#like it’d be one thing i guess if you already lived in a city without accessible or consistent public transport but like

[starscelly]

lol at the pwhl teams being called by their cities except not actually playing in their cities. like ik everyone is talking abt new york actually playing in ct. but lowell is not boston girl … it’s a whole two hours away without a car. you can’t even take a train or bus there. afaik. i’d personally have to take the t to then get on the commuter rail and from there? uber? walk half an hour? in the massachusetts winter?? okay.

[catofthecanals289]

NicoJack fic

also on ao3 :)

Life is more than just hockey, Jack would hear his mother say to him many times when he was a boy.

When he wanted to skip a friend’s birthday party for practice, when his grades were slipping in middle school, when he didn’t even want to try soccer or football or baseball because he already loved hockey before he even knew what those other sports were. She used to sit him down and tell him, eyes all serious that he didn’t have to play because she used to, because dad used to, because Quinn does. She used to cup his cheek and tell him that there was a whole wide world outside of a hockey rink. That he could dream of other things too.

And Jack had smiled and nodded, but he’d wondered too. What else there could be. Why he would dream of anything other than the NHL, than playing for his country like she did, than scoring Stanley Cup winning goals and collecting medals and pucks and having his name on the back of a jersey that people paid money for, and all the other things he whispered in her ear when she asked what he was thinking about while driving him to the rink.

He’d asked Quinn once, the night before Quinn left Toronto for Michigan, if he ever dreamed of anything other than hockey.

“I guess getting married one day?” Quinn had said after a pause, looking at Jack like he was slightly embarrassed about it. He’d been fifteen and if thirteen year old boys find that shit lame and embarrassing guys Quinn’s age certainly did. But it’d just been them. Just Quinn and Jack and Luke. And Quinn had shrugged and he’d said, face still a little red, “I want to have a wife and kids and stuff. When I’m older, obviously.”

“Yeah, mom would kill you, dude, if you knocked a chick up now,” Jack had said, allowing Quinn to punch him in the arm with a grin on his face.

He hadn’t quite understood though.

Girls were great. They had soft lips and shiny hair and it felt good kissing them, but Jack hadn’t quite understood the appeal of a wife. Of a girl that’d always be around. Live in your house and everything. Girls never seemed to want to talk about hockey as much as Jack which had been weird because girls definitely like hockey too. Jack’s mom knows more than any guy he’s ever met about the game, but the girls who like to kiss Jack didn’t.

Life is more than just hockey, Jack, the fourth girl he ever had sex with had told him without any of the warmth in her voice that Jack’s mom had always had for him when saying this.

She’d been pissed, hair still a mess, slamming the car door behind her. Jack had run after her, fumbling to zip up his jeans at the same time, looking back he doesn’t know why he bothered. Why he didn’t just let her go. She’d been talking about colleges. About how they should go to Stanford together, or maybe UCLA, about PennState and other places he doesn’t remember anymore.

“I’m not going to college,” he’d told her with a frown and she’d scrunched up her nose and said that he still had time to get his grade up.

She hadn’t wanted to listen about his dream of getting drafted, of making it to the NHL right after. Of playing in one of 30 cities in North America. She had been angry instead, upset because how could that be his dream, when she was imagining a future for them where hockey was nothing more than a backdrop.

“Hockey is my life,” he’d told her and he had known it wasn’t what she wanted to hear but the depth of heartbreak of her face had still been a surprise.

He’d wondered then, standing there in the drizzling November rain, if he’d ever find anyone who’d understand. That maybe there was more to life than hockey for other people but not for Jack, that he didn’t want there to be. Everything he loves is intertwined with hockey. His family, his brothers, his friends. He doesn’t know what else he could need, what else he could want.

Life is more than just hockey, Jack hears his mother say in the back of his mind when he sits on a plane to Switzerland years later, his knee pressed against Nico’s.

Nico who came into Jack’s life as part of hockey. Who’d been there on the ice in New Jersey the first time Jack stepped onto it, welcoming Jack to the team with an honest smile and firm handshake. Who’d listened to Jack talk for an hour straight that first day even though he probably didn’t expect a waterfall of words when asking Jack about his favorite goal in hockey history. Who’d blushed sweetly when Jack had teased him, almost a year later, the two of them naked, tangled in bedsheets, for asking such an awkward, weird question.

“Did you get that from hockey flirting 101,” he’d asked before sticking out his tongue and Nico had rolled his eyes but asked all earnestly, what Jack’s favorite goal of himself was. And again, when Jack told him in way too much detail, he’d listened.

If Jack asked him now, he’d probably still remember the answer.

If Jack asked him now, he’d probably look at him with that look of nervous excitement in his eyes that makes Jack want to kiss him and tell him that everything would be fine. That they’d make it in time, that there was nothing to worry about. That people have babies all the time and that Nina has got this. That she has Katja and Rino and Luca there. That she knows Nico is on his way.

“You’re gonna be an uncle,” he says quietly, giving Nico a soft smile, just as the seatbelt sign turns on again above their heads.

The last text from Luca that Nico received ten minutes ago just told them that Nina was still in labour.  Which Nico had gone back and forth over being good or bad. Good because it meant they might make it in time to be there for immediately after, but bad because well. Nico understandably kind of hates the idea of his sister being in pain.

“I’m gonna drop the baby,” Nico says, and it’s so unlike himself, this fear, this anxiousness, this nervous energy that makes him rub his hands on his thighs, that Nico can’t not steal a glance around before cupping his cheek with his hand.

“No, you won’t,” he tells him, calm and certain like Nico has been for him countless of times before.

Nico nods.

And when Nina, hair still sweaty, an exhausted, happy smile on her face, puts her bundled up, red faced little boy into Nico’s arms, he doesn’t drop him.

He looks at the baby, awe in his eyes and holds him so gently it melts Jack’s heart in a way he doesn’t think anything else ever did. In that moment, looking at Nico look at this baby that isn’t even three hours old yet, Jack doesn’t think he remembers a single goal he’s ever scored.

Nico glances up, an impossibly gentle smile on his lips, and he looks at Jack when he speaks.

“Can Jack hold him?” he asks, and behind him Nina laughs, soft and tired and happy.

“Of course,” she says, and before anything else can register in Jack’s brain, he’s holding the baby.

Breath stuck in his chest, heart beating to his throat, he feels a rush of warmth go through him that he has no name for until Nico reaches out and the baby, eyes closed, wraps its little hand around Nico’s finger.

He wants this, Jack realizes. A baby. A family. With Nico. He wants this moment and have it be theirs only. He wants more than just winning the cup with Nico, more than building a dynasty with him, more than sharing ice beneath their skates for the rest of their careers. He wants more than just hockey with Nico.

Life is more than hockey, he whispers again in his own head and meeting Nico's eyes, he thinks that Nico understands. That he's feeling the same.

Their life is more than hockey.

[naminethewriter]

On the Road, Just the Two of Us

Chapter One: A Yellow Field and Just the Two of Us

Masterpost | Next | Ao3

Summary: This was written for @dukeceit-week-2024, @dukeceitweek

Janus and Remus are living in a campervan at the moment. Are they going somewhere? Who knows. The only thing that's important is that they're together.

Content Warnings: Innuendos

🌻🌻🌻🌻

Janus watched as the wind blew through the field in front of him. Almost as far as he could see there were rows and rows of sunflowers. The sun shone down, nourishing the plants, all their little faces tilted in its direction.

It was a simple sight, you could say. But a really beautiful one.

“Janny? You good?”

Janus looked down at Remus, who stood in beside the old campervan on which’s roof he was currently sitting on and staring up at him.

“Not at all. The view up here is absolutely dreadful.” He rolled his eyes as he spoke, eliciting a giggle from his boyfriend.

“I will be up to rescue you from it shortly then!” He puffed out his chest in a clear parody of his brother which made Janus grimace.

“Ew.”

Remus burst out laughing, dropping to the ground and rolling in the dirt. Janus watched him, mostly amused, though not about the fact that they now had more dirty clothes in the rather small van. Though, he supposed, with how much Remus was running around just before he came over, they probably had already been drenched in sweat, so it hardly made a difference.

 “I’m coming up! Should I grab something?”

Janus blinked, not having realized that he’d spaced out. Remus was now sitting up, grinning at him.

“Something to drink would be nice. Thank you, darling.”

“No prob, be right there, Dangernoodle!” With that, Remus vanished into the van. Janus turned his attention back to the sunflowers, ignoring the noise his boyfriend was making. He didn’t want to know what destruction he was leaving behind on his mission to get Janus something to drink.

A minute later, Remus was climbing up the ladder attached to the backdoor of the van – well, it was less a ladder and more a few metal bars, but it worked, so what did it matter? – and carefully made his way over to Janus. The roof was able to hold them both easily but that didn’t mean they had to stomp around on it. Janus scooted a bit to the side, making room on the towel he had laid out to avoid direct contact with the metal roof. In this weather, that would be akin to burning himself and the shorts both he and Remus wore didn’t offer much protection.

Remus sat down next to him and held a nice, cooled water bottle to his face. Janus sighed, enjoying the sensation for a moment before taking the bottle from his boyfriend with thanks. Twisting the cap off while simultaneously holding on to his parasol took him a moment to figure out, but he managed. Remus watched him with a chuckle.

“You could’ve just asked me to open it.”

“I am capable on my own, thank you very much,” Janus huffed, teasingly.

“What a surprise! You capable enough that if I’d shove you off this car, you’d land on your feet?”

“As much fun as that sounds to try, dear, we’re in the middle of nowhere and you’re horrible with GPS’. It’d take hours for you to get me to a hospital with the broken bones I’d surely get from that.”

“Fine, fine, fine! No pushing you off! And I’m not bad with GPS! I just like to look for more fun routes.” He grinned, showing off his teeth and Janus couldn’t help the fond smile that snuck onto his lips.

“Of course, darling. That’s always the case without exception.”

“Aaaaanyway,” Remus said, loudly, “what’s got you so fascinated? I mean, I guess it’s pretty but it’s just a bunch of sunflowers in the end.”

Janus shrugged, letting his gaze wander over the field once again.

“Just the simplicity of it, I suppose. I haven’t seen many things like this in person since I grew up in a city and all our vacations were to either other cities or like all-inclusive five-star hotels. There isn’t much time for trips out into nature when your parents have to be reachable at all times. Plus, I always liked sunflowers. They’re not my favorite, but definitely not far off.”

Remus hummed. He knew some bits and pieces off Janus’ upbringing as the son of two successful businesspeople. His siblings and he had all the money they ever wanted but not a lot of affection. He decided now was not the time to dig deeper into that. They were out here to live in the moment, not in the past.

“What do you like about them? Don’t get me wrong, I like ‘em too, though mostly for their seed.” He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively at Janus who simply rolled his eyes and ignored the innuendo. If you can even call it that.

“I like them,” he said loudly, knowing that Remus would drag the bit out if he gave him the opportunity to, “because they’re quite unique looking. Big and sturdy. And still, they’re just as dependent on the sun. I could go into a spiel about how there’s so many different flowers to appreciate and they’re still all equal is a good comparison to how humans should respect each other and their differences but who has the time?”

Remus cackled at his dry punchline delivery and pulled him close.

Damn was he hot! And no, Janus wasn’t talking about his looks, though of course, Remus is hot in that regard as well, but right now his body temperature was more relevant to Janus. He was already almost overheating; he didn’t need to hug a living radiator.

“Dear, as much as I love touching you—” He paused to let Remus snort, because he knew his boyfriend and knew that he’d interpret it as a double entendre— “but it’s way too warm for that.”

“Ugh, fine.” Remus let him go and Janus took another sip of his water to cool down. “You sure you don’t like ‘em because they’re yellow?”

“Oh, shut up. I don’t automatically like everything yellow just because it happens to be my favorite color, you dick.” He lightly hit Remus up the back of his head which he only seemed to find more amusing. Janus couldn’t deny he was smiling too.

“I just think they’re pretty. Plus, they stand for long life, loyalty and positivity. And adoration but more in a platonic sense. It suits them. That you can eat the seeds is just an added bonus.”

“How ‘bout we get down from here and you let me eat your seed?”

Janus snorted.

“Maybe in the evening. Right now it’s way too hot for me to let you touch me anywhere.”

“Ah, fuck,” Remus said, disappointed. Janus patted his cheek and stood up, carefully making his way past his boyfriend and back to the ladder.

“Next time, tiger. Now, let’s get going. The air conditioning in this hunk of metal may suck, but it’s better than cooking out here.”

“Be right there, Jan!” Remus called after him as Janus disappeared behind the van. He got out his phone and typed out a quick text before putting it away again and hurrying down himself.

“Don’t forget to take the towel down with you, dear!”

[breakerwhiskey]

097 - NINETY-SEVEN

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

I’m on my way to Salt Lake City, land of the Mormons. I have no idea what to expect from a city built by people who don’t drink or smoke or, god, even have caffeine. Maybe it’ll be just the same as every other city in America - half of the ones back East were founded by Puritans and teetotalers.

I never had much use for religion. I remember my parents bringing me to church sometimes when I was a kid, but they weren’t that devout themselves so it never really sunk in.

And no, my weeks on the road have not changed my mind about God. Not even that weird encounter in Colorado. Whether it was a trick of the light or a hallucination I was having…

[click, static]

Who am I kidding. Trick of the light? It wasn’t a trick of the light. And I’ve never hallucinated in my entire goddamn life, I can’t imagine that all this driving has had such an impact on me that I’ve suddenly started now.

I’ve mostly been trying not to think about it. A ghost, a spirit, some kind of angel or demon…whatever it was, I haven’t seen anything like it since and I’m—

Even if it was a ghost, just because I believe in the afterlife doesn’t mean I believe in gods. And I’m not sure that’s what it was! I’m not sure I do believe in the afterlife! Maybe it was just…

[click, static]

Maybe I should pick up some Mormon writing in Utah, see if they have anything to say about it.

I have always wondered about the multiple wives thing. How does that work exactly? Even if all the women really were happy with the situation—which I’m not saying is impossible, it just seems like a system where maybe they don’t get that much say either way—I can’t really fit the puzzle pieces together in my head. Is it easier if you all have one relationship within the larger…structure, or does everyone have relationships with everyone? I mean, I lived in New York for years and hung out in the art scene, I knew people who had both kinds of situations, and it never made sense to me in those cases either. Not to say it didn’t work for the people I knew, I’m just not sure it’d work for me.

With the benefit of hindsight and plenty of time to reflect over the last few years, I’ve come to recognize that I…fixate. It hasn’t happened very often in my life, but when I lo—when I like someone, really like someone, I get a little bit of tunnel vision about them, whether I realize or not. And if I ever got that person, I don’t think I’d be selfless enough to share.

Maybe that’s unhealthy, I don’t know. It certainly hasn’t helped me have good romantic relationships. I think one of the reasons I never was really able to commit to Martha is because by that point I was already crazy—

[click, static]

It wasn’t fair to Martha. The way I was I just wish I’d figured it out at the time, either to tell Martha the truth, make her understand it was never about her or to, ideally, give myself a smack upside the head and get over whatever feelings my heart decided to develop without my consent. If I’d known what I felt back then—really felt—I would’ve done everything in my power to make sure I stopped feeling that way.

[click, static]

What about you, Birdie? Did you leave a partner behind? If the world were suddenly full of people, is that something you’d want?

I guess I can ask you about it on Thursday. Whiskey out.

[click, static]

[kirsdoesstuff]

Diluc : Snowed In ❄️

Genshin Masterlist

-Preview-

————————————————————————————————————————

Now imagine that it’s a snow filled morning, you hear fire from behind the front door before a knock. When you open the door Diluc is there with the the slightest hint of a smile as he tells you that you’re now free to enjoy the beauty of the snow. You can’t help but watch him walk away to continue helping others.

————————————————————————————————————————

Winter had came to Monstadt rather soon and with it came the snow storms. The cold temperatures seemed to freeze what it could, it was rather relentless but there were some within the city who could take the cold like Captain Kaeya and Diluc owner of the Dawn Winery.

On this particular morning it seemed like the walls themselves couldn’t keep the cold out so you would get dressed up in warmer clothes but when you went downstairs the windows were completely snowed out and one couldn’t see through them by any means. You would rush up the stairs straight to a window and you weren’t the only one with snow covering your downstairs windows. It looked like many residents were snowed in like you had guessed for yourself. It was still lightly snowing outside but a storm must’ve came in through the night with a lot more that caused all of this.

A sigh escaped your lips as there were a couple of things you needed to do today, but it was clear it’d have to wait for another day when the knights figure out how to clear out the snow. Little did you know there was already a plan on the way, set in motion to be specific.

Even if you were to escape through a window, it would be hard to get back into your house safely with what you wanted to grab. When glancing out of the window you spotted knights walking around looking at all the snowed in houses with a paper and a pencil. Seemed like they were checking out what houses were hit the worst. You lived in a corner of the great city, so it might take a while for them to get to you.

So there you wait for a couple hours, trying to distract yourself from the cold and the boredom that is hitting you from not being able to do much. You glanced out the window once again and catch a glimpse of some flames from a house around the corner and you noticed they were powerful but you couldn’t see the one making them.

You’d rush downstairs to wait, but decided make some tea to offer to those who came to the door to take care of your snowed in problem. It was the least you could do for them to help them stay warm while helping others and reward them for it.

As you’re finishing up with the tea you hear a knock at the door, which wouldn’t be possible without getting rid of the snow first. You would rush to the door before composing yourself to then open the door. Your eyes met with a set of crimson ones, it was Diluc. He was known to help the city when he was needed, but you didn’t expect him to be the one to be at the door.

He looked down at you calmly and only showed the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

“You might be the last one, but you’re free from your prison at last.”

He was known to be a very powerful pyro user, so it had to be his flames you’ve seen before from around the corner. Diluc was rather sought after, he was a handsome and rich bachelor in the city. You could smell your tea ready to go, so you snapped out of your daze.

“Would you like some tea? I started making some a bit ago since I noticed some flames, to offer to whoever knight or not.”

You would offer some tea to the Lord, looking up a little nervous since it was rather hard to keep completely composed in front of Diluc. After all there is a knight with a pyro vision, but he was definitely not Amber.

“Thank you for the offer, but I must be going to take care some business at the winery. I hope you have a fine day despite the cold, so remember to take care of yourself.”

Diluc was rather kind though you couldn’t help but feel a bit sad about not rewarding your hero saving you from your comfy prison. It showed on your face, Diluc happened to notice.

“If I finish my work, I could most likely go for some tea to relax afterwards.”

Your eyes widened with a smile appearing on your lips, all as Diluc turned around to then leave you to prepare for later. Watching him walking away was still amazing with his ponytail moving with the chilly wind.

