#it's okay wawa would never mind

[pawsandsuch-office]

This definetly was not in the job description

[halcyon-digest]

2018

Art Klaudt: Walking around Glasgow during a snowstorm listening to the Units

Anonymous 1: became vegan

ava: in the summer, joining a network of music-related discord servers for the first time and meeting a bunch of people, many of whom are now my best friends. feeling like i had truly found “my people” for the first time in my entire life, feeling like the music world had opened up to me as i was exposed to so much more stuff than i ever had been before. me and my friends listened to a different album together every night, sharing our favorites and bonding in a way i had never experienced. a lot of complicated stuff would end up happening down the road but this summer was just pure unadulterated joy and wonder

kate: My phone reminds me of this often because for some reason it's the only thing I ever put into iCloud and it got copied onto my new phone while everything else I ever took pictures of I've manually moved onto my computer. But anyways my partner and I went to Cape Verde to visit an old couple he's friends with who are kind of like his surrogate parents. I tried learning Portuguese, and some of the Portuguese creole they speak there but didn't get very far and ended up never using it. We stayed on Mindelo, and in my mind the whole time I was fantasizing that I was in the Abarat, a book series I liked as a kid that centers on an archipelago where each island represents an hour of the day. I remember being most struck by the buildings there, which are old and colorful and gorgeous. Stray dogs roam everywhere, and there was a gas station down the road where you could get a coffee (espresso) and a ham toasty for a dollar each. Truly ideal. Also everyone drinks grog. We visited the top of a mountain, and there was a grog stand up there. And we had shots of grog. At 10am. On top of a mountain.

Anonymous 2: the directionlessness that comes with graduating high school and suddenly being told you are an adult. i have a particular recollection of standing in a wawa and looking at the cigarettes behind the counter. i couldnt buy them because the prior year my state had raised the age from 18 to 21 but it made me think about what it means to be an adult

Lucas: I remember my route home from school on bike

Anonymous 3: Lying down on a banquette in the strange public area of my university that was completely encased in a plastic membrane, making it unbearably hot and stuffy, lying with my cheek against the rough grey fabric of the banquette, smelling its smell, looking across at the other banquette opposite, feeling unbearably hot and stuffy and sleepy, just woken up from a nap, and listening to "Ravens" from "A Crow Looked at Me" while seagulls walked around on the plastic membrane above me.

Anonymous 4: Tearing my ACL and my battle with depression

Anonymous 5: A haze

superswag: incel ohase

v0w0v: Dancing at the only strip club in town, freshly 18, freshly moved to a new city for school. The people there were all old and strange. I thought I was getting ahead of them, tricking them in some way. One night one of the bouncers invited me over to hang out at their house after a shift. At a certain point in the night,  child came downstairs, and asked "What's going on?". Was hit with the terrible realization that the person I had the most in common with in the room was this child. A bouncer named "T-Bone" called me an Uber back to the dorms.

Anonymous 6: Getting an email from the person who made a video game I cared a lot about at the time.

Anonymous 7: marxism.

binnie: ... engaging in a not too distant LDR and not long after meeting this girl in person and spending a week together.. and ... feeling like things were gonna be okay for me actually ...

Anonymous 8: Two of my friends drowning to death and isolating myself

April M. Mildew: It is autumn. I am on the back porch. I am sending my friends a picture I drew of my fursona. She is a girl now. I will go inside and try to fall asleep on an air mattress next to my dad. He does not want the TV to be turned off. It is loud. I have school in the morning. I have formed an association in my head between this new place I have moved to and the album Congratulations by MGMT.

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 18: presents

Character A and Character B save Christmas,, percabeth

Percy has never felt as much horror as he does right now. He’s staring at the back of his closet, in complete terror, his heart dropping to the floor. He can’t breathe or hear or see because there’s supposed to be ten presents and he counts nine.

There was a doll missing. An expensive, eating, talking doll that was all his daughter wanted in life. He swears that he had gotten his daughter the present she wanted most, except apparently, he didn’t because it’s not there.

He tries to think about what to do, but the reality of the situation is he really can’t do anything. He’s pretty sure every four-year-old girl on this planet wanted the doll he thought he had sitting in the closet for Christmas. There’s approximately zero chance he’s going to be able to get his hands on it only five days before Christmas, so. He’s screwed.

Percy thinks he has to at least try anyways. He’d nearly ruined Christmas last year because he hadn’t known how to wrap presents, and his neighbor had to help him at three in the morning, which was embarrassing to say the least. He’s determined to not fail that badly this year, and that’s exactly why he’s standing back outside that same neighbor’s door after dropping his daughter off at school.

“I need help,” is the first thing he says when the door swings open.

“Good morning to you too,” Annabeth says.

“I messed up,” he breathes, but he steps forwards to plant a quick kiss on her lips. “I need your help. Desperately.”

“What did you do?”

“You know that doll that my kid’s been talking about for months?”

“The one I have sitting in the back of my car for mine, I’m sure.”

He pauses. “You have one?!”

“You don’t?”

He whines, “I thought I did but turns out I completely forgot to get it.”

She laughs in his face.

“This isn’t funny. This is a Christmas crisis.”

“Yeah. You fucked up.”

“You’re my girlfriend. Aren’t you supposed to help me?”

“Five days before Christmas?” She snorts. “Good luck.”

Percy runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated. “Our girls are at school, so I need you to go shopping with me.”

“What good am I going to be for a doll that you’re going to have to murder someone to get your hands on it?” “Well, you tend to murder people with your eyes. It used to be scary, but now it’s useful.”

“Your master plan is to unleash me in a store so I can commit homicide over a toy?”

“I don’t care what you do as long as we get that doll, so come on.” He waves his keys in her face. “Get in the car.”

She gives him a humored look and opens her door wider. “Come in. I’m going to need a minute.”

Annabeth actually ends up needing twenty minutes, something he helpfully reminds her of as she’s getting dressed. His rush definitely doesn’t stop him from enjoying the view, but the shirt that she throws at his face does.

By the time they’re finally out of the house, they are on a mission. Annabeth’s sitting in the passenger seat of the car, and as Percy rightfully predicted, she is out for blood. Her phone is in her hand as she switches from app to app in search of anyone who has the toy.

Percy’s hand grips the steering wheel tightly. Driving in New York in December is not something he’s ever enjoyed doing with the way people drive like animals, but Christmas is in the line, and he too has turned into an animal.

“Any luck?” he asks hopefully, drifting down the highway.

“A store an hour away says they have it in stock,” she says. “Only one left, so drive fast.”

“Make that twenty minutes,” he says, and then he’s stepping on the gas. It’s a lot of switching in and out of lanes because people don’t understand that he has places to be. Every two seconds, Annabeth screaming out a status update, which has startled him enough to almost crash at least twice.

“It’s still in stock!”

“Yes, thank you babe, because I was sure that it had been sold within the last thirty seconds.”

Annabeth mutters something under his breath, but there’s a faint smile on his face. Despite being as stressed as he is that he’s failed as a father for the second year in a row, he surely loves spending time with her like this. She’s such a cutthroat person, and it warms his heart.

“Oh, someone bought it.”

Percy groans. “Of course they did.”

“Keep driving this way. There’s a store thirty minutes ahead that might have it.” Another beat passes. “Never mind.”

“She’s going to hate me,” he says.

“Probably. Even I know it’s the one thing she wanted more than anything.”

“Way to rub it in.”

“I do it because I love you.”

He feels pretty upset, but the words raise his mood instantly. If his daughter disowns him, at least he has the love of his life to help him through it. “I love you too, even though you like to tease me.” “Just keeping you on your toes.” She shifts in the seat and points further down the road. “Take this exit. We’re going to do this old fashioned.”

He listens. “Old fashioned?”

She grins. “We’re going to a toy store.”

The second they walk in, Percy feels like sneezing. It’s a bit dustier than he would like, and the lightest isn’t the best, but there aren’t many people there, so he thinks he at least has a chance of finding the toy. Annabeth slides her hand into his as they stroll around, and he pulls her closer into his side. He tries to keep his eyes looking for the toy, but he quickly learns that it wasn’t going to help. The toys here didn’t seem to be the most up-to-date, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s come to terms that that toy is just not happening. He’ll probably end up compensating for it with an overload of different toys, so he uses this time instead to enjoy time alone with Annabeth. They’re usually with their kids whenever they’re together, and their girls have quickly become best friends (much to his delight — he thinks he might want to marry Annabeth), so it’s nice to be alone outside of the house.

Not that he minds being inside the house alone either, if you know what he means. He thinks there should be a healthy balance.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly, bumping his shoulder. He shrugs. “Just disappointed. She was so excited for it.”

“Let’s go try another place then,” she says, turning in his arms. He instinctively wraps his arms around her waist, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“Let’s just go home and snuggle instead,” he says. “I don’t think we’re going to be finding that toy anytime soon.”

“I don’t mind snuggles,” she tells him, smiling. “But let’s try one more place, yeah? Or we can get something to eat?”

It’s not until she mentions food that he realizes how hungry he really is. He doesn’t remember eating at all that day, too in a rush in the morning, and the afternoon being no different. He kisses her softly again. “Let’s go on a Christmas lunch date.”

That Christmas lunch date ends up being in the front seats of his car, but he’s not picky. They’re in the parking lot of wawa, Annabeth with mac n cheese in her hands, and Percy with a cheeseburger. As she eats, Percy keeps his eyes on her. Everything she does is so cute, including eating, and he doesn’t know if it’s normal to feel this way about someone. Her cheeks are still hinted pink from when they’d been outside ten minutes prior, and she’s still wearing a knitted hat. She looks so warm that he desperately wants to pull her onto his lap and just hold her.

“What are you looking at?” she asks, spoon hovering in front of her mouth.

Percy smiles at her fondly. “You.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you,” he says. “And you’re so pretty all the time.”

“All the time?”

“All the time,” he confirms, setting his food aside so he can lean towards her, nuzzling his face in her neck. He kisses the soft skin twice. “When you wake up, and when you fall asleep, you’re always so perfect.”

“You watch me sleep?” she teases.

“Sometimes,” he admits. “You don’t stay over every night. Otherwise, I would cuddle you to sleep every day.”

“Sounds dreamy.”

“It would be.” He pulls his head off of her so he can look her in the eyes. Overwhelming love stares back at him, and for a moment, he cannot think of anything except her. She’s so beautiful and perfect, and it’s taken him this long to find her. She’s there for him, and she loves his daughter, and he loves hers. She drops everything to go on a run to save Christmas with him, and he’s in love with her.

He wants to fall asleep to her and wake up to her. Not just sometimes, but every night and every morning. He wants to wake up on Christmas morning to their kids bouncing on their bed to wake their parents up, to share a look with her that screams ‘tired but in love’ with each other and the life they’ve created.

“Move in with me,” he blurts out.

Annabeth laughs. “What?”

“I’m serious,” he says, sitting up straighter. “Let’s move in together. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of our lives together, and… I want to marry you someday.”

She blinks, and he feels panic take over for a second before she smiles again, teeth sparkling and white. “Percy… are you being serious?” He laughs. “I am.”

“You want to move in with me?”

“I do.”

Annabeth stares at him for a second, unmoving, before she’s rushing forwards, pressing her lips to his. He responds enthusiastically, his heart fluttering, having him feel lightheaded in the best way possible. “Let’s move in together,” she mutters against him, and Percy can’t stop smiling. Teeth clash, but he can’t find it in him to quell the grin.

He’s pretty sure people are walking by outside the car wondering why they’re practically making out in the car, but they stay like that anyways until they can no longer breathe.

“I love you,” he says. “Thank you for trying to help me save Christmas.”

“Help you save Christmas?”

“Mission objective failed. There’s going to be no doll under that tree.”

“Okay, so…” Annabeth’s tongue presses out slightly between her lips as she bites down to smother a smile. “What if I told you that I actually have two of them?”

“I’m sorry. You what?”

“I had a feeling you might forget, so I just got two of them.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know I’m a god.”

“I can’t believe you let me drive around the city for hours for no reason!”

“It wasn’t for no reason! I wanted to spend time with you!”

“We could have spent time together doing something more romantic than panicked Christmas shopping!”

“I didn’t want to do something else,” she says. “This was perfect. More realistic.”

“You’re a little tease, you know that?”

She pokes his cheek, and he nips lightly at her finger. “Yeah, but you still want to move in with me anyways.”

“Now that you’re going to give me the present that saves Christmas? How could I not?”

She leans across the center console so she can kiss him properly. “You could always just marry me instead.”

“The thing is I’m actually considering it,” he says playfully, though he’s telling the truth. “I could get down on one knee right now.”

She grins and kisses him again. “Next Christmas,” she says, sounding a lot like a promise. He doesn’t mind waiting until next Christmas. He has everything he needs right here in front of him. “Next Christmas, I’m going to make you my wife.”

Annabeth’s fingers run through his hair and pull him in closer. “I’ll be waiting,” she says, and Percy just knows they’re going to live an amazing life together.

The person he fell in love with is the person that helped him save Christmas, and he doesn’t mind one bit.

[luxekook]

chapter two.

⇥ pairing: namjoon x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, chaotic namjoon, power tools, hints of poly relationships, overall pretty smut free (who AM i???)

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter Two

Habitat for Humanity Worksite – 9:26am

When I signed up to volunteer Saturday morning of syllabus week, I should have known I would end up regretting it. I almost punted my alarm clock out of the apartment window this morning, but instead settled a slightly more civil action – punching the shit out of the ‘off’ button.

Don’t get me wrong: I love volunteering. It’s been part of my routine since sophomore year when I was recruited for the all-women’s service society on campus – the Alphites. As a society, us Alphites volunteer around campus and in our local community each week. There’s something about doing service together that really creates bonds, and the girls in the society have quickly become some of my closest friends.

We sign up to volunteer for a variety of different service projects each week, and Habitat is my current favorite project to sign up for. As a nonprofit organization, Habitat for Humanity helps families build and improve places to call home. Currently, our regional Habitat is working on building a house from the ground up for a local family in need.

Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form a very ‘handy’ person. Luckily for me, there are always a couple volunteers with construction or engineering backgrounds who are willing to teach other volunteers with less experience – or none, like me.

Since beginning to volunteer at the site last year, I have learned how to use a power saw, how to fasten siding, and how to mix, pour and level cement. It’s definitely empowering to learn new skills and also to see how my handiwork contributes to someone’s future home. I also feel lowkey badass when I get to use the power drill for anything.

Pulling up to the worksite, I clutch my cherished 24oz. Wawa coffee. I finally feel somewhat human as I park my beat-up Jeep Wrangler and hop out to meet the other volunteers for our task assignments.

The site leader Eddie – a burly retiree with a background in construction management – greets me with a huge grin, “(y/n)-doll, we missed you this summer! I can’t believe you abandoned us during the hottest months of the year.”

I roll my eyes, smiling at his teasing. Eddie’s like a teddy bear disguised as a grizzly – all rough edges and a heart of gold. “Missed you, too, Eddie.”

“Look at our progress now,” he continues, “Pretty impressive, yeah?” Nodding, I greet some regular volunteers I recognize as Eddie leads me around the house. He proceeds to show me what they had done over the summer in my absence – and they had done a lot. The house now had its full foundation and wooden framing with most of the doors and windows installed.

As we walk back to the front of the house to the main area, I sip my coffee and turn to Eddie, “So, what can I work on today, fearless leader?”

Letting out a patented ‘Eddie belly-laugh’, he replies, “I know you worked on the siding at our last site so I'm gonna have you work on where we started the siding on the right side of the house.”

Sweet, I could work with that. “Aye, aye, captain,” I respond with a lazy salute of my coffee cup. Before I can turn to start towards the scaffolding to begin, Eddie stops me.

“Oh, one more thing. I’m gonna need you to orient our new volunteer and let him shadow you today. Kid’s from the same school as you, I think… Mandatory service. Anyway, he should be here any minute.”

Shit, I know what ‘mandatory service’ means. It’s the first form of disciplinary action that the college issues and is usually the only form of disciplinary action for our athletes or for Greek life – a fact I actively resent. During my time in the Alphites, I have had to deal with some of these ‘mandatory service’ characters and they’ve never been much fun to be around.

“Ah, that’s probably him now,” Eddie startles me out of my thoughts of dread and doom as a black gleaming Tesla practically purrs down the block, swinging into the spot next to my Wrangler. Scowling, I cross my arms as I survey the stark contrast between this person’s shiny-ass luxury car and my dirty-ass well-loved Jeep.

The Tesla door opens. A Timberland booted foot emerges followed by a thick leg encased in light jeans, a tanned well-muscled arm…

No. Nope, it couldn’t be— Please, not today, Satan.

He stands with his back to us now, stretching out his large body. In only a cutoff t-shirt, his rippling back muscles might be enough to send me into an early grave.

I sigh in bitter defeat of the inevitable. Seriously, the fucking universe must have it out for me because I can’t seem to shake this stupid fucking fraternity.

As if the boy feels my eyes on him, he turns. His eyes immediately clash with mine as he slams his car door, clicking the lock over his shoulder. Those eyes – golden brown beneath dark brows and a wave of bleached blonde hair. Their focus is absolute – hard – as he strolls towards us. It’s almost as if he knows the maddening effect that he has on me.

I think Eddie is speaking, but my senses are on lockdown, his words muted. My thighs tighten as my pulse picks up. Get a fucking grip, (y/n). I can’t let him know that just one look from him has me thirsty and oxygen-deprived. I can’t look away – that would be succumbing to weakness.

Instead, I hold his heated gaze as best I can as his confident gait brings him closer. God, he’s got to be at least 6 foot...

The goddamn president of BTS Kim Namjoon is getting closer and I can’t help running my eyes over him.

His thighs flex and shift beneath his jeans with every calculated step. His abs are apparent under his tight cutoff shirt emblazoned with his fraternity letters.

Namjoon stops in front of us, hands stuffed into his back pockets, biceps flexing. “Nice to finally meet you, Eddie,” Namjoon takes his eyes off me long enough to greet Eddie and shake his hand, but then they’re right back on me, “Hi, (y/n).”

He drags out my name in a such a sinful way that even old Eddie does a slight doubletake. Clearing his throat unnecessarily loudly, Eddie booms, “You two know each other?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Our differing replies sound at the same time.

“Yes,” Namjoon repeats, lips turning up in an infuriating smile, “We have several mutual friends that she’s met a couple times now. Want me to jog your memory? I’d be more than happy to do so.”

