask for or use directions? No. You overhear two people gossiping about you; what do you do? Probably call over something like, "I'm not deaf, you know." I highly doubt I'd sit there with my mouth shut. Have you ever felt manipulated? Yes. If you were homeless, how would you cope? If I was truly, entirely homeless, quite honestly, I'm almost positive I'd kill myself. Have you ever done something just to fit in? Yeah. When was the last time you tried to impress someone, for whatever reason? I'm not sure, but I've certainly done it at one point or another. Do you think that the world could function in a state of anarchy? Definitely not. How well do you know your U.S. [or your country’s] history? I mean, I know the bare bones of it, but I'm far from well-versed in history. It was one of my weak subjects in school. Would you ever wish to move to another country? I'm not kidding when I say if it weren't for family, I would probably move to Canada. What is something that you do that others might consider “nerdy”? The way I write, particularly for academic purposes. I'm very descriptive and have an exceptionally large vocabulary. Have you ever had anything expensive stolen from you? Not from me specifically, but our basketball hoop was stolen from my childhood home. I doubt it was very cheap. Do you understand/notice when someone’s using sarcasm? Usually, anyway. When was the last time you were fooled? HAHA there was this drama video suggested to me on YouTube that involved Mark in the title, and I was mega confused and inevitably clicked. Now it's basically a YouTube meme just how "perfect" Mark is, so there was no real drama; apparently some newer fans are just upset at him for playing the sequel to HuniePop, a very sexual puzzle/dating game that's honestly entertaining and can be really funny. Like... he's played the original and despite the discomfort of some scenes (which are censored, mind you), he still had fun, and it was a big hit on his channel. So him playing the sequel isn't surprising, but apparently some people got shit to say. What first Impression do you hope you make with other people? Something along the lines of "wow, she's very nice." Have you ever thought about how you make other people feel/think? Well of course. I think everyone should take time to consider this. What is your stance on getting revenge? A petty waste of time. Any wise/truthful/witty quotes that you live by? Ha, another Mark answer. He once gave the casual innuendo of, "Life's hard; shouldn't you be, too?" (this might have actually been in a HuniePop video!), but when you take the... uh... sexual theme out of it, it's a good way to look at life???? Have tough skin, unmoving willpower, y'know, that stuff. Who was the last person you sat beside at a restaurant? My sister Ashley. Spongebob or Patrick? Patrick is a whole-ass mood. Would you rather watch little kid’s cartoons, older kid’s cartoons, or adult cartoons? Hm. Probably little kid's, given my love for Pokemon. How about watching regular cartoons or anime? Anime. Who is the last person you spent money on? Myself. Do you own a copy of Roller Coaster Tycoon? No; I had SeaWold Tycoon instead. I loved that game. Do you have any birth marks in embarrassing places? No. Have you used Limewire before? Of course. Free music for the low price of a catastrophic virus. :^) When was the last time you required a band-aid? I think when I cut one of my toenails way too short. Are you afraid of snakes? Oh no! I adore them so, so very much. Not saying I'm gonna go scoop up the first copperhead I find herping or something, but I love and respect them so very much. They are such fascinating animals. If you believe in reincarnation, what animal would you want to become? I don't think I believe in reincarnation, but hypothetically, maybe a lioness. Who do you tell everything to? Pretty much whoever reads these surveys, haha. Did you have candles on your birthday cake? Not my most recent one. Exactly, how old are you? I just turned 25 years and one month old. Have you ever been bitten by anything? Besides bugs, I don't think so. I've had cats and dogs playfight with me, but none have ever seriously bitten me with actual effort. Do you wear hats? No. What was the last song you sang along to? "Lunchbox" by Marilyn Manson. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years time? I'd like to be, but idk if it's realistic.

[tammy-gregorio]

great ones

this is the third and final part of the series that started with hannah coming out to tammy. this one is a lot softer than I had planned, but I’m not complaining at all.

part one

part two

The moment Hannah picked Naomi up from Ryan’s house, the young girl began talking her ear off. Hannah was used to this, her daughter would catch her up on everything she missed while they were apart. Hannah would always spare occasional glances at Naomi to witness how animated her daughter got when she spoke about her life’s events.

When there was a slight lull in the conversation, Hannah took her chance to test the waters about a more serious conversation.

“Hey, Naomi?” She asked, her serious tone pulling the girl’s attention from the window she had been staring out of.

“Yeah?”

When Hannah had her daughter’s attention, she bit her lip. She wasn’t sure exactly how to approach the subject so she settled for easing her way in. “You know my friend Tammy from work?”

Naomi’s expression lit up at the mention of Tammy. The two had only spent a small amount of time together, but it was enough for Naomi to love hanging out with her. It warmed Hannah’s heart to know that Tammy was so good with kids — with her kid especially.

“I’ve talked to you about how she dates women, right?”

Naomi nodded.

Hannah glanced back at her daughter in the rearview mirror. “What do you think of that?”

“It’s cool! Her kids will have two moms! They’ll be lucky.”

A smile grew on Hannah’s lips as she heard her daughter’s response. She had raised Naomi to be accepting of everyone and it was nice to hear that Naomi had held onto those values. Hannah chewed on her lips and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she thought about what to say next. She was unsure if the car was the best place to tell her daughter that she also wanted to date women.

“Mom?” Naomi asked, realizing her mother had fallen silent.

Hannah looked at Naomi through the rearview mirror and plastered a smile on her face. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m just doing a lot of thinking.”

“About what?”

At that moment, Hannah cursed herself for raising such a curious child. She loved to watch Naomi as a curious child, but this was not an instance in which Hannah really wanted Naomi to be curious.

“You know your dad and I aren’t together anymore,” Hannah trailed off. “What would you think if I also dated women?”

Hannah kept her eyes forward, she was absolutely terrified of her daughter’s answer. Her heart was racing as she waited for a response from the girl in the backseat and her mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario.

When Naomi finally responded, Hannah was already pulling into her driveway. She put the car in park before turning around to face her daughter.

“I could have two moms and a dad! That would be cool. Would you date Tammy?”

Biting her lip, Hannah shook her head and tried not to laugh. Even if her Naomi didn’t have a clue about her feelings, she still managed to bring up the possibility of dating Tammy.

“I don’t think so, honey,” Hannah replied. “We’re just friends.” Just friends and nothing more, Hannah reminded herself.

Thankfully, Naomi unintentionally dropped the subject. She rushed her mom to get out of the car so that the two could get inside to have a movie marathon. Hannah had suggested the idea when she picked up Naomi, knowing the girl was looking forward to spending time with her father. The suggestion immediately got Naomi’s mind off of her time with her dad being cut short and she already had begun planning what movies they would watch before Hannah could even pull out of the driveway.

Several animated children’s movies later, Hannah felt her stomach growl and checked the time. It was too late for lunch, but she could get away with doing an early dinner for Naomi and herself. When they arrived home earlier in the morning, Hannah had pulled a brick of pizza dough out of the freezer and left it in the refrigerator to thaw so she could make pizza for dinner. Ever since being back with her daughter, Hannah was trying to make up for their lost time — which included making her favorite dinners whenever she got the chance.

“Let’s take a break from watching movies to make dinner,” Hannah suggested, ruffling Naomi’s hair.

Naomi giggled at her mother and hid her face in Hannah’s shoulder.

Shaking her head, Hannah kissed the top of Naomi’s head before standing up to head to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed everything she needed to make the pizza, including some additional ingredients to make a salad to have along with dinner.

“Can we invite Tammy?”

Hannah turned around to face her daughter. She bit her lip and looked over at her phone that was sitting on the island. “I don’t know, honey, she might have plans.”

Naomi’s smile slowly turned to a frown and she sighed loudly, leaning against the counter. “Can we call her and ask?”

Knowing her daughter wouldn’t give up, Hannah nodded. She set all of the ingredients on the counter before going to reach for her phone, but she wasn’t faster than Naomi, who had already grabbed the device and was looking for Tammy’s contact.

“Put it on speaker,” Hannah mumbled once Naomi finally pressed ‘call’.

Naomi followed her mother’s order, grinning as she waited for Tammy to answer.

“Hello?” Tammy’s voice echoed through the room.

“Tammy!” Naomi exclaimed. “Are you doing anything right now? Mom and I are going to make pizza and then watch more movies!”

Hannah leaned her elbows on the island as she spoke toward her phone. “Naomi wanted to invite you, but if you have plans already, it’s completely fine.”

Hannah wasn’t lying when she said it was fine, she wasn’t sure if being around Tammy was the best thing for her right now but she couldn’t deny her daughter. The two had a sweet bond and Hannah couldn’t ruin that for Naomi simply because she was confused about her feelings toward Tammy. She would have to ignore whatever she was feeling for the night and let Naomi enjoy her time with Tammy. She wasn’t sure if she would have many more nights like this if she were to make the mistake she had almost made earlier in the morning.

“I’m down the street, I can be there in a few minutes,” Tammy replied, unaware of the excitement she just caused for Naomi, as well as the internal dilemma she was causing in Hannah.

“Great,” Hannah smiled. “We’ll see you then.”

Within a few minutes of ending the call, Hannah’s doorbell rang. Hannah set down the knife she had been using to chop the tomatoes for the pizza and smiled at Naomi. “Tammy’s here.” She walked toward the door, pausing in front of the mirror beside her door. Hannah fixed any stray strands in her hair and adjusted her top before taking a small breath and opening the door to reveal a smiling Tammy on the other side.

“Hey,” Tammy said softly, biting her lip as her eyes roamed over Hannah’s body.

“Hi,” came Hannah’s short reply. She opened the door wide enough to let Tammy in and turned to call for Naomi.

Before Hannah could even say anything, Naomi came running out from the kitchen and ran straight for Tammy. She jumped into the woman’s arms, showing more excitement than Hannah had seen from her in a while.

Tammy kissed Naomi’s cheek before setting her back on the ground. “Hey, kiddo!”

“You’re just in time! Mom and I are making the pizza now!”

Hannah nodded, “I was prepping everything while waiting on you.”

Naomi grabbed Tammy’s hand and led her to the kitchen, leaving Hannah standing alone by the door. She closed it, making sure to lock it, and followed her daughter and best friend into the kitchen. Hannah plastered on a smile and tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she walked right behind Tammy. She fought to ignore how she delicious she smelled, or how warm her body was when Hannah’s hand brushed against her back when she walked behind her to get back to the refrigerator.

While Naomi spoke to Tammy, Hannah reached into the fridge and pulled out two beers. After handing one to Tammy, Hannah dug into the drawer closest to her and grabbed the bottle opener she kept. She opened Tammy’s bottle first, earning a grin from the woman that sent a shiver down her spine. She quickly opened her own and downed a few sips, hoping it would help her ignore whatever it was she was feeling.

Hannah relaxed as she fell into a routine with Tammy and Naomi, everyone having a specific role in the preparation of dinner. Things moved smoothly, much like Tammy and Hannah’s situation earlier in the morning — without the sexual tension being as obvious as it was then.

After dinner, the three had settled on the couch with Naomi sitting between the two women. Naomi had picked out a movie she wanted to show Tammy, but by the end of the movie, Naomi had fallen asleep with her head resting on Tammy’s chest. At some point, Naomi had left Hannah’s grip and moved to lean against Tammy, who wrapped her arm around the girl with a smile on her face.

Hannah’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest at the scene unfolding beside her. Seeing her daughter so comfortable with Tammy brought her feelings to another level, one she didn’t even know existed.

“I came out to her,” Hannah whispered to Tammy. “She was excited at the idea of me dating.”

Tammy turned her head as a wide grin grew on her face. “She was?”

Nodding, Hannah looked down at her daughter and reached down to brush her hair out of her face. She didn’t dare mention Naomi’s question about the possibility of the two of them dating, she didn’t want to ruin whatever they had going.

The room fell silent and Tammy reached out to grab Hannah’s hand that had been resting on the back of the couch. Her thumb rubbed gentle circles on the back of it, relaxing the woman beside her. This earned a soft smile from Hannah as well as an appreciative hum.

Naomi’s grip on Tammy’s shirt tightened, drawing Hannah’s attention away from their joined hands. She let out a small breath before shaking her head. “I should get her to bed.”

“I’ll take her,” Tammy offered, smiling down at Naomi’s sleeping figure.

There was no hesitation from Hannah relating to the offer, she trusted Tammy with her daughter. It would also give her a minute alone to collect her thoughts while she cleaned up the living room from their day of binging movies.

Hannah’s phone stared back at her on the end table beside the couch and she glanced down the hall before picking it up. Within a few taps, the phone was ringing. She held it up to her ear, waiting on the person on the other end to pick up.

Once she heard a voice, she sat on the arm of the couch and took a deep breath. “Ryan, I’m ready to sign the papers.”

tags: @evazarovas @dwaynepride @jimmybpride @stanathanxoox @hannah-sloane-38 @lgcoffeeaddict 

masterlist

[thenamesseven]

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: None in this part, although there be a bunch of angst in the future. If you read the first part of this story, Liar, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

A/n: It’s finally heeeeere! :3 I finally started writing the second story of this serie and omg guys I’m so nervous and excited at the same time! Before some of you say it, I know this part is short compared to other posts buuut this is just the prologue, I wrote it to help you guys get situated about the situation in this story! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story as much as Liar or even more, I’ll try my best in writing it!

Meeting Yugyeom was like a dream coming true, the day he admitted you were his best friend felt like being in Heaven and having a crush on him was something you knew it would happen since the beginning. At first you thought it was something childish, you have been a fan of him since you discovered GOT7 so when you finally got to meet him face to face it was normal for you to be mesmerized by that bright yet charming and boyish smile he flashed your way. As time passed your crush only grew and after some years of friendship you were the living cliche of a friendzoned best friend, you weren't sad or frustrated about it though, as stupid as it sounds you had enough being his friend.