————————————————————————————————————————

Writer’s note:

Was set up for a part two when originally wrote, which was around the time I was in my last year of high school.

Not quite sure I’ll do a part two for either, but answer rn is probably not.

The preview was originally a prompt I wrote in a twitch stream for Augichii, I first watched on the 8th of October and I finished the full fic on the 22nd of October. It was all in google fun and we were just being our silly selves. I’ll still drop in to see what they’re doing but I don’t have as much time as I used to.

Hope you all enjoyed!

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

320 of 2023

Which member of Metallica is your favorite? (Current or past)

I don’t really care about Metallica, I like only two or three songs of them anyway.

Grateful Dead: awesome or dumb?

I don’t even know what it is.

Any forums you enjoy?

Yes, there’s one forum I’ve been on in years, and it’s the only forum I really exist on.

Tweet much?

No, I hate Twitter.

Got any overdue library books at the moment?

I prefer to buy books instead of borrowing them.

Did you read Goosebumps as a kid?

I don’t think so.

Are you psyched for WoW: Cataclysm?

I don’t play video games.

What’s the best Zelda game to start with?

I couldn’t care less.

Final Fantasy games or Kingdom Hearts games? Or both? Or neither?

Neither, omg. What’s with these gaming questions?

If you had a Death Note, would you use it?

No.

Have you ever cosplayed? If so, who?

No, I haven’t.

Is “emo” necessarily a negative thing?

It’s not, but it’s not my cup of tea either.

Do you prefer to be called a nerd or a geek? Or neither? Or you don’t care?

I don’t care, I’m a bit of both anyway.

Do you have to pay rent/bills?

We split bills and my husband is the one to pay the rent and car expenses, I pay the media and food.

Do you usually pay for stuff with cash, check or card?

Card. I rarely use cash, only if necessary, and I don’t think I’ve ever written a check in my life.

Don’t ATM fees piss you off?

We don’t pay fees in Belgium. This country fucks us for money much enough already.

Is riding horses something we shouldn’t do anymore?

Ask people in Oostduinkerke, they even go fishing on horses.

Do you know anyone who never learned to ride a bike?

Yeah, my mum. She has some kind of balance disorder.

Have you ever been in a helicopter?

No, I haven’t.

What do you think about giant pandas?

They exist, it’s cool.

Do you want a cat or a dog more?

I wouldn’t mind having a German or Belgian shepherd dog, but I’m much more of a cat person and I even have two cats.

Are you afraid of bugs?

No, they annoy me.

Ever seen a kinkajou in real life?

I habven’t heard this name before.

Do you know anybody with dentures? Who?

Yeah, again my mum. Also my husband and Melanie, but she has lost her teeth in an accident.

Do you have any idea how to build an igloo?

I have absolutely no idea how to build it.

Have you ever read a National Geographic magazine?

No, but I know they existed.

What is the most popular tourist attraction where you live?

Historium, and the whole city centre. UNESCO list, you know.

Could you (willingly) go ten days without touching a computer?

Yeah, I’ve done that before.

Are you someone who puts a decent amount of emojis in their texts?

Yeah, I always put them.

Have you ever been crowned king or queen at a school dance?

School dance?? wtf.

What was the last music you listened to?

Djent, I guess.

When was the last time you had a sore throat?

I do now, it’s been a month already.

Do you know anyone whose gender is non-binary?

Yes, quite a few people, but mostly online.

If your ex suddenly kissed you right now, what would you do?

Honestly, I don’t know. He’s still one of my best friend and I still consider hhim attractive, so.

What are your parents views on your relationships?

They had a hard time accepting that their son likes other guys, but eventually they got over it.

If you ran into your current boyfriend/crush in 10 years, would you marry them?

I’m married lol.

Is your best friend dating anyone?

Which one? I have more than one. Most of my friends is married anyway.

Would you rather have sex with your boyfriend or break up?

Have sex, although it’d be only for his benefit.

Do you delete pictures of you and your exes off of Facebook?

I don’t even have Facebook.

Ever called someone a slut?

No. I don’t care what others do with their lives.

Have any embarrassing pictures on Facebook?

I don’t have Facebook, it’s lame.

Would you ever wear flare jeans?

Nope. Neither skinny jeans, by the way.

Do you text in class?

I don’t.

Do you edit your profile pictures before posting them?

I use my photoediting skills for my photography account on Instagram.

What is one thing someone could say to you right now that would make you cry?

Nothing. I don’t cry.

How kinky are you?

Not at all. I’m a boring dude.

Can you change oil in a car?

Yes, I can.

Do you wear a bath robe?

I don’t.

Black olives or green olives?

No olives, ew.

Are rollercoasters scary or thrilling to you?

Scary.

Can you do a cart wheel?

Not anymore. My left arm is weaker.

Do you ever find things annoying if too many people like it?

No, I don’t care who likes what.

Which do you like better: cacti, palm trees, or maple trees?

Maple trees.

What type of tree do you see most of where you live?

Linden trees, chestnut trees, maple trees.

Have you ever seen fireflies?

I can’t recall.

Have you ever picked out a song to listen to on a juke box?

No, are they even still a thing?

When’s the last time you were genuinely freaked out?

Today. I lost my wedding ring somewhere and I can’t find it.

Have you ever thought that you were honestly going to die?

Yes, and I almost died for real. I suffered a brain haemorrhage that day.

Animal you like to watch but sort of creeps you out?

...what?

Whose name might you have tattooed on your body?

No one’s. Maybe my sister’s, if I had to choose, but I don’t like the idea of tattooing names.

Who might you send a selfie to?

My husband or my sister, or Nielsje, because they know what I look like. Not like I enjoy taking selfies lol.

Ever had a friend online for a long time without seeing a photo of them?

Yes, I’ve had one like that. It was when I was younger, and now I’m wary of online friendship.

Do you check the weather forecast regularly?

Yeah, but still I don’t dress properly.

Did you go to AM or PM kindergarten?

Mornnongs to afternoons, like everyone here.

Have you ever given birth?

I’m a dude, I don’t think it’s biologically possible.

Is your mom mentally stable?

Nope, far from it.

Did you start listening to more Michael Jackson after his death?

No. I always liked a couple of his songs, but I didn’t immediately become his fan after he died.

What song reminds you of your best friend?

Juno by Tesseract.

What was the last kind of snake you saw?

I don’t remember seeing a snake in person, but I’ve seen many slowworms in my life, and they don’t count as they’re lizards, not snakes.

Do you think you’d make a good parent?

Nah, I’d rather make a cool uncle.

What’s something most people don’t know about you?

That I have epilepsy. They don’t know because I take medication to prevent seizures, but my family and direct workmates have to know so they can help me if needed.

Could you seriously have sex using a colored condom?

Yep. Who cares about such things anyway.

What’s your least favorite flavor of candy?

Strawberry and cherry, which is weird because I love fresh strawberries and cherries.

How has your health been lately?

Better. I had to stay in the hospital for two days in February, because they messed up with my meds, but since readjustment, I’m doing okay. I just have to remember that my disorder is incurable and I can only block the symptoms with medication.

Your significant other or crush, do they align with any label?

What kind of label? My husband is likely aromantic bisexual, for example. I have a friend who is FtM trans man. I’m a homo-oriented quoiromantic ace myself. So it depends what this question is really about.

What shaped you most in your life as a person?

I think that brain incident and being diagnosed with some chronic, incurable disorders. I just felt like I have to reevaluate my life.

Have you made any life-altering decisions lately?

No, earlier on.

Do you think the last person you texted is a virgin? (You don’t have to tell us who the person is, just say yes or no.)

My husband and no, he had someone before me.

Do you miss anyone? If so, tell me about this person you miss.

I miss my parents, my sister, Nielsje and these two guys I know. I miss my friend who used to call me “his little brother”. Each in different way.

The last time you washed your hair, did you use conditioner?

I don’t use conditioners at all. I guess I’m not the metrosexual type of a guy.

When was the last time you visited the doctor?

February, if you count the ER in the hospital.

When did you last see or speak to someone you dislike? Why do you dislike this person?

I saw that most disliked coworker of ours last Thursday, and I dislike him because he apparently does everything to be far from likeable.

Can you remember the last time you felt emotional? What was the reason?

Last Thursday I heard one of our coworkers passed away suddenly.

Do you call your partner “baby?"

Nope, we both dislike such names.

Does your washer make a lot of noise?

What washer? I don’t have a dishwasher.

Does the last person you spoke to have any siblings?

Yeah, my dad has a brother and sister.

Does your best friend ever wear fake nails?

No, my best friends are guys.

What’s the last thing you searched on google?

One famous local actor, more specifically his age.

Have you ever seen the last person you hugged naked?

Yes, he’s my husband after all.

Do you have any limits on who you drink/eat after?

Wut?

Have you ever jumped on a trampoline in the ice?

No, why would I?

[cigvrettedvet]

lola & damian.

   damian couldn’t help but chuckle at how similar their lives really were. so similar yet their parents hated one another. he wasn’t fully able to wrap his mind aroudn that to say the least but either way, he was just glad that they were able to find one another. as he found a picnic table for the two of them to sit at, he set their food down as well and gave her another smile. “alright, i have to ask, if you could pick the picture perfect life, what would it look like?” damian said with a grin as he already started to dig into his food. whatever he said he was going to try his very hardest to make happen. if she said she wanted to go out to the county side he’d find a way to make it happen. whatever she wanted, damian knew that he would be able to make it work without his parenting noticing too much. they could both make up some white lie that got them out of the city, they wouldn’t bat an eyelash at it. “just try and picture it. i’ve been here too since i was little but i’ve never really thought of anything outside of a city before.” he said with a shrug as he poked at his food. “i don’t know if it’d do anything on a farm or something… unless you wanted to of course but i don’t see either of us trying to take care of a ton of animals.” he teased before shaking his head. “i don’t know how we wouldn’t step in shit every day, so that might be off of the list. but c’mon what’s one thing that you’d want in your perfect life?” 

             they were too alike which, in lola’s mind, was why they were so perfect for each other. no one else could understand each other like they did. maybe if their parents weren’t at each other’s throats all the time, they’d probably be the best of friends. lola wished things could be different and they didn’t have to hide all the time but now they’d be leaving soon so it didn’t even matter. as they sat down with their food, lola rested her chin in the palm of her hand as she pondered damian’s question. “the picture perfect life, huh? well, a farm is definitely out of the question. i’m not really good at taking care of anything else besides myself. and if i stepped in any shit, i’d probably go insane,” lola responds with a chuckle. although lola wanted to escape, she wasn’t desperate enough to go on a farm. “i guess my perfect life would probably be the both us living together on the beach. it’s where we really started falling for each other. it’s where we started so it’s only fair that we spend the rest of our days there,” the blonde responded before she began to eat her food. she then chuckles after, realizing how cheesy it sounded. “okay, so you have every right to make fun of me for that corny answer but i’m sticking with it. did that align with your fantasy or did you have something else in mind for us?”

[tartrazeen]

Nellis Fluff - The Stars

-

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41696913

-

“I’m Greek,” Nick had said, like it answered anything. After a moment, he followed that up like Ellis was dumb: “That means I already know all that ‘stars’ shit.”

  “Okay, yeah - but you don’t.” Ellis knew that for a fact. “First night without the lights on, you kept lookin’ outside like you’d never seen the sky before. And I know you’re gonna say it was for the zombies -” Nick’s mouth had snapped shut because Ellis had been around long enough to get that exactly right. “- but unless those zombies were in the air, it doesn’t make a lot'f sense for you to be watchin’ 'em looking up. And I know you city types only get - like, four of 'em back home, as if that ain’t saddest shit you’d ever hear.”

  “Besides the zombies eating everyone,” Nick had said.

  “Nick. Be nice,” Rochelle had warned from the other side of the table. She’d barely looked up from her book until Nick turned back away, and then she was all smiles and thumbs up at Ellis - then back to her book as Nick followed Ellis’ eyes. “Be nice.”

  So Nick had let go of his book, purposely folding the page in half - and in exactly the way that would’ve had that old librarian from Ellis’ school throwing him off the roof for just letting it happen - and not-so-politely shifting in the farmhouse’s kitchen chair to face Ellis head-on.

  Ellis had smiled at him.

  Nick had kinda smirked back.

  “Let’s go look at your damn stars.”

  “Nick.”

  … So.

  That was pretty much it: Nick got up, Ellis led him out to the front, and Rochelle suddenly clicked in to go, “Wait - Greek?”

  And then they were outside.

  Which is sorta where his plan stopped. Ellis didn’t really think he needed a plan for every step in “look up but bring Nick with you,” yet there he was.

  There was Nick.

  Here they were.

  “I can give you my jacket,” Ellis offered.

  It was the one he took from the front closet. Wasn’t the cleanest thing in the world, but it smelled a little bit like home.

  “I’m bigger than you,” Nick said.

  Again, like that explained anything.

  “I guess you got that sweater on anyhow,” Ellis said instead.

  It was a nice sweater. Definitely handmade by the lady that lived here. There’d been balls of yarn in the corner where Coach put a crowbar through her head. She was a zombie, of course, but still a hell of a yarn-worker. Ellis hadn’t thought Nick would go for it, what with it being a bright plum purple and baggy. But Nick had said it was the ugliest thing he’d seen all week, so he was obligated to wear it just 'cause it’d be funny.

  He liked Nick. He did. But the man had an odd sense of humour at times. Ellis wasn’t sure if Nick got offered a potato sack, whether he’d wear it 'as a joke’ to bitch about it the whole time or punch whoever was asking. It probably meant something that he could go either way more and more lately.

  He wondered if it meant Nick was loosening up.

  “Okay. The stars are observed. I am counting more than four.”

  Nick didn’t even finish the rest of that, which would’ve been, “When we go inside, can you tell the others I was playing nicely out here? Or they’ll be on my ass about it.”

  The part that wasn’t loosening up was still this bit. Rochelle kept swearing up and down that Nick liked him a lot more than he was letting on, but it wasn’t in a way that someone from his part of the country might pick up on. Then she swore side to side that she wasn’t saying Ellis couldn’t pick up on things, but that people in big cities tended to do things differently. The signs were more subtle than handing somebody a frog.

  Ellis couldn’t argue that too much. Nick had not appreciated the frog.

  He still thought it’d been a good idea, though. Maybe another time.

  Until then, Ellis settled on trusting Ro and decided to do what he’d do if any girl had sent along her interest - or, as he’d been in the process of learning before the world’s supply of people went to hell, what he imagined he would if it’d been a boy or something.

  It just turned out the 'or something’ was Nick.

  “How about we sit for a minute?” Ellis sat first, planting himself right on the front yard. “You look at more than four stars with me, and I’ll tell 'em you were so nice, you even let me get a story in.”

  “Yeah - you can’t sell that, kid.”

  But Nick sat in the jeans they’d raided from a store yesterday. They fit him well. They were like that weird blue-grey colour - quiet on purpose, making them loud all over again because they were on Nick.

  “The first one,” Ellis began, “is the Big Dipper.”

  “Ursa Major.” Before there was time to reply, Nick tacked on a lazy, “It’s a bear.”

  “I mean… yes,” Ellis said. “That’s around the Big Dipper -”

  “It is the Big Dipper. It’s Greek. It’s the bear’s ass.”

  “- but I figured we’d start small.” Ellis vaguely gestured to the sky. “I don’t think you know how to tell a constellation apart from the Milky Way -”

  “That’s also Greek,” Nick said, finding new interest in constantly cutting Ellis off. “It’s breast milk from Hera. Zeus stuck a kid on her tit while she was asleep, but she woke up and flipped out. Threw that kid right across the room and splashed everywhere.”

  Ellis tried to follow along with that story. He wasn’t sure what the point would be in asking, since it wasn’t like he could double-check, but he asked because…

  He liked Nick.

  And he wanted to know more, too. It wasn’t like he did everything purely for Nick.

  “Was that real?”

  “Hm? Yeah,” Nick said. “It’s the story behind it. Don’t worry, the kid was fine. He was Hercules, actually, which is his Disney name.”

  “Zeus stuck Hercules as a baby onto some lady while she was asleep?”

  “Oh, he was always doing shit like that,” Nick breezed on by. “Zeus would knock someone up, have a kid, Hera’d make trying to murder it her new past-time in-between cursing everyone who wasn’t Zeus, and then sometimes you’d get a constellation at the end.” Nick had leaned back onto elbows, looking generally across the night’s show. “Ooh. Asteroid.”

  Ellis perked up.

  “Actually, that’s a meteor -”

  “Thanks, nerd.” The silence that followed it hung between them for a while. At least until Ellis felt a nudge at his side and saw Nick smirking at him. Softly. “I’m joking. Meteor. Not an asteroid.” But just before that sounded sincere, Nick’s tone switched back and he let out an antsy, “Also not a star, though, I noticed…”

  “I was gettin’ there.” Apology accepted. “So you know about the Big Dipper. The bear. Its ass.” Nick’s smirk brightened closer towards a real smile, and Ellis felt it warming him in a far-off way. “Right. So the constellation itself - it’s really famous so you probably already know what it looks like, and now it’s down to helping it stand out for you amongst all the - uh…” Ellis wanted a complete smile. “The breast milk.”

  There it was.

  Warm.

  All the jokes, all the snark - it always lost its bite once Ellis could see the warmth coming out from it.

  The trouble was when that warmth took too long to shine through. Maybe it wasn’t faster or slower than it usually was, with how it curled around the corners of Nick’s eyes and moved along the bottom of his lips - like he would stop and stare and wait for Ellis to catch on so the snark was free to come back without having to apologize for it every minute… but Ellis was searching for it more often lately.

  Rochelle said it was there.

  Ellis hoped it was there.

  Coach and Ellis had a 'talk’ about respecting the whole group, then went off to take a nap while saying something about locks on doors.

  It wasn’t like he wanted Nick to change or suddenly be nice. He liked Nick the way he was already.

  Ellis just wanted in on the joke.

  And maybe not to be the joke as much.

  “This has been a lot of eye contact,” Nick said.

  … Shit.

  “The stars,” Ellis said, looking up, not at Nick, “are in this kinda pattern right here -” And he looked down, not at Nick, trying to find a patch of dirt to scribble in and only coming away with remarkably well-watered lawn. Nick held out his hand. “What?”

  “Use my hand,” Nick replied, continuing to hold it out to him, palm up.

  The thin flash of metal drew his eye and caught it.

  Rings suited Nick. Not because Nick was already wearing them before they met, but because they looked like the sort of thing someone as fancy as Nick would wear. And Ellis supposed that coupled with the lovingly knit sweater Nick had taken from the house as well, the cold coil of purposeful metal did seem a little funny to Ellis too - Nick cleared his throat, so Ellis tapped out the pattern.