Eddie takes one look at my face and hustles off, mumbling something about support beams. I guess my inner thoughts of ‘kill, maim, slaughter’ could easily be read from my facial expression.

Namjoon opens his mouth to speak again, but I’m faster, “Listen, Kim, I don’t know who you think you are, and, quite frankly, I don’t care. What I do care about is this house and these people working on it. Don’t fuck this up for me, okay? Let’s just get through today and then you can go back to ordering around your brothers and causing general mayhem.”

I’m feeling pretty proud of my little soliloquy until I realize he’s still smiling with those blasted dimples out in full display. No, his smile has grown even wider now as he simply answers, “The semester.”

My nose crinkles in confusion, “What?”

“The semester,” he repeats, “I’m assigned here every Saturday for the rest of the semester.”

I stare at him.

He smirks back.

I stare.

His smirk begins to fade, “Uh, did you hear me?”

I stare.

“Okay, you’re creeping me out now, (y/n),” Namjoon waves his giant paw of a hand in front of my face, “How many fingers?”

I break out of my trance of denial and hiss, “What did you do? Double homicide? Serial arson? Oh my god, you were the one who blew up the science lab!”

His hand covers my mouth – it’s rough and warm and entirely disarming.

“You have quite the imagination, jagi. I’ll keep that in mind,” Namjoon chuckles, “To answer your question, I did none of the above. Now, answer a couple questions of mine: what did you do to get here and – more importantly – why did you distract Jungkook from doing his fucking job on Monday?”

I glare in response, waiting for him to remove his hand from my mouth. He takes too long, and I lick his palm. It works. He removes his hand, but from the look on his face it seems like he liked my tongue on his skin entirely too much.

Thankfully, Eddie chooses the perfect moment to yell across the site, “What are you doing just standing there, (y/n)-doll? I don’t pay you to just loiter around all day!”

“You don’t pay me at all!” I yell back, already moving towards the trailer with all the supplies to get started. Namjoon follows.

“(y/n)-doll?” his eyebrows are raised as I hand him a pair of the biggest gloves I could find, “What’s up with that?”

Taking a pair of smaller gloves for myself, I turn to look for some hammers and nails as I respond, “I’ve been here a while. He’s like my honorary grandfather at this point.”

I spot the hammers and nails tucked away on the highest corner shelf and I huff. Namjoon follows my gaze, “Need a strong, intelligent, tall young man to grab those for you?”

He’s impossible, but for some reason it draws a small smile to my face, “Yes, that’d be great.”

The smile I receive in response is so bright I wonder if it could make flowers grow, “Okay, but only if answer my questions, (y/n).”

I shrug, trying not to notice how his cutoff shirt rises as he stretches to reach the upper shelf. I catch a sudden glimpse of his abs, and I praise every god out there that hot weather can be blamed for my sudden onset of sweat. 

Clearing my throat, I laugh lightly, “Fine, first of all, I didn’t ‘distract’ Jeon. I just had a temporary lapse in judgement. Besides, he came to me all on his own.” His back muscles tense up at my words, but I continue, “And second of all, there’s no juicy story of how I got here. I just volunteer here every Saturday for the Alphites.”

The sound of a hammer hitting the floor startles me as he whirls around, “You’re an Alphite?”

Namjoon’s tone is one of disbelief and it’s a tone I do not appreciate, “Yes, why is that so hard to believe?” My arms cross defensively, “I’ve been a sister since my sophomore year...”

I trail off. He’s still gawking at me ridiculously. Narrowing my eyes, I stride across the trailer and grab his chin, closing his mouth for him, “Watch out, Kim, you’re gonna catch flies.”

Spinning on my heels, I sashay out of the trailer, nose held high in the air and satisfaction held even higher. He’ll catch up. After all, he’s basically supposed to be my bitch today.

I climb up the scaffolding next to the house’s right side and assess the siding work that has already been started. It looks pretty solid and level. I should have no issue with continuing without having to make any initial corrections.

The sound of a bucket of nails hitting the top platform I’m sitting on alerts me of Namjoon’s impending presence. Saving the bucket from teetering over the edge – a safety hazard for sure – I watch amusedly as Namjoon struggles stay upright and climb up to where I am on the scaffolding. Finally, he plops down next to me – entirely too close. I can feel his stare on my skin as I steadfastly ignore him.

“Hey, jagi,” he pokes my arm, “(y/n), listen, you just caught me off guard. I mean, you don’t seem like the type to be an Alphite – that’s all.”

Fury curls up inside me for the umpteenth time that morning, as I turn to face Namjoon with a sickly-sweet smile that has him flinching back, “Then do tell, Namjoon, what type I seem to be?”

I pick up the hammer closest to me and dip a hand into the nail bucket. The sooner this siding got done, the sooner I could haul ass out of here.

“I feel like that’s a trick question,” Namjoon sighs, rubbing a hand over his chin, “I didn’t mean anything bad by it, okay? I guess I just have always thought that your society was a bunch of mom-types—”

I cut him off with a swing of my hammer in the air, “What’s wrong with mom-types, you uncultured swine? And is serving your community really such a ‘mom’ thing to do? I’m sorry. I must have missed that memo. Here I was thinking that it was public service but go off I guess.”

He blinks, “Did you just call me an ‘uncultured swine’?”

I sniff in indignation, “Get with the times, Kim. I just roasted your ass. Now hand me that piece of siding and make yourself useful.”

“You’re so weird,” Namjoon mutters, sliding my request over to me.

“So what?” I shrug, “All the best people are weird. Now, do me a solid and explain to me why you and your ‘brothers’ keep suspiciously popping up everywhere I go.”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he grins, “We’re interested.”

“What does that even mean? That you’re interested?” I wrack my brain, “As in all seven of you fuckers?”

“It means, jagi,” Namjoon pauses, leaning closer, “It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”

a/n: i love namjoon. that is all. 

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[emberphantom]

Oh hell. Yes.

Dennis would have his big bisexual homoromantic freak out at the Wawa like

“I am NOT GAY. Jesus Christ, I slept with Mac ONE TIME. Okay? And that’s DIFFERENT, it’s not a gay or straight thing, it’s a MAC thing. I happen to like women, I like women a LOT, I like their big round butts, and may I ask you, WHO DOESN’T? But people like YOU are never going to- you’re never going to UNDERSTAND that. And that what I call NARROW-MINDED, and quite frankly, downright offensive.”

“...I asked you how you’d like to PAY.”

“Pay? Oh, PAY? Cash, please.”

BRO I AM CRYING.

The poor cashier's just like dude I don't know any of these people I just want to go on break pls.

Dennis buy some self awareness, God.

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 25

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Word Count: 4071

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CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

There was no use in dwelling over Harry right now. It seemed silly to even want to cry, considering Paul, who was seated across from her, was literally fighting for his life. Who was she to cry over a boy that had no interest in dating her? Her problems seemed minuscule to the real tragedies happening all around her. The four of them finished up dinner and when they had finished, Carol whisked their dishes away to wash.

“I should get Zoey over to her mom’s to change now so I can get to the bar in time,” Michael called, standing up, “We’ll meet you there later?”

“Yeah, go on. We’ll see you there,” Paul nodded from his seat at the table.

Being alone with Michael wasn’t as awkward as she thought it’d be. His old, beat-up red car, which usually reeked of stale cigarettes, now only had a lingering scent that was hidden behind the sweet smell of moonlight breeze Gain car fresheners. He explained to her how he’d quit smoking a month ago and it was going well. The twenty-minute conversation to her parents’ house didn’t seem forced like she expected it to be. And he hadn’t once made a pass at her. Maybe he finally moved on.

When she led him into the landing of her parents’ house, her mom’s voice rang out, “Zoey? Is that you?”

“Yeah, I’ve got Mikey with me!” she called back, urging him on.

She could hear her mom’s voice sing his name from the other room and they both shared a look, knowing that Michael was about to be trapped in the endless tirades of Mary. Zoey giggled watching him drag his feet in the directions of the living room, leaving her to go change.

“Hurry,” he quietly urged before he rounded the corner.

She had managed to take up her luggage that morning, so she made her way towards the bedroom, noticing Katie’s bed neatly made and the lights still off. Her car was in the driveway when they arrived, so she must be in the living room with her mom. 

Rummaging through her suitcase, Zoey grew more frustrated, feeling silly. All of her clothes were new and were geared more towards her life in LA. Her wardrobe had changed along with her personality and she felt like if she walked downstairs wearing any of these clothes Michael would see right through her and think that she was an imposter.

She had no choice. She didn’t fit into Katie’s clothes and there was no time to go shopping. With a sigh, she slipped into a straight, spaghetti-strapped, white dress and paired it with white sneakers and a jean jacket to make it look more casual. She ran her fingers through her dirty blonde hair, looking at herself in the reflection of Katie’s mirror, finally embracing her new look. This was her. It took years to feel comfortable in her own skin and she wasn’t going to let her insecurities ruin that.

Zoey bounced down the stairs and towards the living room where, sure enough, Katie sat beside Michael, both listening to Mary blabber on about how sorry she was to hear the news of Michael’s dad and the trauma he and Zoey have experienced already. Zoey would have felt embarrassed for her mother’s constant and unwanted reminders, but Michael was used to it having had Mary in his life for five years now. He knew she meant no harm from it and had grown enough thick skin by this point to not pay it any mind.

“I’m ready,” Zoey announced, walking into the room.

“Where are you going?” Katie asked curiously.

Michael stood up, “I have a show tonight at Slyfox. You can join us if you want.”

Before Katie could respond, Mary interrupted, chuckling slightly, “No, Katie’s too young to go.”

“But I’m eighteen! And Zoey will be there!” Katie countered, eyes pleading, but to no avail. Her mom wouldn’t budge.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Michael roughed up Katie’s hair, “maybe next time.”

Zoey always appreciated how Michael treated her younger sister and tried to include her in things, even though it usually got shot down by her parents. Zoey had tried talking to her mom about loosening the reins on Katie a little bit, but the conversation clearly hadn’t done much. At least she started college soon. Her freedom was only weeks away.

“You nervous to see your old coworkers?” Michael asked as they loaded back into the car.

Zoey, shrugged, “A little. But I miss them.”

“Well, the guys are excited to see you,” he said, mentioning his bandmates, “I think Dan is bringing Becky, so you’ll get to see her, too.”

Zoey smiled. Becky was Dan’s girlfriend. The two of them have been dating since right around the time she and Michael first got together. Becky was a sweet girl, but shy like her sister. The two of them had gotten along really well, hanging out during their band rehearsals and attending their little shows together. Zoey liked to think that she had helped Becky come out of her shell in the beginning. 

“Listen,” Michael started, his tone a little hesitant as he scratched the back of his head, “I think I should warn you, in case you hear it from any of the guys, but, uh...I’m kinda seeing someone.”

“Oh?”

She had been anticipating this conversation. She knew the day would come where Michael would have moved on and started dating again, but honestly, it threw her off guard. She was happy for him, don’t get her wrong, but there would always be a part of her that still loved Michael. They had been through a lot together for nearly five years and she was so close to his family. There were so many plans and expectations within their relationship that they never got to carry out. They had talked about kids and marriage and buying a house together, and it ended before either of them could accomplish any of it. She wasn’t hurt. She’s the one that ended things, after all. And she didn’t regret that decision, either. But it still left her a little sad. It was the ending of an era.

Michael rushed to explain himself, his tone still the same. She could tell he was trying to ease into it, afraid of hurting her feelings, “It’s nothing serious, yet. But, yeah, I just thought you should know.”

Zoey turned to look at him, grinning understandingly, “I’m happy for you. You deserve it.”

Michael smiled back, nodding. She could see the relief wash over him as his shoulders relaxed. It’s weird - being back in this car with him. There were so many memories involving this car. A stain on the upholstery of her seat from when she accidentally spilled hot chocolate after a spontaneous midnight Wawa run. Warn out stereo buttons from the endless song skipping they did on their long road trips to the Poconos. A dent in the dash from when she had kicked it a little too hard in an attempt to get to the back seat. The number of times they had car sex in the back was, admittedly, a bit ridiculous. 

It started pretty early on at the beginning of their relationship. They met at the Slyfox. His band was playing a gig while she bartended. His friends dared him to ask her for her phone number, typical young kid shit. Then it turned into them sneaking away during break to have sex in his car. She’d always come back in, hair disheveled, trying her best to act nonchalant. She had an inkling everyone knew what she was doing, but no one said anything. Not like Andy would. Andy had no problem calling her out.

They had their fair share of fun during their relationship, that’s for sure. And Jess liked him, which only furthered her appeal for him. Jess, as kind and personable as she was, was very protective over Zoey and the men she dated. Having fun was one thing, but if you were going to make it official, it better be a good guy. It wasn’t often that Jess approved of the guys she dated. It could have been why Zoey held onto her relationship for so long. She always had a feeling that she was destined for something, or someone, else. But Jess liked her and Zoey loved his family, so why bother ruining that on a nagging hunch? 

She knew now that she was right. They were destined for something else. It was proof enough that she needed to listen to her instincts more. Which is why she tried so hard to listen to her instincts when trying to cut things off with Harry. Ever heard of the saying ‘If you care about something, let it go. If it returns, it was meant to be?’ It wasn’t a test for Harry. He didn’t get brownie points if he shot her a random text saying ‘Sorry. Let’s date.’ But, to her, there was some sort of truth in the statement. She knew how much she cared about Harry, romantically, and platonically. Harry was, in every literal sense of the word, her soulmate. She knew it to be true very early on in their relationship. 

Zoey honestly believed that this hiccup that was happening between them wouldn’t last forever. Things may not end up the way she wanted; she might not ever get the chance to be with him on an intimate level again. And she was okay with that if it meant just having him in his life. But he needed to be ready. Emotionally, he still didn’t know who he was or what he wanted to become. He needed to figure that out himself. She had no doubt in her mind that he would return to her one day. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not a year from now. Maybe not even ten years from now. But one day, he’d be back. She had to believe that. She needed to believe that. Otherwise, she just made the biggest mistake of her life.

Pulling up to the bar filled her with the biggest sense of nostalgia. When they walked through the door and the aroma of liquor and greasy food hit her, a smile instantly formed on her face. Everything still looked the same as it did the day she left. Lighting so dim that it took a minute to adjust, old tables and chairs scattered throughout the building, a poorly wiped down bartop with early 2000’s hits playing loudly over the speaker, patrons scattered around loudly yapping at each other. She saw the wall of framed pictures with workers and various ‘famous’ people, who weren’t all that famous to begin with, but noticeable enough. She noticed one framed picture that stood out from the rest. It wasn’t quite in the center, but close to it. A framed picture of Jess smiling and holding up a bottle of beer with light-up necklaces and gaudy party hats amongst the rest of their coworkers, Zoey standing right beside her, with an edited banner at the bottom that read ‘Jessica Lewis. Rest In Peace.’. 

Zoey remembered the day that picture was taken. It was New Years a few months before Jess died. Their boss had gathered everyone together to take a picture for their Facebook page to advertise discounted drinks. Jess was in the center because of course she was. Everyone loved him. 

“Zoey?” she heard the familiar booming voice of Dan, Michael’s friend, and the singer of their band. She turned and smiled seeing him and the rest of the guys in the band walking towards her. “Holy shit, I almost didn’t recognize you with your hair down. How have you been? You look hot!” 

Zoey laughed, giving him and the rest of the boys hugs. Dan was always very blunt, as were the rest of the guys. Before she could respond, Zach, the drummer, joked, “Not here to waste your time on this loser again, are you?” he backhanded Michael on the chest with a smirk.

“Absolutely not,” she laughed, bantering, “I live in LA now. I’ve got a city full of D-list celebrities at my disposal.”

Suddenly, she heard a screeching echo from behind the bar and turned to see her old coworker, Riley, jumping over, “Shut the fuck up! Zoey? What the hell are you doing back here?” She ran, practically tackling Zoey into the wall with such force that a framed fire exit picture came crashing to the ground. Riley paid it no mind, however, as she was too busy admiring Zoey’s hair and outfit. “Fuck! What’s in the LA water? You look so good!”

After seeing the commotion that Riley caused, more of her old coworkers had realized who had come in and they all started running over to greet her, welcoming her back with warm hugs and compliments. Michael and the guys had excused themselves to finish setting up while Zoey made her way over to the bar so that she could continue talking to her friends while they worked, laughing, and exchanging old stories while they caught her up on what’s been going on at the bar.

She felt a presence standing behind her and she turned to see Becky, a nervous grin on her face. Zoey’s eyes lit up and she stood to pull her into a hug, “Becky, I missed you!” 

“I missed you, too,” she muttered, smiling wider. “I was wondering when you’d come back to visit. Wish it was on better terms, though. I’m sure Paul was happy to see you.”

Zoey nodded solemnly, “It’s hard to believe it’s real, you know?”

“I know, he’s a good man.”

It didn’t take long for the boys to finish up their tuning before they were finally introduced and began playing. Monday nights were always live-music nights at Slyfox in an attempt to draw in more business. And it worked pretty well. The first half of the night was always slower, but the crowds usually started pouring in around 9 PM and you could always be sure to see the same groups of people coming in. 

Eventually, Michael’s parents had gotten there. They always did their best to attend any performance of their son’s, always having been supportive of his hobby of music. They knew all of the songs, singing and dancing along. Zoey always admired their parenting and knew that if she were ever given the chance to be a mother, she would want to be just like them. 

Listening to the band play brought Zoey back even more. She felt like she was reliving her memories at this point. The only reason she wasn’t entirely warped into this false sense of reality was because Jess wasn’t there. It just didn’t feel right being here without her. The familiar chords of a slower song began playing. It was a song that Michael had written about Zoey in their first year of dating, and to this day was still one of the favorites amongst the crowd. It wasn’t cheesy or too romantic; just about seeing a pretty girl from across the bar. But it was a tradition for Paul to dance with Zoey to this song.

Instinctively, the two turned to look at each other and Carol smiled, knowingly, as Paul struggled for a split second to stand up, “I’ve got to dance with my girl,” he grinned, holding a hand out for her.

Zoey grinned, taking his hand as he led her a few feet away at the edge of the crowd of people before she turned and put a hand gently on her waist while the other continued to hold onto her hand. Paul was a tall man, towering over her a good eight inches. She rested her head on his chest, bonier than she remembered it being. But it eased her tension to hear his heart beating strongly in his chest. She thought, for a moment, maybe it wasn’t true. Maybe he wasn’t dying. A man this good and this kind couldn’t be taken from them. But she felt his weight beginning to bear down on her, becoming too tired to stand for much longer. She felt angry and upset. Why was this happening? It wasn’t fair. 

