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ttttaehyungie · 4 years ago

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sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 5

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sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

genre | angst, smut, exes au

summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

word count | 5.2k

chapter rating | 18+

warnings | angst, smut (but it’s angsty smut lksjdflk help), nipple play, dry humping, alcohol consumption, someee intense jealousy

a/n | FIRST OF ALL im so sorry this is so incredibly late lskjdflkjs life has been extremely busy for me 😪 but it’s here!!!! thank you to everybuddy who’s been waiting patiently for this 🤧🤧 but i think this is one of the most angsty chapters of the series soooo 🙃

Namjoon’s an expert at avoiding uncomfortable topics, even if they’re massively serious. It’s something you absolutely hated and it was the cause of many arguments in your previous relationship, and perhaps was even the ultimate cause of your breakup.

But right now, you’re really beginning to understand the appeal.

The first time he swung by the museum for lunch after his birthday celebration - a paper bag in hand filled with bagels still warm and toasty from the store on the corner that you adore - you were caught entirely off guard.

Your mind jumps to the unread messages sitting in your texts and you regret ignoring them. Not because the guilt had hit you, but because maybe if you had been contactable, you would have received a heads-up that he was coming by.

Some might call it selfish, but you prefer to call it self-preservation.

To be fair, it’s not like you were going to leave them unanswered forever. You just needed space to collect your thoughts and make sense of your confusing emotions first, lest you begin the conversation prematurely and drag Namjoon down into the dizzying depths of your current state. As it is right now, your thoughts are like nodes floating in a decontextualized void, the web still unformed because you haven’t had the time to grapple with everything yet.

But here he is, inspecting the cross-section of each bagel Soo-eun pulls out of the bag, trying to identify which is which. Yeri’s at his side, gushing about how great the bagels from this place are. The three of them are crowded around the paper bag that sits on the wooden bench, the paint peeling from the way it’s been bleached by the sun in the museum’s outdoor area. Here he is at your workplace. With your friends. You can’t ignore him now, not without rousing your friends’ suspicion.

But what you can ignore is the issue.

It’s not the time nor the place to talk about this anyway. The atmosphere is warm and light, carrying traces of last night’s celebratory mood. The lunch treat is Namjoon’s way of appreciating the surprise you guys organized for him last night. And there’s a bagel stuffed full of salty sweet ham and sticky melty cheese waiting for you to sink your teeth into. Really not the time for serious conversations at all.

So when Namjoon’s eyes search yours, all wide and probing, as you step in to grab your share, you simply smile and thank him, before slinking away to join Soo-eun on the next bench. Not too far - barely five steps away - but far enough that it gives you space to breathe. Even if Namjoon notices your attempts at escaping, he doesn’t have time to call you out on it. Not when you slyly shoot Yeri a wink. Seamlessly, she catches the cue and sits herself down on the bench, tugging at his arm. For once, you welcome Yeri flirting with Namjoon.

“Let’s eat! I’m starving,” she says.

You don’t miss the way Namjoon’s gaze flickers between you and Yeri, but you ignore it and take a generous bite of the bagel in your hands.

“Mm, so good,” you say, and turn to Soo-eun. “Don’t you miss the days before this place got really popular?”

“No, because you and Yeri insisted on going there every day. I can only ingest so many bagels a week.”

“____ hasn’t changed one bit.” Namjoon chuckles. “This time in middle school, she ate tater tots every single day for three weeks straight. She had to be banned for a week.”

“Are you weaponizing my middle school past against me?” you ask amidst your friends’ laughter. “Too bad. I don’t regret it for a second. Tater tots are too delicious to regret.”

Lunch falls back into the easy rhythm of lighthearted jibes, the kitchen debacle receding for now.

Procrastination is a real bitch of a habit to kick. As soon as one reason to put it off expires, your brain churns out another two in its place like a modern-day Hydra.

As for Namjoon? Well, you’re not surprised when he makes no moves to initiate the difficult conversation. After all, you’re adopting his bad habit.

Eventually it gets to the point where you might as well not talk about it at all. Everything’s going fine so far without it. Or as fine as it can be with this beast looming in the backdrop.

You know you need to just get this damn conversation over with. But you can’t. Not till you figure out what exactly is going on with your emotions. Without it, there’s no way you can cauterize the wounds and invalidate your excuses for what they are -- excuses.

It’s not that you haven’t tried. But it’s presenting itself as a real Herculean effort. Mulling it over has you tossing and turning in bed, only leaving you with a headache and a steadily growing desperation. It’s desperation enough that you leave the comfortable warmth of your bed to sit at your desk, shivering as you pen the familiar words once again.

Dear Namjoon,

The words flow in their usual, unrestricted manner. Before, it had been like a dam breaking, the tight restraint that was normally kept on your emotions finally released and the wave of emotions gushing out till it reached a peaceful equilibrium. But now, your emotions are just a whirlpool and your words you pen mimic its spiralling, chasing your thoughts in endless loops.

You’re not over him. But so what? It’s not like getting together is an option. Not when he hasn’t grown out of one of the major things that caused the end of your previous relationship. And not when you haven’t even talked that out, if you ever will.

So what can you do now? Kicking him out of your life will mean having to deal with the loss that his absence will bring again. Going back to pretending the other doesn’t exist will mean dancing around each other again every time you bump into each other in this too small city. And with the way your social circles are intertwined now, that would mean a bunch of explaining to do.

But having him close yet holding him at arm’s length? Walking the narrow margin that is being friends with your ex? A misstep in either direction would be torturous but inevitable - too close and it’s alarming, but too far and it’s a painful reminder that he’s not yours.

Far from the illuminating effect you were hoping it would have, your letter to Namjoon only leaves you deeper in confusion. You throw your pen down. Giving up, you fold the paper up. Sealing the letter in an envelope doesn’t bring the same sense of relief it did before. The Hydra remains unslain.

And so the problem gets shoved away - the same treatment the letter gets as it’s roughly tossed into the desk drawer - into the same corner of the recesses of your mind that your breakup resides in.

You know that Namjoon’s confused. Heck, you are too. It’s a strange dance the two of you are involved in, caught between the compulsion to continue yet knowing the risks it bears. Neither of you are bold enough to take the lead. And so this strange stasis drags on as it has for weeks now.

It’s as if the kiss unearthed something in him. Actually no, it’s unearthed something in both of you. And the tension - the fucking tension - is unreal. The tells are so obvious that you wonder how neither Yeri nor Soo-eun have said anything about it yet. There’s certainly no subtlety in the way his eyes linger on your lips in the middle of conversations that you wonder if he’s even aware he’s doing it.

And when it’s just the two of you? It’s infinitely worse.

It’s hard to blame him. Touch has always been your love language and Namjoon knows it. Physical touch wasn’t just a thing of your previous two-year relationship. It was a thing of your decades of friendship too, the little touches so casual and almost subconscious. Rekindling your friendship without them had taken intentional effort.

You’re not sure who started it. Maybe both of you just fell back into it, the casual little touches slipping their way back in. But what’s not casual at all is the way your heartbeat goes erratic at the most simple of gestures. The way he blithely sweeps the crumbs from your lunch off your lap. The slightly too long side-hug he holds you in, the warmth of his arm around you permeating through the layers you wear and has you simultaneously freezing up while also turning your insides to goo. But it isn’t overtly romantic either.

At least, that’s the excuse you give yourself when the comfort of his touch gets too tempting and you end up succumbing to it. The familiarity of it all makes you feel like you’ve finally arrived home. As if you’ve been on this long, arduous journey and you’re finally here. You get to drop the heavy backpack and rest now.

But the voice of rationality in you tells you this wrong wrong wrong. You’ve got to get out of here.

And that’s how you end up here. White-knuckled grip tight on the edges of the sink as you stare yourself dead in the eyes in the bathroom mirror. The music outside thumps away albeit muted through the door to the ladies’. But the way your heart thumps has nothing to do with that.

Even without shifting your gaze, you can tell that your cheeks are slightly reddened and warm. You can feel it tingling. No, you don’t shift your gaze. It stays fixed on the intense stare that your reflection throws back at you like a challenge, the ferocity of it enhanced by the sharp eyeliner you’re wearing tonight, an uncharacteristic look for you.

Heck, this whole night is uncharacteristic.

You could take the easy route and blame it on Yeri. God knows she can be real persuasive - it’s why she’s excellent at her job. So getting you all out to the club on a Friday night to celebrate nothing other than the simple joy that - c’mon guys, we’re all young and alive and free and tell me that’s not worth celebrating and I’ll fucking fistfight you right here and now even with my freshly manicured nails - is no feat for her.

Still, no one really expected your simple reply, tone nonchalant and eyes still glued to your work screen, “Yeah, I could use a night out.”

Soo-eun had remained silent but you could feel her stiffen slightly beside you. Yeri had been surprised too but more elated that she didn’t have to get through your usual ten solid minutes of whining and half-baked attempts at slithering your way out of it.

But back to the present. Your bodycon dress - one of the rare pieces that survived not just your college partying days but also the wardrobe purge that occurred when you had to downsize everything to fit into the tiny apartment that’s quintessential to city-living - expands with your chest as you take a deep breath. Gripping the hem where it sits mid-thigh, you yank it down slightly. It’s been a while since you’ve worn this dress. And while the younger, more risque version of you that was your college self had been enthralled by the daringness of the dress, your current self has to dig deep to muster up that same boldness.

Relenting as you realize that this is the limit to how much you can stretch the length of your dress, you let go and your fingertips unintentionally brush your thigh as it falls back to your side. It elicits a shudder, the sensation of your own fingers too close to the electrifying feeling of someone’s thumb skimming across it. It was electrifying enough that your brain finally powered up again, voice of rationality sending you skedaddling away, out of reach of his touch, and pathetically seeking refuge in the washroom.

You roll your shoulders back and shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. Standing upright, you look yourself in the eye again. You can do this. You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to have a good time with your friends. You’re going to have a good time with Namjoon. With a nod of affirmation, you turn and saunter your way back to the club with a confidence that has your chin firmly tipped upwards.

You push the door open and look for your friends. The sight that greets you immediately punctures your confidence and your steady posture falls limp.

It’s hard to miss her silvery dress - the dress you knew she would wear and the dress that your very own was meant to counter. It catches the light and grabs attention. And at this moment, it grabs your attention so you can witness Yeri standing between Namjoon’s manspread thighs as he’s perched on the barstool, her hands all over him.

Whatever puffed up confidence you’d had is knocked out of you with that sucker punch of a sight. You turn away, needing to look anywhere but at them.

And that’s when your line of sight falls on a curly-haired man, oddly familiar, and apparently someone you know since he’s waving to you.

“____, hey!” he yells over the music.

“Dong-In?”

He nods and smiles at you. “It’s been a while.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “I was supposed to get back to you on brunch, wasn’t I?” Damn. You’ve been so wrapped up with Namjoon that you totally forgot about Dong-In. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been really caught up with things.”

“It’s no biggie.” He shrugs boyishly. “The exhibition, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sure, the exhibition. Let’s go with that.

“And nothing to do with…” he directs his gaze - and yours along with it - to none other than Namjoon who’s now drinking with Yeri.

Your gaze snaps back to Dong-In and his cheshire grin.

“Nah,” you feign a laugh. “He’s just a friend.”

“The hand he had on you sure didn’t look like just friends.”

“I said we’re just friends,” you snap, then gasp, taken aback by your own outburst. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, I should be the one apologizing. I hit a nerve there, didn’t I. D’you wanna talk about it?” His voice is warm and mellow and oh so inviting. And you very nearly give in.

But you can’t pull him into your problems. It’s not his burden to bear.

“Not really. But thanks, Dong-In.”

“That’s cool.” He nods, and relief fills you. This is what you’ve always liked about Dong-In. He’s chill. “Well since we’re here, wanna get buzzed?”

You laugh. “I won’t say no to that.”

The bar isn’t too far from where you are, and it doesn’t take long before the burn of alcohol is sliding down your throat. Picking up the conversation again, you have to admit, you’d forgotten how easy it is to talk to Dong-In. He’s got that effortless charisma and an easy sense of humor that you can vibe with. Things are simple with him. There’s no line to be tiptoed. Flirting - now that you’re no longer obtuse and you’re finally aware that he is indeed flirting with you - isn’t accompanied by guilt or fear.

And after weeks of this complicated situation with Namjoon, simplicity is what you crave.

“Hey, do you wanna dance?” you ask suddenly. Surprise colors his features for a moment but he laughs it off.

“Is the conversation boring you? You could have just told me to shut up if you wanted me to,” he jokes.

“No!” You laugh. “There’s just a good beat going and-”

“I’m just kidding. I’d love to.” He smiles and grabs your hand.

The two of you weave your way through the mass of gyrating bodies. Lightly buzzed, the fog and the strobe lights blurring everything around you other than your dance partner, you finally find the courage you’ve been searching for this whole time. Dong-In hasn’t been very subtle about checking you out all night, and it gives you that extra boost of confidence that’s finally quelled the antsy thoughts and calmed the fidgety adjustments to your dress’s hemline.

So when his hands find your waist, you step in a little closer and run your hands through your hair, shaking it out and finally letting loose as your hips rock to the pounding beat. Dancing with Dong-In is much like conversing with him- easy and simple fun with just the slightest tinge of excitement. As your hips sway together in languid synchrony, you catch a whiff of the slightly intoxicating combination of his cologne and the undertones of his own natural scent. You give in to the giddying sensation of his hands running lightly over your body and press in closer, eyes fluttering shut, and just feeling. It’s thrilling. It’s risque. It’s-

A solid grip on your wrist yanks you forward and stumbling into a hard chest.

His voice is gruff as he bites out his words, “Get your hands off her.”

“Namjoon?” you gape.

“We’re leaving.” His eyes fix on yours, steely and piercing. A shiver runs down your spine - in all your years of knowing him, you’ve never seen him like this. He tugs on your wrist once more. “Now.”

Dazed by this brand new persona, you don’t even get to say goodbye to Dong-In, just pulled along by the force that is a quietly fuming Namjoon. Everything happens so quickly that it’s all a blur until you’re in the Uber with him, silently clutching onto your purse as an anchor in this sudden whirlwind of events. The anger emanates off of him even in the dimly lit backseat.

“What the fuck?” you whisper, but the shock diminishes the level of conviction in your voice.

He turns to you, the same hardness still in his gaze. “I should be the one asking that.”

“What?!” you snap. In your peripheral vision, you see the Uber driver jump slightly. Lowering your tone, you hiss, “What gives you the right?”

“What gives me the right?” he echoes incredulously, scoffing and turning away from you to face forward instead as he rolls his eyes. “This is ridiculous.”

The car slows to a stop and you recognize your apartment building. You scramble to get away from him. But it seems your confrontation is far from over. Namjoon unbuckles his own seatbelt to follow you.

Terse silence sits between you, the aggravated stomping of your feet as you climb the stairs the only thing that fills the sound.

You turn sharply round the corner, stalking off to your apartment door. “You don’t have to escort me y’know, I’m perfectly capable of getting home by myself.”

“Really?” He folds his arms and leans on the wall next to your door. “It’s hard to trust you when you go off getting drunk and throwing yourself at a random stranger in the club.”

“Is that what the problem is?” You finally ram the key in, and the click as it unlocks is as harsh as your tone. “Sorry to break it to you, but I have a life apart from you. He’s no stranger. His name is Dong-In, he’s Yeri’s friend, and he’s a great guy.”

You shove the door open. Your heels get kicked off and left haphazardly at the entryway, shoe cabinet ignored.

“Wow, some great guy he is,” Namjoon slams the door shut and his shoes get discarded off his feet in the same fashion, “drunkenly feeling you up in a club.”

