#it is kinda funny to watch all the people rushing for last minute gifts though

[kpostedsum]

high | d.m

summary: you find an unhealthy way of coping after draco cheats on you

warnings: drug use (marijuana) angsty¿, cheating, illusions to sex

song: habits - tove lo

a/n: this fic isn’t meant to romanticize drug use in any way. i also know nothing abt weed so LOL and very rushed & not edited

masterlist | taglist

I eat my dinner in my bathtub

Then I go to sexclubs

Watching freaky people gettin' it on

It doesn't make me nervous

If anything I'm restless

Yeah, I've been around and I've seen it all

you had a few minutes left of your charms class which was your last class before the weekend. you wanted nothing more than to get out of here and cuddle up with your boyfriend— who was enjoying his free period right now.

draco was one of the best boyfriends you could ask for, the frequent dates, gifts, and attention— it was more than you could wish for.

“you’re excused. you essays are due at the beginning of next week” snapes monotone voice dragged on as you quickly packed up your things and made your way to the slytherin common room.

I get home, I got the munchies

Binge on all my Twinkies

Throw up in the tub

Then I go to sleep

And I drank up all my money

Days get kinda lonely

entering the slytherin common room your eyes immediately searched for a certain blond boy, yet he was nowhere to be found. you made your way to the boys dorms in hopes of finding him there but you’re quickly interrupted by two familiar voices.

“why hello y/n, marvellous weather we’re having today aren’t we?” theo asked looking towards the ceiling and smiling as if he were outside, blaise blocking your path as he did so.

“i’m not sure what weather you’re talking about since we’re inside but i am okay thank you” you responded with a chuckle, trying to make your way past blaise.

“wait y/n” he stopped you. “can i borrow the astronomy notes? i would ask luna but i can’t find her anywhere” blaise continued.

they both seemed awfully on edge and anxious, you figured it was just quidditch nerves getting to them since there was an upcoming game this week.

“i have yet to finish my astronomy notes, but i did see luna in the great hall if you want her notes. now if you’d excuse me i’d like to see draco” you said trying to push past the two boys who still wouldn’t let you through.

“forget malfoy! let’s do something instead, we’re so much more fun than him, right blaise?” theo said giving blaise a pointed look as he threw his arm around your shoulder.

“right you are nott, let’s go!” blaise continued also throwing his arm around your shoulder and leading you away from the boys dorm.

“what? no, i have plans with draco. now excuse me” you said pushing them both off and heading towards dracos door.

as you get closer to his door you can hear heavy breathing, pants and skin slapping on skin. you’re confused, you figured draco would be taking a nap or running over drills for quidditch practice. the closer you get, the louder the noises become.

“pans, you feel so good”

you recognize that voice anywhere.

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

quickly you turned your head towards blaise and theo who had their heads lowered in shame, refusing to meet your gaze. “is this some kind of sick joke, are you guys pulling a prank or something because this isn’t funny” you said seriously not wanting to believe what you’re hearing from inside of your boyfriends dorm.

“we’re sorry, we tried to convince him not too but he wouldn’t listen” theo muttered silently.

it felt like your world was breaking apart slowly. just not too long ago you were excited to spend a weekend with your boyfriend who you loved so dearly, the same boyfriend who you’ve been dating for years, the same boyfriend who gets jealous about how much time you spend with his mum rather than him.

with shaky fingers you put your hand on the door knob and quickly pushed the door open, already preparing for the worst.

there he was, wrapped up with parkinson in the same bed you two shared not even twenty-four hours ago. her body straddling his naked, just like yours was doing the night before. you stood there frozen, mouth agape— not even knowing what to do with yourself.

“baby, i can explain, just please— y/n please don’t leave” draco said pushing pansy off of him, shuffling on his pants and reaching out towards you.

“dont touch me, malfoy!” you yelled and everyone froze. “you lost the right to touch me the minute you even thought of touching her” you continued sending both him and pansy a glare with tears threatening to slip from your eyes.

“darling please, i can explain—”

“no draco, we’re done just leave me alone, please” your voice cracking at the end as you pushed past blaise and theo rushing towards the girls dormitory.

Spend my days locked in a haze

Trying to forget you babe

I fall back down

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

it’s been days since you last left your room, days since you last saw draco. daphne would come by and check on you but you’d always dismiss her, wanting to be alone. regret is one word to describe how you’ve been feeling— you gave him everything and he threw it away so carelessly for a quick hook up.

you missed waking up against his smooth skin in his embrace, tracing the lines and scars across his porcelain skin as you waited for him to wake up, the way he’d try to kiss you in the morning without brushing his teeth and you wouldn’t let him because of morning breath— but he’d still do it anyways.

you missed him, but he didn’t want you anymore.

maybe it was something you’ve done, you’ve been quite busy with work recently so you haven’t been spending as much time with him as normal. he was probably lonely and trying to seek the attention you lacked to give him.

getting up, you stared at yourself in the mirror picking yourself apart. you were pretty, it was a well known fact around hogwarts, maybe he thought she was prettier. she was the life of the party and always up for some mischief whereas you preferred to do stuff in silence and would rather be with a small group of people. maybe he liked how exciting she was in comparison to you, she probably brought a spark of excitement to his life that you couldn’t.

dreading to feel something you quickly showered and got ready to leave your room hoping to run into a specific set of twins.

Pick up daddies at the playground

How I spend my daytime

Loosen up the frown,

Make them feel alive

I'll make it fast and greasy

I'm on my way to easy

“well what can we do for you today” fred said to you with a cheeky smile plastered across his face.

“do you have any muggle herb left?” you asked in a low voice making sure no one heard you.

“maybe we do, maybe we don’t” george said. “how much are you offering in exchange though” he continued.

“ten galleons for three ounces, is that enough” you said pulling the galleons out of your pockets and placing them in george’s palm.

“it was a pleasure doing business with you” they said in unison as fred placed the tiny baggie in your pocket so no one would see.

once you returned to your dormitory you quickly pulled out the pre-rolled muggle herb, lit it and let yourself forget.

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Spend my days locked in a haze

Trying to forget you babe

I fall back down

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

you started showing up to class late with red tired eyes, not caring about the looks you got. at this point every one knew what had happened but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

the muggle herb brought you a sense of bliss and freedom, a new feeling you haven’t felt before but something that you now craved.

“are you high right now?” draco said as he sat himself in the seat beside you.

“since when do you care about what i’m doing” you said sharply, not wanting to talk with him.

“love, you don’t smoke. who gave that stuff to you, i’ll kill them—”

“no you won’t.” you said turning towards him. “you won’t do any of that because you don’t own me and i’m not your girlfriend anymore. so mind your business malfoy, i’m sure parkinson’s waiting for you”

the rest of the class you both sat in silence working on potions that draco did most of since you weren’t in the correct mind state and he wasn’t willing to let his mark falter over your slip up.

you find it amazing how even when you’re on drugs he still looks amazing. the way his nose curves perfectly with a slight bump, and the way his hands move with caution as he pours the potion into the waste bucket.

“look, i’m sorry for what happened with pansy. it didn’t mean anything i swear, i don’t know why i did it but i regret it with my life” draco said breaking your thoughts, he looked older than normal and had dark circles underneath his under eyes. you wondered why he looked so distraught when he wasn’t the one who got cheated on.

“a sorry isn’t going to fix this draco” you told him. he knew you were right but he didn’t want to admit it. he hadn’t talked to pansy since the day you walked in on them, the guilt has been eating him up inside. he stayed silent and didn’t bother respond to you, he knew anything he said would have made the situation worst than it already is— but how he wished you were still his sweet y/n.

“now if you excuse me, i have some fun to attend too” you said leaving him alone as you made your way back to your dorm.

Staying in my play pretend

Where the fun, it got no end

Can't go home alone again

Need someone to numb the pain

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

over the last few weeks, you couldn’t remember the last time you were sober. you started skipping classes to smoke and avoiding your friends so they’d stop questioning your habits.

you were forgetting and that’s all that mattered, you didn’t care how it was affecting your health— it made you feel better. sometimes you wished there was another way, another way to forget how he held you at night pressing soft kisses to your skin, another way to forget the way he took pansy the same way he took you. you wonder if he feels as sorry as he looks, he’s the one who cheated so he can’t possibly care that much.

you hear two knocks at your door which quickly break you from your state making you more attentive, cleaning yourself up and opening the door. there stood draco— his eyes red as well, like hes been crying.

“y/n listen, i know what i did was wrong and that i tried to pretend it wasn’t me but please. i didn’t mean too, you mean the world to me. i miss you so much love.” he pleaded with you.

“y’know draco, i miss you too” you admitted. “but i’ve found a way to forget about you, maybe you should do the same”.

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

-

taglist: @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @ilygw @nic0lodean @s1ater @henqtic @justreadingficsdontmindme @i-love-scott-mccall @harmqnia @gwlvr @alishahpotter

[softholand]

snowed in - t.h

pairing: tom holland x reader

summary: you and tom are neighbors but you don’t get along very well, what happens when you’re forced to spend christmas with him?

warnings: some curses

words: 3.3k

a/n: this is my gift to @uglypastels as part of @peeterparkr​ ‘s secret santa 🤍 Z, i’m sorry this took so long but as you can see, i got a little carried away with the story lmao anyway, you’re actually one of my favorite writers so i’m kinda nervous to post this but i really hope you like it!! merry christmas ✨

You hated snow, that was a fact. But, since it was Christmas you were willing to face it, for the sake of your sister, that was hosting her first Christmas dinner at her and her husband’s new house.

Before you faced the snow though, you had to wash some of your clothes since your laundry basket was full. So, taking your dirty clothes, you made your way to the laundry room, which thankfully, was empty.

You were putting the detergent in when your phone rang and of course, it was your sister, already asking where you were. Just as you were about to answer, you heard the sound of the door opening, before your neighbor, the one you didn't like very much, entered the laundry room.

As always, you tried your best to ignore him and answered your still ringing phone. “Hello?” You said, already listening to the sound of chatting on the other end of the call. “Yes, I’m coming, I just had to do something first.” You told your sister, closing the machine and pressing start. “No, Maya! I’m not bringing anyone, you already know that!” That phrase caught the attention of your neighbor, which made you roll your eyes, both at him and your sister.

“Okay, I’ll see you later, bye!” You ended the call, stuffing your phone back into your purse, before taking your keys off. Then, just as you turned to leave, Tom’s body came crashing right into yours, knocking you off your feet.

“I’m so sorry!” He said, quickly helping you get up. “Fuck! You don’t look at where you’re walking?!” You hissed, and he immediately stopped his movements. “I said I’m sorry! And if there’s someone to blame here, it’s you!” He retaliated, making you widen your eyes.

“I’m sorry, what?!!! You came crashing into me like a fucking truck and I’m the one to blame?!” You practically yelled, you just couldn’t believe this boy. “As if! You turned so fast that it gave me no other option!” He scoffed, making you even angrier.

“Okay, it’s Christmas and I don't want to stress myself right now so can you please help me find my keys so I can go?!” Taking a deep breath, you asked your not so friendly neighbor. “To finally get you out of here? With pleasure!” He mocked and you had to restrain yourself from slapping him.

You two looked everywhere and when you were starting to lose hope, your neighbor, whose name you recalled being Tom said, “I found them but you’re not gonna like it where it is!” Rushing to his side you saw what he was talking about. He indeed found your keys but they were inside the floor drain, with metal bars locking it pretty safely.

“No, no, no! I need those keys!” You whined, getting on your knees to try and get them out of there but it was a failed attempt. “Can you help me, please?!” You yelled, outraged Tom wasn’t doing anything. “What do you want me to do? There’s no way we’re getting them out of there.” He exclaimed. “I don’t know, get a stick or something. I’m gonna try to fish them out.”

After a couple of minutes trying to look for something, Tom came back with a toilet plunger. “Seriously?!” You asked, to which he rolled his eyes. “Do you want my help or not?” He questioned, crossing his arms, making them look even bigger than they already are, which it’s completely not to the point here.

Your attempt to rescue your keys was not successful, since all you ended up doing was pushing them further into the drain until you couldn’t see them anymore. “Fuck! No, no, no!” You cried, desperately trying to take them out. “Just accept it, they’re gone!” Tom stated.

“How am I supposed to get to my sister’s house now? And my house keys were there too!” You groaned, which made him laugh. “Stop laughing! That’s not funny!” You finally gave up and got out of the ground, standing beside him. “I’m sorry but it is kinda funny!” He continued to laugh and you couldn’t help but slapped his arm. “It’s all your fault!” You scolded.

“Not this again, it was your fault too!” Tom retorted, making you even angrier. “Fuck! What am I supposed to do now? I have to get to my sister’s.” You paced around the small room, feeling your anxiety starting to build up in your chest. “Okay, I’ll call an Uber, stay at her place tonight, and tomorrow I can call someone to take care of this, right?” You asked, mostly to yourself.

“I guess…?” Tom answered, to which you rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you!” With long strides and without saying another word, you made your way out of the laundry room. “You’re not going to thank me for my help?” Tom smirked, making you stop. “Of course, how could I forget to thank the person who caused all of this in the first place?” You mocked. “Oh, c’mon!” Tom insisted. “Goodbye, thanks for nothing!” You jeered, completely dismissing him.

Once you were out of the room, you thought your problems were gone but once you got to open the door, it didn’t move. You tried again, and again and again and again. Nothing. Snorting, you tried one last time before giving up and kicking the metal thing with your boot covered feet.

“Yeah, about that…” You jumped at the sudden sound of Tom’s voice. “Fuck! What do you want now?” You questioned, losing your patience. “It seems like we’re snowed in, it’s all over the news, apparently there’s another snowstorm coming and the roads are all blocked.” He informed you while leaning on his door frame with his arms crossed.

“You’re kidding me, right?!” You exclaimed, feeling your heartbeat speed up. “Nope!” He shrugged, making you panic.”No, no, no! You’re playing with me, I don’t believe you!” You practically yelled. “Well, see it for yourself!” Tom offered, mentioning for you to come inside his house, where he had the tv on.

You hesitated, after all, you had never set foot in any of your neighbor's houses, but eventually accepted his offer and went into his house. And of course, just like he said, the snowstorm was all over the news with big headlines saying: “All the roads are blocked, for your safety, stay home!”

You groaned loudly, putting both of your hands on your head, and just when you thought the moment couldn’t get any worse, your phone started ringing again. “Fuck! She’s going to kill me!” You took a deep breath, before finally answering your sister’s call.

“Hey, Maya! No, I’m not! I’m stuck here, the door won’t open because of the snow! Yeah, I know! No, there’s no one working today, Maya! And the roads are too dangerous to drive. I’m sorry, I promise I’ll make it to lunch tomorrow. I’m sorry, I love you! Bye!”

Ending the call, you realized you were still in Tom’s apartment, while he looked at you like you were some type of alien. “Just so you know, you ruined my sister’s first Christmas dinner at her new house.” You informed him, to which he scoffed, plopping himself on the sofa.

“For the last time, it was your fault!” He said, taking the remote control, looking for something to watch. You felt extremely uncomfortable so you made your way to the door, wanting to get out of this asshole’s house. “Well, it’s been a pleasure but I think I’m gonna head home now. Again, thank you for ruining my Christmas.” You grumbled, opening the door when you heard him clear his throat.

“What now?” You snapped, raising your voice. “You sure you’re not forgetting anything?” He inquired, leaving you confused, but all it took was a couple of seconds for you to realize something. Your house keys. They were gone. “Fuck! No, no, no! There’s no way I’m gonna find a locksmith on Christmas eve. What am I supposed to do?” You groaned, feeling frustrated.

“You could always… stay here?” Tom offered, making you laugh. “Funny! There’s no way I’m spending Christmas with you!” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Well then, good luck staying outside or with another one of our neighbors. Oh, right! There’s no one else here, it’s just us.” He smirked, making your blood boil.

Here goes your Christmas.

Sitting in complete silence in Tom's living room, with him watching a golf championship, while his house looked everything but Christmassy, you regret ever complaining about your sister’s Christmas party. “Do you want anything?” He asked from his side of the sofa. “No! Thanks!” You stated, crossing your arms.

“Oh, c’mon! We’re stuck here until God knows how long, don’t you think we should start to, at least, get to know each other? I’ll start, my name is Tom!” He said, to which you, once again, rolled your eyes. “Oh, I know your name!” You exclaimed, annoyed with his sudden enthusiasm.

“Look at that!” He smirked and you quickly realized how that must’ve sounded for him. “Yeah, the girls you bring home aren’t exactly discreet, and believe me when I say that these walls are very thin.” You declared, watching his smirk only grow in size. “What can I say? I know how to pleasure women.” Tom bragged, making you want to throw up. “Please, I don’t wanna hear it!”

“I was joking! What about you though, I still don’t know your name and we’ve been neighbors for what? Two years now?” He asked, completely forgetting the tv, now focusing solely on you. “I don’t know, something like that. And my name’s y/n!” You said. “Cute! And what do you do?” He questioned.

“I’m a personal chef!” You acknowledge, Tom instantly raising his eyebrows. “Fancy…” He teased, making you chuckle. “There’s nothing fancy about being in front of a stove twelve hours a day, serving people who sometimes don’t even know what a reduction is.” You added and Tom raised his eyebrows even higher. “You also have no idea what a reduction is, right?” He shook his head, to which you scoffed. “What about you?”

“I work as a personal trainer!” He exclaimed, clearly excited with his position. “That explains a lot!” You whispered to yourself, thinking about the size of his arms, shoulder, back… “What?!” Tom smirked, having listened to your words. “Nothing! I didn’t say anything!” You stated, to which he laughed.

After a couple of minutes of complete silence, Tom cleared his throat, before asking, “So… bringing no one to your sister’s Christmas dinner?” You rolled your eyes. “Don’t even tell me about it, she’s been bothering me about it since her wedding.” You blurted, suddenly realizing your mistake. “And I don’t know why I just told you this because you’re practically a stranger and this was very personal information.” You commented, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“It’s alright, don’t worry!” Tom assured, making you smile. “Well, it seems like I’m doing all the questions here, do you wanna ask something?” You didn’t even think about it for too long. “Why’s your house not decorated? I noted that your door is the only one without a garland.” You asked, dying to know the answer since you stepped foot in his house.

“Oh, it’s just… I live alone and my family is not here so, I don’t know, it doesn’t bother me.” He shrugged and you felt your heart sink hearing him said that. “Not even a tree? I mean, c’mon… everyone loves a Christmas tree!” You stated, to which he chuckled. “I actually have one, I just haven’t put it up,” Tom mumbled.

“What?! Can we do it?” You exclaimed. “Do it, like… right now?” He questioned, confused with your sudden burst of energy. “Yeah, if I’m going to spend Christmas here, I want to at least feel festive.” You stated, getting excited. “I mean, yeah, sure! Go for it!” Tom nodded, getting off the couch to pick up the tree.

When he came back with a giant box, you got up to help. “Can I take my coat and boots off? They’re very uncomfortable!” You asked and Tom nodded. Once you had everything off, you guys started to adjust the tree branches one by one, until it was perfect to start decorating.

With a box of ornaments by your side, you started arranging them on the tree, while Tom disappeared in the kitchen, making you think he just didn’t want to help. But, once he came out of the room carrying two mugs of what you assumed was hot chocolate, you couldn’t help but smile.

“For me?” You teased, to which he chuckled. “Yeah, I mean, it looks like we’re going to be here for a while so I thought, we better have something to drink.” He resonated, watching you take a sip of the hot liquid. “It’s perfect, thanks, Tom!” You smiled and he reciprocated.

“You wanna watch something?” Tom asked after a couple of minutes of silence. “Well, since now we’re all in, a Christmas movie would be great!” You said. “Why was I sure you’ll say that?” He grunted, making you smile.

With Home Alone on the tv and mugs of hot chocolate in hands, you and Tom kept decorating the tree and it didn’t take much for it to start to look festive. Since the tree had the lights already in, all it took was Tom plugging the power on for it to lit up, showing all the ornaments you and him had put and making the house feel instantly more festive.

“It looks beautiful!” You beamed, while from the corner of your eye, you saw Tom looking at you. “Stop!” You protested, hearing him chuckle. “What?” He asked, feigning ignorance. “I can see you looking at me and not the tree.” You crossed your arms, finally taking a look at him. “Well, everyone looks at what they find the most beautiful, isn't that right?” He smirked and you swore you felt little butterflies on your stomach.

“You’re such a flirt!” You scoffed, deciding it was best to play it off rather than acknowledging what he said. “I told you I know how to pleasure women.” He blinked, to which you groaned, mimicking wanting to throw up.

“So… what now?�� Tom asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “I don’t know, I’m kinda hungry though. What were you going to have for dinner?” You asked, and he instantly widened his eyes. “I… didn’t really think about that. I was probably going to order something.” He shrugged, making you roll your eyes.

“Well, that’s not possible anymore, so what do you have in mind?” You questioned, leaning beside him. “I mean… you’re the chef here…” Tom snickered, to which you scoffed. “You’re seriously going to make me work on Christmas?” He pouted and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Fine! What do you have in this house?” You sighed, making your way to the kitchen. “I think I have chicken, some potatoes, frozen peas, eggs, milk, and a couple of oranges,” Tom informed you while looking in the fridge. “Let me think… I can make mashed potatoes, sautéed peas, and roasted chicken with… orange sauce. What do you think?” You said, matter of factly.

“I think it’s way more than I could do in my entire life.” He exclaimed, making you laugh. “So… care to help?” You asked and he nodded, making his way to your side. “What can I do?”

You instructed Tom to peel, dice, and boil the potatoes, while you seasoned the chicken and put it in the oven. You two kept working side by side in the kitchen and the more time you spent together, the more you got comfortable around each other.

Tom put on some Christmas music, per your request, and even took your hand, making you dance to one of Mariah Carey’s songs until the smell of something burning hit your nostrils. Once everything was ready, you set the table, and you two finally seated down to eat the improvised Christmas dinner.

“So… what do you think?” Anxious, you asked Tom as soon as he put the fork in his mouth. “Don’t tell my mom I said that but this is the best meal I’ve ever had. Holy shit!” He exclaimed, making you smile. “C’mon, you’re exaggerating!” You tried to reason but he wasn’t having it. “I’m not! This is so good!”

“Well, thank you! I appreciated it! Cheers!” You raise your glass, which was currently filled with the wine Tom found in one of the cabinets. “Cheers!” He repeated, raising his glass.

Tom got a FaceTime call from his family In the middle of your dinner and after asking if he could take it, he answered the call. “Hi, baby! Merry Christmas!” You could hear a feminine voice saying. “Hi, mom, Merry Christmas!” Tom responded with a smile on his face.

“We’re just about to eat, what are you doing?” The same voice asked, to which he answered, “Oh, I’m eating… takeout.” Tom said, making you feign being offended by his words. “Oh honey, I wish you were here with us! We all miss you so much! Promise you’ll try to come next year, please?”

“Yes, mom! I promise!” Tom said, passing his fingers through his brown curly hair. “Okay, we’re gonna leave you now. We love you so much, Thomas! Merry Christmas!” The woman on the other side of the call said, making him blush. “I love you guys too! Merry Christmas, everyone! Bye!” Tom gave his phone a little wave, before ending the call.

“Sorry, she can be a little… persistent!” He apologized, to which you shrugged. “It’s alright, I don’t mind.” You assured him, taking a sip of wine. “But why didn’t you tell them about me?” You added, making him smirk.

“Trust me, if I told them I had a girl with me, they’d expect you to go home with me for the next Christmas,” Tom explained. “Is this an invitation?” You smirked, raising your eyebrows. “Only if you want to.” He winked, to which you rolled your eyes.

“You guys are not from here, right?” You asked. “What? The accent gave it away?” Tom inquired, making his british accent even stronger. “A little bit!” You answered and you both laughed. “We’re from England, I moved here about two years ago.” He told you. “Why? If you don’t mind me asking.” You said. “I had a pretty rough breakup back then and I don’t know, just wanted a new start.” He explained, seemingly saddened.

“I’m sorry!” You apologized but Tom was quick to dismiss. “It’s alright! What about you? Is your family from here?” He asked, to which you nodded. “Yeah, they’re all from here.” You answered, taking another sip.

After a couple of hours, you and Tom were finally finished with dinner and cleaning the kitchen. Now, you were both seated on the sofa, watching yet another Christmas movie. You had no idea how, but as time passed, you and Tom got closer and closer, until you were both cuddled up in the middle of the sofa, with both of your legs covered by a blanket.

You were close, your faces were almost touching and when you were about to close your eyes, Tom whispered, “Look up!” And you did, finding a mistletoe hanging loosely on top of you. “When did you do that?” You asked, failing to contain a smile. “I mean, since you’re all about Christmas traditions, I thought it was only fitting.” He smirked and you finally closed the gap between you two.