“You alright?” she whispered, trying not to sound too concerned.

His voice replied, more strained, but confident, “Yeah, I’ve got a strong dance partner.”

The song ended and Zoey led him back towards his wife who urged him to sit down while Zoey shared a quick look with Michael. He nodded, seeing the worry in her eyes, and she knew that he felt it, too. 

Harry hardly got any sleep that night, and by the next morning, he had practically downed a quart of coffee at his mother’s house for breakfast with her and Gemma, the words from the fight of last night repeating in his head. He analyzed every tone in each word he spoke, infuriating himself. He was better than that. He knew he was. For years he has been handling tough, hard-hitting questions with grace and ease. Why was it that he struggled when it came to his own intimate relationships he got flustered and spoke out of his ass? Almost every single thing he said he didn’t mean. Why was it so hard for him?

Zoey was right. She had never been anything but open and honest with him. There was no reason for him to feel like he couldn’t tell her any of what he was feeling. He didn’t need to worry about hurting her feelings because she was the most understandable person he knew. He was so caught up in being afraid that he was going to lose her, that he pushed her away. What kind of idiot did that make him?

He wanted to call her back or text her, but he didn’t know what to say. An apology seemed pitiful. He couldn’t seem to find the right words to express just how regretful he was. And he still couldn’t figure out everything he was feeling enough to give her an answer to her question. He cared for her so deeply that hearing the silence on the other end of the line just about shattered his heart. And waking up this morning to texts from everyone but her only made it worse. 

He wondered how her night was with Michael. She said that she had no intention of getting back with him, but he still found himself wondering if he had pushed her back into the arms of her ex. He knew how strong of a relationship she had with his family, it was certainly possible. He needed to stop thinking this way. He needed to stop assuming.

“Now, I know you don’t have jetlag,” Harry’s mom, Anne, spoke after placing her cup on the table, noticing Harry’s exhaustion, “Rome is only an hour difference. What’s the matter, darling?”

“You look like you got dumped,” Gemma teased, unknowingly.

The look on Harry’s face must have hit both women at the same time because their eyes widened in realization and they shared a glance before Anne spoke again, more softly, “Is it that Zoey girl?”

“Mom,” Harry warned.

“I didn’t know you two were dating,” Gemma spoke.

“We weren’t.”

“Well did something happen in Italy, then?” his sister pressed. When Harry didn’t answer, her eyebrows raised and a smirk began to form, “It did, didn’t it? I knew you liked her!”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure she hates me now.”

“What happened, dear?” his mom asked, placing a hand on top of his.

Harry sighed, slouching more in his chair, “Do we have to talk about this?”

“Well, maybe we can be of some help,” his mom offered.

Harry hesitated, taking a moment to decide before taking a breath. Why not? “It’s my fault, really. Things happened in Italy and they were great. But then she asked where our relationship was going and I panicked and said I didn’t know and accused her of still wanting to be with her ex-boyfriend because she flew home to visit him.”

“Why is she visiting her ex-boyfriend?” Gemma asked, her face screwed up in judgment.

Harry winced, covering his face with his hands, embarrassed as he explained, “Because she found out his dad is dying of cancer and has three months to live. And she’s extremely close to him.”

The girls gasped. He didn’t need to look up at their faces. He knew that the judgment they had for Zoey a second ago would be shifted onto him. And his intuition was correct as he heard his mom breathe his name in disappointment, “Oh, Harry.” He looked up to see her eyes filled with sadness, almost pleading, “You didn’t.”

He groaned, throwing his head back, “I know. I don’t know why I said it. She’s the one that broke up with him in the first place. I just panicked!”

“Well, why did you panic, you idiot? You obviously like her!” Gemma urged, as though it was the most obvious thing on the planet.

“You know how hard dating is for me!” Harry defended himself, “It’s a lot more complicated than just liking each other.”

“Darling,” Anne spoke so evenly that she made everything sound so simple and plain, “It’s okay to be worried. We know your life isn’t as black and white as most people, and that’s okay. But you remember how it feels to lose a loved one from cancer. Remember Robin and Johannah? Remember how hard that was for you? All she needs is someone who understands and someone who can be there for her. Not the added pressure that you put on her.”

“I know. I messed up,” Harry groaned into his palms, “I don’t know what to do. I really don’t want to lose her. I’m just…I don’t know. My life isn’t easy to keep up with.”

“Do you care about her?” Anne asked.

“Yes.”

“Then don’t you think she can decide if she can keep up with you or not?”

“....yes.”

“Then tell her, you idiot!” Gemma smacked him.

“What if she’s still pissed off at me? What if she doesn’t want anything to do with me?” he stressed.

Anne shot her daughter a look of warning before calmly explaining, “Darling, you both clearly care about each other. She might still be upset, but I doubt she’d be unwilling to talk to you. You don’t have to jump into a relationship if you don’t want to. But you should be honest with yourself and her and have a conversation about what you really want out of it. If you just want her in your life as a friend, then tell her. But if seeing her with someone else is upsetting you that much, then maybe you should give it a try. All I will say on the matter is that you seemed genuinely happy when she was in your life. Just be honest with her. Lay all of your feelings out on the table and go from there.”

Harry took a breath, letting the words his mother said to sink in. He needed time to gather his thoughts. He needed to figure out everything he felt. He looked at his phone to see the time. It was 9 AM in London.

“It’s too early to call her right now,” he said, “It’s only 3 AM.”

“Don’t call her! Go to her!” Gemma threw her hands up.

“Honey, he just flew back home. He can just Facetime her or something.”

“Mom, it’ll be more romantic if he flies to her!” she shot back, turning to Harry, “Just go to her. You said you visited her family before. Do you remember where they lived?”

Harry sat up, intrigued by what his sister was saying, “Y-yeah, I think so. I have her family’s phone number, though. I could always get it.”

“Then go!”

Harry nodded, flustered trying to get up from his seat.

“Not this second, Harry,” Anne reached up to his arm with a laugh, “You can carry out your Romantic Comedy fantasy after breakfast.”

Harry laughed, nervously as the two of the girls he loved most in his life chuckled at him and took a swig of their coffees, nerves rushing through his veins. How could he eat now? He was too anxious.

KEEP READING

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

Taglist for Somebody To You:

@thurhomish​ , @stilljosiegrossie​ , @odetostep​ , @apples2019​ , @stylesmioamore​ , @inyourhaven​

[laffinandlovin-blog]

Days Like This

In anticipation of National Suicide Prevention Week and the fundraising campaign to support it ( @twloha ), I am going to get back to blogging about mental health.  You can click the link to donate or to hear a bit more of my story.  As always, please put your health first.  Today’s post is about a day that is just hard for many reasons and no reason at all.  One of those days, ya just can’t get it together to do much other than shower (which is a win for me).  

It’s days like this when my mind alternates between frantic and blank for hours.  I’ve spent very few of the last 24 hours vertically and I even cancelled therapy, which I NEVER do.   My motivation is low and my anxiety is high.  I haven’t spoken to a single person today other than a quick FaceTime with my sister and niece and nephews.  I don’t usually write about being “in it” when I’m actually “in it” (it being a depressive state, an anxious state, a state of heightened emotions) because I know that most of the time I’m writing from an emotional place and not a logical place.  I have spent the entire day in silence.  No reading, Ted Lasso or Friends, or answered calls.  I just turned music on as I started typing right after taking my anxiety medicine.  I thought maybe the meds would give me the kick in the rear to maybe go get a hoagie at WaWa but maybe that will happen later.

My thoughts and feelings dart from topic to topic like a dog with the zoomies.  I’m frustrated with the professional world but that is not a place I feel comfortable going in my emotional state.  Guilt overcomes me every time that I look over at Linc and see him just laying on the floor by my chair or in bed.  I should be doing more with him like taking him out more (neither of us do well in the heat) and letting him chew sticks in the apartment’s dog park (we haven’t been since the last time we went with Ella).  Loneliness has been trying to knock down the door to my heart and it finally kicked the door in yesterday.  So I did what I usually do when being awake feels too hard: I slept.  I slept from 4pm-8pm, 10:30pm-10:00am, 11am-1pm.  I cry almost every single day, sometimes a few tears, sometimes a stream of them with hiccups and bloodshot eyes.  Crying right now because I checked Hinge for a break and a guy commented on my picture of Lincoln and Ella about how happy they looked and how he wanted to play with them.  I haven’t taken that picture down yet.  I want to remember her before cancer overtook her body, changed the shape of her face, and took her away from me and Lincoln. 

I have not fully grieved Ella’s death.  She was so challenging for me.  She was incredibly affectionate and I am down with close proximity but not all up in my business.  Before I knew she was dying (which I knew in my gut for about 3 weeks as I drove home from work with white knuckles and didn’t remember if I even exhaled the entire 14 minutes home until I heard her tags when she would jump off the couch when she heard the lock open), I began setting timers for 5 minutes where she could invade all of my personal space.  She was teaching me to accept love, to TRUST love.  After years of reflecting on my last relationship with the man I swore my life would be spent with, my trust in this thing called love has been demolished.  I am okay being alone.  I can function and survive and do life.  I’m not okay being lonely.  It’s true that you can not be alone and still feel lonely (I felt that pain for the last 9 months of my relationship- I begged for honesty, I begged for company, I worked on the things I knew were hard to love).  It’s also true that you can be alone and not feel lonely.  I like doing things alone.  I’ve enjoyed the beach with just my one chair more than I have when there was a circle of chairs filled with friends.  I’ve enjoyed watching a movie in a theater by myself.  I like being in a crowd by myself, especially at the airport.  But I also love being surrounded by people around whom I feel emotionally safe.  I’m fully aware that I should not base all romantic love on the first experience that shattered my heart, innocence, and soul.  However, it’s been three years since that relationship ended and any relationships I’ve had since have been impacted by my lack of trust.  I am not sure when I will be able to put those pieces back together, but I do know that they will not look the same and that may be necessary because I am no longer who I was before those parts of me shattered.  

I’m in a season of transition and a season of taking chances.  Neither of those things are comfortable for me.  I play it safe and I’m okay with making a transition but not so keen in the anticipation stage of the transition.

[et-lesailes]

daddy daycare

pairing: steve rogers x reader

themes: fluff

word count: 1800

summary: you and steve certainly have your hands full with having one year old triplet daughters, but it’s a daddy daycare day when you suddenly get called into work last minute. deciding that the avengers can help him out with watching your naughty children, he brings them to the tower for an afternoon of fun and endless cute little giggles.

taglist: @viarogers, @evanstush, @chibi-crazy, @chalamet-evans, @world-of-losers,@songforhema

note: requested by anonymous // let me just say that i LOVE writing daddy!steve (i mean both kinds but especially this one) and i absolutely love babies so this was super fun to write :) my inbox is always open in general but it is ESPECIALLY open to requests like these hehe

** please send an ask if you would like to be added to my taglist of any chris evans related fics!

"You're positive you're going to be okay."

"Babe, yes! We'll be fine!"

"Okay, okay-- wait, you know they get a bar each after they-"

"After they wake up, yes, baby-- I'm their parent too, you know. And I'm a little offended you think I don't know their daily routine by now," your husband commented as he playfully nudged your side, then leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. "Go, the office needs you. I can take it from here, beautiful." You laughed softly and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him, murmuring, "Alright, alright. I know you'll be just fine. Love you."

"Love ya more." He winked and playfully shooed you out the door, waving as you drove off. Turning around to head up the stairs, he peeked into the nursery, a fond smile immediately crossing his lips upon seeing the sight of his three little angels sleeping. Triplets had definitely not been planned for when you and Steve had decided you were ready for a baby, and while it certainly proved to be challenging, he wouldn't have had it any other way. He loved watching his girls show more and more of their unique personalities each and everyday, and he especially loved watching you being a mother-- to him, it was a sexy look on you, and he felt all sorts of both endearment and arousal watching you nurture and love his babies. 

"Feel free to sleep for another couple hours, sweethearts," he whispered playfully, peeking into each crib. "Daddy would like some downtime too, you know."

______________________________

"CHUCK! CHUCK!" 

Steve chuckled as he glanced at the ever talkative Brooklyn in the backseat through his mirror, nodding fondly. "Yeah, Brookie, that's a truck next to us! It's a pretty big one, isn't it?" 

To say the wake up process had been hectic was an understatement; it was difficult diapering and feeding three cranky babies, but they were all happy and smiling now as they bounced in their carseats, three sets of blue eyes all focused outside the window. "BIG CHUCK." Natalia declared seriously, pointing at it in case no one could see it-- the soldier couldn't help but laugh at how cute his children were. "Do you see the truck, Leigh? Do you know what color it is?" He questioned the oldest triplet, but she simply smiled as she gazed out the window; she always took a while to fully wake up after her naps, but Steve had always thought it was adorable. Brooklyn, however, took the opportunity to scream, "BOO!!" in response to his question, making the blond laugh loudly. "Not blue, Brooks, it's actually red. Can you say red?" 

"BOO!!"

"Alright, close enough. Look guys, we're almost there! Are you guys ready to see your aunties and uncles?"

Nat had called for a brief, casual meeting to go over a general state of the union, and considering how much the Avengers team loved the triplets, he figured it would be fun to take them. Besides, he wouldn't mind the extra sets of eyes watching them; three babies were definitely more than a handful, after all. "Weddy! Weddy!" Natalia cried out in excitement, then widened her eyes hopefully. "Toady there?" He chuckled in amusement upon her pronunciation of "Tony"-- she had taken a strong liking to the billionaire since she was practically an infant, and her face would practically light up every time she saw him. "Yes, Uncle Tony will be there. Uncle Tony, Uncle Rhodey, Uncle Sam, Aunt Nat--" He was cut off by an excited, "NAH!!!" shrieking in his direction, and he playfully flinched. "Brookie, ya gotta stop doing that while I'm driving!" he teasingly scolded, and the cheeky little girl looked at him with a giggle, clapping her hands. He could only laugh again, pulling up at the building and getting out of the car, ready to handle three very busy and toddling toddlers. 

______________________________

"Natalia Margaret Rogers, what do you think you're doing?" Sam crossed his arms playfully as he raised an eyebrow at the little girl currently poking at his wings that rested in the corner, having recently been upgraded by Tony. "Well, Sam, she's sitting right over here, because that little scamp over there is actually Brooklyn Marie Rogers." Steve corrected him with amusement, gesturing to Tony holding Natalia on his lap. "Anytime you see one of them being naughty, you can assume it's Brookie." Natasha said with a laugh, coming over and scooping up the curious toddler, kissing her forehead. "Isn't that right, ya little cutie?" 

"You know, I'm having a perfectly good time chilling here with Leigh. She's so calm." Rhodey spoke up from his place at the conference table, playfully bouncing the triplet as he held her. "I bet you never have to use her middle name." Steve glanced towards the two with an amused smile, eyebrow raised. "That's what you think, Rhodey, but she's completely different at home. Isn't that right, Little Miss Leigh Fallon?" The little girl simply looked at Steve with innocent eyes and he scoffed playfully, retorting, "You definitely get that look from your mama, my little Cap." 

"Here, Nat Attack, want another donut?" Tony held out half of the mini powdered donut for her, and she immediately started munching, the white powder spreading all over her lips. "Tony, you know my wife's going to kill me if she knows the amount of sugar you've been feeding my kids." Steve chuckled, and the man smirked in response. "What? I'm just helping make sure you guys have a fun night tonight. I remember all the good times with Morgan on her sugar highs." 

The group continued to laugh and play with the kids for a decent amount of time before Natasha finally cleared her throat. "Alright guys, lets get this show on the road-- with all these parents in the room, I'm sure they're too old to be staying out past 4 PM," she teased, shooting a playful smirk towards Clint, Tony, and Steve. Your husband rolled his eyes amused but turned his chair towards the large monitor, though glancing towards the triplets every few minutes. They seemed content with the crayons Steve had brought for them, coloring on both the paper and the table; he made a mental note to clean that before he left. 

“Wait, guys-- what’s this?” Nat frowned, suddenly zooming in on an image in the news, pulling it up on the screen. “Should we be worried?” Steve immediately leaned in with furrowed brows, inspecting the possible threat showed in the photo; the entire team was so focused, no one noticed little Brooklyn slipping through the crack of the open door, her two sisters dutifully following her. It was only a few minutes later when everyone deemed the image as a false alarm that Steve’s eyes widened, realizing his children weren’t in the room. “Girls?? Girls! Where are you?” he called out, shooting up from his seat. “Damn it.” He ran out of the room, looking to both sides of the hallway as Nat quickly came out behind him. “There’s no way they could have gotten far, they just learned how to walk a few months ago. I’ll go left, you go right.” She assured him, even chuckling softly finding the situation quite amusing. Nodding his head, he turned to the right side of the hallway, peeking into every room. “Leigh! Brookie! Natalia, come on guys! I’ll buy you guys chocolate chip cookies if you come to Daddy!” He was starting to get a little worried now, still not seeing them; until he heard a loud shriek come from further down the hallway. With wide eyes, he practically sprinted towards the noise, bursting into the room it had come from.

“Oh. Hey there, Cap! Sir. Mr America… Rogers.”

Steve blinked as he looked down at Scott Lang, sitting on the floor with his three sixteen month old girls clambering over him, giggling and laughing in delight for no apparent reason. “I came because I wanted to talk to Tony about this new breakthrough Hank and I discovered in the lab-- and then I got lost, and then I was trying to find a better signal on my phone, and then I ran into these three cutie patooties!” A wide smile crossed his lips as he ruffled Leigh’s hair, earning a happy squeal from her lips. Exhaling relieved, Steve ran a hand through his blond hair and smiled tiredly at Scott, nodding in thanks. “They seem to like you a lot. It’s your first time meeting them, isn’t it?” Looking to Brooklyn, he raised an eyebrow as he scooped her up, mumbling playfully, “And let me guess. You orchestrated this, didn’t you?” The little girl simply giggled, lifting her hands up to touch her father’s cheeks. “Wawa?” Steve laughed, kissing his daughter’s nose. “Mmhm, I see you changing the subject. Alright, alright, I’ll get you girls some water and then we’ll head home. I bet Mommy’s back by now….”