Not everybody was lucky enough to have somebody as awesome as him in their lives.

Everything changed when she came around and even when you were a person that liked changes, you were 100% certain that Yugyeom's girlfriend meant trouble, for him and for you. Youngjae -your second best friend-, at first, had called your dislike towards Yugyeom's girlfriend jealousy. You weren't jealous though, you had accepted a long time ago that Yugyeom would never return your feelings so when he said he had found somebody, you couldn't help but feel happy for him.

Meeting Jina had been something you were looking forward until you were standing there in front if her. She didn't even talk before alarms started ringing in your head, it was the way she looked at you, the way she stood there quietly challenging you that irked your usually calm behaviour. Jina saw you as a threat and would make the impossible to make Yugyeom spend as less time as possible with you.

You saw the struggle Yugyeom went through trying to hang out with you without Jina noticing but also without you noticing what his girlfriend was trying to do. Little did he know that you already knew what was going on and that you could tell who was the one that was going to lose the battle. Love wins over friendship, his decision was pretty obvious.

Yugyeom stopped contacting you one day out of the blue, you had expected that to happen but when it truly did, it felt like your heart broke in tiny pieces that nobody would be able to put back together. Subconsciously you had been hoping he wouldn't be that kind of guy, that he wouldn't ignore the friendship the both of you built because somebody told him to.

But he was, and he left you and your feelings alone.

Accepting Yugyeom, your best friend, was not a part of your life anymore was something difficult, something you wouldn’t even wish for your worst enemy. Getting used to the memories of your time spent together, of the places you visited with him was not the worse part, the worst part was walking past him whenever you went backstage with one of the guys, going to the dorms and seeing him hanging out with his loving girlfriend.

The worst part was accepting he was still friends with everybody but not with you.

However more changes shook your life upside down, bringing Yugyeom back to your life.

It was Friday night and like usual you had successfully dodged Youngjae’s insistence on going out with him and the guys once again and ended up cuddling your pillow as you laid down on your couch during a Harry Potter marathon. You had recently finished reading the books and that made you get a little nostalgic of the movies so since you usually didn’t make plans on a Friday night you decided to watch the seven movies by yourself, in one night.

You got a bunch of steamy coffee waiting for you in your enormous mug and a bowl of popcorn that would definitely help you get through the first two movies without feeling drowsy. Watching movies by yourself tended to make you feel sleepy, that was one of the reasons Yugyeom always came over whenever you felt like watching something at home instead of going to the cinema and since you were still going through the “forget Yugyeom” phase, you had decided to start doing things you used to do with him by yourself. 

You never said you had to success though.

Loud knocks awoke you from your dreams. You had fallen asleep at the beginning of the third movie, your nap lasted two hours making you miss the entire third and fourth movie and coming back to live in the fifth one. You immediately stopped the movie, you had seen the seven of them for a lot of times but never have you ever skipped one of the movies, it just felt wrong to do so. 

Sighing you leaned back against the couch, running your fingers through your hair that had to look like a bird’s nest at this point but again the loud knocks coming from outside awoke your common sense this time. Who could be at your door at 3 am in the morning? Plus, by the tapping sound you were able to hear on your windows it was probably raining a lot outside, enough to drench you as soon as you opened the main door. It definitely couldn’t be a serial killer because those weren’t too keen on knocking before assaulting you with their knives, you didn’t have family around the area or the country and since your relationship with them wasn’t too good you knew they weren’t the ones waiting outside for you to open the door. The guys would have called before showing up for-

“(Y/N)?”

Your body froze from head to toe as soon as you heard his voice. The idea of Yugyeom standing outside of your door hadn’t even crossed your mind, in fact, you thought it would be more likely if a serial killer was standing there than Yugyeom himself. A bunch of thoughts instantly filled your mind, what is he doing here? Why would he come at this hour? He’s not drunk, is he? For a second, petty feelings took control of you and you hesitated between ignoring him and opening the door but you weren’t like that. Youngjae always said you were too good for this world, that you would have to learn to say no sometimes before people took advantage of you for too long. You were that idiot that always forgave people too easily, that always put on a big smile when you were the one hurting inside so nobody would worry about you.

You were an absolute angel sent from Heaven and that’s what made you open the door.

You would probably regret your decision later or maybe you would thank yourself for opening the door that night, you didn’t know what you would do if you didn’t take the risk.

When the door slowly opened Yugyeom felt like kneeling in front of you and asking for forgiveness until his voice vanished, he had heard the television from outside and had started thinking you truly didn’t want to see him again when he knocked and you didn’t open the door. Being blinded by love turned him into a jerk and Yugyeom knew he didn’t deserve your forgiveness, that he didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you for disappearing from your life without a word, without an explanation but he also knew, that deep down, you still missed him and that you would warm up to him if he worked to get your friendship back.

Friendship worked like that, right? You wouldn’t turn your back to him...Right?

“Yugyeom” 

You had not been prepared for the sight in front of you. Yugyeom stood at your porch absolutely drenched from head to toe, hair sticking to his skin as he kept attempting to brush it away with his also wet sleeve. His eyes were red and puffy, a clear sign that he had been crying and his cheeks red due to the cold air that was blowing that night. He had a duffle bag in hand, filled with clothes probably. Your eyes widen in realization, he had been kicked out from his apartment.

“C-Come inside, you’re going to get sick if you keep standing there”

Yugyeom had not been prepared to come back to you. He had expected insults, a bunch of shouting and even a couple of punches from your cute little fists but he hadn’t expected to see your usually bright eyes to be filled with worry and for you to move aside and let him into your house so easily? You were definitely an angel.

He had thought there were no tears left to cry in his eyes, that he had cried his lungs and eyes out on his way to your house but as soon as he stepped inside and the warmth feeling mixed with your sweet scent hit him like a ton of bricks Yugyeom broke down in front of you, sobbing like a child who had lost his favorite toy. Yugyeom fell on his knees, a puddle of water and tears surrounding him as you stood there, so shocked and surprised that your body wasn’t even reacting. You could only think where’s the happy Yugyeom I knew? Who’s the guy crying in front of me?

Where’s my Yugyeom?

And even when you could see your Yugyeom was broken, that he was absolutely gone you didn’t want to admit it, you didn’t want to see it.

The first break up it’s horrible because it’s the first time your heart breaks. Good thing Yugyeom had somebody to help him reconstruct it, because he knew he could make things right between the both of you again, he knew you would help him out of this one. His first mistake was falling in love with Jina, his second mistake was ignoring you but isn’t it true that two wrongs make a right?

Or like people say, one nail drives out another…

Right?

[remywrites5]

@cuddlingdeath   For Lexy who has been having a bad week. I pitched this idea to her earlier today and she thought it was cute so I wrote it for her. Hope you like it!! 

***

       “Have you ever thought about getting a service animal?” Natasha asked with no preamble as if they were in the middle of a conversation. Natasha was Bucky’s physical therapist and had been helping him work with his new prosthetic arm. She also happened to be the closest thing Bucky had to a friend since returning from the war.

           “Not really,” Bucky said with a shrug, twisting his prosthetic arm and curling the fingers of it to check the mobility. He’d only had the thing for a few days and seeing it move was still alarming. Shuri, who had designed it for him, had done an amazing job. Bucky was almost afraid of damaging it. Not that there was much call for concern now that he’d been discharged.

           Nat watched him while tapping her finger against her chin pensively. “You should,” she told him. “I think it would be good for you. I know someone who trains them. I could inquire whether he has any ready for service.”

           Bucky’s brow furrowed. “Why are you pushing this?” he asked, flicking his hair out of his face. When it came to his personal life, Nat had quite a few suggestions, more than she probably should have, but she was never so pushy about them.

           “When was the last time you spent a night where you weren’t alone?” she asked pointedly.

           Bucky ducked his head, knowing the answer was months. His sister Becca had visited him back in around Christmas. It was already almost summer. “What’s your point?”

           “Maybe it’s time to stop being so isolated, James.”

           Bucky frowned. “I got to the meetings at the VA,” Bucky reminded her. He didn’t mention that he never spoke at the meetings, just listened to other people’s stories, and had never said much to the other guys there. Sam, the guy who ran the meetings was a good sort and liked to tease Bucky mercilessly.

           “You need something that’s just yours,” Nat insisted, pulling her phone out and typing something quickly out. Bucky didn’t even have to ask, he knew Nat was texting her friend. “You’ve got an appointment with him tomorrow morning at 10am. If I find out you don’t go I’ll make another appointment and I’ll drag your ass down there.”

           Bucky sighed and dragged his hand down his face in aggravation. He didn’t doubt Nat would do it, too. “Fine, I’ll go.”

                                                           ***

           Nat texted him the address that night and told him to ask for Steve. Bucky woke up the next morning and got dressed, only using his right arm. He still wasn’t used to the left one yet. Once he realized it he ate his breakfast only with his left arm, feeling guilty that Shuri had gone to so much trouble to make the arm for him, just for him to ignore it completely.

           It wasn’t too long of a drive seeing as this place was also in Brooklyn. Bucky paid the cab driver and stepped out in front of a cute little brick house with matching front steps and a white door. He dragged his ass up the steps, knowing it would be much more unpleasant doing this with Nat forcing him to.

           He rapped his knuckles of his right hand on the door, still not used to the strength of his left, and not wanting to bust the damn thing open accidentally. As he waited for someone to answer, he flexed the fingers on his left hand, watching the robotic limbs stretch and pull apart at his command. He felt like something out of a fucking science fiction movie with that hand. Part Terminator.

           Bucky jumped slightly when the door opened, having been distracted by his new robot hand. He had to keep his jaw from dropping when he got his first good look at Steve. When Bucky had pictured Steve he had thought of maybe a middle aged man, maybe someone retired who trained dogs as something to do to stave off boredom. He was not prepared for…this.

           Steve was six foot, his chest and biceps practically threatening to bust through the shirt he was wearing, his blond hair combed and his smile warm.

           Bucky was going to kill Natasha the next time he saw her.

           “Hi,” Steve said, stepping out onto the front stoop and closing the door behind him. “Sorry, I just got some newer dogs in and they’re not trained enough not to bolt for the door when company comes around. You must be Bucky.”

           “Yeah,” Bucky said dumbly, trying his damnedest not to stare at Steve. “Sorry.”

           “Sorry for what?” Steve asked, his grin widening.

           “I don’t know,” Bucky responded with a shrug.

           “Nothing to be sorry for,” Steve assured him. He opened the door back up and ushered Bucky inside quickly. As soon as they were in a few small dogs came up and started jumping towards Bucky, their tails wagging excitedly. Off to the side a few older dogs were sitting at attention, their eyes on Bucky, but remaining still.

           There was a German Shepherd that caught Bucky’s eye immediately. The dog was one of the older ones and had an air of confidence about her. But even so the dog had a sweet face. “Sorry,” Steve said with a knowing grin. “That’s Sarah and she’s my dog. Couldn’t get rid of her even if I tried.”

           Steve went over and gave the dog a pat on the head. “She’s the leader of the pack,” he explained, crouching down and giving her a scratch behind the ear. “She helps me train the new recruits, keeps everyone in line.”

           Bucky felt like his fucking heart was actually melting in his chest from watching Steve with the dog. A few of the other younger dogs had hurried over in hope that Steve would pay attention to them as well. Steve stood up and looked meaningfully at the young pups. “Sit,” he said, curling his hand into a fist and then bringing it up towards his chest. The puppies sat but their tails still wagged, showing their uncontrollable excitement.

           Steve laughed and gave each of the puppies a treat. Bucky thought he might just fucking explode if he kept watching Steve be adorable with the dogs. Steve finished passing out the treats and then looked at Bucky. “So, who catches your eye?”

           Bucky walked over and stood next to Steve. Steve gave him a few commands to give to each dog and see how they responded to him. There was an absolutely gorgeous chocolate lab with huge brown eyes that Bucky felt some kinship with. “That’s Charlie,” Steve said with a knowing smile. “He’s second in command around here after Sarah. There is one stipulation with him if you decide to take him.”

           “Oh?” Bucky asked, making Charlie shake for the third time in a row. “And what’s that?”

           “You have to come back and visit,” Steve said, laughing softly. “I’ve had Charlie for six years and I’d miss him terribly if he never came back. But I have a feeling you need him so I’ll let him go home with you.”

           Bucky thought he could handle that.

                                                           ***

           Bucky absolutely loathed the smug look Nat had on her face when Bucky brought Charlie to his next PT appointment. Charlie sat patiently in the corner on a mat while Bucky did his usual movements with Nat. He was always cautious about petting Charlie with his left hand, terrified he might do it too hard and hurt the dog. Charlie seemed to catch on to this and always only positioned himself on Bucky’s right.

           “So, how did it go with Steve?” Nat asked halfway through their session.

           Bucky rolled his eyes. “It went fine, I got the stupid dog like you asked. Nothing else happened.” He felt bad about calling Charlie stupid considering just how smart the dog was. But he mostly just wanted Nat to drop the subject.

           Nat raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him. “Steve’s your type though, isn’t he?”

           Bucky sputtered. “Why would you think that?” he asked defensively. His mind wandered back to Steve and just how often he thought about that stupidly beautiful man. It’s not like Nat was in his head though, right?

           Nat laughed. “Come on James, I’ve been around you enough to notice what catches your eye.”

           Bucky groaned and covered his face with his good hand. “Please Nat, tell me you didn’t send me over there just to try and set me up with Steve.”