“Fuck!” You turn, wringing your hands in your hair. Your glares rival each other. “You say it as if I was strung along by him. Well I wasn’t. I initiated it.”

His glare flickers for a moment. He stays silent.

“Just admit that you’re jealous,” you whisper. You unsling your purse and dump it on top of the shoe cabinet, never breaking eye contact.

“Fine.” Namjoon’s gaze doesn’t waver. “I am.”

He skulks forward and traps you between him and the cabinet, gaze holding yours. Namjoon’s always towered over you, but at the moment it isn’t his height that makes you feel tiny.

“Watching his hands all over you like this,” Namjoon’s hands slowly skim the back of your thighs and up your sides and you bite back a whimper, “makes me jealous.”

“And watching you respond like this?” He continues as a firm hand presses the small of your back to close the gap between your torsos. “Glued to him like this? It makes me jealous.”

“You don’t own me,” you whisper but it only elicits a sardonic laugh from him.

“You say that, but you know damn well that’s not the truth. Tell me. Are you jealous?”

“What would I-”

“Yeri.” Damn. Straight through the bullshit. With an eyebrow cocked, it’s obvious he knows the answer and he’s not budging, not even an inch.

“Yes,” you admit quietly. “I’m jealous.”

“Silly girl.” He traces the hemline of your dress. “I only want you.”

A soft keening noise spills out of you. “I’m so sick of holding back.” You tug on his dress shirt, and the feel of his plush lips finally, finally meeting yours snips the final frayed cords of self-restraint you possessed.

Namjoon is quick to reciprocate, and you moan as his tongue licks at your bottom lip. Hooking your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, needing nothing else but to have him close after all this time of distance. He hoists you up, and your legs circle his waist to aid him. The world around you sets into motion as he walks you to your bed, and you anchor yourself by pressing kisses to his neck.

With how tiny your apartment is, it takes no time for him to carry you from the entryway to your bedroom. The cool sensation of your unmade sheets envelops you as he lowers you down onto the bed. He barely gets a moment to appreciate the sight of you, hair mussed and lipstick smudged, lounging on the bed and waiting for him. Desperate for his touch and running out of patience, you gesture to the zip on the side of your dress. Hurrying, he pulls the zipper down as you tug your arms out of the thin straps of the garment. You sit up and let the torso of the dress fall to bunch up at your waist, revealing your bare chest to him.

The quiet gasp that escapes him as he beholds you is infinitely flattering. It’s but a momentary pause. He dives forward into action again. An arm looped around your back to support you as your chest arches upwards, he crouches over you to take one perked-up tit into the heat of his mouth, his free hand coming up to toy with the other. His tongue laves over your nipple in a slippery flick. The other gets pinched and rolled, leaving you gasping at the delicious sensations.

“Namjoon,” you moan out breathily, and it only eggs him on. You whimper as he begins sucking on the bud and wetness pools between your thighs. Your fingernails rake down his back, muted through the layer of his dress shirt.

“M-more,” you plead. He releases your breast and moves his mouth upwards, trailing gentle pecks till he kisses along the length of your collarbone.

“Come here,” he commands, his words breathy and hot as they puff against the thin skin of your clavicle. He scoots back to lean against the headboard, and you follow hastily.

You clamber on top of him, knees bent and straddling his lap as he helps you hike the skirt of your dress up. But before you seat yourself atop the prominent bulge in the lightwash denim of his jeans, he holds you still with a firm grasp on your hip.

His thumb trails the lace detail of your panties, the patterns snaking across your hip bone, baby pink like your dress.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbles. His fingers wander to your clothed core, the material slightly sheer from the damp spot of your arousal. He strokes it tenderly with the pad of his finger, so light that it has you quivering as you hover above him.

His fingernail grazes your slit through the wet material and a gasp catches in your throat. You clench around nothing as carnal desire throbs through your core.

“Namjoon, please,” you whine.

Finally, he gives in to you and pulls you down. Your laced core meets his rough denim-clad one. The stiff material of his jeans pokes through the delicate fabric of your underwear, the friction rough as he drags you over his clothed bulge. The burn is delicious. His hands on you set a slow but steady rhythm that you follow easily, canting your hips in time. It’s enrapturing to watch the way you grind on one another, your clit rubbing up on the apex of his bulge in mutual pleasure.

A finger tips your chin up from the sight you were fixated on.

“Eyes on me.”

It’s difficult. Pleasure has your eyes drooping shut. But the intensity of his gaze compellingly holds yours and you manage, even if barely. His expression is stoic, and it’s only the twitch of his dick that betrays how affected he is. You, on the other hand, are completely abandoned to pleasure. Hands scrabbling across his upper back and up until they settle themselves as fists gripping tufts of his hair, teeth clamped on your bottom lip as moans spill out of you at increasing frequency as your pleasure climbs and climbs and climbs until-

Burrowing your face into the side of his neck, you pant as you cross the peak. Hips now stilled, your climax has you throbbing against his hardened member. You cling onto him with your arms around his neck as you free-fall in the subsiding pleasure. Bare chest brushing against the smooth material of his dress shirt, you catch your breath and yield to the moment.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Shit.” Louder this time. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The regret in his words yank you out of the heady fog of lust. There’s no time to bask in the afterglow. Reality comes crashing down hard and mercilessly.

Suddenly, you feel so small and so exposed. You read his regret as rejection. Your nudity and previous salacious actions make you feel stupid.

Namjoon attempts to extricate your arms from around him, but shame has you clutching to him tighter, hiding your face in his neck. You can still feel him under you, but it’s now an uncomfortable reminder of the act you just committed.

“Hey,” his voice is gentle now, pleading, “look at me? Please?”

You refuse. It’s impossible to look him in the eye right now.

“Fuck.” Even whispered, the panic laced in his tone is blatant. Gently, he maneuvers both of you to turn over. Feeling the mattress underneath you as you’re laid on your back, you release your hold on him and swiftly turn and tug your blanket up to hide away from him.

“____.” He tries. You grip the sheets even tighter as you feel him trying to pull it away from your face. “Please.”

Embarrassment. Guilt. Mortification. They overtake you and you curl in on yourself. You just want to disappear.

“____,” he tries again, hand stroking your head. But you don’t allow yourself to succumb to its comfort. “Talk to me. Please.”

Oh, now he wants to talk.

Why couldn’t you have just talked things out earlier? Why only now when things have fallen apart? Why now when you’ve just done something so stupid and so reckless?

Why now when it’s too late? What can talking possibly do to fix this now?

His pleas are met with silence.

“I’m gonna get you some water,” he says resignedly.

More silence. He sighs. You feel the mattress shift as he gets up. From where you’re still hiding in the stuffy darkness underneath your blanket, you hear his footsteps return and the muted thud of the glass getting placed on your bedside table.

The silence returns, but you can feel his presence. You imagine he’s staring at your blanket lump on the bed.

Finally, the heavy quietness is broken with a deep breath, and you hear him say softly, “Get a good night’s rest, okay? Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”

The light clicks off and you’re plunged into lonely pitch-black darkness. In the distance, you hear the heavy opening and closing of your front door as Namjoon leaves.

Unearthing yourself to the coolness of the night, your dress an uncomfortable lump around your waist, your breasts slightly sore from his previous ministrations, you stare up at the ceiling as hot tears leak out.

It’s well into the afternoon by the time you drag yourself out of bed the next day. Sleep came intermittently and was far from restful, but waking up meant facing the nightmarish reality of what had transpired. So you hid under the covers for as long as you could. But you know you can’t stay there forever.

The buzzing notifications of your phone had woken you up on more than one occasion in the night. But you ignore it and leave your phone next to the glass of water - still untouched - in favor of washing up. It’s more pressing anyway, you surmise. You can feel your make-up, now icky and caked on your face. It’s awful. Your skin is probably revolting against you now and you don’t even want to think about the mess it probably left on your pillowcase. But last night, you were simply paralyzed by the weight of what you’d done, crying till sleep finally came for you.

You take your time going through an extensive skincare routine, even busting out the clay mask you had impulsively bought together with Yeri when it was on discount. You’re doing it because your skin needs the pampering and definitely not because you’re procrastinating getting to your phone.

But there’s only so many steps you can do with the limited skincare products in your apartment. And you know your friends are probably worried about your abrupt disappearance last night. Getting to those messages first, you quickly assure Soo-eun and Yeri that you’re safe at home. Looking at the remaining notifications, you sigh.

Missed calls Namjoon (8)

7 unread messages from 2 chats Namjoon: are you still sleeping? Namjoon: hey, you still asleep? Namjoon: text me when you’re up please? Namjoon: are you awake?

Dong-In: hey! Dong-In: not sure what exactly happened at the end there haha, but it was rly great seeing u again. Dong-In: i’m still waiting on that brunch reschedule, by the way.

Memories from last night come back to you. Dong-In runs his hands through his curls, an easy grin on his face as he leans in to listen to you over the loud music of the club. Things are simple with Dong-In. And, standing on the precipice of a mental spiral whenever you think of Namjoon, the same craving for simplicity from last night returns.

[2:06pm] ____: well it’s a little late for brunch right now

[2:06pm] ____: but you still up to grab a bite?

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secretshinigami · 4 years ago

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A First Time For Everything

Author: @complicatedmerary

For: @misora-massacre

Pairings/Characters: Halle Lidner/Naomi Misora; Naomi Misora, Halle Lidner, and I suppose Raye Penber is there, too, I guess :p

Rating/Warnings: General; brief alcohol mention

Prompt: Halle and Naomi go on a blind date

Author’s notes: Hello, hello! After writing Naomi on the other fic I gave you, I got inspired to continue writing her, especially with this intriguing prompt. I had my eyes set on a regular dinner date, but it was so boring, I had to think outside the box. How about the gentle appeal of a wlw romance of what-ifs and cherished memories? Now that is more like it! You deserve a good time after the stress of the BB fic, so, hopefully you will enjoy this! Also, the friends’ names? Totally intentional. :)

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“What do you think about sunsets, Naomi?”

“Hmm?” Naomi shook off her tiring trance. It had become the standard for Naomi to be absentminded every single time Raye wanted to have a party. In this case, he expressed desire to show off to the whole city that him, Raye Penber, had finally gotten brave enough to propose to his girlfriend, Naomi Misora. It was cute, really, Naomi thought, but a single text and some phone calls would have sufficed. She was not a big fan of crowds; he should know that already. Right?

“I said, what do you think about sunsets?” Raye embraced Naomi from the side and kissed her cheek.

She smiled. “I think they are nice, very romantic. With the right person, that is.” Especially on a nice balcony overlooking the city, as the crowd is engrossed in their own little world. Thin fingers wrap around hers, her thumb gently rubbing on the underside of her hand. Naomi looked intently at their hands and her heart skipped a beat as a rush of fluttering feelings vibrated in her stomach. Was that what they meant when they say you have “butterflies” inside you? She did not seem to mind at all, like she was used to the effect she caused because of her beauty and enthralling disposition. How many girls were they before her? Why did she care? It was not as if she was ever going to see her again. Perhaps she should give her number, make sure she never forgot about her.

“You seem deep in thought.” Her blonde hair was gently blown from the crisp breeze, it was almost too perfect.

“Hmm?” A distraction from her ramblings inside her head, but not quite. Naomi was more transfixed by her amber eyes than anything else. How can a woman be this beautiful?

Raye’s watch beeped loudly, the recreation of her memory evaporating like water. “Whoops, it’s almost time. You would not mind helping me with the drinks, would you? You are such a good mixer; our guests would appreciate it.”

He clearly meant his guests with maybe two of her friends. “Right, no problem.”

At this rate, a drink was not such a bad idea.

God, she needed a drink.

She could not believe she was looking forward to this. Cathy was so vague about this Hal guy, but what was said intrigued her. All she knew was that his name was Hal Bullook, he had blond hair, brown eyes, and he was at least over five feet and ten inches. Also, he was a CIA agent. A total dreamboat, Cathy promised. Hal has heard plenty about you, she also said. She gulped. Cathy had no filter; if she told him some embarrassing facts (like the milk slipping accident from work), then she would be mortified. Then again, maybe it will make her endearing and cute in his eyes, there was nothing wrong with that.

Today was a gathering between members of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the Central Intelligence Agency, and other local governmental organizations; it was not for business, this was a regular party to get everyone together for a job well done. Plenty of fun to spread in one evening, it was bound to be unforgettable.

This was the most obnoxious party Naomi has ever been to and Raye had finally beaten his own record.

Maybe she was the one who did not understand how parties worked, but if this was an engagement party, then why was there a group of guys watching sports on her television, in her living room? And where were Cathy and Shoko? Did they miss their invitations, or did they ditch her for something else?

“Raye,” Naomi hissed, snatching him away from the group and setting him aside.

“Naomi, what was that all about? You can’t just barge in when someone is having a conversation.” Raye shook his head in disappointment.

“This is out of control! I thought the whole point of this party was to share the news. I was asked to bring snacks into the living room as if I was servant and not the main co-host. Do you realize how humiliating this is?”

“Oh, Naomi, I’m sorry, no one should treat you like this. Tell me who did it so I can tell them to leave.”

Naomi sighed. Raye could be dense sometimes, but gosh, he was too sweet. Was she making a big deal out of nothing? “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll get bored soon. By the way, have you heard from either Cathy or Shoko? You did invite them, right?”

“No, I have not heard from them, but they should be coming soon. Cathy is always late, remember?”

That was true, but that did not explain Shoko’s absence. Unless … “If they decided to arrive together, then that would explain everything.”

“Are you sure you are okay, Naomi?” Raye placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry if my friends had other plans, but I promise we will make the announcement together. Just … give it some time until the mood has been set, okay?”

“Fine,” Naomi mumbled. “You did promise.”

“Thank you,” Raye pecked her lips. “Excuse me for one second.”

The doorbell rang and Naomi perked up. In an instant, both Raye and Naomi gathered by the door and let it swing open. The sight made her smile. Speak of the devil; Cathy and Shoko were just late after all.

“Wow, girl, look at you,” Cathy giggled. “You are an absolute knockout.”

And indeed, she was. Naomi was wearing a silky, black dress, her legs accentuated tastefully by the knee length and the six-inch black heels. Her long hair had been waved with a curling iron and her makeup was subtle yet elegant. Caramel lips and a brown smoky eyeshadow, she looked flawless.

“Hopefully, I did not overdo it,” Naomi shrugged.

“Nonsense, you look perfect, if you don’t make heads turn, then they are missing out.”

Naomi gave a small twirl. “I hope Hal likes me.”

“Yeah, Hal …” Cathy fiddled with her bracelet, looking to the side. “Come on, let’s go, we can’t be late.”

“You do realize you are late, right?” Naomi teased Cathy.

“Yeah, yeah, that was bad.” Cathy blushed. “But I have a good excuse this time. Traffic was a nightmare.”

“You say that every time.” Naomi drank from her glass.

“It’s true, though!” She widened her brown eyes to appear more innocent. “I know I have concealed the truth from you before, but I’m not lying right now. I have bad luck, that’s all.”

“Fine,” Naomi could not be bothered to continue this discussion. “I forgive you.”

“And that’s why you are a great friend, you are willing to look past my flaws.” Cathy giggled.

At approximately 4:30, Naomi and Cathy arrived at the gathering, prepared to have the greatest time possible. Naomi was transfixed by the amount of silver decorations the room had all over. It was as if there was plenty of money invested to make it look pretty. And from the corner of her eyes, she saw the type of food that was set on the table. It was a banquet full of delicacies that range from a fancy ham and an elaborated fruit salad.