  “These,” he said. “This is what you wanna look for. You get it?”

  “No. That was a terrible drawing.” Nick took his palm back. “Just point 'em out to me.”

  “I can’t point to 'em, Nick - there’s a lot of stars, and I’m sittin’ over here. I’ll just look like I’m pointin’ at the whole sky.”

  “Alright, well, fine -” Those words, and those words alone, were all the warning Ellis had before Nick moved. In a split between a second and an eternity, Nick was in front of him and leaning his back against Ellis’ chest, tucking under Ellis’ chin, and staying there. “Great. Problem solved. So point 'em out the way you see 'em, and I should be close enough for it to line up.”

  Ellis managed to make himself blink.

  Not to breathe - that still took another second - but he did blink.

  He kept staring on right ahead, damned by how great he could see from the corner of his eye. He knew Nick wasn’t looking at him - and they’d been walking together long enough for him to know that’s when Nick’s paying the closest attention to everything.

  And probably had a smirk on his face.

  Probably did this on purpose.

  Ellis wasn’t mad if that was the truth, but…

  … he wasn’t sure how to feel about -

  “Ellis,” Nick said. “Today please.”

  That was sure as hell one smirk in his voice. And like he knew Ellis was thinking it, Nick somehow leaned even farther back, relaxing the rest of his weight onto Ellis’ arms. Which, by the way, were trapped under Nick still.

  Which, Ellis realized, was probably what Nick would be smirking about, expecting Ellis to have to wriggle out from under him now.

  Which Ellis did, not letting Nick get the better of him like that.

  … Which meant Nick - impossibly, magically, purposely - got to lean farther back. The man silently closed the rest of the space like water filling up a cup, moving as Ellis’ arms got out from underneath, and seeming to make damn sure there were shoulders directly pressed against his ribs.

  Nick’s hair tickled Ellis’ chin.

  Which Nick must’ve thought was hilarious.

  “Um -” Ellis wasn’t making that up, by the way, or trying to sound sour. Nick, tucked up with the back of his head resting on Ellis’ neck, was quietly laughing. And that’s why Ellis’ chin tickled. “Okay. The - uh… The first one was -” What the hell was he doing again? “Oh! Yeah, yeah - the stars -”

  “The stars,” Nick echoed, apparently needing to cut in and make fun of him. “Baby steps, huh?”

  His heart was pounding.

  Oh.

  So that’s what was funny.

  “We’re not all as fast as you are, Nick,” Ellis casually tossed out. “Not all of us wanna rush back inside to read a book only our grandma would ever read.”

  He tried to bend forward a little, keeping Nick’s head where it was, but with a bit of room between Nick’s back and Ellis’ heart and how it was hitting against his ribs -

  “You’re moving me,” Nick said, with his low note of annoyance.

  So Ellis stopped moving him.

  And Nick did a little wiggle to settle in again like he was.

  “The stars,” Ellis said. Finally he pointed at a set. “Big Dipper. Leo. Gemini.”

  “Ooh. Slower,” Nick purred.

  Ellis tensed up.

  Because that was it.

  “Look - I ain’t gonna do this if you gotta keep makin’ fun of me. I’m not gonna tattle to Ro but she’s gonna ask, and I 'can’t sell’ that, remember?”

  Nick, whose own arms were crossed because he wasn’t even trying to sit up by himself anymore, gave a little wave like that was the end of it. Better than nothing, Ellis guessed.

  “Big Dipper.” He took his time with it. “Those ones there. That one. That one.” He pointed them out. “And that one. See them?”

  “No.”

  “Nick, come on -”

  “I’m a little low,” Nick said, like it was a simple thing with a simple fix. “That, or you’re bad at pointing too. But I think it’s the 'low’ thing.”

  So Nick, with his rings shining under the starlight, put his palms upon the grass, and as his wrists flexed, he lifted himself up.

  “… Nick -”

  “That’s better.”

  Nick’s ear was on Ellis’ cheek.

  His cheek.

  His cheek.

  And - just…

  He sighed and felt Nick’s head getting in the way of him shaking his own.

  Their stubble twirled around each other’s. That was a dumb thing for him to notice.

  “That’s not funny,” Ellis said.

  “What’s not funny?”

  Nick was looking up. At the sky - not at Ellis - but still, the man was probably laser-focused on him anyhow.

  “I get what you’re doin’,” Ellis started.

  “What am I doing?”

  Like the answer was 'nothing’ - the question rolled right along from Nick’s mouth like it was asking about the weather.

  “You’re tryin’ to get a few laughs out of me,” Ellis said, second-guessing it with how Nick had asked. “I just wanted to be nice to you -”

  “You’re showing me the stars,” Nick said. His arms moved so serenely in the night that even though Ellis was watching them, he didn’t notice where one was going until after it had Ellis’ other arm in his grip. “That’s very nice. Not as educational as you promised, but nice enough.”

  Ellis’ arm was being moved to wrap around Nick’s waist.

  And somehow, despite the flood of thoughts dumping out from his ears, Ellis still came up with dumbest thing to go out through his mouth.

  “I can’t point if I’m holdin’ you like that.” Shit. Shit, shit, shit. “'Cause I gotta use my other arm to keep us sitting up.”

  “Well,” Nick replied, “good news: there’s a solution for that.”

  Huh?

  And again, worse, because this one was outloud.

  “Huh?”

  Nick leaned back. Pushed back, more like.

  “Lie down,” the man said. “I’ll try not to crush you.”

  “I’ve carried you a few times, Nick. You’re not gonna crush me,” Ellis kept talking. But good Lord, at least his body knew what to do and took over, lying down. With his arm still tensely around Nick’s waist, they both got situated, Ellis almost tucking his other arm behind his head as a pillow before he remembered that that was his pointing arm.

  'Pointing arm’.

  Shit - no wonder Nick thought he was dumb. All of Georgia would’ve disowned him if they weren’t… well. Zombies. He supposed that made him the smartest one left from his hometown. Well - except for Coach. Then again, Coach was a different kind of smart, so if they ever gave out two prizes -

  Nick’s-hand-was-on-his-hand-and-he-just-felt-Nick’s-thumb-stroll-across-across-the-back-of-his-knuckles -

  “We gonna do this or what?”

  Okay - that had to be on purpose, but Ellis felt Nick giving his hand a quick squeeze. Just like that wave, this was meant to be the end of it. Unlike that wave, Nick was laughing again.

  … Nick was laughing.

  “I’m gonna - uh…” Ellis’ thoughts had gone the other way and now they were cramming back inside his brain. “… gonna need you to use your arm like a pillow or something so… y'know - so your head doesn’t have to stay lifted up like that.”

  “Aw. What a gentleman. Making me do the all the work.”

  But Nick did like he was asked and tucked his arm back under his head - and a little bit under Ellis’ neck for extra measure. The side of Nick’s face was still cozied up to Ellis’, and with an arm holding onto him above his hips, Nick seemed to balance pretty leisurely on top of him.

  “Thanks.”

  And then Ellis moved his arm - the not-pointing one - to rest his hand - their hands - over Nick’s hip properly.

  “Easy, tiger.”

  “Sorry.”

  Still, Ellis didn’t move his hand.

  Nick didn’t make him move it, either.

  He chanced it, took a breath, felt his heart pounding, felt that thumb run over his hand again -

  -

  Nick was Greek.

  So he probably knew all of this 'stars’ shit anyway.

[lilychloet]

skarsgardhqs: || @skarsgardhqs​​​

You’d hope people wouldn’t have ulterior motives with compliments and praise, but sometimes you can’t really tell. I wouldn’t complaint without meaning it though, or just teasing to make you blush. A little disarming, though I feel like I’m saying too much. It means a lot that you think I’ll do well with the role, and I’m just hoping people will enjoy it enough to see it at the cinemas also. Loss is always going to be painful when it comes to the people we care about, but we’re making them proud by living our best lives, right? But see the Lilyronomy 13:4 verse is evolving with our times, and it should probably not be used for evil purposes. I think he’s filming Dune right now, though he’s one of those who’s doing 8 projects at once, so that could be a toss up. I know he’d enjoy getting to hear from you. I think we all sometimes get caught up in taking ourselves too seriously, though I feel like as long as you can laugh about it at some point, you’re still doing well. I was so much less able to do that when I was younger. I’m glad you get that, that letting your walls down takes some work and practice at times, but I know it’s worth it for the right people. You brought a book on Madagascar? In that case, I’d love to see all these places. Maybe we can flip through it once we’re in for the night, what do you think? The view from Devil’s Pool would be incredible and I’ve been wanting to go for years. And I do love hiking so much, it’s just peaceful while you’re still getting some exercise, sort of like rock climbing for me. It’d be great hitting up a trail, then. Maybe in the morning? We can head out before sunrise and watch it from one of the peaks. Swimming at Bagni Regina Giovanna was a whole lot of fun, and I’m trying not to feel old doing this clubbing thing! It’s just I haven’t been to one in a while, but it’s nice. and perfect, someone who shares my passion for ziplining. And there’s a zipline in Capri indeed, and I’d love to do that before we have to leave. Ah, is that so? Well, I’ll just say whether London is melting or not, you’re always welcome in my corner of Prague, especially if the city’s growing on you. I feel the need to question the patchy hair just a little, but I won’t tease you too much for it. No worries about that at all, and I’ll always make sure you make it back in one piece, goes for clubbing too. I happen to think my company was quite nice also. I’m hoping that’s the case, and given we both have Tiramisu experience, we’ll each bring a lot to the table, right? Oh, I’m sure the mullet shirt will be a surprise whether I know about it or not, as it’s just one of those things. Well, I relish the fact that you like mardy. Being a good actress and all, I think you could do a lot with it. I think it’s safe to say if you showed up in that, you’d take about everyone in the gym right out.

Now you've got me curious, though, why do you feel like you're saying too much? I'm glad I've decided to come back to Prague, that way I can see more of you doing well with this role already on set! I tell myself that a lot when I'm missing my dad the most, that I know he'd be proud of the life I'm living right now and would be chuffed to bits that I'm up for an Emmy. I didn't realise that the Lilyronomy 13:4 verse is evolving with our times, and I guess I could see the reason behind not having it used for evil purposes. I'll just send your dad a text; I need to send him a photo of you in your formal suit, after all. I feel he'll appreciate it. Then pester him about working together again soon. If it counts for anything, I've been laughing at myself more frequently recently because I believe I've been acting like a numpty. We're all harder on our selves when we're younger, yeah? Especially when we're in our teen years. That's when I was hardest on myself. I've had my walls up a lot recently, but agree 100% for the right people, or person, it's worth dropping them. Thank you for not teasing me about my book on Madagascar, and of course thank you for looking through it with me. It was a nice way to spend the evening. Did I entice you a little in wanting to go? Do you have any projects after The Crow? Because if you don't, you should make time to go see the Devil's Pool, love, especially since you've been wanting to go for years. That's why I enjoy hiking as well, just how peaceful it is, and I've never been rock climbing, but I've always wanted to. I'm glad we got to go hiking while we were in Capri, though I still believe we were a little bold with our doing so the morning after a night of clubbing. It was worth seeing the sunrise from one of the peaks, so I can't whinge about it too much. And I think we did alright with the clubbing, yeah? I mean, aside from the music being too loud, I didn't feel too old. I also really enjoyed the formal with you, so thank you for being my date, it was a really great night. I'm also pleased we could fit the zipline in before we left Capri as well. That was a lot of fun with some amazing views. I'm glad I decided to come back to Prague after all, looking forward to extending my holiday just a bit longer before I have to go back to Italy and film. Would you question my taste less if I said it was more you than the patchy hair? With Tiramisu I'm strong in my beliefs that we'll both bring a lot to the table. We're going to make the tastiest Tiramisu around. Plus, if we're the only ones eating it, we can just lie to ourselves and say it's the best, yeah? You've got me on that, I think I'd be rather surprised if you showed up one day with a shirt that had my face on it. Well, when's your next gym day? I've got the dress and those heels in my bag, just tell me when and where to show up and I will. Gotta take em' all out.

[xxxsoukokuxxx]

BSD Poe x short(4”11) female reader

Soulmate au

Fluff oneshot

Reader has the ability to turn into a black cat.

Black Cat in the Rue Morgue

Soulmate AU

Character: Poe x short fem!reader

Warnings: None

Notes: Thanks for requesting and for your patience. I haven't written a soulmate AU before so I actually did some research on it and hopefully it pays off. I hope that this is what you wanted and have a pleasant day/night!

The sun was now setting and dipped itself into Yokohama's waters letting it's light drip onto the water's surface. Book in hand, raccoon on his shoulders with a pen in the other hand Poe is lost in his thoughts. The outside world doesn't exist. There is nothing but the various ideas for his novel running through his head and softness of fur against the back of his neck and head.

He jots down a few things that he could elaborate on later. The room is dyed in the color of honey and wine as the fading warmth of the sunset creates a sense of comfort. The side of his face illuminated by the gentle golden color.

Karl suddenly jumps off his shoulders and Poe's startled. His eyes wide, 'How long has it been?' he takes in his surroundings and realizes it's already sunset and soon night will fall upon Yokohama.

Poe gets up, closes his book and stretches with a sickening cracking sound erupting from his back, indeed how long has it been? He looks down to where Karl is sitting on the floor and he reaches to ruffle the fur on his head before leaving the room.

He makes a cup of tea for himself once he's in the kitchen and stares out the window. The sleeve of his shirt slides up a bit as Poe tilts his cup to take a sip, a small scarlet mark of a feline like figure on the underside of his wrist becomes visible. It's always been there but he brushed it off, that was until he came across various articles, theories and fiction books about "soulmates". And he can't help but wonder 'Is there really someone out there who'd love me? Do I have a soulmate? Or is it just a meaningless mark?'

Sometimes he'd think it's preposterous while other times he'd genuinely love that idea. But he always blushes straight after, to imagine spending such intimate moments with someone, to hold their hand, to hold them, to share a meaningful smile...it's really a beautiful thought.

Poe sets his cup down on the counter before adjusting his coat and making his way to the front door of the spacious house and opens it. He peeks through the gap between the door frame and from where he's opened making sure there are no people out at the moment and he sighs a breath of relief. Stepping out into the quiet evening he takes a walk along a specific quiet and peaceful street he likes. Evening and night are the only times he'll ever make it outside the comfort of his home without having an anxiety attack.

As he walks down the pavement a rustling noise can be heard in an alleyway which he is just about to pass. He freezes and the hair on the back of his neck stands up. From the corner of his eye he sees a dark shadow on the floor approaching which makes him panic, "P-Please don't attack me or anything, I really don't have any valuables that you'd wa-" he cut off his sentence as he felt something rub against the bottom of his leg.

Immediately he drops to his knees and buries his face in his hands, "Okay, okay I'll surrender!" he yelps. "..." Nothing. He dares to turn his head towards his left and relief washes over him, a panic stricken face now softens, "Oh, silly me. Always panicking for no good reason." He now looks at a black cat which has it's head tilted to the side out of confusion.

It was the norm for you to roam around the city at night either because you couldn't sleep or you just liked the atmosphere. If someone happened to be walking by and you felt a curious sense of playfulness then you'd just go up and show them some cat-like affection. However, out of all the times you had done so this had never happened. "How cute." he muttered, snapping you out of your thoughts. He reached out to pet the spot atop your head.

'No wonder why cats like this.' was your thought. "I don't see any collar or anything signifying you belong to someone." he said aloud placing his forefinger on his chin. "I can't just leave you here alone, hmm and Karl would have a playmate if I took you back with me...oh but do raccoons and cats get along? They could possibly..." as he rambled on you wondered if this was a good time as any to scram or reveal that you're actually a human who has the ability to turn into a cat, specifically a black one.

You slowly backed away and he noticed. "Oh no don't be scared!" he reaches his hands out to you. Ah, he seemed like such a nice person, a gentle person. You couldn't just leave like that, now could you? A ribbon of grey spun around you with various kanji on it. A bright light flashed and Poe freezes with his hands which wanted to reach out to you. His eyes widen once he sees the sight in front of him and questions everything he knows. His mouth agape.

"Hi." you said shyly whilst dusting your attire. "...you..." he still kneeled on the ground, frozen. You felt nervous but thought that after what he just witnessed it'd be necessary to tell him about yourself. "Uhm, okay I know you think this is weird but there's this thing called abilities and my ability is to turn into a black cat..." you sped through your words while fiddling with your thumbs.

Now he understands. Of course he knows what abilities are. "Oh. Ah, don't worry I know what abilities are. I have one myself." he says standing up, now realizing just how short you are. You look up, "Wait, you do as well?" a certain spark of curiosity in your eyes, I guess having a cat ability allows you to have the same characteristics of a cat. His cheeks have a faint red color on them, you look cute when you're curious.

"Y-Yes, it's called Black Cat in the Rue Morgue." "What a coincidence." you giggle. He rubs the back of his neck and sighs contently, "Yes it is. It allows me to transport my readers into my books." "Oh, you're a writer!?" another spark of curiosity in your eyes. He internally smiled at your apparent excitement, "Yes I am. Ah! Excuse my rudeness, my name is Edgar Allan Poe but you can just call me Poe if you'd like."

A smile adorned your face and you introduced yourself too. "I'm sorry about startling you earlier, I promise you I'm no cat burglar." He blinks and after a moment you both laugh at the little pun made and the situation itself. "I don't think such an innocent looking being could ever do such a thing." he blushes as he says those words and you do too.

He takes a look at his surroundings and back at you. "W-Would you...like to uh join me for a stroll? I was planning on going t-to this cafe that's opened til late?" You look up and smile while silently thinking his stuttering is rather cute. "Sure." The walk there was peaceful and enjoyable, every three seconds he would glance at you and a lingering question would be on his mind but he brushes it off. He tries to get to know you despite his nervousness and he succeeds. Even if it's just the little things such as your favorite color, where you live, if you have any pets.

You both finally reached the cafe and took a seat, he was gentleman about pulling your seat out for you and such. The only part he dreaded was ordering, that anxiousness that would bubble up in his chest made his mouth go dry and he's at a loss for words. The barista comes about and asks if you'd both like to order anything, a simple coffee/latte was fine for you. Poe looked pale and tugged on the front of his shirt. You worried if he was okay but he eventually ordered something to drink off the menu and a sigh of relief escaped him once he was done talking.