______________________________

You looked up and immediately smiled upon seeing Steve walk in, carrying Natalia and Brooklyn in each arm while Leigh sat upon his shoulders. “Hello, beautiful,” he greeted, a charming smile crossing his lips as he came over and carefully leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Mama!!! MAMA!” shrieked Natalia, reaching out for you; you giggled as you took her from your husband, kissing her head. “Hello, my pretty babies! And my handsome soldier,” you stood on your tiptoes to give Steve a peck on the lips. “Did you girls take good care of Daddy today?”

Leigh immediately nodded her head with a proud smile, reaching down to hug Steve’s head but only succeeding in somewhat choking his neck. Coughing slightly, he chuckled as he glanced up at her. “Thank you sweetheart, I love you too.” 

“They were good? Didn't give you too much trouble?” you asked with slight amusement, and he smiled somewhat sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Er…. I’ll just tell you about our day later tonight, baby doll. Come on, sit down, let me make you some tea or something.” He smiled and kissed you again before setting Brooklyn down, then playfully grabbed Leigh to hold in his arms. “Come on, my little chef, come help me get Mommy a yummy snack.” 

You smiled fondly as you watched your husband and daughter go into the kitchen, holding Nat while leaning down to hug Brooklyn. “Mm based on that answer, I’m going to guess you kept Daddy on his toes today.”

“Dada toes!” she exclaimed as if confirming, and you giggled softly, shaking your head. “Oh babies, Mommy and Daddy are never going to have a moment of peace with you three, are we?” 

[osakaso5]

Spirit Kaleidoscope: Empty Absolution

Chapter 19 - His Real Aim

Chapter Index

Near the Forest Plaza

Kamaitachi: Brace yourself, criminal! I'll make you pay for the  way you humiliated me that night.

Madoka: ........

Madoka: ...Ugh... You're a weird yokai.

Kamaitachi: Huh!? Like how!?

Madoka: If you knew I was the culprit this whole time, you could just have told the others. Why did you keep your mouth shut?

Madoka: You could've told them the morning after you were attacked, or any time during the tournament.

Kamaitachi: ...Hmph! Of course I didn't tell. If I'd revealed your identity, the other yokai would've got to you.

Madoka: ...Got to me?

Kamaitachi: I wasn't the only yokai who got attacked. The others are just as desperate for revenge.

Kamaitachi: I'm not about to let someone else take you down. I'll prank you with my two hands! All of this is meaningless otherwise!

Madoka: You've got to be kidding me... So it's just a matter of pride for you?

Madoka: You've been stalking me for something that pointless?

Kamaitachi: So what..!? Besides, attacking someone I'm passing by is my specialty.

Kamaitachi: ...For a human to copy me... And do it to me, the great Kamaitachi, of all people..!

Kamaitachi: I'll never, never forgive you..!

Madoka: ......... ...Uuuugh...

Kamaitachi: Wha..! What're you groaning about!? I'm mad for real.

Madoka: I knew this was gonna be a pain... I told him.

Kamaitachi: ...Huh?

Madoka: I knew that attacking people would get us in trouble later... I was so against it, but he wouldn't listen...

Kamaitachi: .....? What're you mumbling about? ...You don't look remorseful at all, Madoka.

Madoka: ........ I'm not remorseful. Duh.

Kamaitachi: W-what!?

Madoka: I might as well ask you, too. Don't your people feel any remorse, either?

Kamaitachi: Huuuh!?

Madoka: I didn't attack those yokai because I wanted to. I'd never have done that if it hadn't been a top secret mission from the capital.

Madoka: The yokai who were attacked should know exactly what they did. And you talk about them like they're just victims...

Kamaitachi: W-wait a second! What are you talking about..? I have no idea what that means.

Madoka: ...You're still playing dumb? You've been causing us trouble in the human world.

Madoka: This would never have happened if you guys hadn't snuck into the human world to attack people.

Kamaitachi: Huh? Hold on... I know I've startled a couple of humans with a sudden gust of wind or two, but...

Madoka: Hmm... I thought your kind's idea of startling people was giving people serious wounds with your sickles.

Madoka: Because of your brutality, the capital had to order us to punish you in secret...

Kamaitachi: I haven't done that! If anything, I've secretly given some medicine to human children who've tripped over...

Madoka: ...Huh?

Kamaitachi: ...Huh?

Madoka & Kamaitachi: ...Hmm?

Forest on the Outskirts of Town - Near the Phantom Realm

Mizuchi: Huff, huff... Ugh...

Mizuchi: ...This is bad. My eyes are so hazy that I can't see properly. On top of that, my body feels numb and heavy...

Mizuchi: This... is serious... I need to get back to the Phantom Realm before that human... Before Hanabusa catches up with me...

Mizuchi: I never expected to fall for a human's trick. I was too careless about the match... Or maybe I just trusted in that human's serious gaze...

Mizuchi: ...Hanabusa... He must've used my true name...

Group of Small Yokai: Wawa... ...Wawawa..!!!

Mizuchi: ........ ...Fufu. I'm okay, don't worry. I'll be back in shape as soon as I return to the Phantom Realm...

Kasane: I can't let ya do that. Do ya know how much trouble I went through to find yer true name?

Whoosh whoosh!

Mizuchi: ......! My body... It's covered in shikigami..!

Kasane: Ahaha! Ya look much more like a serpent with yer body all tied up! That's so funny!

Mizuchi: Ugh... You're... A katanashu..!

Kasane: Hey there. I'm Kasane, commander of the second katanashu squadron. I guess this is the first time we've been introduced? Nice to meet ya.

Kasane: Just call me Kasane. I prefer a casual approach. It's not like we'll be too closely acquainted, anyway. 

Mizuchi: ........ You're... A friend of Hanabusa's?

Kasane: ...Friend..? Yer calling Hababusa-han my friend..?

Kasane: Pfft... Ahaha! That's hilarious! Especially now that  I’ve made him into an accomplice to my crimes.

Kasane: Hanabusa-han doesn't know a thing. He was frolickin' around like a fool because he had a chance to fight a powerful water god.

Kasane: He didn't even notice his sword had been tampered with... Haha. He's so simple-minded and cute.

Mizuchi: What..?

Group of Small Yokai: Kasasa...! Wawawa..!!!

Kasane: Whoa, hey..! All these small fry are swarmin' me... They're so annoyin', even if they don't have bodies.

Kasane: Can ya not get in my way?

Clang

Mizuchi: ......! Sword..!

Kasane: If ya want me to stop, why don't ya stop me? ...Haha! If ya can, that is.

Kasane: Did ya think I only had one of these lookalike talismans of you?

Mizuchi: ........! ...Ugh...

- - - -

Hanabusa: ...Mizuchi, you bastard... Where are you!? Maybe he's already back in the Phantom Realm...

Hanabusa: During the match... He stopped moving and completely let his guard down... Why? Was he ridiculing me?

Hanabusa: ...I won't forgive it. I need another battle... This time, I'll really defeat him...

Group of Small Yokai: Kasa... sasa..! Wa..! Kasakoso..!

Hanabusa: ........ Are these yokai in a hurry..? They seem very flustered.

Hanabusa: What could possibly lie this deep in the woods... .....!

Hanabusa: ...That's...

- - - -

Mizuchi: ........ Why did you sabotage our match? You even went so far as to find my true name...

Kasane: The match was just a bonus. If anything, I was just using it to my advantage. It's not like I care whether we win or not.

Kasane: My real goal was to enslave ya.

Mizuchi: ...Me..?

Kasane: Yep. That's why I talked my subordinate into attackin' all those yokai, to draw ya out of the Phantom Realm.

Mizuchi: ........ So you even set up the attacks... For a purpose like this.

Kasane: That's right! I never expected it to go so smoothly.

Kasane: I'm a real lucky guy. Even the tournament gave me a great chance! I've gotta give a big thanks to Karasutengu!

Kasane: Since ya participated in the matches, I managed to steal yer powers nice and simple...

Mizuchi: ...Hmph... I see... I was caught completely in your schemes.

Mizuchi: I thought I was better prepared due to my long life... But it looks like I still have much to learn...

Kasane: Fufu. Ya look unbothered. Almost like this has nothin' to do with you.

Mizuchi: Of course I'm not. I just know that rushing won't help me in this situation.

Kasane: Huh. I guess you gods come more prepared than the rest of us. Yer a tough one.

Mizuchi: I don't need your flattery. The fact that you came up with this strange plot to enslave me is more than enough.

Kasane: Givin' up yet?

Mizuchi: ...Hmph. No.

Mizuchi: What did you do to Hanabusa's sword? The moment I touched it, my strength vanished. What was that..?

Kasane: Ah, that? I scattered some ashes from a fire sacrifice on the blade. A sacrifice that uses yer true name to seal yer movements.

Kasane: I learned the spell through observation, but I did a pretty good job, didn't I?

Mizuchi: I see... What do you have to gain from trying to enslave me? You have some goal, don't you?

Kasane: ...Huh? Nothin' in particular?

Mizuchi: ...Nothing?

Kasane: Yep. Not a single thing.

Kasane: I mean, yer said to be a real strong yokai. People used to know you as a god. I figured it'd be nice to have a yokai like that at my beck and call.

Kasane: I'm the type that buys the latest smartphone right away. I crave high spec gadgets.

Kasane: Ah, I guess you wouldn't know what a smartphone is, huh? Ahaha!

Mizuchi: ........ ...You...

Kasane: ...Besides... Everythin' here's so boring. I've been feelin' kinda annoyed ever since I came to this city.

Kasane: The katanashu, Hikagemachi, humans, yokai... If I had the power to reset all these problems to zero, I'd probably stop bein' so annoyed!

Mizuchi: ...You're planning to completely destroy Hikagemachi?

Kasane: Oh dear me, that sounds so scary! Only in the case of an emergency. I like havin' somethin' to fall back on.

Mizuchi: ........ Still, it should be forbidden for you to tie a yokai to yourself with a contract.

Mizuchi: That was what we agreed when the Grand Gate was built. Do you think you can get away with doing this in the human realm?

Kasane: Ya really know yer stuff, Mizuchi-han. That's true, but ya don't need to worry about it.

Kasane: I'll have the powers of a water god, after all. I doubt anyone's gonna dare complain.

Kasane: That's enough talk. Let's get on with this contract, shall we? I've got lots of work for ya.

Mizuchi: ........

Hanabusa: ...Ridiculous.

Slash!

Mizuchi: ...Hanabusa!? My arms and legs are free... You cut the shikigami...

Kasane: Hanabusa-han..? Ya caught up already..!?

Kasane: ...Don't go cuttin' stuff without askin'. I just got Mizuchi under wraps.

Hanabusa: ...Quiet. I've had enough of your nonsense.

Hanabusa: I heard everything. You were pulling the strings this whole time, from the attacks to our match...

Kasane: Oh dear. It's not very nice to eavesdrop.

Hanabusa: This is a serious violation of our code of conduct. As your superior officer, I can't overlook your actions. ...Especially since you disturbed our match.

Hanabusa: You'll pay for your wrongdoings.

Kasane: Oh boy. Ya look like a demon, swingin' that sword at me. That's our Commander Ogre for ya.

Hanabusa: If that's what you think, I could start acting like a real ogre.

Kasane: Oh, I'm so scared. ...I'm not about to just lie down and take it, ya know.

Kasane: Right, Mizuchi?

Mizuchi: .....! My body... It's moving according to Kasane's words..!

Hanabusa: ...What!?

Kasane: Play with Hanabusa-han a little for me, will ya? This joke’s gone  a little too far, so just rough him up enough  that he'll stop bein' and obstacle.

Kasane: I'm finally havin' some fun... It's really rude of ya to get in my way, Hanabusa-han.

Mizuchi: Ugh...

Hanabusa: Kasane, you bastard..! Don't tell me, you're controlling him..?

Kasane: Isn't this nice, Hanabusa-han? Didn't ya want a battle with the water god? Now ya can fight to yer heart's content.

Hanabusa: ......... I never expected you to be this much of a fool. This is not a true battle..!

Kasane: Now's not a time for pretty words. C'mon, get yer sword out before the water god kills you.

Kasane: This time, the match isn't gonna end in yer favor. Haha.

Hanabusa: ...Bastard...

Kasane: I told ya, didn't I? I always repay my debts. I'm known for my strong sense of duty, believe it or not.

Mizuchi: Hanabusa... Run. ...I can't control my powers..!

Hanabusa: Ugh...

Kasane: This is where the real fourth match starts! ...Now, Mizuchi. Pummel him as much as ya like.

To be continued...

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader] pt.6

hey gamers, remember when i was a writer?

i anticipate one more part to this fic before i wrap it up completely, and maybe i wont take four months to write this one-

warnings: none, to be honest? theres like. some angsty conversation but its not much or super heavy.

            The next morning, Jeremy Heere woke up to a foggy mind and new weight on his chest and side. He blinked in the light of day peeking through the blinds, drew in a deep breath, and realize this was definitely not his bedroom. At first he froze, looking to his side - where you had curled up close to him, peacefully sleeping. Then he remembered everything, all within an instant, and it was like the storm that had been brewing inside of him suddenly ceased.

           Okay. Okay. This was fine. Jeremy pressed himself back into the bed, shutting his eyes - you were probably just cold, and since he was there, you just - you must have gravitated his way. It made sense. It made complete sense, actually - you were definitely still somewhat sick, so being cold made sense for you. With you curled up close to him, he couldn’t move without the risk of waking you up. So he stayed still, eyes shut as he listened to the soft sound of your breathing, acutely aware of how warm you were beside him. Why was he so... tuned into that? You were asleep. You were alive. Yet it was almost as if that was a foreign concept as he observed how warm you were, flush against his side, and how peaceful you looked when he stole a glance towards you.

           So he laid back and shut his eyes, and tried to fall back asleep for a little longer and not think about the way that his arm had slightly draped over you-

           Luckily, that didn’t last long. He felt you stir awake, before the weight of you on his chest was gone and he was left yearning for that little bit of warmth. He listened to you stifle a yawn. 

           “Shit.” Your voice was quiet. “Hey, uh, Jer?” You reached out, gently shaking him. “C’mon, dude-”

           He feigned waking up as well as he could, and thankfully it seemed to fool you. “Mm?” He hummed as he looked up at you. You were bathed in the pretty sunlight of morning and that caught his attention more than it should.

           “Does your dad know you’re here?” You asked.

           He sat forward slowly, shifting into a more comfortable position. “I’m pretty sure he knows I’m Heere, [y/n]-”

           Immediately, you jabbed him with your elbow. “That was fucking terrible, Jeremy.”

           He smiled a little, the remnants of sleep having taken hold of him. He stifled a yawn, “no, uh, I didn’t - I didn’t really say anything-”

           “Then... you should go home.” You froze for a moment, looking toward your bedroom door, “fuck, my parents don’t know you’re here and, uh,” you looked back at him, “they’re... gonna question why I have a guy in my room.”

           He watched you crawl off of your bed, standing and stretching for a moment before heading towards your door. You held a finger up, slowly cracking your door open to peek out into the hallway, before quickly slipping through and shutting the door behind you. He stifled a yawn as he, too, climbed out of the bed with nothing but a fatigue in his bones and a weird light in his chest - and he paused as he caught sight of a Gameboy color sitting on your desk, the faded grape color having caught his eye in its contrast to your desk. He took a small step over, picking it up and pulling the game cartridge from it - and he smiled at the chubby, determined Pikachu that met him. You’d changed - that much was certain - but... there were little pieces of you still scattered about. While he never knew you to be a flower person (after all - he had caught a glimpse of dried sunflowers sitting on your desk, and a sticky note next to them to figure out where to put them that looked faded from light), or someone who... who used people, you were still you in lovely little ways that made him crack a smile and made him wonder just how many things weren’t you before? How many things exactly had been scripted out for you to follow? His stomach twisted at the thought. 

           Then he stumbled across your sketchbook, and did an act that he felt in his bones would be utter betrayal to you: he opened it. He hadn’t seen your art in so long, and his curiosity would have eaten him up if he hadn’t at least peeked at what you had been up to. Besides... you had to have improved, right? He knew that. He knew art was a huge part of your life and who you are, and he just-

           He recognized your art. Not in the sense of it hasn’t changed, because it had drastically changed from the shitty anime style with too-pointy features and stiff poses (not that he saw anything really wrong with that - you were young, you were practicing, and even if you hadn’t improved you were in love with what you were doing). He’d seen these sketches before, posted online from an artist he followed who had actually posted not too long ago an apology for their absence. The timing was too right, the details too exact. He snapped it shut quickly the moment he heard the doorknob jiggle, turning to face you immediately as he pushed it back onto the desk behind him.

           You stared at him upon opening the door, his panicked expression definitely giving him away. “Uh... you alright?”

           “Yes!” Jeremy had said it too quickly, too suddenly, and you raised a brow before he continued, “I’m, uh, I’m fine - are your parents-”

           “... Gone,” you said, leaving your door open as you walked towards him, “are you sure you’re alright?”

           “I just. I, uh. Please don’t be mad.” Jeremy stepped aside, looking back towards your sketchbook, “I, uh, peeked.”

           “You looked?” you said, more confused than angry - and he was thankful for that. “Okay?”

           “You aren’t mad?”

           “I mean... you didn’t, like, destroy anything, right?” You flipped open the sketchbook, only to pause as you realized which one he had looked into - because you had been keeping two sketchbooks, one for on-the-go that was smaller and fit into your bag and another that you often left at home unless you were going on a long trip or had any other excuse to carry it with you. The one that you used for the pieces you planned, or the ones you sketched with the intent of posting them online.

           “I, uh... why, uh, why didn’t you tell us?”

           “Us?” You raised a brow, shutting the book as you turned away from it. “Oh. Michael. Look, Jeremy, I... considered it, but... I dunno, there’s a reason I use an alias online-”

           He turned shades of red before you, averting his gaze as he understood  -mentally kicking himself for a stupid question. “That’s fine! I just - I’m, uh, surprised. You’ve... you’ve really improved, you know?”

           He had caught a glimpse of your smile as you ran your fingers down the textures cover of your sketchbook. “Drawing every day does that,” you admitted with a casual shrug, before shaking your head to dismiss any further thoughts and you looked back up at him, “c’mon. I’ll walk you home.”

          Jeremy swore he knew too much about you.