At least she felt better about her dress code.

“Wow,” Cathy gasped.

“I know,” Naomi replied. However, there were more concerning issues. If she could find Hal, perhaps they could crack a joke about how this gathering’s budget was blown for appearances. Then again, there was the possibility that he could have a terrible sense of humor. She had to thread lightly. Now, where he could be among this sea of professionals? Funnily enough, she did not catch a lot of men that were at least taller than five feet and ten inches, so perhaps Hal was in the bathroom.

She stood there in her spot, darting around for a sign of a tall blond.

Well, she did see a tall blonde woman among the crowd, but that was definitely not Hal. Their eyes aligned and she waved at her, smiling. Naomi waved back. She must be a coworker she had never notice before, it would have looked bad if she ignored her.

However, where was he?

“What are you doing?” Cathy took her arm and dragged her in the middle of the room. “That is your date, come say hi to Halle. Hey, Halle, here she is!”

Halle? What was Cathy talking about? No, she must have been confused, Hal was somewhere around here, this had to be a joke—

Hold on a second.

This was a joke. Blonde hair, brown eyes, she seemed taller than five feet and ten inches, especially with those high heels …

Did she miss something? Did Cathy set her up with a woman all along?

“Who is Shoko’s friend?” Naomi pointed towards a young-looking man standing next to Shoko.

“Oh, that’s her new boyfriend,” Cathy shrugged. “I barely know him, he is new in town.”

“Huh,” That was all Naomi could say. Shoko’s dating habits were … unusual to say the least. That was not a negative thing, she reassured herself, Shoko was an attractive woman. With her sleek, dark brown hair, high cheekbones, and slender figure, she attracted men like honey. If Cathy can call herself unlucky, Shoko was the opposite. It was hypnotizing, really, how Shoko threw her head back with laughter and remain poised. Her boyfriend was cute and all, but he could not hold a candle to Shoko. He almost looked … average next to her.

“Wow, could you stare any harder?”

“Hmm?” Naomi was shaken from her train of thoughts.

Cathy raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms against her chest. “If I did not know any better, you still like girls. Does Shoko know that you have a crush on her?”

“Shh, Cathy, that’s enough,” Naomi set her aside. “No, I don’t have a crush on Shoko. Also, can you keep it down?”

“Wait, Raye does not know about you and Halle, does he?”

“Shh!” She raised a finger over her mouth. “No, and I would like to keep it that way. That part of my life is done for.”

“You literally stared at Shoko like you wanted to kiss her.”

“Cathy, can you drop this?” Naomi backed away. “I’m with Raye and that’s all there is to it—" When she turned around, she bumped into a guest and her glass spilled on her white blouse. The sound attracted lurking heads to witness the disaster, including Shoko’s.

“Naomi!” Raye came to the rescue with a paper towel. “Don’t worry, I can fix this.”

Humiliating tears sprung from her eyes, her shame hot against her cheeks. She waved Raye from her sight and ran towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

Forget about the ruined blouse, why couldn’t Cathy mind her own business? Sure, it led to something wonderful once, but that was in the past.

Was it?

“Is she gorgeous or what?” Cathy smirked at Halle. “Naomi was looking forward to this day.”

Naomi wanted to cry from the humiliation. What did she do to deserve this?

“That makes the two of us,” Halle laughed, it sounded so warm and clear. “Thank you for helping me out, Cathy.”

“Could you excuse us for a minute?” Naomi flashed a pained smile as she set Cathy aside away from Halle, into the women’s bathroom.

“You lied to me!” Naomi whispered in anger.

“I’m sorry, okay? I met Halle in a case, and she told me that it was hard getting dates when you are a lesbian and one thing led to another and we started talking about you.”

“What. Did. You. Tell. Her?”

Cathy sighed in defeat. “That you were single and that you were totally a lesbian, too.”

“What?” Naomi was flabbergasted. “When have I ever given the impression that I was into women?”

“I mean,” Cathy waved her hands to Naomi’s sides as if her mere presence was the logical explanation. “You love to wear leather, I have never seen you in a skirt, and you ride the sturdiest motorcycle I have ever seen. Can you blame me?”

“What is wrong with you?” Naomi snapped. “I am appalled that you would do something like this. You made me believe I was meeting a guy named Hal … Oh, my God, Halle, Hal … You mispronounced the name on purpose because you knew deep down that I was never going to be okay with this.”

“I did this because I thought you knew that you were a lesbian all along and I was trying to keep it undercover for your sake!” And now Cathy was crying with tears rolling down her face. “You have to realize that I did not do this with bad intentions, I care about you, you are my best friend, I was trying to help.”

Naomi merely shook her head and sneered. “Don’t ever speak to me ever again.” And with that, she stormed from the bathroom.

“Wait, please!” Cathy collapsed on the marble floor and continued crying on her knees.

Crying was useless and a waste of time, she needed to get over herself. Naomi washed her face and wiped water with a towel, taking a deep breath to take some control back to her senses. She was going to pretend that the issue was the stained blouse and move on.

Fortunately for her, the focus was on that stupid sports game, and she was able to sneak to the bedroom and change her blouse into a regular long-sleeved, black turtleneck. She breathed out a sigh of relief. There, it was as if nothing happened.

She was not going to let this train wreck ruin her chance to have a good time, but she needed some time alone. The balcony was impressive, and it gave her the space necessary to come back to the party when she was ready. She looked ahead to the horizon and thought back to what Cathy said. Could there be some truth to her words? Sure, she did struggle getting dates with men, but surely that had nothing to do with her being into women, right? Her mind dwelled on Halle’s face and she groaned. Poor Halle, she was involved in this mess whether she liked it or not and she did not know to properly apologize to her. “I’m sorry my friend told you I was a lesbian?” Yes, that would go over well.

“If I didn’t know any better, it seems that I was not who you expected.” A familiar voice rang in Naomi’s ears.

She turned around and released a pained sigh. There she was, standing tall, unfazed that there was drama in the first place because of her. She was so put together; Naomi was almost jealous that Halle had better control of her emotions than she had.

Those CIA agents must be operating on a league like no other.

Naomi cleared her throat. “Oh, no, that’s the problem, you were described perfectly.” With an excluding factor, that is.

“Listen, I understand that blind dates can be weird, but I was willing to take a chance because it’s not every day that I get to know someone who is in the same line of work who is also into women.” Halle shrugged. “Does that make sense?”

Oh, how was she going to break it to her that she was probably not a lesbian? And yet, those words never exited from her mouth.

“It does make sense,” Naomi nodded her head, smiling. “I’m sorry about before, you are right, blind dates are weird. It could have been way worse.”

Halle chuckled. “What, like dating a serial killer?”

Naomi burst in laughter. “Oh, God, can you imagine? What are the chances of that happening in real life?”

“Believe it or not, it is way more common than you think. Thankfully, both of us are safe.”

She had to admit, Halle was funny. At least she could check off “sense of humor” off her list.

Huh. Hm.

“Just out of curiosity,” Naomi said breezily. “Did Cathy tell you anything interesting about me?”

“You mean like the ‘Milk Slipping Accident’? Yes, if that is true, you are hilarious.”

It was not surprising Cathy told her that story, she was expecting nothing less.

“It would be better if you heard my version of the story, I was the main instigator, after all.” She beckoned Halle to stand beside her. “Come on, I bet Cathy left off some important details.”

Whatever was going on inside did not matter when the woman in front of you also shared interesting stories of her own. One thing that Naomi learned from this fiasco was that perhaps the reason why dating men never worked out for her was because the spark was simply not there. With Halle, however, once the awkwardness went away, it just made sense. A part of her was still struggling with this newfound source of self-discovery, but once she allowed to just let herself be, it was comforting. She already admitted that she never dated another woman before today (which made Halle laugh, oddly enough), perhaps Halle would make this journey easier for her with no judgment.

“Sorry to interrupt you, but I’m just noticing that the sun is about to finally set.” Halle remarked.

“Do you like sunsets?”

“I think they can be romantic with the right person. Other than that, they are just nice.”

“Have you done this before?”

“Watched the sunset with someone else? Not romantically, no, but I always wanted to.”

“Well,” Naomi offered her hand. “There is always a first time for everything.”

Fast forwarding to the once evaporated memory from Naomi’s mind, after a tentative silence from both women, Naomi and Halle shared a kiss, the first of many that were set to come after Naomi insisted to at least see each other one more time. Unbeknownst to her, Cathy caught them in that embrace and never spoke one word to Naomi about it to avoid confrontation.

The following week, Halle organized a picnic date near a hill to enjoy the serenity of the lack of crowds. Naomi enjoyed herself on the mat despite the cold weather. She did not mind because she could just ask Halle to give her a jacket.

The less they talked about their eventual separation to get back to their normal, working lives, the better. If there was one thing Naomi learned from this experience is to just allow herself to be at peace with the present.

“Naomi?” Raye knocked on the door, the interruption of her thoughts never stopping her peace.

It seemed that Naomi was staring at the wall all this time. “Yes?”

He opened the door and sheepishly peered from the view. “I think it’s time.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“I kicked out the rowdy people out of here, we shouldn’t encounter any more disasters.”

Naomi chuckled, embracing Raye’s neck. “They should have been kicked out way earlier, but I forgive you.”

“Oh, you forgive me?” Raye mused out loud. “You are right, I should have listened to you all along.”

She gave him a firm kiss. “At least you are learning.”

A loud clink could be echoed across the living room, striking attention from every angle.

“Thank you all so much for coming,” Raye began. “I know my parties are bound to be entertaining, and for good reason, but we have an announcement to make, and after this, we can properly celebrate.”

Naomi raised her right hand, allowing the sparkle of the diamond ring to bling bright. “We are engaged!”

Shoko was the first to voice her excitement and soon everyone else follow with cheers and claps.

Raye squeezed her from the side and beamed with pride to finally give up this announcement. Naomi felt celebratory for a moment, but her smile faded slowly as her mind decided to ignore the noise until it turned into a blur. She somehow felt … empty.

“Look, Halle, the sun is setting,” Naomi pointed at the sky.

“Crap, we have to go back,” Halle began to stand up from the mat.

“Are you kidding? I have never seen a sunset from a hill, let’s not end the fun just yet.”

“Well, if that’s what you want, I suppose we can stay longer.” Halle went back to the mat and embraced Naomi from behind, allowing her to settle against her.

Even when the sun set into dusk, none of them were willing to leave each other’s arms.

#fanfiction #death note #submission #naomixhalle #Naomi Misora #halle lidner #Raye Penber #complicatedmerary #misora-massacre #Mello's Birthday Mayhem 2020

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strongsassysexysloane · 5 years ago

Text

It Was Like A Movie

Summary: Whats an innocent movie night amongst friends? Every Friday night, for months? What are these feelings when Jack changes plans?

I needed an excuse to write fluff while in amongst writing so much Angst.

… .

You don’t know when it had become your weekly routine but sometime ago Friday nights had turned into movie nights with Jack. Mostly at your place because you had a ridiculous amount of movies. Most you got from Tony before he left and others you’d collected over the years. Jack always brought over the icecream and you order take out. It was something fun and chill to do after a long week and neither of you liked it when a case got in the middle of your plans.

“So pizza?” Jack slipped off her boots, hung her beige trenchcoat up and walked into your living room where you were sitting cross legged on your sofa. She walked past the couch, into the kitchen and placed the icecream of the night in your freezer.

“Is that even need to be asked?” You huffed, flicking through the pizza menu on your phone.

“We had it last week!” She laughed, walking back into the living room and sitting down on the couch beside you, grabbing her already full glass of wine.

A smile spread wide across your face and an eyebrow raised at her attempt at a complaint. “And?”

“You’re insufferable.” She laughs and bumps your shoulder, leaning over to read the menu with you even though you both know what pizza you both like.

“We can order something else?” You needed to offer just in case she was serious in her attempt to change your mind.

“I never said that.” She nudges your shoulder again and you can only chuckle at her antics, she was the insufferable, incorrigible one.

“You drive me nuts.” You sigh and continue scrolling down the menu.

“Thank you.” Jack said it like a proud accomplishment with a cheeky grin curving her lips. She rests her chin on your shoulder and you lean your head against hers.

It only takes a few minutes and you both decide on one ham and pineapple with cheesy garlic bread. To be fair you usually only get normal plain garlic bread but you felt like the added calories were needed. The case you just wrapped was a long, hard one.

“And the one before that wasn’t?” Jack sniped and you sighed with your lame excuse.

“Just drink your wine and pick a movie. It’s your choice tonight.” You breathed and took a long sip of your wine. It wasn’t the nicest wine but it was doing the trick. You could feel your muscles starting to relax.

Jack scanned the shelf for a movie, holding her glass in one hand and slipping her other into the back pocket of her jeans. You knew she was only dragging out her perusal of your selection. She’d had a few in mind since last week, she was slowly going through all your soppy romantic movies. Something about enjoying the fairytale on screen because it never worked out like that in real life.

On queue she selected the dvd, slipped it into the player while you refilled your glasses and grabbed the blanket from behind your sofa before sitting back down. You were ten minutes into the movie when the pizza arrived and enjoyed the icecream towards the end. It was another perfect relaxing movie night. Jack had enjoyed too many glasses of wine because she insisted on opening the third bottle of wine into the second movie with the second bowl of icecream. She crashed on your couch, just like the time before and you left some advil and a glass of water on the coffee table for her when she woke up.

The next movie night was postponed until Saturday night because of a case that only wrapped up Saturday morning. You told Jack that you could just have it next Friday but she insisted she needed the movie night. She’d just have it by herself if you didn’t feel like it and of course you couldn’t have that.

“Let me guess, pizza again?” Jack teased as she shut your front door and hung up for denim jacket on your coat rack.

You laughed and shook your head. Her sass was on fire for the past few days. Kept you awake and on your game when you just wanted to crumble on the floor because the case was just too draining. A child had been kidnapped and held for randsom. Something you’d never get use to. Gibbs, obviously, was extra grumpy but so was everyone. McGee was wokring himself to the bone because he just couldn’t seperate his kids from the situation, kept thinking if it was his twins. So when everything came to a head this morning you were all running on empty.

You heard jack walk in and hop up on your breakfast counter. “What are you cooking? Thought we did takeout on movie nights?” The curiosity peaked in her voice, her eyes watching you move and almost float around your kitchen.

When you got home, you couldn’t sit still so you decided to cook. It was one thing you did when you needed to relax and take your mind off things. Another thing you needed after a rough case was comfort food and this is how you came to be making your grandma’s mac and cheese. “You love my cooking! And movie nights are Friday nights and I needed the distraction.” You let out a deep sigh with the last word. Jack would no doubt ask you what’s up because she knew cooking was a stress relief for you. Better to just bite the bullet.

“Smells scrumptious. I figured you might had wine but it seemed like a beer kind of night.” You looked over your shoulder and saw jack lifting out two beers from the cooler she had perched beside her on the counter and handed you one.

“You know me too well.” You stopped stirring the cheese sauce for a moment to bang the lid on the counter and it came flying off. It was a skill you’d perfected over the years.

Jack laughed and handed you her beer just to see you do that again. “You need to teach me that.” She hummed, swigging her beer.

“Nah, have to have one thing on you. You already own me at Darts and I use to be a pro at that from college.” Turning back to your cheese sauce, it’s almost ready so you take it off the stove while the macaroni cooked. “How about you pick a movie while I put this in the oven.”

“But it’s your turn to pick?”

“I know but i’m busy. So you pick this one and I’ll pick the one after that.” You quickly move around the kitchen, straining the pasta and mixing it in the sauce.