“You know, my Christmas wasn’t that bad after all.” You joked, to which he laughed, “Mine either!” He agreed, kissing you again. “Merry Christmas!” You smiled. “Merry Christmas!” Tom exclaimed, before going right back to your lips, where he stayed for the rest of the night.

tagging some of my mutuals ✨ @stuckonspidey @definitely-not-black-cat @missnxthingg @bi-writes @screamholland @peeterparkr @duskholland @wazzupmrstark @tomhollandthing @lauras-collection @tommybaholland @mrs-hollandstan @allyz @hazinhoodies @hollandcreep @worldoftom @whatevsholland @geminiparkers

[dadsbongos]

Treehouse

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Katsuki Bakugou/Reader (and a lot of other people) Warnings: Spoilers for bakugou’s hero name ahead!!, songfic for this song Summary: Katsuki’s grown a lot since middle school, hasn’t he? ~~~

Do Not Enter's written on the doorway. Why can’t everyone just go away? Except you. You can stay.

Katsuki looked down at the girl in his arms, eyes fluttered shut and lashes fallen over her cheeks. Lips parted ever so slightly to let out puffs of even, laxed breathing. The golden sunlight shone in her hair as it beamed through his thin curtains, soft warmth spreading over both of their bodies. His fingers carefully danced over the tender skin of her arm as he held her close. Her head over his chest and he was sure that the sound of his thunderous heartbeat would wake her eventually.

It felt nice, he concluded, to hold his love so dearly. To let his chest deflate and not have to be the best of the best. He didn’t have to be anyone. He didn’t have to be Bakugou, Katsuki - top of the class. Bakugou, Katsuki - Dynamight. Bakugou, Katsuki - Kacchan. Bakugou, Katsuki.

If he didn’t want to, he didn’t have to be anyone. She’d hold him just as close with any other persona he wanted to wear. It was his real security. His real home - right in her arms. A home he didn’t want to leave.

He wasn’t sure when it hit him. Just one of those random thoughts you never expect but deep down, you knew the entire time. Something so simple and yet so earth shattering that merely breathing it into existence seemed catastrophic. He wasn’t sure when it hit him that he was terrified of losing her. So innately terrified that the very thought was enough to send his muscles a tremor.

The feeling, it wasn’t nice. But he knew exactly what was - living the life he could with (Y/n).

What do you think of my treehouse? It's where I sit and talk really loud. Usually, I'm all by myself.

“Man, you’re really saving my ass here, Bakubro!” Eijiro grinned, exposing his unnatural shark teeth.

Katsuki huffed, “Don’t think about it, shitty hair. You’re still not passing.”

“I know, I know,” the redhead nervously grinned, eyeing the rolled up newspaper in Katsuki’s hand as he did so, “It’s just manly of you to help me is all. You’ve changed, man, it’s kinda cool.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious!” Eijiro put down his pencil, “It’s cool.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes but didn’t retort further. Whether he was ready to admit it or not, that usually would’ve gotten Kirishima, Eijiro a first-class newspaper swatting but he supposed he could let it pass. Just this once. 

I’m the captain but you can be the deputy. I'm really glad you think I'm so funny. I don't think I'm ever gonna let you leave.

Denki bit at his bottom lip in concentration, more effort going into thinking about cracking the egg in his hand than actually cracking the egg in his hand. His brows were drawn tight toward his face, contemplating how he should go about his cracking to avoid a mess. The last time he was trusted to crack eggs, he’d gotten shell in the bowl and yolk all on the counter and his fingers. The last time he was trusted to crack eggs, he felt like an utter fool. 

Looking over to the electric blond, Katsuki snarled at how little the boy had gotten done. Walking over, he took the egg still encased in its roughened shell from Denki in one hand and a bowl in the other. Tilting the porcelain bowl just right, Katsuki snapped the egg against the lip of the dish, pulling his fingers apart to hold the crack in the egg open so the yolk could drool down. Tossing out the eggshell, Katsuki watched as Denki took an egg for himself before copying exactly what the explosive teenager had done.

As two yolks drowned together in whites within their little bowl, Denki sung the praises of his dear friend, of Bakugou, Katsuki - and in Denki’s opinion, apparently, a masterchef. 

Nodding stiffly, Katsuki turned back to his own task at buttering the pan as it laid atop its burner. He let silence rule the kitchen until Denki would break it with a lame joke he would never admit he liked.

Do Not Enter's written on the doorway. Why can’t everyone just go away? Except you. You can stay.

“You have such great lid space, though,” Mina clasped her hands tighter, “I think it’d be fun!”

Katsuki grumbled under his breath before sighing and tossing his head back, “I’ll give you twenty minutes. Starting fucking now.”

Squealing, Mina hopped onto the common room couch before unzipping her makeup bag, “Thanks, Bakugou!”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, barely managing to hold his underlying frustration inside, “Your damn funeral if you fuck up.”

“I won’t…” Mina pouted, “C’mon, don’t you believe in me? Just a little? You’ve seen what I can do.”

“I’ll believe for now.”

What do you think of my treehouse? It's where I sit and talk really loud. Usually, I'm all by myself.

“Oh, didn’t know the balconies were occupied,” Hanta awkwardly muttered.

Katsuki looked up from the ground below, brows furrowed and eyes stinging, “If you say anything to anyone, I’ll kill you myself.”

Putting his hands up, Hanta showed off that stupidly large, stupidly infectious grin, “Hey, man, everyone needs a good cry. I think it keeps us sane.”

Nodding silently, Katsuki stood at his railing, head hanging over and eyes clenched shut in a new effort to keep his tears in.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I’d rather die.”

“Maybe, instead of dying, you could just vent to a trusted friend who cares about you?” Hanta suggested, “You go to (L/n), right? Well, now you can come to me, too. We’re friends, Bakugou, we’re there for each other.”

I’m the captain but you can be the deputy. 

Stirring inside his mind, were the thoughts he’d been keeping to himself since that fight. His real fight with Izuku. Where Katsuki won. The successor to All Might and boy wonder was beaten by Katsuki. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Izuku was making progress fast, far too fast. He was leaping towards the top and Katsuki could only watch on, feet trapped in the cement. The ground swallowing his body as Deku, the Quirkless one, the useless one, the crybaby, bound forward in success.

It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t enough. Bakugou, Katsuki was simply not enough.

That’s what he was beginning to believe; where he couldn’t even save himself from villains, Deku came rushing in to save him and succeeded. 

Sitting at the kitchen island, alone, in the middle of the night, that’s what Katsuki was beginning to believe.

Lights flicker on, “Kacchan?”

Closing his eyes, Katsuki pretended there was no voice. Nobody behind him. No one but him awake at this awful hour.

“You’re usually in bed by now. Way before, actually.”

There was no reply. There didn’t need to be one. Izuku sat beside Katsuki all the same, an uneven, slightly nervous, smile on his face as he did so.

Katsuki opened his eyes, looking at the other boy from the corner of his peripheral, “You’ve made the power yours.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not as useless as I thought.”

“Thanks… you know, I’ve been meaning to ask… would you- would you train with me sometime? I think that I could really improve if I fought someone like you.” 

“Someone like me? The fuck does that mean?”

“Strong. Well-versed in your Quirk. Other than Todoroki, you’re probably the best at Quirk application, so I wanted to see if I could fight you.”

“Ask daddy issues.”

“But then we couldn’t have our rematch. I still need to beat you, Kacchan, you know?”

I'm really glad you think I'm so funny.

Katsuki found himself staring at the back of Izuku’s head, brows furrowed. Anger. Frustration. Confusion. He couldn’t tell what exactly it was. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see her. (L/n), (Y/n) smiling at him softly, perfect lips tugged into a perfect grin on her perfect face. God, what he wouldn’t give to just grab her and kiss the smile off her face just to do it all over again. What he wouldn’t give to scream to the world he loved her.

“You okay? You’re tense.”

Glancing to the front, Shota still sleepily tucked in his sleeping bag in a corner of the room, Katsuki nodded, “Fucking fine. Just thinking.”

Setting her chin in the palm of her hand, (Y/n) tilted her head ever so slightly, “Wanna tell me about it?” shaking his head, the ash-blond went to refuse when she spoke up again, “Not here, if you wanna wait.”

He felt almost unworthy. Losing to Deku, killing the legacy of All Might, getting kidnapped by villains - Bakugou, Katsuki felt unworthy of his own lover’s comforts. Looking at the face of an angel would make you crazy - at least that’s what his father told him once. And so, he nodded slowly, “Sure. Later. Alone, though, I’m not talking shit in front of Raccoon Eyes and Dunce Face.”

“Whatever you need,” she murmured, giggling quietly to herself, “I’m here.”

I don't think I'm ever gonna let you leave.

“I’ll say this once.”

He burned the image of them into his brain. (Y/n) and Eijiro on either side of him on the common room couch. Denki just about ready to cut through the carrot cake Mina and Hanta slaved over despite trashing on the choice the entire time. Izuku was slightly off to the side, ready to hand off gifts to his childhood rival.

Katsuki sighed quietly, looking to his feet when a hand grabbed his, (Y/n) rubbing her thumb into his skin. He swallowed his pride before letting everything he felt about each and every person in the room manifest into the best phrase someone like him could imagine.

“Thanks. For everything.”

[tearsofsyrup]

unwrapped

— The only two people missing from Jihoon’s own birthday party are you and him.

pairing. lee jihoon / reader

genre. fluff, angst, smut, friends to lovers au

word count. 3.3k

warnings. profanity, descriptions of sexual activity

notes. happy birthday, our beloved genius. I hope you guys enjoy.

-

Your disappointed pout stuck out like a sore thumb among all the happy, drunken faces in the room.

Loud hollers, goofy dancing, stuffy air, various odors of alcohol, overplayed music, dimmed lights, intoxicated conversations and your solemn figure in the corner. You didn’t belong there and that was no surprise to you, that was no reason to stand and sulk like a child whose lollipop was taken away. And that wasn’t the reason why.

You hadn’t come there to party or watch Seungkwan and Seokmin have a dance off, anyway. The sole reason for your presence was that you simply wanted to see Jihoon. And it shouldn’t have been too demanding of a wish to have fulfilled considering that this whole spectacle was a celebration of Jihoon’s own birthday. Or you thought that it wouldn’t have been too demanding of a wish.

To be fair, Jihoon had been there. Mainly to greet everyone who had bothered coming and participate in some conversation before everyone got too drunk to care anymore. And you had really appreciated seeing him then.

But when you had later gone to find him, in order to wish him a happy birthday personally, it was as if he had vanished. You were only in a small apartment that he shared with Jeonghan and Seungcheol so you would have found him if he was there. Meaning that he wasn’t, he had fled.

And your whole purpose for showing up had turned to dust. Hence the disappointed pout on your face.

You didn’t bother masking it, as you knew everyone was too busy or too drunk to notice. But you knew wrong, you discovered when Jeonghan found a place by your side, half-empty glass of whatever in his hand. His hung lids told you he had been enjoying himself, like the rest.

“Hey!” He announced and you pursed your lips. “There you are.”

Funny, you thought. Since you weren’t the one missing.

“Hey, Han.”

Jeonghan quickly began making tsk sounds at your unenthusiastic reply.

“What’s got you so down, huh?” he questioned.

You tried to shrug him off with a “nothing in particular,” not ready to admit that you wanted to know where Jihoon had run off to. Because you knew Jeonghan more than well enough to know that he’d see right through you if you revealed even the slightest of clues concerning your feelings. That was the last thing you needed.

You expected him to leave then, due to not wanting to let your mood affect his fun. But a look of pondering instead formed on his face and you watched him closely, curious to know what he was considering telling or not telling you.

A curiosity that was short-lived.

Jeonghan suddenly leaned in, breath fanning across your sweaty neck and you stiffened in surprise.

“He’s probably on the roof,” were the words that brushed against the shell of your ear, before he leaned away with a smirk.

You really should have known better. Of course Jeonghan already knew. You were just surprised that you were only now finding that out, after so many years.

A red that blended in well with the environment bloomed across your cheeks, your heartbeat a little louder and a little faster. Jeonghan chuckled at your flustered expression.

When you didn’t pretend to be unaware of what he was talking about, realizing that such an act would have been entirely fruitless, he sent you a suggestive wink before finally leaving you alone.

And his hearty laugh reached your ears about fifteen minutes later, when he caught sight of you sneaking out of the apartment. A blush was painted across your face yet again once you closed the front door behind you.

Hurried, hopeful steps brought you to the rooftop, until you actually found Jihoon there and you froze.

It was a cold night in the late fall, breath visible as you exhaled, muscles instinctively tensing as your body was embraced by the low temperatures and your hand squeezing the door handle. Jihoon’s side was visible to you as he sat on the floor, back leaned against an air conditioning unit with a bottle of wine in his hand. And you were nervous all over again. You thought feelings like those would have slowly started dissipating the better of friends you became, but your theory was never proven right in that regard. He was there, alone. And you were there, alone. The moon and your yearning heart your only other company.

You considered turning back for a second, a sudden rush of sense invading your mind, realizing that he had probably left the apartment because he had wanted to be left alone.

But it was his birthday and nobody should be alone on their birthday.

That was the argument you used to justify the steps that you took forward and the inevitable slam of the door behind you.

Jihoon’s head turned at the sound and you swallowed your spit.

“Hey,” you greeted quickly.

“Oh. Hey.”

He blinked the surprise away from his eyes, looking at you hovering over him as he sipped his wine. You had always liked his eyes, especially when they were watching you.

Your toes curled inside your boots, muscles complaining about the chilly breeze on your skin.

“Can I, uh... sit?”

He gestured to the space beside him with his free hand and an encouraging nod and you didn’t wait to proceed. The floor was cold against your butt and you hugged your knees tightly.

Enough time for Jihoon to take another sip from his bottle passed before you spoke.

“So... You come here often?”

Jihoon huffed a laugh and you smiled, feeling proud that you broke his frown for a moment.

“Uh, yeah, actually,” he revealed and you nodded.

“Is it usually to... escape from your birthday parties?”

He sent you a quick glance as he smiled and you shrugged.

A sigh fell from his chest and he allowed himself another sip.

“I’ve never been all that into celebrating my birthday so... extravagantly. This was more for Jeonghan’s sake, really,” he explained, watching the sky pensively as you watched him in the same way. “And everyone only came here to get drunk and act wild anyway, so...”

You pursed your lips as if to keep yourself quiet, but the words inside you insisted.

“Well, not everyone...”

Your head dipped a fraction in slight embarrassment and Jihoon turned to watch you, the corners of his pink lips curling. Your windpipe tightened.

He whispered a quiet “thank you” before turning away, nose directed towards his lap for a second before he took another small sip.

Feeling exposed in the silence surrounding you, you gathered yourself.

“I kinda agree, though. Parties like this are never as much fun as they’re made out to be. For me, at least.”

Jihoon hummed. More quiet followed. And you already knew he didn’t feel the same about you.

He didn’t feel what you had felt for him for years, an instant crush having turned an immortal crush until you no longer knew where the line between crushing and loving was. There was a reason why you were the one who came looking for him and not the other way around. You knew he didn’t feel the same way. Because up until only a month prior, he had been too busy loving his girlfriend for there to have been any space for any thoughts of you. He had been so in love, he had all but radiated pure bliss. And none of it had been for you.

Forced to watch him ogling over someone else like how you ogled over him, you had learned to contain your feelings and live with them unquenched. Yes, your heart had ached occasionally but otherwise you had managed it all quite respectably. Until they broke up thirty-one days before his birthday and your heart had unethically soared once the news reached you. And you had hated it but you still loved him and he didn’t feel the same. He was still in love with her. It was obvious in the permanent creases on his forehead and dull sheen across his eyes.

And despite knowing and understanding, you stayed seated beside him. Because no one should be left alone on their birthday.

Thankfully, Jihoon didn’t seem too peeved.

In the cold silence, you shuddered, holding your legs firmly to your chest as the moon glared at you mercilessly. It pressured you to speak and you wanted to, but didn’t know what to say.

So, “sorry I didn’t get you a gift,” was what came out.

Jihoon chuckled unabashedly, shaking his head slightly.

“Why in the world would you have?”

Your fists clenched against your arms and you watched the ground, wondering if he really didn’t know how you felt about him.

“Right,” you agreed, having been stupid to suggest such a notion. “You’re right.”

When nothing more was said and another pause found its place in your conversation, you glanced Jihoon’s way carefully, finding him lost in thought as he stared towards stars hidden by a city’s sky. And something squeezed your heart at the sight, threatening to choke it or pop it or crush it. Because he was probably thinking of her.

It was a stark reminder of how unbearable that feeling was. You needed to distract yourself from it.

“Are you doing any better?” somehow seemed like the right question to ask and he sent you a quick look, apparently not expecting the question. Another sip of wine swam down his throat and he watched his lap again.

“Hmm,” he started and you almost felt bad for what you had asked, hoping that you hadn’t overstepped any boundaries. “I don’t know, really. ‘Cause I can’t-... I can’t remember exactly how I felt earlier.”

You understood what he meant and roughly translated his response to ‘no, not really’. A lack of surprise never managed to fully fend off disappointment, did it?

And silence blanketed your forms once more, having proved to be the most talkative visitor during your whole encounter. An uncomfortably talkative one. That made your ears hurt and made you unsure of whether you were fit to keep pushing it away every time it showed up.

You didn’t have to, though. Jihoon took this punch.

“And how are you doing?” was his sudden question.

You weren’t expecting it, eyes wide as saucers as you turned to him with something akin to disbelief plastered over your face.

Unsure of what he was referring to, if anything in particular, you stuttered out a strained “g-good.” Jihoon chuckled then, sporting a look of fondness if you would have taken a guess. It made a warmth spread in your chest and it felt nice.

Until a cool breeze brushed against your form and you visibly shivered, shoulders curled forward uncomfortably.

The man beside you noticed, proceeding to hold his bottle of wine out for you to take. You did, liking the mild burn with which the red liquid tinted your throat. But when you went to borrow another sip, some of it missed your mouth and ran down your chin before carelessly dripping onto your shirt.

“Shit.”

Jihoon immediately began laughing as you wiped your chin with your hand before inspecting the stain on your shirt with furrowed brows. And as he kept laughing you diverted your focus to him, unable to keep a smile of your own from forming at the sight and sound of his laughter.

“I’m glad you find my misery amusing,” you muttered, no real contempt to be found in the seams of your words.

Jihoon nodded enthusiastically, laughter slowly calming. “Me too.”

And another silence paid a visit once you handed him his bottle back, but a less disturbing one this time. One that you didn’t immediately feel like you needed to break. Though, you still did, after a while.

“Sorry for coming up here and disturbing you, by the way.” You felt like you needed to tell Jihoon that.

You saw his head shaking in your peripherals, hand waving dismissively.

“No, no. The company is actually nicer than I’d have thought.” His head turned to you. “Thanks.”

You let your eyes find his.

“Oh. No, it’s nothing,” you insisted, also shaking your head slightly.

Jihoon sighed gently.

“No, it’s something.” A brief pause introduced his next words. “You are.”

And you really wondered if he knew your feelings then. As did your heart, begging for answers as it pounded harshly in your chest and sent blood to glow through the skin of your cheeks.

But as he smiled at you, head tilted and soft features complimented by the moon that cast its light upon them, his eyes still looked like they were dying. And it hurt.

You knew he didn’t feel the same. Yet your heart persisted, its stomach growling and wanting and it was becoming unbearable. Because even though you knew, your heart was saying that you didn’t. And your heart was suddenly so loud, louder than your brain as you watched Jihoon beside you.

“Jihoon,” you called, quietly.

He hummed, encouraging you to continue while turning to watch you again. With dying eyes.

Your heart hurt.

There was so much you wanted to ask him, then so much you wanted to tell him, then even more you wanted to ask him again. But all of that felt too complicated and you couldn’t bear it in that moment, sick of chaos and uncertainty.

So the simple question that won the race to fall off your tongue was “can I kiss you?”

Jihoon quickly looked surprised, eyes wide and exposed in your direction. Despite the heartbeat in your ears and the nervous lump in your throat as you put your happiness on the line, you found yourself wondering for what reason he was surprised. Was he surprised that you wanted to kiss him or that you had asked to?

But the internal question dwindled away once Jihoon’s expression morphed into one of wonder, panic and dread beginning to swell in the pit of your stomach. You thought you started sensing nausea as the muscle in your chest pounded violently, meeting Jihoon’s stupefaction with a face probably drained of all color.

Until he nodded, ever so subtly.

You stopped breathing, stopped feeling, stopped working. Surely, you must have been mistaken, you thought.

“Really?” you asked, dumbly, all bodily functions frozen.

Jihoon tried to suppress a chuckle at your comical disbelief, smile radiant on his face.

“Yeah.”

For some reason you hesitated. Before leaning in and pressing your lips to his. And butterflies made themselves at home among your innards. And cozy warmth grew from your chest before spreading into the rest of your body. And Jihoon’s hand held your neck while yours clenched his shirt. And his tongue was soft as you licked it slowly. And he tasted stronger of wine than you did. And his scent was so comfortable and disarming. And you realized that you had been the one to ask him for a gift, even though it was his birthday. And you pulled away. And he pulled you back. And you melted in his arms. And his fingers grazed the skin under your shirt. And your own brushed through the dark locks of his hair. And a tingling heat started to whine below your navel. And you kissed and kissed and kissed, the moon and your cheering heart your only other witnesses.

Your heavy, materialized breaths mingled in the air between you as Jihoon pulled away, half-lidded eyes watching you unerringly. You could feel the deep color that stained the surface of your cheeks, enjoying that Jihoon had it, too. Pleasant tingles danced inside your rib cage and the low temperatures around you were no longer as bothersome.

Then Jihoon cursed, his head hanging.

Slightly alarmed, you voiced a breathy “what?”

Jihoon held and released a breath, then met your gaze again.

“The apartment’s filled with people. We can’t go there.”

Your heart skipped a beat then, breath hitching for a moment. Because there was only one thing he could have been implying with such a statement, the dilated pupils of his eyes only supporting your suspicions.

Jihoon did not wait for a reply, as he soon dove in to leave gentle kisses along your neck and it felt so good you didn’t realize when your eyelids fell shut again. But still, you couldn’t help but wonder why he would have wanted to go even further with you.

You let your eyes meet his as he pulled away again and held you, all but breathing into your mouth.

“How far away is your place, again?” he asked.

A few moments passed but no words fell from your tongue, speechlessness choking at your ability to speak.

Jihoon noticed, suddenly looking worried.

“A-are you alright?”

Your muscles tensed then, figure instinctively leaning into him.

“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just-... Are you sure you wanna-.... with me?”

A frown formed wrinkles across Jihoon’s shadowy forehead and he needed a moment before answering.

“Wha- Yes, yes. I want to.”

“Why?”

His gaze shifted between your eyes, occasionally your lips, before his light touch tickled your jaw softly, a sigh escaping his lungs.

“Well, because I’m attracted to you. I guess.”

Your whole body felt as though it was set aflame then, dopamine creating a delightful daze that doubtlessly made your eyes light up.

“Are you really?” you questioned, words tasting like sugar.

Jihoon grinned tenderly, nodding before confirming that “yes, I am”.

Of course you couldn’t resist.

So the two of you took the next bus to your apartment, exchanging shy looks and repressed giggles through lighthearted conversation as he held your hand through the ride and you were on cloud nine. After arriving at your place, a couple of moments passed of endearing awkwardness before either of you found the courage to make a move again. But eventually he did, in turn leading you to your bed where the two of you gently undressed one another between kisses and more repressed giggles. Giggles which later turned into moans and grunts and your hands gripping onto the skin of his back and his breathy praises brushing against the side of your neck and your sticky foreheads pressed together. He called you beautiful and made you feel beautiful and all you knew how to respond with were whiny gasps of his name that he seemed to enjoy wholeheartedly. And your heart never stopped singing.

When you were watching something Netflix had recommended you a while afterwards, his shirt hugging your form and his lean fingers playing with yours, he turned to watch you instead of the movie that was playing. And he kept watching you until you were forced to watch back. And you noticed that his eyes were still dying. And your heart’s singing lowered in volume.

“Thank you,” his smooth voice told you, smile charming across the pink of his mouth.

You smiled, too, looking down bashfully for a second. And you heard the small crack that formed in the walls of your heart but were too scared to ask the question which could have given you the answer capable of mending that crack. Because another answer to the same question could have broken your heart entirely.

“Happy birthday,” you said, making Jihoon grin and you loved him.

You knew he didn’t feel the same about you as you did about him. And now your heart knew it, too. But you also knew that he did feel something for you, whatever that something may have been. And for tonight, that was enough.

[silverinia]

I came for Baranski, I stayed for Baranski - a quick Christmas On The Square review someone* actually asked for

(* thank you, anon)

Disclaimer: I am in no way a professional of any sorts when it comes to film and I'm not a journalist either. The last movie review I've written was probably for a school assignment in eighth grade. I didn't do research for this and I've watched the movie exactly one time, so this is just for fun.