"You okay?" His eyes widens as he finally looks up at you again, "Yes. Yeah I'm fine, no need to worry. I just..." he looks down again while rubbing the back of his neck, his hair falling over his eyes. "I'm just really shy if you could say that. Or perhaps i just have social anxiety." he let out a nervous chuckle while lifting his head to smile at you. A giggle escapes you, "I think it's cute." He's taken aback but only because he's not used to being complimented and his face turns red.

The orders are served and the barista bows and leaves again. A light-hearted conversation flitters between you two and Karl comes up somewhere in the conversation, Poe saying that he'd love to let you see him. You tilt your cup to take a sip of your drink and the sleeve of your shirt rides up a bit, revealing a portion of your wrist. Poe is taking a sip too and his eyes flutter over your figure.

His eyes widen once he catches sight of the scarlet mark on your wrist and he chokes. "A-Are you okay?" you put your cup down and panic slightly. "Y-Yes I'm fine." he replies adjusting himself.

"Can I ask you something?" curiosity now lacing his voice. "Sure, go ahead."

"Have you always had that red feline-like mark on your wrist?" You look at the mark and reply that it's always been there, indeed. "I think it's because of my ability but I'm not really sure. Perhaps it's a birthmark." He smiles. "Perhaps it is." Is this what he thinks it is? No...he couldn't possibly just jump to conclusions, but certainly what a coincidence it was. The exact same mark on both your wrists and a meeting like this? A beautiful coincidence it was.

"Why do you ask?" you tilt your head to the side much as you did when you were a cat. And if he didn't think you were any cuter now he'd be damned. "Oh no, just asking." he gives a closed eyes smile.

'Soulmates. How fascinating.' he thinks while smiling at you as you take another sip of your coffee/latte. His eyes wander again to the scarlet mark on your wrist.

And the plot thickens.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Red Hood (Part 1)

Summary: While on a job, the reader runs into The Red Hood. She discovers his true identity to be Dean Winchester from one of the wealthiest families in the city. She knows he’s made a few enemies and tries to take advantage of that fact to get something she needs in return...

Masterlist

Pairing: Vigilante!Dean x criminal!reader

Word Count: 1,500ish

Warnings: language, fighting

A/N: Enjoy!

________

“Oh, crap,” you said, feeling the binding around your torso. You thought you’d made it out clean. But if it was someone using a gadget like that, it wasn’t any security guard. You grunted as you saw a figure emerge from the shadows, a hood up and a mask covering his eyes. “Let me walk and you can have the money.”

“Not my style,” he said. He walked over carefully, tilting his head at you. His cautious approach stopped when he suddenly stepped over and ripped the mask covering your face off. You scowled at him but he simply stared. “I’m taking you in.”

He bent down and you used the opportunity to swing your legs up and wrap around his neck. He went wide eyed and glared at you but you smirked.

“Goodnight Mr. Vigilante,” you said. He tried pulling you off but he lost consciousness quickly. You let him drop to the ground and moved your leg back, managing to grab the knife in your boot. You sliced through the lower bindings and eventually got the ropes off. You almost left when you saw the unconscious Red Hood on the ground. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little blackmail after all. You pulled out your phone and pushed down his hood, ripping off the mask over his eyes. You took a few pictures of the man, something familiar about him.

You grinned when you recognized him as the ward of the biggest tech company in the city. 

If you played your cards right, a week from now you’d be loaded and sipping mai tais on the beach, never having to worry about pulling a job ever again.

“Shit!” you shouted the next evening, jumping straight back into your counter. The Red Hood was standing silently at the edge of your kitchen, narrowing his eyes at you. He threw down a manila envelope on the counter and stalked over to you.

“I don’t negotiate with criminals,” he said.

“I don’t think it’d look too good if Dean Winchester were to be found out as The Red Hood. With all the crimes you’ve committed yourself. I bet that’d ruin a few of your family’s contracts,” you said. You reached up to grab his hood when he caught your wrist. “I felt I was very generous with my offer.”

“Fifty million is generous?” he scoffed. He shoved your wrist away and put his back to you, tugging his hood back. He slipped his eye mask down around his neck and glanced over his shoulder. “I should throw you in prison.”

“For stealing from rich people? They can afford it just like you can afford this. Take it out of your trust fund. I bet no one would even notice,” you said.

“What do you need that much money for?”

“What do you need it for? None of your business.”

“The answer is no.”

“Then I guess your photo of you out cold at a crime scene in your little costume will be on the news very, very shortly.”

“It’s an excessive amount,” he said.

“Your family is billionaires. You got the cash.”

“I can’t move that much without red flags.”

“Figure it out.”

“I could just make you disappear,” he said, stepping in front of you. “You couldn’t stop me.”

“You only murder the bad guys and unfortunately for you, I just steal things and knock people out. It’s not justified. Your old partner, that bat guy, even he didn’t kill people,” you said.

“He let me down, more than once. I do things the way they need to be done,” he said. “Don’t think because you’re a woman you get special treatment.”

“Wouldn’t expect it,” you said. “Give me my money and you will never hear from me again.”

“Five million.”

“No way.”

“Five million a month for the next ten months,” he said. “It won’t raise too many eyes. I can justify a cost for that.”

“Fifty. One payment,” you said, crossing your arms.

“What the hell do you need with that much money?”

“Maybe I want to donate to charity. It’s not your concern. You have three days to get my money into that bank account. If you don’t, you and your entire family’s business are going down. Have I made myself clear?”

“I will find all copies and when I do, you’re gonna have a big problem. Count on it.”

He went out your back door and you rolled your eyes, already making plans to have extra copies out there just in case.

Three Days Later

“You’re good,” said Marcus. You stared at him and he smiled. “You’re clean kid. Debt repaid with interest. Your family is safe again. Any interest in working for me again? You’ll get to keep some of the profits now.”

“I’m not meant for this line of work,” you said. “Lose my number?”

“You’re not as bad as you think. Just got a pesky conscious. Enjoy retirement,” he said. You hummed and quickly left, taking a deep breath. 

Half an hour later you were heading to the airport with five million dollars in your bank account and ready to go start over.

Two Days Later

“Nice view,” said a voice behind you. You sat up from your chair by the pool, staring up at Dean as he smiled. “Nice house. A little smaller than I was expecting for fifty million dollars in the bank. If you had fifty million that was. More like five now, hm?”

“I still have copies,” you said as he sat in the chair beside you.

“Oh, I know,” he said, stealing your drink. “Whoa, fruity and a lot of rum.”

“What do you want?”

“My plan was to hunt you down and get my money back and get you to give up the copies and get you thrown in prison. But I’ve had a change of heart.”

“Really. Just like that.”

“If you told me innocent lives were in danger, I could have been a lot nicer. Marcus is an unforgiving criminal. But even he could let a mistake go for forty five million, right?”

“I owed him ten. The thirty five was interest. I screwed up a job when I wouldn’t kill a guard. He lost the pay. I started working for him most every night to pay it off. If I didn’t, he’d deal with my family over on the other coast. He’s connected enough to have them watched. For forty five million, they are safe.”

“Sounds like you owe me five million dollars,” he said, holding out his hand. “Fork it over.”

“I can’t live there anymore. I need to be out of that city,” you said.

“You’ll come back eventually. But you owe me five million dollars,” he said. You dropped your head and sighed, resting your head in your hands. “Or you can give me every single copy of the photos and agree to never steal another thing in your life and in exchange, I will pretend you didn’t take five million for yourself.”

“Are you serious?” you said, snapping your head up. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes behind his sunglasses. “Why would you do that?”

“Why didn’t you tell Marcus who I was? That would have cleared whatever you owed and then some,” he said. You shrugged and he smiled. “I have a sneaking suspicion you’re a good person. Don’t worry, I won’t tell the other criminals.”

You reached to your left and grabbed your phone, deleting the picture and then permanently deleting it again.

“You never had copies,” he said.

“Nope. You could have taken my phone and that would have been that.”

“Then I guess that settles that,” he said. “Nice place to retire to.”

“Yup,” you said.

“Mind if I crash here? Considering I bought this place and all.”

“Why are you staying here?”

“I did something yesterday. My old partner called me up, told me I ought to take a break for a bit. He had some valid points,” he said. “No one’s ever knocked me out before.”

“I have many skills,” you said. He chuckled and stretched out his body.

“I bet you do. So am I staying?”

“You can stay if you get me a refill,” you said, taking the glass from him and drinking the rest of the liquid. You held it out to him and he sat up.

“Alright. Don’t go running off on me again.”

“I think this time I’ll stay put.”

“Glad to hear it, sweetheart.”

“For now.”

“Oh really? Where you thinking of going?”

“Home to Gotham. Eventually,” you said. He stared at you and glanced down, nodding to himself.

“How about a nice vacation in the meantime?” he asked.

“After you. Sweetheart.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[welcometodiehop]

What Makes Us Human- (Solomon x MC)

GN MC x Solomon

A/N: I planned on making another series but I got stuck, so here’s a little thing after I listened to something and had some thoughts

If you learned anything from Solomon, is that learning magic is tiring. After the last time of a spell exploding in your face, you both decided to call it quits for the day. Quite frankly, you needed the break, and decided just the thing to help you and your beloved mentor to unwind. Being as quiet as you could be, you prepared some sandwiches and snacks to prepare a picnic basket without him noticing. Grabbing the basket you peek into Solomon’s study and gently poke him and ask if he would like to enjoy the evening air with you. He looks at you in surprise.

“You already made the basket? Ah, it’s a shame I couldn’t help you. I recently came up with a great dessert recipe of your favorite.”

You tried your hardest to repress the anxiety you felt at the statement. Hopefully you can pass it on to someone else secretly before you can hurt his feelings. Shaking it off, you grabbed Solomon by the arm excitedly and headed out on the town in the brisk evening air.

It was a bit of a trek, but you finally ended up at your favorite secret spot: a hill looking over the whole town, perfect enough to watch the sun go down.

“I can’t believe I haven’t shown you this spot before. It’s gotta be the coziest part of the whole city.” you say to him, flashing him a wide grin.

You set down your basket and set up your blanket, sitting down and enjoying the cool breeze. The devildom was nice, you considered it your home away from home, but there’s just something not quite like the human world.

“Do you come here a lot?” Solomon asks.

“Yup, usually to relax and do some thinking. It’s nice to get away from all the chaos from lives like ours.”

Solomon chuckles at the thought. “Yeah, you’re definitely right. Thank you for showing me this place.”

Time goes by, enjoying the homemade food brought for this excursion when a thought hits you.

“Hey Sol, what do you think makes the Human world special?”

He looks at you quizzically. “What’s this all of a sudden?”

“Dunno, just a thought. It’d be one thing to ask the demons or angels, but I think it’d mean the most coming from you.”

At first Solomon doesn’t know how to respond. A thoughtful “hmmm��� escapes his lips as he closes his eyes and ponders.

“I guess I’d have to say its resilience.” he answers.

“Oh? How so?”

“Well, I’ve lived a pretty long time. I’ve seen whole civilizations come and go, but I always found it amazing that despite everything- war, famine, disease, and so on, people can find a way to persevere, if that makes any kind of sense.” He says.

“So what I got from this is that you’re an old fart.” you tease

“Oh shut it, you.” He playfully pushes you. “So, what about you? What do you think makes us so special?”

You tear your gaze away from him and look out towards the horizon. The answer seems to come to you naturally.

“Hm. I guess it would have to be the sort of freedom of choice we have. Demons and angels tend to influence us one way or another, sure. Ultimately, though, it’s up to us to choose what life we want to live.”

His lips part as you reach for his hand and look back at him, smiling.

“ And the fact that most of us choose to love is pretty cool too.”

“ (Y/N), I-“

Before he finishes his thought, you place a chaste kiss on his lips. He reciprocates, cupping your cheeks gently. Now just inches apart, he looks deeply into your eyes, gaze filled with love.

“ Speaking honestly, before you it feels like I’ve completely forgotten what this feels like. Immortality is cold and lonely existence.” he whispers.

“ I’ll always be with you Solomon. Whether I’m alive or gone from this world. Today, tomorrow, and forever.”

[thebiggestfan1]

Are you in town? - Matthew Tkachuk (part 3)

part one here

part two here

This is the last part of this mini-series and I hope you enjoyed it! Requests are open btw, so don’t be afraid to ask for an imagine with any NHL player :))

Word count: 1464 words

TW: mentions of sex, language

...

The thing that woke you up was the bright light shining through the windows.

Shit. What time was it? You probably should have been already working - for hours.

As you looked around yourself, you started realizing this wasn’t your apartment. Everything here looked so blank and expensive and then you remembered that-

That you kisssed Matthew while he was drunk. That you fucked Matthew while he was drunk.

You groaned silently, still too sleepy to actually cry. What had you done?

You thought you were okay with staying just friends. But here I am, you thought to yourself as you climbed out of the bed.

Your body felt sore and relaxed at the same time. It was a long time since you slept with someone and actually enjoyed it like this. And even though you should be ashamed of yourself, you let yourself enjoy that feeling.

Just then you realized that the other side of Matt’s huge bed was already empty and cold. There was no sign of him in the living room or in the kitchen - he probably left a long time ago, maybe already preparing for his upcoming game.

But the smell of him lingered on the sheets like a distant memory, bringing back the thoughts of yesterday's events. His hot skin touching yours, his warm breath caressing your breasts...

Shit.

Just... shit.

And so you put on your yesterday’s clothes, write a quick note for Matt and leave his apartment without looking back.

...

It’s been two weeks since you woke up at Matthew’s apartment. Since then, you ignored his calls and texts, pretended you weren’t home when he knocked on your door and worked overtime when he waited for you at the reception.

Yes - it’s not ideal but it worked for 14 whole days. And it gave you some time to think.

As you were leaving your office, thinking only about going to bed, you realized you didn’t check if Matt was waiting for you - but too late. A hand gripped lightly your elbow, making you halt in your tracks.

“Y/N, why the fuck are you avoiding me?”

He sounded a bit angry but mostly tired and hurt. He looked tired, too - those were dark circles under his beautiful eyes.

And you just stood there, trying to come up with a good enough excuse.

Because we fucked, Matthew, you wanted to say. Because I love you and I’m afraid you’re gonna break my heart. Because I don’t want to lose you or our friendship. But wouldn’t avoiding him for a few more weeks destroy your friendship as well?

“You can’t- you can’t just leave, Y/N. What happened happened and if you want to, we can ignore it but you can’t just keep walking around it. You can’t just leave like I did all those years ago. And I’m so so sorry I did so and it’s totally my fault if you feel like I might do that again but you have to trust me that I have no reason to do so.”

Matthew looked... scared. Was it because he was afraid you’d leave him behind? Afraid of tasting his own medicine?

You still didn’t know what to say. You wanted to believe all he was saying but the memory of you crying when he abandoned you was still playing in your head. He did so just because of some stupid promise he told nobody about. What’s stopping him from doing so again?

“I panicked when I came back home that morning - I went shopping because I had no food at the apartment and I wanted to make you a perfect breakfast. And when I came back, you were gone and all you left behind was a note with only one word on it - goodbye. So yeah, I panicked. Of course I panicked. And I know I’m the reason you did it but I have no idea how to make things right. I don’t know how to make you trust me like you once did...” Matthew tugged at his curls, his hair all messy. He let out a sigh, trying to avoid your searching gaze.

"Matt-" you stopped your arm from touching his hair even though you wanted to comfort him so badly. It'd be so easy to let yourself trust him. Too easy; and that scared you more than anything. "I need time. Just- just take me out for dinner or something. We'll take things slowly and then we'll see how that turns out."

He looked at you as you spoke, watching the shape of your lips while nodding slowly. A small smile formed on Matt's lips and he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. Your cheeks went red a bit as you realized he'd do whatever you needed and won't ever ask for more than you're prepared to give him. The night two weeks ago wasn't your fault; it was yours. Matthew was drunk and never forced you to do what you did. It was you who ruined things.

"Do you have time right now?"

"Yeah, I guess." you answered, smiling up at him.

"Then I'll take you out for dinner."

Hand in hand, you realized it'd be so easy to get used to the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

...

A month later, Matt took you to a lunch with his family. It was a long time since you've seen any of his siblings so you were super excited - but also super nervous.

You two took things really slow. Matt took you out every day if he had the time and hasn't even kissed you once. Sometimes, you wanted him to do so. Sometimes, it was the only thing you could think of.

The nostalgia hit you as soon as you saw Chesterfield again. You closed your eyes, already knowing where would the car turn on the road. You kind of missed this city - it reminded you of your childhood and of Matthew.

He was sitting next to you, driving the car, one hand on the steering wheel and the second on your thigh, drawing cirles on your jeans.

"Do they remember me?" you asked, your eyes still closed.

"Of course they remember you," Matt murmured and sang a few lines of the song playing on the radio - your song, one from the playlist on the USB that was hidden for years in the time capsule.

After Matt got drafted, you stopped talking to his family. You were mad at all of them even though it was a stupid thing to do. But now as an adult, things would be different. Yeah, you probably could be mad at Matt's dad for all the things Matt wrote you in that letter but... He only wanted his son to be happy - you'd probably do the same.

So, when the car stopped, you got out and greeted his family as nicely as you could. It took you some time to recognise Taryn as she hugged you, because last time you saw her, she was just a kid. And now... She and Brady were both adults.

"Nice to meet you again, Y/N," said their mom, Chantal as you shoot hands. Her husband smiled at you from the table where all of them were already seated and Matthew wrapped one arm around your waist as he pushed back the chair for you.

Everyone talked, laughed and enjoyed the autumn day with bright smiles on their faces. None of them seemed to mind your presence and you felt like a part of this happy family.

Halfway through the lunch, Matt pushed his chair closer to you as he whispered into your ear:

"What are you thinking about?"

You looked at him, at his bright eyes and eased smile. At the way he touched your hand and tucked your hair behind your ear. And you realized how much he cared for you and that there was nothing that could keep you two apart this time.

No more tiptoeing. No more 'taking things slow'.

"I'm thinking about how I trust you more than I trusted anyone in my life. I'm thinking about how I love you more than I loved anyone in my life."

His smile was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. It was full of love and care and you didn't realized you were crying until Matt wiped the tears off your cheeks.

"You want to know what I'm thinking about?"

You simply nodded.

"I'm thinking about our future and about how happy you make me, Y/N. I'm thinking about how lucky I am that I can call you mine. I love you so much, Y/N." he whispered, taking one of your hand in his and intertwining your fingers.

"I love you too, Matt. And I promise I will never say goodbye to you."

[deadbiwrites]

a video of supergirl grabbing lena luthor's ass starts circulating and it's very embarrassing for sc but extremely funny to their friends

(I am SO sorry. Where do these hide? Why do I never see them? How long has this been here?!

Anyways, have some cute nonsense!)