The mac and cheese was a hit, not that you had any doubt that it wouldn’t be. There was too much cheese for it not to be and mixed with Jack’s beers it was perfection. The movie was an easy watch and you chatted throughout. You were glad she insisted on the movie night tonight, for some reason you didn’t think you could be alone after his case.

“Wanna stay over? We can head to the markets in the morning?” You said it lightly, trying to not sound desperate and put pressure on her but by her sweet, soft smile you knew she wanted to as well.

“Okay. Sounds great. Another then?” Jack got up from her spot close beside you on the couch and grabbed two more beers from the fridge. She brings them back and lets you do your thing with the caps against the coffee table. You like that it makes her laugh and smile. She rests her arm along the back of the couch and you rest back into it.

The one night movie turned into three. You’d dozed off a few times throughout the third one to which Jack giggled at but she was asleep by the end. You managed to hop up without waking her and stretched out her legs so she wouldn’t have a sore body in the morning. The blanket that was already spread out over you both, you tucked it around her and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. She was so cute and peaceful when she was asleep. Like no sass or smart ass remark could never cross her lips. Like many times before you placed a glass of water and Advil on the coffee table and went to bed.

This was the routine now. She’s more than likely crash on your couch unless she had any plans the next day and you’d happily let her. She was nice company and you’d become best friends over the past few months. Always bantering and grabbing coffee whenever you could. Unfortunately work had gotten hectic over the next month so movie nights weren’t as routine.

This week’s case was actually not that intense. Just a lot of paper trail, no body or gruesome murder. It was a nice change. Some had just tried to get away with robbing the wrong Admiral. Was there a right person to rob?

Jack waltzes into the bullpen, stopping right in front of your desk. You look up from your computer with a bemused look on your face “Hey sorry to be a party pooper.” Her face saddens slightly, she shifts her eyes around nervously and you suddenly don’t want to know what’s coming out of her mouth next. “Can I do a rain check on tonight’s move night? My date tonight off instead and asked if we can change it to tonight?” She doesn’t look you in the eye. She looks around at the objects on your desk, her fingers fiddling with your posted note stack before she finally looks at you.

You can see she’s torn, you don’t want to have to make her choose and be the reason she’s not happy. After all it was just move night, you two could do it any other time. Although you’d missed last weeks because of a case and the week before was cut short because you got a call to a case. This job really knew how to stuff up your plans.

“It’s fine Jack.” You plaster on a smile and wonder why this is hurting you so much. It was just movie night with Jack. Friends ditched friends plans all the time to go on dates.

“You sure?” She seems nervous for some reason, all her tells are showing and you can’t think why.

Her fingers shift to run along your photo frame and you reach up and halt her movements with you hand. Resting your hand on top of hers, the simple gesture shocks her, you can see her eyes widen slightly which makes you pull your hand away. “Absolutely, it’s just movie night.” You grimace slightly at how easy that came out and how wrong it sounded. Why did it sound so wrong?

Jack nods slowly, still unsure about your answer but then shrugs. The movement instantly changes the mood and she smiles. “Great, now I have to find an outfit to wear.” You both laugh and she walks out of the bullpen. Your eyes catch Ellie’s who is looking at you knowingly. She’d come along to a few movie nights in the beginning but then ditched saying she had other plans and never rejoined again.

The rest of the day was boring. You couldn’t concentrate. Your mind always going back to how hesitant Jack was to ask you about the rain check and how weird you felt about it. She was just your friend right? Best friend? You really enjoyed spending time with her and all. But both of you had but a line in the sand a while back. Not interested. Ellie had teased you both and you both joked it off saying you were just friends. You shared a look and that was that.

You groaned and got up from your desk, you needed chocolate because the realisation just hit you like a tonne of bricks. You hated the idea of Jack going on a date instead of spending the night at your place. You enjoyed her company, her smile, her laugh, just about everything that was her. No matter what you’d both said weeks, months ago that feeling had never changed. You’d just been lying to yourself about it. Hoping that the lie would ring true. She just wanted to be friends so that’s how it was going to be. And you’d be the supportive friend that just want to see her happy, even if it was with another person.

The vending machine didn’t have the right chocolate you wanted so that made the rest of the afternoon even worse. By the time home time hit, you couldn’t get out of the office fast enough. You preemptively bought enough ice cream for you and Jack the night before so now you had it all to yourself and that would just have to do for tonight. The movie you had picked, because it was your turn, would have to wait. You couldn’t watch it without Jack plus it was a silly rom com. You only watched those with Jack, how you’d managed to lie so well to yourself for so long was beyond you.

Your apartment seemed less inviting when you got home. Not as inviting as it had been when you left this morning. The shower helped a bit, so did the chocolate icecream. You were half way through the small tub (you never bought large ones just in case you had the urge to eat it all. Tonight you had that urge.) when there was a knock at your door. The buzzer didn’t sound so it must be one of your neighbours, you looked down at your sweat pants and sloppy joe and shrugged, your neighbours had definitely seen you in worse. You’d definitely seen some of them in worse. You shuddered at the memory of seeing Mr Johnson on the bottom floor, mowing his little patch of lawn last summer in just his underwear. He wasn’t a fit man, he also liked a lot of takeaway.

The knock came again and you shook the image out of your head and walked towards the door. You peeped through the little spy hole and was shocked to see that it wasn’t your neighbour. Now you really wished you’d chosen something nicer to wear but she wasn’t meant to be coming tonight.

“Jack, what are yo-?” You stepped back as she sprung into your apartment, not giving you the time to step properly out of the way. She seemed frazzled. Where was her date? “What happened, weren’t you on a-?”

“Got to the bar and turned around.” She was chewing her thumb nail. She was adorable whenever she did that but you knew something was definitely bothering her because that’s what she did. “Needed to ask you a question.” Her hand moved away from her lips and she paced the small area of your living room.

You close the door and turn back around to her. She’s still pacing and it’s very unsettling. “You couldn’t text me? What’s so important you had to run out on -” She was having a good effect on cutting off your sentences tonight. Her deep frown and sudden stop in pacing caused you to rethink what you were going to say. “Sorry, what do you need to ask me?” You can’t help but swallow. She was making you nervous now and the outfit she had on wasn’t helping your case.

Jack was wearing your favourite dress of hers. It was white with an intricate pattern all the way down and along the sleeves, you’d say it was pretty see through too but it wasn’t revealing. It fit her perfectly and she looked stunning (As per usual). She shifted back onto her heels, which was dangerous considering she was in heels but you suspected she’d be able to run in heels so a little balancing was easy.

“Why did your smile and words seem so forced in the squadroom today? Like you said it’s fine and it’s just movie night but it didn’t seem.. fine.” Her eyes were boring into yours now, you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to.

The question wasn’t at all what you were expecting, you weren’t sure what you were expecting. This wasn’t meant to be happening. She was meant to be across town having a date while you sulked and ate your feelings away in the form of chocolate icecream. You ran your hand through your hair, feeling very in the spotlight right now and you hated the way Jack was looking at you. Analysing your every twitch and shift.

“Why does it matter to you so much?” You knew answering her question with a question was a dangerous move but you couldn’t answer her honestly. How could you? You didn’t want to ruin your friendship with this incredible woman, you didn’t want to risk that. You couldn’t!

You saw the disappointment cross her face, she wasn’t doing very well at hiding her feelings right now. Your wall was barely standing at this point.

“Jack, I can’t answer your question and I don’t want to lie to you.” The moment those words left your lips, you couldn’t look at her anymore. Your eyes landed on her feet then on the floor beneath them because even looking at her feet hurt. You felt so stupid.

Jack took a step towards you and then another. You saw her hand reach up before you felt her cup your cheek and you couldn’t help but lean into her touch. Her thumb moving softly back and forth across your cheeky slowly. She ever so slowly guided your head back up so you had to look in her eyes, the distance between you was small. You could now smell her perfume, it invaded your senses and you didn’t like it. Not that it didn’t smell good, it just didn’t smell like her. You loved her scent (you realised how stupid), the smell of her floral shampoo, mixed with her cherry blossom hand moisturiser and something else you couldn’t quite name. It was just Jack.

“Jack..” The words didn’t come, they couldn’t. How had it all gone so wrong in the last 8 hours?

“Y/n, I didn’t want to go on this date tonight. I wanted you to say you wanted me to come over. That we missed last week’s and it’s too difficult with our job’s to get a night off together.” She eyes were soft, sad and her thumb was still stroking your cheek softly.

“Together?” You breathed. Trust your brain not to respond to her properly right now. That was the word or part of her speech that you were hung up on?

“I know we said things a while back about us, not being an us but..” She drifts off and you are hung up on her words.

“But?” There was too much hope and possibility in that word. She saw your eyes light up, hers did too when she saw the possibility become a reality.

You watch as her eyes flick down to your lips, you can’t help but part them slightly. Your breath hitches when she moves in closer, your noses brush against one another and her hand on your cheek curves round, her fingers splaying into your hair to draw you forward. Her lips ghost over yours, her bottom lip catches yours and you can’t help but let a soft whimper escape. Jack captures your lips then, like the whimper was all the confirmation she needed. Your hands cirlce around her waist, pulling her in close, her other hand rests at the base of your neck, helping her dominate and guide the kiss. Her tongue glides along your lip and you give her enough room to slide her tongue along yours, letting her explore and devour you in one.

Breathless you both pull apart far enough to catch some far too important oxygen. Your arms still wrapped around her waist, keeping her close. Her hands still in place, keeping you still. “What was the answer you couldn’t tell me?” Her eyes dancing mischieviously, her lips curving into a sweet, teasing smile.

“That I wanted you to be with me tonight. That I want you to be with me every night. That those words I said were just a lie I’ve been telling myself and I almost believed it until today.” It was true, every single word. You would never lie to Jack, never again. And you’d try your best not to lie to yourself either.

She pulled you back in then, this time the exploration was softer, drawn out more. She nipped at your bottom lip before pulling away again. “I want that too.” The teasing gone from her lips, the games gone from her eyes. All you saw was truth, devotion and certainty.

It was your time to pull her in for a kiss, you smiled, she smiled and the kiss wasn’t near as long as you hoped it would be but that was ok. You had all night to kiss her as many times as you liked and hopefully the next day too. Plus the day after and the day after that. “Stay?” You hummed against her lips. It wasn’t for anything more than to be with her, to have her in your arms and she knew that but that didn’t stop her from the sass returning, the cheekiness she loved to tease you with.

“Well aren’t we forward.” She smiled, her eyes sparking and kissed the corner of your mouth before pulling away.

“You come to my house in that dress, ditching a date and would rather spend the evening with me. And I’m the one being forward?” You laugh at her shocked, playful hurt expression. “Shut up and kiss me.”

She does as you command because you were hers and she was yours and you’d both known it for a long time but now you were living it.

“I feel over dressed.” She laughs, looking down and you flush.

“I feel frumpy.” And you laugh as she rolls her eyes.

“You look cute.” She hums, brushing her nose against yours.

You can’t help but smile. “You look hot.” Your hands running up her sides and back down, pulling her in by the waist.

She hums, kissing you again, sucking at your bottom lips before pulling back. “Got that old NCIS shirt and boxers I can borrow, again?”

“That seems like still too much clothing.” You get a shove to the shoulder for that sass before pulling away and grabbing her hand.

She gladly followed you into your bedroom. Hugging you around the waist and dropping soft kisses to your neck while your searched through your drawers. Maybe you took a little longer, enjoying her against you and her lips against your skin.

“You keep doing that and we won’t get to the movie and icecream.” You turn in her arms, placing a peck to her lips, snaking your arms around her neck, pulling her back in for longer, teasing, moan causing kiss.

“That such a bad thing?”

The movie and clothes long forgotten. The ice cream you’d share later. Movie nights got infinitely better and more frequent after this.

#jack sloane x reader #jack sloane #reader insert #ncis reader insert #fanfic #writing #i needed fluff #It was like a movie

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fullmetaldevil-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Batim: Stitched AU Ch.4

Well writing took a little bit longer then I would have liked, but as they say life tends to get in the way.

Some of the scenes I absolutely adore and do plan on drawing them out when I catch a moment.

Anywho without further adieu on with the show~

Ch 4: The Gears are Turning

Allison woke the next morning to her dismay that Tom had once again left before her. She didn't even remember him coming home from work the previous night either. The last thing she remembered was reading a book on the couch waiting for him to come home, she had long since eaten her dinner and vowed to stay up to wait for him. Now she found herself in their bedroom tucked neatly in bed still wearing the clothes from the previous night, and no sign of her husband at all.

She sighed in annoyance while she got out of bed and grabbed a change of clothes. She washed herself up and came out to the kitchen. Despite her husband's questionable behavior irritating her, there was only one thing that tugged a smile out of her. Benny. The thought of coming to her dressing room and seeing the toons excitement as he would throw himself at her in a tight embrace warmed her heart. Her heart danced in excitement at how the little plushdemon would react to the days food choices.

Allison rolled up her sleeves, threw open the fridge and started grabbing ingredients. She laid out a fests worth of food, eggs, pancakes, sliced fruit, ham and cheese sandwiches, potato chips, and soda pop. She eyed all the fixings for breakfast and lunch, but then she realized that the most important meal that lasts the night is missing; dinner. She drifted through the kitchen wondering what her own dinner was going to be let alone her cartooney friend. At a loss, she opened up the fridge and gazed over it's contents. Her eyes ultimately landed on a bag containing fish her neighbor had brought to her the other day saying that her son had caught too much for their family to eat, and that she was more then welcome to have some. She pulled the bag out and examined the fish inside. It was all cod, and the best thing to make with cod for is Fish n' chips.

Allison pulled out oil and poured it in two pans setting the flame on high while she mixed up the batter for the fish. She was thankful she had already cooked up potatoes the night before and set them in the oil to fry. She patted the fish dry and drenched them in batter and gently laid them in the second pan of oil. The house soon smelled of fresh fish and chips. Allison pulled the fish out one by one and laid them on a cloth to drain the excess oil. While she waited for the fish and chips to cool she started to pack her bag.

With the addition of another meal, Allison opted to carry two baskets. The larger one to carry breakfast and lunch and an additional smaller basket to carry dinner. She gingerly picked up all the breakfast and lunch items and packed them carefully so the sandwiches wouldn't get crushed. When the fish and chips had finally cooled enough she pulled out the smaller basket and pack them away. She was more then grateful that the bag was large enough to house both baskets as well as her other personal effects.

With the day pack packed and ready to go, Allison grabbed her keys and headed out the door. She was thankful that the traffic leading to the studio was light since few wake in the early morning hours, but as she neared the studio her road was joined by more and more trucks. By the time she reached the studio there was a conga line of supply and utility trucks with her dead stuck in the middle. To her fortune the trucks were moving at a good pace and her progress to the studio was only slowed down, but not a dead stop. She pulled up in front of the studio to see it overloaded with equipment being loaded and unloaded. She could only stare in awe at the amount of activity that was taking place at the studio, she had never seen so much activity and GENT staff at once.

Allison stepped out of the car and briefly spotted a massive boxy mechanism with what looked like hose attachments and a large nozzle surrounded by gears being loaded into a truck, while another truck was unloading an even larger yet similar device. The other device had larger hose attachments and some sort of nozzle large enough to fit a person, it was more boxy then the previous one and lacked gears around the nozzle. Everything in her gut told her that the glimpse of equipment she just saw was the ink machine, or at least a part of it. Norman had told her that he heard the machine was tested, but the result was Benny whom was a 'reject'. She suspected that the original machine was being scrapped since it was 'experimental'. This new one must be the final version, and it looked like it wouldn't take long to get it operational. In the corner waving the machine into the building was her husband. She wanted to call out to him, but as soon as she saw him was as soon as he was gone. She gritted her teeth, they didn't have a lot of time before the final ink machine was running and their window of opportunity would close.