It was a Sunday, Sunday the 22nd of November, nearing the end of the train wreck of a year that is 2020. I woke up on an air mattress around seven am, my head aching, my throat itching with pyrosis and light nausea, it was still dark outside behind the closed blinds in front of the windows, when I slowly realised where I was, one of my best girlfriends sleeping next to me in her bed. I had crashed at her place after a warm, fuzzy evening of mulled wine, tacky Christmas movies I would never watch alone (Christmas Chronicles and Holiday Calendar, which I quite honestly didn't enjoy at all, but the company made it fun anyway), doing our nails, wearing the fun kind of face masks for a change and smoking too many cigarettes, as the soft pain in my head informed me right now. She woke up an hour later and the morning went by with coffee and reheated pizza for breakfast, when we decided to watch another movie and I realised that it was THE Sunday I'd been waiting for through Zoom interviews and Dolly Parton twitter memes and the infamous wig gate that will be briefly discussed in the following, and so we clicked on the small icon in the Netflix menu that said "Christmas On The Square".

And oh boy, was it a ride.

To start off, I should mention that I have a hard time watching most modern day American Christmas movies, as I noticed quite vividly again when I watched the two aforementioned Netflix productions last night. The character development is always foreseeable to say the least, the plot lines are plain clichés hunting each other like they're the kids in The Hunger Games, and the writing is generally so bad that you can join the actors in reciting the entire scripts on your first watch. I watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas once a year while I'm gift wrapping and pause every fifteen minutes to shamelessly stare at forties Christine Baranski (I think we should all turn away from the birth of Jesus and instead count our years based on Christine Baranski's date of birth) in flamboyant nightgowns and short Christmas themed dresses, looking so fabulous that every interpreter of Santa Baby ever could only dream of it, I watch Love Actually at least five times a year to lust over Hugh Grant, cry with Emma Thompson and miss Alan Rickman, I enjoy Bridget Jones, which I would definitely consider a Christmas movie, and that's it. That's my yearly Christmas time entertainment routine and I can barely tolerate anything beyond, because I'm still traumatised from the time when I was around five years old and on a holiday family visit where had to sit through National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, the dumbest movie I have ever seen (my apologies if you like it but also, who hurt you?), with my cousins. I hated it. I hated every minute of it. And it scarred me for life.

But this was a Christine Baranski movie, I knew she was going to play the lead and so I was pretty much as excited about this as I could. And the fact that Dolly Parton wrote the whole thing didn't hurt either. As I said earlier to my friend I was watching it with, I have the pop cultural taste of a fifty year old gay man, a quality I am most proud of, and this simply ticked off all my boxes.

I expected something similar to a Mamma Mia experience that wouldn't cause me to crave packing my bags, give Covid the finger and run off to Greece. Light-hearted entertainment, easy to stomach, uplifting music and so little plot that the simplicity feels like a creative choice. That's what my pained, hungover brain knew it could cope with and that's not what I got.

The movie started and I was immediately in the zone. I saw Christine Baranski's name in the front credits (an experience that never fails to make me scream "Yass Queen" at the screen, regardless of where I am and who I'm with, as if I'm the sobering result that pops out of the package when you order Jonathan Van Ness on Wish), the setting was wonderfully corny (I grew up watching Gilmore Girls once a week, so give me warm fairy lights and a gazebo and I'm perfectly happy) and as my friend wondered whether Dolly Parton, in her exaggerated homeless attire that didn't make her look shabby at all, was green-screened into the setting because she stood out so much (which she was because the background dancers were dancing in slow motion, but to be fair, we were probably still a little too drunk to notice that from the start) and I told her I thought that it was just the natural glow someone who's Dolly Parton simply carries with them everywhere they go, I was happy. This was the movie I was prepared for. A movie in which the most problematic thing would be stereotypical characters and the wig they hid Christine's real, flawlessly handmade by God herself hair under.

And then, around five minutes in, Christine Baranski's childhood love interest was revealed as she pressed her perfect pointy nose against the window of his shop and sang about her unrequited love.

And suddenly, things started taking turns at a pace I was still way too sleep-deprived for.

Suddenly, in the middle of my general amazement at seeing Christine Baranski do literally anything and laughing loud at her impeccable comedic delivery, there were unresolved daddy issues, hanging prominently at the wall in her marvellously designed house (she literally says "Daddy" at one point and I couldn't help but think that only someone with her vocal skills could keep from making it sound cringe-worthily kinky). One moment, I was clutching my chest above my heart while she was bonding with little bartender Violet and munching on pretzels while downing some whiskey in that elegant way only Christine Baranski can bond with ten year olds who had it rough, eat pretzels and down whiskey, and the next she felt responsible for said girl's mother's death (which she kinda was too, but I'm not the boss of her). I was still busy making fun of how the very annoyingly, but when you're snacking on pizza with extra cheese at nine in the morning also highly funny, slow talking pastor's name was Christian, and suddenly there was a cancer scare.

It was a lot, a hasty sprint from major issue to major issue with a hint of comedic relief every now and then, and it didn't get any less until the very, rather poorly resolved, end.

The entire, constant up and down was followed by the movie's peak of suspense, the near death of precious Violet, something I couldn't even get too invested in because I was still so busy worrying about Christine's MRT results (I was truly fucking worried), not to mention that I hadn't even started to really process the sudden revelation of the love child and how it had affected her character's actions until this point. Was her constant tendency of pushing people away, as we've seen most clearly with her angel in training assistant who's name I cannot recall right now, the result of her broken trust in her father who practically ripped her son away from her after she had just given birth to him? Was it a result of her never getting the closure she needed with plaid flannel wearing Carl she was clearly still in love with? Maybe both? And what of the many issues was it that made her so incredibly shaken up when Violet blamed herself for her mother's death? Was it 'just' due to the fact that the closed pharmacy was on her, or was there more to it? Was it because she had grown up without a mother herself? Or did I miss a major piece of information because I was momentarily distracted, dumbfoundedly staring at Christine's very blue eyes? No time to ponder on that, little Silverinia, because here comes unconscious Violet in an ambulance, WEE WOO WEE WOO WEE WOO!

I'm not going to go in depth about what plot lines I thought were especially carelessly handled and why, real standouts were the sudden forgiveness towards her father who had still acted like a shitty asshole even though he might have had his reasons, because giving the baby up for adoption just wasn't his choice to make, and the fact that I kind of didn't buy how quickly Regina managed to forgive herself, especially for Violet's mother's passing, considering how deeply her tall, slim, dare I say angelic and entrancing figure was buried beneath the weight of all her issues. It felt rushed and incomplete, but that's as detailed as it gets because my major point is something else.

I think this movie made the great mistake of trying to be more than your average, flat, happy ending Christmas movie. I think no one involved thought it was possible to make it a big hit if the only real plot would've been great Dolly Parton music, fun ensemble dance choreographies, Christine Baranski's outstanding acting skills, fun settings and costumes and a redemption arch with as little plot as it could possibly take to make Christine likable to those who aren't already lost forever in the rabbit hole of being obsessed with her (poor fuckers, can't relate). They didn't notice that with the legends that were involved, they could've easily gone the Mamma Mia way. And I think that's why they tried to include heavier plot lines than most creators would've chosen, experiencing loss at an early age, struggling to find closure, dealing with sickness, teenage pregnancy, parents forcing their choices on their children when they affect their childrens' lives first, adoption, and the fear of losing your kid.

It was a lot and I don't want to say that it didn't work because my friend was crying, like, pretty hard and I questioned my entire existence all through the movie in not the worst way, and I did enjoy it a lot while watching. The "grief is love with nowhere to go" line was a real standout, for example, where the attempt of complexity DID work. It positively gave me fleabag season two, "I don't know what to do with it now, with all the love I have for her." - "I'll take it. It sounds lovely. You have to give it to me." feels, and that's about the biggest praise I can come up with. BUT (and this is written in capital letters because it's the big but) I'm also totally convinced that I wouldn't have enjoyed it if they hadn't cast Christine Baranski for the lead role. In my humble opinion, the hasty, not really at all resolved plot of this movie only worked because Christine Baranski is just a fantastic actress. She quirks a mocking eyebrow and you laugh. She parts her perfectly painted red lips and you immediately hang on them because you don't want to miss a single breath she, a literal goddess, graces us mere peasants of people with. She smiles and you're happy. She laughs and even while she's still laughing, you can't wait to hear her do it again. Her eyes fill with tears and you feel goosebumps on your arms, her voice slightly trembles, a breath hitches in her throat and you feel your heart shattering to pieces. As Chuck Lorre once said, this woman could read you the phone book and you would end up laughing tears because she just gets the job done. She knows what she's doing, she's an absolute pro in her game, and it doesn't matter, not even a little bit, what she's working with, because the work she eventually delivers with it is always at a minimum of 200%. I forced my friend to watch this movie with me because I adore this woman, and I felt for this movie because I felt for her. It wasn't the plot that sadly brutally overestimated itself, it wasn't the songs that I obviously enjoyed, nor the comedic elements that truly made me laugh a lot, it was all her. I came for Baranski, and I stayed for Baranski. This woman can do anything. She can even look graceful in a terrible wig job.

(side note / unpopular opinion: I actually didn't think the wig was all too bad. It wasn't good, actually far from good, but for me, nothing can match the awful wig game of Mamma Mia 2. I loathed that wig, I absolutely cannot stand it. So this didn't feel all that terrible. It definitely wasn't the most problematic part about the movie.)

I enjoyed watching this. It was a nice distraction from all the bullshit in the world. Watching it today was the first thing this year that actually brought me something close to excitement about the holiday season, even though everything will be very different and probably not quite as jolly this year. But it just gave me good vibes and as someone who did not watch this as a film reviewer, that's the biggest part of what leads me to enjoy a movie.

Will I watch this again? For sure. Will I enjoy it when I'm not hungover, having freshly done nails and munching delicious pizza for breakfast? Probably not as much, but it'll still have Christine Baranski in it. Would I recommend watching this? If you share my obsession with Queen B, one hundo. If you don't, probably not.

[artificialqueens]

You're the Best Part (Heidi x Jaida) - Frankenvenus

a/n i wrote for this pairing cause of the way heidi and jaida talk about how close they got on the show which is so cute. i thought fuck it! let’s write a pregnancy au. the title is a lyric from best part by daniel caeser & h.e.r - 2 very talented black artists.

.

Jaida didn’t plan it. She had been with her deadbeat boyfriend for seven months before realising she didn’t swing his way. She ended up coming out to him over a very uncomfortable dinner date, and before she could even register what was going on, he had packed everything of his from her small Wisconsin home and left.

It was difficult at first. When your life revolves around this one person, it’s hard to find meaning when things are just over. Heidi helped - of course. Heidi from across the street - Jaida’s ride or die. There wasn’t a dull moment around the younger woman. Although the break up was rough and sudden, Heidi was by Jaida’s side to ease the pain.

Then, out of nowhere, Jaida fell sick. She would just be sitting, minding her own business when she would suddenly feel nauseated. She would have to rush to the bathroom and throw up, then she’d sit there for hours afterwards, head pounding painfully at the mere thought of food. It wasn’t until Heidi came over did Jaida move from her position. The young blonde rushed towards where she lay on the bathroom floor, placing a hand on her forehead.

“Jesus, girl. You are burning up. Let me get you some Tylenol or something I-” she yanked open Jaida’s medicine cabinet above her sink, rummaging through it for any kind of pain killer. “Are you food poisoned? It wasn’t my soup, was it? Fuck, I knew it smelt funny.”

Jaida groaned, wisps of her brown hair clinging to her forehead with sweat. She felt disgusting. She felt even worse having to tell Heidi that she hadn’t touched her soup. She just wasn’t feeling it. She had started to have strong cravings for peanut butter over the previous few days, so she had only really been eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for meals.

Upon telling Heidi this, the young blonde’s face dropped.

“Cravings?”

“Mhm.”

“Bitchhh,” the girl bit her lip and she looked at Jaida with a strange expression, “When was the last time you, you know… did it?”

“Did what?”

Heidi thought over how to say what she wanted to respectfully, without crossing the line. After dodging the big word with many synonyms to no avail, she just said it straight up. “When did you last get fucked?”

The older woman’s jaw went slack, suddenly feeling like passing out. She gripped the bottom of the sink to steady herself. She and her ex-boyfriend had had sex at least twice in the month prior to their break-up, and although she had been taking her birth control, he had consistently refused to wear a condom. Jaida remembered from her college reproductive biology class that 1 in 100 women would get pregnant on the pill annually. She really hoped she had food poisoning instead of being part of the unlucky 1%. She directed Heidi to the emergency pregnancy test in her cabinet, and the blonde promptly waited outside whilst Jaida followed the instructions printed on the box.

“Can you please talk to me whilst I wait? Distract me with your dumbass stories or somethin’,” Jaida joked, but her voice was shaky.

“Did I ever mention I’m a dom top?” Heidi began, and Jaida almost choked. “Yeah, I like tied a gal to the bed once. She said I was really good at it, but I wouldn’t know. She sounded super bored so I wanted to impress her. Her name was like… Dahlia, I think… and when I was fucking her I couldn’t stop thinking about the Black Dahlia and how when they found her body her mouth had been cut into a smile-”

“Preferably not about murder, Heidi. Chile…” Jaida tried to sound angry, but god it was hard. The fact that she was sitting here, possibly pregnant, after throwing up non-stop and Heidi could still elicit a laugh from her blew her mind.

Five minutes passed, Heidi continued to lie about being a dom-top, and then it was time to check the test.

“Heidi? Can you come in and look for me? I don’t think I can do it myself,” breathed Jaida, and her friend nodded without a word. The brunette clenched her fists subconsciously, looking at the floor whilst Heidi picked up the small stick.

“What do the two red lines mean again?” asked the blonde.

Fuck.

.

Jaida had made the decision not to tell her ex-boyfriend, the father of her soon-to-be child, that she was pregnant. She had heard from mutual friends that he had left the state and moved to Illinois, but quite frankly, she didn’t care.

Her mom had been overjoyed upon finding out, for she had always wanted to be a grandmother. She promised to support Jaida as a single mother throughout her pregnancy and her child’s life.

However, the most supportive person in the brunette’s life at that moment in time was Heidi. Heidi would always knock on the door and bring round a dish that matched Jaida’s daily cravings, she would buy her non-alcoholic wine so they could still drink and watch movies together, she would tend to Jaida when her mourning sickness got back and she would attend every single one of her friend’s check-ups. Jaida was starting to believe Heidi was her guardian angel - because she sure looked like it.

They sat together in the waiting room for Jaida’s second ultrasound. She was nearing her second trimester, and although it was small, there was a visible bump on her stomach. Heidi couldn’t take her hands off it. The blonde held a cheap magazine in one hand and kept her other hand on Jaida’s tummy, awaiting the feeling of a kick (although Jaida had told her it was likely too early for that.) Heidi mocked the trashy magazine headlines while they waited, causing the brunette to laugh so hard she almost cried.

“Girl, one day you’re gonna make this fuckin’ baby shoot out of me five months early cause I’ve been laughing too hard,” Jaida wheezed, gripping the side of the uncomfortable waiting room chair. People around them stared, but they didn’t pay attention.

Heidi gasped, “Oh my goodness Jaida, you can’t curse! What if your baby hears? You don’t want it to pop out of your coochie trash talking like its mommy…”

“Shut up bitch!”

Before they could disturb their surroundings anymore, a nurse entered and called them in. Jaida sat herself down on the chair and the nurse reclined it back slightly. Heidi sat on a small stool to the left of Jaida, watching Jaida with a shit-eating grin on her face. The sonographer, Dr Cox, entered the room, pulling gloves onto her slender hands.

“Well, I can see you have developed a small bump since your last check-up with me,” Dr cox smiled, applying lubricating jelly to Jaida’s stomach to prevent friction from the ultrasound transducer. The gel sent shivers through the brunette, but Heidi reached for her hand and warmed her up. “How are you feeling?” asked the sonographer.

“I’m feeling great. The sickness and nausea have kinda gone away. I’ve been having lots of cravings though,” Jaida sighed, “But it’s all good. Heidi over here got me a Build-a-Bear as a baby shower gift, but it’s more so for me than the baby.”

Dr Cox chuckled as Heidi flipped her hair like the proud best-friend she was.

“Isn’t it early for baby gifts? You don’t even know the gender yet!” Dr Cox said as she hovered the transducer over Jaida’s stomach.

Heidi cut in, “I think she’s plannin’ to raise the baby neutral. She’s gonna let it decide what it wants as it gets older. Until then, we are dressing it rainbow.”

Dr Cox couldn’t help but grin as she stared into the ultrasound, and Jaida felt her face heat up, hoping that the doctor wouldn’t notice. There was just something about the way Heidi spoke with such confidence and conviction that made Jaida’s heart swell in ways she didn’t know it could. What also caused the brunette’s head to spin was the way Heidi said we. They were going to raise this child together.

“Well, of course you can raise the baby gender-neutral. That’s a great idea,” Dr Cox chuckled, moving the transducer across, “But, I can tell you the sex. I can see it right here!”

Jaida’s eyes widened, “You can?”

“Mhm. Do you wanna know?”

“Uh, yes please. Duh.”

Dr Cox pointed at the screen as Jaida and Heidi watched curiously, “Thatis a little girl!”

Jaida tipped her head back in pure bliss. Although she hadn’t spoken it out loud, she had desperately wanted a girl.

“I am so happy. No loud ass boys in this house!” Heidi clapped with glee.

“You don’t even live with me,” Jaida laughed.

“I may as well!”

.

“Do you have a name for it?” Heidi asked whilst Jaida was biting into a hot pickle - the eight one she had eaten that day.

“Yeah, but it’s a surprise,” Jaida winked with a mouthful of food, “You’re just gonna have to wait and see.”

The blonde slammed her dainty hands on the table, “Bitch! Tell me.”

“Girl, I said surprise. You only have about a month to wait.”

Jaida was right. Her bump was ginormous, to the point that she couldn’t see her toes anymore, and it was clear that the baby was well on its way. Her back hurt constantly, her boobs had swollen their way out of most of her bras, and her hormones were going nuts. She was horny all the time, and incredibly touch starved. Despite having no love for her boyfriend, she missed the feeling of nuzzling her nose into his neck or having filthy words whispered in her ear whilst she was showering.

Every time the brunette looked at Heidi - plump lips, button nose and all - she tried to suppress the need to intertwine their fingers, rub her thigh or gently kiss her forehead. Jaida blamed the thoughts about her friend on the hormones, but deep down she knew there was more to it.

She still hadn’t grown tired of Heidi, even though they had spent practically every minute of the past eight months together. Heidi would still make her warm soup, brew her cups of tea and come over with bags of chips for Jaida, and she would never hesitate. The brunette felt like she owed her life to the younger woman.

It was Heidi’s idea to get the baby’s heartbeat tattooed. They had been given a picture by Dr Cox, and as a birthday gift for Jaida, Heidi had taken her to her friends Widow and Crystal’s tattoo parlour just out of town. The two girls were very well known for their minimalistic yet stylish tattoo designs, and they worked on dark skin flawlessly, unlike many other tattooists in the state. Heidi handed the picture to Widow and the latter was more than excited to execute the idea.

Jaida, being the overly cautious mother-to-be that she was, forced Crystal to thoroughly clean the needle right in front of her out of fear of hurting the child with infection. Crystal assured her that everything was fine and perfectly hygienic, but the brunette didn’t believe it until Heidi told her so. She finally relaxed as Widow pressed the needle against the soft skin of her upper arm.

“How does it look so far?” Jaida asked Heidi through gritted teeth.

“It’s gorgeous.”

“I wish my mom got tattoos done when she was pregnant with me,” Crystal chuckled, preparing the petroleum ointment that she would gently apply on Jaida’s skin once Widow had finished. “That’s so badass.”

“It was all Heidi’s idea,” Jaida smiled, nearly fainting when the apple’s of Heidi’s cheeks reddened slightly.

.

They were in line at Wendy’s when it happened. Jaida had been craving a spicy chicken sandwich, so Heidi drove her there without debate. The place was busy, so they were waiting for quite a while. Jaida earned a few stares, which was understandable considering she was heavily pregnant. And then she felt it.

“Oh my God, why does it feel like I’m fucking peeing?” Jaida gulped, her heartbeat quickening with distress. “Am I peeing? I didn’t need the bathroom? I feel like my bladder bopped…”

Heidi gasped and grabbed Jaida’s hand, “Holy fuck Jaida, I read about this. Your water just broke!”

It made sense. Jaida’s due date was set for the next week, but for some reason, the brunette hadn’t considered the child being anything but on time. She found it really cute that Heidi had done her research, though she hardly had time to register it because she was being rushed back to the car.

“What about my chicken sandwich?” she frowned as Heidi pressed her foot down on the pedal.

“Fuck your chicken sandwich! We gotta go!”

Thankfully, the hospital wasn’t far. Within ten minutes, they had reached the large building and were being attended to by multiple nurses.

“Oh fuck!” Jaida whimpered as she felt a heavy pressure press against her pelvis, not unlike a period cramp. The nurses told her not to worry, as she was just experiencing contractions, but she was worrying a lot.

Quicker than she could express her feelings, Heidi sensed them. She reached for Jaida’s shaky hand and gripped it, bringing her lips to it and kissing it gently multiple times.

The action was friendly, but it for sure eased Jaida’s pain.

“Heidi can you… can you call my mom?”

“Sure, hon.”

Hon. It seemed like such a domesticated pet name. Jaida felt like crying.

Ten minutes later, Jaida’s mom burst into the hospital room, looking glamorous as ever. Jaida was the spitting image of her, and Heidi found herself wondering if Jaida’s child would be the same.

“Are you okay, sweetie pie?” her mom asked, pushing past Heidi and grabbing her daughter’s hand comfortingly.

“I’m fine. Slightly uncomfortable, though.”

Jaida was still yet to go into labour, but the doctors and nurses had advised that she stay put at the hospital because it was likely that she would start soon. She was extremely nervous. Growing up, she had always found the prospect of birth disgusting and painful. Now that she was experiencing it - she was right. Her head was sticky with sweat, her lips were dry and the milk that had started coming in two days prior had caused her to feel constantly uncomfortable. To her surprise, Heidi had shown her how to use the breast pump, so now she had many cups of milk sitting in the fridge, waiting for baby Hall to arrive.

It wasn’t long before Jaida went into labour, and Heidi stayed by her the entire time (after having to argue with a nurse to try and convince her that she was practically family.) Their hands stayed connected through the entire process, and Heidi whispered Jaida comforting promises whilst the latter screamed in pain and agony.

Jaida didn’t cry often, but in the four hours that it took to deliver her baby, she must’ve cried her entire body mass. She cried harder after Heidi softly whispered in her ear, ‘We can do this together.’ She knew she couldn’t cope simply being Heidi’s best friend and next-door neighbour anymore. She wanted Heidi. Even more so, she wanted Heidi to be her child’s second parent. It was a huge thing to ask, and she told herself that she would never seriously ask it, but she knew that Heidi would make an incredible mom.

After hours of sobbing, the only cries that filled the room were the cries of Jaida’s beautiful little baby. The baby’s small head was already covered with little black curls upon delivery, and Jaida couldn’t help but stroke them softly whilst the newborn fell asleep in her arms. The baby’s nose was small and cute and Heidi had already gently booped it about fifteen times.

“It’s so tiny,” Jaida’s mom gaped.

“Look at its little hands,” Heidi added.

“Y’all wanna know what I decided to call it?” questioned Jaida, and both women nodded profusely, “I decided to call it Willow cause it’s kinda unisex and the willow tree on our street started growing right when I found out I was pregnant. It cannot be a coincidence.”

For the first time that day, Jaida watched as Heidi’s eyes became glassy. They quickly became filled with tears that spilt over after she said, “I love it.”

Jaida looked into Heidi’s eyes and saw something there that she hadn’t seen before. Both their eyes were dark and stared deeply into one another, further past what each of them saw.

“Momma, can you take Willow for a second? I need a moment with Heidi here,” the brunette asked and her mom nodded, carefully scooping the sleeping baby from her daughter’s arms. She stepped out of the room and into the hallway, leaving Jaida and Heidi there alone.

“Thank you for being here,” Jaida sniffled, reaching forward to take her friend’s soft hands, “I really don’t know how I would’ve coped without you. You have helped me more these past nine months than anyone has ever had. I owe you everything.”

“Girl, you’re gonna make me so emotional,” Heidi giggled through her tears, “I am so proud of you. You really said fuck this baby daddy I’m gonna birth this child all alone and raise it alone cause I’m the baddest bitch alive.”

The brunette bit her lip before placing her hand on the side of Heidi’s face nervously, causing the blonde’s lips to part subconsciously, “But I didn’t do it alone. I did it with you.”