The day starts like any other, honestly.

Like, sure, Kara’s never thrilled when she wakes up 20 minutes late and has to use superspeed to get through her morning routine and into the office on time, but it happens regularly enough that she’s just sort of used to it by now. Like, the sky is blue, the grass is green, she manages time poorly. Whatever.

But she does get to work on time, with just enough to spare that she can make a brief detour to Nia’s desk for the coffee her protege has already bought for her, thank her profusely (with perhaps minor promising of firstborn children), and slip into the morning meeting just as Snapper, James, and Lena start handing out assignments for the day.

“Well, well, good of you to join us, Ponytail. Let me guess, a family emergency kept you out all night again?”

‘I mean, that Abraxian wasn’t my family, technically, but someone’s family, so…’ “Something like that. Sorry.”

Lena catches her eye and quirks a brow in question, but Kara just shrugs easily and sips her coffee, pulling a silly face at her friend when Snapper’s attention moves away from her. When her eyes uncross, she can tell Lena is fighting not to laugh, eyes sparking with mirth as she bites her lip. Kara takes another sip of coffee, feeling a bit smug that she can get Lena to smile without even having to say anything to her. That’s real talent, right there.

Especially since Lena has to stand up at the front with James, who has been by turns cold, dejected, and surly toward her since their breakup (a big, real, final one) a few weeks prior. Lena had said that the whole thing was a mistake, that she should’ve never gone for it in the first place because she’d been right the first time- they’d had some chemistry, after all, but it certainly wasn’t compatible long-term. 

Which… Kara can certainly relate. Like, a lot.

Especially about the whole… James being kind of wounded about it part. That part had really sucked- when he’d done it with Kara, who he’d gone on like, a date with, it’d resulted in him deciding to become a vigilante. Rao only knows what he’ll do when it’s someone he dated on and off for over a year...

“Ponytail!”

Kara jumps, realizing too late that her wandering attention hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Yes, sir?”

Snapper rolls his eyes. “Great, now that you’ve stopped orbiting Saturn, you wanna go get that article started?”

Kara’s eyes widen slightly in a panic as she realizes that she has no idea what he’s talking about. “Uh…” Behind his back, Lena catches her eye and nods subtly. Thank Rao. “Yes. I super do.”

Lena snorts, James sighs deeply, and the meeting is adjourned.

**

“So what exactly am I supposed to be doing today?” Kara asks Lena as they stroll out of the conference room together.

“Well unfortunately for you, you have to interview a big-time CEO. You have a meeting scheduled with her in three hours.”

“You?” Kara asks hopefully.

“You’re very sweet,” Lena chuckles. “No, Elena Watts. She’s a real estate developer, and she runs a nonprofit organization for homeless youth. It’s one of the articles we’re doing for next month’s spread. Contrary to popular belief, Cat and I weren’t the only women with high-profile jobs in this city. ”

“Oh, that’s pretty cool! Have you met her?”

“Not personally, no, but I have donated to her charity- it’s a very good cause, especially the outreach they do with queer youth.”

Kara elbows Lena gently. “You’re such a softie.”

“Mmm, maybe. But if you tell anyone, you’re fired.”

Kara clutches a hand to her chest, feigning horror. “Why Miss Luthor, what a blatant abuse of power!”

Lena shrugs. “I’m a Luthor, darling, I have to keep up appearances somehow.”

“Ouch,” Kara laughs. “See you at lunch?”

“Only if lunch includes a milkshake- I have a teleconference with both boards today. Unless you feel like joining me?”

“Wow, well as fun as that sounds, I’m gonna go do literally anything else.” Her comms crackle to life, alerting her of a hostage situation downtown, and Kara sighs. So much for a work day. “Alright, well, I’m, um, gonna go… see what I can find on Elena Watts. Maybe over another cup of coffee at Noonan’s.” She widens her eyes a bit, trying her best to convey that she’s going to be on Super-duty for a little while.

Thankfully, Lena picks up on it and grins. “You just want sticky buns.”

“Lena, I always want sticky buns. They’re like, my second favorite thing to eat.”

“Oh? What’s the first?” Lena asks, voice just a bit lower than usual. 

Kara opens her mouth and closes it, flushing slightly as she averts her gaze and adjusts the laptop bag on her shoulder. Stuff like that has been happening more and more, and she’s not 100% sure what to do about it. Because on the one hand, it makes her stomach do flips and tie up in knots and makes her brain do this… staticky thing where nothing filters in or out, just a pleasant buzz of how funny and smart Lena is and how much Kara likes hanging out with her and being flirted with (because that’s definitely what’s been happening, even if neither of them is really ready to address it) and just generally looking at Lena.... who is currently biting her lip and grinning up at Kara, and that buzz makes her kinda dumb, which is just really unhelpful. But on the other hand, it’s also kinda awesome and Kara really enjoys it, and-

“Kara?”

She spaced out again. Crap.

“Um. What time are you free for lunch?”

Lena sighs, seeming slightly disappointed that Kara isn’t flirting back at the moment (and thank Rao Lena can’t read minds), but she smiles back easily enough as they step off of the elevator. “I should be done by two.”

Feeling emboldened, Kara turns so she’s walking backwards in front of Lena and grins. “It’s a date,” she says with a grin, ducking forward to press a quick “friendly” kiss high on Lena’s cheek. She whirls and jogs out the double doors, leaving Lena smiling exasperatedly after her.

**

It is genuinely baffling to Kara that people still commit crimes in National City. It’s not even an ego thing, really, since Kara tries to keep herself humble (even when she manages to wrap up a hostage situation within twenty seconds of arriving on-scene without injuring any of the criminals or damaging the building too badly). Like, yeah, she gets that there’s a certain element of crazies who just sorta gravitate to places with a local hero, the big-bads who have their own suits and geek-toys and abilities. Them, Kara gets. Kinda sorta. But the regular ones, who are armed with like, pistols? Or knives? Just regular man made stuff without even the benefit of magic or kryptonite or something?

Why? 

She’s sure that if she asked, Lena would have some sort of statistical thing about large cities and poverty and all sorts of other factors that would end up making Kara feel like a jerk for being uncharitable to the criminal element of her city, but at the moment she’s mostly too annoyed by the fact that she has to spend her weekdays chasing them around instead of chasing stories.

Once all the hostages are freed and the cops secure the scene, Kara departs, flying into the alley behind Noonan’s and changing into her regular clothes before she heads inside to do a bit of research before her meeting with Elena Watts in a few hours (just because she’d used it as a cover doesn’t mean it was a bad idea…). She finds her favorite little two-person booth tucked into a quiet corner, plugs in her laptop, and gets to work, asking the waitress to please keep both the coffee and the sticky buns coming.

She gets a surprising amount done by the time she needs to leave for the interview, having a good foundation for what she wants to write and who Elena Watts is.

Ms. Watts turns out to be a pretty nice lady around Eliza’s age, if a bit busy and distracted by the steady flow of people in and out of her office. She answers all Kara’s questions with aplomb, happy to elaborate on most every point and eager to draw attention to the rising issue of homelessness among children and teens in the US.

“When I was young, my dad lost his job at the auto plant. It was supposed to be a temporary layoff, but the factory never reopened. We ended up losing the house, and we lived so far from our extended family that staying with them wasn’t much of an option. We lived in our SUV for six months, sleeping at shelters every now and again, if we could find one that allowed families to stay together. We showered at the local YMCA. Five people and a dog, living and sleeping in an old station wagon- even now, it sounds ridiculous. Eventually, we got back on our feet, but I never forgot that. It was just six months, but it was- and remains- the scariest, most uncertain time in my entire life, and it shaped me in a lot of ways I didn’t expect. And there are kids and families who do that for years. I just want to help them the way I wish that someone had been able to help us.”

At the end of the interview, Kara thanks her profusely for her time and for sharing her story before hurrying off to CatCo to type up a draft for Snapper (“What’s wrong with you, Ponytail, why is everything you bring me sappy and sentimental?”), which she finishes an outline of just in time to send it off before running to Big Belly and L-Corp for lunch with Lena.

She greets the newest in a series of secretaries (Anna? Amy? Ava? Lena’s really missing Jess, these days, but from what she’s told Kara, Jess is kicking butt in her new role as VP of Operations and will probably take over for the COO when he retires in a few years), and the girl waves her in distractedly.

And that’s when Kara’s day goes from normal to not, because inside the office are two masked men holding a stone-faced Lena at gunpoint on her balcony and demanding… something, probably. Kara’s a bit distracted by the loaded gun aimed at Lena’s head.

“Hey!” she yells, attracting both their attention. They whirl on her and Lena’s eyes widen in alarm, and Kara suddenly realizes three things- 1) she’s in her Kara Danvers clothes, not the supersuit, 2) she can’t speed into the suit now that they’re both looking at her, and 3) she has no plan.

Crap.

“Who the hell are you?!” one of them demands.

Kara… doesn’t have a good or snappy answer for that, and instead does the only thing she can think of- she throws the large milkshakes she’s carrying at them as hard as she can.

Which, in retrospect, is too hard, apparently because while yes, it is both funny and gratifying to see two grown men get absolutely leveled by a tasty dairy treat to the face, the one closest to Lena manages to elbow her in such a way that she falls backwards over the rail with an instinctual scream that makes Kara’s heart fly into her throat. She whips off her glasses, and by the time she’s out the window and speeding toward Lena’s flailing form, the suit is materialized. She gets under Lena, catching her carefully and dropping a bit further before slowing down (because she’s been made aware that when she doesn’t, the people she’s saving may as well be hitting the pavement), finally coasting to a stop about 20 feet from the ground.

Lena’s face is screwed up in a forced sort of focus, her hands clutching tightly at Kara’s shoulders and cape as she holds her breath.

“Are you okay?” Kara asks quietly.

Lena swallows thickly and nods, eyes still firmly closed. “I’m alright. Thank you- I’ll admit, I wasn’t quite sure how to get out of that one.”

“What was that? What did they want?”

Lena cracks an eye open. “Oh. you know, just my quarterly assassination attempt. I think my mother was starting to miss me, so she wanted to reach out.”

Kara snorts. “That really shouldn’t be funny.”

“Maybe not, but here we are.” Lena shifts a bit in Kara’s arms, cheeks a bit flushed from the adrenaline rush, and clears her throat. “Not to be rude, Supergirl, but do you think that perhaps we could continue this conversation… on the ground?”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, sorry. I forgot we were, uh, flying.”

Lena chuckles as they ascend slowly back up to her office. “You forgot you were flying?”

Kara shrugs with an easy smile. “I guess you have that effect on me.”

Lena huffs a laugh against Kara’s neck, eyes squeezed shut again. They alight on the balcony, finding the two men still unconscious, covered in Kara and Lena’s lunch. Lena sighs as Kara sets her down, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What a mess.”

“Yeah, sorry, I sorta… panicked.”  

“I was so looking forward to a milkshake too…” Lena laments playfully.

“Well, then I have good news and bad news,” Kara says. She reaches out and gently wipes a bit of her own chocolate shake from Lena’s cheek with the pad of her thumb, tucking it into her mouth on instinct to get a taste of it. “The good news is, you do, in fact, have some shake on you!”

“Whats the bad news?” 

“Also that you have some shake on you.” Kara laughs, gathering the two men in her arms and hefting them a bit so they’re easier to carry. “I’ll get you another one. Be right back.”

She drops the men at the police station with a brief explanation before flying back into the office. Lena hands over her discarded glasses with a wry grin.

“I figured you’d need these before the police arrive.” She’s putting on a brave front, but she’s clearly still more than a bit rattled, if her too-bright eyes and thundering heartbeat are anything to go by. Kara steps closer and opens her arms in invitation, and Lena doesn’t hesitate to step into them. “Thank you,” Lena says fervently, tucking her face into Kara’s shoulder and wrapping her arms tight around Kara’s waist. 

“Always,” Kara promises, daring to press a reassuring kiss to Lena’s temple (and getting a bit of Lena’s strawberry shake for her troubles) before wrapping her up even tighter in her arms. “Are you actually okay?”

“I mean, my fear of heights has been reaffirmed,” Lena jokes, “but aside from that, I’m not hurt.”

“Good. I don’t like, love people pointing guns at you. Just so you know.”

“I’m not a fan either, for the record,” Lena drawls, burrowing even closer. “Even though I know you’ll save me, it still puts a damper on my day.”

Kara huffs a laugh. “Same.”

They stay like that for a few minutes, until Lena’s calmed down enough to stop shaking and calls her assistant (Audra, apparently) in, telling her what’d happened and that the police would be arriving shortly to take her and Kara’s statements, and please advise the security team to let them up discreetly. After the cops arrive, it’s a blur of questions, and Kara has to concentrate on telling the story of how she’d panicked and thrown the milkshakes at the men, and one of them had knocked Lena over the balcony (all true), and Kara had yelled for Supergirl, who had knocked the men out on her way to Lena (also technically mostly true. Technically. Mostly.). The police are sure to tell Kara that next time, she shouldn’t throw things at people with guns, and also to tell them both how lucky they are that Supergirl had shown up when she did.

“She’s always there when I need her,” Lena agrees, throwing a sly wink over the officer’s shoulder at Kara.

Kara just shakes her head and smiles. Even almost dying isn’t enough to make Lena not flirt with her. The woman is truly a marvel.

Kara’s comms crackle again, accompanied by Alex’s custom ringtone on her cell, and after assuring the police that she has no issue with giving another statement if they need her to later, hurries over to the DEO (making a quick stop in the back alley to change into her suit).

**

When Kara arrives, she’s told that J’onn and Alex are waiting for her in the Directors’ offices. She makes her way there, waving to the agents and scientists she knows. But it’s very weird, because every time one of them sees her, they start giggling before quickly hurrying off in the opposite direction. Like, literally everyone is whispering and pointing and giggling, and it’s giving Kara such visceral flashbacks to high school that it’s all she can do to not check her cape for a taped on sign that says ‘Kick me’ or ‘Freak’.

(Kids are mean.)

By the time Kara gets to her destination, she’s fully paranoid, sure that someone’s playing a prank on her, somehow, and that everyone but her is in on the joke. She opens the door with more force than intended and catches it just before the handle puts a hole in the wall, throwing Alex and J’onn a sheepish smile. She closes the door extra gently and leans against it heavily. J’onn and Alex just stare at her, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Busy day, Supergirl?” Alex asks, and after half a lifetime of spending time with her, Kara recognizes that she, too, is trying not to laugh. 

Kara’s had enough. “Okay, do I have something on my face? Or on the suit? Is someone messing with me?”

J’onn’s brow furrows. “No.”

“Then what’s the deal? Why is the entire DEO like… laughing at me? Did someone accidentally vent the lab fumes out into the main hub again?”

“No.”

“Did someone see me crash into that billboard last week?”

J’onn’s frown deepens. “What?”

“No,” Alex answers.

“Then why is everyone laughing at me?!”

“I mean, if I had to guess, I’d say it’s because of that,” Alex muses, nodding toward the big TV on the wall beside Kara.

She steps back to watch the news coverage of her dealing with the hostage situation this morning and frowns. “What, those guys? That was routine, what’s so funny about tha-”

“No, no, not that. That,” Alex clarifies, cranking up the volume.

“...reports are saying that the CEO of L-Corp, Lena Luthor, experienced an attempt on her life early this afternoon. Sources claim that she fell from a considerable height-”

“Hey, she was pushed,” Kara corrects.

“Shh!”

“...caught by Supergirl, who may have gotten a little… familiar with her.”

And there’s a video (clearly recorded on a cell phone but not the worst quality Kara’s ever seen) of Kara catching Lena and slowing to a stop above the sidewalk, of them talking quietly, of Kara’s hand definitely on Lena’s-

“Oh. Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Alex drawls, clicking the TV off with relish, a large, evil-big-sister grin spreading across her face. “Congratulations, Supergirl- the world just watched you grope Lena Luthor’s ass.”

“But I’m not- I wasn’t groping, I was catching! My hands weren’t… If it was groping, I’d be all up on her, and I wasn’t!”

“Camera begs to differ. It’s already trending on Twitter in National CIty.”

Kara puts her head in her hands and groans. “Why?! I was trying to save her!”

“You were definitely trying to save part of her,” Alex agrees. “Granted, it’s a very nice part...”

Kara’s head pops up, and she shoots Alex a look that’s between a pout and a glare. “You’re not helping.”

Alex feigns confusion. “Am I supposed to be helping?”

“Alright, enough,” J’onn cuts in before Kara can retort. “We just wanted you to be aware. I don’t think that this is going to be taken for anything more than it is- a humorous moment in the middle of a successful rescue. You shouldn’t worry about the press.”

And truth be told, Kara isn't worried about the press- she’s worried about the fact that she’s going to have to face Lena after this. Lena, who she knows for a fact has google alerts set for herself, Kara Danvers, and Supergirl, a gesture which is normally actually sweet and kind but is right now definitely gonna bite her in the-

“Okay! So, is that all?”

Alex blinks, looks over at J’onn, and shrugs. “I mean, yeah. Try not to make a habit of groping your crush when you’re in the suit.”

“I wasn’t groping her-”

Alex grins. “So you admit you have a crush? Interesting…”

“Alex!”

**

J’onn’s prediction is mostly right- no one seems to be taking the shots of her grabbi- saving Lena as anything other than a funny blip of a moment in their coverage of it.

He was wrong about the sheer scale. The clip had gone totally viral in a matter of hours, and seemingly every major network in the country has run the clip at least once as a bit of filler-fluff, and almost every major network anchor (including the ones at CatCo, the traitors) has made at least a passing joke about Supergirl being ‘Super-Handsy'.

Which means that Kara is very late getting back to Lena’s office with replacement food. But like, she’s been busy, okay? It’s not like she’s avoiding Lena, or something, because she’s embarrassed- which she isn’t, because she didn’t do anything bad or wrong and-

Anyways, it’s well past sunset by the time Kara gets to Lena’s office door again. She hesitates outside it for just a moment before shouldering the door open and knocking tentatively.

Lena’s attention jerks from whatever she’d been absorbed in to Kara, and a relieved smile blooms across her face. “Hey there.”

Kara finds herself equally relieved to not experience a repeat performance of earlier scary situations. “Hi,” Kara says, unable to resist smiling back. She raises the bags and cup carrier. “I bring grease and milkshakes. Again.”

“Oh thank god, I’m starving,” Lena says, rolling her chair away from her desk and rising into a deep and probably much-needed stretch. Kara very determinedly does not stare at the slight sliver of soft tummy that appears between her blouse and skirt at the motion. “I’ve been staring at this screen for several hours. And Sam called to yell at me- she says hello, by the way- she and Ruby are in town next weekend.”