           When Bucky lowered his hand Nat was back to having that unbearable smug look on her face. “It was more of a two birds with one stone kind of situation.”

           Bucky shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

           Nat ignored him. “So did you get his number?” she asked, grinning conspiratorially. “Because I could give it to you if you chickened out.”

           “No, I got his number,” Bucky snapped at her grumpily. He didn’t bother to mention that the only reason he’d gotten Steve’s number was because Steve had offered it up gladly. It was so Bucky would make arrangements to bring Charlie by for visits.

           “Good,” Nat told him, nodding her approval. “You deserve something good, James.”

           Bucky smiled and tried to believe her.

                                                           ***

           It had been several play-dates so far (for the dogs Bucky reminded himself after having slipped up and called it that in front of Nat. The teasing had been endless) and Bucky still hadn’t gotten the courage up to do more than answer Steve when he talked. Bucky used to be so good at flirting back in high school but since returning from the war, his confidence was more or less shattered.

           Although Bucky felt more comfortable around Steve than he did most people. After having gotten over the initial awkwardness of Steve being fucking beautiful they’d actually gotten along pretty well. Bucky was still an asshole and sometimes he’d say something rude or stop the conversation dead in its tracks when he didn’t like where it was going.

           But Steve took it all in stride, never letting it bother him when Bucky said something rude. He’d just call Bucky a jerk fondly like the word was a term of endearment. A weaker man might have blushed from the way Steve said it.

           “So Buck,” Steve said, carefully nudging his shoulder against Bucky’s. “You gonna stay for dinner?”

           They were sitting on Steve’s back stoop watching the dogs play in the fenced in yard. “Depends,” Bucky said teasingly. “You gonna make something edible?”

           Steve scowled at him. “I was going to make burgers on the grill, but if you’re going to be a pain, I won’t.”

           Bucky grinned and ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “I guess I could do dinner.”

                                                                       ***

           They were lounging under a tree at the dog park, Charlie sitting obediently on Bucky’s right, while Sarah had made herself comfortable across Steve’s lap. They were both flushed from running with the dogs. Steve looked devastating with the apples of his cheeks tinged pink and a lazy smile playing on his lips.

           “Can I tell you a secret, Buck?” Steve asked softly.

           “Sure,” Bucky said with a shrug.

           “I’ve been meaning to kiss you for a while now,” Steve told him, risking a glance over to see Bucky’s reaction.

           Bucky bit his bottom lip. “What’s stopping you, Rogers?”

           Steve’s smile widened triumphantly. “Nothing, I suppose.”

           Bucky brought his hand up and cupped Steve’s cheek, surprising himself when he noticed it was his left hand. But Steve didn’t seem to mind it. “Go on then,” Bucky challenged tauntingly.

           Steve’s lips were soft when he finally rose to the challenge, his mouth warm and his tongue red hot as it slid against Bucky’s. The kiss was sweet and so damn affectionate and better than anything Bucky’s ever had in his entire miserable life. And Steve better of been planning to keep Bucky because he was pretty sure he was ruined for anyone else for the rest of his life.

           He managed to jokingly tell Steve as much and the grin he got in return was so fucking open and earnest that he wanted to make fun but couldn’t. Instead he just kissed Steve some more because he was allowed to and it was perfect.

           He knew he was going to owe Nat one hell of a thank you. Maybe Steve could help him come up with something that didn’t sound sarcastic.

[moved-to-anthotnio]

enamorado de ti

Commission for @yesmooshoe | Pepper/Tony | 2.4k words | fluff, romance, falling in love, love confessions, hurt/comfort, pepper needs a hug, tony is a very soft man, latine tony

•••

They're in the workshop when it happens the first time. It's been a fairly long day, with Pepper helping him figure everything out now that the weapons division in Stark Industries has been declared closed by Tony's word on live television only a couple days before. The SI Board isn't happy at all, to say the least, so Tony has to go through a lot of paperwork to ease their minds for a bit as he tries to clear his head enough to determine how to proceed with his decision.

And Pepper, God bless her soul, is still here with him. Even after all this years as his personal assistant, even after deciding to become Iron Man, after literally putting her hand inside his chest and sending him into cardiac arrest for like five seconds, she's still here. Sitting in front of him with her brows furrowed, one hand on her chin as she reads the papers in front of her, her red rimmed eyes more focused than ever even though they've been here for almost two days surrounded by empty coffee mugs piled one on top of the other and different stacks of paper that Tony wants to set on fire - because, oh my God, why couldn't they send this through e-mail or something similar? This is literal torture. Oh. Well. That explains it. -, and the sun rising just behind her back.

So really, no one can blame him. He literally can’t help it, he just can't. It hits him like a ton of bricks, the epiphany making the world shift around him with a new, wonderful perspective. And just that realization has eased all his worries, because suddenly nothing but Pepper’s existence matters. So he really, can't help it, it just slips past his lips and there's no way to stop the words.

“Estoy enamorado de ti.”

I'm in love with you. And he is. He is utterly and irrevocably in love with Virginia Potts.

She looks at him, confusion showing on her face, her beautiful blue eyes set on him with a warm exasperated affection that only she can convey, and says, “You know I can't understand Spanish, right?”

Tony grins, “Well, yeah, that’s kind of the point.”

She smiles and it’s a precious little thing that makes warmth blossom in Tony’s chest. She stands up, almost throwing the papers in her hands, and and flexes her arms over her head, stretching the cramps she must be having away. She sighs deeply before asking, “Want some café? I feel like hell and I need some right now or I’ll just drop dead right here.”

“God you sound like me,” Tony replies, nodding eagerly. Coffee sounds great about now. He definitely needs more, nevermind the mugs laying empty around them. God, what would he do without this woman in his life? “Wait, didn’t we run out of coffee beans this morning?”

“Yeah we did. But I have an idea.”

“Great. You always have the best ideas, Pep.”

She just rolls her eyes and goes over to the coffeemaker, taking a couple of mugs from the pile and rinsing them out before pouring cold coffee in them and putting them in the microwave because that’ll have to do for now.

Then Tony catches up and smirks, “Finally learning some Spanish are we?”

She comes back with the mugs and hands him his with a mischievous smile playing at her lips, “Well, Mr. Stark, having to listen to your nonsense after all these years in English and Spanish has to pay off for something, doesn’t it?”

“But Miss Potts, I thought my money and charming personality were enough,” he replies, looking at her with feigned offence with one hand splayed over his chest, as her laughter fills the air.

“Nice try Tony, now let’s get back to work.”

Yeah, he’s absolutely in love with her.

•••

The second time it happens, they’re snuggled together on the living room couch. Pepper is sick, the exhaustion after working so hard for the past few weeks finally catching up to her. Getting sick due to exhaustion happens often enough to both of them after particularly long work binges that they already have a schedule figured out: sleep, have breakfast, take meds, snuggle through a movie, eat lunch, take meds, and so on. Might seem a bit boring and monotonous, but it works wonders for them. Plus, they get their much needed rest, and are there for each other through it.

So yeah. Pepper is sick and currently lying on the couch with her head on Tony’s lap, as he passes his fingers through her long strawberry blonde hair. Her forehead is hot, and Tony wonders if maybe she should take a lukewarm shower to lower her temperature, but her eyes are focused on the movie and she seems really into it.

By the time the movie is ending, the sun is setting behind New York City’s skyline. The dying rays lighting up the living room with warm, soft yellow light. Tony asks JARVIS to turn the TV off as soon as the credits starts rolling, and pats Pepper softly on the head to wake her up. She turns around with a soft, tired smile on her lips and takes his hand, placing a small kiss on his knuckles.

“Come on honey, let's give you a bath,” he says softly. “Your temperature is too high. We need to lower it a bit.”

She frowns at him, and rolls back again, pressing her head into Tony's thigh, “‘m not hot, just need to sleep.”

“Miss Potts,” comes JARVIS’ voice softly, “I never thought I'd ever say this, but Mr. Stark is right.”

“Hey!” Tony exclaims with indignation.

Pepper laughs softly, the sound muffled by Tony's thigh where she presses her head into his thigh as a makeshift pillow. And even though she's giggling at his expense thanks to JARVIS - damn traitor -, the sound is like music to Tony's ears.

“The bath is ready, Sir.”

“Thanks, J,” he says, and then turns to Pepper.

“Come with me darling,” he murmurs, pulling her up from the couch as she wraps and arm around his neck. “The bath will do you good.”

Pepper just hums as Tony takes her to their bathroom, one hand on one for her hips and the other holding her hand, after she refused to be carried. She's so sleepy she looks like she might just stumble and fall, but Tony is determined to not let that happen, so he hovers close to her. He lowers her to perch on the lip of the tub and helps her strip off her sweaty clothes. She carefully pulls off her shirt off while Tony tugs off her pants and socks. She stands to lift her feet, and Tony slides the rest of them off, along with her underwear.

After they finish, she turns to the foggy mirror, standing there fully naked. She scans her body up and down with her eyes and grimaces at her reflection, “God I look like shit.”

Tony rolls his eyes, and places a light kiss on her freckled shoulder, placing his hands on her hips, still holding her up gently. “Impossible,” he whispers softly against her ear. “You ever looking like shit is unrealistic. You're always gorgeous.”

She raises her eyebrows at him through the mirror, “Oh really? Way to sugarcoat that I do look like shit while sick.”

“No sugarcoating,” he promises, turning her around so they're face to face. “You're beautiful in every way, mi amor. You're sick, and do kinda look like a mess, so what? That doesn't strip you of your beauty, which goes further than your physical appearance. You are beautiful, mi corazón.”

Pepper blushes, the redness of her cheeks coming from Tony's statement hiding among the redness caused by the fever she's suffering, but Tony doesn't miss it, and kisses her cheeks softly.

Once inside the bathtub, she relaxes, her whole body going limp in the water, the accumulated tension leaving her body slowly. She's nodding off as Tony takes it upon himself to clean her body and wash her hair, but Tony makes sure that her head stays above the water.

Later, after she puts on a clean set of pajamas, and they both curl up together in the large bed. Tony says it again, softly, as she falls asleep between his arms.

“Estoy enamorado de ti.”

He hopes that one day he can actually tell her.

•••

The third time it happens, they're on a vacation in México for their six-month anniversary of dating. Tony wanted to show her one of the places he used to visit a lot during his childhood, especially this one, since it's one of the only places in México he ever got to see with his mamá.

The beach is deserted when they arrive. Miles and miles of golden sand stretching along the bay, and nothing but the sound of the seagulls flying above them, and the soft, soothing lap of the waves rolling onto the shore, the warm water licking his feet and ankles. The sun hasn't risen yet, hidden behind the horizon, but the first rays of sunshine are showing already, lighting up the scenery in a mix of orange and pink light.

Pepper sits on the sand, so close to the shore that the waves reach her legs. The hem of her summer dress gets wet when one particular wave rolls higher than the others, sand staying on her skin after the water retreats. She looks beautiful, and her quiet presence makes the scene look as if it were out of a wonderful dream.

Tony sits beside her and hands her her mug of coffee, as they quietly watch the sun begin to rise above the skyline, “Here’s your coffee, honey.”

“Gracias, Tony.” She takes a sip from the mug, and hums with delight. “Hmm, oh my god what did you put in this?”

“A little bit of leche condensada,” He says smiling. “I couldn’t find any milk, so I used a little of the condensed milk we bought to make my mamá’s mango ice cream.”

“This is good, thank you darling.”

“No problem, querida.” Tony takes a big sip from his mug, and stares at the water swaying in front of them.

He tells her stories of his childhood, spending the summer here with his mamá, chasing the water and picking up seashells along with his mamá. Here he learned to make homemade ice cream, learned how to swim, and how to appreciate the little moments with his mamá. Now, as he recalls all the stories he has to tell, everything feels like a lifetime ago.

An idea pops in his mind, and he turns to Pepper, barely hiding his grin. “Hey, are you ready to try again?”

Pepper looks at him, a little confused. But then what he’s asking seems to click in her brain, and he can see the excitement already shining brightly in her eyes, “When am I not ready?”

Tony laughs, and puts his mug of coffee down beside him before taking her hands between his, “Okay, so. Let’s see if you remember the words I taught you on the way here. First, arena?”

“Sand,” Pepper says with confidence, and he knows the game is on.

“Mar?”

“Hmm, sea.”

“Amanecer?”

“Sunrise.”

He eyes her with suspicion, “You're sure?”

“I'm… sure.” Pepper raises her eyebrows at him, amusement clear on her face, making her cheeks shine a soft red color, her freckles standing out. “You’re tricking me aren’t you? Asking me just to confuse me.”

“Got me there,” Tony smirks. “But hey, three out of three, you did alright.”

She nods, grinning at him. He leans in and presses his lips to her in a chaste kiss. He can still feel her grin through the kiss, the soft touch of her lips intoxicating as she whispers against his mouth, “Teach me a little more…”

“God, you’re insatiable.”

She shrugs, all smug, “What can I say? I’m a fast learner.”

Tony rolls his eyes, and thinks of the words he’s gonna say next. “Calor?”

“Heat.”

“Anoche?”

“Last night.”

“Azul?”

“Blue.”

“Ámame?” Tony asks, with a little more feeling that he intended.

Peppers face softens, her lips curving in a beautiful smile that lights up her face, “Love me.”

Tony smiles back, the pressure in his chest growing, the words screaming to get out. “Perhaps I do.”

Her expression shifts, surprise and amusement shining on her face. She smirks, “Well then, how do you say kiss me?”

“Bésame.”

And she does just that. She leans in, her lips on Tony's as she climbs onto his lap. Her hands find their way around his neck, her fingers tangled in the soft curls at the nape of Tony's neck. She breaks the kiss, and leaves butterfly kisses along his jaw and neck, smiling softly against his sun kissed skin. “How do you say hold me?”