Before either of them could say another word, Heidi pulled Jaida in by the back of her neck and tipped their lips up to meet one another in the softest, gentlest kiss either of them had ever experienced. It was nothing like the ones Jaida shared with her ex-boyfriend - those had no meanings - but this meant the world. Nine months of pent up emotions spilt out into the intimate embrace. Heidi’s lips explored Jaida’s hesitantly, like she was made of glass, but the brunette assured her not to be afraid by gently dragging her tongue across the blonde’s lower lip.

After another minute, they pulled away, breathless. They kept staring into one another’s eyes, looking for answers, until Jaida was the first to say it.

“I love you,” she muttered, “I have loved you this whole damn time.”

“I love you too,” Heidi wept, pressing her lips against Jaida’s flushed cheek briefly.

“Heidi I- I don’t know how to tell you this but I… I want you to be Willow’s mom, along with me. I want us to parent this kid together. I can’t do it alone.”

Heidi gasped, “Oh my lord I was waiting for you to ask that.”

“Chile… Are you serious?”

“Yes, bitch! I’ve always wanted to raise a child and teach it my ways and Willow… Willow is so beautiful. Just like their momma. Of course I wanna raise this baby with you.”

“I love you so, so much.”

.

11 months later

Jaida and Heidi had made an agreement that Jaida was to be called mom and Heidi was momma, to avoid any confusion, however, Willow was still yet to form a real word. Willow was a fantastic babbler and had perfected the art of incoherent sounds and blowing raspberries, but nothing that had escaped their lips was actually in the dictionary.

“Oh lord, what if Willow never speaks… What if they grow up mute?” Jaida panicked, her head in her hands against the kitchen counter.

“Calm down, baby,” Heidi sighed, placing her hand on the small of her girlfriend’s back, “If they’ve got even a fragment of your brain, I just know they’re gonna be a smartass.”

“Smartass!”

A voice echoed across the room. Heidi shoved Jaida gently for mocking her, but Jaida defended herself, promising that it wasn’t her who said it. They were confused for a second before the realisation dawned on them. They rushed towards Willow’s crib where the child sat, sucking on the floppy ear of a stuffed toy.

“What did you just call me, Willow Essence Anthonie-Hall?” Jaida squinted, leaning over the crib to watch her baby’s lips curl up into a smile.

“Smartass,” Willow grinned, causing Heidi nearly to pass out with laughter.

Jaida scooped Willow up and held them over her head, “You can’t say that! Heidi, tell Willow that they can’t say that!”

Heidi was wheezing too hard to respond, but after a minute of bellowing laughter, she managed to say, “Willow ain’t wrong!”

“Not only am I being bullied by my girlfriend, but also my almost 1-year-old kid,” she faux-gasped, “I’m leaving!” she joked, before bursting into laughter. Things couldn’t have been better.

[lettuce-seize-the-day]

Found ch. 5

AO3 link

Summary:  Jack Kelly is a 17 year old kid who has been in the foster system for more of his life than not. By now he's given up on finding his forever family and is counting down the days until he turns 18. Four months before the deadline, Miss Medda Larkin decides she is going to adopt him.

Chapter summary: The boys and Medda have dinner together. Medda reminds each of them that she is there for them. They do not hear her. Jack and Race are not okay.

TW: self harm and eating disorder stuff

That evening, they all sat down to dinner together. “How was the first day?” Medda asked the table.

Race shrugged. “Same old, same old. Nice to see David and Katherine again, though.”

“You oughta invite them over for dinner some night soon! It’s been too long,” said Medda.

“Yeah, fuh-sure,” said Race. “Maybe lata this week?”

“Absolutely. I’d love that,” said Medda. “What about you, Jack?” she asked.

“What about me?”

“How do you like the school?”

Jack took a bite of pasta. “Same as all th’others I been ta, I s’pose. S’fine.” He was mostly focused on watching Race, and trying not to seem like he was watching Race. Race was watching him watch him. “Race ‘n I got chemistry class togedda.”

“Oh, ain’t that somethin’!” said Medda. “It’ll be nice for you two to get to spend some time together in school.”

“We’s sit togedda at lunch, too,” said Race, taking a huge bite of food and making sure Jack saw. “So’s Crutchie.”

“Yeah, it’s fun,” said Crutchie. What he didn’t say, and what no one else did, was that he wouldn’t have anyone else to sit with if Race hadn’t invited him to his table. He’d only had one friend in his grade, who he had sat with at lunch every day since he had started going to school, and she moved away over the summer. As sweet and funny as Crutchie was, he had pretty severe social anxiety, which made making friends difficult. He just didn’t know how to initiate conversations, and with his crutch, people were slow to do it for him.

“He’s thinkin’a tryin’ out for theatre,” Race said proudly. “I think he’d be great at it.”

“I dunno, it was just a thought I had,” Crutchie said shyly. “Youz all just seem so close and so happy when ya get ta perform togedda. I dunno if they’d even let me in, though, on account’a my leg.”

“Well, you boys already know how I feel about the theatre,” said Medda. That was for sure. She was the owner of an off-Broadway theater. She was a very passionate advocate of the arts, and did all she could to make that abundantly clear. “Ain’t no better place to escape trouble. And there’s something for everyone.”

“That’s exactly what Katherine said,” said Race. “I dunno when auditions are, but ya betta believe I’ll letcha know when I do.”

“Jack, do you think you’d audition?” asked Medda.

Jack took a final bite from his plate. “Nah, prolly not,” he said as he stood up. “Thanks fer dinner, Medda. It was great.” He set his plate in the sink and went down the hall back to his room.

Medda looked a bit distraught. “Somethin’ I said?” she asked Race and Crutchie.

Race shook his head. “Nah, he jus’ needs some space. He don’t wanna get involved wid anythin’ here or get too close to anyone.”

“How do you know that?” she asked him.

Race looked at her and gave a small, sad smile. “‘Cuz that’s how I was, when I got here this time last year.”

Crutchie took his dishes to the sink. He cleared his throat and gave Medda a kiss on the top of her head. “Thank you for dinner, Medda. I gotta go get some homework done.”

“Alright, hon. I’m just down the hall if you need me, got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said as he walked himself out of the kitchen.

For a minute, they continued eating in silence. Then, Medda said, “Race, can I ask ya somethin’?”

Race looked up from his mostly-finished plate, a bit nervous. “Sure, Medda. What’s up?”

“I was just curious, what made you… stop feeling that way? What made you feel like you belonged?”

He tried not to look too relieved. “Uh… I dunno, I’d hafta think about it.” He took a slow, painful bite, even though he already felt full. He was trying to finish his food so what happened with Jack would never happen again. “I guess when I got ta start takin’ dance classes. Ya know, doin’ what I cared about. Helped me find my place, and wanna find a place.” What he didn't tell her was that he really never stopped feeling that way, not fully, and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it.

“So you think if I could help Jack find what he cares about, he might feel more welcome here?”

Race gave a shrug. “Ain’t no two fellas gonna work exactly the same way, but it sure seems worth a shot, don’t it?”

“I suppose it does,” said Medda. “I know he likes art… Maybe I could do somethin’ with that. Find him a club, or somethin’. They got any kinda art club at school?”

“Not sure. I’m sure there’s gotta be somethin, though. If anyone’ll figure it out, s’you. Ya gotta gift for helpin’ people.”

She gave him a look, then smiled as she ruffled his hair. “When did you get so smart?”

“I gotta good teacha,” he said, playfully pushing her off.

“You got that right. You finished?” she asked, gesturing to his mostly-empty plate.

“Yes I am, thank you, Medda,” he said, handing it to her. “I’m gonna go practice for dance class tomorra, alright?”

“Alright sweetie. You let me know if you need anything.”

“You got it,” he said, trying not to seem like he was rushing off. But he was. He did need to practice, that was true. But after he stood up, he was overwhelmed by how incredibly bloated and weighed down he felt from how much he had eaten. He started to panic, feeling suffocated by his own body. It was too much. It was too much. And he had to get rid of it.

____________________________________________________________

Jack did not feel good. Having people to sit with at lunch was nice, but also overwhelming. It had never happened before. Not like that. Up until now, he only ever sat with people at lunch when he was going to a school where sitting alone was against the rules and a group of do-gooders felt enough pity for him to let him sit with them. Now that he had had some time to himself, he couldn’t stop thinking about how weird he acted today. They must have pitied him, too. But he didn’t care what people thought. Except... that he did. He knew he could never make friends, but here were the kind of people he had been wishing to know for his entire life. And he didn’t know how, but he knew it was a trap. It had to be.

He was worried about Race. But what Race did or didn’t do was none of Jack’s business. He didn’t want him to cross a line he couldn’t come back from, but he also worried that he had crossed a line by asking him about it. He knew how much he hated it when people asked about his scars. At the same time, he worried that he didn’t do enough. How could one person be simultaneously too much and not enough? God, all he did was fuck up.

He needed to get out of his head. He grabbed his art supply bag and fumbled through it, looking for his special pencil sharpener which he knew was there. He pulled out the loose blade and held it in his hand. It had been awhile. But not terribly long. He hadn’t done it once since being here. This would be the first time. It was like seeing an old friend. He felt so many things at once; disappointment and disgust with himself for still doing this, relief at having something he had control over and knowing some things never change, sadness about letting Medda down, loneliness and despair because all he could do was let people down and it didn’t even matter because he’d be out of here soon enough. It was too much. It was all too much. The walls were closing in and he couldn’t breathe, there was no oxygen because the world around him was shrinking, squeezing the life out of him. He closed his eyes and did the only familiar thing. And then, he felt nothing at all. Just a sharp, familiar sting. He breathed a sigh of relief and kept going until the world came back into focus and his arm was covered in blood.

__________________________________________________________

Race sat hunched over the toilet bowl trying to catch his breath, the shower running to cover up the sound. His heart was pounding. Tears had forced their way out of his eyes. He cleared his throat, then slowly stood up on shaking legs, holding onto the counter for support. He closed the toilet lid and flushed. After taking a deep breath, he looked up into the mirror. His cheeks were red. His eyes were bloodshot. He didn’t look at the rest of his body- he couldn’t, not right now. He quickly brushed his teeth and shut the shower off. He splashed his face with cold water to bring the puffiness down.

He didn’t ever do this. He really didn’t. Only when his anxiety got the better of him. Usually, he just skipped meals here and there, and that was enough. But he didn’t like when people asked him about what he was eating. Or what he wasn’t. And he couldn’t risk Jack finding out. No one had, and he had to keep it that way. If anyone found out, he could lose dance. So he ate dinner. But it was too much. Too, too much. He had it under control and it wasn’t a big deal, but today was too much. It wouldn’t happen again. He promised himself it wouldn’t happen again, and did his best not to remember how he made that same promise to himself more often than he’d like to admit.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to focus on the positives. No one else suspected, and he’d be sure to keep Jack off his trail from now on. Besides, he wasn’t even underweight. Especially not for a dancer. There were people at his studio that he swore were just walking skeletons. He always watched them in awe and admiration, wondering how they didn’t shatter every time they landed a jump. He didn’t necessarily want to look quite like that, but he did notice that they tended to be more successful in the field.

Plus, there was Spot to think about. He knew it was naive, but he just couldn’t shake the thought that if he just had a nicer body, he would notice him.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. None of that mattered. He just needed to go practice. Everything always felt better when he was dancing. He washed his hands again, cupped some water in his hands and drank it, then looked in the mirror one last time. He looked normal, like nothing had happened at all.

[anistarrose]

Stan and Ford Vs. The Future - Chapter 2

Summary: One fateful night soon after returning to Gravity Falls, Ford is unexpectedly confronted with memories from a lifetime ago.

Warnings: implied references to past child abuse

The Beginning

Thank you for the great response on Chapter 1! I started this fic completely on a whim, but once I saw how much people were enjoying it, I knew I was going to continue it! Hope this update doesn’t disappoint!

I guess I’ll also count this as a submission for @forduary!

Ford is ransacking all the basement’s shelves and drawers and nooks and crannies in a seemingly futile search for his old magnet guns — Stan told him they were down here somewhere, but apparently couldn’t be bothered to elaborate — when he finds the box. It’s old, the cardboard practically decaying, and he’s honestly surprised he’s able to get it out of the closet without the whole thing falling apart in his hands, but there’s also something about it that feels indescribably familiar. It takes him a moment to realize that it’s because of the scrawled cursive label — Stanley and Stanford, 1961-1963 — that’s written in his mother’s handwriting.

He rifles through the contents: two reels of film, four photo albums. A comic book so old and well-read that the images are beginning to fade away entirely. Sheets of piano music, showing the notes to a familiar song, simple enough to be played by beginners but complex enough to be catchy. Notebooks filled from margin to margin with doodles of strange and wondrous creatures, dragons and cryptids and dinosaurs and aliens.

Ford recognizes everything, but while he remembers bringing some of it first to college and then out to Gravity Falls himself, there are other things — three of the four photo albums, the comic books, the piano music — that he hasn’t seen since… well, since 1963.

Ford has always thought he was the overly sentimental one, but here Stan is, not just holding on to his collection of keepsakes but adding to it.

Stan only would have had a chance to go home and pick up all of this when he was pretending to be you, a resentful whisper in the back of Ford’s head reminds him, but it’s far from the loudest voice, far from the loudest emotion. He picks up one of the photo albums, one that he doesn’t remember ever seeing outside of Glass Shard Beach, and steps into the elevator.

He hopes Stan is still awake, because the two of them need to talk. He’s not quite sure about what, but… they really need to. His grip tightens on the old album as he rises towards the ground floor, and for neither the first nor the last time in his life, he finds himself wondering what other paths he could have taken away from Glass Shard Beach, where the other diverging roads might have led him —

Over the whirr of the elevator, he first hears Stan’s tour-giving voice, and then two other ones — young, but not Dipper and Mabel’s, and out-of-place, but not unfamiliar. He steps out from behind the vending machine and into the gift shop, and the album falls from his hands.

Its spine strikes the floor first, and it falls open to a page with just one picture: two twin boys caught in a candid photo, staring at the camera with identical looks of surprise and confusion. Just a few feet away, the exact same boys stand before Ford, eyes wide and mouths agape like the picture come to life.

Behind them, Stanley grimaces and raises his hands in a gesture that can’t quite make up its mind between apologetic and defensive. “Okay, I know things look weird, but I promise I can… I can kinda explain? So, I was just minding my own business when —”

“Get away from them!” Ford barks. “Now!”

“What?” both Stanleys ask in unison. The young Stanford doesn’t say a word — just stares at Ford’s fingers, as his own reflexively curl into trembling fists at his side. It’s so easy to visualise the wheels turning in his head, the wheels that are shaking and locking up, like the system has been presented with an input it’s not designed to handle.

Ford points at the young twins, and then jabs his finger towards the space behind the gift shop counter. “Kids! Get behind there!”

The boys stare at him, unmoving.

“Now!” Ford barks, and with that, both of them do as they’re told. But young Stanley’s eyes flash with a look of fear for a moment, and Ford’s stomach churns with guilt.

“Stanford, what the hell?” Stan yells, apparently abandoning any sort of secrecy he might have been maintaining on the kids’ behalf. “What are you doing?”

“They’re from a parallel timeline! If either of us touches our counterpart, our dimension will completely collapse in on itself and disintegrate, with us and billions of other lives inside!”

Ford can feel the pounding of his own heart, and he’s not sure whether it’s the adrenaline, or that other drug of the body’s own producing — the sentimentality. “You should have told me about this immediately! What were you doing up here with them, giving them a tour? You could have ended the entire —”

“E-excuse me,” a quiet voice begins, and Ford turns away from Stan to see a small, owl-like pair of eyes peering up from behind the cash register. “But, Stan and… uh, my Stan and your Stan high-fived a couple minutes ago, and nothing happened. The universe didn’t disintegrate.”

“Yeah, we did,” young Stanley adds. He seems reluctant to make eye contact with Ford, and his voice has a slight nervous tremor to it — but Stanley’s never been the type to stand back and leave his brother on his own. “When he said Ford would be the first to die in a horror movie. I thought it was funny, so we high-fived —”

He finally looks up, and stares at older Ford with a resigned guilt in his eyes — just like how he’d look at Filbrick whenever he’d gotten into so much trouble that he knew no apology would be enough to avoid being punished.

“I — I didn’t know he was me then,” young Stanley stammers. “I didn’t know about — about dimensions, or parallel anythings, or… or… I’m sorry, Ford! I wasn’t trying to destroy the world, I promise!” There are tears in his eyes now, and young Stanford has one arm reached out towards his brother, but he’s frozen in place, as if paralyzed by indecision. Older Stan, for his part, is making a point of looking in the complete opposite direction, but his trembling, clenched fists betray everything one needs to know about his feelings.

And older Ford… he does one of the dumbest things he’s ever done in his life. He steps towards the counter, towards the children that could easily destroy the world alongside him and his brother, and places a completely bare, exposed hand on young Stan’s shoulder.

“I know,” he whispers, and all his emotions from when he found the box of keepsakes come rushing back, channeling across time and space and dimensions and reaching one Stanley Pines, but not the Stanley he’d thought he might be reconciling with tonight.

“I’m not mad at you, Stan. I promise.” That’s not entirely true for the older Stan, though a part of Ford honestly wishes more than anything that it could be, but he’s not going to say as much to this poor child, not now. “I shouldn’t have yelled like that. I’m sorry.”

He steps away from the kids, and finally, finally thinks to put on a pair of gloves. He’s afraid to look behind him and see how the older Stan has responded, so he instead awkwardly begins to speak again after a pause.

“But, I… I’m still a bit confused about this whole situation. By all accounts, our dimension shouldn’t have survived that high-five.”

“Maybe we just… traveled through time normally, instead of to another dimension?” young Ford suggests. “And like, we haven’t messed up anything yet that would make us diverge from your timeline?”

“That would explain it,” Ford replies, “if Stan and I had memories of this incident. But while I can only speak for myself, I’m fairly certain I don’t remember anything like this…”

“Time travel, man,” young Stanley mutters, “why you gotta be so complicated…”

“Remember,” Ford repeats to himself. “Oh, of course! That’s it! We have the memory gun!”

“What?” both of the boys ask in unison, just as the older Stan whirls around.

“What the hell kind of idea is that, Sixer?! Are you seriously about to wipe our own minds?”

“I’m just trying to protect us all, you idiot! If we don’t wipe their minds and return them to their own time, they’ll cease being us and become just different enough to destroy the world, in all likelihood! I’ve been dealing with more than enough chances of apocalypse since you reactivated the portal, thank you very much!”

“Oh, and remind me who it was who built that portal in the first place?”

“I told you not to restart it! It was your foolishness, your recklessness, that only exacerbated it all!”

“My recklessness? That’s rich coming from you! I can’t believe I ever thought you would thank me for saving your damn life, when here you are, acting like I’m the —”

Ford has no doubt that Stan is about to unleash some particularly scathing and profanity laced rant without any regard for the children present, but before he can, he’s interrupted by a sudden clattering noise. It takes a moment for either of them to realize that it’s the sound of the gift shop door slamming shut.

“Oh no,” Stan whispers as Ford turns to look behind the counter, and finds the space completely empty.

“Kids?!” he yells. “Kids, come back! I didn’t mean —”

They both rush outside, Ford activating the flashlight on his watch and scanning the surrounding field, but the younger twins are nowhere to be seen.

***

“I’m so sorry,” young Ford tells his brother. “I don’t know what I… what older me was thinking! I’d never wipe your mind!”

The decision to leave had been unanimous and unspoken, and was made the second the older twins had begun to argue again, voices dripping with a lifetime’s worth of unfamiliar bitterness and frustration and hostility. A lot can change in fifty years, but…

But they hadn’t sounded like twins. They’d sounded like strangers, who didn’t understand what the other had become — who didn’t even want to understand, maybe. They hadn’t sounded like Stan and Ford.

“That wasn’t you,” Stan declares with a certainty Ford wishes he could share. “You don’t really think we’ll end up like them, do you? There isn’t anything in the world that could make us like — like that.”

They’re sitting on the forest floor now, backs up against trees. Ford holds the broken time tape in his hands, turning it over and over and over, like eventually it’ll somehow whisk them away again — off to some alternate future where two brothers travel the world together, just as they always thought they would, just as it should be.

“I don’t want to think that’s how we’ll end up,” Ford murmurs. “But how else do you explain everything we just saw?”

“Easy, we musta just messed up the timeline or something! That happens in your nerd stories all the time, doesn’t it?”

Ford sighs. “Even if this wasn’t supposed to happen… how do we fix it?”

Stan starts to reply, but he’s cut off by an older and gruffer voice calling out from deep within the woods: “Kids? Are you there? Look, I know Ford and I said some things we — some things I regret, but you’ve gotta come back!”

From the opposite direction of the older Stanley’s voice, Ford sees the beam of a flashlight hovering between the trees like a ghost.

“Please, kids… I know how I sounded, and I don’t blame you for running away, but I just want to keep you safe, I promise…”

Stan stays still, but his wide and worried eyes make contact with Ford’s, and even in the dying evening light the message is clear: What do we do now?

Ford doesn’t have an answer, but even if he did, he wouldn’t have a chance to share it, because it’s at that moment that it feels like all hell is breaking loose.

First it’s a flash of brilliant blue-white light in the quickly falling darkness that blinds him, and then it’s the sudden clap of an explosion in the eerily peaceful forest that deafens him. He feels a hand on his shoulder, and for a moment he’s afraid he’s somehow brought about the apocalypse that his older self warned of, but the voice that speaks from behind him as he’s lifted into the air is unfamiliar.

“Time Paradox Avoidance Enforcement Squadron! Nobody move!” it barks, and then in a slightly lower voice, it adds: “You four are in a heap of trouble.”

***

Wr ila wkhlu zurqjv, wzr wlphv pxvw fodvk Zkr zloo zlq, wkh ixwxuh ru sdvw?

Thanks for reading, reblogs/feedback are appreciated as always! I have a decent idea of where I want to take this, and barring anything unexpected it should wrap up in one or two more chapters.

[acupofmatt-blog1]

Take a look at my girlfriend,  she's the only one I got → Solane

Tagging→ @acupofmatt @reaglane

Location→ Reagan’s apartment

Date→ March 24, 2019

Summary→ After coming home from her trip to Acapulco, Matt decides she’s ready for another adventure. The romance kind. 

REAGAN

Reagan could easily be defined as independent. So much, that it sometimes made getting into relationship a little harder for her, and same with having roommates in general. Her alone time was important to her, recharging after a long day was a must, and spending constant time with someone you loved more than anything even needed a break every now and again. But this past week when Matt was gone? Reagan was getting a little tired of having her...whatever they were, almost 3,000 miles away. She'd googled it. Sure, it might've just been because the constant pictures Matt was sending her and putting on the internet were dangerous to Reagan's work presence, or just because Matt was being sweet like, 24/7 these days and her therapy sessions were really seeming to be working, but instead it was all of those things, paired with the simple fact that Reagan just really, really liked her. And missed her. A lot. Even the parts that made her roll her eyes. By the time Sunday rolled around, she was more than a little restless; especially because she had the whole entire day to wait. She'd gone into her shop to clean and do some busy work even though it was closed, finished her afternoon up with a run in the park (it was finally spring, after all), and finally ended up back at her apartment cleaning her already clean apartment for a little while. She knew that Matt and Harper's plane got in kind of late, and by the time their Uber got to the front of Reagan's apartment building, it would be a little later. Was she getting tired? Maybe. But somehow, she had a feeling she'd be a little more woken up as soon as her tired and probably hungover Matt was safe and sound in her apartment.

By the time Matt texted her to let her know she was on her way as she thankfully asked her to do, Reagan quickly jumped off her couch, making a quick stop to the nearest mirror she could find to fluff out her freshly chopped hair and brush it with her fingers a few times before dashing back into the living room when she heard the knock. An immediate smile on her face as soon as she realized that Matt was only a few inches of wood away. It felt way too good, and full of relief, which maybe just confirmed the fact that Reagan really did like her. Which god, she really, really did. She waited a few seconds to make it look like she wasn't awkwardly waiting around with nothing better to do, before she swung the door open.

MATT

Matt had needed the getaway with Harper. Given all the drama that had gone down these past few weeks, Matt needed to get away from all the messiness. It wasn’t running away anymore. It was recharging. Because Matt was changing in good ways even if no one really saw it. It didn’t matter because all that mattered is that Reagan was seeing Matt changing. It was Reagan that suggested therapy and Matt hated to admit that it was working. Matt could be hard headed with her therapist, but he always managed to get through to her and her humor. And, God, Matt was SO into Reagan. Matt liked Reagan so much. Matt would never tread the realm of love, but maybe it was getting there. A little close to that realm for Matt’s liking, but she was trying not to be afraid with it. Despite having been in absolute paradise all week, Matt missed Reagan terribly. She just wanted to kiss Reagan’s cute face and cuddle with her and for Reagan to make those ugly Ninja Turtle pancakes she promised. All of the good stuff. It was always good stuff with Reagan. Matt was always comfortable enough to be the biggest nerd and a total dork around Reagan. It was different. A good different.