“Good!” Kara crosses the room to the couch as Lena does, easily spreading out the veritable buffet of fast food she’d brought over the coffee table. “I mean, not good that she yelled at you, or that you’re still at work, Miss Luthor,” she says pointedly, receiving only an unapologetic shrug in response. “But good that, um-”

“I get it,” Lena chuckles, resting a hand lightly on Kara’s knee and boy, if that doesn’t make Kara’s brain go fuzzy and dumb again… “Thank you, for checking in.”

“Of course I was gonna check on you, Lena,” Kara huffs. “Plus, I know you probably didn’t get lunch, so…”

Lena hums around a mouthful of burger, chewing until she can politely speak again. “Well it’s delicious. Did you make it yourself?” she teases with a sly grin.

“Oh, yeah, totally. Slaved away over a hot stove for this- I just wrapped it in Big Belly wrappers so you wouldn’t feel bad about it.”

“Very clever.” Lena pops the lid off of her milkshake and drags a fry through it (an advanced culinary delicacy Kara had horrified her with initially but had eventually become a bit of a guilty pleasure). “Although I have to say, traditionally you’d have to buy me dinner before you grabbed my ass.”

Kara chokes on a pickle. “Oh no,” she groans, dropping the burger onto the wrapper on the table and dropping her very red face into her hands as Lena laughs beside her. She peers out from between her fingers. “I am so sorry, I was just worried about you hitting the pavement and like, catching you in the least jarring way and I wasn’t paying attention to where my hands were and I didn’t even notice until I got back to the DEO and-”

“Well I have so say, I feel a bit offended that you didn’t even realize you were copping a feel...” When the only response is another groan and a deep flush spreading from Kara’s neck to the tips of her ears, Lena relents. “Kara, Kara, it’s fine!” she laughs, pulling Kara’s hands away from her face and giving them a grounding squeeze. “Nia’s been sending me memes about it all day, which has improved my mood significantly. On the grand scale of fallout from assassination attempts, this one was at least funny.”

“I know that’s supposed to be comforting, but all it makes me wanna do is wrap you in bubble wrap forever,” Kara informs her.

“Pass on that. But seriously, don’t worry about it- I know it wasn’t on purpose- unfortunately for me, you’re too noble to do something like that,” Lena laments playfully.

And whether it’s the knowledge that Lena is not, in fact, upset, the overall weirdness that has been this day, or this delicious burger fueling it, Kara feels a bit emboldened. “Hey Lena…”

“Yes?”

“What if I wanted to grab your butt? Just, y’know, as a hypothetical. For future reference.”

Lena quirks a brow at her, fighting a smile as she contemplates this. “Hmm. Strictly hypothetically?”

Kara scoots a bit closer on the couch. “Sure.”

 “Well, you’ve already bought me dinner…”

“And lunch, technically. Even if I gave it to the bad guys.”

“True. Plus you saved my life, so that gets you some points, probably.”

Kara pauses in her sly scooching. “Oh, hey, wait, no, that’s not-” 

“Kidding, Kara. I know you’d never use that to your advantage. I, however, have determined that strong moral fibre and nobility do, in fact, earn you more points, which is my choice on the matter and you get absolutely no say in it.”

“Oh. Um, alright, I think.”

Lena stares off into the middle distance, tapping her forefinger thoughtfully against her chin. Finally she shrugs. “Yes, I think you’re fulfilled the prerequisites for a bit of grab-ass today.”

Kara snorts, Lena laughs, and soon enough Kara takes her up on the offer.

**

“Hey Kara, remember that time you grabbed Lena’s ass and it made international news?” Nia asks around a mouthful of mushu pork.

“You mean last week? Yes, I remember,” Kara drawls. Beside her/halfway sitting on her lap, Lena snorts.

“That was the best.”

Alex glares. “Um, excuse you, no. No it was not. I had to sift through so much thirsting over my sister on like, every social media platform. It was the worst day of my life.”

Brainy’s brow furrows. “Surely that cannot be correct, Alex. Statistically speaking-”

Alex holds up a hand, cutting him off. “Trauma can’t be measured, Brainy.”

Kelly chuckles and presses a consoling kiss to Alex’s cheek, and it makes the tough agent melt into a doe-eyed puddle of mush that Kara snorts. And she says they’re gross... Kara sneaks a glance at Lena from the corner of her eye, and she catches Lena looking at her. She leans close and jostles her gently as she drops her head onto Lena’ shoulder. “We’re never gonna live that down, are we?”

“Probably not.”

“We have the worst friends.” When this elicits nothing but a chuckle, Kara tips her head back to see Lena still looking at her, a soft smile playing at her mouth and shining in her eyes. And like, this whole thing they’re doing is new, with the kissing and the actual dates and the... everything else. But the thing where Kara catches Lena looking at her and she doesn’t look away? That freakin’ knocks her out, every single time. “Hey,” she manages.

Lena grins down at her. “Hi.”

So yeah. Maybe the initial circumstances weren’t ideal, and she doesn’t love the mockery that’s been heaped upon her by all of her friends and loved ones (including Winn, who’d sent a missive from the future that literally just said ‘LOL’). But the fact is, Kara muses as she surges up just enough to kiss the corner of Lena’s mouth, that she doesn’t regret a thing.

[wallylinda]

What would your ideal flash show be like though?

Oh, anon. Anon. I am so glad you asked. Enclosed within this ask I have written my--completely unprofessional and inexperienced, mind you--outline of 12 episodes for a season of a Flash series, written and directed by yours truly. I have admittedly gone slightly overboard, but don’t mind that. Just enjoy it.

Also, DC hire me. I can make you millions.

Let’s begin with the basics. Our show will focus on Barry in a quick, episodic, monster-of-the-week format. There won’t really be a background, ever-mounting plot behind it all; I want this show to be quirky, fun, and light, even if it will sometimes delve into something darker and more lore-intensive. If anything, the growing tension over the entire season will come from the fact that Barry still hasn’t told Iris, his girlfriend of two years, his secret identity. Preferably, it’d also be a cartoon rather than live-action.

Now, the backstory of the Flash is already pre-established in pop culture. Even if you don't know much about Barry Allen, you would still be able to hazard a more-or-less accurate guess. And for that reason, we can skip completely by an ‘origin’ episode and instead, dive straight into the strangeness of Central City and its inhabitants.

Finally, one last thing before I start on the episodes themselves: the running theme of this show will be in mundanity. What blurs the line between normality and uniqueness? Do you want freedom from all of the responsibilities that you hold, from your life and the legacy you are creating, or are you just scared that you can’t live up to your best self? Will it solve anything to simply run away from it all?

Because you see, Barry Allen, you’re really just an ordinary man at heart. That’s what makes you a good man, a good hero. In the mundane, you can find a reason to move one foot in front of the other.

Episode 1: Stormy Weather

The very first sight is of a bolt of lightning heralding across the sky. But it doesn’t land on a shelf of chemicals. Instead, the camera pans over a man dressed in old-fashioned clothes hurrying down the sidewalk with a messenger bag over his head, trying to avoid the rain.

Let me introduce to you our protagonist, Barry Allen, who is currently late to a pre-agreed date that he has with the ever-charming reporter, Miss Iris West. He hurries into a restaurant whereupon he teasingly gets called a “slowpoke” by the lady herself.

Iris and Barry have a brief conversation. We establish their relationship with one another and introduce their characters. Barry daintily puts a napkin over his lap.

After a few minutes, a news station blazes to life at the back of the restaurant. “This just in,” the reporter announces jovially, “the Weather Wizard is loose on 38th street!”

And then, right outside the window, a stroke of lightning caves in the window of the next-door jewelry store. I’ll give you three guesses as to who the culprit is, and the first two don’t count.

“That’s my cue,” Iris says and leaves to get the latest scoop. Barry too quickly makes his escape into his alter-ego.

Next, we have your habitual supervillain fight. Weather Wizard slicks the roads with ice, attempts to electrocute Barry, obscures his path with thick fog; whatever. The point of the story is that Barry spends a good amount of time tracking the Weather Wizard through his robberies like a Wile E. Coyote skit.

When the fight is finally and done with, the Flash goes back to being Barry Allen, and helpfully walks Iris back to her own apartment. It starts raining again, this time without any outside influence, and Iris takes Barry’s hand and leads him in a romantic, clumsy waltz in the rain.

Episode 2: What You See is What You Get

The fair’s rolled into the city and on the last day of its stay, Iris and Barry decide to attend.

Barry wears a bowtie and spends too long agonizing over whether he wants cotton candy or popcorn. Iris gets him shaved ice and pays fifteen dollars to have a purple butterfly painted onto his cheek.

Now for whatever reason, the Mirror Master shows up. Maybe he really likes fairs. Maybe there’s some prize to be stolen there. Either way, the Flash rather helpfully gets himself stuck in the fair’s Mirror Maze, wherein every mirror he passes transforms him into a different version of himself. He gets a big head, an oversized waist, tiny little baby hands, etc. It’s very disorienting.

He also gets attacked by a bunch of mirror clones of himself. In the process of fighting them all, he cracks a mirror. “I really, really can’t afford seven years of bad luck!”

Still, in a moment of dramatic revelation, the mirror shards show a thin strip of purple paint poking out from the side of his costume. The butterfly face-painting.

And through the power of True Love (and also a normal mirror), Barry reverts back to his original body and goes off to capture Mirror Master.

Later, he’ll meet up with Iris and hold out some shaved ice for her as if he was presenting flowers. “So...do you want to take a ride on the ferris wheel with me?”

Episode 3: Bibbidi, Bobbidi, Boo!

The mayor unveils a new statue of the Flash in front of the Flash museum, thanking the city’s beloved hero for his duty to the city. He goes on a whole spiel using Barry as a mouthpiece. And Barry, uncomfortable over all of the attention and one step away from fleeing, misses a date that he’d had with Iris because of it.

Luckily or unluckily for him, he doesn’t get a chance to call her back after listening to her voicemail. Instead, Abra Kadabra pops out in a cloud of smoke, dramatically pointing his wand towards the statue and making it disappear with a shower of rainbow sparks. And then he forces everyone in the vicinity to start clapping for him.

Barry, in due fashion, runs to stop him. Abra makes him do a little tap-dance, and that prevents Barry from capturing him.

Still, not even an hour later, Abra announces that he will put on a show at Central Hall. A bunch of people get brainwashed into attending.

He, like the mayor, makes a speech. “I want fame! I want to be renowned as the greatest magician of all time! You wouldn’t understand my plight, Flash; you already have it all!”

And after a dizzying array of magical tricks--Barry gets kicked through several dimensions, all of which have their own separate and discordant music track--he manages to land a punch.

After that, he drags himself to Iris’s apartment, claiming that he too got brainwashed and so, very apologetically, didn’t have a choice in being late. They have a brief conversation about it. “Sometimes, it just feels like I’m always the last thing on your mind. I can’t seem to get your attention anymore.”

“Trust me, Iris, even Abra Kadabra’s magic tricks couldn’t get my mind off of you.”

It’s very sappy stuff.

Episode 4: Nothing to Fear

The Green Lantern is in town! Coincidentally, so is Barry’s best friend, a charming, debonair man by the name of Hal Jordan, who is seemingly the very opposite of the mild-mannered, slow-going Barry Allen.

So naturally, Barry drags him to a jazz concert. “Barry,” says Hal, playing solitaire on Barry’s phone, “this is the most boring date I’ve ever been on.” Barry hisses at him to be quiet.

Of course, things can’t stay silent for long. The Pied Piper (age: teenager) interrupts the scene, aiming to steal the gold statue at the back of the room, and simultaneously puts everyone in the room in a musical trance that shows them hallucinations of their worst fears.

Barry finds himself alone in space. There are stars all around him, electricity below his feet, everything moving far too slow for comfort. He doesn’t know it, but this is the Speedforce; a place he knows like the back of his hand and yet, doesn’t know at all.

Hal’s voice quickly snaps him out of it. After a few more rounds of shenanigans--up to and not including Hal loading Barry up into a construct cannon to fire him into the air--the villain of the day is safely defeated.

Hal asks why Barry looks so jittery. Barry talks about the hallucination he saw. Hal gives a heartfelt speech about bravery and mentions his own hallucination. Keep in mind they’re standing side by side on a rooftop with the full moon out.

“You’re the most admirable man I know.”

“Don’t sell yourself too short, Barry. You’re pretty great too.”

Episode 5: Running for Office

It’s not every day where you wake up to find yourself in a modern Ice Age, especially in the middle of summer. Has Christmas come early? Nope. Central City just has a few unusual Rogues to deal with. Welcome to the scene: Captain Cold!

You know, the man who coincidentally broke out of prison just two hours before the giant snowstorm came to life. Barry’s sure that he’s plotting something nefarious...

Meanwhile, we cut to a scene of Captain Cold trying to ice-picket his way to a bank. The tip of his pick breaks. “Ah,” he says, staring blankly at his iced surroundings. “This was not my best idea. I used way too much power on the gun...okay, well I guess it’s time to take the city hostage until they make me the mayor. I’m very adaptable.”

We cut back to Barry, hearing the news that Captain Cold is demanding to be made mayor. “I knew it! Look at that fiend!”

Hence, a series of hijinks ensues. Cold mockingly makes himself a mayor top hat and freezes Barry’s legs to the floor. Barry vibrates out of that trap and nearly drops a chandelier on his head when those same vibrations unbalance the whole ice-filled room.

He also sleds himself straight through a wall and into a bank vault. Cold thanks him for that and takes off with a bunch of hundred bills stuffed into his mayoral clothes (aka he stole a tux from Walmart).

Eventually, Cold is caught. But the episode doesn’t truly end until Iris stuffs a snowball down Barry’s shirt, cackling as he screeches in indignity.

Episode 6: Forever a Marathon

We start off with scratchy film, old-timey music, and a Flash that isn’t Barry barreling down the street. But still, the narration introduces him as the Flash, and the man throws a wink to the camera before landing a devastating blow on a goofy-looking villain.

And then the scene reverts back. The Flash, both of them, sit in an unspecified fast-food joint, a packet of wrappers surrounding them all. “And that’s how I beat the Thinker. Good times,” says the Old Flash. Everybody say hello to Jay Garrick, the very first Flash.

Barry pokes at his food. Hesitantly, he asks Jay if he feels proud of his legacy. “I feel like the more I do as the Flash, the more I damage what little I have as Barry Allen. There’s always so much I can be doing and even with super speed, it’s impossible to get it done. Jay...how do I handle that?”

Jay doesn’t get a chance to answer his question. Instead, the Turtle timely interrupts. For why, and for what reason? Doesn’t matter. He’s a plot device.

Barry, in a symbolic fashion, loses his speed. Jay tells him to get out of the fight and Barry, momentarily, complies. And then he sees Jay get hit and decides, oh hell no. And through the power of *insert superpower shenanigans here* he manages to defeat the Turtle even while powerless.

At the end of it all, Jay gives Barry some advice. “Being the Flash is a duty. But if you could give it up, you would’ve done so a long time ago. You need to help just as much as you need anything else on Earth. There’ll be some highs and some lows to this job of ours, but I firmly believe it’s all worth it in the end, if only so you can go home and see what you’ve built for yourself one more time. That’s life, really.”

“Tell her about your identity, son. If she loves you in even a fraction of the way that you love her, it’ll work itself out.”

“...Also, come over soon. Joan misses you.”

Episode 7: Hot Pursuit

Wouldn’t you know it, but Barry’s late. Again. Snails have been known to have moved faster than him and honestly, that’s saying something.

But in contrast, he’s just right on time to see Heatwave emptying an entire canister of gasoline onto the property line of an art museum. And just on time to be taken as a civilian hostage.

But before Barry can make his daring escape, Iris shows up with a fire extinguisher. She’s a reporter, she cares very little about the law, and she has a boyfriend to save. “Hey,” she says as she cuts at his rope with a pocket knife, Heatwave conveniently not noticing her. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“We are going to die,” Barry says, feeling light-headed. “We are actually going to die.”

And from there, marks the start of Barry desperately trying not to reveal his secret identity as a series of ‘coincidences’ help their escape.

It starts feeling a little bit too hot? Oh wouldn’t you know it, there’s suddenly a cool gust of wind. Heatwave chasing after them (“honestly I won’t actually hurt you, now can you just get back into the ropes already”)? The man trips on a piece of rubble that was conveniently not there before.

Finally, Barry gets a chance to sneak away and capture Heatwave as the Flash. He meets Iris at the front of the museum.

“Guess I’m the superhero of this relationship, huh?” she muses. “Admit it; I must be the Flash.”

“Careful, Flash,” he says. “You don’t want to reveal your identity to just anyone.”

She tweaks his nose. “But you see, you’re not just anyone. You’re Barry Allen.”

Episode 8: Lightning Strikes Twice

Iris’s nephew is visiting for an entire week and Barry is panicking.

Wally West very clearly adores his aunt, is very cautious of Barry, and his favorite hero is the Flash, aka Barry himself. So in an effort to bond, Barry decides to brave the building built after himself and take Wally to see the Flash museum.

And if Barry just has to use the bathroom at the same time that the Flash just so happens across a twelve-year-old kid wandering around, well that’s just a coincidence.

But what’s even more of a coincidence is when, after showing off how Barry himself got his powers, a bolt of lightning strikes Wally and knocks him into a shelf of chemicals.

Barry screeches. Wally panics and starts moving at superspeed. “Oh god,” Barry whimpers. “Your aunt is going to kill me.”

“Wait a minute...YOU’RE BARRY ALLEN?!?!”

“SH--I MEAN CHEESE. ANYWAY YES, BUT PLEASE BE QUIET ABOUT IT.”

Henceforth, the introduction of Kid Flash. Although cocky and a bit too quick to act, he’s got a good heart. They have an *insert cool adventure here* together and by the end of the week, Wally has very clearly warmed up to Barry.

“I give you permission to date my Aunt,” he announces grandly. “Because you’re pretty cool even if you’re kind of a dork. So see you around, Uncle Barry! ….Also, can you give me your autograph?”

Episode 9: Stretch Your Disbelief

Welcome to the table, Ralph Dibny. He and his wife have two nights to spend in Central City and wouldn’t you know it, a mystery has opened up just on time: a series of home robberies on the rich and famous people that live nearby.

Ralph and Dibny track down clues. At one point, they pretend to be criminals to subtly question a supervillain costume maker. Barry draws a painfully awful scar on his face before Ralph forces him to be respectable.

Meanwhile, Sue and Iris have a conversation. Sue talks about her adventures and Iris talks about her own accomplishments. They drift on, moving onto the future. “I think I’d like to marry Barry,” Iris says. “But I don’t know if I can do that if he’s not honest with me.”