          The thought hadn’t occurred to him until one day during lunch, where you were sitting next to Michael and talking about dumb things that made you laugh - and he noticed how there was a small wrinkle in your nose when you laughed or smiled hard enough. But you laughed at the same jokes, and, fuck, was it possible to have missed someone’s laugh? 

          But there was Christine. He liked Christine. He knew he liked Christine. Besides - you seem so close to Rich, how are you two not dating? He was always so touchy with you, an arm around your waist casually and he knew so many facts about you.

          But then again, Jeremy also knew a lot about you. He knew your favorite candy hadn’t changed (Sour Patch Kids, specifically the watermelon ones), and that you loved the peach-mango slushies from Wawa (and the lemon bars, and the sourdough melts with pepperoni). He knew you loved art so much, and he loved watching you draw and the way you furrowed your brow in frustration while paying such close attention to every little action you took whil eerasing and redrawing different parts over and over. He knew you painted your nails black without a care, and he remembered the day you had offered to paint his nails and Michael’s too (and Michael had been the one to take you up on that offer, Jeremy too nervous and flustered to say yes - how would he even explain that to his dad?).

          Then there was the way you always joked alongside him. Michael was used to his lame puns and stupid jokes, usually elbowing him playfully at the first painfully bad pun before meeting the rest with a groan feigned with annoyance - but you? You laughed at him, and you made shitty puns back, and you made him smile. There was something so beautiful in your smile, and god - you were like sunshine to him. Even when you were tormented by the bullshit you’d gone through, you still had the kind of presence who lit up a room and you were still the kind of person whose presence he sort of hungrily drank in because you were so warm and loving and so, so damn nerdy that you felt like home. 

          And one day it was just you and him and Michael. Michael left the room, door left open as he meandered through the Heere household with expertise - and you lit up at something. And you nudged him, pointing over forwards the faded planet stickers still stuck to his bedroom door. And he smiled: you remembered them. He couldn’t believe that you would remember such a little detail like that, but... it made him feel important, in the weirdest way, and maybe he was greedy for chasing that feeling but it was so good that he was willing to accept another religion’s deadly sin if it meant he’d feel important.

          And he finds himself listening to Spotify on lazy afternoons after classes, and he hears you in some songs. So he sort of smiled at that after the first few times it had happened, and made a new playlist with your name as the title - with the intention of finding some image to throw into onto it later. Michael caught him adding music to it one day, and he sorta laughed at it before nudging him.

          “So where’s my playlist, Jer?”

          Jeremy laughed it off.

          And then it clicked in Michael’s mind as he looked at him, taking in the sight of the faint flush to the scrawny boy’s face as he went back to what he had been doing without much of a second thought and that stupid dreamy look in his eye that Michael had seen so many times before. “You like [y/n], don’t you?”

          “What? No!” he immediately said, spinning his chair and pushing away as he looked at Michael. Then the guilt set in quick, regret pooling deep in his stomach with a nasty poison to it all. That’s when he first started to sort-of realize that you were more than a friend in his mind. But he finished your playlist that night anyway (at least - finished enough, even if he would add more tasty jams for you to enjoy at a later date) and he sent it to you. 

          The heart emojis you sent back made him smile.

          The sticky summer heat enveloped you as you took a slow, cautious step onto the front porch. Even at night, you felt as if you’d completely melt if you stayed outside for too long. But you needed this moment to yourself, to breathe and stand outside in the quiet. To pretend that Michael wasn’t snoring inside. Besides - it’d just be a few minutes. You sank down onto the porch swing that was definitely relatively new considering Michael absolutely didn’t have this a few years ago. You’d remember if he did. It swayed underneath your weight, and you shut your eyes for a moment and breathe. And it was just you. 

          Then the door creaked open, and you opened your eyes to see Jeremy standing halfway in the doorway, leaning out to look at you. At first he acted as if he were going to speak - but he stepped out, shutting the door behind him as he approached you.

          He stopped at the edge of the swing, curling his fingers around the chain at his end. He stood there nervously, fiddling with the metal absentmindedly before he finally took in a deep breath to calm his nerves.“Are you okay?” He asked, voice quiet and laced with the dwindling remnants of sleep. 

          You nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.” And you were. Tired, sure, but you were okay and you’d trade anything to just be okay forever.

          Jeremy sat down next to you, absentmindedly rocking the swing back and forth. “Are you sure?”

          “Yeah,” you nodded, “I just forgot how loudly Michael snores.”

          He raised a brow at that. “How did you forget?”

          You shrugged. “It’s been a while-”

          “Yeah,” he said, “but - what’s your secret, [y/n]?” He smiled at you, “I’d do anything to forget that.”

          You couldn’t help but crack a smile in return. But you didn’t respond, instead looking back out.

          So Jeremy spoke again. “Can... Can I ask you something?”

          “You just did,” you said without a second thought, before looking to him, “but yeah, sure.”

          “You, uh, you don’t have to answer or anything, since, I, uh, I know how bad it was but...” He paused for a beat, taking in another breath to calm himself. “What was it like?”

          You understood. “It’s like...” You started, pressing your lips together as you searched for the words. “It’s just a constant voice in the back of your head. Like - y’know how it feels to second guess yourself sometimes?” He nodded. You continued, “it’s - it’s sorta like that, but instead of being hard on yourself for that, you have something else making the decision to give you shit for it every fucking moment.” You wrapped your fingers around your other wrist, acutely aware of the electrical scars that now reside there, “I don’t want to go back to that.”

          “I’m sorry-” He started. Then he went wide-eyed, “wait, fuck, you did this for me, right?”

          “Not entirely,” you shrugged. “I mean... Rich said it’d make me cool. That people would like me, and... then, after I took it, it said it’d help make you like me.” You paused, “ugh, god, that sounds so fucking stupid when I think about it.” 

          “It’s not,” he said, a little too quickly, “I mean - I think it makes sense, since... I dunno, we all want to be liked, I guess?”

          You blurted out your thoughts, “it wanted to... to get to you, too.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment. “Sorry, it - it just said you were, uh, the perfect candidate.” You forced a bitter laugh past your lips, “I wonder what the criteria for that is.” But you turned gentle, voice soft. “I, uh, I said no. You didn’t deserve... that. You deserve to be yourself, Jeremy.”

          For the longest time, he was quiet. But he finally looked over at you for a moment, “what if it had been me?”

          “What?”

          “What if... y’know... it had been me instead of you?”

          “I... I don’t know.” You pressed your lips together into a thin, tight line as you mulled the thought over. “I don’t think we’d be sitting here right now.” Nervously, you scratched at the back of your neck. “And I think you’d be a huge dick, to be honest.”

          “What!?” He turned back to you, “why?”

          Your laugh was light, airy, forced. “Just a feeling.” A smile ghosted over your lips as you looked away. “You still like Christine, right?”

          That caught him off guard. “Uh - yeah, I mean - I do, but - it’s, uh, it’s complicated.” He frowned.

          “Oh,” you smiled, genuine this time, and turned back to him. “Another crush? That’s... actually really valid.”

         “What about you?” He asked, and he ignored the hope that rose and quaked in fear inside of his chest.

         You merely shrugged. “I don’t know. I... haven’t really thought about how I feel in a while. But... I think I like someone.” You paused to laugh the thought off, “god, I feel like a kid saying it like that, but...”

         And then you paused again. 

         “Oh my god.” You looked at Jeremy, “we’re seniors.”

         In time, he wouldn’t remember the conversation exactly. He remembered the vague outline - college, majors, high school, and for a moment sex, before the air felt awkward (in... a weird way that felt good and weird at the same time, and he couldn’t exactly define why). You stood up, stretching as you turned to head back inside, and you said something to him that he didn’t remember because, if he was honest, he was lost in the way you looked in the light of the moon and stars and it made him feel like a big fucking sap. He followed you inside after a moment, laughing off the spaced-out behavior, and descended into the depth of Michael’s basement with a hope that he would get some good sleep - and if he couldn’t, he hoped at least you would. One of you should at least make it through the night with this sleeping dragon nearby.

[cleverbroadwayurl]

Conspiracy (Jeremy Heere x Reader Pt. 25)

Song: Conspiracy by Paramore

Word Count: 3761

Need to Catch Up? Check out my masterlist! 

A/N: Oh my god I finally did it. I’m so sorry this took months but that’s because my courses right now are really hard and take about 8 hours a week of studying per class (aka 40 hours a week of studying total). But I’m on break right now, so please enjoy! I will try to have more out soon! 

Taglist: @macbookpro-hard-drive​ @catatonic-kuragin​ @retrogarden​ @be-more-heidi-hansen​ @scarsonthecuffsofyourjeans​ @stargirl-murphy​ @heytheredee-lilah​ 

Trigger Warnings: LANGUAGE, Angst, mentions of an abusive boyfriend, mentions of abuse, Jeremy crying, implication of stalking, implication of assault, IF I MISSED ANYTHING ELSE PLEASE LET ME KNOW

Jeremy can feel his phone vibrate, expecting a text from you, telling him that you’d made it home okay. He can feel a sense of surprise go across his face at the contact, and even more so at the message over and over again. 

Rich: We need to talk. 

Jeremy walked into his room and fell onto his bed, hands gripping his phone as he did so. Subconsciously, he’d closed the door, and was secure in his room, head still reeling, face still pale as he remembered the look you gave him on his doorstep. That wasn’t a comfort, and neither was this text from Rich, which spiked his anxiety tenfold. He didn’t think that was possible, images of you accidentally not paying attention for a split second and losing you forever plaguing his mind. He’d been so close to losing you before, but this…was a cruel act of fate as you stepped away from him again.

Laying on his bed, Jeremy got another text from Rich, his phone the only sound vibrating into the space. He reluctantly looked at his phone, the notification as haunting as the first one, each one seeming more panicked than the last. Jeremy could feel shivers crackle down his spine, hands not feeling like his own as he opened his phone with a fingerprint scanner—thank god Apple had incorporated that.

His read receipts were on, he always forgot about that. So Rich knew that he had read the last text, and now the one that came, and the ones that he assured were coming soon.

Rich: dude, can we talk? Just for a second. I promise I’ll be fast

Jeremy’s hands are already uneasy as he types, unsure how the letters are falling in place correctly. He’s seeing the motion, knows it’s happening, but doesn’t seem to place that it’s his hands doing the movement.

Jeremy: Uhh sure, what’s up?

He regrets it. Jeremy knows he’s in no state to even listen to another person’s problems right now, visions of so much passing through his brain in a flash. What if your ex texted you? What if you can’t get home safely, but were too embarrassed to tell him? What if you were parked at some gas station, just crying your eyes out? The images pass quickly, but somehow, Rich can type faster. It feels like a distraction at this point, but Jeremy didn’t need this kind of placement of focus. He needed something to relax him, something to reassure him.

Rich: Do you have a second to like…talk? On the phone? Typing is weird.

Jeremy sighs, but nothing is still. His heart is pounding so loud that Jeremy can hear its echo in his ears, legs stiff as he leans his back against the wall, sitting up to physically prepare him for this conversation that was heavily contributing to the sweat on his palms, unable to focus on anything.

Rich is quick, Jeremy is still fascinated by that. Maybe he was just moving that much slower, mind teasing daydreams turning into nightmares within frames of them starting. The phone is still vibrating, and it feels like it’s been buzzing for eternities. That was enough confirmation. Jeremy was just working through problems as if he were running in water, feet not on the ground. Finally, he feels the courage to pick up, to say something, even though he’s sure that his voice will shake. “Hello?”

“Jeremy, thank fuck. This has been on my mind for weeks and I literally don’t have anyone else who would know what the fuck is going on right now.”

Right away, Jeremy can sense that Rich is in trouble. The ramble has Jeremy’s mind resorting to nervousness, but not the healthy amount. This has been going on for days, it’s clear as Rich continues speaking, not seeming to breathe between sentences, the enhanced amount of “fuck”s, voice hoarse with each passing syllable—this is bad, even for Rich.

“What’s up?”

“Oh my god there was this girl here in Metuchen, someone you’ve never met or seen before, and I swear I didn’t do anything, but like, I don’t even know where to begin, you know? Fuck Jeremy, this is awful, I feel like I haven’t slept in days or slept too much and all I can think about is her, even though we barely even fucking talked and I have no idea what’s she’s up to or if she got home okay—”

“Get to the point, Rich.”

Jeremy didn’t mean to snap, but his eyes had glanced over his digital alarm clock, noticing that you should’ve gotten home a while ago. The reminder that Rich spit into existence didn’t help his case either. Jeremy could feel the lump in his throat form, breaths getting shaky. You had been in such trouble, in and out of reality, maybe you’d been followed home by that shitty little red speedster, which could only remind Jeremy of almost a year ago, lights flashing, nights in sterile rooms, eyes falling into sleep, FRIENDS in the background, his fucking blue sweater, and now everything is crumbling, he just lost—

“Jeremy, you good?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Can you say that again? My dad called me for something and I couldn’t focus.”

It was a lie, but an easy cover-up. He knew that his dad wouldn’t mind being the bad guy when Jeremy needed an out. He’d mentioned that when Jeremy had gone off to college if he was ever pressured into drinking or going out or some other thing.  

“Uhh yeah. So on the night of Brooke’s backyard party, I split early because…because I had previous commitments. But I was out of gas so I stopped at the Wawa off of the I-95. I went inside the Wawa to grab some stuff and I accidentally bumped into his girl—the one I mentioned who isn’t from around here. She mentioned that she was alone, her friend abandoned her at this Wawa, and I couldn’t just leave her alone, right?”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Right. So, I took her home—”

“Rich”

“I promise I didn’t sleep with her! She was lonely and needed a place to stay, and I swear, I’m not like that anymore. Haven’t been for years, not since the SQUIP thing. It just brings up too many…yeah. But I got her stuff for the next day until she could get on her flight in a few days, Christine agreed to see a show with her, Waitress, I think. She posted on Instagram?”

“Christine? Yeah. I didn’t know you knew that girl.”

“Yeah. She’s my…friend. But Christine really likes her, and I think they had a really good time.”

“That’s good.” Although the conversation is going, Jeremy’s been watching time tick past, mind just blurring over each word, grazing the surface and not searching for anything deeper. He swipes down to see his notifications—nothing yet. It’s at times like these that Jeremy wished you’d let him see your location. He understood that it was absolutely an invasion of privacy, but—no that was selfish. Maybe you’d gotten caught up with someone, or maybe you’d already gotten home. Then why didn’t you text him? Jeremy’s fists ball up his comforter, the colon on his clock blinking with each second, and he’s practically counting each one. Rich becomes white noise to his worry, face still pale as the room gets darker.

“I don’t know—dude, it’s stupid, but—I think. I think I might be a little in love with her.”

Jeremy’s eyes immediately widened, and suddenly the world gets put into hyperspeed. “What?!”

“But she’s from Florida, and—”

“Rich, you’re in love with her?”

“I don’t know!”

“Shit, dude. I get it.”

“That’s what I mean. You are the only person who gets it, at least that I know of.”

“Yeah…I guess I am.”

“Exactly.”

“But now she’s so far away, and—”

“You feel like you can’t focus or sleep.”

“Yeah.”

“Rich, dude, you gotta talk to her.”

“Hypocrite.” It’s a laugh, a joke, something that Jeremy knows hasn’t happened for days. He recalls every night he spent in his dorm, Michael sleeping soundly, as Jeremy tosses and turns, mind racing and hoping for a sign that you’re okay. Dusk begins to turn into twilight, and he hopes that you’re okay. God, he’s about to be sent into that state now, just from you not being home, that something is wrong, he knows it.

“Fair.” It’s emotionless as it comes from Jeremy, realizing the reality of everything. He was going to have to cut Rich off to make sure you were okay. A life was…as much as he hated to say it, more important than this.

“But I can’t talk to her. What would I do after that?”

“You could go long distance.”

“I met her for two days, Jeremy.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ve also heard long distance is hard even for people who have been together for a year, so that might not…work.”

“Exactly.”

“You should still tell her, you know? She deserves to know, and it might feel good to get it off of your chest.”

“Yes, but she’s also in Florida.”

“Yeah, true.”

There’s another pause, and Jeremy can hear the blankets on the other end of the line shift. Rich was in bed, probably had been for days, and Jeremy’s heart sunk even more; this wasn’t like Rich. This was…bad.

But the preoccupation of you still haunted him. It was entirely possible that you’d been hunted down by your ex-boyfriend. Jeremy’s memories of “don’t drive to my house, he knows where I live—” ringing in his head. Your ex was forgetful in the way that all abusers are. They forget needs but remember the parts of your life to torment you, remember to lie in order to get you to feel crazy. He remembered where you lived after two times of ever going to your house, and that, even to Jeremy, was the most frightening thing that could be remembered. He opens messages, eyes flicking to your conversation, hoping for at least the typing symbol to appear.

Nothing. Thirty minutes, and nothing from you. His heart raced and palms began to sweat, shivers running down Jeremy’s spine. As much as Rich wasn’t himself, this wasn’t like you either. The shifting stopped, but the panic that forced Jeremy to enter a world of hurt was just beginning. He was about to end the call with Rich to see if you were okay, but then again, if you had gotten caught with your ex, and he called, that could also be bad, for reasons he didn’t want to think about. The light from the summer day drifted into nighttime, heat going down outside, but rising in Jeremy. Just as Jeremy is about to say something to Rich to get him to hang up, the line picks up.

“Hey Jeremy?”

“Yeah?” It came out harsh and rushed, but he really couldn’t help it. Panic controlled him now.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You uhh…seem really distant.”

He inhales, trying his best to maintain composure while talking to his friend. If he can’t do that, he might as well drive to your house and make sure that you got home safely, and if not, drive around town until you were found. “Oh uh, yeah. I just got back from a date with (y/n) and they uhh haven’t texted me that they got home safely. I’m starting to get really worried about it.”

“Starting? Dude, it’s been the entire time.” He pauses for a second, letting the sentence hang in open air. “But I’m sure they’re okay, it was just a what, 10-minute drive?”

Jeremy stiffened. A 10-minute drive right now could be death. You could’ve not seen a red light and collided with someone. You could have been run off of the road. The last moments you were here with distracted, unsure, and panicky. This was not just a drive home. It was a fatal quest. But he couldn’t tell Rich that, this wasn’t about Jeremy right now. This was about Rich and his Florida girl and his feelings towards her. He had to get the topic off of this. “Yeah.”

“How is everything with them, by the way? I’ve been uhh…talking a lot and I just realized that you really haven’t gotten the chance to say anything.”