Once her and Harper made it back to New York, they took an Uber to drop Harper off first and then Matt to her apartment to drop off her luggage, get Reagan’s flowers from Reggie, and grab Reagan’s gift Matt got her from Acapulco. She didn’t even spend five minutes at her place before rushing to Reagan’s. She was a little jetlagged and hungover, but that didn’t stop Matt from going to Reagan’s and doing what she’s been thinking about the whole week: making things official. Matt liked Reagan a lot. It was undoubtable. Despite things still being weird with Lara, it didn’t erase the fact that more than anything, Matt just wanted Lara and her in good terms. No relationship or anything, but just good terms. Her mind was set on Reagan. Matt let out a deep breath as she made it to Reagan’s apartment and knocked, waiting with a big smile on her face that only grew more when she saw Reagan on the other side with her new haircut. “What’s up, bro?” Matt greeted with a teasing grin before leaning down and kissing Reagan’s lips. “Hi, baby.” Matt mumbled as she kissed Reagan’s cheek and hummed. “I missed you and your stupid cute face.” Matt pulled away and showed Reagan the bouquet arrangement done by Reggie with white jasmines, daffodils, and dark red carnations. “I had Reggie do this for you. Paid for it, of course.” Matt told her. “I think you can decipher the meanings there.” Matt bit her lip.

REAGAN

"Hi back," Reagan murmured, anything else she was going to say promptly cut off when Matt kissed her. Her hands moved to Matt's sides, giving them a tiny squeeze. Hearing such sweet names was still a fairly new occurrence between them, even if Matt had for sure pulled out the stops via text. But hearing it in person? Well, it was a lot. But it was a lot in the best way possible and it only made Reagan grin to herself even more. "This bro definitely hasn't been anxiously waiting in her apartment for some time now, that's for sure." She teased with a small smile, using one hand to run through her hair. Not even a nervous habit-- just trying to get used to how short it suddenly was. "Get your butt inside. If I remember correctly you definitely want to do some things that aren't exactly PG related and there's a 8 year old kid down the hall." She rolled her eyes, mostly at herself, and held the door open for Matt to actually come inside; she really didn't want to do their entire reunion with her nosy neighbors hearing everything, and shut it once they were both inside, her eyes traveling to the flowers. "So that's why Reggie wanted me to pick up lunch." Reagan smirked with a small smile, grabbing the flowers and glancing down at them. She knew Matt was one of those people that like herself, actually paid attention to flower meanings. Now, at least.

"Let's see here." She murmured as she looked it up and down. "It's beautiful, by the way. She's getting really good at this!" Reagan smiled. "White jasmine, red carnations, daffodil..." She trailed off. "Love and romance, love and affection, and daffodils are like, the flower that represents spring. Which I love. Thank you! That's really sweet of you.” She beamed, then, moving over to wrap arms around Matt’s waist in a small embrace. It felt way too nice to let go. “I love them.” She said quietly, standing up a little taller to give Matt a soft kiss on her cheek before walking off in the direction of her kitchen to find a vase and some water to put them in. She motioned for Matt to follow. "How was your flight?" She asked genuinely. "You're probably exhausted. And hungover. You can take a shower if you want. I'll even jump in with you." She smiled softly again as she put the flowers in the vase.

MATT

Matt hummed with an amused grin at Reagan’s confession. “Is that so?” Matt kissed Reagan’s cheek again. “All right, all right, Jesus, not even a minute here and you’re already horny for me.” Matt teased as she stepped inside and looked around the apartment. It had been an entire week since she was last here and Matt missed it quite a bit. It was always comfortable to be at Reagan’s place. Matt’s grin grew as Reagan took the flowers and Matt nodded dumbly as she kissed Reagan back and then watched Reagan easily define the meaning behind every flower. Minus the daffodil. Reagan needed a little more help with that one. Because the daffodil meant more than spring. It meant new beginnings and Matt was hoping they can have a new beginning today. As officially girlfriends. As officially, completely Reagan’s. Matt hugged Reagan back and hummed. “You know daffodils mean new beginnings too.” Matt commented as she followed Reagan to put the flowers in a vase. “It was all right. Harper and I were mostly napping and then watching true crime docs because Harper lives for it and the appeal is getting to me.”

Matt answered before raising an eyebrow at the suggestion of a shower. “That sounds perfect, actually.” Matt smiled. “With or without funny business, though?” Matt smirked as she tilted her head. “Because I’d be down for either option.” Matt shrugged. “I also got you a little bracelet made out of seashells. For you. Just something small and dumb.” Matt said softly as she showed Reagan the bracelet. “I know I could’ve done better in getting my…um…my girlfriend something. But…you know.” Matt chewed on her lip as she said the words aloud. “You—you know, if she actually wants to be my…my girlfriend.” Matt stammered. “She doesn’t have to be—well you don’t have to be. I don’t know why I was talking about you in the third person.” Matt chuckled nervously. She kinda expected to say that with a little more grace and maybe actually ask the question first instead of a statement. Just a thought.

REAGAN

"You didn't exactly make things easy for me. Totally can't be blamed for the way I'm feeling." Reagan defended with a smile. "I haven't had sex in a week. Which, god, is actually pretty hilarious because I've gone a whole lot longer before. You and your impact." She grinned. "Yeah, I do know that." She nodded. Maybe she should've picked on it then, but she'd given Matt daffodils in that cheesy bouquet she made her the day after Valentine's Day when they made up. And she wasn't asking her anything too serious at the time. Sure, from that moment on they'd been fairly good for the most part, but nothing really changed. They'd been like this, how they were now, for quite a while. "Plane rides can be pretty fun. If you're in first class, I mean. I usually just stuck to regular old business class, though." She shrugged.

"With, of course." Reagan smiled. "Definitely with. Besides, I could use an actual shower too. Oh my gosh, you haven't even seen how my shower works. It's also very nice. Not like my bed level of nice, But I put in one of those rain shower heads. It's perfect." She mused. She couldn't remember a time she was so open with her sexual needs for anyone, even Matt, because it was still a learning curve at times, and Matt was usually the one to go down that route. But it felt really nice to be open about what she wanted to do. And maybe absence just did make the heart grow fonder. Once she made sure the water in her vase wasn't too cold, she began filling it up. "Small and dumb, huh?" She smirked, shaking her head. "It's so cute. You're cute. It's gonna go really well with my suits and blazers, and my jean jackets and t-shirts. Look at you giving me all this jewelry." She mentioned, her fingers touching the necklace she still wore around her neck. She set the vase on the counter and grabbed a paper towel to wipe down the mess, her actions stopping when Matt finished her sentence. Her heart felt like it stopped beating, and everything kind of froze, and Matt was just casually saying things about a girlfriend, and by the split second it took her mind to realize what Matt was asking, (pretty nervously for that matter) she could feel herself nodding. "I'd love to be your girlfriend.” She nodded calmly to herself, a smile breaking out in her lips. "She really wants to be your girlfriend. Don't worry." Reagan beamed again, her eyes traveling to Matt's. She was so nervous, and it made Reagan want to do a lot of things to make her not nervous, but mostly, she was just glad that this was going a lot more smoothly than it was in Chicago. Even if she couldn't help but find Matt's nervous absolutely endearing and adorable. She hardly ever saw her nervous and stuttery. That was Reagan's job. "You're ready? Finally? Because I feel like I've been waiting what feels like years."

MATT

Matt smirked. "I'm happy I contributed to that increased sex drive." Matt teased. "I'll make sure to put it to good use, I promise." Matt nodded slowly as Reagan agreed with the daffodil meaning, but it still didn't click. "Yeah, I've never flown first class so I just sit with the regular people which really damages my ego because I know I'm better than all of them." Matt joked. "Even the crying babies." That soft smile that Matt reserved for Reagan quickly made its way back to her face as Reagan ranted about her damn shower head. How lamer could you get? Matt would usually roll her eyes at any of this, but it honestly made her heart flutter even more. That was her Reagan. Talking about home appliances like they're some type of godsend. And Matt loved it. "I hope you keep rambling like this while we shower, it's a big turn-on for me." Matt teased as she kissed Reagan's cheek. "I like it when you talk home appliances to me. It's like IKEA personified." Matt chuckled. Matt blushed as Reagan thanked her for the seashell bracelet and even pointed back to the carnation necklace Matt had gotten for her birthday. It made Matt really happy that Reagan was wearing it. Matt blushed even more when Reagan caught on to what Matt was asking and grinned when Reagan said she wanted to be her girlfriend and quickly nodded when Reagan asked if she was ready. "I'm more than ready. I want this more than anything. I...just want you. And only you." Matt told her. After talking with Lara, Matt felt more confident on her feelings for Reagan. Sure, she'd always love Lara, but it wasn't a present feeling anymore. "I pick you, remember?" Matt smiled softly as she reached out and grabbed Reagan's hand. "I want this. I want us. I'm all in, I promise." Matt assured. "I want this for as long as you'll have me, if I'm being honest."

REAGAN

Reagan really wanted to go back and talk about how she could very easily give Matt a pros and cons list of her shower head while they were in it, and she really wanted to revel in the fact that Matt apparently didn't mind at all when she blabbed about furniture-- that was also important. But she could really only focus on what Matt was asking, and what Matt was saying, and what was about to happen, and how it was finally happening. It did make her a little nervous, of course. She hadn't been asked to be anyone's girlfriend in quite a few years. And getting into a relationship could bring about a lot of fears and problems. But at the same time? They kind of already had theirs. Honestly, they were practically already in a relationship. It just wasn't official. Which would probably make everything very easy. More natural.

"It would be okay if you weren't. I'd wait. Not that I'm not thrilled you are, of course. I'm really thrilled. I just wouldn't want to pressure you into anything, you know?" She explained, nodding quickly to make sure her point made sense. Matt grabbing her hand was a good distraction from her thoughts, and also, just really sincere. "But I believe you." She explained, her eyes moving from Matt to their hands, back to Matt. "I haven't felt so wanted in my entire life, actually." She shrugged softly. "And to be honest, it kind of feels like you're already my girlfriend. We've got everything but the label." She grinned, taking a sure step closer to Matt. She really did trust her. She believed her. Sure, there were a few things that still worried her, like how they wanted different things in the long run, it seemed, and Matt and Lara and that entire situation, but it had all gotten better than when it all started. And that only meant room for improvement. "I want you, too. It's weird. No one's ever actually gotten me to consider buying a cartoon shaped waffle maker, or jump in a car and go to Chicago, or actually think going a week without having sex feels like forever. You've definitely got some sort of hold on me." She admitted, giving Matt's hand a squeeze before moving her thumb over the back of Matt's. She paused for a moment, taking it all in. "I'll definitely have you for as long as you'll also, have me. I adore you, remember?" She smiled softly. "A lot."

MATT

”But I believe you.” rang through Matt’s ears. It made her weirdly emotional to hear it. Reagan believed her. Trusted her. Wanted her. Matt never had all three things at once with a person, and it honestly terrified her. It excited her, too. If she made it this far with a person, what else was there to come? Good things, Matt hoped. “I’ve never felt so wanted, either. And...cared for. You care. A lot. Even before we figured feelings out. You wanted me to be better for me, not you. You wanted me to be a better Matt because you knew there was more to me than I let out. It’s been a while since someone’s seen more to me than that. I never opened up to someone so easily like I have with you. And easily adjusted to another person’s interests. I never cared much for plants and flowers until you. Or silk pajamas.” Matt chuckled. “I am absolute putty in your hands, Reagan. I like you more than I expected to. It’s a lot.” Matt leaned down to kiss Reagan, smiling when Reagan said those three words that meant so much to her. “Say it again. Say you adore me.” Matt looked at Reagan with a soft look in her eye. “I love it when you say that.” Matt mumbled as she kissed Reagan again. Matt believed in her and Reagan. She was hopeful—something Matt usually wasn’t too keen on being. “Since you’re my girlfriend now, does that mean I have to stop calling you ‘bro’ or can I still do that ironically?” Matt asked. “Because, not gonna like bro...I really like calling you that. Don’t worry, though. I’ll still call you my flower girl. And my baby.” Matt smiled as she pecked Reagan’s lips. “Mmm, especially the last one.”

REAGAN

"It's my lifelong mission to make people care about plants and flowers. You just made it incredibly easy. And the silk pajamas? An excellent addition." She mused. If there was one thing Reagan knew, it was that being supportive of people and accepting where they came from and what they've been through, just...caring a little too much in general even, usually resulted in amazing things. Sure, it had never resulted in an entire relationship before, but she was so glad it did. It was still a little surreal at times that someone like Matt, who could quite possibly get anyone she wanted just based on the way she looked, chose someone like Reagan. And obviously, Reagan was pretty glad that on the other end, they also liked each other for more than the way they looked. Matt was like, the closest thing to a sex goddess Reagan ever knew. But that was really just an added touch to the rest of her, which Reagan had more than enough fun learning about and getting to know. As Matt mentioned those words, and how much she loved hearing them, practically begging against her lips, Reagan almost lost it, and that familiar need she'd been experiencing all week returned. Matt was making her want things she'd never knew she'd want before. It was an even bigger reason to comply, but of course, she'd say it anyways.

"I adore you." She repeated, a nod escaping her as she pressed her own lips to Matt's. "Call me whatever you want." She smiled when she pulled back, her arms wrapping around Matt's waist again, needing that physical contact she hadn't gotten all week. Reagan had never been the type to be so mushy, or cheesy, or anything like that. Matt on the other hand, was surprisingly all for it. If she was being honest, pet names were never really her thing, even the most basic. But these? It warmed her heart in way too many ways. Flower girl was a given, of course. She'd heard that one a million times. The day that Matt just randomly started saying it though, it didn't seem annoying anymore. The other one? She could listen to Matt say that to her forever. "So," Reagan murmured, her hands still around Matt's waist moving in circles behind her. "What's the first thing on the agenda with the official relationship between Reagan Lane and Matt Solís?" She grinned.

MATT

Matt scrunched up her nose. "It doesn't help I'm a big, fat loser when it comes to you and your plants. And especially a loser completely heart eyes over those sexy pajamas, ugh." Matt chuckled. It honestly terrified Matt how there wasn't a single thing Reagan could ask of her that she wouldn't do for her. Okay, well, there was a few things. Matt would not give up Ninja Turtles or Mario Kart for ANYTHING. But she knew Reagan didn't mind (or at least, Matt hoped she didn't) how incredibly nerdy and dorky Matt could get. Reagan accepted a lot of things about Matt that Matt didn't know how Reagan accepted it. Matt's smile grew at the words, kissing the top of Reagan's head when Reagan wrapped her arms around Matt's waist. "My girlfriend." Matt blurted out. "I'll call you that too. Any day--fuck, every day honestly." It came no shock to Matt how absolutely cheesy and mushy she'd get when it came to people she had feelings for. Matt was a whipped little goober who had nothing but adoration for the person she was into. And Reagan? Well, Matt was absolutely nuts for her. She just wanted to wrap her arms around Reagan under the comfort of a stupid little fort and kissing her and telling Reagan how beautiful she was. Matt tilted her head at the question and smiled. "Well, I think we had plans of a shower Ms. Reagan Lane. And maybe..." Matt trailed off as she leaned down to kiss Reagan's jaw gently, making her way to Reagan's earlobe and nibbling on it playfully. "Just maybe...we can watch the news." Matt whispered, feigning a seductive voice as she said it before bursting into laughter. "Kidding, I'm kidding. We can have sex and cuddle." Matt kissed Reagan's cheek. "Anything you want, baby."

REAGAN

“That’s because pajamas and plants are the best things ever.” She smiled, she of course, knew she got lucky to find someone who wasn’t bothered by the things she did. Mutually. And even more, accepted and adored them. “I could take a shower.” She mumbled, letting out a breathy sigh as Matt kissed her again. Not on her lips this time. “You know, I forgot to tell you...that it has an anti-slip floor, which I think will come in handy…” she trailed off, her hands sliding up Matt’s shirt just to rest there. The same abs she was openly teased by the entire week. “I think I can catch up on the news in the morning.” She murmured, stepping back and grabbing Matt’s hand with her own. “Shower first.” She gently smirked. Leading her across the living room and down to her bathroom, which of course, was squeaky clean. It was a little different, as Matt was more often than not, the initiator. And even now, it was set up to happen, but Reagan just, really, really didn’t want to wait. And something told her Matt didn’t either. How could she blame herself, though? She’d been teased to the brink all week. With pictures on social media, and pictures send just to her, and all kinds of texts that made Reagan blush a little too hard at her desk at work. Matt’s looks weren’t the selling point for Reagan. But when she looked like that? And now it was all hers? She wouldn’t waste a second.

MATT

Matt giggled as she followed Reagan (not like she could stop, Reagan was literally pulling her). “Missing the news for sex? Reagan, I’m becoming a bad influence on you.” Matt clicked her tongue. “This is your chance, babe, break up with me while you can.” Matt continued to joke, kissing Reagan a little more deeply once they made it to the bathroom. “I really wanna try out that anti slip floor.” Matt mumbled against Reagan’s lips. “I’m suddenly really interested in that home appliance.” Matt chuckled as she kissed down to Reagan’s neck. Matt was surprised how horny Reagan was at the moment. Reagan didn’t mind sex at all, but now it looked like Reagan was hungry for it and Matt was pretty into it. After testing out the anti-slip floor a few times (maybe longer than necessary), Matt ran a hand through her wet hair before looking over at Reagan with a soft smile. “C’mere.” Matt mumbled as she pulled Reagan towards her and kissed her lips gently. “So did you finally get that sexual frustration out of your system, or are you still holding out for more?” Matt teased.

REAGAN

Thankfully, (mostly to the anti-slip shower floor) Reagan was still upright and in one piece by the time they'd finished. She let out a sigh as she felt Matt's lips on her again, looping her arms around Matt's waist as she did so, letting her head fall back under the stream of water for a moment when they broke apart. "I think I'm satisfied. Are you? For this moment, at least." She smiled, reaching her arm back to turn the faucet to a much warmer temperature again. They'd been in there so long it wasn't too far from cold, and after a while, the water temperature was the last thing on their minds. Plus, living in an apartment didn't really ensure the best constant water temperature, anyways. "God, though. It was a lot of sexual frustration to get out." She murmured, her eyes traveling from Matt's face, to well, lower. And then even lower. "Okay, we really need to get you out of here and covered up before I demand we spend the rest of the night here and I fall asleep in front of my tulips tomorrow. and you into a steaming hot espresso." She shook her head-- and since they were clean, and (mostly) satisfied, Reagan turned off the water and drew the curtain back, a shiver escaping her in the process. "There's way too many fluffy towels in that closet over there." She said, grabbing her robe off a hook next to the shower, and pointing to the closet by the door. She moved a towel over her own hair, not that it was shorter, a much easier process, although pretty desperate to be brushed.

MATT

“At least?” Matt retorted with a smirk. “Who are you? Is this still Reagan I’m talking to?” Matt chuckled. “I’m creating a monster. A big, horny monster.” Matt teased as she raised an eyebrow at Reagan’s eyes traveling down her body and Matt’s smug look grew even more. Matt had always been well aware of how hot she was and how bang-able her body was. Sometimes it made her come off as vain and superficial, but there was nothing wrong with being confident in knowing you’re hot as fuck. It was nice being reminded, though. Especially if it was by someone Matt was with. She knew Reagan liked her for more than her body and hadn’t run for the hills quite yet despite seeing Matt at her lowest, at times. It was nice. It was comforting. It was reassuring. Matt stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself and chuckled. “Of course you have a fluffy robe you wear.” Matt teased as she kissed Reagans cheek. “It’s cute, though. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s hypoallergenic and has a cooling system and a Bluetooth, you weirdo.” Matt teased as she kissed Reagan again. “Do you think I can borrow an old t shirt or something? I might have to start bringing some of my cool t shirts here so I don’t get caught wearing a t shirt from one of your florist conventions.” Matt joked with a laugh as she walked out of the bathroom.

REAGAN

"I have no idea what you're doing to me, but I'm also not the most mad at it." She admitted, her cheeks tinted pink. "I think It's nearly impossible for anyone to not get like this after having you tease them for an entire 7 days." She shook her head. "You're just really beautiful. It's kinda weird now how that body's all mine now, you know?" She shrugged her shoulders, a small smile on her face. It was still a lot to believe. It still felt like it had been for a while though, because they'd definitely done a lot of things like this before without the label they now had. "There's nothing wrong with a good, expensive robe, you know. Although unfortunately, this one's pretty basic. I almost bought a heated one, but that didn't seem very safe." Once Matt was all covered up and heading out of the room, Reagan followed her, shutting off the lights. "Wear whatever you want." She smiled, walking over to her dresser and running a brush through her hair in the mirror. "My closet's your closet. Except for the expensive dresses in there and the things that won't fit you." Which might just be a lot given their height difference. She quietly changed into her pajamas, old sweatpants and the first T-shirt she could find, and after hanging up her robe back in the bathroom, turned back around. It was all very exciting, really. Because while it had been years since Reagan had a solid relationship, it was usually the little things that excited her. Like clothes in each other’s closets.

MATT

"And the rest of me too, you know." Matt teased before kissing Reagan's cheek again. "I'm just teasing. But I'm pretty happy that all of you is mine too. I'm really, really lucky. I won big time." Matt smiled as she changed into a random t shirt and smiled at the thought of some of these clothes eventually making their way to her room and her clothes to Reagan's. Something so small felt so meaningful, and it was all so domestic. Matt never thought that she'd get to experience some of these domestically sweet things. But here she was doing them since the very beginning, really. Once Matt was all changed, Matt walked over to Reagan and wrapped her arms behind Reagan as she brushed her hair. "I can't believe you're my girlfriend now. You get to sit in the girlfriend section at the Showers soccer game now. Oh and you can definitely cut in line at ACup. Total girlfriend privileges. AND you get exclusive drawings from me. And exclusive latte art. Honestly, you're reaping so many benefits. You can't get rid of me now." Matt joked as she kissed Reagan's neck gently. Not to initiate anything, really. Matt just wanted to feel Reagan close to her. And kiss her as much as she can.

REAGAN

“All of the rest of you, too.” She nodded. “That stupidly sexy body of yours is just an added benefit.” She mused, shrugging a little bit. She really never wanted it to seem like Reagan only liked Matt for her body. That wasn’t true at all, and probably, had happened to Matt before. “I guess I have to start getting out of bed early on weekends, huh?” She teased, setting her brush down on her dresser and turning around in Matt’s arms. “I’d hate to cut in line, though.” She admitted, her hands traveling to Matt’s shoulders to run down her arms. “I wanna be a good girl. Wait in line everyone else who isn’t Matt Solis’ girlfriend.” Reagan just didn’t like breaking the rules. Ever. “With everyone else who doesn’t get exclusive drawings and latte art.” She chuckled. “Finally getting up to the front of the line to a carefully crafted and personalized latte? That’ll show ‘em.” She smiled, “But really. I’m pretty curious to see what else you can put on a latte. And what else those hands of yours can do with a pencil.” She grabbed Matt’s hand, once again, and guided her to her bed. “Since you missed it so much.” She teased, sliding in herself. “As far as benefits go, besides the nice bed and shower and ninja turtle waffle maker,” She smirked. “I can for sure offer you flowers.” Which honestly? Reagan would do with ease. She liked to do it, to take the way someone was feeling and make them feel better through flowers. Or to just, give flowers to people she loved. Flowers with meaning that made it so much more than getting a plant.

MATT

“Mhmm, very stupid. A total moron body.” Matt agreed with a nod and giggled. “Just on Sundays. You get to see me all sweaty and hot and wiping off that sweat with my shit so you get a great look at my abs....” Matt trailed off with a smirk. “So you definitely have lots to look forward to.” Matt told her. Matt smiled when Reagan turned around and hummed. “Fine, you can follow the rules. But I’ll definitely make sure you get the most special. Little flower art in your coffee and everything.” Matt said. “And also a kiss because no one but Matt Solís’ girlfriend gets kisses.” Matt told her as she kissed Reagan’s lips gently. “That’s another privilege.” Matt smiled. “I can put almost anything, honestly. I’ve got five years of being a barista as practice. It’s great. I like it. I get to do art and stuff. Plus, I don’t know where I’d be if April hadn’t offered me a job. So it’s really special to me. Even if it can be a shit show, sometimes.” Matt chuckled as she followed Reagan to her bed. “I honestly think the ninja turtle waffle maker is the only reason I was ready for a relationship with you.” Matt joked. “I knew you were it for me from there.” Matt hummed. “And flowers seem like the best thing in the world. Especially from you. I want all the flowers to come from you.” Matt smiled. “Plus, another benefit is waking up next to you. Even if you’re a grump in the mornings.” Matt chuckled.