Allison tightened her grip on her bag and hastily headed for the entrance of the studio, ducking and dodging equipment and staff. She tuned out any and all obstacles as her primary focus was to reach her dressing room, feed Benny and seek out Norman and the band. With her goal in sight Allison heard voices coming from her room yet again. 'This is getting old' She thought to herself as she grabbed the handle throwing open the door to see her entire room full of the band members and Norman.

The group all looked at her initially wide eyed until realization as to whom they were looking at settled, and they all greeted her in unison “Hi Allison”.

With her name barely left the groups tongues, a black blur shot out from the group and attached itself to her chest nuzzling her shoulder. “Good Morning Allison!” her face was met was Benny's, the energetic toon clinging to her in excitement.

Allison laughed as she tried to pry Benny off, but the little demon was like a koala. “Alright Benny, if you don't let go you won't get any breakfast.”

Benny instantly released her dropping to the floor with his hands behind his back and rocked on his heel patiently waiting. Allison couldn't help but be amazed at how the toon's attitude changes so suddenly when presented with food. He can go from a sweet little devil to borderline invasive on ones personal space, if not so. The band members all laughed at Benny's sudden mood change, Norman just chuckled in the corner and commented about 'don' be denyin' a growin' boy his eats.'

“Where's Earl and Edgar?” Allison had noted that the 2 out of 3 'terrible trio' band members where not present, which would explain why the room was far quieter. The 3 young men Leonard, Edgar, and Earl combined were a force to be reckoned with and more mischievous then the devil himself.

Giovanni sighed “Those boys can never be on time even if you paid them.”

“Umm... Gio. They are being paid.” Leonard commented with a cheeky grin, and earned him a stern glare from Giovanni. Taking the hint, he removed himself from Giovanni's 'grabbing range', opting to stand near Allison's desk.

Allison strode to her desk past the band and set her bag on the desk. Leonard and Benny both at her side instantly.

“Ooooo~ What did you bring?” Leonard's face burrowed in her pack, Allison grabbed the back of his shirt pulling him away from the bag. The man seemed to have little understanding over not invading other peoples personal space or belongings.

“Not for you.” She scowled. Leonard sheepishly grinned in her grip, and something in the back of her mind told Allison to check her bag. She glanced over at her shoulder at the bag to see Benny's head buried within it just how Leonard's was a few moments ago. “Not you too!”. Allison grabbed Benny resulting in a small yelp from the demon whom instantly looked remorseful as he dangled in her grip while she looked at him eye to eye.

Allison held both the offending violinists and toon devil at her mercies. She walked 3 full paces away from the desk dragging Leonard before releasing him, but now held Benny with both hands looking at him strait in the eye. “Don't always do what you see. Some people-” she glared at Leonard before looking back at Benny “ aren't really a good influence. Ok?” Benny nodded profusely in her grasp.

“If that ain't the 'ya done effed up son' look I'll eat mah hat!” Norman laughed from the corner. The rest of the band all burst into a joyous laughter and the antics of their fellow member and their cartooney friend. Leonard slunk over to Aaron and stood next to man, making sure he kept out of Allison's reach and far away from Giovanni's. The bass player did 2 small gestures at Leonard. Two fingers to his eyes then pointed at Leonard followed by him cracking his knuckles. The man's message was clear, and Leonard hid behind Aaron.

“I'm sorry.” Benny bowed his head looking thoroughly chastised.

“It's ok sweetie.” Allison brought him into a small hug “You're still learning.” With apologies said, Allison walked back to the desk and set Benny down so she could start pulling out the baskets for Benny could eat. Benny was baffled as to why there was two baskets in comparison to the one she carried the previous day. “two baskets?” The demon looked up at Allison.

“Yep” She pulled the larger basket out of the bag. “This is the basket from yesterday, and it has our breakfast and lunch.” She set the basket down on the table and opened up the basket to let Benny look inside at the pancakes, fruit, sandwiches and other items for the day. She then pulled out the smaller one “This one has dinner.”

“Dinner?” Benny looked up at her in confusion, he thought there were only 2 meals a day.

Aaron tapped Allison on the shoulder “I got this” he smiled at her. He turned his attention to Benny whom was now looking up at him. “See most people eat what we like to call 3 square meals a day. That is breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Now there may or may not be an occasional snack in between, but for the most part it is the 3 meals. Allison made you all three so you won't be hungry while she is gone.” Aaron lowered his voice to a whisper “Now, what do we say?” The man winked at Benny earning a bright grin from the devil.

“Thank you Allison!” Benny once again attached himself to Allison nearly knocking her over, the woman yelped in surprise. Then glared when she realized she'd been had.

“That's dirty pool.” She grinned at the man. She had to admit he set her up, he knew full well the demon would be over zealous when it came to food, especially since she was the one giving it to him. Allison peeled Benny off herself and set him down at the desk. She rummaged through the basket pulling out his breakfast and set it up for him. The demon happily sat and ate while she fingered for the band to follow her to the other side of the room.

“What's up?” Leonard piped up, and was shut up when Giovanni grabbed the man's shirt pulling him down. The bass player finally getting his hands on the overly energetic violinist.

“Boy don' ya know how t' use yer 'inside voice?'” Norman scowled at the now silent Violinist. The last thing the group wanted was for anyone outside to hear them all talking.

“Thank you Norman.” Giovanni smiled at the projectionist but refused to release the violinist. Leonard hung in the man's grip like a small child in the death grip of their mother.

In a low tone Allison recounted what she saw in the studio lot. Each person's eyes were wide while she described the sheer size and look of the 2 mechanical items that were being shuffled around. The overall conclusion she drew that what she saw was the removal of the prototype ink machine, and it was being replaced by the final version. Worst yet, the second machine looked to be already mostly assembled and it wouldn't take long for it to be operational. That meant that they would have to figure out how to get Benny out during the window of the new machine parts coming in, and the old ones going out. Upon reaching the end of her story each man looked at each other, then to Benny, then back to Allison.

“This is one hell of a risk. Joey's got the studio all buttoned up to a point where no one goes in or out without someone noticing.” Aaron spoke before he looked at Benny again whom noticed the man looking at him and he tilted his head slightly. “but for his sake, I'm willing to do what I can.”

The rest of the band nodded in agreement. They all knew with whatever project Joey was developing that the studio was kept under lock and key. Any and all material was being gathered instead of being thrown away like most other studios. Every time a cell or drawing was completed and processed it was immediately taken and never seen again, rumor floated around that a few animators got in trouble for trying to sneak out cells that they had worked on. The only 'safe' place from the art confiscation was the music department since it was only music and not images. Only the music department staff seemed to be able to move about a bit better then the rest of the staff since they had nothing to do with the animation production. What better way to hide a cartoon then in the last place you'd look?

Leonard suggested to hide Benny inside one of the instrument cases, but that idea got shot down when Aaron told him that they have even started checking the instrument cases after a few animators got busted for trying to sneak cells in a lunch box. Giovanni offered to talk to Shawn to see what is being done to the toy factory staff and any of the products being produced there. He suggested that since Benny was originally a Bendy plush that they might be able to swing something with the moody Irishman and get him out through the toy factory and it's supply shipments. The rest of the group had to agree that idea was their best shot at the moment, but Aaron and Norman both suggested having other plans in place, should the primary one be thwarted for some reason.

“Well is everyone is 'bout that time.” Norman gestured to his watch. The group broke from their planning session and watched as Benny emptied Allison's bag prompting wide eyes from the men since it was that infamous taboo of going in a woman's purse. Allison chuckled at Benny whom grinned up at her brightly and opened up his hammerspace. The entire band was stunned into silence while they watched Benny slide Allison's belongings within him one by one and crawled into her bag closing it up behind himself.

Leonard broke free of Giovanni's arm leash and rushed over to the bag and peering inside “Benny how'd you do that!?” The man's eyes aglow with curiosity and excitement.

“Well the cut I have on my stomach I can treat like a pocket, and since I'm a toon a hammerspace pocket.” Benny chimed from the bag.

“Cool. So can you hide just about anything and pull out anything?” Leonard's face nearly buried in the bag. Allison once again grabbed the back of the mans shirt and pulled him away to give Benny some space.

“Well I can't fit any large items, that basket of Allison's is about my limit. I don't know how to pull out anything that isn't in the hammerspace already” Benny sheepishly replied. Even for a toon he didn't know much about how toon logic worked.

Norman relieved Allison of her grip on Leonard, replacing it with his own and turned the young man to face him. “Boy you must love getting' the back o' yer shirt yanked, and do keep in min' that Benny 'ere is only a few days old. He ain't been 'round long enough t' know 'ow toon logic works cause there ain't no other toon t' teach 'em, and we ain't got the luxury to have 'em watch any cartoon's without someone seein' 'em.”

“Well...” Leonard squirmed in Norman's grasp “Actually we do.” Norman raised a brow at Leonard's comment prompting him to continue “Well see you have all those film reels that Sammy makes you play in the screen behind us while we play. Why don't you have Benny hang with you and have him watch the shorts that are being played behind us.”

'So you basically are planning on having a impromptu 'movie night'” Aaron spoke up, raising his brow.

“Exactly!” Leonard spun in Norman's grip to face Aaron, hi face beaming with excitement. “If he doesn't know much about what is it to be a toon then we show him the toon's that star here!”

“Well Benny has made it clear as day that he doesn't like Alice Angel much.” Allison joined in. It seemed that Benny didn't like the image of Alice using the voice some someone whom he cared for.

Leonard finally broke free of Norman's grip and hopped up in the desk, throwing his arms out as if greeting a crowd. “Then we show him Bendy! He is patterned after him so why have him learn from the best!” The man was over zealous about the idea despite the desk groaning under is weight.

“Boy git down from there, we ain't got time fer this. We'll figure it out later durin' lunch.” Norman tried to reach for Leonard in order for Giovanni to beat him to the punch. The bass player snatched Leonard by the collar of his shirt pulling him off the table. Giovanni looked at the struggling violinist and only said one word “March.” Giovanni turned towards the door while dragging Leonard right behind him, the violinist resigned to his fate.

The rest of the group all laughed at the ensnared violinist and Norman commented about how 'that boy is too energetic in the mornin''. One by one the band filed out of the room to head to the department to start the day. Each of them eagerly looking forward to finishing up the session as soon as possible to not only try and find a weakness in Joey's hold on the studio, but to also interact with their new friend.

------

Sammy was completely overjoyed at the quality of the performance the band was giving. Each instrument resonating off the other as they all played a joyous tune with Allison singing along side them. The recording staff all eagerly listening and swaying along to the beat. The recording session was successful yet again, Sammy quietly thanked whatever god was smiling down on him and his crew. With each recording that was on point meant less pressure from Joey and that was something Sammy could easily be grateful for. The only nuisance he had at present was the blasted pump controls that the GENT staff installed in his office, but if that was the price he had to pay to appease whatever was gracing his department, then he was fine with that.

Throughout the entire session Norman was playing all the respective reels that were required for each song as they came. Benny whom would normally would be with Allison, was encouraged to stay with Norman and watch the films as they were played. The toon enjoyed the scenes with Bendy and Boris, but scowled at any and all scenes with Alice. Since Allison wasn't with him and per Norman's encouragement, Benny once again tried his hand at dancing. He practiced all the while watching his 2D counterpart doing the same thing on the screen, imitating him as best he could. However as soon as he heard Allison's voice coming through the speakers in the room he stopped dancing and sang alongside her. Norman smiled at watching the little devildoll singing to his hearts content, it was obvious that Benny enjoyed singing more then dancing.

The lunch break was kept simple with Norman locking the door to his projection room so He, Allison and Benny could eat in peace. Much to the dismay of Leonard who glued himself to the door wailing like a sick animal begging to be let in, till Earl and Edgar each grabbed an arm and dragged him away from the door. Leonard initially protested at his removal, but upon remembering his promised 'movie night' he eagerly told the twins about the planned evening. The 3 young men all dashed off to gather the 'necessary materials' and to cause mischief and mayhem for another department, providing much relief for the older band members whom all separated to eat and socialize on their own. Once the break was over the band members reconvened at their respective instruments and Allison returned to her booth, leaving Benny to stay with Norman to continue watching the shorts.

Sammy called the session to an end after the second round of recordings and passed out the next round of music to the band, surprising them. Normally Sammy left them to their own devices in retrieving their respective sheet music, but the director was in a good mood and passed out the music personally and thanked them one by one for their efforts. With a skip in his step Sammy bid them a farewell for the evening and left.

When the band was completely certain that Sammy was gone and before Leonard got even one foot towards the projection booth where Benny was, Aaron's hand shot out and grabbed a hold of this shirt restraining him. “Don't even think about it.” The pianist firmly grasped the man. “Walk, not run.”

Aaron walked Leonard to the booth like a dog owner walking an over energetic puppy. Norman gladly opened up the door letting the duo inside. Earl and Edgar rushed up to the booth with snacks they had purchased during their lunch break eagerly looking forward to having a movie night with Benny. Benny thanked them profusely for the snacks they gave him, but kept messing up their names since they were identical twins. Giovanni brought spare chairs from the orchestra pit and set them up in the booth while Norman set up the desired film reels per Allison's request. Allison gave Benny his dinner so he could eat while watching the movie wanting to make sure that the snacks the twins brought wouldn't 'spoil his appetite'. The toon happily ate the dinner first so by the time Norman was done with his setup he could enjoy the snacks throughout the films.

Allison sat in the middle of the group with Benny on her lap so he could see, while the youngest members were sitting on the floor in front of her with Giovanni and Aaron behind her. Norman sat off to the side monitoring the projector and the audio that was being fed through the speaker. The group all either laughed or cheered at the antics of Bendy and his friends, from Bendy's failed attempt to scaring Boris, to Bendy using his face to 'roll' cookie dough, they all sat and enjoyed the little devil darling on the screen as well as their little devildoll amongst them. Whenever a dance solo from Bendy came on the screen Leonard, Edgar and Earl insisted on having Benny dance along side his 2D counterpart. Benny was too shy and simply turned them down saying he wasn't as good a dancer. The twins and Leonard vowed to get Benny to dance with them someday.

------- Tuesday through Friday-------

The group soon found themselves in a routine as the days crept by. They all would show up to work an hour early and join Benny for breakfast. Each member brought food of their own to not only eat for themselves, but to offer some to Benny for him to try. Benny learned that he liked pretty much any and all food brought to him, even the vegetables Giovanni brought. The man saying something about him needing to 'have a proper balanced diet' while shooting Edgar and Earl glares while they tried to hide their candy bars. Benny learned that apparently candy and chocolate is not a breakfast item. Allison herself couldn't help but wonder exactly how much Benny could eat in a single day since each and every band member, Norman, and herself would all bring food for Benny, and each and every time he would eat it all. Leonard joked about the toon having a 'bottomless pit of a stomach' which rewarded him getting smacked by Giovanni since Benny got embarrassed about having the internal hammerspace that spans the length of his stomach.

During the lunch breaks the group would split up and socialize throughout the studio. Giovanni would chat with Shawn and learned that much to the groups dismay, that after Tom had taken a rejected doll from the trash heap of Shawn's factory a few days ago, Joey came in hours later bellowing about the immediate disposal of any and all Bendy dolls that were defected. Not to mention the threat of a pay cut or no pay at all if there were any additional mistakes made during production, each and every doll, specifically Bendy, had to be perfect. The toy factory was no longer allowed to have a trash heap and instead had to keep the dolls within the factory. While the Bendy plushes seemed to be the target of Joeys aggression, the Alice Angel plushes were becoming an increasing problem with lack of popularity, which at times resulted in them jamming up the belts when a doll would accidentally get snagged by the moving parts.