“I’m not stupid,” she tells Sue. “I know that he’s hiding something, and I know that it’s something big. And I don’t want to find out about it five, six years into the future and be hurt that he didn’t tell me before. I can wait for him, but I can’t wait for that long.”

Sue replies: “I don’t know him as well as you, Iris, but he’s a good man. Talk to him about it, and it’ll work out if you both communicate with each other.” Iris sighs and nods.

“Another time,” she says. “It can wait a week.”

We go back to Ralph and Barry. They’ve hunted down the clues to Captain Boomerang. Through a series of catastrophic events, Barry gets tied to a giant boomerang.

“It’s for the flair,” the Captain says. “Also because it’s funny. And on brand. Anyway, I’m going to shoot you up into space now.”

Luckily, that doesn’t happen. Ralph unties him and they capture the villain rather quickly after that.

The episode ends with both Barry and Iris echoing the same sentence: “Thanks for the help, Sue/Ralph”

Episode 10: Revisionist History

Barry discovers he can time travel. So he, like any other sane man, takes a day off of work and goes barrelling into the future without a second thought.

It’s relaxing for the first few hours. And then, a man with super-speed is reported to have stolen a couple of expensive statues from a bunch of different manors. Barry Allen, I’d like to introduce you to Eobard Thawne; the Reverse-Flash. You can just call him Zoom. Professor even, if you would prefer it.

Barry goes chasing after him, but he gets his ass beat immediately. Zoom goes on a spiel about his backstory and more importantly, Barry’s backstory.

After all, this is the future. And what does the future know of the Flash? That he’s a hero, that he’s a god, that he’s a long-forgotten memory. So much of his history has been lost to tales of greater grandeur than himself. But so much of him still remains, too.

“I know more about you than you ever will,” gloats Zoom. “I know your future, Barry Allen. I know how you'll end. Doesn’t that haunt you? I can tell you right now, and it still wouldn’t change anything; you’d still die in that exact same way. Your present is my history.”

So after a particularly charged fight, Barry manages to defeat Zoom. He goes back to the past in a somber mood.

The last scene is a zoom-in close-up of a picture of Iris and Barry that he has on his bedside drawer.

Episode 11: Growing Pains

There’s a dimensional wormhole in the middle of 27th street and it’s already swallowed up ten cars and released a host of dinosaurs into the surrounding area. It also brought a drove of archeologists, biologists, and scientists of related fields of study into the city.

Barry calls up Wally, asks if he wants to go see some dinosaurs, and takes his nephew into the wormhole for a pleasant adventure in prehistoric times to find everyone who’s fallen into it.

We get some nice bonding moments. Barry and Wally roast an ancient fish on the fire, rescue a few dozen or so people, and generally just have a fun outing together.

The problem comes when they have to rescue the last person. Insert a catastrophic event here, insert Wally being too slow on his way to rescue the guy here, and insert Barry saving everyone’s lives by himself here.

They get the man back to Central City. Wally’s frustrated because if Barry hadn’t been there, that person would’ve died and it would’ve been Wally’s fault. “I’m not fast enough.”

“You’re young yet,” Barry says. “I’m sure you’ll grow into your powers. But even then, making mistakes is normal.”

“What matters is that you’ve always got someone in your corner to help you out when you happen to stumble.”

Episode 12: We Extend an Invitation…

The Flash is cordially invited to a Rogue get-together. The Flash decides to attend. And as soon as she shows up through the door, all eyes turn to Trickster and yell at him for actually sending the Flash that invitation.

Hence, a big epic battle between the Flash and all of his Rogues. Or at least some of them. The Turtle and Abra Kadabra weren’t invited on account of no one actually liking them.

Anyway, I don’t know how, but this all culminates in Iris finding out his identity in a dramatic turn of events. Maybe Barry decided to finally confess after an already wild night.

It's moody, tense, emotional, the culmination of the entire season. She takes off his mask for him. "Oh," Iris says. "Oh."

And then she kisses him and the actual problems of that identity reveal are left to the next season to deal with. Amen.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

too soon to tell, chapter t w o

You dropped your bag in the foyer of Harry’s house after work on a Thursday. It was quiet--he wasn’t home yet and you’d keyed in knowing that you’d have some time to yourself.

You felt a vibrating in your pocket when you shrugged off your coat, your visible reflection told you it was a FaceTime call, Alyssa’s name danced across the screen until you slid your thumb to answer.

“Hello, hello,” you greeted, walking to find a seat on the couch.

“Where are you?” She furrowed her brows as she took in your surroundings.

“At Harry’s--he’s out, though.”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I will never get sick of you lounging in his house when he’s not there.”

You rolled your eyes at your old roommate’s antics--she’d always been the number one supporter of your relationship and when you texted her earlier saying you needed advice, she promised to call on her lunch break.

“I’m not lounging,” you informed with a shake of your head. “I just got out of work, we’re having dinner tonight.”

“Mr. Popstar isn’t too busy?” She teased, aware of the tension both of your schedules had been causing.

“Apparently not.”

She forked a bite of food into her mouth, the sun was shining through the window behind her, the walls of your old apartment were redecorated now with the art of your replacement. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Sort of,” you leaned back and let out a breath. “I mean, it’s all connected--”

“What is?”

“I’m getting to it,” you made a face at her through the phone. “So--don’t freak out, okay? Cause I don’t even know if anything will come from it and Harry doesn’t know yet.”

She nodded and gestured with her hand for you to get on with it.

Knowing Alyssa, she was already jumping to conclusions in her head. You were pregnant, you were engaged, you quit your job, you had a huge fight with your sister. No, no, no.

“I interviewed for a job in LA...and I haven’t told Harry because all our friends have been so excited about us being in the same spot again but--”

Her eyes went wide at the mention of a US city, she did her best to hold back her smile until it faded when you said: “I don’t know. Something feels off between us.”

“Off between you and Harry? More than just being busy?”

“I’m probably overthinking it but,” you looked around his living room. Pictures of his mum, his sister, his cousins--even his manager--were tucked in frames and placed on shelves. There wasn’t a trace of you in his house except for the toothbrush upstairs and the key on your keyring.

“It feels like we’re not moving forward. And we’ve both been busy, like I’ve told you, but since we don’t live together sometimes we go days without seeing each other and it’s fine, I get that he’s busy, obviously, but--”

“But you want to move in with him.”

“Well, I don’t know--I did, sort of, I think--but then I heard about this job in LA and it sounds amazing but Jessie just moved here and no one will shut up about how great London is.”

Alyssa offered a sympathetic frown and repositioned the bowl in front of her to get another bite. “What’s the job?”

You almost didn’t want to tell her, sure she’d get excited and eager to have you back in the same country. You winced a little, bracing for her reaction. “S’with E! News,” you shrugged. “It’d be on-air.”

“Shut up! Are you serious?!”

“Yes m’serious,” you rolled your eyes. “But I haven’t told any of them because you know how they are.”

She nodded, “Jessie will not want you to take it.”

“God love her, but of course not. And Harry spends time out there, so it might be okay, but it’s not like I could ask him to go with me.”

“Why not? He’s famous, Y/N--he belongs there.”

“It’s too soon,” you whined. “He’s not my fiancé and we don’t live together, so--I don’t want to make it weird.”

“But you love him,” she reasoned.

“Yeah, but s’been weird lately!" You tried to drive home the point. "He’s made no mention of moving in and we’ve been dating for a year and a half, I’ve been in London for over a year now. He’s not even mentioned it, Alyssa, I swear. He’ll say things like ‘one day we can go on vacation,’ and ‘what should we do for Christmas?’ But he’s made no concrete plans to actually have a future with me.”

“Maybe he doesn’t think you’re ready.”

“Maybe he’s not ready,” you volleyed.

“Maybe,” Alyssa shrugged. “But you won’t know if you don’t ask him.”

“But if I ask him and he’s not on the same page I’ll look like an idiot and he’s busy with the album and now I’m thinking about moving to LA and--”

She watched you, waited for you to say more, but you were out of words. You changed gears.

“Maybe we’re just not meant to be long term.”

“Oh come on,” she groaned. “Not this again.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Your whole ‘we should have left it in New York’ shit.”

You lifted your eyebrows to demand further details.

“You were freaked out in the beginning that you’d move back there and it would be weird.”

“And?”

“Was it weird?”

“Not at first, I guess. But I mean, come on---don’t you think we should have taken some kind of step forward by now? Even just mentioning the idea of moving in together?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “Maybe it’s different with someone like him.”

You rolled your eyes--what if that’s what you were sick of?

People always said that: it’s different because of his job, it’s different because he’s on the road, it’s different because he’s famous.

Of course it was, and that was fine, for a while. But what if Harry’s job always got in the way of feeling normal? What if you couldn’t have a real wedding because of it? What if you could never send your children to summer camp because of it?

Were you willing to sacrifice your own future to live an unconventional life with someone just because you loved him?

“When will you hear back about the job?”

“Dunno--talked to them last week on Monday and they said this week at some point. S'been a while, so hopefully soon.”

You’d been keeping busy, trying to avoid your personal email at all costs and also making sure that Harry had limited visibility of your screen at all times.

“Do you want it?”

You thought on it for a second. Being offered a job at a company like E! would certainly be an ego boost, but the mere thought of having to explain to all of your friends that yes, you’d been back in London for 18 months and now you were packing up and moving even farther away than before wouldn’t be easy. That seemed to be the one certainty in the whole situation: no one would take it well.

“I don’t want to leave everyone here, especially Harry--but I also don’t want to be stupid and think that this relationship is going somewhere if it’s not.”

Alyssa nodded and let out a sigh. “I get that, I mean, of course you have to do what’s best for you. But I’d hate to see you not be with him just because things are hard right now.”

You leaned your head back on the couch and sighed. You didn’t want to break up with Harry. If anything, you wanted to move forward and move in with him and do what you’d always imagined: have a good job, have a few kids, try to be happy.

But what if you’d been naive enough to think you could have all of that with Harry and what if this is how you were finding out that you couldn’t?

Were you still stuck in your teenage fantasy of marrying the boy you'd long been crushing on?

She watched you for a second before she reassured: “you’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, glad you’d called Alyssa if only to have someone talk you off the edge a little bit. You missed waking up one room over and her love for basketball games and New York 99 cent pizza.

“Well it’s not like I have to make a decision right now,” you said. “I haven’t even heard back from them. For all I know they could never reach out again because I bombed my interview.”

She rolled her eyes at your self-deprecation and offered a few final words of encouragement before you hung up and promised to catch up soon.

Ever since you’d left, Alyssa had taken it upon herself to keep you up to date on the ins and outs of New York. New restaurant? She’d send you pictures and a 200 word review. Crazy subway rats making the news again? Articles and video proof would be sent your way in a matter of hours.

She’d gotten a new roommate to fill your bedroom and apparently things weren’t always peachy between them. Peyton was quiet and shy--according to Alyssa. She was up every morning at 6am and in the shower at 6:30. She did yoga in the living room and hated it when Alyssa left empty beer bottles on the coffee table.

Alyssa was starting to lose her shit, swearing up and down that she needed to either pull the trigger and move in with Owen or find a new place altogether. It was my apartment first, she’d say. She should leave, not me.

It had been hard that year to leave the city you’d grown to love but harder to leave Alyssa and Carly and the things that made New York feel like home. It was also, in hindsight, hard to leave the place where you and Harry reconnected and built the foundation of your current relationship.

You heard commotion from the front door only a few minutes later when you rummaged through Harry’s kitchen for a snack.

“Hi,” he called from the other room, a close-lipped smile when you stuck your head around the corner to greet him.

“Hi! How was the photoshoot?”

“Good,” he nodded, watching as you stuck your hand into a box of crackers. “What time are we meeting everyone?”

Right--Thursday also meant dinner somewhere downtown with everyone in tow.

“7pm--but Jessie said we should try to get there early since it’s a new place and no one’s ever been.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of your words but seemed distracted, like his mind was somewhere else and his body was the only thing tying him to the room.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking back up at you. “Just a busy day and a busy week.”

You nodded, unsure if he wanted to say more or if you were supposed to have more of a reply than a simple nod of your head.

You’d both been stammering out awkward sentences and trying to dance around the elephant in the room for a few weeks, but now, under his gaze, you felt more uncertain than before.

“Are you okay?” He turned the question around and watched you closely.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, moving to sit on the couch.

“You seem--off.”

You didn’t know what it was. Could he possibly sense the tension in your shoulders as you waited for an email either way? You got the job! We regret to inform you…

Or was he just aware that you felt awkward since it had been almost two weeks since you had any considerable amount of alone time and even longer since you were able to have a date night that wasn’t interrupted by Jeff or Erica or someone who needed something from him.

He took a few steps closer towards you, a look of concern etched on his features. “What’s wrong?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue when he looked at you, eyebrows lifted as he waited for you to spit it out.

“I guess I feel like we’ve been distant.”

He pushed his head forward, almost like he hadn’t expected that to be the issue. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, caught off guard by his pushiness. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up.

“You don’t know?” He pressed.

You broke eye contact with him for a minute, wondering why you had to state the obvious. “Well, you’re busy all the time, Harry.”

He let his shoulders rise and fall in defeat, looking around the room in frustration. “I told you that finishing the album would be busy.”

“Yeah, but you forgot to mention that you’d also be busy when the album is done once promo starts and then tour,” your voice was quiet, not so much angry as you were upset.

You were tired. You wanted nothing more than to spend a night on the couch with him and only him, tell him about LA and about the sudden itch you felt to see more of the world than just London.

But with Jake and Adam always around and Bryn and Jessie, too, paired with interruptions from Jeff and Erica--it felt as if there was no hope for a private or honest conversation.

He came to sit closer to you on the couch now, took your hands in his. “I know my job is a lot, okay? I know it’s annoying that I don’t necessarily get weekends off or have a typical schedule, but once the album is out and the promo is done I’ll have a bit of a break before the tour. We can go on vacation somewhere, just us.”

It sounded nice, maybe a tropical island or a cabin in the woods. But before you could nod in agreement the thought of Los Angeles popped into your head.

His album was due out in December, promo from now through the New Year, some time off in February and March for both of your birthdays and then tour. You had no clue where you’d be by then.

Would you be in LA? Would you be in London? Would you be stuck in this same spot on his couch with decision paralysis and a crushing sense of uncertainty about the future?

He knew you were over-thinking and tilted his head. “What?”

You blew out a slow breath of air, twisted a ring on your finger and then looked up at him again.

You didn’t even have a chance to be more honest, a buzz on your phone on the coffee table in front of you both broke the room in half, the name of the woman you’d spoken to was in bold next to your email icon. You reached for it quickly, Harry’s brows furrowed when you pulled it close to your chest so he wouldn’t see.

“What’s that?”

Hi Y/N, thank you so much for your patience over the last few days. We would love to offer you a position with NBC Universal - E! News as an on-air correspondent in our Los Angeles headquarters.

You looked up at him quickly, cheeks red and heart racing.

“What’s happening, are you okay?”

“I got a job offer,” you said quickly, still holding the phone close to you.

“What?” He smiled, “why didn’t you tell me you were looking? I didn’t even know--”

“It’s in Los Angeles.”

His smile faded instantly, he blinked a few times like he must have misheard you. The leather of his couch felt cool beneath your legs, a clock on the wall ticked and for a second, you wondered if he could hear your pulse as loudly as you could.

He pulled his eyes away from you but then quickly scanned over your face. “Are you taking it?”

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Silence, words filled your brain and crawled up the back of your throat, desperate to be said out loud, in real life, instead of just circling in your head.

Because I don’t know what we’re doing or if we’re moving forward. I don’t know where I want to live. I don’t know if I can stay in London forever. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Only the last part made it out between your lips. “I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he stood up, more angry now as he looked around the room and scratched at the base of his neck. “This kind of feels like a bombshell to drop on someone.”

“I was going to tell you--but we haven’t had a second alone, I just didn’t want to have to tell everyone before I knew what was happening.”

“You didn’t even tell me you interviewed,” he said.

“The last time I saw you alone we got interrupted by Erica three times in one conversation.”

“Probably for a good reason--”

“But you seriously can’t even put your phone down lately when we have dinner, even when everyone else is there!”

“I can’t help it that my work is insanely busy right now!”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” you said this quickly, voice higher than usual and a heat on your skin that he normally didn’t provoke, at least not in a bad way. You stood from the couch and put your hands on your hips. “I don’t know what I’m going to do and I don’t even know if this job is right for me and under no circumstances are you allowed to tell anyone. Especially Jessie.”

He rolled his eyes at that.

“What’s the eye roll for?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone just got back and now you might leave and--”

“I said I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”

He was quiet at that, clucked his tongue in thought but then disappeared upstairs to shower and change.

The car ride over was awkward, he asked how your day had been and you told him you talked to Alyssa, he bristled when you admitted you told her about it.

It wouldn’t be the end of the conversation, you were sure of that. You’d likely end up at his for the night and he’d apologize for being busy, you’d apologize for not telling him and maybe, you hoped, he’d ask you to stay over.

When you greeted Adam with a hug, you ignored Harry’s sour mood and opened the menu in front of you.

“My first dinner as a Londoner,” Jessie smiled, shimming her shoulders in excitement when Bryn looked over the specials across the table from you.

“This is on you, right? New job, new salary?” Jake teased.

“Maybe if I hadn’t just bought a whole new bedroom set,” she rolled her eyes.

“How’s everything with you?” Adam eyed Harry, his question veiled to avoid too many details in public.

Luckily, Harry’s ability to go out in public in London was similar to that in New York. As long as a private room or a table in the back was requested, he could typically get away unscathed if dinner was less than 2 hours and if he had his back to the dining room.

“Fine,” he shrugged, eyes still down at the drink menu.

“Fine?” Jessie leaned forward, her tone insinuating that she didn’t believe him. “You’ve been working really hard all summer and now all you say is ‘fine?’”

He glanced up at her, lips in a forced smile. “S’all good, Jess--just tired.”

Bryn gave you a look, one that asked what stick is up his ass?, before she changed the topic.

“Let’s not tell our server how fit she is tonight, yeah?”

Jake let out a snort of a laugh and sipped at the water that had already been brought to your table. “Alright, you thought the one last week was just as hot as I did.”

“I did,” Bryn agreed seriously, “but I didn’t offer my number unsolicited. How do you know she’s even straight?”

“She’s got a point,” Jessie chimed in. “Remember when you asked that girl to dance in the club when her girlfriend was right there with her arm around her?”

“I thought they were just mates!” Jake defended.

“You also have the worst radar for gay women ever,” Bryn nodded.