REAGAN

“Too much sweat talk,” Reagan mused, scrunching up her nose. “But I do like watching you play. Even if you haven’t scored a goal yet.” She teased, sliding over next to Matt, turning on her side to face her, one arm lazily sliding over her waist. She wasn’t sure if PDA was all that professional, but she wouldn’t deny that chance. As long as it was allowed. Reagan didn’t know what Matt’s life plans were. She made a mental note to ask her. But not now. Did that even matter? She didn’t know. Her ex-girlfriends had plans. Long plans. And Reagan had plans. But Matt? Matt didn’t. Right? But Matt made her so happy. And that could be enough. “I’m just glad you love your job. Not a lot of people can say the same.” At the mention of flowers, Reagan smiled gently. “Oh, I can think of all the flowers I’m gonna get you. Roses, peonies, asters and tulips... and red carnations, of course.” She grinned. “Definitely red carnations.”

MATT

Matt pouted. “I get distracted really easily.” Matt told her. “Don’t judge me. I’ll score a goal one day! You’ll see. Most of the time I have a really nice manicure I don’t want to ruin.” Matt shrugged before smiling as Reagan cuddled up to her and Matt hummed. “I missed this. Harper’s not a good cuddler like you.” Matt kissed Reagan’s forehead. Matt nodded. “I do love it. And even though most baristas at ACup see their barista job as something temporary, I don’t. I could see myself working there forever, honestly.” Matt shrugged. “I like what I do and I do it really well.” Matt shared. Matt smiled as Reagan mentioned all the flowers she planned on getting Matt. Flowers were never a big deal to Matt until she met Reagan. Suddenly her world became involved with flowers and Matt didn’t mind it at all. She loved the fact that Reagan was so passionate. And the fact that Reagan liked her enough to think of buying flowers for her. “That’s sweet. You’re sweet.” Matt kissed Reagan’s cheek. “I like you. I’m gonna keep you, c’mere.” Matt wrapped her arms around Reagan.

REAGAN

“You know only the goalies are allowed to use their hands, right? I think your manicure will be safe.” She chuckled, her hand traveling to Matt’s to look at her manicure. Reagan wasn’t really one for that sort of thing, not when she used her hands so much. “You do get distracted quite easily. I’ll go but just hide behind a pole or something so you focus on the game.” At the kids to her forehead, Reagan let her eyes fall closed for a moment, before opening them and nodding in response. “I know I’ll be at my store forever. They’ll probably have to rip me me away so I can retire and not work myself to death.” She mused. “There’s definitely enough benefits of ACup, though. I’d stick around for as long as you can.” She closed the gap between them even further, letting Matt’s arms circle her with a smile. “Please feel free to keep me. I could probably find a sensible 34-year-old single mom, but something tells me my life wouldn’t be nearly as exciting.” With a tiny smirk, she moved her head to rest on Matt’s shoulder.

MATT

“I just can’t risk it, babe.” Matt sighed dramatically. “Besides, I don’t really get the chance to do many manicures when I’m at ACup. That espresso machine is a little bitch.” Matt chuckled as she smiled softly at Reagan. “Yeah, but it’s not my fault that you’re really cute wearing my jersey.” Matt kissed Reagan’s cheek. “Fiona makes fun of me for it, but don’t worry. I’ll score a goal soon and make sure to dedicate it to you.” Matt told her. “I’m mostly there to show diversity. In a sea of vanilla ice cream, I’m a caramel sundae.” Matt smirked before giggling. “Especially with this tan I got going on.” Matt smirked even more. “Pretty great, huh?” Matt nodded. “You little workaholic.” Matt chuckled. “You even surpassed me. And I’m always working, too. I’m like the best ACup barista, so I gotta be there for the looks and the talent.” Matt shrugged as she smiled as Reagan leaned closer and Matt rubbed Reagan’s back slowly. “I’ll keep you for a long time. Try not to get sick of me.” Matt half-joked. Matt knew relationships never really lasted long with her. People assumed it was Matt who broke things off, but it was honestly always Matt who got dumped. She hoped it wouldn’t be the case with Reagan, but if it was, Matt would just enjoy however long she’d have with Regan. “Although if you ever left me for a hot MILF, I wouldn’t be upset. Not if I can get involved in a post-breakup threesome.” Matt smirked.

REAGAN

"Dedicate your first goal to yourself. A lot of hard work's gotta go into that if it happens." She grinned. The idea of wearing your girlfriend's jersey at the age of 31 at a soccer game never really went through her mind before this. But if it made Matt happy? Sure, she'd do it. She'd compromise. She looked good in pink. She let out a yawn then, not too tired; just cozy, and raised an eyebrow when Matt spoke again. "You're so stupid." She laughed, turning it to lean against Matt's shoulder. "But yeah, It's pretty great. It suits you. All I need is to be with someone who brings out my paleness. And my shortness." She rolled her eyes playfully. Opposites really did attract between them, that much was obvious. In all kinds of ways. Reagan really had a feeling it would even things out though. Compliment who they already were in some really good ways. Reagan needed to let things happen as they came, Matt probably needed some structure which Reagan could definitely provide. "I can't say I go into ACup enough to gauge the best barista..." She teased, trailing off. "But you're definitely the cutest. And I know you put a lot of work in. Maybe I'm just a little biased, though." She reached her arm over and moved the covers around them. "I definitely need to start going to ACup more, though. I can definitely skip using my fancy coffee maker here if you're the one giving it to me," She mused. It felt warm and safe to be laying there with Matt. Which was something people didn't really equate with her in general. "Try not to get sick of me." She said back. "But please. I think I'm getting closer to figuring you out. An onion, remember?"

MATT

Matt grinned when she heard Reagan laugh. Matt prided herself in being able to make people laugh, but when it was her girlfriend (wow, Matt still couldn't believe that was the title she had now)? It only made Matt prouder. "I like hearing you laugh." Matt mused. "I'm going to try to make you laugh all the time." Matt told her as she kissed Reagan's head. "You know, I really wouldn't mind some flirting going on at ACup. Maybe some kissing. Making elaborate latte art for my flower girl of a girlfriend is no easy feat. It deserves rewarding." Matt smiled when Reagan called her "cute." Matt didn't ever consider herself "cute," but she believed it when Reagan said it. Matt had never been such a big softie for anyone. Well, not this early in a relationship, anyway. Things were different this time around, though. Things with Reagan were different. A good different. Sure, there were several differences between her and Reagan, but Matt truly believed her and Reagan could really do it. It wouldn't be just another failed relationship. "I could never get sick of you." Matt mumbled. "You're my favorite person in the world. Even beating Rihanna." Matt chuckled at the onion reference. "Yeah, an onion." Matt shook her head. "Somewhere under this, there's a Shrek joke I could make, but I'm entirely too comfortable right now." Matt hummed as she rubbed Reagan's back before closing her eyes with a content sigh. "I'm really happy, you know. The happiest. And that's because of you." Matt smiled, opening one eye to look at Reagan. "Thank you for saying yes, I'll make sure you never regret saying it. I promise."

[alittletournesol]

Get On {JongKey}

A long and repetitive vibration on the mattress slowly wakes Jonghyun up, the young man frowning as he blindly catches his phone. Opening one eye, he checks the screen and sighs before he picks up ; on the line, his best friend is angrily whispering things which don’t sound like words to his still sleepy ears. He grunts and mumbles a “call later”, then he hangs up and puts the device away, eventually turning on his left side.

What he doesn’t expect is for his phone to vibrate once again, this time with a sharp, brief rhythm, which signales several texts coming at once. Jonghyun grumbles even more as he turns over and straightens on his forearm, grabbing the annoying object once again to check who’s preventing him to sleep. He opens the messages app and immediately notices capitalized words coming from Minho. 

JONGHYUN HYUNG.

YOU’RE LATE.

WAKE UP AND RUN.

The young man frowns and sits up straight on his bed, rubbing his tired eyes before reading the texts again. Late ? He repeats the word several times in his mind until it hits him. Late. For his classes. Jonghyun swears out loud and types texts Minho that he’s on his way, before he leaves his bed and runs to his bathroom. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. His teacher is going to kill him, the student thinks as he hastily washes his face and puts some decent clothes on — actually the first ones that his hands find in his closet. It’s not the first time he’s running late for university because his sleep doesn’t play the game ; but he knows the excuse won’t last long, as honest as it is.

In no time, he’s outside his house and he runs as fast as he can, holding his backpack in his hand and apologizing to every pedestrian he almost runs into. It takes him less than ten minutes until he reaches his university, and he rushes to his lecture hall. He takes a minute to catch his breath before opening the double-wing door, and he deeply bows without even watching his teacher and the dozens of students who turn their heads towards him.

“Please accept my apologies, I—” he starts to say.

“Maybe you should sleep here, Kim.” The woman in her fifties harshly cuts him short. “This way, we would have the honor to see you on time. Take your seat.”

Jonghyun bows once again and keep his head lowered as his eyes search for a free seat. The one beside Minho is taken, so he quickly sits in the last row, far away from the board. He apologies to the student who was sitting alone before his arrival, making him move his things away. The late man is surprised to notice several items of a biker’s equipment, such as gloves and a helmet. 

He looks up as he finally sits down, and finds his neighbor smirking.

“She’s a bitch.” He whispers. “Don’t mind her.”

“I-I beg your pardon ?” Jonghyun asked, his eyebrows raising at the cuss word coming from such a pretty mouth, with heart shaped lips.

“Park. She’s been harsh with you. I never liked her to be honest, too pretentious.”

“Oh... well, I deserved it since I’m late. Again. Sorry I had to disturb you...”

“Don’t worry about it, it takes a bit more than that to bother me.”

The student smiles to him and pulls a sheet from his notebook before he discreetly passes it to Jonghyun. The latter looks at it for some seconds before understanding he’s being given what he has missed from the beginning of the lecture. He shyly blushes and bows his head as a thank, taking his own notebook and pen to rewrite the main points. He then pushes the sheet back towards its owner.

“Thank you...?” He said, letting the end of his sentence outstanding.

“Kibum, but you can call me Key.” His neighbor said, winking at him with confidence.

“O-Okay, Key. I’m Jonghyun.”

“It’s nice to meet you. So... do you live that far away for you’re often late ? No offense, simply curiosity.”

“No, not at all, I’m living above the music shop, you know ? Barely ten minutes from here if you run fast.”

“And you do, I presume.”

“Really fast.”

Key slightly laughs, and Jonghyun smiles at the sound. The student sitting next to him isn’t a new face, he’s pretty known on the campus since he distinguishes himself thanks to his particular style — all about leather jacket and boots, ripped jeans and nice necklaces, rings and ear piercings. But what catches people’s eye the most is, obviously, his motorbike.

He’s curiously the only student who comes to the university by motorbike, others mostly using a bicycle or the bus, when they don’t own a car. However, his outfits always match his transport and Jonghyun can’t help but find it extremely attractive... his complete opposite, though, he who likes to wear comfy sweaters or checked shirts on a plain top. 

And who uses his feet.

“You must like to run then.” Key states as he highlights some words on his notebook with a bright green color.

“Like to run ?” The other student repeats, dumbfounded.

“Yeah. Since you’re late, you must like to run from your house to university. No ?”

“Hum... it’s not... I mean...”

“Relax, Jonghyun-ssi, I was kidding. Trying to break the ice, this class is boring as fuck.”

“Yeah, it is. I wonder why I even bother running for it. Actually I just have sleeping issues and I often miss my alarm clock.”

“So we got an heavy sleeper here. And you like music ?”

Saying this, Key shows Jonghyun’s open backpack on the table, which let his headset peep. The student nods and without really noticing, he starts talking with more ease by the minutes passing, his neighbor willingly answering and holding a long conversation about everything and nothing, from their respective hobbies to some giggles after their teacher calls them out a few times.

This comfortable moment recurs often, as both students share more classes than they expected... and as Jonghyun keeps coming late and only find a free seat next to Key, who always puts his biker’s equipment away with a wink, or a smile. They share their notes with each other, then their snacks, eventually their lives through anecdotes and confessions — like Jonghyun talking about his five years old brother, Taemin, or Key about his hometown.

Weeks flow by and their almost daily meetings are interrupted by school vacations, a short week that feels like three to Jonghyun who’s alone at home while Key’s abroad, spending time with a guy named Jinki or something like that. Even his video gaming afternoons at Minho’s place or helping Taemin with his homework and coloring books don’t satisfy him enough. Something’s missing, and time goes heavily slowly.

At least he can sleep without being scared to be late...

One day, Jonghyun is woken up by a small body climbing on his back, and he slightly laughs before he turns over to catch his brother for a tickling party. Taemin screams and wriggles, and the student smiles, kissing his rounded cheeks. It’s at that moment he notices the little boy is wearing his school uniform. Frowning, he catches his phone and chokes with his own saliva as he become aware of the day and the time : he’s late for his return to school.

Jonghyun’s routine begins again, with him running everywhere and doing his best to get properly ready in the shortest time. He catches his brother on his shoulder as he runs down the stairs, making him scream before he puts him on the floor. He then kisses his mother on the cheek and runs outside, only to abruptly stop in front of the small portal.

There, on the other side, a young man with black hair and wearing a leather jacket turns over to face him, and offers him a smile.

“Long time no see, Jjong.” He says before looking at his watch. “You’re improving, we have ten minutes until the class begins.”

Jonghyun stares at his friend, stunned, and Key can’t help but laugh out loud.

“You should see your face, it’s really funny.” He smiles. “I made some shopping in Japan, equipment is cheaper over there, a blessing. Here for you.”

Key grabs a grey slipcover by its string and hands it to Jonghyun, who takes it. It’s round, as hard as a stone and kinda heavy, what surprises him at first. He loosens a bit the string and unpacks his gift : a helmet, black with a white stripe. The student raises his eyebrows as he examines the object, and when he looks up to ask for an explanation, he finds his friend already straddling his bike with his own helmet on — the visor open — and turning the motor on.

“Get on.” He simply says, loud enough to be heard.

“Behind you ?” Jonghyun bluntly asks.

A simple stare from Key answers his questions and he blushes, putting the helmet on and adjusting it. He tidies the slipcover in his backpack, which he carefully put on his back, before he approaches the engine. After a short moment of hesitation, he firmly holds on to the biker’s arm and gets on ; he sits comfortably and watches Key turning his head towards him, his eyes smiling before he lowers his visor.

“Let’s go baby, hold on.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer and the bike starts moving forwards, surprising Jonghyun who gasps and immediately circles Key’s waist with his arms. He can’t see his friend smiling at the contact, when himself is blushing so hard under his helmet. Without really noticing it at first, he grabs hold of the biker’s top and is pressed against his back. 

Soon, the first ride’s worries vanish from Jonghyun’s mind and he finds himself relaxing against his friend’s body. He can’t really see nor hear anything because of the speed, the only thing he knows is that when Key pulls over in the motorbikes parking of the university, he feels disappointed by the brevity of the moment. When he eventually lets his friend’s top go, he unwillingly caresses his stomach and can feel Key’s abdominals tense.

Jonghyun blushes and clears his throat, checking on his left and his right to think about a way to come down. He manages to make his body slide on the bike, and when he has to make his short leg come down too, he stumbles and falls on his butt. Key laughs and gets off in his turn, putting the stand down and removing his helmet before he walks to help his friend to stand up. He dusts him a bit and helps him removing his helmet too.

The student’s blonde hair is a complete mess and Key laughs again, styling it with his hand under the dumbfounded stare of Jonghyun.

“See ? You’re on time.” The biker says before he crouches to tie his bike.

“Let’s do it again.” Jonghyun bluntly says, blushing when Key stands up and looks at him. “I mean... not now, but... some mornings ?”

The other student smiles and puts two fingers under Jonghyun’s chin.

“It’s planned, baby.”

Happy JongKey day. ♡

gifs made by me~

[lonedailydoodle]

Daily Doodle 252 – December 24, 2018

Oh hey.. My first ever car accident.. At least it was a parking lot accident

I’m super glad I handled it well but man.. I hope this won’t be a long hassle

 Today I got woken up before my alarm by grandma who was outside. I rushed outside but it apparently was something that didn’t involve me.. But I was already awake, so I got to doodling as fast as I could and then getting ready. I left after the time I wanted to leave, darn easy distractions.. Aaagh.. I just wanted to make sure other people didn’t run into the same issue I had the other day where I couldn’t find a song, so I made sure it had an entry in an easy to search way

Anyways, I refueled near home since fuel was as cheap as the usual gas station I go to, then left to Pixie’s. We then quickly left to a nearby Subway where I got a cheese broccoli soup <3 and Pixie got a sub

We then left home to eat but then left a while later to deposit some money I got as an early Christmas gift. The nearest ATM was just outside the mall nearby and it was already crowded because of people buying last minute stuff

After depositing, we left on our way to Pixie’s dad’s house to get Wilson. Pix’s dad had left the keys accessible, so we took the Miata and started driving home. I could tell Pix had a lot of fun driving Wilson again, especially in some tunnels, but he noted that people were kinda aggressive drivers today and almost hit him

Anyways, we left Wilson at home and went to take out some money for Pixie, then head to the usual Burger King to eat

This is when the day took a turn.. I was ready to leave back to Pixie’s house but someone was blocking my car so I couldn’t get out. They eventually moved away, so I slowly reversed out but then felt a hard hit on my car.. Someone actually hit my car, it’s the first time I’ve ever been in a car accident while being the driver and the accident involving my car..

I got out and the other driver had a little argument with me blaming me and Pixie noticed I looked really angry too, but I was contained and calm. I was expecting emotions to take over and someone to get angry at me even though it wasn’t my fault. We then got out of the way and parked again, calling relatives and then the police as usual. Pix and I noticed cameras nearby too which would help with evidence

The police obviously didn’t arrive after an hour or so of waiting, so we left to the police command building to report it there. The police officer did all the paperwork and illustrated what had happened. They then told me something that was a bit of a relief. While I may not have been at fault, we still get compensated 50/50 because of it being a parking lot crash.. But what she did was illegal cuz turns out she reversed to go onto a parking lot and you really can’t do that there just like that. So we’ll see what happens.. We traded info and the driver apologized for this, I let her know that at least it was a parking lot accident and nothing major

We both then left, I headed to Pixie’s place and I then just ate some pernil (Pork). I watched him play some Forza and then had to go to help dad with the pig at home. I kissed Pixie goodbye though we’d see each other tomorrow <3

I carefully drove home, feeling more cautious and careful than before but safely made it

I then left to grandma’s with mom to get a long rotating stick that we use to hold and cook the pig (Sorry pig furs). I was feeling some really bad stomach cramps and had to REALLY use grandma’s bathroom before leaving home again, making sure the stick wouldn’t fall off

Once home, I helped dad with lifting the pig at times and just watching him secure and season it. I also helped by sliding the stick in so it would be a proper spit roast for tomorrow. After all this, we stored the pig and cleaned up

After showering, I greeted my uncle and cousin who arrived today. I was supposed to go with my bro in the afternoon to pick them up but the whole crash thing happened

Anyways, we then watched a new Predator movie together, struggling at times with buffering, then they left. The movie was good and at times funny by the way!

I then finally settled down at my PC and was overwhelmed with the amount of messages I didn’t read today.. One of my friends was even concerned cuz of how quiet I was

I spent the time chatting before writing the doodle. Pix went to bed and I then got to drawing.. It turned into a struggle as my 3 hours of sleep were catching up to me, but I wanted to sleep without worries, so I finished up the doodle and then zzz

[lilyswritings]

Waitress

author’s note: So yeah, I’m in love with Frank Castle and this has been in my drafts for ACTUAL years. I kinda don’t care if this doesn’t get much love, as this was the first ever reader-insert piece I ever wrote, and I still love it. (Note: though I wrote this literally years ago, I have edited it thoroughly, bc my writing was TERRIBLE. So, yeah...)  Without further ado, please enjoy! (I know I did!)

summary: You’re a waitress at a small diner in Hell’s Kitchen - have been for a while now, as it is the only job you can seem to find. The same faces appear over and over, so when a new one catches your eye you take a particular interest in him and he in you - unbeknownst to you, a turn of events will solidify that interest entirely, changing your life forever.

word count: 2,438 (it’s a longer one!)

Frank Castle x Reader

   “Y/N, honey, you have to actually go out there at some point.” Your co-worker Jen says, her lips curling into a sympathetic smile. You groan, rubbing at your eyes and slipping on your white apron. You had been stupid enough to stay up most of last night reading, which meant you barely slept two hours before you had to come for your shift at the diner.

   "Yeah yeah.” You grumble, causing the blonde woman to chuckle and pass you your notepad and pen. 

   “Now go.” She orders, spinning you around by the arm and pushing you from the back, and you begrudgingly exit the small store room and enter the diner. It’s not very busy, the clock having barely reached 7 o’clock in the morning, but the booths are still taken by a few businessmen, and the counter stools are almost all filled by people itching to get their caffeine fix and be out of there in time to rush off somewhere else. 

   You sigh, grabbing the coffee pot, and do your usual rounds, refilling cups here and there, chatting to some of the regulars, but mostly milling behind the counter with your book, eyes darting from the page to the door to make sure you don’t ignore any customers.

   Finally, the clock reaches 10 o’clock, signalling the three hour mark. Jen waves to you as she leaves to get some rest, since she always takes the late night shift. The frequent coffee breaks have helped you wake up, but you still have two neverending hours to go before you get off for your lunch break. 

   The diner is mostly empty, only two or three tables filling up, meaning you have some free time before one of them calls your name or asks for the bill. You set the coffee to brew, picking up the tattered novel and flipping back over to your page, getting lost in the words. You don’t even hear another customer come in, sit at the bar or cough to get your attention.

   Finally, they clear their throat very loudly, causing you to jump slightly. You dart up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and hastily shove the book under the counter and turn to face him. 

   “What can I get for you?” You ask, taking in the man’s rugged features and shady black clothing - including a tugged down baseball cap, ‘hiding’ a nasty black eye. 

   “Just a coffee. Black. Please.” He says, his voice gruff, and you raise an eyebrow but nod, eyes falling from his face to the heavy black coat and the black shirt underneath.

   “Sure thing.” You mutter, turning to the coffee machine and pouring a cup, setting it out in front of him.

   You turn around just as he speaks again. “Sylvia Plath, huh?” Your eyes narrow as you spin around. 

   “Sorry?” You ask, startled, and he shrugs. 

   “You don’t seem like a ‘Bell Jar’ kinda girl, ‘s all.” You shrug in return, taken aback by the fact he is starting a conversation with you - albeit, an odd conversation, but anything to pass the time.

   “It was a gift.” You say nonchalantly, turning to put the coffee pot back and lean on the counter to face him. “My sister thought it would be interesting because I moved to the city.”

   He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips and you narrow your eyes. “C’mon, I don’t look that uneducated, do I?” You ask, and he shakes his head quickly.

   “Nothin’ like that. Just- has your sister read it?” He asks, and you shake your head. “Right... Well, try not to relate too much to it.”

   “Oh, so you’ve read it?” You ask, a tiny chuckle following your question, and he tilts his head. 

   “I don’t look that uneducated, do I?” He mimics your words from earlier and you laugh genuinely, leaning your elbows onto the cool surface of the counter. 

   “Guess not, ...” You trail off, raising a brow.

   “Frank.” He fills in, then you watch his eyebrows tug together and his eyes dart down as he seems to question himself for telling you. 

   “I’m Y/N.” You say, and he nods slowly. “Nice to meet you, Frank. So,-” You gesture to his face. “What did you do, get mugged or-” Your question is cut off and when you glance towards the door, you notice a biker-looking man surveying the diner, and sigh. “I’ll be right back, Frank.” 

   You slip out from the counter, grabbing your notepad, and stand in front of the man. “You can seat yourself, sir.” You say, met with silence as his eyes barely glance over you. You turn around to check for an available booth, but when you turn to face him again something’s changed.

   The world seems to slow to a stop as you take in the gun he holds in front of him, pointed directly at your forehead. “Everyone on their knees, now!” He shouts, and you realize that this is a robbery. 

   “I said NOW!” He says, aiming upwards and firing into the ceiling. You drop the notepad to the ground, eyes wide, and shakily start to lower yourself to your knees when he grabs your wrist. “Not you, darlin’.” The man says, and before you even get the chance to yank your arm away or scream, he spins you around and holds his forearm to your throat, his other hand pointing the gun at your head. 

   “Funny seeing you here, Punisher.” He spits the name out, and you look up to find Frank with a gun pointed at your assailant. Frank, who was talking to you about ‘The Bell Jar’ not five minutes ago. You gulp, your hands coming up to clutch at the arm across your windpipe. 