Tony pulls her close to him, his arms around her waist. “Abrázame.”

She leans close to his ear, and her voice is barely a whisper. He's not even sure if he was meant to hear the words or not, but he answers anyway.

How do you say I'm in love with you?

“Estoy enamorado de ti.”

She leans back so fast that she almost falls backwards, and Tony watches her face shift with the realization. Tony knows Pepper has heard this words before, has memorized them and has asked him about them several times. Yet she never built up the courage to look them up on her own, or ask anyone else, because she knew they were special and for her ears only. 

And now she knows, and her eyes are shining brightly. She leans back in and kisses him with a feeling that words can't convey. But he understands, he knows what she means, just like she knows what he means, and it feels like the world shifts and rights itself again, all the pieces finally falling back into place, just like when Tony realized he was in love with her.

Tony knows now, his world is moved by Pepper Potts. And now? Now she knows too.

[lifeasitis21]

Newness

Imagine: Henry Cavill x Reader where the reader is a single mom who meets someone that makes it easy to love.

Things took a while to feel normal again after signing the papers. Connor was more broken than you could of imagined. It hurt that one moment he could be agreeing with you, that it was over and that you both deserved to find that ‘one,’  and then the next moment he could be reminiscing about all your good times. You loved him in a different way now, every time you looked at your son, you saw him, it was inevitable. But for the sake of Sam, your entire world, you and your ex needed to show him what it really meant to be happy. 

Explaining divorce to an 8 year old shouldn’t of been easy, but Sam somehow just knew exactly what you were trying to say. He had such a kind heart.

Every once in awhile the emotions would get to you, and when they did Sam would come and find you, always with a bag of fruit snacks in his hands. 

He would sit in your lap and the two of you would share them. You didn’t let it happen often though, and when it did you would always make sure to end the session with a joke or a movie night to take his mind off of it. 

The lives you and Connor lead allowed you shared custody. You alternated weeks with Sam, which was hard sometimes, but it was always just enough of a break, which you needed in the beginning. Not because of Sam though, he was easy. The night you told him about the divorce he’d taken your hand, noticing that you had tears in your eyes, and said “Will this make you happy mom?”

It hit you like a ton of bricks when you realized your 8 year old son had somehow said exactly what you needed to hear, and the answer to that question was yes.

It was almost two years now since the divorce. Sam was 10, and 10 year olds have lives. He loved to play soccer, it took up most of him time now actually. He  had friends he loved, his father who was just as devoted to him after the divorce as he was before it, and you. Above all he was happy, which was all that really mattered to you.

“I know, I’m thinking about going. It’s the weekend before Sam goes to his dads...Yeah I think it’d be fun.”

At the moment, your sister, who was on the other line, was desperately trying to get you to go on this camping trip a few of your friends had planned.

“We both know you deserve to do something for yourself, and they’re your best friends! Sam will be just fine if you’re unavailable for a few days and you know it.”

She was right about that. She was always right but that was beside the point. And your attendance would be more of a favor than anything. Anna, who you’d first met at work had become your closest friend. She loved Sam, and after the divorce, she was with you two almost every day after school.

As a favor to you one time, she attended one of the schools PTA meetings. You had to stay late at your office but you wanted to make sure you didn’t miss anything important, so she went for you. While she was there she struck up a conversation with one of the single dads in attendance. You didn’t know much about him other than that his name was Jason and he was always really sweet to everyone.

You would describe him as a little dorky, but in a good way. Anna definitely took a liking to him, and the pair had even gone on a few dates. Since then the three of you had gotten to be good friends. Anna wanted things to be more serious between the two of them though, so she planned this camping trip, freaked out at the last moment, and then begged you to come with them.

“Alright, I’ll go. But I’m telling Sam to call you if he needs anything while I’m gone alright?”

“Of course! Of course, Aunty Beth always has time for the little bug...who’s probably getting tired of me calling him that.. Anyway, I’m proud of you. You’ll have a great time.”

You didn’t know about a great time, but it would be nice to get out of the house.

At the end of the week, you picked Sam up from school and drove him to his dads house. Before you dropped him off, he made sure to assure you that he would be perfectly fine. Of course you believed him.

You still had some packing to do, Anna was on her way to your house now. She pulled up with the entire back seat of her car filled to the brim.

“Y/n! Are you ready for this?” She seemed to be trying to act excited to cover the fact that she was a little worried about all of this.

“I am! It’s going to be great. Don't worry, If anything ever gets too serious for you, just let me know and I’ll dull the romantic mood. I’m great at being a third wheel so--”

“Third wheel, what do you mean third wheel? Fourth wheel.” She looked at you like you were crazy. Only before realizing she had forgotten to fill you in on some pertinent details of the trip.

“Ohh shit.” She brought her hands to her hips then, “I didn’t want you to feel weird, and then the other day in the office, you know that guy, the hot one. His desk is two desks to the left and one forward of your office door? You know.”

“Henry?” You asked, really hoping she wasn’t about to say what you thought she was.

“Yeah, you know. He over heard me on the phone with Jason, talking about how we were all going camping.”

“That’s weird he heard you.” You said dramatically. “You sit right across from him, so weird.”

“Okay yes, yeah he heard me and then, very nosily if I may add, asked if we’d picked a campsite. And the answer was no, none of us know shit about camping. But then he said he used to camp a lot and he knew of a really beautiful place and one thing lead to another and Invited him and both him and Jason are meeting us at the campsite.”

“Hmm.” Was all you could say. 

After Anna came inside and helped you pack, the two of you hit the road. Apparently Henry sent her the directions to the site. Seattle was a beautiful place to be in nature, and you really had no reason to be upset about anything, so you decided you’d try a little optimism to start the trip.

“Do you know anything about Henry? I mean, I’ve seen him around the office, maybe said hi a few times but not much more than that.”

Anna fiddled with the radio as she drove. “I know he has a childlike crush on you. Oh! Okay and he’s actually been in a few movies before! It was when he was younger though, he said he quit because he liked creating the stories rather than acting in them. Isn’t that beautiful, God he’s hot.”

“What do you mean a crush, Anna?” 

She looked over at you and waved you off. “I don’t know for sure, I’ve caught him looking at you like a few times, he asks questions sometimes. I don't know, you’re his boss so it’s not that weird he would have questions.”

Henry started working at the publishing company a few months ago. As assistant editor, you never really spoke with him very much, you did recall working on a few of his scripts, and if you remember correctly, they were actually really good.

The drive was less than an hour. It was a little off the beaten track, but Henry had been right, it was absolutely beautiful. As you pulled up you saw only one other vehicle. 

“Did they drive together?” You asked.

“Yeah, Jason met Henry at his house and drove with him. He thought it would be good to get to know him on the drive up.” Anytime Anna ever talked about Jason a silly smile formed on her face. It made you happy to see her happy.

After grabbing your bags, you walked a few yards when you saw a clearing. Jason and Henry had already set up both of their tents from the look of it. Jason was working on the fire when the two of you approached.

“Anna, Y/n! You made it.” His eyes lit up as he walked over to Anna and placed a kiss to her cheek.

Then to your surprise, he came over and gave you a hug which you returned.

“How’s Sam doing? Good? Is he enjoying Soccer?”

“He is, yes. He’s great. Thank you for asking.” You said with a fond smile. That was Jason, probably the sweetest person you knew.

“Henry, he’s great. He’s down by the stream, wanted to check it out he said. Real cool guy.” His man-crush was showing.

Him and Anna resumed trying to get the fire started. You thought you’d head down to the stream to introduce yourself formally to Henry. You could hear it before you saw it. Everything was breathtaking, and you were suddenly really glad you came.

Off a little ways from your site you saw Henry. He stood on the bank as he tossed stones into the river. He turned when he heard you approaching, an unnecessarily beautiful smile graced his lips.

“Y/n. You made it.” 

You smiled as you settled in next to him, looking out over the water. “It’s nice to officially meet you Henry. Its great you could come. None of us know too much about camping.”

“Oh, I’m sure you know more than you’re letting on.” He glanced towards you, his eyes on you making you a little anxious.

“I’m happy to help you set up your tent though.”

“Oh, right. That would be great.” You said gratefully.

When he said he would help, what he really meant was he would do it for you. Which you appreciated. You also didn’t mind watching him as he did.

“So, tell me about this kid of yours.” 

He clarified when he saw you looked caught off guard, “Anna told me, you have a son right?”

“Oh, of course. Yeah, his names Sam. Amazing kid really. He’s uh, with his dad this weekend.”

You didn't know why you told him that, but it seemed like something you should say.

“You two separated?” He asked.

“Yeah, two years now.”

He didn’t respond for a second as he struggled with one of the tent poles. “Me too.”

“You were married? Any kids?”

He shook his head as he hammered down the last peg. “No, just married.”

After being married and going through a divorce, it was easy for you to talk about things like this. It was the new normal.

“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

Henry watched you as he walked towards the stump you were sitting on and sat next to you. “I was really young, we both were I guess. We didn’t know what we were doing, what love even was.”

You stared forward as he talked. His voice was soft but deep. Easy to listen to.

“I understand that. My ex and I, well after Sam, we thought it wasn’t fair for him to grow up in a house with parents who didn’t love each other in that way. So I guess it was just as much for him as it was for us.”

“Divorce sucks, but it sounds like it was the best thing for you.” He looked over at you, your shoulders rubbed against each other a little. 

When you looked back at him you started to laugh.

“Jesus, it’s so nice to meet you, let me tell you my deepest secrets.”

He laughed at that. “I couldn’t stop myself. I looked in your eyes and I just-- couldn’t help it.”

From across the sight, you saw Anna and Jason approaching from one of the paths.

“You two look like you’re having fun!” She said, taking a seat next to you.

“There are some amazing hiking trails up here Henry. Great pick.” Jason chimed in.

“Well thank you. I’d be be happy to show you guys some more if you’re up for it?”

Henry looked to you for an answer, but you felt antsy under his gaze so you looked to Anna who was lounged out on the ground. She had never been one for hiking.

“God, no, we just got back from a hike. Let’s go tomorrow.”

If Anna said so, that was the plan, and that was what you loved about her. It was starting to get dark anyway so you also thought it best to stay near the camp. Now was Jason’s time to remind you all why he was here and showcase his “outdoor cooking skills” as he called them. 

The other three of you enjoyed the warmth of the fire and broke out the alcohol that you and Anna had been sure to pack.

“Pick your poison.” Anna held up a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other.

You figured either would taste good in hot coco so you reached towards the whiskey, seemingly at the same time as Henry.

“Great minds think alike.” You said, letting him take the bottle. You had your hot coco in hand, waiting for him to pour some in.

He smiled up at you and filled the rest of your cup before pouring it in straight to his. 

“Jesus Henry, take it easy. You’re our only hope of survival if we get stranded out here.” Anna said with a look of worry on her face.

From across the fire Jason looked at Henry. “She’s absolutely right. And I’m not even offended.”

You all laughed at his comment. And after a few drinks of whiskey, you were all laughing at really anything anyone said. 

Just as promised, Jason cooked up an amazing meal. Just in time to keep you all from feeling too drunk.

You spent dinner telling stories, talking about work. Even about yours and Jason’s kids. Anytime you talked, you noticed Henry turn towards you as much as he could and give you his full attention, just that small thing had you starting to swoon. And on top of that, Anna was so right, he was hot.

It was dark, but a full moon lit the world around you. Anna had chosen the vodka,  and she was on a whole other level when she was drunk.

She got that look in her eye before looking over to you and saying, “We should go for a swim.”

“Right now?” You said, a questioning smile on your face.

“Yes right now. Let’s all go.”

You were a little tipsy, just enough to actually want to. It was unusually warm tonight, and your muddled thoughts couldn't find any reason to say no.

You looked over to Henry who was watching you two with a lazy smile on his face.

“Is it safe?” You asked.

He liked that you asked.

“Of course. I say we go.”

That was all it took for the four of you to clumsily jog down to the bank where Anna had no problem stripping out of her pants and treading into the water.

“OH FuCk!.”

Jason laughed as he lifted his shirt over his head and followed in after her.

“Is it cold?” You yelled from the side.

“No it’s fine.” She was lying.

Beside you Henry lifted his own shirt above his head and said, “I’ll go in if you do.”

“Mmm, yeah okay.”

You stripped out of your pants but left your shirt on.

The moment your feet touched the water you regretted it, but Henry grabbed your hand and tugged you along with him.

“Come on Y/n. I got you.”

Jason and Anna were a little more than waist deep now, giggling and splashing at each other like children. Henry continued pulling you until you were both in a little deeper than your chest.

You began to shiver, not able to keep your arms out the water any longer.

“You alright?” He asked, concern in his voice.

“I’m okay, yeah.” You laughed through a shiver, the alcohol’s affect beginning to wear off but definitely still there. 

After a few minutes your body started to get used to the cold. It was a beautiful night. You took a deep breath and took in the night air as you shifted onto your back and let yourself float on top of the water. Everything went quiet as your ears sunk just below the surface.

You stared up at the stars and swore you could stay like this forever. Calm, quiet, happy.

Henry watched you as a contentedness settled over your features. It seemed like his eyes would always wander to you each time he saw you in your office, or when you walked off the elevator in the morning, when you would sit at your desk late, after everyone had left. But now, with you right in front of him, he understood why. He watched as you looked up at the stars, wonder in your eyes, and he knew exactly what you felt, as he looked at you.

He took to his back next to you, letting his hands drift over to yours. His fingers caressed yours in the water. Every time they incidentally touched, you relished in their warmth. 