“It’s going well. Just some…stuff happened on our date.” It wasn’t fair to you to go into what had happened. Yes, Rich knew, but he didn’t know everything that Jeremy had seen. He didn’t know about the sleepless nights, the apologies, the times you were so scared you could barely even make physical contact, the moments of guilt over something you had no control over. Rich knew the technicalities, Jeremy knew the truths.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to drive over there now?”

“No, it’s okay. I’m more worried about them.” It was nice of Rich to offer to drive from Elizabeth to Metuchen, but unnecessary. Plus, it would mean Jeremy would have to tell the whole truth, which was something that he wasn’t comfortable with. It was your story, one you’d mentioned in previous times that you were embarrassed about. You’d requested to not share photos with your ex, that you regretted every moment. You requested something like a restart, but this time, with a lot more boundaries, and unfortunately, experiences you’d like to forget.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jeremy took another breath. The answer was yes, but he really wasn’t sure how to approach it. But since Rich knew, it might be better to have him on your side. You knew that Rich understood what was going on. It was in another private moment that you’d confessed when Rich witnessed your ex-boyfriend slam doors in your face, only to have Rich open them again, trying his hardest to not make it seem like he was flirting through trying to be friendly, but still be someone you could trust, even if he was just on the sidelines. It wasn’t like Rich was a stranger to you…and it might be good to spread it around that Jeremy’s partner can’t go to this grocery store. “We uhh went to that giant strip mall not too far from here.”

“That’s awesome, dude. Good date idea.”

“Yeah, and we like, both had a good time for the first part of it. But their mom wanted us to get her something from that grocery store over there. The really expensive one but has like…stuff you can’t get anywhere else?”

“At the end of the strip mall by Starbucks and Cold Stone?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy takes a shaky breath, dreading to relive the moments he’d just gone through with you and to have his mind completely blocked out by memory. Keeping calm was out of the question at this point, anger and worry boiling to Jeremy’s breaking point, tears threatening in his eyes to flood onto his face. “And their ex works there, Rich. We saw him two feet away from us. We booked it out of there after we paid, but I had to drive myself home Rich, in their car. They couldn’t even feel their hands. And now they aren’t texting me that they made it home safely and I’m—”

The text tone rings out, an apology from you finally in Jeremy’s hands.

You: Sorry about being so late, my mom wanted her groceries and I wanted to take a shower to try and calm down with some alone time with no disturbances.

Jeremy: Thank god you’re okay. You’re fine, please get some rest

Just as Jeremy sends the text back to you, a “FUCK” rings out from Rich’s side of the call. There’s an obvious door slam, but the shout still sounds distant from the phone. Rich must have gotten up.

“Rich? You okay?”

“Dude, I’m so sorry.”

“What for? I just got their text, you don’t need to leave, they just took a shower and forgot to text, which, they were really out of it, so I can’t really blame them for it.”

“Jeremy, you’re going to be really pissed.”

“What? Rich, no. I don’t have anything to be mad about.”

“Dude, no, you’re going to be mad. I don’t even know how to…explain this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jeremy, I knew.”

“Knew? What are you talking about?”

“I knew that he worked there, Jeremy, but—”

At this point, nothing gets through Jeremy’s ears. Worry turns to anger and before he can even think, Jeremy opens his mouth and starts yelling over Rich. No excuse, none, is okay to forget something this fucking big.

“What the fuck, Rich?”

“Dude—”

“No, really! What the FUCK, Richard?! What the fuck could make you forget about something like this?”

“Jer—”

“It’s their EX, Rich! The same fucking one who—”

“I know! Fuck dude, I already feel so fucking awful for forgetting.”

“Oh, you feel awful? How do you fucking think it felt to be standing there with my partner so fucking scared they can’t even move? How do you justify that, Richard? Huh?”

The line is quiet for a second, and Jeremy can hear himself breath, heart ringing in his ears. He can feel his entire body heave with every inhale, eyes blurry, hands sweaty. This entire thing could’ve been avoided if Rich hadn’t forgotten about a very important detail. For a minute or two, Jeremy thinks Rich hung up, tired of hearing him yell about this. But it was justified. This was a big fucking deal that could’ve ended in death. Did Rich just not see that or—

“Okay, Jeremy. You gotta fucking promise me that you’re going to take a second and calm down.”

“I don’t even—”

“Jeremiah Heere.”

Initially, Jeremy removed the phone from his ear, thinking his dad had called him downstairs for “using so much foul language”. It’s quiet in the house, however, as Jeremy’s dad usually calls more than once for him. The silence is enough to tell Jeremy that it was Rich who had suddenly sounded like a parent to him, calling him by his full name, something usually only his dad does. The snap back into reality hits him hard, causing an exhale, and a step back. “Alright.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“So, Florida girl.”

“Does she have a name?”

“I’m getting there. Florida girl. She had…there was a lot that happened, okay? It’s not really…my thing to tell, but just…trust me, dude, it was a lot. There was stuff with her best frie—former best friend and…it just really got to her, which is completely understandable, and we uhh saw Christine for a bit and that uhh helped, I thought at least, and then we went to go and get groceries since Gabe asked us to.” There’s a pause here, a deep breath passes through the speaker, almost as if Rich is too afraid to talk about the next part of the explanation. “We uhh…we got back to my place…and I put the truck in park…you remember the truck…and she-she like…”

Another pause hits, this time longer and shakier than the last. A good thirty seconds goes by of nothing, before Jeremy finally says something, seeing if he’s still on the line. “Rich?”

“Yeah, uhh…we basically made out before—y’know, I uh, had to stop her since…it’s…she-she didn’t want that. She was really upset…and uh, since that happened, it…it honestly just slipped my mind, Jeremy. I’m so sorry, dude.”

As much as reality hurt, Jeremy was sent back to the past. This was a case he was somewhat familiar with. When you came over that very first time, with you being so upset, there had been shared kisses, there had been implications of moving forward, but Jeremy stopped them. The second time it happened, you had stopped them from previous trauma. He didn’t move forward because it wasn’t healthy, and with you dissociating, it wasn’t consensual, even if it was just kissing. The concept, the scenario, everything was familiar to Jeremy. The act of wanting to feel something good and being so desperate for happiness was something you’d been trying to achieve over a year ago. Jeremy could understand how something so big slipped his mind.

That being said, historically, Rich has been one to use that to his advantage. Although things seemed better now, Jeremy was still unsure that it was just…left with that; that Rich had dropped any idea of taking advantage after this encounter. Sure, the SQUIP was gone, but Rich also sounded upset, so he could’ve…done it later. He had to say something, anything, to clear the air and make sure that things ended at least somewhat okay. If they didn’t, Jeremy would hang up. If they did…that would be a discussion for later.

“So, you didn’t…?”

“Fuck dude, no way. She just slept in my room and I took the couch. I wanted her to be safe…you know? That…would not have been safe.”

“Alright.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“Are we…are we good?”

“I think so. Uhh sorry about—”

“No, Jeremy, you had every reason to be mad. I’m mad at myself for forgetting.”

“But you had—”

“Yeah.”

There’s another pause, the conversation starting to end as both ends of the call calm down. “Hey Jeremy?”

“Yeah?”

“I should uh, go. Gabe made food, and I have stuff I have to do, but I’m so sorry. I don’t think I can say it enough.”

“I accept the apology, Rich.”

“Thanks, Jeremy.”

“Of course. Let me know when you have a day free. I feel like…we need to catch up.”

“I’ll keep you posted.”

“Bye.”

“See ya.”

The call ends with a click, an hour and a half going by easily. He’d have to tell you what Rich said, of course, but the conversation should be in person so that Jeremy can express what was happening without being too telling of the mystery girl. Night is in full swing as Jeremy pulls out his phone, texting you again.

Jeremy: Are you feeling any better?

You: Yeah. Just playing Life is Strange. I’m so sorry about dinner

Jeremy: Don’t worry about it, okay? We can make it up a different day.

You: Are you sure?

Jeremy: Positive.

You: You’re so sweet, thank you so much for being there for me and not…getting really mad that we have to postpone it.

Jeremy: You can’t control something like that. I don’t expect you to. It’s one date. We can go whenever we both feel comfortable with it.

You: Call you tomorrow?

Jeremy: Yeah. Jeremy: I care about you a lot, so please get some rest, okay? Don’t stress about today, and if anything happens, I’m here.

You: Thank you, Jer. You too.

[letterboxd]

How I Letterboxd #1: Lise

In this first instalment of a new feature, long-time member Lise, of Canada, answers our questions about how she uses Letterboxd, and why you should join her March Around the World challenge.

Hi Lise! How long have you been on Letterboxd? Lise: TV was still in black and white.

What do you mainly use Letterboxd for? Just a diary? Long reviews or shorter takes? Hilarious lists, or very f—king serious director rankings don’t @ me? I use the whole shebang: diary, reviews, ratings, watchlist, comments and lists, lots of lists. But mostly I use Letterboxd to keep track of when Jonathan is out to lunch (shameless plug for my He Says She Says list).

Do you rate films? Absolutely. I rely on ratings to add stuff to my watchlist, and I rate to let others know if I liked the film. I don’t read reviews for films I haven’t seen, so without user ratings I’d be snookered.

Tell us about your March Around The World challenge, in which Letterboxd members sign up to watch and review 30 films from 30 different countries during the month of March. How did it come about, and what’s involved? I took over the challenge from Berken, who created it and hosted it for the first year. I thought it was a brilliant way to explore the world on the cheap. The review component is important because it expands Letterboxd’s database, especially for under-seen films. It’s been a great success. Many participants like to create lists, and if they can’t watch them all in March they go at it for the rest of the year, which is great. The most important rule about the challenge is to forget the rules and watch international films during the month.

Still from Djibril Diop Mambéty’s ‘Touki Bouki’ (1973).

What are some of the interesting statistics you’ve noticed from your Marches Around the World? I consolidated all of the spreadsheets I’ve created for each challenge, and there were some surprises. The most viewed film is Touki-Bouki from Senegal (average rating of 3.7). Less surprising is that our most-viewed director is Ingmar Bergman (although I was happy to see Aki Kaurismäki from Finland in second place). The most-viewed countries are France, Japan and South Korea. Another surprise, the best decade is the 1920s (with the 1950s in a close second).

How has March Around the World enhanced your life? I’m not the sentimental type but when we get a new participant in the challenge I get the warm and fuzzies. If the genie were out of the bottle I would request that all overcome the ‘one-inch barrier’ (subtitles). Watching films ‘from away’, as our East Coasters would say, is one of the simplest ways to combat fears and/or prejudices about other peoples/nations/ways of life that we often don’t realize we have. Every time we identify or root for someone who is ‘other’ it chips away at the walls, and as Maya Angelou has said so eloquently, we discover that “We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike”.

What are the responsibilities involved in hosting a Letterboxd challenge? It doesn’t have to be complicated. A challenge can be as simple as “watch ten films from your watchlist this month”. It’s all about tags. Define a tag, have people add it to their films and their lists, and then you can easily search for and filter those tags. Easy peasy. Mine is a bit more challenging because it has so many requirements, but thanks to some fantastic Letterboxders who volunteer to help with my spreadsheet (you know who you are), it all gets done in a timely manner.

How do you find the time to watch all those films in a single month?! Jonathan and I have never completed the challenge! Our best year was around 26. That year we got up earlier in the morning and watched the films with coffee, before going to work. That was the best. Nice and fresh and open to anything. Bonus is that we got to think about the film all day and the review-writing in the evening was easier. If it were up to me that’s the way I would watch films all the time.

What other challenges have you taken part in, and how have they enhanced your experience of watching films? Back in the day everyone was making a list tagged with List of Shame that you filled with all those “You seriously haven’t seen that yet?!” films. I’m still chipping away at it, but of course for every film you watch there are ten more you have to see. To help with the List of Shame I participated in Mr Dulac’s 5×5 series, where you selected five films from five directors and watched them at your leisure. It was a great way to complete filmographies. I still go to that list when selecting a film to watch.

Wong Kar-Wai’s ‘In The Mood for Love’ (2000).

What are your four favorites on your Letterboxd profile, and why? In the Mood for Love, because forbidden love is the saddest thing ever, and I could watch Tony Leung and Maggie Cheung go up and down those noodle-shop stairs all day long. The Thin Red Line, because it provides a great sense of place and it’s about the soldiers, not the war. Whispering Star because it is so quiet and touching.

I keep my fourth slot open for a rotating new favorite film that I want everyone to see. I could change these for a different set, but, oh, who am I kidding. I always feel terrible at the thought of ‘demoting’ a film.

What is your favorite or most useful feature? The watchlist, filtered by service. It is my dream-come-true feature. I sort by genre, hide short films, select ‘Stream only’ and ta-da! A list of films I’ve been meaning to see that are available to stream. (Now if only I could do the same for films that I own!) [Editor’s note: filtering by your own personal set of streaming services is a Pro feature.]

What’s a movie you’ve done a 180 on because of other Letterboxd members’ opinions? Great question. Memories of Murder is one of them for sure. I couldn’t figure out what the big deal was when I first saw it, but so many of my friends gave it five stars that I watched it again and understood. And just this week, Moaning_Slug posted an interesting comment on my review of Buñuel’s Viridiana that actually makes me want to take another look.

What’s a movie you’ve really had to dig in on your feelings about, despite what everyone else on Letterboxd thinks? I am not easily bothered by or influenced by others when it comes to the films I love or despise. I seriously disliked Her and Boyhood and pretty much anything by Wes Anderson and all the high ratings have zero effect on me. The technical prowess of a film would never be something that could change my mind (here’s looking at you John Wick: Chapter 2 and 3). What would make me take a second look is if someone were able to point out that I missed something about what the film was saying. I’ve yet to review Jojo Rabbit because while I think poking fun at someone who aspires to dictatorship might actually prevent it from happening, I don’t know what to make of it when it’s making light of a historical or current [aspiring dictator]. Reading reviews about this could definitely influence my take on the film.

Colin Firth in ‘Pride and Prejudice’ (1995).

What’s your go-to comfort movie? The one with Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy, the one with Chris Pratt and the talking ‘rat’, and the one with Tony Leung as badge No. 663 starring the Mamas and the Papas.

If and when you go to the cinema, where do you prefer to sit? Behind the shortest person in the room, near the back (I hate looking up—it’s a neck thing).

You’re Canadian. What’s the best Canadian film of all time? South of Wawa, about a donut-shop waitress who receives tickets to a Dan Hill concert in Toronto for her 35th birthday. Okay, so it’s not the “greatest film of all time” but it is my favorite, and it’s got the best last line ever!

These are the Canadian films I’ve seen in order of preference, this is a substantial list of Quebec films and [Letterboxd member] puffin has an extensive Canadian films list (stops at 2018). And I must mention these NFB short classics: The Cat Came Back, The Sweater and one of the most beautifully animated shorts, The Man Who Planted Trees.

When Parasite won Best Picture, what was the reaction in your household? We tested the bounce on our floor boards at Best Director. We tested the bounce on the ceiling boards at Best Picture.

Please recommend three other Letterboxd members we should follow. I can’t count, so here goes. I think everyone should follow Punq for the sheer number of films he watches and reviews, but mostly because I don’t think there is a film made before the 60s that he hasn’t seen. Graham Williamson is a good bet as well. His tastes are eclectic and his reviews are always packed with good observations and information. And I also have to recommend fellow Canuck puffin. I don’t know how he manages to watch so many films and review them. I always enjoy reading Melissa Tamminga, who asks questions and is very thoughtful in her reviews, and I have a soft spot for Peter H, who again personalizes his reviews. Nepotism be damned, Jonathan White always writes honest, interesting and personal reviews.

You also round up Letterboxd members who attend TIFF each year—what’s been a good thing about meeting Letterboxd people in real life? It’s great! Without naming names, I discovered that I could drink a 6'2" Norwegian under the table; a particular New Yorker is so stingy with his ratings that when he gives anything beyond three and a half stars you just have to watch the film; and a New Zealander personally knows anyone who is anyone in the industry over there and can give you all the dirt! Whenever we consider not doing TIFF we are always reminded that it would involve missing our Wednesday meet-up (as well as most other nights where we undoubtedly meet up for beer and film-related arguments), and we easily change our minds.

P.S. In the spirit of connecting Letterboxders… before the TIFF list I thought it would be good idea to create a ‘Letterboxd in [insert City]’ list, Toronto being the first one. It took off, and many users from different parts of the world created lists for their cities; the tag is letterboxdcity.

The March Around the World challenge starts 1 March 2020. Tag your list with ‘30 countries 2020’ and it’ll be added here.

[demyrie]

On Synchronicities, or 'Winks from the Universe'

Hello from semi-hiatus! Things have been intense lately, very up and down and faith and despair and AAAAAA, so I wanted to go woo again and talk about synchronicities, or “winks”.

I call them winks because that's what it feels like -- remember when you were in a guessing game or a mystery, and you tentatively said something and got a wink in response? Remember that jolt of excitement, or celebration, or confidence like YES I WAS RIGHT? At least in USA culture, a wink means keep going, yes, you're getting it.

Turns out, the universe can wink at you, too!

The universe works on harmony or disharmony, frequencies or vibrations, in which our frame of mind plays a huge part, and often produces “synchronicities” -- the seemingly random or unlikely coincidences that catch your attention. When you align with your highest path, other things around you will align to show you: yes, this is it! You're getting it! You're in the swing of things, you're dancing to your own tune!

Winks are different for everyone. Me, it's numbers, which uhhhh makes sense with my profession, but the whole world is a canvas for synchronicities to show up on. Some people see certain animals more often whenever they're “dancing in tune”, and I know I always feel a warm hand over my heart when I see a squirrel doing something cute -- one of the advantages of having a very, very common spirit guide! But that's just … nice. Winks are discrete and joyous reminders to be in the moment and TRUST, and though I'm not much into strict numerology, they mostly appear to me in numbers.

For example: Whenever I'm counting medication and I pour a perfect amount, I always make a point to remember what I was thinking about when I poured. Have you ever had to count 63 tablets, and got EXACTLY that weird number with two shakes of the bottle? Trust me, it feels good. It felt good to the universe, too, and you're sharing a moment of perfect timing, belonging and allowing. You didn't shake too much. You didn't double guess yourself.

You just did, and it was perfect.

Winks say, go with your instincts. Winks say, trust yourself, keep going, good job. Winks say, this is how it is. You can have this.