   You’ve heard about the Punisher - who hasn’t? The horrible killer that roams the streets, acting as he pleases and killing whomever he wants. Of course, you’ve always been less inclined to be scared of him - he only kills the criminals, the lowest of the lows, the sex traffickers and the murderers - but despite your lack of fear, he is now aiming a gun a few inches above you, and aiming at someone who could kill you at any second. 

   The Punisher shifts his pose slightly, eyes flicking down to you and then back up at the man. “This has nothing to do with these people. Let ‘em go.” He says, referring to the terrified customers still crouched on the floor. And you, of course. 

   The man chuckles, a low, raspy laugh, that you can feel reverberating in your back, and it makes you shudder. “What, so you can shoot me to pieces once I’m on my own? Not a chance.” He growls, in a distinctly Irish accent, you notice. 

   “Oh my god, I’m going to die” runs through your head, and you find yourself thinking about Jen and her kind, round face - probably at home, asleep, out of harm’s way. At least one good thing came of her leaving you on your own - it’ll probably be one less casualty. 

   Your mind is pulled back into reality as you feel yourself being dragged backwards, towards the storeroom, and you begin to struggle, your nails digging into his forearm. He winces, but shoves the steel end of the gun into your temple, and you loosen your grip. 

   He stops just short of the storeroom door, right behind the cash register, and releases his grip ever-so-slightly. “Get on with it.” He growls, and your eyes dart back over to Frank. His eyes meet yours and you swallow thickly, before your assailant shoves the gun into your temple again and tightens his grip on your windpipe. “I said, get on with it!” 

   You nod, reaching forwards to open the register, making eye contact with the Punisher again. You glance at the register, then back at him, before taking a deep breath. “I can’t- I can’t reach the last few keys.” You say, letting the wobble of fear show through your words, and the man growls in annoyance, before actually releasing your neck.

   In a flash, you duck down, falling to the floor and shoving yourself under the counter. Your head smacks against the ledge as you go, but it’s the least of your worries as a gunshot rings out, deafeningly loud, and then another and another, and suddenly the robber drops down to the floor in front of you. 

   A startled scream escapes you at the vacant eyes staring at you, before you notice the blood beginning to pool under him- and touching the hem of your apron and the tips of your fingers as it stretches towards you. Frantically, you scramble out from under the counter, taking a deep breath as your back hits the glass display case. 

   Your eyes survey the diner and find it empty, save for the Punisher. “You alright, Ma’am?” Frank asks, eyes glancing over you, and you actually find a hysterical laugh bubbling over your lips.

   “I guess so.” You manage, staring down at the blood creeping over the white and black tiles of the diner floor. “I think I’m gonna go home.” You say aloud, to no one in particular, before wiping the blood from your fingers onto your apron, tugging it off and leaving it on the counter in a heap.

   Just as you begin to pass the body, a thought occurs to you, and you reach down to tug your book out from under the counter. “Hold on a minute-” Frank says, reaching out as you start to pass him, but when you actively shrink back from his touch he retreats his hand. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to just- This mighta been a gang thing. There might be more men outside.”

   You start to nod, but find yourself stopping as the shock begins to wear off and a throbbing, white hot pain expands from the back of your skull. When you reach up to touch it, a wince escapes your lips, and your finger comes away red. “Huh.” You say, and make eye contact with Frank again.

   “You should go to a hospital.” He says, and you sigh.

   “And pay with what?” You say, and his brows furrow. “I’m a waitress at a diner, and I just bought a shithole of an apartment. I got maybe $12 in my bank account. If I’m lucky.” 

   Frank watches you for a moment, seemingly assessing you, before sighing. “I could fix that for you.” You raise an eyebrow, and he sighs and rubs his head with his hand, obviously unsure of himself. “Look, if I hadn’t been here he wouldn’t have had to grab you.” He explains, and you raise an eyebrow. 

   Taking in his all black outfit and the bruise peeking out from his shirt that you hadn’t noticed before, you can’t help but let the rational part of your brain tell you that it isn’t a good idea.

   Unfortunately, by the time that thought solidifies, the windows of the diner shatter inwards as gunshot sprays towards you. Frank dives - dives - on top of you, sliding the both of you back behind the counter, releasing his grip as you scramble back from the dead body that sits a few feet away from you.  

   Blinking the white edging out of your vision, you register the concern on his face, and as another few rounds of bullets fly over your heads and embed themselves into the wall behind you, all the newspaper headlines warning you not to let this vigilante take you to his apartment fly out of your head.

   “That, uh, actually seems like a good idea.” You mutter, eyes wide with fear as he pushes you towards the storeroom. 

   A string of colorful cursing makes you turn sharply, and when you find his eyes trained on the growing spot of red on the outside of your bicep, all you can do is mutter, “Oh.” 

   “Come on. I’ve got a- there’s a black van, just next to the dumpsters outside. Is there a back exit?” He asks, and though you’re still staring at your arm, you manage to nod dumbly. 

   “There’s a fire exit.” You shake yourself out of your stupor, shakily pushing yourself up into a crouch and pushing through the store room door, gesturing for Frank to follow.

   Once inside, the two of you rush to the door and you pause, hand over the lever. “Once I push, the fire alarm’s gonna go off.” You state, and Frank raises his eyebrows. 

   “So push.” 

   You nod, shoving down the door handle and sprinting towards the only car - the black van - you can see, as Frank throws open the driver’s side door as you slide into the passenger’s seat. 

   He tears out of the alley behind the diner, and you cast one last sad glance at the shattered window panes before Frank turns the van sharply, onto another street. 

   “You alright?” He asks, genuinely, turning to glance at you, and you nod, pushing the strands of hair off your sweaty forehead. The thought only suddenly occurring to you, you roll the sleeve of your white shirt up, just over your shoulder, and stare at the wound.

   “Huh.” You say, and Frank looks over at you, brow furrowed over his eyes. 

   “What? Shit, did the bullet go clean through?” He asks, and you wave him off, realizing he can’t see your side. 

    “Just grazed me,” You say, watching hesitantly as he slumps with relief beside you. “But I appreciate the concern, stranger.” 

   His eyebrows go up now, wrinkling the mottled purples and yellows that form the bruise above his brown eyes- “Wait, why am I noticing his eye color” - before he laughs, actually laughs. 

    “But you’re still in a van with me, heading to a strange man’s place.” Frank says in disbelief, and you shrug.

   “What can I say, I think my decision making has been a bit skewed since I almost got shot in the temple, don’t you think?” Your words have an odd bite to them that you hadn’t intended, and when you slump in your seat, Frank’s hand touches your forearm very briefly, before he focuses on the road so hard he looks like he’s in pain.

   “It’ll be okay.” Frank says - rather, he states - and though you have a hard time believing that, sitting in a vigilante’s car after a gang tried to kill you, you find yourself oddly comforted by his gruff affirmation.

   “I guess we’ll find out.” You mutter, focusing on the brick buildings around you.

[canaryatlaw]

ok, I need to get this post written and get to sleep because I’m way tired. Today of course was another awesome day, to finish off three awesome days of the weekend. My alarm went off at 7:30, 15 minutes to get out the door since I was gonna do my make up in the car, then 15 minutes to walk to Jess’ place at 8 (it doesn’t usually take that long, but I try to budget in extra time incase I run into some complications). Got there, got in the car and headed off to HVFF. This convention center is off by O’Hare, which is pretty much in the northwest corner of Chicago, so a bit of a drive even for those of us who live on the north side as we do. But we got there in pretty good time then tried to figure out will call to get our tickets. I had a VIP badge because I bought it on sale for super cheap sometime last summer, even though it was a two day badge and I only ended up using one day because I wanted to be at C2E2 with Caity yesterday, lol. So I got whisked off to a special VIP line because we got into the show floor a full hour and a half before the general admission people. So I got in and looked around, there were a few celebrities out but not all that many, and not many of the vendors were open yet, so I decided to venture over to the “Walker Stalker” side of the con, which is a whole Walking Dead con basically, Chicago is apparently the only city that does HVFF and walker stalker together, but it was basically an entirely different space with its own vendors and celebrities. I was going over there because one of the celebrities they had who’s apparently on the walking dead is Sarah Wayne Callies, also known as Sara from Prison Break. She was the only celebrity on my list that Jess didn’t want to also meet, so I figured I’d get her done while I was alone. We had to wait a little bit, I struck up a pleasant conversation with the woman in line behind me who had also not watched any of the walking dead and was getting this autograph for a family member, so it was nice to know I wasn’t the only person who felt soooooo out of place there, lol. literally have not ever watched an episode and I’m not terribly interested in doing so, but Prison Break, so here I was. Once she came out the line started moving pretty quickly, so I got up there pretty soon. She was super lovely, I told her I had mixed feelings about a possible season 6 because I just wanted the writers to let them have their happy ending they got at the end of season 5 and not make their lives more miserable, which she thought was very valid lol. She said it wasn’t confirmed yet (apparently “Dom talks like it’s alright a done deal when it’s not even written��) but they should know soon. So that was a nice pleasant interaction. After that Jess had gotten in with the general admission people, so we went to hit up Emma Dumont from the gifted. I’m not going to share too many details of the interaction because part of it involves a surprise for a friend, and even though I don’t think she’s on tumblr I don’t want to risk her somehow finding out and ruining the surprise. But basically Emma Dumont is the COOLEST. Like, I obviously adore Caity and think she's awesome, but like, for someone who’s not my favorite I think she had the best fan interactions of any celebrities I’ve meet so far. She was so chill, she spent so much time talking to every person on line, and at one point wanted to edit the sign stating her autograph schedule because it said she was supposed to take a break and she didn’t want to, so she crossed it out and just wrote “NO BREAKS” across it and it was so so funny. She was such a delight, and the surprise portion of the interaction went over SO well, I had no idea how she was gonna react, but it was legit the best case possible, so I was very thrilled with that. After that we decided to go to Franz table and chat with him, he didn’t have much of a line so we got up there pretty quickly. I had him sign my legends poster, which now has his, Brandon’s, Caity’s and Dom’s autographs on it. When I was talking to him I was saying how sad I was when they wrote Jax off and that I really didn’t like how they did it, with all the press surrounding Victor Garber leaving and then he was written off without so much as a warning, and he was like “yeah, you’re not alone in thinking that” haha but I told him I was very much looking forward to seeing him return in the finale tomorrow. After him we went over to Katrina’s table, she hadn’t come out yet so we waited for a little bit until she came out. We decided to split a selfie, and then each get polaroids with her because they’re doing the adorable little polaroid pictures for $10. We also wanted to talk to her about our idea for the photo op later in the day, because the actual photo op is so rushed there’s really not much time to explain something like that. So we brought up the appropriate meme and showed it to her, and she was totally in for it and thought it was great, so I was happy about that. After that we took a break for lunch for a bit, then wandered around the vendors and artists until about 1:30, then got in line for Emily Bett Rickards, since she was coming back at 2 to start signing, her general admission line was crazy long, but luckily there were only two people in front of us in the VIP line. Jess wanted to meet her because she wanted to get her Felicity funko pop signed for her brother. She took until like, 2:15 to come out, but we got to see her pretty quickly. She was very sweet, and I’m not at all insulting anything about how she acted, but you could kind of tell she had had some bad experiences with fans doing really awful things and just how that can make someone have a lot of hesitance about this stuff. Her board of prices for stuff also stated *no hugs please* at the bottom, which just tells me how bad previous interactions had gone that she would now need to post that. Apparently this was one of the first times she was even doing selfies. So I felt bad for her over all of that, but she was lovely and sweet and I have no complains about her behavior. After that we went to the bathroom so Jess could change back into her Ava cosplay for the photo op. We stopped at one of the booths and I got a green shirt that says “star city archery club” because why not. We then went to the booth that had some wigs on display and asked about a blonde one, because we wanted the photo op to be easily identifiable to people. I did manage to find a blonde wig that I was actually alright with how it looked, so that was a win. It doesn’t really look like Sara’s current white canary hair, but it actually looks a lot like her season 2 of Arrow Canary wig, so that works. Then we went over to the photo op area and ran into some bitch Jess hates which we had to act civil towards and make awkward small talk, but I mostly just stared her down the whole time, lol. Once we made it into the photo op area we got called in pretty quickly, we showed Katrina the meme again so she would know exactly what to do (it’s the distracted boyfriend other girl meme if you didn’t see me reblog it earlier) so we got into those poses and oh man, it came out so awesome, I loved it. Jess snapped a photo of the print out, not even the digital copy, and posted it on twitter and it now has like, 700 likes lol so my mentions have been blowing up all day about that, which is cool. After that we ran back to Katrina’s booth just because we wanted to show her how it turned out, and she loved it and hugged both of us and was just generally very sweet. We were more or less ready to go at that point, but Elodie Yung’s table was pretty much empty, so we kinda worked our way in there and were just like “I don’t have any money left but I wanted to say I love you and you’re awesome as Elektra” and she was very sweet. After that we headed out, walked over to the parking garage and then through that to where there are some attached restaurants, because apparently if you eat at one of the restaurants they’ll validate your parking. So we went to a cute little place where we had a nice meal, Jess had the biggest plate of nachos I’ve ever seen, so she wasn’t quite able to finish all of it, lol. After that we headed home, she dropped me off and I just took the costume off, got into comfy clothes, and sat down to binge some tv. I watched the episode of Riverdale that was first on the list of episodes I’d missed, and I was really like.....I don’t find this very interesting, which is kind of a shame because Madelaine Petsch was at the con today and I did get to see her from a small distance. Oh well. At 7:30 I turned on Brooklyn 99, which was excellent of course, then started to finally start Rise, which I watched the first 3 episodes of, and I have to say I really like it so far. I know it’s supposed to be based on true events, but the Glee parallels are like, REALLY obvious, the teacher is completely Schuester 2.0, they recruit the football player, the threatening football coach, and just stuff like that. but it was definitely excellently cast, Auli’i is incredible of course, and the girl they cast as Gwen, when she did the “soft” version of purple summer, I was seriously getting chills- like the depths they went to to cast that character is nuts, and they did it very, very well. So I’m looking forward to watching more of that. And yeah, then I got in the shower and got ready for bed and here I am, did I mention I’m TIRED?? So I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight dolls. Happy start of your week.

[venusparker]

storms ↬ p.p

prompt: with tony stark’s eye on the newest superhero, he asks peter to keep an eye on them, only to be met with some complications.

warnings: nothing really, just flash being a dick i guess. also kinda long guys 

notes: highkey got this idea after watching “beautiful creatures,” and i got inspired by a scene in there after watching it for the fourteenth time. this is so random and it’s a little different than my other imagines because there’s a lot more plot to it and i’m thinking of making this into a mini series if you guys enjoy it! tell me what you think and i hope u enjoy xo

Peter Parker, though he’d never admit it, is keen on having a routine.

Though he could say that changed after becoming Spider-Man, because of course how could he not, even being a superhero had become a part of his schedule, taking up certain (maybe estimated in the slightest) times when he preferred to go out and about and explore Queens, maybe even further out into New York if he had the time. 

When there was a robbery or break in, or worse God knows what, he always had a game plan—or, at least a something that would allow him to think things through somewhat.

He liked being more cautious and prepared than he’d like to think (because he doesn’t like to see himself as boring, which to be fair, he really isn’t), almost as much as he also liked the spontaneity of his adventures.

The thing, basically, about Peter was that he liked getting used to things—it made his nervous self feel better about a situation when his anxiety seemed to endlessly spike through the roof. Which was not a problem, really, because Peter tended to get used to people, ideas, and new environments quite easily. After all, how else could he deal with Tony Stark suddenly taking him under his wing without freaking out too much?

However, Peter still had yet to get used to you.

Peter knows he’s technically supposed to be the one watching over you ever since Mr. Stark told him so. You were—in a completely non-objectifying way, Tony just couldn’t think of a different noun—the newest project, an underground superhero that he had been researching over at Stark Industries after stumbling upon a video of you in your suit, fighting off some bad guys that the government was supposed to take care of; a project that he so thoughtfully handed over to Peter upon finding out that the both of you went to the same school.

Just how Tony Stark found out who you were without knowing what you looked like under the mask, Peter will never know, even though the same thing happened to him. But he knew one thing: you were now his responsibility.

Not that he minded exactly. You two had always been friendly with each other, and you were in most of his classes—and really, you guys are close enough to be considered friends, having each other’s phone numbers and all, but it wasn’t enough for him to suddenly be keeping an eye on you without you becoming the least bit suspicious. 

He was more than sure that you could handle yourself, seeing as you managed to take out villains twice your age and twice your size faster than the government could (Peter’s still incredibly amazed by that), but Tony wanted reassurance.

And Peter wanted to impress Tony.

Tony Stark had said something along the lines of you being still very new to your powers, and that it was easy for you to lose control, both of which were dangerous when mixed with each other. 

If it had been something subtle like Peter’s super strength or spidey sense, or wall climbing—all of which he could easily hide even when he first started being Spider-Man—then maybe it would be more simple. Unfortunately, your powers didn’t have that luxury. You had the powers of manipulating and creating elements and weather at command, and unfortunately, also at emotion.

To put it simply: since you’re so fresh to this world, this newfound gift and burden, you getting angry could cause a lightning storm any second and that wouldn’t be pretty. And so, there Peter was, staring at you as you sat a lunch table away from him, figuring out how to tell you this.

If he was going to keep an eye on you, he might as well tell you the truth, right? He’d rather have that than you thinking he was a complete and utter stalker, and he’s sure that telling you he’s Spider-Man would be the one, reasonable exception to his Try & Keep It A Secret rule

He wonders if you had told anybody, like your best friend who was currently sitting in front of you, laughing at something you had said. Or maybe you told your parents. Maybe you hadn’t told anybody. You were young, just like he was, and he was quickly beginning to wonder how other teenagers handled and reacted to having a life like this, a life full of danger and risks at such a small growing age.

“Dude, you are staring!” Peter hears Ned whisper to him urgently, and he turns his head to see Ned rolling his eyes and quietly groaning. “Since when were you so interested in [Y/N] eating lunch?”

Peter sighs, then blushes, but coughs to cover it up. “Shut up, Ned. It’s nothing, it’s just Stark stuff.”

Ned narrows his eyes and takes a sip of his chocolate milk. “Are you absolutely sure, Peter? Because you’re looking at them like it’s a lot more than a Stark Internship on your mind.”

Peter lightly kicked Ned’s chair, blushing even harder, and he let out a nervous chuckle. He had always found you attractive and funny and a good friend, but he refused to let his best friend’s words fluster him. He loved being your friend, but there had always been something about you that he couldn’t put his finger on. Now, with discovering your true abilities, he knows what the something was.

Still, even after knowing, he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to someone like you.

And truthfully, that wasn’t a bad thing.

“Should I go talk to them?” Peter asks, glancing at you for the umpteenth time while you remain oblivious, wrapped up in conversation with your best friend. “It’s so crazy, Ned. You won’t believe what Mr. Stark found out about [Y/N]!”

“Tell me later, just go. I’m tired of you giving [Y/N] the flirty eye, it’s exhausting,” Ned says simply and Peter rolls his eyes but gets up anyway.

“I wasn’t giving the flirty eye,” he mumbles as he walks away, slowly walking up to your table, stopping the talking between you and your friend.

You look up from your half finished food and give Peter a smile, and a part of you feels excited. You considered yourself to be good enough friends with Peter, but you always found yourself wishing that the both of you talked more. Giving Peter an expectant look, your best friend gives you a discreet smile and makes up an excuse about having to throw away her trash.

“What’s up, Pete?”

Peter stops and pauses. Crap, crap, crap. This whole thing went a lot better in his head. He practically wrote a script of what he wanted to say to you and how to say it and the minute you locked eyes with him—it all vanished. Was that even possible?

Gone, poof! Like he had never even thought of it, and he gulps, counting this as one of the reasons why he prefers to be ready for something. And now, he sweats from embarrassment, and he stands there like a fidgety loser.

His mouth is trying to keep up with his brain, hoping to think of what to say, when it all just slips out.

“I–I know your secret!” He says too quickly and too loud, making you widen your eyes and look around the both of you, and releasing a breath of relief when you realize no one had really cared.

You stand up and move closer to him, unintentionally making the breath hitch in his throat.

“What secret is that, exactly, Peter?” You question and narrow your eyes at him, speaking low yet innocently, like you’re not admitting to anything but if you reach a point where you’d have to, you will.

“I’m—well, I’m Spider-Man and Tony Stark sent me,” He confesses, rushing as he sees Flash make his way over and suddenly Peter wants to shrink in his sweater and disappear. “He knows about you being the one who took out some of those guys who were stealing his dangerous weapons. I can’t believe you never told me!”

“Excuse me? Peter, look at yourself, you never exactly gave me any clues to you being Spider-Man,” you chuckle to cover up how bothered you are that your identity had already been found out by Tony friggin’ Stark and you hadn’t even been a hero that long yet.

You also tried to keep your composure after finding out that Peter Parker was Spider-Man, but you felt your ankles slightly give way and you clutched the wall behind you, playing it off. You gave him a sharp look and added:

“And I’d never be an Avenger.”

At this point, Flash reaches you as the last syllables of the word “Avenger,” slips from your lips and he looks over at Peter.

“Oh what, [Y/N]? Is Penis Parker still trying to convince everybody that he’s friends with Tony and that birdsuit guy?” Flash teases, a taunting smile shot over to Peter and you can see the boy next to you take in a shaky breath and look down.

Though you had tolerated Flash since he could be nice when he wanted to be and was actually a good person deep down, you knew how much of a bully he could be to Peter—the two of them going back and forth, but mainly Flash initiating it and making it worse. It was irrevocably aggravating. So, understandably, that always made you angry.

“First of all, Flash, that birdsuit guy’s name is Falcon, everyone knows that, also it’s not a birdsuit,” You point out snappily, in a snarky tone, and Peter hears distant thunder rolling outside even though the news said today was supposed to be a clear and sunny forecast. “And his name is Peter Parker, not Penis Parker, Eugene Flash Thompson, it’s not that hard really.”

Flash’s smile falters and he backs off, running his fingers over his dark skin. “It was a just a joke, I’m sorry.”

Peter looks outside the window and raises his eyebrows as he sees clouds roll in the harder you clench your fists. He instinctively grabs as your arm, stopping you from taking a step towards Flash.

You make a face. “Well I didn’t find your joke very funny.”

Suddenly, a loud and bright strike of lightning shoots out from the sky, drops of heavy, pouring rain following quickly after, causing Flash to break hold and for you to marvel at what you had just done. Peter quickly jumps to your side, as you accidentally make more lightning strike on the now wet parking lot, throwing an arm around you, nervously chuckling. He guides you to the doors, leaving everyone behind until it’s just you two in the hall.

“Cool it down, cool it down,” He whispers frantically into your ear, and the feeling of his lips brushing against your earlobe in panic instantly does the trick and you’re taking a deep breath and you watch the skies clear up again, once you get rid of the clouds you had conjured.

That’s the thing with your powers. You tended to create more than manipulate (although manipulate is also something you could do if you wanted), meaning you couldn’t use the clouds or the sun or whatever was already there—you weren’t a God after all— and so you mainly made your own. You could make it rain indoors if you felt like it.

That’s what made you so powerful, you figured. That’s why Tony Stark wanted you as part of the Avengers.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, running a hand through your hair in distress as Ned makes his way over.

“Dude that was awesome, oh my gosh!” Ned rambled excitedly, gleaming at you.

“No it wasn’t, I could’ve started a storm!” You reply reasonably, not caring that Ned now knows as well, because if Peter knew, it was only a matter of time until Ned did. The two boys purse their lips and consider something, making you confused. You furrow your eyebrows, leaning against a locker. “What?”

“Well, I mean…that was pretty awesome, [Y/N],” Peter tells you, giving you a sweet and thankful smile that could make your heart flutter. “Thanks for defending me like that.”

“You could defend yourself, Peter. I’ve heard some of your witty remarks when you think no one can you muttering under your breath in class when you get in trouble for not paying attention,” You give him a grin and you make him go red.

“I think that’s enough superhero talk for one day,” Peter says, “Well, for you.”

“Trust me, we’ll see about that,” you smirk at him, but there’s a glint in your eye, another thing that he can’t get used to, and it’s a glint saying something he can’t read. He finds himself looking away, his face getting hot.

You’ve started another storm, but this time it’s not outside.

It’s in Peter’s head, and his heart, and he’s fiddling with pockets of his jeans. It’s bad, because he knows he’s probably being ridiculous right now but, he wonders if adoring you is something he actually could get used to.

Maybe it already is.

[writingthingsisdifficult]

Perfect afternoon

Anonymous sent a request: Could you please write something with Sam for me? Maybe like the song For Forever by Dear Evan Hansen please? I just lost my sister to cancer and I need something to look forward to. Thank you

This was a bit hard to write, had to let the song simmer for a while before inspiration struck, ‘cause the song is so melancholic – but I hope you like what I came up with, and I hope you have let the grief run its course, but not let it consume your life.