“I wish I could live up there. It’s beautiful.” You said slowly.

He smiled knowingly and let his finger almost intertwine with yours. 

“I know.”

The next morning you woke up to the sound of birds chirping. As best you could, you got dressed in your tent and got out. Anna had woken up at the same time as you.

“Hey beautiful, how’d you sleep?” She said drowsily, coming over to you and resting her head on your shoulder.

“Just fine, You?” She knew the question in your voice was about sharing a tent with Jason.

“Like a baby.” She smiled up at you just as Jason and Henry came towards the camp from the lake.

As he approached, you noticed the warm smile on his face was pointed right at you.

“Morning ladies.” 

He walked over to with his hands in his pockets. In the warm light of day he looked a little more nervous than he had last night. He stood next to you, close enough for you to feel him kinda bump into you.

“You want some coffee?” He watched you nod yes and poured you a cup from the thermos. 

“Thanks.” 

“What say we head out on that hike now? Henry and I found an amazing trail to take.”

Anna and Jason walked ahead of you hand in hand. The hike was an easy one. Full of gorgeous landscape. 

You hung back with Henry, who let the hand closest to you hang down at his side.

“Tell me about your acting.” You asked, trying to find a way to fill the suggestive silence.

“Sure. I acted in a few movies when I was young, 17--18. It was a world of it’s own. Met a lot of people, went a lot of places.”

“Is that where you met your wife?” You glanced over at him for a moment before looking back down at your footing.

“It is actually. She worked on the set of the last movie I did. What about you and uh--”

“Connor? We met at a mutual friends party. We dated a year before getting married, two years after that we had Sam.”

“The silver lining.” 

That made you smile. “Exactly.”

When you looked up at him, you lost track of where you were stepping, causing you to step down onto the wrong side of a branch and lose your balance.

Henry tried to grab you before you hit the ground, but you fell forward, scraping your knee against a rock as you did.

“Oh, shit.” You yelled, gripping your now bleeding knee.

Henry was next to you in a heart beat.

“Are you alright?” He had a panic in his voice as he leaned over towards the leg you were holding.

“Mmmyeah I’m okay.”

Your face told a different story, so did your knee, which you could feel sticking to your pants with blood. The fall ripped a hole where you hit, and Henry reached towards it.

“Can I take a look?” 

You nodded and he carefully tore the fabric of your jeans at the knee, revealing the bloodied cut across your knee.

“Shit.” 

“It’ll be fine but I should clean it up so it doesn't get infected.”

You were less than half a mile away from camp so you figured you would just walk, but as you tried to get up, Henry picked you up in his arms and started carrying you back.

“What the fuck?” You said, caught by surprise as he did.

“Don’t worry about it Y/n. I got you.” He smiled a little and just kept on walking, in spite of your multiple request to walk yourself.

“To tell you the truth, this was my plan all along.” He joked. This was the first time you’d ever been this close to him, and he happened to be holding you in his arms on top of that.

“Wait for you to hurt yourself and then hold you in my arms like any hero would.”

You laughed as you tried not to turn your face to his, which was inches away. “What if I would of sprained my wrist or something, then what?” You said.

“Still would of carried you.” He laughed, “It was just the right thing to do Y/n.”

You were beginning to like the way he said your name.

When you got back to camp, he set you down on stump and jogged to his truck to get his first aid kit.

He pulled out a small bottle of Saline and poured it over the wound. You closed your eyes as he poured it, making him grin when he caught you.

“You okay?” He asked, wiping away the blood and wrapping it with a bandage.

“All good. Thank you, Henry. My hero.” You said with a smirk.

He still had his hands resting around your knee, his eyes found yours and held them for a moment. He started to move towards you slowly, but you stood and hobbled towards your tent, leaving Henry kneeling on the ground.

“I’m sorry Y/n. I shouldn’t--”

“No you, don’t need to apologize. I’m just--I haven’t really..”

He held his hand out towards you, “I understand, you don’t need to explain yourself Y/n.”

He was still just as sincerely kind as he’d been since you met him. And the last thing you wanted was for him to think you weren’t interested.

“I, just need a little time, is all.”

That brought a lighthearted smile to his face.

“Take your time. I can wait for now.”

The blissful weekend ended far sooner than you wanted it too, The minute you got back within cell service you called Sam, who as you expected, had been just fine.

He asked about your weekend, and you were happy you had good news. 

When it came to things with Henry, you couldn’t just think about yourself anymore. You wanted to be sure about him before letting him into your lives, you weren’t even sure if thats what he wanted.

You walked off the elevator on Monday morning not expecting anything. You looked towards his desk and saw Henry focused in on something on his computer screen. Thats when It started to feel like that weekend was a dream.

You dropped your stuff underneath your desk and pulled out the last few scripts you needed to finish by the end of the week. You thought you only had three left, but there was a fourth sitting on top of the stack. 

“Unfinished” was the name of it, and below that was the authors name: Henry Cavill.

You only had to read through the first few pages to realize the premise was about two star-crossed lovers who literally crossed the stars together. He only had about a dozen pages of writing so far. The last page ended with the two main characters about to kiss before the last words which were, “and I don't know where it’ll go from here, still working on it.”

From outside your office Henry must have noticed you’d read his script first because when you looked up, he had his head down in his notes, but an ever expanding smile on his lips.

That night when you left the office, you ended up in the elevator with Henry beside you. 

"Can I have your honest opinion on my story?” He said, breaking the silence.

“I think...you need to finish it.”

He looked over at you, trying to decipher the look on your face, apparently failing.

“I’m not very good at this anymore Y/n.” His answer caught you off guard.

“Good at what?” You said, turning towards him with an innocent look on your face.

“I’m just going to ask, you’ve left me no other choice really. Can I kiss you? And that’s that. I said it, out loud,” You began to laugh as he continued to ramble. “Do I regret how lame I just sounded? Absolutely, but you are too pretty for me to know what the hell I’m doing.”

“You can--kiss me, that is.” You said as non awkwardly as you could.

But Henry wasted no time before placing his hand at your jaw and leaning down into your kiss. 

You held your breath at contact, it was brief and charming at the same time. He seemed to be just as nervous as you were. 

When it ended, he pulled back, hand still holding the side of your face. Neither of you said anything but you both felt something you knew you’d been looking for for a very long time. 

You walked out into the brisk night air and it took you back to the night under the stars with him. His hand hung loosely next to yours, grabbing onto your fingers every once and awhile. 

“Where does our story go from here.” He asked, a playful hopefulness in his voice.

“No one can say, but I’m willing to follow it as far as it will take us, if you are.”

He watched you, wanting nothing more in that moment than to taste you on his lips again. But instead of that, he lifted your hand to his lips and placed a kiss to  the back of your hand and said, “I’ll follow you anywhere Y/n.”

Tag List: @jaderbugz @a-girl-who-loves-disney @chillnadia @pietrosprincess @cojootromuelle @smexy-bucky-waifu  @maragaretcarter  @supersleepyfangirlthings  @shortstoryimagines  @omg-fuck-i-love-you  @thebutterflyxx  @posiemax @tomhollambucky @samdean-67

[metuere-now-exspiritment]

Join the resistance. Call Spirit.

So the phone rings, like it always does, and she picks up, like she always does, and says, only somewhat ironically, “Thank you for calling the resistance, this is Spirit speaking. How can I help you?”

“Look here, motherfucker, I don’t know what has finally snapped in that puny little pseudo-brain of yours, but you’re fucking impressing me with your stupidity--you have surpassed all human expectations for the dumbest piece of shit alive--you are so ridiculously awful at being alive, it’s a miracle you haven’t choked to death on your own breathing, and thank fucking God for the day that finally fucking happens--”

She hangs up.

Not three seconds later, the burner phone starts buzzing again, some mockery of an ambivalent ringtone that vibrates expectantly in her hand. Spirit glances around helplessly, almost hoping to make eye contact with someone who will understand this pit in her stomach that makes it difficult to move or think or breathe--but nobody looks. It’s just a phone to them, after all. 

She misses the second call. When the ringing begins for a third time, she hurries down the street and back to the relative safety of her apartment. The phone won’t stop ringing. He’s called five times, now, and this is when she finally decides to pick up.

“It’s been ten years, kiddo. Did you know that? Did you really know that? Can you even count that fuckin’ high? Can you stay grounded in the real goddamn world long enough to know that time passes linearly? I really fuckin’ doubt it, kiddo, because this takes the absolute fuckin’ cake of absolutely insane shit I ever thought I’d see you do.”

“I used to think you were out to get us. Like, with them. I thought your ghosts were the people in charge of the people we killed, and I thought you were feeding them information so they could beat us while we were down. Do you understand that, old sport? Do you understand why I wanted you dead and why I left you there? I thought you were the bad guy, kiddo. I thought you had us on strings. Isn’t that so fucking ridiculous, old sport? Because you are dumber than dumb could fuckin’ be.”

She hangs up.

Somewhere past the point of crying, there’s the nausea, and the bloodless face, and the dizziness. Somewhere past that point is crying again. Spirit is aware of the fact that she entered the apartment but didn’t have the chance to move anywhere further than the kitchen; it’s here she falls, knees suddenly useless, and begins to sob.

The phone rings. It rings. It rings. She doesn’t know if it’s him calling or if she can’t stop hearing the last five minutes in some monstrous echo of an even worse version of his words. 

Courage fails, hands shake; her words and her cruel, cold stare are all forgotten as the tile floor chills her bones and she struggles to find air, thinking how that would just be fucking perfect, choking on her own breath, all alone, a house too big for her tears and her lonliness and her stupidity teetering on delusional.

The door opens--in some vague sense of that concept. The door is slammed into and splintered and, eventually, allows her a person to enter. Kind of like a door does, when it’s opened, with torque and a handle and perhaps some knocking. 

“You saw that, right, kiddo? You got that?” There’s no time to think before hands are in her hair and pulling her up until her feet dangle helplessly, like a root vegetable being plucked from the soil. 

Harris stands a foot and a half taller than her. Neither of them have cut their hair for ten years; he’s practical enough to keep his up, accenting a hardened jaw and steely brown eyes. He reeks of sweat and soy sauce; she can hear his dead father and his dead comrades and dead boys from the city killed on accident or for money. She’s annoyed by this--but somewhat impressed. She wonders if he stopped at a casual Chinese joint before breaking into her house, or if he joined a gang just to find her and kill her.

He brings their faces unnecessarily close together; his teeth are gritted in a snarl that makes her wonder how he hasn’t crushed his own mouth. “I found you so goddamn easily, kiddo,” he growls. “All I had was a name and a phone number and this vague idea of you at eight years old. Now, kiddo, now everybody knows your name, and a phone number you’ll answer, and the fact that you’re either enhanced or stupid enough to openly support a revolutionary cause. Now, at first, I think, of course. It’s a trap. It’s a fuckin’ trap. She gets the punk mutants to call her and meet her and then she wipes ‘em out, the tricky fuckin’ bitch. But then--”

His hands go from her hair, to her cheeks, to under her jaw. He holds her effortlessly by the shoulders; runs his fingertips down her arms, extending them and holding her by the fingertips. She feels, for all intents and purposes, like she’s floating in midair. He can’t believe she’s real, that she’s so scrawny and dirty and rough around the edges and yet, inexplicably, alive. 

He doesn’t know how to admit that his escape from hell was made possible by her ghost stories, or that he saw her terror-stricken eyes and desperate resistance when somebody tries to drag her back into solitary. He doesn’t know how to tell her what it looked like, to see her with her tiny fists stabbing her creators and interrogators with scalpels until their eyes dripped down their cheeks. He doesn’t know how someone could fake that kind of trauma, that indignant fury. He feels it too familiarly to ignore it. He is also not stupid enough to tell her any of this.

“But then I thought, Spirit has never been strong enough to do anything on her own. She’s needed people like me and Burns to keep her alive. So what I’ve decided is that some politico hotshot’s got you wrapped around his fuckin’ finger, and you’re essentially a glorified receptionist for someone who can, y’know, break brick walls or commit mass arson.”

When Harris was younger, he relied on physical violence to hone his cruelty, sharp as a blade. She’s stunned he’s become better than that.

“And since I’m not the biggest idiot on Earth like you, I realize that powerful people like that, they don’t keep their receptionists. They don’t treasure the little pieces in big games. This guy, he’s got connection. He knows a lot, and hates, one of the most powerful men alive, and he’s keepin’ tabs on all of the powerful people in the area. This powerful guy, he puts people like you out there to save his own skin. He’d do anything to keep it like that. Shit, I bet he’d send you right back to where we came from just to save his ass when all this comes crashing down. Going public like this means that you’re not only someone else’s bitch, but also that the people who made us can pluck you out of society in one fuckin’ second, and the powers that be won’t bat an eye. Do you think about that, old sport? Do things like that find their way into your brain? Or are you too busy talking to dead grandmas and crying ‘cause I broke your poor fuckin’ arm?”

“You never made me cry, Harry.” And to prove it, she grins her grin of invincibility in childhood, even as his fingers dig into her arms hard enough to make her immediately wonder if something is swollen or sprained. “Where’s Burns, Harry? Where’s Juni? I wanted to see them.” She can’t mock herself flippantly  enough to hide how desperate the request really is.

He smiles maliciously, thinly. He says nothing. He thinks of the small house in the suburbs where he lives with Juniper, Burns, and Lila, providing them like a patriarch is supposed to, keeping them safe and keeping them loyal, like a general is supposed to do. He thinks about how two years ago, Burns finally stopped saying Spirit’s name.