This morning, I was on my way to a work location that was a) very far away and b) I’d had a stressful experience at last time and c) my cars engine had been acting a little funny, so it was not a calm voyage. I was worried. I was worried about my shift, my car, and deeply, especially worried about my books. It was one of those days where you step back and look at this thing you've poured so much time and love and WANT into, and pick it up by the ears and ask “is this trash?”

It's not a productive kind of worry. It's gross and sad and debilitating and an exorcism of deeper fears of worth -- because if I make trash, what does that make me?

So, even though I almost talked myself out of it, I stopped into Wawa for some food before my shift (because I'm an hour early, because anxiety).

(TW: eating disordered thinking)

I'm a mess in my head, so naturally I'm a mess in the Wawa too. I'm grabbing things left and right, mostly sweets, but when I get to the counter and see some mostly-healthy (or at least FILLING) breakfast sandwiches, I have a burst of regret.

Should I get one? Was it too much? Ah, FUCK, should I put everything back because I don't deserve any of it?? Maybe I don't deserve breakfast, maybe I'll just keep myself in line until lunch.

It's easy to see how my thoughts spiralled into what I was really feeling, projecting like this into a goddamn gas station sandwich, but I grab one.

Fuck it, I'm an adult and I have money and I need to eat, I thought, and when the cashier rang up my sporadic collection of anxiety sweets and borderline breakfast, the total was $11.11.

I instantly smiled. It was a stupid, happy, sheepish smile, and my shoulders dropped. It was a wink from the universe, or in this case a nudge.

The message wasn't: “buy sandwiches forever and you will never struggle with your self-worth and purpose!”.

It was this: “Shhh. Eat. Take care of yourself. The thoughts that led you to get the sandwich -- in PERFECT combination with every other random thing you grabbed -- are correct. Even these little wild decisions are correct, no matter how lost you may feel. You are deserving. Also eat the goddamn sandwich.”

Now, just an hour or two ago, when I was teaching a tech how to do data entry, I looked up and it was 11:11am. I love teaching and I love helping others. It's definitely part of my path. I smiled again, and plunged forward into my day with enthusiasm and love, knowing I was supported.

It's amazing how just that mindset can change the way your whole day progresses! Trust is a hell of a thing.

It's even funnier when you start to share wink languages with people. My starmate was having a heated text conversation with me re: creativity. When she boiled over and came to the conclusion of “I think we just need to DO US, you know??”, the timestamp was exactly 4:44 -- a number of completion, stability and home. When I alerted her to it, she flipped, but not in the good way. She's been getting nudges and winks like this so long it sometimes feels like a smug or even nagging mother and she poured out an alphabet soup of frustration, like I KNOW OK?? AAAA!

Being magnificently and fearlessly yourself is easier said than done, sometimes. “OKAY, universe!” is a common phrase of ours, as bratty as we possibly can make it :) with love in our hearts of course! Sometimes there's a bit of freedom and humor to be found in playing up our roles as children in this big old sandbox, and whining is totally accepted… as long as you plan to pony up in the end.

In that vein, I had one or two nights where the energy was VERY high and I would wake up at every synchronicity on the dot: 3:33am, 4:44am, and was very tired and grumpy as a result even as I knew the universe was pulling out all the stops to pat me on the back. I'm just a human, this is great and intense and magical and all but I. Need. Sleep!! (Pearls before swine, clearly…)

Another time, I was having another crisis of faith regarding family, and love that doesn't come easily to me. There wasn't any particular trigger, but I was angsting vaguely and even worrying about secretly being a sociopath -- and then I got a customer with a birthday of 11/11, and their change? $4.44!

Obviously I get certain numbers more than others, but the message is always the same: You're doing great sweetie.gif!

You're doing what you're supposed to be doing. It's okay. You're okay. Keep your chin up. Breathe. Allow.

Winking can be a comfort, a reminder that you are loved and supported in all things -- especially feeling your feelings as they are, not as they should be.

So, winks are cool. Once you find your wink language, catching one is like a burst of pure energy: a ringing endorsement from Your Biggest Fan, the Universe 💕🌠

The one thing I would caution with winks, however, is not to look for them.

I know it's difficult, but it literally defies the premise: stressing about being perfect immediately breaks your perfection, like sports players who get the “yips”. The little miracle is you looking up at the clock at EXACTLY that time, because you were meant to, because your perfection is too much to go uncommented on. NOT getting winks doesn't mean you're doing poorly, but those of us with negative mindsets may suffer from what is essentially just another thing to miss out on. Which, again, mindsets and expectations.

Sometimes I'll catch a 3:34 and feel disappointed, and that's just silly. It's not about math. It's about the moment, and there are thousands of moments in any given day. Just do you. Just rock, and hope, and reach for the things that make you glow inside.

It's a cherry on top. Sprinkles. A high five. The more and more you fall into your own perfect stride -- that isn't so much flawless as it is PERSONAL, purely you in a way no one else can manage and a little piece of what you came here to Do -- the more the universe will wink at you, celebrate with you, and urge you on.

I hope you can move just a little further into believing in yourself and your path today, even if it's just buying the goddamn sandwich. Remember, you are deserving. You're doing just fine.

😉

[emberphantom]

At some point, Dennis needs to try his whole thing that he does again, where he makes a point of leaving in hope that Mac will make him stay. (North Dakota, the plane, and he clearly wants Mac to be more authoritative.) But this time needs to be different, and there’s a look of hopelessness in Dennis’s eyes that unnerves Mac, and despite whatever ugly words Dennis throws at him, lashing out, Mac won’t let him leave. And when Dennis later asks why, Mac needs to just go “‘Cos I know you, man.”

AKSKDJGJKS okay so yes this hit me right in the feels like yes ty.

I can totally see this starting as like Not That Serious. Like Dennis just testing Mac with small things at first just to see what his reaction would be. If he panics or pitches a fit or anything. Also kinda feel like it's a little of a MacDennis hive mind thing too? Like we've talked about this before.

Dennis going to run to the store by himself. Mac's sitting on the couch watching something dumb on the TV, not paying attention. Dennis slides his keys off the table and hovers by the door.

"I, uh--I'm going to the Wawa, Mac. I don't know how long it'll take so-"

Mac doesn't even take his eyes off the screen. "Oh sweet dude. Could you grab me some more protein powder while you're there?"

And Dennis is like yeah whatever.

The next time he makes more of a show of it. Mac's in the kitchen this time which means he's closer to the door. Perfect.

Dennis makes more of a show of getting ready to leave. He jingles his keys extra loud and even puts on a jacket.

He lingers again but Mac... Mac doesn't say anything.

"I'm going to Starbucks." Dennis declares. It's almost 8:30 at night, Dennis can't have caffeine this late. That at least should raise a red flag or two in Mac's tiny brain.

But Mac, in all his infinite dumbassery, just goes "Can you grab me a frappuccino?"

And then, off Dennis's utterly dumbfounded look, adds, "What? It's my cheat day."

Over the next few weeks, Dennis's attempts at rousing any sort of fight or desperation in Mac somehow get more elaborate and far-fetched, yet vague at the same time.

He tries everything. He's come up with the shittiest, most transparent excuses for his sudden departures. He says things with a bag or two in his hand. Throwing any sign he can at Mac. He waits for something, anything like that time on the plane over North Dakota. "Dennis, wait. Don't go...."

But instead Mac just skips right to the part where he draws a number on his forehead with Sharpie before sending him on his way. Mac always just tells him to "Have fun!" Or "See you later dude!" Or "I was gonna meet up with the guys at the Rainbow any way. I'm glad you have plans too so you won't be here by yourself!"

Dennis is forced to accept what he always knew deep down: Mac doesn't care if he leaves. He refused to believe it when Mac let him get off that plane. And he should've known when Mac didn't come charging through the airport like some kind of cookie cutter, rom-com protagonist to stop him from leaving Philly for what he thought would be forever.

Fine. If that's how Mac wants to be, then maybe he will leave. For good this time.

Dennis packs a bag. He doesn't know where he's even going, just that there's no point in staying. This time when he grabs his keys and his jacket, he doesn't even try to offer a half cocked excuse.

His hand is on the door knob, poised to yank it open when

"Den, what are you doing?"

Mac's voice is uncharacteristically small behind him.

Dennis tightens his grip on the knob. He doesn't turn around. "I'm leaving."

"Oh." He can practically hear the head tilt in Mac's voice. "Where you going?"

"Out." Dennis grits out, knuckles turning white against the dark brass.

There's a long, drawn out pause. Dennis can hear the wheels turning in Mac's head. He thinks, this is it. This is when Mac finally puts his foot down. Tells him to put the bag down, that he's not going anywhere.

Except.

"Alright well...are you gonna be back before we have to go to Paddy's? I can probably get a ride from Dee but I just wanna give her a heads up. So she doesn't bitch at me like last--"

"Goddammit, Mac!" Dennis whips around in a fury. "You pea-brained, little goblin--don't you get it?! I'm. Leaving."

He rattles the duffle bag he's clinging to by its straps, a last attempt to shake something loose in Mac's skull.

"So...." Mac's mouth holds on to the 'o', pausing before forming the next word. "You won't be back in time for work?"

"Oh Christ," Dennis scrubs his free hand down his face. "You really don't care, do you?"

"Dennis, what are you-"

"I could walk right out this door at any time and you wouldn't give two shits if I never came back."

"Dude-I," Mac's dumbfounded. He looks like he doesn't know where to begin.

Dennis keeps going. Keeps ripping into him. And Mac just takes it. Doesn't say a word until Dennis pauses to catch his breath.

"Den," He says, his voice too soft. Too calm. "I don't--I know what you want me to do here? If you want to leave-"

"Goddammit Mac, I don't *want* to leave." The words are ripped from his chest before he can stop them. Crashing down around him like a tidal wave. "I want you to stop me!"

The water recede and Mac's still standing there. He takes a step forward, and then another until he's so close...

"Maybe the reason why I never stopped you," Mac wraps his fingers around the nylon straps of the duffle bag, and tugs. "Is because I always knew you would come back."

Dennis lets go.

Mac tosses the bag off to the side, his eyes never leaving Dennis's.

"Mac-"

"Stay."

Mac kisses him. And Dennis doesn't know why he ever wanted to be anywhere else.

Later, when they're leaving the bar, Dennis will turn to Mac and ask him "How?"

And Mac will just look at him and smile.

"Cuz I know you, man."

And it's enough.

[1dffchallenges]

Pure Coincidence

Written By: @tinyfelthat

Characters: Katharine/Louis

Summary: Katharine (literally) runs into Louis while getting coffee on the morning she and two of her best friends are leaving town for a wedding. Little does she know, she'll be seeing him again, and sooner than expected.

Author’s Note: I threw this together at the very last minute, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Warnings: Some language

Pure Coincidence

On the day we left for Boston, it was raining and I’d run out of K-Cups for my coffee.

***

FRIDAY, ABOUT 8:45 AM, PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA

I was supposed to meet Marnie and Niall at their apartment (after we graduated, they immediately moved in together, and I was so happy for them). I never minded being the third wheel, because they always made sure not to exclude me, except on their date nights, of course. Instead of heading straight to their place, I had to stop at Wawa for a cup of coffee, because I was doing all of the driving. We were taking my car, after all. As luck would have it, I walked straight into somebody while trying to open my umbrella when I was leaving Wawa, and I spilled my coffee all over both of us.

“Hey! Watch it!” he snarled at me.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t see you. Can I buy you a coffee to make it up to you? I have to replace mine anyway.” I gestured with the empty coffee cup in my hand.

“Yeah, okay,” he said as we walked in. “But watch where you’re going next time. I have to go home and change now. I’ve got a long drive ahead of me and I don’t want to spend the whole time sticky and smelling of coffee.”

“Me too! I’m headed to Boston for the weekend with my two best friends. We’re going to a wedding.”

“No way. I’m headed up the same way for my cousin’s wedding. Well, third cousin. Twice removed, maybe? I don’t really remember. He’s a really cool guy, though, from what I remember. But I haven’t seen him since we were in elementary school. I was really surprised he invited me. He even made me a groomsman.”

“Huh. Well, ours is a friend from college. She’s having a huge wedding, and the invitation said open bar, so I am ready for that, especially considering that the groom’s best man is my ex and I’m a bridesmaid.”

“Hmm, that really sucks.” The guy sipped his coffee. “Thanks for the coffee. I gotta go back and change otherwise I’ll get caught in traffic and won’t make it to the rehearsal dinner.”

“Okay,” I said. “Good luck with the wedding. I hope your cousin is as cool as you remember him being.”

FRIDAY, ABOUT 12:15 PM, SOMEWHERE ON I-95

“Ugh, I gotta pee,” Marnie complained. “Find the nearest rest stop.” I glared at her in the rearview mirror, and she reluctantly added, “Please.”

“The next rest stop is in two miles,” Niall said from the passenger seat as we passed a sign that said so. “Marn, can you make it two more miles?”

“Yeah, okay.”

There was a silence for a moment, so I said, “Did I tell you guys why I was late this morning?”

“Actually, you didn’t,” Marnie said.

“So, I was out of K-Cups.”

“As you often are,” noted Niall.

“Yeah, anyway, so I had to go to Wawa for coffee. And I was trying to get my umbrella to open as I left and I walked right into this really cute guy. Coffee all over both of us.”

“Mhm,” chorused my friends.

“Well, I offered to buy him his coffee to make up for the fact that I’d spilled mine all over the both of us, and we talked for a little while we were in line to pay for the coffees…”

“Coffees, plural?” Niall asked. “He had other people with him that you offered to buy coffee for?”

“No, dumbass, I’d spilled mine all over him, so I needed a new one too. Anyway, he’s going to Boston for a wedding this weekend also.”

“No way!” Niall said. “Did you get his number?”

“Nah, he was in a rush and I didn’t get a chance to ask him for it. I don’t think I even got his name.”

“That’s terrible, Katharine,” Marnie said. “Do better next time.”

I pulled into the rest stop and said, “Do you guys want anything to eat? It’s just about lunchtime.”

“Yeah, I could eat.” Niall answered, as Marnie said, “Sure, but I gotta pee first.”

“I gotta pee too,” I said. “But then we should get some slices of pizza. Are you guys good with that?”

They nodded, and Niall added, “I’ll get gas while you two use the bathroom and I’ll meet you in there.” We all got out of the car, and Niall got in the driver’s seat while Marnie handed me my purse. He leaned out the car window. “See you in a bit.”

He drove off, and as we walked in, I said to Marnie, “Whoever is done first should get in line for the pizza.” She looked over at the growing line and agreed.

A few minutes later, I was drying my hands on a paper towel, and walking out of the bathroom, when I spotted the guy I’d spilled coffee on that morning getting in line for coffee. I stopped, briefly, staring. Or at least I thought it was brief, because the next thing I knew, Marnie was standing next to me. “Earth to Katharine!” she said, waving her hands in front of my face. “Do you need more coffee?”

“Yeah, probably. You won’t believe this, but the guy I walked into this morning is here.”

“What?!” she exclaimed.

“Shhhh,” I quieted her. “You’re going to blow our cover.”

“Cover?”

“Yeah,” I said, “I don’t really want to make him think I’ve told you about him.”

“But you’re going to go talk to him, right?”

“Okay,” I said uncertainly, “What do I say though?”

“Fancy seeing you here? I don’t know! Just be yourself.”

“All right. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll meet you at a table.” I started walking away.

“And don’t forget to get his name!” Marnie whisper-shouted after me.

I got in line behind the guy, and feigned surprise. “Wow! Who’d’ve thought we’d end up at the same rest stop after this morning?”

He turned around, shock registering on his face. “Hmm, I think you’ve been following me.”

“I don’t even know your name, let alone what kind of car you’re driving,” I teased.

“Louis Tomlinson,” he extended his hand. “And you are?”

“Katharine Redwood,” I said, and we shook hands.

“Well, it’s nice to officially meet you Katharine,” Louis said.

“Likewise. I gotta get back to my friends though. I promised we’d get some pizza. I know it sucks at rest stops, don’t look at me like that,” I added as he made a grossed out face at me.

“At least get sandwiches instead. The pizza here is so sad.”

“Yeah, but it’s a tradition we’ve had since college, so…”

“Yeah, okay, I get it,” he said. “Go, get back to your friends.”

“I need one more thing from you before I go though,” I said, my voice surprisingly not wavering despite how nervous I was. “Your number.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure. Gimme your phone.”

I surrendered my phone to Louis and he punched in his number. He handed it back with a coffee emoji next to his name and I laughed. “Here, let me text you so you have mine.”

K: Katharine Redwood

Now you have my number too

L: Thanks. Saving you as a contact :)

I gave Louis a wave and returned to my friends, who, of course, had been watching us interact from afar with rapt interest. They also had gotten me pizza while I’d been talking to him, which I really appreciated.

“So?” they asked.

“His name’s Louis and I got his number.” They cheered and I shushed them. “Shut up! He’ll hear you.”

“What kind of name is Louis, though? Is he French or something?” Marnie asked.

“What? No. I think he’s probably from Philly, like us. Somewhere near there, anyway. I assume. I don’t actually know.”

“Sounds kind of pretentious if you ask me,” she said.

“He didn’t name himself,” I reminded her.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Marnie agreed as we finished eating.

We got up, throwing away our trash, and walking back to my car. We climbed back into the vehicle and got back on the highway.

FRIDAY, ABOUT 2:00 PM, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

“I don’t know why we decided to drive instead of flying,” I complained. “I can’t find a parking spot anywhere.”

“Just go to a parking garage, Katharine,” Niall chided. “Honestly.”

“But it’s for the whole weekend, and they’re so expensive.”

“We’re splitting the cost, remember? Let’s just find one and park in it,” Marnie agreed with her boyfriend.

“Okay, fine,” I conceded.

I drove into a parking garage, and found a spot. We got our suitcases out of the trunk, and walked the few blocks to the hotel where the wedding would be held. We got our room keys, and made our way to our separate rooms. When I got in mine, I set an alarm on my phone and collapsed into the bed for a short nap.

FRIDAY, ABOUT 5:45 PM, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

I woke up suddenly to someone pounding on the door. Disoriented by my surroundings, I sat up slowly, and looked around, my eyes landing on the digital clock on the nightstand.

“KATHARINE ARE YOU ALIVE IN THERE?” Marnie shouted, her voice muffled by the door. I got up and threw the door open. “Shit,” she cursed. “You’re supposed to be ready by now! We have to be at the rehearsal dinner in half an hour!”