No matter how much Shawn complained about the Alice dolls there was no answer given, but if it was a Bendy doll, it was destroyed on the spot. Giovanni quickly vacated the room when he watched Shawn blow up on Joey, the mans Irish accent grew so thick that while he knew the irate Irishman was speaking English it was difficult to discern one word from another with the pace for which he was shouting the words. Just before Giovanni fled the factory he spotted a small pile of rejected Bendy dolls and saw that one little dolls looked exactly like a doll version of Benny, say for the stitches. He quickly ran over and stole the doll before it could be destroyed and pocketed it to give to Benny later. The bass player abandoned the factory and immediately retreated to relay the new information in regards to the factory's status. It was a bitter reminder that Benny wasn't supposed to exist and the hopes of using the Toy factory as an escape route dashed on the spot.

With the Toy factory out of the question, Earl and Edgar proposed the idea of having Benny dress like a small child and use Allison's make up to cover his face to get him out. That idea never even got near the runway to take off since Aaron bluntly pointed out that no children are allowed within the studio. Even more so with all the construction that GENT had been doing. The words didn't sway the twins much as the boys eagerly brought in their old childhood clothes the following day and tricked Benny into wearing each and every outfit they brought. To their surprise the clothes fit Benny perfectly say for the collar of the shirt since Benny's head floated above his body. They liked the outfits on him so much the twins agreed to let Benny keep their old clothes for when he did get out of the studio. So he could look like a normal human child and travel. Benny happily accepted the clothes and hid them within his hammerspace, but not before giving each twin a koala hug.

Allison proposed the idea of sabotaging the ink machine parts so the deliveries would have to keep coming to try and complete it. If they could delay the completion till Sunday where there is little to no staff within the building, then they might be able to get him out with the crates and supplies that GENT transported throughout the studio. She offered that since she was smaller then Tom the lead GENT worker and her husband, she could sneak a spare pair of his work clothes so she could blend in with the staff and sneak Benny out. Allison didn't want to cause more stress to her husband, but she couldn't bring herself to trust him to help her since he couldn't be honest with her about Benny and the Ink machine.

With Allison's proposal being the last reasonable one on the table, with the younger members getting an occasional smack upside the head for stupid ideas, Aaron had taken to talk to Grant Cohen the financial advisor/accountant for the studio. While the man had no control over the comings and going within the studio he was a swath of information about the studios expenditures. The man would rant and rave about Joey's wild and overly expensive ideas, and Joey would tell the man to 'just make ends meet' even though there wasn't much of an end left. It was painfully obvious that the studio was in financial straits, and with the development of the ink machine it was running the place into the ground financially. Since Aaron was on good terms with Grant he would talk to him and lightly encourage him to make small cuts to security funding on the weekends, in particular Sunday since most of the studio didn't work on Sunday except the GENT team. After 2 days of chatting and coaxing, Grant finally agreed to cut the funding for Sunday thus lowering security and saving the studio some money. Joey would be none the wiser, and what he doesn't know, doesn't hurt him.

With Sunday set as a the best day to try and sneak Benny out since only the GENT team will be present within the studio and Grant's cuts to the security funding, the hardest part was sabotaging the ink machine parts while not getting caught. The more energetic members of the group, Earl, Edgar, and Leonard gladly volunteered for the role. One young man individually was trouble, getting all three together was an unholy union of high energy, youth, and mischief. The terrible trio ran throughout the studio and would 'accidentally' bust a pipe, hide tools or cause a GENT team member to slip up and break something. Tom more often then not, was hot on the trio's tail about their 'unwarranted horseplay'. Wally would try to sneak away from the disaster the trio would leave behind, but Tom would have none of that. Wally was often seen cleaning or fixing something all the while under Toms watchful glare. The lead GENT worker clearly having enough of the energetic band members antics, and the laziness of Wally.

Tom even got frustrated to a point and confronted Sammy about keeping his department members in line. Sammy whom had already had enough of the GENT team and the ins and outs of his department, in particular his office, blew up on Tom. Sammy refused to rein in his staff since they had been giving him repeated success after success in the recordings, and who was he to stop the groups fun? As far as Sammy was concerned, as long as his band performed perfectly on stage then he could care less what they do off stage. Tom was outraged at Sammy's blatant refusal to assist him, he didn't have the time nor the patience to be continuously working on the ink machine trying to finish it, especially when he had a threat lingering over his head. Both men shouted at each other at the tops of their lungs and had to be separated by staff for fear of a fight breaking out.

Norman bore witness to the entire confrontation between Tom and Sammy. He knew Tom had a underlying temper but had never seen it boil up in such a manner. There was a sense of desperation and frustration in the mans voice as his drowned out Sammy's. Norman couldn't say anything but watch the entire exchange and quickly disappeared while staff was separating the two bellowing men. He retreated and told Allison about what happened between her husband and Sammy and asked if she wanted to have the trio lighten up on the amount of sabotage they were conducting. His only response was a 'no'. They didn't have the luxury of waiting any more since the improved ink machine was installed and final preparations were being made, their window of opportunity wouldn't be open for much longer.

------- Saturday At the dressing room--------

Allison herself found a strange sense of distance growing between herself and her husband. She hardly saw him, even at home. Tom would leave for work before she woke up and would come home well after she went to bed. The only time she would see him is during the lunch break period, and that would be because she actively sought him out. During one of the couples quiet breaks together they had decided to spend it in Allison's dressing room. Allison had stepped out of the room to use the bathroom leaving Tom alone in her room.

Tom feeling completely famished decided to look for the lunch basket within Allison's bag that she was borrowing from him. He figured he could spare his wife the trouble of getting him his food when he could do it himself. He already felt bad that he hadn't been able to enjoy breakfast and dinner with her at home and that she would go through the trouble to cook for him regardless. He wondered what he did to be blessed with a woman who stood by him, even when at times he felt he didn't deserve her kindness.

Benny could hear the conversation between Allison and someone named 'Tom' that he knew was someone special to her whom she called her 'husband'. What ever that meant. He knew she had stepped out for a moment to 'use the restroom'. The room for the most part was quiet till the bag suddenly started to shift and he knew full well Allison was not in the room, and panic set in fast. 'Oh No! No no no no!' He thought to himself as he listened to the clasps that kept the bag closed being undone. A pair of rough hands gently pried the flap of the bag open and a worn face looked down at him.

“what the?” The gruff looking man uttered as he looked at Benny. The man had tired brown eyes, dark brown hair that was matched by short facial hair and a mustache. Something about this mans face looked familiar to Benny, but at the moment it was the last thought on his mind. The toon remained still hope that the man would think he is a toy.

Tom reached into the bag wrapping his hands around Benny's sides lifting him out of the bag gently. Tom was utterly baffled. He had never seen a Bendy plush so large and that actually looked like he came out of the screen vs. a different iteration of the classic 'teddy bear design' except with a horned head. What really struck him as odd was the fact that this Bendy plush had yellow coloring, off model eyes and large black stitches that ran across the face and stomach. Tom turned the plushtoon over in his arms examining him, running his fingers over the stitches on his stomach and feeling the fabric that made up his body. Tom felt a hint of sadness hit him, this doll that was in Allison's bag reminded him of the little off model Bendy toon that Joey attacked and most likely killed. There was no way the little toon could have survived the blow and was most likely reduced to a puddle of ink somewhere in the studio. The resemblance between the doll and the deceased toon were unsettling and it felt like he was looking at a ghost from his past. Tom turned him over again and started to run his rough but warm fingers over the stitching on Benny's face, sorrow all over the mans features.

The longer he looked at the doll in his arms the more grim reality hit him, he helped bring a little creature to life and watched it get fatally injured and most likely died. He was now tasked with refining the accursed machine with the threat of his wife's life on the line so that another creature to be brought to life and possibly meet the same fate as it's predecessor. Tom's body shook with a growing anger and sadness that was warring within himself. He held a new born life for it to die, the one he cares about will die if he doesn't finish his job, and the next one will most likely die the same way as the first. Everything around Joey dies and that he has no choice to to provide the life that Joey has no qualms about removing. The arrogant director couldn't understand that life needs experience and that it won't have everything at the start, you have to teach it. Each and every time Joey will use the machine to bring something to life, that life will be cut short cause it will never be 'perfect' simply because LIFE ISN'T PERFECT. Tom realized that no matter how much convincing or defending he would do, each and every toon created by the machine will be killed, and each and every time Joey will summon him to work on the machine. No matter how many times he tries he will fail, he is stuck in a loop of misery.

Tom brought Benny close to himself and hugged him, seeking some sort of comfort from what he viewed as a stuffed animal. The man's mental walls broke down and he quietly sobbed resting his head between Benny's horns. Benny was stunned by the turn of events, this man, something about him felt familiar. Benny searched his memories and had little luck till he decided to search his earliest, the ones that gave him such pain. He remembered a rough looking man cooing at him and petting him on his head. Then it all clicked together. This man was the one whom introduced him into this world, showing him such warmth and kindness. His protector from the crazed ax wielding man whom attacked him shortly thereafter. The overwhelming desire to comfort Tom overtook Benny, he wanted to comfort the man whom took care of him at the start of it all. Taking a huge risk, Benny slowly lifted an arm making sure the man holding him couldn't see him and gently rest it on his back rubbing it slowly. This prompted more quiet sobs from Tom, and Benny just continued to rub his back slowly.

Allison entered the room expecting to see Tom sitting and waiting for lunch, she didn't expect to see her husband crying while hugging Benny, let alone Benny rubbing his back. She was utterly baffled by what she was seeing. Tom was such a strong caring man whom would shoulder the world for someone, but to see his strong character break down, it broke her heart. She didn't know what all he was going through, but whatever it was had taken a toll on him. She quietly crept across the room and rested her hand on Tom's back relieving Benny of him comforting the distressed man. Tom seemed unaware of her presence even when she was comforting him “Honey? You ok?” She quietly asked him while rubbing his back.

Tom's sobs quieted down and Allison didn't say anything more while she waited for him to calm down. It took some time for Tom to compose himself and slowly let go of Benny, setting him on his lap. “Sorry you had to see that.” Tom straitened himself back up and looked at Allison with tired eyes.

“It's ok, you're probably just tired and stressed out” Allison warmly smiled at him.

Tom nodded and leaned back in the chair stretching as best he could. “So...what's for lunch?”

Allison looked immediately at Benny, with the toon in Tom's grasp he can't pull out the basket without Tom noticing. A little idea danced in her head and she wondering if Tom would fall for it, but it was worth a shot. “First you'll have to close your eyes” She winked at him.

Tom raised a brow but didn't question Allison's actions and complied to her command. Allison waved her hand in front of Tom's face making sure he couldn't see before nodding at Benny. The plushdemon carefully moved his arms to open up his hammerspace and pulled out the basket handle. Allison assisted him and removed it all the way, all the while Tom had his eyes closed and unaware as to what was going on in front of him. Both Allison and Benny were careful in their movements in the hopes that Tom didn't catch on, but once they were sure that everything was secure, Allison finally spoke up “Good, now open.”

Tom opened his eyes to see Allison holding out the lunch basket packed to the brim with food. A gentle smile graced Tom's tired face and he set Benny on the desk so he could start eating. The lunch between the couple was spent in silence. Allison simply sat next to Tom with her head resting in his shoulder leaning against him, her mere presence provided all the comfort and security Tom needed. He relaxed himself into the chair and quietly ate the food that had been provided, all the while occasionally glancing over at the doll that was laid against his wife's desk. Tom stared at the devildoll on the desk, it was so detailed and carefully made, not a single visible seam, nor blemish in the fabric, the entire body was almost like it was one solid piece of material. Now a little question burned in the back of his mind. Where did she get it?

“H-Honey?” Tom's soft words breaking the momentary bliss of the room. Allison hummed against him in acknowledgment. “Where did you get the Bendy plush? I mean he is very well made, he is too nicely done to have been made by our grouchy toy maker.” Tom chuckled at the mere thought of Shawn actually taking care in the toys he made. While the man was a professional, he did make the occasional mistake that resulted in a tirade from Joey. Though in recent weeks the man would deliberately make a mistake just to irk Joey.

Allison looked over at Benny whom was laying perfectly still, she could tell the toon was looking at her with a hint of nervousness in his eyes. “A coworker made him for me.” She wouldn't dare tell her husband that Benny came from the ink machine. “He was a gift for helping them out with a small project awhile back.”

Tom smiled at hearing her words. Allison had a lot of compassion when it came to people, and it was comforting to know that people showed their appreciation for her efforts, that she wasn't being taken advantage of. His smile disappeared when he saw Allison looking downwards towards the floor and had a small frown on her face “Honey you ok?” He gently nudged her with his shoulder.

“It's just with Joey acting strange lately I can't take him home, I have to hide him here.” Allison sighed leaning into her husband “He is such a lovely gift and I can't enjoy him.”

Tom looked over at Benny then back at Allison. “Tell you what, my project is nearly complete. I have one more day to finish up and afterwards I can bring him home for you. Joey won't be bothering me after his project is done, and I'm sure I can bring your friend home then.” he hugged her gently. He didn't want such a lovely gift ruined by Joey. He only had to endure one more day of hell and he would be free.

Allison looked up at her husband and gave him the biggest smile she could muster, she lifted her hand up to Toms cheek leading him down to her and she kissed him. As she broke away she quietly whispered “Thank you Tom.”

Tom's words were music to Allison's ears. He would be able to easily get Benny out of the studio after Joey has been pacified. Her mind instantly thought of how she would introduce her husband to Benny properly and all the things they would do once they were together. Images of the three of them all together as a family floated through her mind.

Benny sat there watching the scene unfold before him and could see the pure joy on Allison's face when the Tom told her he would take Benny 'home'. From the conversation Benny had concluded that Tom and Allison lived together, and that he will be taken with them in a day's time. The toon could barely contain his own excitement at not only getting out of the studio and away from the man named 'Joey', but to also go to a place called 'home' with Allison. His trademark grin got a little wider at all the thoughts that danced through his head about how a world beyond the studio must be like. He could hardly wait.

Tom glanced at his watch and realized that the lunch period was nearly over and he had to go back to work. Allison cleaned up the remains of their lunches and waved Tom off as he left to resume his task. She turned back to Benny flashing him the brightest grin she could possibly muster and was met with an equal grin from the toon. Both were equally excited to finally see a light at the end of the tunnel and that their nightmare was nearly over. Benny eagerly inhaled his lunch before stuffing the basket back within himself and returned to Allison's bag, his grin bigger then ever as he peered out the bag at Allison. With a spring in her step, she nearly skipped and danced down the hall towards the music department. She couldn't wait to tell the band the good news.

Tom returned to the redesigned ink machine looking over the accursed mechanism. The contraption was far bigger and seemed intimidating compared to it's previous counterpart. Joey had taken to drawing strange patterns around and in the machine, much to Tom's dismay. He couldn't understand what the strange patterns were and Joey's only excuse was that they were for 'decorative purposes' and weren't anything to be wary of. The machine itself was ready, but needed to have a secure supply of ink. The constant pipe bursts and Wally's laziness was the only thing holding the machine back. All of which were quick and easy fixes, but the sheer amount of bursts felt deliberate, but lacked proof or witnesses to whom was the culprit behind his delays. He could only hope that he would be able to secure enough pipe to go through with the activation of the machine tomorrow.