His silence makes her falter, but she continues, at least comfortable with the fact, acquired through her radio signals, that he hasn’t killed them. “And I know you think you’re, like, insanely smart, but you don’t know shit about what’s been happening in the real world. You think I’m fucking crazy, I mean--holy shit. Listen to yourself. You’re writing a fucking Die Hard, GI Joe, whatever the fuck movie just to keep yourself looking superior. It’s not like that--”

She grunts when he finally drops her, but now that she’s found the courage to speak, it’s easy to maintain a level stare. It only infuriates him further. Some things never change. 

“That’s real fuckin’ cute, kiddo. Real, real fuckin’ cute. But I need you to listen to me, and I need you to try your best to comprehend me--”

Subconsciously, she had taken steps away from him once her feet were on the ground. Now he grabs her wrist and decreases this distance--and, while he’s at it, twists something the wrong way and pauses his threat briefly long enough to let the snap echo. Her heavy, frantic breathing fills the room until he’s satisfied enough with her response, with her dangling arm, to speak again.

“You know what I was made to do. You know what I’ve already done. If you tell anybody, resistance or whoever the fuck, that the four of us exist--and we exist, by the way, and we-are-thriving--”

She gasps in pain, as if his statement, uttered with such relish, hurts as much as her broken wrist.

“--I will find you. Like I have already done. I will rip your bones out of your skin, and I will stab you to death with them, and I will leave it in Times fuckin’ Square. I’ll take pictures. I’ll show one to Burns. You know what he’ll do? Jack shit, old sport.”

She uses her good hand to shove him, her two good legs to kick at his knees and stomach and groin, all of the sudden beating wildly with both of her arms at any part of his body she can find. She hits him because he allows it. He steps back because he chooses to. The blows don’t make him flinch, or retaliate, or grimace in pain. He smiles like she has smiled. He tousles her tangled hair, for old time’s sake, and leaves her on the kitchen floor exhausted and weeping.

[b-does-the-write-thing]

400 Followers Prompt: Check Please!verse- Gold makes good on his promise to show Belle the world starting with a visit to Baelfire Whiskey Distillery. Cue Neal not so subtly asking his dad if Belle can be his new stepmom while Gold contemplates drowning his son in his own whiskey. (Also: as a purely selfish request since I am Swanfire trash if you could work in some subtle hint of Swanfire I would love you even more than I already do!)

(Prefacing this with I didn’t get a chance to work Swanfire in it as the previous chapters had mentioned Emma was about 4 in this verse- but I worked swanfire into most of the others which that’s my apology.

It’s funny how fast things change.

Belle adjusted her sunglasses, which had been slowly slipping off her nose in the Floridian heat. The large sign on the old brick building was spelled out in large oaken letters, Baelfire Whiskey Distillery. The establishment looked more like a modest storefront than the hottest spot in town.

Gold’s hand went to the small of her back, a reassuring gesture for both of them. “Everything all right?” Gold murmured. She offered him a nod and the best smile she could muster in return. As nervous as she was, he was just as tense if not more.

“You okay?” Belle asked him in return as she leaned into him. HIs body relaxed a fraction though she did not linger. She was in a summer skirt and breezy blouse and already unpleasantly damp. Gold, as usual in his three piece suit, barely looked bothered.

It was…interesting to date one of the richest men in North America. Belle’s quiet life had gone from day dreaming about could have beens, managing the town’s small library and being the proverbial third wheel to…

To being happy.

That’s what it really boiled down to, even on the days when Gold was being an absolute beast. As executive officer and main board member for Golden Rum, he traveled far more than Belle had realized, which meant the early stages of their relationship had taken place via long distance phone calls, Skype sessions and a memorable text conversation that gotten wildly, wonderfully out of hand.

Sometimes he was the knight in shining armor, showing up at the library when she had thought he was in Seattle, with her favorite burger from the west coast and a bottle of champagne, and they had picnics in the stacks.

Other times, he was the opportunistic dragon, his lips curled in disdain at her choice at the movie theatre, even as his fingers disappeared under her skirts in the semi-darkness. She had yet to actually really watch any of the movies she had wanted to go see, too distracted to do much more than grip her popcorn bucket as she tried not to squirm in her seat.

Mostly, he was just Gold: a business owner, a father, and a person like everyone else. She was crazy about him, from the way his eyes crinkled when he was trying not to smile or the way he moaned  her name when she was on her knees, but mostly just the way he loved her in return. Fully, completely and deeply.

His son was the most important thing in the world to him, even over his company. Gold was fiercely protective of his only child. “He’s had a rough time of it,” he had said the one time Belle had asked. “I try…I try to make sure he has the space he needs to be his own man.”

Which was why Belle was as surprised as anyone when Gold had invited her to Tallahassee to meet his son, and why she was sweating bullets in the Florida heat. Steeling herself, Belle asked, “Ready?”

Gold nodded, and took the first step towards the building. Belle had barely moved when the front door flew open and a man emerged from the building. Neal, for who else could have that Gold’s exact look of amused exasperation, leaned up against the building as they approached, the air conditioning wafting over them from the open doorway.

“Neal,” Gold said formally, nodding his head in polite greeting.

The young man’s face split into a wide grin and he launched himself into the older man’s arms, nearly knocking them both over. “You’re late!” he said as he pulled away with a grin.

Neal was a hair taller than his father, though his frame was more muscular. They had the same coloring though their features did not resemble each other. “He has his mother’s looks,” Gold had told her once when he had shown her a childhood photo. Standing there, Belle had to agree. Neal took after his mother in looks, but he was his father’s son. As he turned to her, the same calculating look danced through his eyes though it was quickly replaced with a softer expression. “Belle,” he greeted. “So glad you could make it.”

“Thank you for having me,” Belle replied as she stepped forward to shake his hand. “I know you don’t get to see each other too often, but Robert insisted…”

At the casual use of his father’s first name, Neal’s eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch. “Well, if Robert insisted,” he said with a smugly satisfied grin, another expression of his father’s. “Come in, come in,” he said as he hurried towards the door. “We aren’t open on Mondays,” he said in explanation of the empty building. “I like to give the whole staff one day off every week and then they can choose their other days as fits their schedule.”

Neal took them through the distillery, showing them the equipment, the bar, the patio out back before they ended back in his office with samplers on the table. Belle sipped at her flight of whiskey, having been too nervous to eat before they had arrived and now regretting that. The two men were talking easily, comparing business model plans and notes on expansion.

“Eh,” Neal said with a shrug as he sat back in his chair. “I’m not sure if I want to expand outside of Florida.”

“The bottles you sent me did very well in the market,” Gold told him without missing a beat.

Neal’s face darkened though his tone did not change. “You mean the bottles I specifically sent to you to enjoy? The ones clearly marked not for resale or testing?”

Gold’s shoulders twitched back as he rose to the challenge.  “Son-”

Hoping to cut off the oncoming disagreement,, Belle leaned forward. “It was actually my fault,” she interjected. ““One of my friend’s owns some businesses in Storybrooke and Robert had agreed to a rum tasting event there one evening that was incredibly successful. When my friend heard you owned a whiskey distillery…”

“It was a private event,” Gold told his son. “However, a few other business approached me with inquiries into how to get in contact with you for some out of state sales opportunities. I told them I would discuss with you at a later date.”

Neal did not respond for a moment but then let out a long whistle. “Well, Belle,” he said, crossing his legs onto the desk in front of him. “You’ve seen my father’s empire at work. What would you recommend?”

Startled at being addressed so frankly, Belle took a moment to think. Gold had told her enough about Neal’s childhood to hear the real question. “Honestly?” she asked as Gold’s lip twitched in amusement. She smothered her own instinctive smile, the private joke she was incapable of being anything but honest a running one between them. “You have a great product. From what I understand, you aren’t interested in partnering with Golden Rum, which means you would have to put in the legwork to network and sell. “

Legwork that had taken his father the first fifteen years of Neal’s life. Gold had misses his son’s first steps, his first word, every parent teacher meeting and countless other small and large moments in his son’s life…all to give him an empire, a live, a future. Unfortunately though understandably, Neal had not seen it that way. Before he had turned eight, his mother had left them both, which meant Neal grew up on his own as his father traveled, working harder and harder to make sure his son had a future. The opposite of what Neal wanted, what he routinely asked for and what he never truly received: a father.

When Neal had graduated high school, his parents had divorced, Neal changed his last name to Cassidy, and moved as far south as he could to get away from the life he had known. It had taken Gold the next fifteen years to  try and reconnect with his son. The past ten years had been happy ones, though there was still  a bit of a shadow between the two despite their hard work finding their way back to each other.

Neal nodded thoughtfully. “I may be persuaded into opening another location,” he said after a few moments. “I hear Maine’s nice.”

Across the room, Gold straightened in his chair. “Maine?”

“Storybrooke to be precise,” Neal said with a half shrug. “Maybe I’ll look into some property while I’m up for the wedding.”

Belle’s brow furrowed. “What wedding?” she asked, looking to Gold in confusion. Neal had grown up in Storybrooke, one reason Robert still lived there despite Golden Rum being headquartered in Boston, but she hadn’t realized he had kept in touch with anyone.

“Yours obviously,” Neal said as he reached for another sampler. “You two are getting married, right?”

Belle opened her mouth but nothing really came out, so she closed it again before shooting back the rest of her sample. Across the room, Gold’s hands were flexing on the head of his cane as if gripping on for dear life.

Obvious to all of this, or at least pretending to be, Neal continued. “Figured a winter wedding, something small and intimate, close friends and family…you are cutting it kind of close though,” Neal said as he peered at the calendar over his shoulder. “It’s nearly the end of July now, Papa.”

A dead silence followed this observation. Neal looked from one ot the other with a lazy smile on his face, his finger tapping against his thigh the only sound in the room. Belle recovered first. “Oh, well, we haven’t…really discussed…that,” she finished lamely.

Truly his father’s son, Neal didn’t miss a beat. “You’ve been dating for two years,” he pointed out. “You’re in love, Papa’s crazy about you, he’s already written you into the will.”

Gold winced as Belle tried to process this new development. “You what?” she asked

“I was going to tell you-” he started but he didn’t get the chance to finish.

“I told you how I feel about that!!” Belle exclaimed in embarrassment. “I am not dating your company or your money, and I don’t need a safety net or a just in case fund, I need you so don’t you dare even be thinking of dying!”   She had realized she had stood but both men were now looking up at her, one in sheepish embarrassment and the other as if he was watching a spectacle. “And you!” she said spinning to Neal. “All joking aside, our relationship is our own affair and I would thank you very much to be respectful about our decisions.”

Neal nodded. “True, but if you got married, you’d be my stepmother.” Belle’s stomach dropped a bit at this, though Neal’s smile was still warm.  “As it is, you stand to inherit a large portion of my father’s stocks, almost as much as I would inherit.”

“You disowned your inheritance,” Gold reminded his son.

“Most of it,” Neal agreed with a grin. “Not all. I ended up with Milah’s.”

“Your mother,” Gold said through clenched teeth,” did not like you using her name like that.”

“Then she shouldn’t have run off with that Navy asshole when I was seven,” Neal shot back.

Belle, sensing the heightening tension, stepped back into the breach. “I love your father,” Belle said sharply to Neal. “And I plan to spend the rest of my life with him.”

It was if a bomb had been defused. Neal’s entire frame relaxed and he smiled smugly up at her. “See,” he said, craning his neck around her to grin at his father. “Told ya.”

“Told him what?” Belle said in confusion. “He knows I love himi.”

Neal stood to gather the empty glasses scattered around his desk. “Oh, sure he knows, but for the life of us, we couldn’t convince him you actually wanted to settle down with him.”

Belle spun on her heel to see Gold glaring daggers at his son. “You didn’t think I wanted to be with you?” she asked, a quiet kind of hurt bubbling up in her chest. “Robert…”

Gold stood so fast, he wobbled slightly. Belle jumped forward and he seized her hand in his, so tightly his pulse beat against her own. “Sweetheart,” he said fiercely, his eyes gleaming hazily from the whiskey and heightened emotion. “I’m nearly twice your age. I- I couldn’t ask you to- to-”

“To marry the man I love?” Belle finished for him. “To be by your side in sickness and health? Through better or worse?” She shook her head at him in disbelief. “I’m not going anywhere you idiot,” she said with a ragged laugh. “You’re stuck with me.”

“You want…want to marry me?” he said as if he couldn’t believe his own ears. At some point, Neal had left the room but neither of them had noticed.

Belle blinked, having been so caught up she hadn’t realized exactly what she had just proposed.

“Well, yes,” she said. “I do.”

As it turned out, Gold did too.

That January, Neal stood by his father’s side as best man, and the wedding was held in the future site of the Baelfire Whiskey Distillery in Storybrooke, Maine

-

.

[waddlesdpig]

The Lego Movie Franchise Retrospective ( Or how to build Masterpieces)

The following is a opinionated review on the “ Lego Movie” franchise as a whole, spoilers and bad jokes ahead.

Its kinda crazy if we’re being honest here, in the five years since it’s creation the “ Lego Movie “ franchise has made close to a billion dollars domestically and probably more than that total internationally. All for what is essentially a series of really long commercials, albeit very entertaining and ( mostly) heartfelt commercials. No matter how you look at it however, these films on a whole have been a grand success worthy of artistic recognition ( WB has left chat).

This trend of profitably praised pictures seems sure to continue, with the soon to be released fourth installment in the “ Lego Movie” franchise “ The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part.” 

( A sentence as redundant as me writing reviews on Tumblr.)

As a lover of the original “ Lego Movie” this sequel comes like the missing brick in my Lego heart set that i didn’t know existed. In that same breath however, i can’t help but feel anxious over how the movie will turn out. Early reviews have skewed favorably for the film and yet there is a disturbing trend in the Lego franchise that one cannot ignore. Each Lego Movie has had diminishing returns in terms of quality ever since the first. 