Note: I’ve used the song for inspiration, it may not be that easily recognised all the time.

Sam x reader, and there’s no warnings on this that I can think of, except some language, I guess.

Word count: 2620

June has transitioned into July before we caught a bit of a break and got to relax for a while. The spring and early summer was hell, quite literally, and all of us yearned for a few days of just breathing and living without fighting to survive. So at the first sign of peace Dean and I managed to convince Sam that a small holiday was an absolute necessity.

That’s how we find ourselves in a spacious cabin, courtesy of a very grateful, old widow whose late husband tried to shut her in the basement of their very old-fashioned home. Granted: she didn’t fully understand what happened at the time, but she understood enough to know that we saved her life, and rescued her beloved, rat-like, yappy-type dog too, and promptly offered us unlimited use of her mountain cabin. As she said: it was just sitting there, dusty and unused anyway.

Mountain cabin is probably a bit generous, though. It is located on the outskirts of a small town nestled snugly at the base of a picturesque range of tall hills, but not high enough to warrant extra gear or a big car to get us there – but it is private enough to shield us from the curious eyes of the locals.

Dean took to it immediately. The weather is warm, and the air is dry, and he spends the days either on the shore of the small lake just behind the cabin with a cold beer in one hand and a musty, old fishing rod he’s excavated from one of the many cupboards, or with a bucket of soapy water and a rag, taking care of his one true love.

“Baby needs some love,” he says, sending looks of adoration and affection to the car, the water spraying rainbows into the air. The Impala shines like a star, standing happily in the gravel by the porch.

Taking refuge from the scorching mid-day sun, I sit down in the porch swing – carefully, testing that the wood hasn’t rotted through. It proves an unnecessary worry: the swing creaks a bit under my weight, but holds up, and I rock back and forth on my toes. “Seriously, Dean, that is not a healthy relationship,” I tease, giggling from the dark look in his eyes once he overcomes the initial shock of my indecent accusation.

“She’s not young anymore, Y/N, you know that. She needs a lot of TLC –“

“Relax, dude. I didn’t mean it. You two are made for each other. You’ll make each other very happy –“

“Shut it! Go bother Sam if you can’t be nice.” He picks up the bucket and carries it over to the other side of the car, out of my sight.

Shrugging, I get to my feet. “I would, but I don’t know where he is,” I say, hoping my voice sounds normal. Sam has been restless ever since the evening we arrived – like he has forgotten how to relax, and I rarely see him other than at breakfast and dinner. What he does with the rest of his time is a mystery. And it sort of breaks my heart a little.

Sam’s happiness, or lack of, affects me a lot. During the years we’ve known each other, I so very foolishly have gone and fallen in love with him, but I lack the courage to do anything at all about it. Instead, I have buried my thumping heart deep in my chest, and evicted all the fluttering butterflies from my stomach, and pretend that we were just friends. Because that’s what we’ve always been.

Dean pokes his head over the roof of the car and cocks his head. “Last I saw him, he sat out back with his nose in a book. Knowing him, he hasn’t moved yet.” He shakes his head and ducks back down behind the car again, muttering about rest and relaxation and not being able to take a break from research.

Jumping to my feet, I offer thanks over my shoulder and heads for the kitchen, thinking I might as well have an excuse for interrupting Sam when he obviously wants to be alone. I grab a couple of glasses and the mug of lemonade I made for lunch and head into the meadow behind the cabin.

Even though I am used to being around Sam, I still stutter a bit when I see him. He has laid out a folded blanket on the grass and sits with the book in his hand, but his face is turned towards the sun. The flannel he usually wears is discarded in a crumpled heap by his feet, and he’s kicked off his shoes and socks. If I had ever thought about how my personal heaven would look like, this would come very close.

“Hey,” I say when I get close enough.

Opening his eyes, he blinks a couple of times, and then he smiles. “Hey.”

I can’t think of anything else to say, so I simply hold out the lemonade with a tilt to my head: an unspoken offer. Sam puts away his book and scoots over to make room for me. As I sit down, I only spill a couple of drops, but it is enough to make me yelp in surprise as the cold liquid slosh over my knee, sending an icy blast through my veins. The sound of Sam laughing so heartily makes me feel like I am soaring through the blue skies.

It’s as if time slows down. A light breeze blows over us, gifting us the music from unseen birds in the trees and the buzzing insects. Drowsy summer day heat rolls over our faces, and we watch the slow ripples on the lake, just taking in the calm and storing it for times when shit blows up.

I gotta say something – this balloon in my chest is almost bursting, but when I look at Sam, I’m afraid I’m gonna talk gibberish. Taking a deep breath, I roll my shoulders. “You know what I really want right now?” My mind is set, but I chicken out at the last minute, when his beautiful eyes lock with mine. All air rushes out of my lungs. Typical. “A proper ice cream. Like made of cream and real vanilla seeds and chocolate.” The lie comes fast and seamlessly, and I don’t think he notices the hesitation that lasts for a fraction of a moment. But there is no hiding the colour that spreads over my cheeks or the heat that flushes my face like a furnace. I pick at the frayed edge of the blanket.

Sam looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, and we just sit there, watching the trees and the water and the sun slowly making her way over the sky. To our left a bumblebee is busy head-butting all the flowers it can find, and the sight make me giggle.

“They don’t look like the smartest of animals, do they?” I reply to Sam’s curious look, pointing at the flying paradox that is now eagerly trying to fit into a light pink foxglove that is just a couple of sizes too small.

“Uh-huh…” says Sam, laughing at the bumbling creature, not noticing my lingering gaze or how I stop myself from reaching out to run my hand through his hair. Instead, he points to a different flower. “Look, there’s another one. They’re kinda… graceful…”

“Really?” I snort.

“Well, considering they’re not really supposed to be able to fly, I’d say it’s almost like a ballet dancer,” he replies with a sheepish smile.

Flopping over on my stomach, I hide my face in the blanket for a second before laughing loudly and startling the closest bumblebee. “The Ballet of the Bumblebee,” I proclaim, waving my hand dramatically, awkwardly striking a vague pose.

We fall quiet again, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve always been comfortable with silence. So close to the ground, the rich, dark scent of drying soil fills my nose, and I inhale deeply, cementing this day in my memories.

Without thinking, I pick a yellow flower and wafting it slowly back and forth. The scent is almost buttery, and sweet, and transports me back to when I was young and carefree, and the biggest worry I had was the amount of homework Mr. Lewis assigned over the weekend.

The flower slips out of my hand, and floats tucks itself behind my ear –I look up to find Sam looking down at me. His eyes are soft, and his hand lingers around the flower stem. “I…” he says, but shuts up. His eyes flick up towards the cabin, and a few seconds later, Dean saunters past us, with the cooler in one hand, and the fishing rod in the other. He is humming to himself, and almost skips over the grass.

Sitting up, Sam clears his throat. “Hey, Dean, you done with your baby?”

“Huh?” He stops and looks around, as if he hasn’t even noticed us sitting there. “Yeah, for now. Why?”

“Gimme the keys. I want ice cream.”

My head whips in Sam’s direction, and I ungraciously swallow a lot of air, and I probably look like an idiot with my eyes on stalks when Dean fishes the keys from his pocket. Before he tosses them to Sam, he gives us a stern look. “No funny business,” he says with half a smile. “And don’t you dare hurt her,” he adds after some thought.

“What, the car or Y/N?” Sam asks lightly, pulling me to my feet, but Dean’s answer is nothing more than a mumbled grumble. We burst out laughing, and run and stumble towards the cabin before Dean can change his mind.

Sam must have been more awake than me when we first drove into town, because he has no trouble finding parking space, and moments later, he pulls me through the door and into a small ice cream shop that I could swear just popped out of nowhere.

They don’t have too many flavours to choose from, but it’s enough, and we both end up with a couple of scoops of soft deliciousness that threaten to drip down our hands in the heat from the sun.

Licking the ice cream and walking slowly through the sleepy streets, we make our way to a small park that’s obviously made with passing tourists in mind – it’s filled with fake “authentic” monuments over semi-historical events and places, and every couple of yards there’s benches dedicated to people who no doubt are famous if you were born in this town.

Sitting down on one dedicated to Deirdre, who, according to the plaque, didn’t give a crap about the park, but liked to feed the pigeons, we watch people wander by, and the trees and the squirrels foraging and preparing for colder weather.

I nod towards a large grey one, and suck a drop of sugary cream off my finger. “Did you know they sometimes pretend to bury their nuts and seeds to fool other squirrels? Like, they dig a hole and drop the nut in, but really it’s still in their mouth, and then they go bury it somewhere else.” I’m rambling, I know, but suddenly I feel Sam’s sitting so close that my brain can barely function.

“You know so much weird shit, Y/N,” Sam says and stuffs the rest of his cone into his mouth like he has no worries in the whole world. How can he not know how he makes me go all gooey inside?

“Heh, yeah, I’m killing it on trivia nights.”

Smiling, Sam exhales through his nose. “I can’t remember the last time we did a quiz night. It’s gotta be years, right?”

Scrunching my eyes together, I try to remember, but I come up blank. “I think so. We don’t get much normal nights out, do we, Sam?”

“Nah. I guess… What do you think you’d do if… if you weren’t in the, uh, business, I mean?”

His voice is soft, and I imagine I can hear a whole lifetime of sadness in it. “I, uh, I don’t know,” I reply, clearing my throat to remove the sudden lump behind my uvula. “Just normal stuff, you know? Travel, I guess… I hope I’d still be writing. Maybe I’d publish a book or something. That would be cool. But I can’t really imagine having a regular job, you know?” I sigh, and stare down the path that disappears under the trees. “How about you?”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

I say, “me too,” and smile into my ice cream.

“No really, I mean it, Y/N.” His hand lands on top of mine, the one I rest on the bench seat, and he squeezes lightly. In my chest, my heart stops, and when I finally dare to look up, his eyes shine with something new. “If this is what I get… If I get to be with you, just this day, then… Life will be alright for forever this way.”

Standing up, he suddenly says, “follow me,” and we walk quickly towards the small hill over by the blackberry bushes – and I wonder if I just imagined the last five minutes.

When we pass the berries, and start half climbing up the rocky slope, I’m pretty convinced that my mind is playing tricks on me, but I can’t give up on that thought that something big is going to happen, that soon my life will be turned upside down. With my mind wandering, I place one foot after the other, the ground is wobbly, but the sun shines in our faces, so no one can blame me for not paying attention.

But then I step on a loose stone: I slip and fall, tumbling down a few yards. My foot feels weird, there’s a knobbly branch poking my back, and the world seems upside down indeed. Groaning, I try to feel my foot. It’s not broken. That’s good, at least. No, it’s nothing serious: just a bruised ankle, and an equally bruised pride.

“Oh shit, you okay?” Sam’s head appears over my face, a worried look in his eyes. He has come to get me, and everything is okay. Everything is okay.

I try to nod, but it’s weird when down is up and up is down, so I just smile. “Hhhh… yeah. Just got knocked about a little. I’m… I’m good.” Sitting up, I wince from the pain in my side, but it disappears when Sam offers me his hand and pull me up – and then don’t let go of me when I’m securely on my feet.

Hand in hand we climb to the top – and the view is breathtaking. We can see for forever from here: the vast, blue sky and the mountains and the small town behind us. I step up on a stone, maybe it’s to get a better look, or maybe it’s subconsciously, I don’t know, but blood rushes in my ears from knowing I’m here, with Sam, and we’re watching the sun over the trees and the soft pastels painting the sky. In any case, I don’t notice Sam watching me.

A cool breeze sends a ripple of goosebumps over my skin, and then I feel the warmth of his skin like a wall against my back, and I half turn to look what he’s doing, and his face is so close to mine I feel his breath fan over my lips as he leans in. The hair on my arms rise, and in my chest my heart is beating its rhythmic music, and right that moment – on that perfect afternoon – we’re both on the top of the world.

Tagging my for forever beautiful friends:

@awesomeahwu @brynleewolfe @funwithfanfics @babeinthebowtie @savingapplepie-eatingthings @winchesterprincessbride @savvythedork @littlegreenplasticsoldier @youtubehelpsmesurvive @blackcherrywhiskey @mrswhozeewhatsis @schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte @aiaranradnay @fandomismyspiritanimal @barneybrigade  @mogaruke @wstrumpel @whovianextrodinare @hennessy0274-blog @sushi-senpai-chan @tardis-is-mine @badasssweetsrebel @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @megasimpleplan4ever @iamreadinginsecret

[steamishot]

Last of 2019

Back at work and I’m the only one in my office this week. Highlights from the last two weeks:

Spent a good amount of time on the east coast. Vacations are much better when you aren’t as pressed for time. I think the last time I was in NYC, it wasn’t hard to say bye because I didn’t even physically/mentally settle in. When I had more time during this trip, I had more capacity to process and reflect about things. It felt like I was slowly building my life there, but had to return. I didn’t want to come back. Luckily, the weather was good the majority of the time I was there. It wasn’t unbearably cold, and it only rained my last night and day.

Matt and I learned more about how to cohabitate with each other on this trip. He’s gotten used to living alone, so he would make comments about my hair being everywhere, or wanting me to do things a certain way (i.e. not step in the bathroom with sandals on, not leave clothes on the chair, etc.). I said if he really wants to live with me, then he has to learn how to live with me and have some compromise. He told me, if/when I move to NYC, I’ll feel more free and have more freedom because I’ll be living “alone”. I said freedom from what? He said family obligations and the such. I think that I’ll be more individualistic but I won’t be “free” because I’ll have duties as his partner, which I think may be more constricting than what my parents expect of me LOL. As opposed to my parents who do their share of work at home, I most likely will pick up the household chores at home with Matt. I also won’t have my own space to retreat to, so I’m not sure how that will be.

During my time there, two “major” things happened- 1. I endangered his building and us by accidentally leaving the stove on for 8+ hours. 2. He realized he lost $500 in cash. The first thing happened on Christmas day. All his housemates were gone, so we were hanging out/eating breakfast in the living room/kitchen. I had just arrived back from my Washington DC/Pennsylvania trip the night before and we barely got to talk about it or hang out because he got back late as well. In the morning, we were bickering because I felt he was insensitive and annoying. I was probably too focused on being annoyed that I was careless with the knob. Instead of turning it off, I turned it completely to the opposite side of low, where the stove was still on but no flame was burning. We made up during breakfast and as we were walking up the stairs back to his room, he said “all the stoves are off?” as he glanced over to check. He was looking for flame and didn’t see any so thought we were good. I looked over too and was almost gonna go closer since I didn’t have my glasses on. I decided that it wasn’t important to double check myself lol and thought his judgment was good enough. We got ready and left the house for our Christmas fun. When we came back 8+ hours later, we smelled gas as we approached our door (on the 3rd floor of the building). Instinctively, Matt placed his hand on the door to check if it warm.  

Very fortunately, nothing was set off. The windows were all shut tight as well. He rushed in to turn off the stove and opened the windows. The smell of gas was so strong, I was afraid of breathing it in and cowardly went back outside LOL. In hindsight, Matt was very brave. We both went back outside and then decided to just go upstairs again and hang out in the balcony right outside of his room. He turned on the fan and the vent, and also charged his phone (which in hindsight might have not been the brightest ideas, since we’re supposed to not use anything electrical for fear that it would create a spark and start an explosion). We didn’t have a CO meter. The smell of natural gas went away about an hour later, but we didn’t want to risk sleeping in the apartment that night in case there were traces of CO or not enough oxygen ratio(?). I ended up getting us a hotel walkable to his workplace. He was stressed out because it was late already ~9pm when this happened, and he would have to be up at 6am. As we were about to leave the apartment in a rush, he realized that he had left his keys inside his room that we already locked. He was very heroic and was able to break in to his own room with a knife in a couple minutes. The last time that happened (one other time), it took him a few hours to break back in. It all worked out and the hotel we stayed at was very nice. They provided yoga mats, blocks, and resistance bands, and had delicious tea in the waiting room. Our series of fortunate and unfortunate events...

When we got to the hotel, we looked a bit strange as we were holding a few packing cubes, like we just threw some stuff together before arriving. The next morning, he left to work and I brought our stuff back to his place. Long story short, his cleaning lady was over at his place to clean. Tenants are supposed to leave their room open if they want the lady to go in and clean their room. He wanted his room cleaned, so I would have to leave it open, but he needed his valuables to be packed away. The cleaning lady was already there when I arrived, which made me feel a little safer knowing that the place is safe and not gas infested anymore lol. Per his instructions, I tidied up and locked up some valuables in the closet. He asked that I also lock up his cash (which he claimed was in his drawer). But I couldn’t find it and had to leave because I had a hang out planned with my new Japanese friends. So while I was out with my new friends, Matt was anxious at work about his cash. When we met up after he got off work that night, his OCD was on blast and he couldn’t stop thinking about his money being lost. The cleaning lady ended up not cleaning the room even though I left the door open, maybe because the door was shut when she first arrived? At first he accused the cleaning lady of stealing it, but he couldn’t remember where he last saw the money. We spent two nights and a day catering to his OCD and cleaning out his room to try to find the money. Til today, he still is ruminating about this and can’t figure it out. 

This series of events, place almost burning down -> losing $500 was very stressful for Matt. His parents and I keep telling him that $500 is not a big deal. For him, it’s not the amount of money that’s important, but he is bothered because he did something “careless” and can’t even remember where he went wrong.

Recap on my “solo” trip to Philly/DC. In socal, I’m familiar with the idea of Chinese tours as my parents have gone, and I have gone once as a kid with my mom and grandma. There’s a meeting spot, ideally with a parking lot. In NYC, I couldn’t really picture how that would work as the roads are crazy and parking is limited. I was kinda anxious about my trip, but once I got a text from my tour guide the day before, I felt safe that I had a contact. I seamlessly found my way to the meeting spot via subway in the morning. I saw one middle aged Chinese lady and a couple standing there. I asked them if it was for the tour. Funny enough, that couple would be my new friends later on in my trip. My tour group was 16 people total – a thai family of 6, a Filipino family of 4, a Chinese lady with her Chinese friend and son, the Japanese couple, and me. On the first day, I sat behind the thai lady and her ~7/8 year old daughter. They were bougie thai with fur jackets, prada bags and designer shoes etc. They reclined their seat so far that I was pretty uncomfortable and annoyed. The first day, we went to Princeton, Philly hop on/hop off tour, Lancaster/Amish tour, and then dinner. The coolest thing was getting to learn about and see the Amish. Everyone on our tour decided to eat at the buffet that night. We all sat in one section, and fortunately the Japanese girl asked if I wanted to join them. We ended up getting along well, and had some things in common: we’re all 27, they did and are doing long distance (dating 6 years, married 1 year), they’ve lived in LA for a few months, I’ve been to japan a couple of times, we all watch terrace house lol. I was happy that I had people to hang out with on the tour, as the other families kept to themselves.

The second day of the tour was awesome. I didn’t really have too much of an interest in DC before, but the town is beautiful. I want to go back to explore more. We got to see the white house, Lincoln memorial and US Capitol. I learned a lot at the US Capitol and really enjoyed our tour. As our white lady tour guide asked our group where everyone was from, she chuckled when everyone else named a country and I named a city – Los Angeles. She said in her 40 years of being a tour guide, she found that those who are from LA or Chicago tend to just say LA or Chicago, whereas other people would say their state. My argument is that more people know what Los Angeles is than what California is. And Chicago is definitely more well-known than “Illinois” haha.

Memories that we created:

He made me breakfast twice.

I built his Bunkie board. He had complained about his Casper mattress, and I found out he wasn’t using the correct platform to support his bed, and it was actually sinking in and causing backpain. 

We exchanged Christmas gifts. I made him a photobook. Due to some shipping issues, they actually shipped one to his address, and one to my address. So my Asian ass is happy I got two books for the price of one and didn’t have to pay anything extra for shipping. He really liked the gift. But the photo quality wasn’t the best. He got me an instax camera. I thought the color was ugly lol, because of course he bought the one that was on sale, but enjoyed using it during my trip. 

We checked out the Bryant village winter park, which was overly crowded and went to the rockerfeller tree.

I watched him hysterically laugh at ronny chieng’s Netflix special. It was especially funny because Ronny describes people like matt exactly- Chinese Americans who live in NYC, who rely heavily on online platforms (Amazon, uber eats, instacart, etc.), have tonal problems, and loves money. His skit about Chinese people and their relationship with money and being a doctor is hilarious. 

We went ice skating in a REAL winter outdoorsy area. He fell. I didn’t. 

We started this tradition of going to Murray’s cheese shop every time I’m in NY. They have wonderful cheeses and cured meats. 

We had a very Christmas-esque Christmas day. I got us tickets for the Christmas Spectacular with the Radio City Rockettes, which seems to be a very traditional holiday show. Their first performance was in 1933. They’re very visually pleasing and the show reminded us of the magical feeling of Christmas. In one scene, as they showed the biblical history, they brought out real sheep and a camel which was amazing haha. We then picked up vegan sushi and ate it at Central Park, where the lake was frozen. Then had a delicious hot pot dinner. 

Almost burned the house down. He called me careless, but I asked him to name something positive about the event. He said he enjoyed when I was screaming for his safety and kept reminding him to come outside to breathe fresh air. 

Lost $500 incident and worked through that lol

Marie Kondo’d his room. NYC is very generous with paper bags so he had stacks and stacks of grocery bags because he is a hoarder. We finally got rid of that. 

Brought him to eat at this amazing Cantonese café that serves crack hk milk tea. I found that place when I had the day to explore myself, and liked it so much I was willing to go again 2 days later. Happy to know there is a branch in SGV too. He also found the milk tea mindblowing. The prices are also incredible for NYC. We over ordered and overate, and the bill was still under $25/person. This restaurant is definitely LA prices. 

Went to iPic luxury theater using a gift card I received to watch star wars. We initially had planned on watching it at an AMC since he was able to get discounted tickets ~$18 for 2 which is a complete steal in that city. However, with my gift card, we would only have to pay $3. He ended up really liking the experience and called it the “first class” of movie going. 

Did some shopping/window shopping at uniqlo, Canada goose, and moma store at Soho. I only heard about the brand CG a few months ago when I saw a youtuber wear it. I looked it up and learned that it’s at least $500 to almost 1k per coat. I saw a few people in London wear it, but lots of people in NYC (especially the Asians) wear it for a status symbol. Matt, being the elitist that he is, was interested in it too and started pointing out everyone wearing one. So we went to check out the actual store to see what the hype was about. Not worth it for me. 

Ate delicious oysters. 3 rounds!! That vinegar and lemon combo tho. Tried oyster stout and it was good! Our seafood dinner was also delish. 

Made and ate cheese/meat/fruit platter while watching Long shot. 

Tried NY cheesecake for the first time!

Things I learned from my Japanese friends about Japan/Japanese people:

Everyone follows rules and regulations. People are afraid to go against this and say no. This may make life stressful and cause a higher suicide rate

People normally commit to the same job after graduation. It looks bad to job hop. The best way to earn more/be promoted more is to stay at the same company.

If you find money on the floor, you’re supposed to bring it to the police station where they will ask you a series of questions (where did you find this, what time, etc).

People use wallets/phones/valuables to save their spot

Japanese iphones/smart phones always have the shutter sound on their camera, even on silent, and even if you’re using earphones. This is because of their pervert problems. HOWEVER, she showed me a trick where you just take a video instead and can still be perverted lol.

My 2020 resolution is quite contingent upon how Matt’s life will unfold. I go back and forth between wanting him back in California, or wanting him to stay in NYC. I don’t care too much about professional growth, as long as I have a steady and high enough income. I need to figure out which program he will be going to next in order to plan out when I will quit my job and if I will move. After coming back from the east coast, I realize that I’m a little stunted being in the same city. I’ve lived in LA my whole life, went to school here, and am still here post-grad. I still do feel like a bird in the nest. After a while of exploring NYC, I felt like I ran out of places I want to visit. NYC is definitely more city life. For fun, people go out to bars, restaurants, clubs, museums, parks, and shopping. It’s crowded everywhere and hard to get away from people. I enjoy how LA provides a mixture. There are city like parts, but lots of suburban areas in between. I thought I was gonna walk a lot during my NYC trip, but I realize walking there feels so much more tiring than it does here because of how crowded it is. When I walk a mile here on campus, it feels refreshing because of the greenery and nice weather. It’s relaxing. Over there, you’re just packed like sardines and there’s a lot of foot traffic which makes walking difficult sometimes. It’s also dirtier and not as naturey. I don’t mind being on the east coast for a year or more. There’s so many places I haven’t been to and the plane ride to Europe is so short from there!

I tend to have this thought right when I come back, and then start settling in again and getting comfortable haha. So let’s see where 2020 takes us.