------ After recording------

With the recording once again successful and wrapped up for the day and Sammy nearly hopping down the halls with a beat to his step, the band all came out to play. Allison eagerly told them what Tom wanted to do once the machine was finished, and ironically it was scheduled to be completed on Sunday which is tomorrow. Norman immediately asked if Tom was aware of Benny and Allison told him no. Tom didn't seem to know that Benny was a living plushdemon and seemed to only think he was a gift after Allison told him that Benny was a present from a grateful coworker. The unholy trio Edgar, Leonard and Earl asked if they should cease their sabotaging the ink machine and they got a simple 'yes'. They needed the machine to be completed now since Tom was a oblivious participant in their getting Benny out of the studio. They were to cease their destruction immediately and if possible assist without being seen. If there was an pipe rupture or spill, repair it to the best of ones ability and clean up the mess. The sooner the machine is up and running, the sooner Benny is out of the studio. The band all cheered in excitement at the realization that Benny would finally be free of the hell hole studio and at a place where he belongs. Each member took up their instruments and played a lively tune while for grins Norman played some of the dancing scenes on the walls behind the band to help set the mood.

The band watched in amusement as Benny actually tried his hand at dancing properly. For grins, and use of toon logic, Benny gave off the appearance of him hoping in and out of the screen during the dance solo all the while mirroring his 2D counterpart, and at one point even looked like he was dancing with him as partners. Benny was simply elated at the reality of finally getting a place to call home rather then a crate at the bottom of a shelf. Singing was out of the question when he felt like dancing to show how truly overjoyed he was. The band, Allison and Norman all encouraging him as he dipped in and out of one musical number to another. The sense of relief, happiness, and belonging danced through the air strong and true.

Unbeknownst to the partying group there was a set of eyes staring dumbfounded at the scene before him. Sammy didn't seem to be at all aware of the band playing as his focus was dead locked on Benny, the toon had his back to the director all the while doing a simple little tap dance. Sammy had jokingly commented about how he felt that Bendy was blessing his department with the overwhelming success as of late, but he never thought that Bendy was physically in his department, let alone a real entity. The man stood there in complete shock until Benny finished up his dancing number and took a bow before walking away. The stunned musical director spun on his heel and burned rubber up the stairs and down the halls to Joey's office throwing the door open.

The sudden intrusion into Joey's office set the older man off, he frantically grasped at papers covered in strange circles and writings hiding them from view, all the the while shouting at his sudden intruder. “Mr. Lawrence! What on earth is your major malfunction now!?”

Sammy was winded from his mad dash to the office and struggled to catch his breath “S-Sir! It's-It's Bendy!” The musician rested his hands on his knees still struggling to subdue his gasping for air. Joey lifted a brow and rose from his chair, with cane in hand he cautiously approached the over excited musical director. “What about Bendy?”

“H-He's real! And he's in my department!!” Sammy looked up at him with a excited madness to his eyes “He was tap dancing in my department, hopping on and off the screen!”

Joey frowned at the description Sammy had given him. There was no way Bendy could hop off the screen, at least not yet. That meant that the abomination that he failed to eliminate thanks to the stubborn refusal from Tom was still alive and in the studio, and seemingly in good health. Not only that, but it was playing within a department that only made music and had nothing to do with actually creating Bendy nor ink for it's needs. The music department was the last place he'd look for a freak of ink. Joey's frown soon slipped into a sly grin, which he quickly moved to his 'golden smile' and decided to exercise his 'silver tongue'.

“Why Sammy, you should feel blessed!” Joey helped Sammy to his feet properly and brushed off his shoulders. “Bendy has appeared to shower you with his blessings of success, your department has been nothing short of perfection these past few days, and you have Bendy the thank for that. Your dedication to your role of writing his music has pleased him, you should feel happy that our lord Bendy has ascended the lighter side of hell and now resides in your department.”

Joey's words sunk deep within Sammy, Bendy was a god who ascended from the depths of hell to shine light onto his life. His dedication and wishes had reached his lord and now he was getting everything he ever wanted. He was bathed in a wealth of success, respect and recognition, the very things he never had when starting out in his career. He was used to being the 'bottom dweller' and his only talent was writing music and playing instruments, but now that talent was being rewarded in the most spectacular way. Sammy's eyes were alight with a passionate flame of determination. “What should I do for him sir?”

With his trademark smile back on his face Joey looked Sammy dead in the eyes. “If you find him, bring our lord to me. He deserves a proper welcoming to our world.”

“Yes, nothing but the best for him.” Sammy whispered in agreement and turned on his heel to return to his department to find his lord.

Sammy finally out of earshot Joey burst into a boisterous laughter, he couldn't believe how things were falling into place. He now had Sammy out looking for the abomination for him and will present the failure to him so he can finish it off, and by the morrow he will have his ink machine and the real Bendy the dancing demon. Sure he had a few set backs at the start of the week with Tom's little stunt and the escapee freak of ink, but now none of that mattered. The older man returned to his desk and rested in his chair, his Grey eyes joyfully looking over the papers he had been studying earlier prior to Sammy's intrusion.

Joey by no sense of the word was a religious man, but when he found a strange book called 'The Illusion of Living' and how things can be brought to life with the use of mechanics and magic, everything had changed. A bit of magic here, a few sacrifices there and you have the conditions to make life, and what better way then to use them to bring cartoons to life? He was already well aware of his studio's short comings with the increasing difficulty in animations being completed on time, rising costs and labor, and the grim truth that with other studios introducing color film which his studio lacked, he was falling behind. If he could bring the characters to life then no matter what the other competitors did with their color films, it wouldn't top a real life toon.

He had all the necessary conditions and pieces, no all he has to do is wait til tomorrow when the machine will be complete and he will have his rise to glory.

--------Meanwhile Back at the Music Department------

Sammy made a mad dash back to his department to find that everything was closed up for the day. All the instruments were put away, the projectors were cleaned up and off, and not a trace of Bendy to be found. The director frowned at the fact that he missed his chance, but surely there will be more. As long as his band performed splendidly meeting the demon's needs, then he will reappear. He tried playing the recordings of the band and had the projector running to see if he could summon the demon, but no matter how many records he played, nor reels in the projector, not a single hint of Bendy was to be seen. The man frowned and started to clean up the records when he slipped on a puddle of ink, sending him crashing onto the floor spilling all the accumulated records. He cursed his rotten luck sitting up and spotted something that had his undivided attention. A lone Bendy cutout. It was a cardboard cutout that Joey had made up by the animation department and it sat in the far corner of the orchestra pit hidden by a stack of chairs.

Sammy got up and wandered to the cutout pulling it out of its hiding spot examining it, the thing looked exactly like the devil darling. Then a little idea crossed his mind, what if Bendy only came out when the cutout was present, but now that it was hidden he got upset. Sammy set the cutout in a corner at a vacant chair and went back to collect the fallen records. There weren't many cutout made and they were scattered throughout the studio. If he could gather all the current cutouts and use them to decorate the department and have the band playing with the shorts playing behind them, then surely that must appease Bendy. However that will have to wait for tomorrow since there was no way he could gather up all the needed cutouts after hours since much of the studio was put to bed for the day.

Tomorrow is another day.

#batim stitched au #benny the stitch demon #benny the stitch devil #benny the stitched devil #benny the stitched demon #allison pendle #allison connor #tom connor #norman polk #wally franks #joey drew #bendy the dancing demon #grant cohen #shawn flynn #sammy lawrence #batim ocs #bendy and the ink machine au

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goy-bullshit-translator · 7 years ago

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I'm not the anon who asked about Purim but what is the Purim story?

ALRIGHTY *cracks knuckles* I got off mobile and on desktop for this so you know it’s serious.

Purim Story: They tried to kill us, we survived, let’s eat.

The year is 367 BCE. The town is Shushan, Persia. The scene zooms in on a large castle in the middle, big, decadent, just the right amount of finery and prestige for a king who’s a complete asshole. The king Ahashverous is sitting on his throne, lording over his subjects in the way only a completely pompous and detached king can. His wife Vashti is off in her rooms, chilling, doing something, enjoying her queenly life. King Ahashverous decides he’s in the mood to party, so calls up all his dudebro friends, they’re chilling, dancing, drinking, having a great time, when King A gets this great idea to call his wife Vashti down for a little entertainment, a little dancing for his guests. Wearing only her crown. So, for reasons obvious to all but the most entitled frat boy (Ahashverous), Vashti declines and refuses to do as he asked. He gets super pissed by this and demands her killed, which is promptly followed out. Vashti is out of the picture and villianized in children’s purim skits for eons to come.

So the King is sitting there, having just disposed of his unruly wife, when he realizes he needs a new queen. Well shit, how’s he gonna get one on such short notice? He calls up his right hand man, his advisor Haman (BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO), and tells him to go fetch all the women of Shushan, as he will hold a beauty contest and whoever wins will have the blessing of being the King’s wife.

Enter Esther, a young Jewish girl, orphaned at a young age and who has grown up with her uncle Mordechai (THE JEWISH GUY), who works in the Palace. She’s young, sweet, innocent and pretty, so of course she’s a prime subject for the King’s beauty contest. She shows up, struts her stuff, and lo and behold, the king has a new wife! They get married, and she’s trapped in a world of pompous royalty and anti-semitism. Oh yeah, no one knows she’s Jewish.

Meanwhile, Mordechai, on his daily trip to the palace, overhears two guards, gossiping about how they’re gonna murder the king, just gonna kill him brutally and painfully and all that good stuff. So, let’s be real, the king probably deserves this, but that’s besides the point. Mordechai is shocked and appalled, and rushes immediately to notify the court of this impending murder plot, the guards are taken and executed, and life goes back to normal.

Mordechai continues his walk around his Shushan town, when he happens to cross paths with Haman (BOOOOOOOOOO). Haman, being the asshole he is, insists that everyone who he walks past must bow to him. Mordechai, being the Jew that he is, refuses. Now Haman fucking hates this. If Mordechai won’t bow to him, then all the Jews won’t bow to him, so he must not be the most important person in the world and that’s simply not permissible. So he sidles up to his personal pal the king and is like “hey. hey bud. hey my dude my pal there are people who don’t respect my authority or yours. They won’t bow to me what kind of filthy rats.” and the king’s all “holy shit there are people who wont bow to you we gotta do something!!” and H*man smiles and goes “yeah dude i got the perfect solution. Let’s just kill them. Kill them all. There’s no way that could go wrong.” And the king, (who’s probably still drunk), is like “Yeah dude sounds cool!!”, and willingly signs off on the order to murder all the Jews. Now, H*man is a little bastard who doesn’t give a shit about what he’s doing, so in order to decide when he’ll commit this mass murder, he rolls some dice, called Purim, to choose a date. (Hopefully you see the obvious connection to the holiday). The dice land on the 14th of Adar, the decree is made and sent out into the city, and the Jews of Shushan collectively go “oh fuck we’re gonna die.”

Back to our good pal Mordechai, who’s walking around Shushan again (he seems to go on a lot of walks), when he notices one of the posters declaring the murders of the Jews, and is like SHIT SHIT SHIT WAIT my niece lives in the palace. She’s the gotdamn queen. She’s gotta have some sort of power, right? So he runs over to visit Esther, and is like Esther sweetie babe please go talk to your husband please make him reconsider mass murder maybe? Thanks? and Esther’s all “what the fuck i haven’t seen my husband since the wedding if i enter his quarters without an invitation i’ll be fucking murdered” and mordechai, who’s had enough of his niece’s wishy washy shit, goes “YOU”RE GONNA GET FUCKING MURDERED ANYWAY IN CASE YOU FORGOT YOU ARE ALSO A JEW” and Esther’s like “okay yeah i’ll see what I can do.”

Zoom in on the king, who’s trying to go to sleep in his big kingly beds, and just can’t fall asleep. So instead of suffering through insomnia like the rest of us plebians, he calls for someone to read to him from the royal records, cause they’re so fucking boring they’ll have to put him to sleep. So one of his servants is doing so, and he stumbles upon the time when Mordechai saved his life. He realizes that Mordechai never actually got an award for all that snazzy shit, so calls in his boy Ham*n. “Hey. Haman. My dude my bro my man. If there was someone I really liked, who did a huge huge favor for me, like, yaknow, really helped me out, how should I reward him?” Haman, the stuck up brat that he is, of course things Ahashverous is talking about him, and so says “well…. i would dress him in the king’s finest robes and put him on the king’s finest horse and have someone parade him around the streets of Shushan yelling “THIS IS A MAN THE KING WISHES TO HONOR LOOK HOW GLORIOUS HE IS” and Ahashverous is all “dude you’re brilliant. Okay tomorrow afternoon, get that Mordechai dude and have this done to him. You’ll be leading the horse and yelling.” Haman realizes he fucked up. Haman reaaaaaaaaaaaaally hates Mordechai now. He hates him so much in fact, that he builds a set of gallows specifically for murdering Mordechai alone.

Esther, meanwhile, is trying to build up courage to go see the King and explain the whole “I’m Jewish please don’t kill my people” issue. First, she fasts for three days to be ready, and asks all the Jews of Shushan to fast with her. Once those three days are up, she figures she can’t just waltz right in to his quarters and say “don’t kill me”, so instead she dresses up all fancy, and waltzes into his quarters with some fancy (skimpy) clothing on and an invitation to a party. The king is thrilled to be invited to a party, and manages to overcome his instinct for murdering his wives to accept the invitation. At the party, they’re chilling, they’re laughing, they’re having an all around wonderful time. when Esther goes to make an announcement. “Hem hem hem” she coughs. “I brought you here today for something very important.” Everyone is paying attention. “I’m having another party tomorrow night and you’re all invited!!!! And so is that Haman dude. Make sure he’s there. Really.” Well of course our frat boy king is delighted and agrees that he and Haman will absolutely 100% be there.

Cut to the next night, where they’re at the party and Esther goes to make an announcement. “hem hem hem.” she says. The king gets ready for another party announcement. He loves parties “Someone” says Esther. “Someone, in this very room, is trying…. TO KILL ME!” Shock! Terror! Awe! Emotions! The party guests are very confused, until Esther gives the full explanation. “I’m a Jew… Haman’s a dick… etc.” So of course the King is so distraught, because he can’t have his lovely wife that he loves so very much (that he thinks looks hella hot) be murdered! But he’s also in a bind. Cause here’s the thing about kingly orders, like the one about killing the Jews. They can’t be undone or retracted. Looks like the Jews are still screwed. That is, until Mordechai gets this great idea. More murder. “Look.” he says. “People have been given legal permission to kill us. I propose you simply do the same. Write out a little kingly decree, saying that the Jews have the legal right to kill anyone who attacks them, and can fight for their lives. Then, it’ll just be a battle of the strongest and of course the Jews will escape just fine. We’re good at surviving.” The king, who’s really just a pawn at this point, is all “well that’s a MARVELOUS idea! Let me write up this order immediately, I’ll get right to it!” This second kingly order gets written, the decree goes out, and the 14th of Adar rolls around.

There’s mass murder. Everyone is fighting or killing or dying. Mostly goyim are dying though. The Jews successfully manage to protect themselves, keeping their culture alive, turning what was supposed to be a day of mourning into a day of wildly happy celebration, the Purim festival we know now. They also found and seized Haman, hanging him upon the gallows he built for Mordechai. And to this day, we eat hamentaschen to mock this fool’s hat/ears/pockets. Whatever we’re mocking, Haman was a dick who looked ridiculous. And we’re still here bitch, so ha. You lost.

#long post #seriously i took a nap in between starting and finishing this post #a 1.5 hour long nap #jewish #jumblr #purim #the purim story #not a translation #anon #ask

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grimelords · 7 years ago

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Hello I forgot to post my July playlist when July ended so here it is now! It turns out it’s incredible easy to write 1500 words when you’re writing about songs you love so sorry about that. Four hours of top quality bops that range from russian choral music to classic !!!, please enjoy.