Don’t get me wrong, the animation, production, and voice work for has been ( mostly) top notch for every installment. No when i mean quality, i’m talking about the strength of each films script and the way they are constructed. This problem is far more reaching than the common “ It wasn’t as funny as the first” comment one might make concerning the latter two Lego movies. Although i would be remiss to suggest that the humor isn’t itself a issue. 

“ The Lego Movie” is filled to the brim with weird wacky comedy that still holds up five years later, but is coupled with satisfying storytelling that complements the silliness. Out of everything that could have been taken away from that original film the sequential Lego flicks focus is firmly placed on the hijinks and shenanigans. Much like a child who stacks his Legos as high as he can without any regard to building a solid foundation, Lego Batman ( to a lesser extent) and Ninjago lives or dies on the strength of it’s humor, often times tumbling because of that fact. So to help illustrate my point i would like to go back to the beginning and exam why each film worked or failed.

THE LEGO MOVIE

Out of all the things this film is praised for, the animation, the comedy, the amazing cast, i hardly ever hear anyone talking the story structure. While nothing shakespearean, Phil Lord and Christopher Miller masterfully employ the monomyth ( or hero’s journey) to lay the emotional foundation for the film, using it quite literally to a T’. 

After setting the movies conflict into motion with the “ Piece of Resistance” and the “Krangle” we flash forward 8 1/2, enter Emmet Brickowski, your average abnormally normal citizen of Lego City Bricksburg where everything is honky dory. Following him throughout his day we come to find that Emmet is so average that he has fallen into the background of the collective consciousness of those around him. Only by chance does he comes across the Piece of Resistance literally calling him to adventure.

Now melded with the piece of legend, Emmet now bears the name “ The Special” which he is hesitant to hear at first, as he faces persecution from Lord Business forces, who is H’ E’ double hockey sticks’ bent on gluing the entire universe into place. 

Through shenanigans he teams up with local DJ Wyldstyle, warms up to the idea of being, and i quote “ the most important, most talented, most interesting, most extraordinary, mostest most person in the universe.” The two escape from his capturers and crosses the threshold, by also literally crossing into another realm. 

Duding it up in the Old West, Emmet’s lie is exposed like me on Omegle, earning him the disdain of his would be love interest. Trying to decipher next with the piece, the duo finds the wizard Virtuvius ( MVP of the film) who after finding out Emmet’s quandary determines to mentor him to be a Masterbuilder. 

More shenanigans, Batman shows up, Emmet experiences cuckolding with Bat’s and Sty’s blockholding, ( seriously this is supposed to be a family film for krangle’s sake!) they all take a road trip to cloud coo coo land, group meets “ OC do not steal” and the other Masterbuilders to come up with a plan to take down Lord Business and stop his TAKOS! Surprise surprise Bad Cop rolls up to the club and the Masterbuilders aren’t ready to jam so they get sent to the slam. Emmet and crew manage to escape only by hiding in this absolute masterpiece. 

Now beaten and bruised Emmet rallies the troops, and together as a team they set to enter the dragon’s lair that is Lord Business office building. ( Nightmare of college dropouts and unpaid interns everywhere) The story comes to a head as Virtuvius loses his, the piece of resistance is thrown into the abyss that is my grandma’s purse, all the masterbuilders are captured and Lord Business has set up an overly elaborate death trap to get these dang kids off his lawn. In this moment of despair the ghost of Virtuvius appears before Emmet assuring him that cat posters hold the secrets of the universe. Motivated Emmet bids a tearful farewell as he sacrifices himself to save the other Masterbuilders.

On the other side of the abyss, Emmet haves an out of body experience and has a face to face with the pink sausaged-eagle-squid creatures that serve as the lands God’s. It is here that he finally becomes equipped with the Ultimate Treasure: believing in yourself! Now ready to face the odds Emmet is sent Homeward Bound back to the Lego world. 

He returns, Reborn as a Masterbuilder. Emmet confronts Lord Business and stops him by extending him his hand ( claw-grip thing?) in friendship, helping Lordy realize that he doesn’t have to be bad and that in reality we are all the Special. The two reconcile and the story wraps up with the world at peace until the immediate sequel bait.

There’s a reason many a tale uses this storytelling device, when done properly it works to enact growth and change in the protagonist, resulting in a compelling and satisfying character arc. The Lego Movie not content to rely on this alone also explores “ The Chosen One” trope, as well as themes about creativity vs conformity. There is quite a surprising amount of depth once you start deconstructing this film brick by brick, something that would be sorely missed in it’s spiritual sequels.

THE LEGO BATMAN MOVIE

Without a doubt there is a lot to like about “ The Lego Batman Movie,” they managed to kick the already amazing animation up to 11, on a whole it is a very funny movie ( giving birth to probably one of my favorite scenes ever. Kazow!), and it joyfully revels in the Batman mythos and world. In addition to that, it’s story tackles a very interesting premise not often explored with the Caped Crusader. Yet in my mind, there is a distinct issue which holds the film back from being as solid as Batman’s ninepack, this being pacing in the third act.

Batman is one of the rare characters in pop culture that require almost no real introduction, as it can be assumed that most will in one way or another have some basic idea of his mythos. Using this to their advantage, the people filming choose to focus on a intrinsic part of the Dark Knight, that of lose and fear of losing. Building on “ The Lego Movie” interpretation of the character, we have here a extremely egotistical, selfish Batman who exhibits these qualities in order to close himself from anymore emotional pain. 

This is plainly stated in the first act by Alfred, “ Master Bruce, you live on an island figuratively, and literally.” It’s the same reason why he can’t admit to Joker being his greatest enemy, because even if the relationship is hateful in nature, it is still a connection to another person. So Batman’s gotta learn to open himself to others, great! A good premise and character arc that the film executes fairly well, up until the beginning of the third act.

See throughout the story we see Batman nudged and guided into becoming a better person by those around him, particularly Alfred and Barbara in the first act. Come the second act, Batman has stubbornly enacted his own plan to stop the seemingly harmless Joker, after succeeding he is berated by Barbara “ You can't be a hero if you only care about yourself.” Batman’s plan backfires giving Joker the means to unleash every villain from your local bar’s trivia night. As such Fatman rectify his mistakes by teaming up with his loves ones to make wrongs right. 

Though hesitant to the idea at first, Bats warms up to his new superhero buddies only for him to push them away as soon as he realizes their importance to him. This is where the problem of pacing really begins to show itself. After sending away the Bat-lites, Batman immediately confronts Joker, only for the Joker to recapitulate something that was just clearly shown to the audience “ I'm not your greatest enemy. Your greatest enemy is you.” 

Joker then banishes Batman to the doom dimension where he is greeted by a literal judge of right and wrong, who then plays a highlight reel showing just how big a betty batty’s been. The thing to note is this all occurs within a span of five minutes, stopping the story completely just to point at something that’s already solidly established in the story.

The real shame is that all this guilt dog-piling undercuts a great moment. In the doom dimension Bat’s gets a peek of the situation to find his friends returning to help him, there he sees Robin emulating Batman’s reckless attitude, and it is there where he is finally able to recognize the harm he’s bringing to others with his selfish actions. A moment i feel could’ve been the emotional pillar of the movie if it had been better builded towards and executed.

To be fair the movie from then on picks back up rather quickly, Batman learns his lesson, forms the “ savi-cide squad,” and in the end is able to save Lego Gotham by literally making connections with others and bringing everyone closer to each other. Capping what is undeniably, despite it’s flaws, a very fun movie. If only i could say the same about the last film here…

THE LEGO NINJAGO

The Lego Ninjago movie was always going to be in a peculiar situation, it’s branding and world aren’t well enough established in the minds of the average movie goer to solely create a story based on in-world lore. Nor is it enough of a clean slate that one could be free to do whatever it wanted if the story ala “ The Lego Movie.” And as such it creates this disjointed hodgepodge of elements borrowed from the two previous entries. This particularly can be seen through the journey of the protagonist Lloyd.

By the time the movie chooses to introduced Lloyd we are already informed that he as the Green Ninja along with the others have already time and again defeated and repelled the big bad Garmadon. In a way Lloyd as already undergone his own hero’s journey, meaning they’ve already skipped any satisfaction that could be gained from seeing a powerless boy becoming a hero and vanquishing that which threatens his home.

Bah whatever, origin stories are overdone and boring. Who’s with me?! Let’s get right into the good stuff. And to the films credit it does just that, right off the bat we are introduced to what will be the main conflict of the story, Lloyd and his relationship with his father. However here too “ The Lego Ninjago” movie stumbles. Lloyd as a character is defined solely by this conflict. During nearly the entire first act you will rarely find a scene, or piece of dialogue featuring Lloyd that will not involve Garmadon or the fact that he is Lloyd’s father in one way or another. 

But hey he’s also the leader of the Ninjas and does a great job of, uh, telling people what to do? Now let’s quickly compare how the “ Lego Batman Movie” handle this. In the opening moments of that film we spend time with Batman before the grand conflict is set into motion, we see he’s egotistical, a showboat, selfish and willfully ignorant to any flaws he might have. Having established his personality, ( what a notion) the story is able to show how that feeds into his fear letting people back in and colors his character arc for the film.

With the “ Lego Ninjago” movie failing to this, it leaves Lloyd as just sort of a blank slate with daddy issues. It’s probably why they have him from the start with a fully assembled team of fun personalities to bounce off of and carry the load of protaganizing, oh wait. Oh boy, we got Flame Fella the spiky hair one, Dirt Dude who is essentially Flame Fella, Wa Wa Womah ( she’s the water element cause she’s so good at retaining water), and the only two with any semblance of personality Jay and Zane. 

Without trying to disrespect fans of the original series, you know where they actually mattered, the other Ninjas here are little more than filler. Functionally they have no real role in the story except to bolster Lloyd’s in-world importance by making him leader, as well as holding him responsible after he unwittingly unleashes destruction upon Ninjago. Towards the start of the third act, our blockhead Ninjas haphazardly realize that all they to do was believe and only now is there any hint of development for the group. Way too little, way too late to have any significant impact on the story. 

Leaving us with the “ Father/Son” plot to essentially carry the whole film. To the movie’s credit it does a serviceable job in accomplishing this. While far from masterful, there is some satisfaction in two opposing fractions learn to work together and eventually reconcile. However even here the film fails to execute on this idea.  After spending the entirety of the second act building up this relationship between the two, Garmadon literally asks Lloyd to join him and rule the galaxy together. Green bean rejects the offer because what else would you expect him to do, and Gar once again pushes his son away from him. Less than five minutes later, the climax of the movie ends with Lloyd talking to his dad through a cat and the two finally reconcile as family.  

In this way “ The Lego Ninjago Movie” fizzles out, leaving a lackluster ending and Jackie Chan to close out an already underwhelming story. 

Finally some more miscellaneous criticisms. 

They reuse a lot of shots in the first act, Lloyd’s dragon cannon being of the more obvious examples. 

There isn’t as much effort to establish “ Ninjago” as a Lego world, often times you see Lego structures mixed with what is supposed to be natural foliage. This is a huge issue in the second act as the majority of the scenery is composed of non-Lego elements. And the stuff that isn’t Lego’s don’t look to hot, the water effects being the biggest offender in this case.  

Jackie Chan as Master Wu is probably the weakest performance in the movie, i don’t know if it’s  because of the voice director or because Jackie just wasn’t feeling the powah.

The movie’s live action intro and outro is just bad. 

But hey Garmadon has a “ Shark-Shooter” gun! 8/10 movie

CLOSING THOUGHTS

In conclusion, the thing that worries me most from the last two movies is the lack of thought and care into execution that the original “Lego Movie” had in spades. Pacing, strong character work for the whole cast, attention to story structure, all of these things have been mostly stepped on in favor of cramming as much hijinks as possible. And as a result leads to painful lackluster conclusions that try to be heartwarming but fail due to poor build up. 

As much as i sound like a negative nancy right now, with “ The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part” being helmed by the dynamic duo which created the first, i am confidant that this will be a return to form for the Lego franchise. 

Thanks for reading this monstrous mess.