“When was this?” Harry asked, the hint of a smile on his face when he watched Jake adjust his napkin on his lap.

The words came out of your mouth without thought. “You weren’t here--you were in LA.”

He met your eyes when you replied, nodded, and then leaned back in his chair, effectively bowing out of the conversation without saying another word.

You weren’t trying to be short with him. You looked over to Jessie, who undoubtedly sensed the tension, and offered a smile. “How’s the flat?”

“Good,” she nodded. “Glad that all my furniture got put together without any scratches,” she reached over and patted Adam on the shoulder.

“We’re not children, Jessie, we can handle some furniture.”

“You broke my dresser when I asked you guys to move it into another room,” Bryn reminded, a look of confusion on her face at Adam’s retort.

“Only because it was already half broken and a piece of shit,” Jake said. “I love you, Brynnie, but that dresser was already knocking on Heaven’s door.”

Harry let out a laugh at that, another memory that he had missed while on a trip to a studio somewhere north of London. He excused himself to the bathroom after you placed your orders, and once he was out of earshot, Jake leaned down and looked at you.

“What’s going on with him?”

You forced a cheesy grin and blinked a few times. “He’s just grumpy.”

“‘Bout what?” Bryn asked.

“Guys,” you leaned back in your chair, hoping you didn’t have to say too much. “I can’t tell you every single thing that happens in our relationship.”

“Well, when it affects us I think we have the right to know,” Jessie shrugged, playing the typical we don’t like when our parents fight card.

“It’s not affecting you,” you shook your head, eyed her seriously over your glass of Pinot Noir.

Adam shrugged, a smirk on his face let you know he was trying to rile you up. “He’s grumpy at dinner and we’re all here and we’re all aware of it. We don’t like tension between you two.”

“Alright, leave the woman alone,” Jake waved them off. “As long as everything’s alright.”

“It’s totally alright,” you nodded, wondering when you’d gotten so comfortable lying to them. “He’s just busy with the next phase of work.”

With Harry’s album yet to be announced, you couldn’t sit around in a London restaurant and divulge details--even if you were all acutely aware of the work he’d put in and the upcoming announcements and events.

Adam let it go. “How’s work for you, Smalls?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “s’good--I told you all about my November cover story, right?”

“Yeah,” Jessie sipped a glass of Cabernet. “But you said you didn’t know who it was going to be with.”

“Well, s’cause I had to drop the bomb on him first,” you nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll be sitting down in a few days with Ms. Gigi Hadid,” you lowered your voice and leaned forward to say her name.

Bryn’s eyes went wide, Jake grimaced.

“How’d he take that?” Adam asked.

“He’s not thrilled,” you admitted. “But I’ll talk with his team about what to avoid specifically, I guess. Her team will probably have a list of off-limits items too.”

Bryn let her elbows rest on the white tablecloth. “Yeah, but, you can’t just ignore the fact that she’s dating Zayn.”

“I also can’t just barge in and stir shit up,” you said.

Harry pulled his chair out next to you and sat back down. “Who are you stirring shit up with?”

Everyone chose to be quiet now--Adam looked down at his phone and Jessie reached for her wine again.

“Just telling them about my cover story,” you admitted, watching his face for a reaction.

He nodded, a tiny smirk in your direction. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stir shit up,” he said, reaching to put a hand on your thigh beneath the table.

Those were the moments that made you feel less panicky--the realization that he was still choosing you and even when the tension was high and the mood was low, he’d reach over and remind you that yes, he cared. Even if he was late to dinner or distracted.

Which is why, when you got back in his car that night and headed for his house, you were surprised when his mood shifted again.

“I’ll just drop you at yours?”

“Oh--yeah, sure.”

“Did you want to come to mine?” He looked over at you like he hadn’t expected any resistance to sleeping separately.

You were quiet for a second--not if he didn’t want you there. “No, it’s fine.”

“I can’t read your mind, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to,” you said quickly, a prickly tone to your words when he made an unreadable face.

He drove in silence for a few minutes, closing in on your neighborhood when the street lamps disappeared for the sake of suburbia.

Eventually he cleared his throat and that sent you over the edge.

“What do you want me to say, Harry? Do you want me to apologize for interviewing for this job?”

“No,” he said simply. “I just don’t know why you thought you didn’t need to tell me about a huge decision like that.”

“It wasn’t a decision until today when they offered it to me.”

“Just seems like something you talk to your boyfriend about.”

You looked over at him in the dark of night, the glow from the dashboard didn’t help you see his features as he turned left onto your street.

“Well, sorry that we didn’t have the opportunity to talk about it between your work schedule and Jessie moving in and group dates--”

He slowed down on your street, put his flashers on when he stopped in front of your building. “I don’t want to keep secrets from each other,” his voice was softer now. “I don’t want to not know what’s going on in your life. I did enough of that for two years when we weren't talking.”

You sighed at this, the sentiment broke whatever anger was lurking inside you and when you looked up to see him, you wondered if you should ask him.

Are we ever going to move in together? Are we ever going to get engaged?

You figured the lead up to his sophomore album wasn’t the best time for that conversation. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you climbed the stairs to your flat alone.

**

A few days later you sat nervously in a conference room and watched as beads of sweat formed on the water glass in front of you. Tyler had brought you in, offered you a breath mint, and promised you’d be fine. When you asked him if the whole room was hot he said it was just you and your nerves--but the droplets of water that raced towards the wooden conference table begged to differ.

You’d gotten email after email this morning: one from Jeff with the rules he and Harry had come up with and eight from Gigi’s team with requests for snacks, topics to discuss, topics to avoid, lunch request, arrival and departure time, and a few extra regarding booking her photoshoot the next day.

A text lit up your screen when you tried to smooth your your hair in the reflection of your screen.

Jake Newcomb (10:42am): In case you’re wondering what to get me for my birthday, a video of Gigi Hadid saying she loves me would be perfect!

You ignored his text and felt a pang of disappointment in your gut, you thought it would have been Harry with words of encouragement.

He was fine with you doing the interview, he seemed to come around to the idea when he met with Jeff and had a chance to mark some things as off limits.

So far, his list was as follows:

Don’t publish anything too negative about anyone in the band (if she says anything negative about anyone in the band)

Harry and Jeff got to listen to the taped interview

Harry and Jeff got to read the article before you sent it off to your editor and could make suggestions to cut things if they felt it necessary.

It seemed silly, but you’d long been used to the lingo of contracts and riders and ground rules for things like these. You knew both Harry and Jeff trusted you, in fact, Jeff was now choosing to see this as a good opportunity for press before the announcement of Harry’s album.

Your biggest concern, truly, was not looking/sounding/acting like an idiot in a room alone with Gigi Hadid. Your second biggest concern was conducting a unique interview and writing a unique article.

You knew that Naomi and Tyler were nearby for support if needed, Tyler had already walked by the conference room three times to see if your subject had arrived and likely to make sure you hadn’t sweat through your blouse. You thought the commotion in the hallway was him until you saw a group of busy-looking people with cellphones and sunglasses.

“Hi,” you stood from your chair, extended a hand in her direction and offered your best professional smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Gigi, thanks for doing this interview.”

She seemed hesitant at first, smiled a little and shook your hand. “Happy to,” she said. She turned over her shoulder and locked eyes with the woman who seemed to be the most in-charge of the group. “I’m good,” she nodded.

They hustled out quickly, you stood frozen in place and watched as she took off her coat before sitting in the chair you’d pulled out for her. Once the door was shut behind her posse, she let out a sigh that bled into a frustrated laugh.

“I could never do an interview with all of them just loitering around--wouldn’t that be so weird?”

You nodded, mirrored her smile and had to remind your body how to move. Left foot, right, breathe, sit in the chair.

You weren’t really one to get star struck, but then again, you didn’t spend too much time with celebrities that weren’t Harry or his close friends. You certainly never sat down with a model like Gigi to have a conversation that could be as awkward as this one.

She checked her phone quickly but then put it face down on the table. “I am happy to do this, I know it might feel weird for us to be hanging out--but boys are stupid anyway.”

You smiled at this, immediately relaxed when she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.

“Did you also get a whole list of things to not talk to me about?”

She stifled a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Zayn can be a man of few words but,” she looked down at your phone on the table. “Off the record--he had quite a bit to say when I told him you were doing the interview.”

“Off the record,” you laughed, “Harry did too. But how is Zayn?”

“He’s good--thinking about getting back in the studio at some point to start working on a new album, he’s been writing a bunch. Harry’s doing the same I assume?”

“Yes, yeah, he’s been really busy.”

“I know things might not have gone great between all of them at the end, but I don’t want this to be awkward for us.”

“Me neither. You can say as much or as little about the band as you’d like.”

She nodded, you figured it was time to give your pre-interview spiel.

“So, I’ll record us in a few seconds, you can obviously say ‘off the record’ if there’s something you don’t want me to include, but I like my interviews to be like conversations, basically. I’ll send someone on your team the recording when we’re done and a typed transcript. You’ll have 48-hours to look over it and revoke any statements that you don’t want me publishing or to clarify anything. After that I’ll write the story, send a final copy to your team before it gets finalized here, again, 48-hours to look it over and request any changes but at that time we don’t have to approve the requests. This is all in a document somewhere that someone probably signed for you--I’m sure your team is used to it, they know what they’re doing.”

You reached forward and pressed a few buttons on your phone, she watched until you looked up and told her: “It’s on now, so we’re recording and today is September 10th, 2019.”

She smiled like you were old friends. “Where do we start?”

“Is there somewhere you want to start?”

She leaned her head to the side. “We can jump right to it--”

“To what?”

“Oh come on,” she laughed. “Us talking about One Direction will make headlines for weeks.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “It’s funny that us just sitting down together will be a big deal, right? As if we’ve got nothing better to talk about than them.”

“Sexism at it’s finest,” she admitted.

“Do you find that a lot in your industry?”

She thought on this for a second, looked out the window but nodded. “It’s unavoidable, in a lot of ways. I think there have been a lot of changes over the last few years to at least move us in the right direction, but we’ve got a long way to go.”

“How would you want to see it change for the better?”

“Well, I’d love to have more privacy about my love life, for one,” she caught herself, looked to you quickly as if she felt bad. “Off the record, we can talk about it here, it’s fine. It’s different to talk about it with a woman, number one. And you’re you, you get it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you offered.

“No, I don’t mind. Unless you plan on asking me stupid things like how amazing is it to be dating someone as handsome as him or do I find that his job overshadows mine, we’re good. We can be back on the record, too,” she looked down at the numbers on your phone, eyeing the ticking of the recording clock.

“But do you know what I mean? No one asks guys questions like that--or they’re different, at least. People just want to know everything about your relationship when you’re a woman and they view you in the context of who you’re sleeping with.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I get that.”

She smiled, “it’s hard to date someone famous, isn’t it? Lots of rules around it.”

You were surprised by the genuine look in her eyes, despite her own status and contracts and income, she seemed to be acknowledging that the two of you shared a unique experience and were now brought together under strange circumstances.

“It’s definitely hard for me--but, isn’t it easier seeing as you also have an assistant and a manager and people to, I don’t know, facilitate things? Not to invalidate how hard it still is.”

She laughed at that, “Yeah, in some ways, probably. He’s really private though, which is good for us. We focus on ourselves and do our own thing most of the time.”

“Right--you seem pretty private about it for the most part.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, reflecting on your words for a second. “I think to me it feels weird that my relationship status can make so much news, you know? Modeling is my job and obviously that’s not your typical nine-to-five but--I like to focus on my work and when male journalists are continuously obsessed with my love life, I find that weird. I mean, you get that, right? I’m sure it’s no different with Harry.”

You bit your lip, embarrassed at how she’d managed to turn it around. She was right--you’d been getting more and more annoyed with how much your relationship with Harry was dictating your life--and for some reason, you admitted this to her.

“People are much more interested in me because I’m dating him--but they’d be just as interested in you even if you weren’t.”

“Would they?” She tilted her head to the side, another rise and fall of her shoulders as she looked around the room. “I get what you’re saying, but sometimes it feels like dating him gave my career a huge boost. I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, I totally get it. I feel the same way. I was building my career in New York and it was going well and I was writing fun stuff and making a name for myself and then I started hanging out with him and--”

“Everyone started to care more about you?”

“Exactly.”

You thought about the headlines, the articles, the pictures in tabloids that undoubtedly helped your name spread like wildfire through London and New York. You had to ignore it, most of the time, reassure yourself that you were a good journalist and a good employee and the good things in your career were not just a byproduct of the boy who slept in your bed.

She smiled knowingly, her lips in a thin line when she looked down to the tape recorder, almost like she felt guilty for steering the conversation in a different direction.

“Sorry,” you cleared your throat, sitting up straight. “Back to business.”

The conversation bled into more normal things: the upcoming fall fashion week, how she manages self-care when she’s busy jetting from city to city, and, try as you might, the two of you wound your way back to your commonalities a few times: sexism in your industries, life as young women dating famous men.

You thanked her profusely at the end and promised that Tyler would be in touch to confirm the date and time for her corresponding photoshoot later that week. She draped a Versace leather tote over her shoulder and seemed to float out of the office with a posse of beautiful people behind her.

You stood--still awestruck--in the hallway and watched as the elevator doors slid shut.

“She’s prettier in person,” Tyler said from beside you, a notebook in hand as he stared at the air she’d once occupied. “I didn’t know if that type of thing was possible but she’s definitely one of the prettiest humans I’ve ever seen.”

“She was nice,” you turned around to see Naomi behind him, also eager for more details. You headed back for your office in a trance, they scurried behind you as you thought aloud. “I mean, I didn’t think she’d be rude--but I didn’t know what to expect with the whole band history stuff.”

“Did you talk about that?”

“Less about the band and more about--” you blinked a few times and sat down at your desk, “sexism, what it’s like to be a woman dating a famous man and how that affects your career.”

Both of their eyes went wide, a smile tugged at Naomi’s lips when Tyler put a hand over his heart in shock.

“I’m sorry, so you’re telling me that you just had a heart to heart with Gigi Hadid about sexism and your boyfriends and--”

“I guess so,” you shrugged, just as surprised as they were.

**

You gave Harry fewer details that night over FaceTime as you brushed your teeth. He was somewhere in New York, disappointed that he’d miss Jake’s birthday dinner and celebration, but he promised to make it up to him when he got back.

He lifted a cup of tea to take a sip, light shone through the window behind him on your screen and he scrolled through emails on his laptop.

You spit into the sink, an ocean between you.

“Have you thought at all about the offer? You have to tell them by tomorrow, yeah?”

You nodded, wiped at your mouth with a towel and then crossed your arms. “I can stay, I mean--if you want me to.”

He made a face at that, leaned forward and furrowed his brows together. “Of course I want you to stay, Y/N, but I don’t want to be the reason you pass on something important."

You were quiet for a second, uncapped lotion before spreading some across your forehead.

"I'm sorry I didn't react well when you told me. I'm proud of you and it sounds like a phenomenal opportunity...I don't know, it's just the timing of it--"

You cut him off, “well none of this is ideal timing, Harry.”

“Do you mean with my album?”

“I mean with any of it,” you said truthfully. “The album, the job offer--”

“Well the album existed before the job offer,” he trailed off.

Only a matter of seconds and a handful of words had managed to get you elevated and angry and ready to fight. That was happening more easily, these days.

“So what am I supposed to do? Always come second? Make every decision in my life based off of your career and your music?”

“S’not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that--I dunno--I thought you knew what you were getting into.”

Quiet, your hands gripped the counter in your bathroom. Your bare feet were on the floor and you wondered why you were trying so hard to make everything work if things were only getting harder.

“That came out wrong,” he shook his head, the look on his face let you know he wanted to take it back.

“No, it didn’t." You let out a sharp laugh. "I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Take the job,” he said quickly, like he saw you reaching for the button to end the FaceTime call.

“What?”

“Take it. If it’ll make you happy, take it.”

“And what about us?”

“We figure it out,” he shrugged. “We try.”

You sighed, unsure what to say.

"It's Los Angeles," he said. "Not Antarctica."

You blew air between your lips, looked up at him for a second. The curl of hair that dipped onto his forehead, the way his mouth pulled up in the corner like it always had.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

His words didn’t offer any relief and you spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning and wondering how on earth you were supposed to make a decision.

Leaving him in London felt stupid. A few bumps in the road and you were ready to jump ship?

But staying and hoping for a ring or a shared address felt even stupider, somehow. You couldn’t pass up a dream job and hope that things would go well for your career if you weren’t going to work for it.

A few hours of rest came after 3am, your morning coffee was a tad bitter and the clouds in the sky seemed to match your mood. Maybe you should have spent more time thinking it over, talking it out, even calling your mum or Katie for advice.

But you couldn’t have told everyone about the job offer without a certain answer, and unfortunately, the person you wanted to talk to the most didn’t seem like he could be impartial.

You’d been upset, you’d been feeling disconnected from him, but that didn’t erase all of the good times and the happy memories you’d made, right?

Naomi and Tyler locked themselves in your office for lunch on Friday, they promised that they’d never tell your boss and they swore they supported you either way. Tyler used an expo marker to make a pros and cons list of staying in London and Naomi came up with a points system for each bullet on the list.

You stared at it, looked at the names of all of your friends, your family, your favorite cafes and restaurants in London. At the very bottom of what had become a long list of reasons to stay was his name.

And on the other side, Tyler’s poor drawing of an engagement ring sat beside a big question mark.

You didn’t know what the future held for you and Harry, and maybe that was okay. You didn’t know what would happen when you packed your life into a suitcase and moved to New York, but you’d survived to tell the tale.

They were quiet, eyes darting from the board back to you as they waited for you to say something.

You sighed, Tyler shifted on the couch in your office and Naomi smoothed out her blouse.

“I can’t take it,” you said.

Tyler’s eyes went wide, “really? You’re staying?”

“I can’t leave,” you shrugged. “I can’t leave him behind and leave my friends and start all over in a new city right as I’m really finding my groove here again.”

“Okay, I know we said we’d support you either way but I would have been fucking pissed if you went,” Tyler admitted, moving closer to wrap his arms around you.

You laughed, let him squeeze you before Naomi joined in.

“Me too,” she confessed, a smile on her face when she pulled away. “But I would have at least faked happy for you.”

You bit back the doubt and second-guessing, used their excitement to fuel a regretful email.

Thank you so much for the opportunity, but after careful consideration I cannot accept this position due to the geographical location.

Your thumb hovered over the small blue arrow, a wave of panic flooded through you when you hit send, like somehow, something inside of you knew that everything was about to change.

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AN: apologies in advance for the cliffhanger......except I'm not sorry lmao