I looked down at myself, and looked back up at Marnie in her dress, made up perfectly, and let loose a stream of curses that would’ve made a sailor blush.

“We can do this,” she mumbled. “We can do this,” she repeated, more confidently. “Go take the fastest shower of your life, and I’ll get out your dress and your make up.

“Okay,” I mumbled, still half asleep.

“Get in while the water’s still cold,” she instructed me. “You need the shock to your system to wake you up.”

I nodded and gave a pseudo-salute.

FRIDAY, EXACTLY 6:11 PM, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

Breathing hard, Marnie and I ran out of the elevator and into the ballroom. The rehearsal dinner was only for the bridesmaids, groomsmen, and close family of the bride and groom. We, thankfully, did not have to wear matching outfits for this, but Niall was not allowed to come, even though he was Marnie’s date, because there were ‘already too many people coming to the dinner.’

“We made it!” I choked out.

“Yes, and you’re actually on time,” Lily, the bride, said, sounding a little surprised.

“Actually, we’re four minutes early,” Marnie corrected her, looking at her watch.

“Hmm, so you are,” Lily agreed, and floated off to greet someone else.

Marnie and I found our seats at the table, and I looked around. I was glancing around the room, trying to gauge which of the younger men might be single, when I locked eyes with someone familiar. Rob, my ex and the best man, was standing across the room staring at me. I saw him making his way over so I turned and tried to make conversation with Marnie. Unfortunately, she was engrossed in a conversation with Lily’s sister.

“Shit,” I cursed under my breath. We’d had a messy breakup and I didn’t really want to talk to him. I’d broken up with him and I knew he was still in love with me. Every time we ran into each other, it was beyond awkward, and I was the one who had introduced him to his best friend, Oscar, the groom, which is how he ended up as the best man. Every day leading up to the wedding, post-breakup, I cursed myself for having made the introduction.

Before Rob reached the table, I pulled out my phone, desperate for a distraction and a way to ward him off. I ended up texting Louis, out of all the people in my phone, hoping that his rehearsal dinner wasn’t about to start, like mine.

K: Hey, hope your cousin hasn’t turned boring :P

L: Haven’t gotten the chance to say hi to him yet actually

Running late

K: To your own third (?) cousin’s rehearsal dinner??? Shame on you

L: Yeah I know

I’m one of the groomsmen too

K: How’d that happen?

I thought you said you hadn’t talked to him in forever

L: Idk

I think his fiancee wanted a huge wedding with a big bridal party

And he didn’t have enough friends or something

K: Oops

L: Anyway I gtg I’m about to get to the hotel restaurant where they’re having the dinner

Marnie shoved my shoulder. “Stop looking at your phone. They’re about to start serving the food. What’re you so smiley about anyway?”

“What?” I said, looking up. “I’m just texting Louis.”

“Oh, setting up a booty call for later?” she winked.

“God no! I was just trying to avoid having to talk to Rob.”

“Well, you’ve been successful. He’s over there talking up one of Oscar’s cousins. Looks like he’s trying to set up a post-dinner hook up.”

I snorted. “He’s not that smooth, I promise. Watch.”

As we spied on the interaction from afar, Oscar’s cousin slapped Rob across the face.

“Ooh,” Marnie cringed, “That’s going to leave a mark.”

“It’s what he deserves,” I laughed.

Just then, the door to the hotel restaurant burst open, revealing Louis. “Sorry I’m late!” He apologized to the room at large.

“You’re all right,” Oscar called to him. “They haven’t started serving the food yet. Just find your place card.”

Meanwhile, I’d gone wide-eyed. Marnie turned to me and asked, “Isn’t that your guy?”

“Mhm,” I squeaked.

Thankfully for me, I wasn’t seated anywhere near Louis and was able to avoid him for the rest of the evening, escaping to my hotel room as soon as it was acceptable.

SATURDAY, ABOUT 2:15 AM, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

I was having trouble sleeping because I was worried about the Louis situation and the unfamiliar bed wasn’t helping. I was going to have big bags under my eyes in all of Lily and Oscar’s wedding photos. I got out of bed, and texted Marnie to see if she was awake. She was, so I grabbed my room key and padded over to her room down the hall. She’d told me Niall was snoring like a lion so I would have to knock loudly. I banged on the door and got no response, so I hit it a little harder. Finally, I heard some movement from the room. The door opened to reveal, not Marnie or Niall, but a disheveled and sleepy Louis.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry Louis. I was trying to find my friend’s room. She must’ve given me the wrong room number,” I said in a rush, backing away from the door slowly.

“Katharine?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I squeaked.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“I was looking for my friend Marnie’s room, but she gave me the wrong room number.”

“Oh. Okay. G’night.”

“Good night, Louis. See you around.” I went back to my room.

Somehow I knew that Marnie had found out Louis’ room number and given it to me in place of her own, but I was too tired to care. My trip down the hall had actually made me sleepy, so I got back into bed and fell asleep immediately.

SATURDAY, ABOUT 3:45 PM, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

“So, Katharine, you’ll be walking down the aisle arm in arm with Oscar’s cousin Louis,” Lily told me. A weird look must’ve crossed my face because she added, “You know him?”

“Not really,” I said. “Only in passing.”

“Mhm,” she said, only half paying attention, as her hair was being done, and she was reading off a list of bridesmaid/groomsman pairings.

I was church-ready, as was Marnie, so we sat together amongst the five other bridesmaids, including the maid of honor, who were all gossiping about single men they were hoping would be at the wedding. Finally, after I couldn’t take it anymore, I turned to Marnie and asked her, “Did you give me Louis’ room number on purpose last night?”

“No!” she said. I glared at her. “I swear, I didn’t realize until you hadn’t shown up after ten minutes that I’d given you a wrong room number.”

“Then how did I end up at his room?” I asked angrily.

“Pure coincidence,” she said.

“There’s no way.”

“Face it Katharine, the universe is throwing the two of you together for some reason. And I think I know what it is,” she wiggled her eyebrows at me.

“Oh shut up,” I laughed.

SATURDAY, A LITTLE BEFORE 6:00 PM, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

We were lining up to walk down the aisle when I caught sight of Louis looking pretty attractive in his tux. While I was staring, he looked up and I turned red, embarrassed to be caught in what I was doing. Shock registered on his face, and then he mouthed “Is that really you?” at me.

I nodded slightly, so as not to mess up my carefully done hair.

The music started, and we linked arms and walked down the aisle. He said something to me as we were walking, just before we separated and went to our separate sides of the altar, but I couldn’t hear him over the music.

We took our places, then the music swelled, and Lily floated down the aisle, arm in arm with her father. She looked radiant. I took a peek at Oscar and he was smiling and crying and looking like it was the best day of his life.

They had written their own vows. Oscar went first and his were touching and beautiful, but there were a few lines in Lily’s that stood out to me more than any other bit, despite its simplicity. “It was pure coincidence that we sat next to each other in that lecture hall on the first day of that semester. And it was pure coincidence that we were assigned as partners on the final project, given that we sat nowhere near each other for the rest of the semester. But it was no coincidence that we fell in love, because you really are my other half.”

By the end of the ceremony, all the bridesmaids and groomsmen were crying. We were given a few minutes with the makeup artists before we went outside to take the wedding photos. It was a chilly day in early October and it wasn’t long before I was shivering in my strapless dress. Louis sidled over and offered me his suit coat, which I accepted gratefully.

“I saw you crying during the ceremony,” he said.

“Your eyes weren’t dry either,” I noted.

Ignoring me, he continued. “You look beautiful in that dress. I tried to tell you in the church but I guess you couldn’t hear me over the music.”

I blushed and nodded. “Thank you.”

“Is that douche of a best man really your ex?”

“Unfortunately.”

“How long were you together?”

“Too long,” I said. “Oh, no. He’s coming over.”

“No, he’s not,” Louis said. “Oh, shit, never mind, he is definitely headed this way and he has murder in his eyes.”

As Rob approached, he bellowed, “WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY GIRL?”

“Um, I’m not your girl,” I said. “We broke up in January, in case you forgot.”

“Besides, Katharine’s not a girl, she’s a woman,” Marnie said. I hadn’t seen her come over and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“I’m Oscar’s distant cousin, Louis,” Louis said, calmly, “And I saw that Katharine was cold, so I offered her my suit coat. I didn’t even know her name until yesterday.”

Rob deflated a bit. “Doesn’t explain why… never mind. Fuck you Katharine. You too Marnie. And you too Louis. Or whatever the fuck your name is.” He stomped off.

“Thanks for helping me get rid of him, you guys,” I said.

SATURDAY, ABOUT 9:45 PM, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

I was tipsy. Not enough to completely lose my inhibitions, but I was a little looser than usual. That had to explain why I was dancing with Louis the way I had all night. The wedding reception was drawing to a close. I’d had too much to drink closer to the beginning of the party, but for the most part, that had gotten out of my system due to the near-gallon of water that I had also had.

The night was bound to end with me in Louis’ bed or him in mine, but that’s not what I wanted. I mean, I kind of did, but I’d had way too much fun with him, dancing and talking and making fun of Rob striking out with every single woman he tried to hit on.

“Go on a date with me when we’re back in Philly,” I whispered to him during a slow dance.

“Okay,” he whispered back, then kissed me softly.

***

The night we danced together for the first time, it was cold and I’d run out of explanations for how we’d met.

[goalcaufield]

Biggest Mistake Yet - Nolan Patrick

masterlist 

request: can you do a nolan patrick imagine where you meet at a party through TK and you just get along great and you can figure out the rest i trust you :)

warnings: probably some cursing

word count: 2,010

“Y/N, I finally have a free weekend, you don’t have work tonight, we need to go out,” Your best friend, Travis, tried to coax you out of the warmth of your bed. You nearly groaned, but just opted to glare at him instead.

“Exactly Trav, I don’t have work which means I want to relax, not fall into some shenanigan you have planned for me.” You argued right back and you weren’t wrong. Whenever Travis wanted to go out the likelihood that it was something insane was through the roof. 

Travis just glared at you, his eyebrow raising as he tried to get you to change your mind. “G is having all of us over tonight, you can finally meet some of this season’s rookies! You can meet Nolan, him and I have gotten pretty close over the past few weeks. I think you would like him.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “Yes, because I would just love to meet the guy that’s stealing my best friend from me.” You joked. In all honesty, you were excited to meet this season’s rookies. Travis never shut up about Nolan either, so it would be nice to finally put a face to a name. It was still early in the season too, and you haven’t gone to any games yet, but you knew when you did Travis would bring you down to the team like he always did last season. You sat with the WAGs even though you weren’t one, so you gained friendships with some of the girls like Gina, Ryanne, and Crystal.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m no longer paying whenever we go to Wawa or for tickets to my games.” You gaped at Travis as he spoke. There was a smirk on his lips before finally, you decided to get up from your bed. 

“You’re a jerk, you know that right?” You mumbled as you brushed past him to go look in your closet for a suitable outfit.

“But you love me anyway.” Travis retorted.

Without saying another word, you decided on dark jeans and a black top, nothing too fancy since it was only a small gathering — so you assumed — but nothing too casual that made it seem like you didn’t try at all.

Shooing Travis out of the room you began to change into your outfit, then once you were finished with that you quickly applied a coat of mascara. Deciding you looked presentable enough, you went into the living area of your apartment to greet Trav.

“Let’s go TK,” You said and grabbed your keys from the kitchen counter. Travis got up from the couch and you tossed him your keys. If he was going to make you leave your comfortable bed he was going to chauffeur you around.

The ride to the Giroux household wasn’t too long, you and Travis talked here and there, mostly about how he was happy you were finally seeing the boys again after a few months. After the last season ended you and Travis went back to Clachan where you both had grown up together. When Travis came back down for training you stayed in Ontario, only to come down once preseason had come to a close. Now it was mid November and you and Travis were starting to get back into the groove of things.

Travis pulled into the driveway where multiple cars had been parked. You two walked into the house together only to be met with lots of familiar faces and only two or three unfamiliar ones.

“Y/N!” A few of the boys chorused as they saw you. A grin made its way onto your face as Jordan ran over to engulf you in a hug.

“Missed you, short stuff,” Jordan joked. You just smiled in return and began greeting some of the boys.

“Great to have you back, kid. Teeks is on his game when you’re in town,” Claude had said when you got to greet him.

“Oh really now?” You smirked over towards your best friend who was now talking to a boy with neatly trimmed hair and rosy cheeks. “G, tell me about the rookies.”

Claude nodded subtly and scanned the room. He pointed with his free hand that wasn’t holding a beer and spoke, “That’s Travis Sanheim, you would get along with him I think,” His finger then moved to another boy. “That’s Robert Hagg,” And finally, his finger landed on the boy Travis was with. “And that’s our little second overall, Nolan Patrick.”

You nodded, and as if on cue both Nolan and Travis turned to look at you and Claude. Travis motioned you over and you excused yourself before heading over to the boys.

“Nolan, this is my best friend Y/N, Y/N, this is Nolan,” Travis said and by the smirk playing on his lips you knew he was up to something.

Nolan stuck his hand out for you to shake and you did. “It’s nice to meet you,” He smiled subtly and you nodded.

“It’s great to finally meet you too, I’ve heard a lot about you,” You responded and smiled as best as you could.

“I need to go talk to G real quick, I’ll be right,” Travis said. You and Nolan both nodded before he disappeared to go talk to his Captain.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Nolan asked. With the week you had, a drink didn’t seem too bad right now.

You shrugged. “Sure.” Nolan got up from his seat and the two of you walked into the kitchen to grab a beer each. You settled on a bud light orange, meanwhile Nolan grabbed a Mike’s cold hard lemonade. “Do you wanna stay in here or go back out there with the boys?” You asked, cracking open your drink and sipping it.

“I’ve been wanting to slip away for a bit, do you mind if we stay in here for a few?” Nolan asked and you shook your head. You did ask if he wanted to stay in the kitchen after all.

“So, Nolan Patrick, two first names eh?” You cracked a small smile, as did Nolan, who nearly rolled his eyes at you.

“Actually, Y/N, I have three first names: Nolan James Patrick.” He corrected you. This time it was your turn to roll your eyes at him.

“Well anyway Nolan James Patrick, how are you liking it here in Philly? How’re the fans treating you?”

Nolan barely had to think before he came up with his answer. “I love it here, honestly. Sure it would have been great to go first overall, but now that I’m here and I’ve befriended so many of these guys I wouldn’t have it any other way. The fans are great, they’re congratulating me, saying they’re glad I’m here, and they’re making me feel really welcomed and I love that. How long have you been here?”

“I’m only here for the season with Travis, so just over a year. Every off season we go back to Ontario then come back for the season. The change of scenery is nice, I’m not gonna lie.” You spoke. Nolan nodded along as if he completely understood; and maybe he did.

“So are you and Travis a thing?” Nolan asked as you sipped your beer and you nearly snorted. “I take that as a no?”

You chuckled once you had swallowed your drink. “Oh god no, he’s practically my brother at this point and he’s not my type at all.”

“Then what is your type?” A smirk played on his lips and you soon found yourself smirking as well. You two clicked very well, almost too well, it felt like you’ve known him for more than just ten minutes.

“If I could sum it up in a hockey player it would be Andre Burakovsky.” You spoke matter-of-factly earning a chuckle from the rosy cheeked boy who stood across from you. “What? The kid is attractive as hell.”

“But what if he’s a total douchebag?” Nolan asked.

“Then he wouldn’t be my type, he’d be like Travis, Travis is a total douchebag.”

“Hey!” Travis yelled from the entryway of the kitchen causing you and Nolan to crack up. “Well it seems you two are awfully cozy. Was this a mistake?”

You and Nolan looked at each other, sly smiles on your lips, and you knew you both were definitely thinking the same thing.

“Probably your biggest mistake yet, Konecny.”

Another hour and a half later you found yourself alone outside on the balcony in need of some fresh air. With your drink in your hand you leaned against the railing gazing out to the city lights that weren’t quite as far as they seemed. You heard the sliding glass door open and you snapped out of your trance, turning around to see who had deciding to ditch the others like you had. You weren’t surprised when you were met nearly face to face with the rosy cheeked boy from earlier. 

“Are you okay, Y/N? I saw you leave like twenty minutes and you didn’t come back in yet,” Nolan spoke, and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” You answered rather quickly. “I just forgot how chaotic these boys can get at times, that’s all. I’m okay.”

Nolan nodded and moved to stand next to you. He leaned against the railing like you had done a few moments before and you couldn’t help but just stare at him. He was undoubtedly attractive and he definitely knew it. 

“Staring is rude, y’know,” He joked. You shook your head with a smile and resumed back to your spot that was relatively close to Nolan. You guys stood there in a comfortable silence for a few moments, but then you realized how cold the mid November weather had become. Nolan turned his head towards you but your eyes were still trained on the movie cars and the lights and all of the city life before you. “Cold?” Nolan asked. You turned to face him but you shook your head. Instead of saying anything, Nolan wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer into his body. Instinctively, you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“You know, sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I had never become friends with Travis,” You spoke quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure if Nolan had even heard you due to the sound escaping the house since the boys were so loud.

“What do you mean?” But he did, and he questioned you for it. 

“If I had never become friends with Travis eighteen years ago I wouldn’t be standing here. I wouldn’t be basically living the life of a hockey girlfriend, I wouldn’t be constantly going to hockey games, and I wouldn’t be able to see my best friend do what he loves. I would still be sitting back in Ontario and I would probably be sitting in a dorm room,” Your words spilled out before you could even stop them, but you weren’t sure if you wanted them to. Nolan was definitely going to become a good friend, and with that he would have to get used to your drunk rants. 

“Do you ever wish it was like that?” Nolan questioned. You turned your head to look at him. “That you never met Travis, that you wouldn’t have to adapt to a hockey lifestyle?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think so honestly. If I was, I would’ve gone back home a long time ago, but I’m still here and I wouldn’t want it any other way honestly.” 

“Good, I wouldn’t have met you if you did go back home,” His voice was quiet as you two stared at each other. He slowly began to lean in and you leaned in as well.

“Come back inside you two!” A voice called causing the two of you to jerk away from each other, shy smiles on your faces. 

“Let’s go,” Nolan mumbled and placed a hand on the small of your back to guide you back into the house. 

if you want a part two for this let me know!