[my-wretched-mind-blog]

Stranger Amongst the Strange

Walking down the busy city streets I could hear the pulse of human life all around me. I needed a break from the bustling cars and conversations of passerby’s; it was as if my prayers were answered by some merciful force of an unknown deity. I raised my head from the dirty sidewalk and saw the warm neon glow of a bar sign. The sign read in purple gothic lettering “Blood Bath” I let out a small chuckle; I was never one for themed bars around town but I was in desperate need of a stiff drink so I decided to take a chance with this curious place and stepped inside. Closing the door behind me I could smell the heavy stench of tobacco that hung in the air like a putrid phantom writhing in agony. I scanned the atmosphere of the bar and just like the sign outside it was rather dark and decrypt I felt as though I had walked into the mansion of some long dead tyrant. Dark wood floor boards were complemented nicely by the dark purple glow of the bar lights; I walked towards the bar counter as some of the other patrons shifted their gaze towards me. However, I merely received a disinterested sideways glance before they resumed their drinking. Taking a seat on a black barstool I awaited a bartender who came around surprisingly fast, “Aven’t seen you round here before stranger, you new in town?” the bartender was a pale, well built, tall bald man with a long greasy moustache. There was something about his eyes that sent chills down my spine; they seemed to practically glow and it felt as though they were peering into my vey soul. Like how a predator eyes it’s prey before the kill, “No I’ve lived in this place most of my life, never came in here before though I don’t drink much. You guys got vodka?” he chuckled and then reached under the bar counter; he pulled out an unusual bottle that looked like it belonged in a magic shop rather than a bar. There was also a shot glass which had been the only seemingly normal object I’d seen in the bar so far, “You’re gonna love this shit mate. Just trust me, I aven’t had a disappointed customer in well… a very long time let’s say.” I felt as though the barkeep could sense how unnerved I was by him, perhaps his act was to aid in the bar’s disturbing aesthetic. After taking down the shot I could feel the liquor burn as it flowed down my throat; that familiar burn was always my favorite part about vodka. It reminded me that the best things in this disgusting existence always brought you pain one way or another. “Mmm what do we have here, could it be my royal knight in armour come to sweep me away from this dull establishment?” I shifted myself on my chair to see who was talking to me, as I turned around I was absolutely stunned. Sitting across from me was a young woman in her early twenties, she was wearing black ripped jean shorts with fish net leggings. Along with a low-cut leather jacket with a shirt for some alternative metal band I wasn’t familiar with. Clasped around her neck was a choker with a small steel skull in the middle with longer than average canine teeth. Her small face was only partly visible due to her short cut midnight coloured hair obscuring one half of it, black lipstick along with gothic make-up made this woman look like something out of a horror movie. It was at this moment I realized something; her eyes were similar to the barkeep’s except there was one difference. When I stared into her eyes I felt a pulsing desire to get closer, there was something about her that just seemed so tantalizing. Looking me up and down she then said, “although your armour is extravagant. I’m much more curious about your sword, would you care to take me back to your estate so that I may receive a demonstration?” “Buy you a drink, before we go to my um… estate?” “Not only a knight but a gentleman as well? I certainly came to the Blood Bath at a good hour to find such a rare prize, that would be lovely darling.” After we finished our drinks I exited the bar with this stranger in hand, “So you wanted to head back to my place yea? Should be a shortcut through this alleyway.” She cast me a devilish smile while simply nodding in acknowledgement. As we travelled down the alleyway I could feel a knot forming in my stomach; typically I didn’t like venturing into the alleyways of the city as crime was rather high this year. To distract myself I attempted to initiate a conversation with this curious woman. “So miss, I don’t believe I actually got a name from you mine’s Carter” “You may call me Elianor.” “Never heard of an Elianor before where’s that name originate from?” “it’s very old, the name has belonged to my family for generations.” I opened my mouth to ask her something else but, before I could even begin to form my sentence I was slammed into the graffiti filled brick wall of the alley. My heart was racing Elianor and I were now inches away from each other. Her pierced gaze pierced my own as she held me up against the wall with her arm against my neck. Gently Elianor pushed her arm forward closing off my airway I gasped for oxygen however, instead of feeling the air returning to my lungs I was met with Elianor’s lips. She tasted sweeter far sweeter than any candy I could imagine as she shoved her tongue down my throat, a minute passed and she pulled away releasing me. “I didn’t come with you to answer questions now did? Oh how boring that would be, what I had in mind would have been much more enticing.” I knew this woman was dangerous now, yet I had not even the slightest instinct to run. Every nerve in my body wished to only get closer and closer to her, like a fly about to be caught in a spider’s web I was victim to her trap. She took my hand once more motioning for me to guide the way, within another few minutes we had found the back entrance to my apartment building. Stepping inside we took the stairs up to the second floor and walked up to the third floor, I approached my door and searched for my key in my jacket pocket. The cold metal against my fingers was nothing compared to the feeling of Elianor’s hand, it felt as though she had been standing in a freezer for hours. Inside my apartment I pressed my lips against hers as she pushed me past the entryway, kicking the door closed behind her. None of the lights had been turned on but I knew we had to be in the living room, she pushed me off her and I landed on the nearby couch. I thought that this was strange as there was no conceivable way she could’ve known my couch was in front of her it was almost as though she could see through the darkness. Seconds after I had been forced onto the couch I felt Elianor on top of me; she lightly kissed my neck and brought her lips up to my ear before whispering. “you have no idea how much pain I could put you through. Perhaps I should show you the danger your facing.” Before I had a chance to reply I felt her nails at my back, she dragged them down my skin causing it to bleed. The marks stung with an intensity I was unknown to, although I found myself enjoying the thought of being her mercy rather than fearing it. “You’re completely under my control at this point you foolish man, you don’t even realize it.” There was a sharp pain at my neck which seemed to only last for a moment before being replaced with a new feeling; I had begun to feel light headed and cold I could feel hot blood trickling down my neck. It wasn’t long after that when I had lost consciousness completely, when I awoke it was still late at night but I knew I was alone in my apartment. Carefully I stumbled to the bathroom; I fumbled for the light switch until I saw them flicker on. I was shocked to see my reflection in the mirror, dried blood and bite marks surrounded my neck what I found after I washed the blood off was much more disturbing. In the place of where I had felt the sharp pain were two small circular scars; my eyes were different now as well. They had the same look as Elianor’s, my skin was also much paler than it had been the night before. “what in the hell?” Just as I spoke these words I once again noticed a change in my body; I opened my mouth to see that my canines were far sharper and longer than my other teeth. ‘This has to be the work of some kind of drug Elianor put me under.’ I thought to myself. Leaving the bathroom and returning to the living room I saw a note on the coffee table visible due to the crease of light coming from the bathroom. On the note it read:

Carter,

I could’ve killed you if had so chose to however; I feel as though I want to have so more fun with you in the future so I decided to extend your life instead. Although I wouldn’t call you new state of being necessarily alive. You’re just like one of us now, you’ll feel the hunger just like we all do and sooner or later the hunter in you will feed. I wouldn’t suggest starving yourself either, the longer you decide to try and fight the more feral you’ll become. And after I gave you such a nice gift I would rather you not spoil it so early; another wise idea would be not to take more than you need. Most of our kind is ancient, wise, and cunning, but you’re new to this way you won’t survive if you attract attention to yourself. Best of luck to you in your new undeath as a vampyre.

-Elianor

That was how I became one of those devilish creatures of the night. As time passed I learned how to take advantage of the gift Elianor had bestowed upon me. I couldn’t turn myself into a bat or move at super human speed like in all those bullshit films but; I found that I possessed more strength than before I had turned. Not only this but if I focused hard enough while talking I could actually convince people into doing simple tasks such as following me home where I was able to feed. I heeded Elianor’s advice and never took more than what I required to stay sane. When I was finished with my victim; I’d load them into the back of my car and drive them out into the woods where I’d dump them with a map to the nearest gas station. This was my new reality as one of the thousands of stalkers of the living. Everyday I awaited Elianor’s return so that I could ask her what her true reasoning was for turning me that day unfortunately, has yet to come. It doesn’t bother me though thanks to her gift I now have all the time in the world to wait for my lady’s fateful return it was like she said, I’m her knight in armour awaiting her command. -MWM

[blogagog-blog1]

SATURDAY, JANUARY 30, 2010

What up, Chuck?

I'd like to be Chuck Klosterman.

Everybody does. Or the rhymee name Chuck. Or Nick Hornsby. Or Douglas Adams...you get the idea. Either someone so fucking 'I want what he's on' weird he instantly becomes interesting, or so mind numbingly normal but obsessed with minutiae that taking a shit becomes a metaphor for the meaning of life.

Which makes that person instantly interesting.

I'm not though. And more likely than not, neither are you. Of course, just like everyone else, I tell myself I am. "Dude," I whisper conspiratorially to myself, "if people could see into your mind, they'd be totally blown away by how deep and different you are." Self nods confidently. I nod back. Then we sit around and do fuck all.

In a deep and different way, of course.

There's one thing I give myself a little bit of credit for though. It's that I only try to convince myself what an unusual genius in hiding I am. If you want to be assured that someone is a douchebag with the personality of a brick of rat cheese (because personally, I figure being two things like marble cheese must count for some kind of personality, right?) all you have to look out for is this:

"I'm not your regular girl."

OR, which makes me want to straight up get to fisticuffs with a motherfucker:

"I'm totally crazy!"

FUCK you. If you're crazy, you don't know you're fucking crazy. I assure you David Koresh didn't squeal 'tee hee, I'm so crazy!' when he was having sex with one of his wives' 12 year old daughter or explaining to his followers why it's cool that Jesus is shooting at ATF agents with an automatic rifle.

See?? This started off trying to be somewhat introspective and balanced, and within a couple paragraphs has regressed into a bitch fest. And that's okay. Because I like bitching. It keeps my complexion flawless and helps me maintain a rock hard erection.

...with which, incidentally, I'd like to mushroom slap anyone who ever answers the question 'what music do you listen to?' with 'everything'. Or, worse yet, 'everything except country'. For realsies? When's the last time you took in some Indian Classical, Native Afghani music, or a sweet Korean Pop LP? I hope you choke on a moon-pie, asshole. And WITHOUT FAIL, 90% of these people will follow up this claim with a list that consists of the official TheoryOfANickelCreed collection of bands.

Well, that's not fair. They'll throw in Jay-Z to show they're down with the blacks and Coldplay to show they've got a heart and want your love.

The funny thing is, why do people not let their opposite-of-freak flag fly? God knows there're a lot more people listening to 'This is how you remind me' right now than Shakespeare My Butt (which I'd like to pretend I'm listening to because I'm the king of knowing random Canadian alt-rock, but I can't even remember how I heard about Lowest of the Low. 18 years after they released the album. What has two thumbs and a finger on the pulse of underground music? This guy.)

Any frigging way. My point is if you love singing along to Chad Kroeger's 'I gargle gravel' voice, you're part of a huge majority, and could probably throw a thousand-person house party in your town of one thousand, five hundred, where only the Nickelback discography was played and everybody would have a great old time.

Two decades ago, you came to school and tried to get kids to listen to the latest Dinosaur Jr. album, you were likely to get punched in the dick and called a fag. A year later, Nirvana blows up and the dick-puncher kid is trying to convince the punchee that he had Bleach when it came out two years ago.

And I personally think that the music shift might be the best example of how all this 'I'm deeper and more interesting that you' crap started. After two decades of mostly horseshit, good interesting, real music became the norm. Or was at least readily accessible. And resulted in two of the three groups that don't live off mainstream radio/channels that play music videos1:

1) The kids who really did buy Bleach when it came out. Because now Dick Puncher is wearing their favourite bands' t-shirts, and that's a huge 'Oh no he di-int' right there. Because for some reason when decent music becomes mainstream, it doesn't mean that mainstream has gotten good. It means that that previously enjoyable music has become shit. And what music-nerd wants to be surrounded by the Neanderthals that beat them up that morning when they go to a concert at night? So now they've got to get really esoteric, like indie-dance-pop-dubstep-with-a-sitar esoteric. Phew...crisis averted, and I really love this Swedish guy with a Casio keyboard making fart noises. I swear.

2) The kids who lucked out into growing up in a time where making good music was rewarded. When rapping about politically-charged material over jazz-influenced hip hop got you a Grammy, as opposed to relegated to the bargain bin. They were spoiled in the best possible way. So when they heard Snoop (having missed the initial salvo of gangsta rap), their reaction probably was 'Man, this is great - hip hop is so varied! I just hope it's not all taken over by some tool with gold teeth that relies on shitty beats and sounding like a retard fucking...ah shit.'

Be it Master P that fucked your shit up, or Sean Kingston that defiled your ears after enjoying Buju, or Hedley that raped your ear drums, if you're one of those kids, you're going to be wondering when Satan got control of the airwaves. Then you find out that the music is still there, it's just in hiding. Natural reaction, you search out more of it, shit gets weirder and weirder and boom, you're off the beaten path. Good for you, but it doesn't make you the Wiz of Wonderful.

And then there's the third group. And this one is crazy. They're the group that...wait for it...just likes that sort of music. Their inner dialogue goes something like this: "You prefer Miley Cyrus...well, okay, you're a tool, but this is what I like. Whatever."

That's it. That's the end of their story. Because they aren't out to prove anything by it. Some of them wear Nikes and American Apparel clothes. Some of them like the movie 'Patch Adams'. And some of them can listen to a well written pop song and not shit on it for being in tune and in 4/4 timing.

You can draw parallels with movies, books, whatever - right up to the personality traits that they present to you. I can say with absolute confidence that the most interesting people I've met don't ram all these incredibly interesting/quirky qualities down my throat. It is what it is.

And, with apologies to sailors with freakishly muscled biceps everywhere, I yam what I yam.

While I'm not an absolute tool, I'm not the kitty's titty either. I'm not wildly brilliant, nor am I blessed with the razor wit of some of my literary/comedic/social heroes. I don't like the vomit inducing shit that 's on the radio these days, but I'm by no means a guru that will change your life by passing my iTunes library unto you.

But I get by. I like to bitch, and I do it with passion, so people tend to be entertained by it. I get to have sex with girls that are out of my league because I'm in a band, I have cool hair, and I'm pretty fun. I get to go out with girls that are way too nice for me because I'm in a band, I have cool hair, I'm pretty fun, and they think they can fix my bad habits and solve my problems (they can't). I've got a good grasp of the English language, I enjoy writing, and you know what? I'm not bad at it at all.

But I'm no Chuck Klosterman.

Anyone who writes (or enjoys talking) about the state of music has a special reason to hate MTV: they've taken away the use of their name as an identifier for a type of music listener, resulting in the inelegant sentence this footnote is referencing. Now, all watching MTV signifies is you enjoy reality (read: horribly scripted) shows chronicling the transformation of shitty automobiles into public eyesores, guys dating mothers to infer which housewife's daughter they'd like to fuck and impossibly rich young people non-ironically dealing with their inconsequential 'problems'.You could argue, probably with some success, that such viewing predicates poor musical taste. However, it's dicey. Because I bet sometimes even Prince needs to take in a little 16 and Pregnant.