Signs Of Life - Arcade Fire: Everyone hated the new album but in my opinion it's not only not bad, but Signs Of Life is one of their best songs yet. Also the video is incredibly good. The Man - The Killers: The Killers are back and they're making good songs again! This song sounds like the bicep emoji! Hung From The Moon - Earth: Accidentally listened to this album a lot in July and kicked off a drone thing that has lasted through august. Elevation - Television: Everyone always talks about the guitars in Television but nobody ever talks about how good the rhythm of the chorus in this song is. Taman Shud - The Drones: Good song to yell along to and the only song I know that uses the word 'inchoate' Mountain Of Air - Ellen Arkbro: I really can't recommend this album enough if you like the sound of having a dream made of brass. South Point - Grizzly Bear: Grizzly Bear are a prog band. Apache (Jump On It) - The Sugarhill Gang: Not only groovy, but racist too. There's a good part where he explains that maize is just corn. What’s A Girl To Do? - Bat For Lashes This is a good song and a great music video Glass - Bat For Lashes: Bat For Lashes does better worldbuilding in this song than most novels. Offering - Cults: I may be the only person in the world who is absolutely gagging for a new Cults album but thank god they're back. Return Of The Mack - Mark Morrison: THE song about being back on your bullshit. Baller Of The Year - ESG: If you play this in your car it automatically starts ghetto swerving AND you start crying. You Know I Wantcha! - Devin The Dude: Incredibly gross song about being very horny by yourself in a strip club for you to listen to. Crawling After You - Bass Drum Of Death: After all this time, this song may be the only thing I love about GTAV. Bad Liar - Selena Gomez Maybe the only Selena Gomez song I've ever heard and it's so SO good. Seven Eight Nine (Part 2) - Kenny Wheeler: I developed a bad habit of listening to ABC Jazz when I couldn't sleep but thankfully I found some real gems doing it. Fine Di Cobb - Originale - Stelvio Cipriani: Yet another fantastic find from spotify's Best Of Eurocrime playlist. A Fifth Of Beethoven - Walter Murphy: It is so funny that Beethoven wrote one of the biggest disco hits of all time. Between this and Wendy Carlos' Switched On Bach there's a very funny history of classical music causing a big stir. The Lighthouse - Amon Tobin: It's crazy that Amon Tobin's best album was the soundtrack to Splinter Cell: Chaos Theory but he really elevated video game music as a whole with this one. If The Brakeman Turns My Way - Bright Eyes: The concept of an opium den with a periscope is very nice to think about. Hold Music - Architecture In Helsinki: Places Like This is an all time classic that nobody respects because people think Heart It Races is a novelty song instead of a masterpiece. I Found A New Chapeau - Jo Jones: "The world's greatest jazz drummer Jo Jones!" goes absolutely off for nine minutes against an organ that sounds like farts. It's Real - Real Estate: [beckons you closer and whispers] it's real real estate Obvs - Jamie xx: In Colour was truly the album of the year cause baby it is simply breathtaking start to finish! Blue Train Lines (feat. King Krule) - Mount Kimbie: I hope King Krule joins Mount Kimbie as a full member because they have such a good thing going. This song took a while to grow on me but now I really cannot wait for their new album. The video for this one is also extremely good even though it required me to read an artist's statement from the directors and a whole wiki article to understand it. Six Days Remix - DJ Shadow: Last month I attended a 17 hour Fast And Furious marathon that has permanently affected my brain chemistry (which I've been meaning to write a long post about) and at the end I was certain of only one thing: the Six Days Remix was the best thing about Tokyo Drift by a country mile and it's easily a top 5 DJ shadow song. Nandi - Jlin: I can't say enough good stuff about this album and this song is an absolute standout. 3 Freaks - DJ Shadow: Everyone's always saying 'oh it was such a mistake for DJ Shadow to abandon his sound after making two critically acclaimed albums pushing sample based music in a new direction and make a hyphy album that everyone hated' but consider this: Turf Talk And Keak Da Sneak Fight For Peace - Frank Klepacki: I developed a brain parasite this month that forced me to become completely obsessed with the 15 year old RTS game Command And Conquer Generals, and then I found out that the soundtrack was on spotify. Sultans Of Swing - Dire Straits: Everyone's always talking about Mark Knopfler being good at guitar or whatever but for my money the drummer is the real mvp of this song, and the part where he just goes ham for like half a bar at about 4:20 really cracks me up. Strangest Thing - The War On Drugs: Literally every song The War On Drugs have released from their upcoming album so far I have absolutely loved and I cannot wait to hear the whole thing. Kyanite - Jlin: Jlin baby!! This is like traditional music from an alien civilisation or something, it's incredible. Sophisticated Lady - Art Tatum: Speaking of music from another planet I firmly belived Art Tatum was touched on the brain by God. Romance Without Finance - Tiny Grimes: Please enjoy this 70 year old song about not dating broke girls, the backing vocals really make me laugh. All Is Written - Matana Roberts: Matana Roberts is a very specific feeling but if you're in the mood for confrontational experimental jazz please get into this whole album. Start with Coin Coin Chapter One if you want the full experience. Time For Us - Nicolas Jaar: I love when Nicolas Jaar does funny voice. In the world I dream of this song is a dancefloor classic. Blanket Me - Hundred Waters: I love Hundred Waters and this song make me so emotional to the point where i'm almost afraid to hear their new album. When The World Was At War We Kept Dancing - Lana Del Rey: Lust For Life is incredible and hearing Lana sing 's it the end of an era? is it the end of America?' is like.. directly targeting my brain stem. I cannot describe how much I instantly fell in love with this song when I first heard it. Jane - Jefferson Starship: The new season of Wet Hot American Summer reminded me how good this song is. I spent like half an hour reading the wiki article about Jefferson Airplain, Jefferson Starship and Starship and how they came to be to my girlfriend this month and let me tell you: she hated it. Take You On A Cruise - Interpol: The instrumentation in this song sounds so much like the xx's first album it is insane. Vegas - Polica: I feel like I have a new favourite Polica song every week they are honestly the best band in the world. Woody's Roundup - Riders In The Sky: Hello, I woke up with the Woody's Roundup theme song from Toy Story 2 in my head one day this month and so I put it on my playlist. It's a good song, highly recommended thanks. All Night Vigil, Op. 37: No. 3, Blessed Is The Man "Beatitude" - Sergei Rachmaninoff: Accidentally got very heavily into this russian orthodox christian choral music this month. Magic Arrow - Timber Timbre: My friend texted me out of the blue saying how good this song is and he's absolutely right. Timber Timbre's self titled is an album i've continually returned to for years now, it's truly something special. Don't Say I Know - Tera Melos: Tera Melos are finally, finally back! And they're making incredible impossible music that's catchy as hell again! Keep The Car Running - Arcade Fire: Had a very intense moment with this song this month, listening to it on repeat and convincing myself that it was coming for me too. Hocus Pocus - Focus: Baby Driver is a good movie! And this song and scene was a real highlight. How Long - Out Hud: Thankyou to @popculturediedin2009 for introducing me to this great song from a !!! side project I never knew about and thankyou to the Lindsay Lohan film I Know Who Killed Me for introducing it to them in the first place. I Can't Turn You Loose - Sly & The Family Stone: The guy making noises into the microphone right at the start is really, really funny and I can't believe it's taken me this long of watching The Blues Brothers pretty regularly to look up the original version of this song. Oh Yeah - The Subways: Rediscovered this album this month after singing Rock And Roll Queen about 20 times in a row with my friends thanks to a Singstar glitch and remembered how I had an absolute breakdown about this song when I was about 19, listening to it on repeat for hours and fretting that I was going to die because I would no longer be a teenager soon. Me And Guiliani Down By The School Yard - A True Story - !!!: Bring back mid-2000s dance-punk we need it now more than ever!

#playlists

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lopithecusfanfiction · 7 years ago

Text

Bitch, Me Too!

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 4490 Alternate: AO3, fanfiction.net Summary: Dick is having trouble coming out to Bruce as gay. Little does he know, something that is happening right in front of his eyes between Bruce and Clark, would make it a lot easier to do so if he wasn't completely missing the cues. Warnings:

Mild Language

Humor

Obliviousness

Dick being bad at interpreting relationships

Author's Note: This is for TheResurrectionist, aka @frownyalfred. I hope you like it!! ❤❤

Based on forwnyalfred's post here: [X]

This is my first time writing in Dick's point of view, so hopefully it's okay. :) Enjoy!!

Dick is many things; funny, smart, irresistibly handsome. But one thing he is not, is someone who has an easy time talking to Bruce ‘Grumpy’ Wayne. He honestly doesn’t know how Clark can do it, let alone put up with the man for longer than an hour at a time. Their friendship, though Dick is glad for it, to this day confuses him. Still, Bruce is Dick’s adoptive father and so it’s only right for Dick to somehow tell Bruce the things that are going on in his life. Or, at least, important things. Bruce really doesn’t need to know everything about Dick’s life and probably doesn’t even want to know everything to do with Dick’s life.

That’s how Dick finds himself wandering down into the cave where Bruce is currently going over reports, with Clark floating there beside the man, legs crossed, while eating a ham and cheese sandwich that Alfred probably made. Dick hums as he approaches and peers over Clark’s shoulder, breathing in the outdoorsy, windy smell of the Kryptonian. Clark might be fifteen years older than him but that isn’t going to stop Dick from indulging in his childhood crush.

“Hmm, that smells good,” he says, not clarifying if it is Clark he’s talking about or the sandwich. He backs off and moves to the side of Clark. “Alfred makes a mean sandwich, doesn’t he?”

Clark smiles brightly at him and Dick is reminded exactly why he had such a huge crush on the Kryptonian back when puberty struck. “He does. Y’all are lucky to have him here.”

Dick snorts a laugh but doesn’t miss Bruce’s annoyed huff at Clark’s use of y’all. Dick honestly doesn’t mind it when Clark’s Mid-Western accent starts coming out and if he was still a teenager swooning over the man, he probably would have flushed bright red at the thought of how cute it is. But he currently has another cute meta on his mind. One that he has to finally get the nerve up to telling Bruce about.

He bounces on the balls of his feet and listens to Clark’s soft chewing and Bruce’s consistent tapping on the keys. He holds his hands together behind his back. Dick doesn’t know how to start the conversation. Bruce most likely already knows that he is gay but Dick still feels the need to come out and say it. It’s just easier said than done. Especially when it comes to Batman. After all, Bruce doesn’t like it when discussions turn into the topic of feelings.

“You forgot the first e in accoutrements,” Clark points out, mouth full of sandwich.

Bruce’s fingers pause and Dick waits for the forthcoming lecture of how Bruce doesn’t need to be corrected. Except it never comes and Dick’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion at the scene in front of him. Instead, Bruce glances over at Clark briefly, before hitting the left arrow key several times and then typing in the forgotten e. “Thank you,” Bruce says as the end key is pressed and Bruce continues with what was being typed.

Dick scratches the top of his head. Bruce must be in a good mood because if he had mentioned something, then the preaching surely would have come. He decides to forget about it for now and move on with his own predicament. “Um, Bruce, can I speak with you for a minute?” Bruce grunts Dick’s permission to continue and Dick peeks in Clark’s direction. “Alone?”

Clark coughs, hand in front of lips, and lands on the stone floor. “Oh, yeah, no problem Dick.” Clark smiles at him and then reaches over, placing a hand directly on the back of Bruce’s neck. Bruce isn’t wearing the cowl so it gives Clark the perfect opportunity to massage it with a few squeezes before turning around and heading up the stairs to the main house. Dick watches this strange form of affection, only recalling seeing such a thing once or twice before between the two. But, of course, the way their friendship is displayed, is weird to begin with. He pushes that out of his head as well.

Bruce is facing him now, right elbow resting on the armrest and chin in hand. “What is it?”

“Uh…” Dick pauses, realizing this is a lot harder than he had anticipated. Once again, he doesn’t know how to start. How do you tell Bruce ‘Batman’ Wayne, the epitome of female seduction, that you are gay? “I…” You don’t, that’s how. “I just wanted to let you know that I will be staying in Gotham for a few days and so Nightwing will be seen around.”

Bruce stares at him in that way Batman does, as if the man is reading every inch of your body and then some. As if Batman is looking into your soul and seeing all your deepest, darkest secrets. Dick squirms and Bruce speaks. “You had to have Superman leave to tell me that?”

“Well…”

“You don’t need to inform me if you are going to patrol Gotham. You used to live here.” Bruce turns back to the computer and Dick silently sighs.

“Right. Sorry.” He turns, starting to head towards the stairs. “I’ll send Clark back down.” Bruce just grunts in acknowledgement.

*~~~*

A few days later, Dick decides to try again. Bruce is in the office, at the computer, and Clark is sitting in one of the chairs with a laptop out. The Kryptonian even has those stupid looking glasses on that make Dick blush every time he sees them. Clearing his throat, Dick looks away from Clark before his face can betray him.

Clark looks up and smiles. “Hey Dick.”

Daring a look, Dick smiles back, feeling the slight heat in his cheeks. “Hey Clark, how’s it going?”

“I’ve got this article I have to finish before eight tonight and e-mail it to Perry.” The Kryptonian frowns down at the computer screen. “If I don’t, then Perry will have my head… again.”

Dick chuckles. “What’s it about?”

“Lex’s newest project.” Now Clark is scowling.

Before Clark can elaborate, Bruce is talking. “Luthor’s been smuggling in materials to create some kind of super weapon. We’re assuming, and taking all precautions, that it will utilize Kryptonite.”

“My job,” Clark continues, sticking a tongue out at Bruce for Bruce’s interruption. Bruce just rolls those too observant eyes. “Is to expose Lex and his plan. I’ve already got all my witness statements. I’ve just got to type it up.”

“But that’s easy for you, right?” Dick asks, walking over to Clark and glimpsing at the computer screen. “I mean, you can just use your super speed, right? As fast as the computer can keep up?”

Clark chuckles but Bruce is the one who answers. “He won’t.”

“Why?” Dick asks, finally making his way to Bruce’s desk and perching on it.

Still Bruce answers. “Because he’s an idiot.”

“Because,” Clark starts, shooting Bruce a playfully annoyed look. “That would be cheating.”

“Only you think it’s cheating Kent.” Bruce never glances up and so misses the way Clark’s mouth turns up at the corners in amusement. “You would get a lot more work done if you just used your powers.”

“And you would be the first one to whine at me about taking advantage of my powers in selfish, unnecessary ways.” Bruce grumbles in answer to this, glancing up at Clark for a second before going back to looking at the computer screen. Clark chuckles, shuts the laptop, and stands. When next speaking, Clark addresses Dick. “I assume you came to talk to Bruce?”

“Yeah,” Dick answers.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” Before leaving the room, Clark stops, hand on the knob, and turns to face Bruce. “Oh, Bruce, can I stay for supper?” Bruce hums. “And afterward?” Again, Bruce hums and Clark’s smile grows. “Thanks.” Clark is then gone and Dick is left in confusion once more.

“I don’t get it.” Bruce doesn’t even spare him a glance as Dick starts talking. “I mean, all you did was hum at him and he knew what that meant. He’s good.” Bruce hums. “Are you trying to prove a point now?”

“What do you want Dick?”

“Right.” Dick sits where Clark just was. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“If it’s about extending your stay here, then you are more than welcome,” Bruce says, sounding distracted.

“No, that’s not it.” Dick clears his throat. “Bruce, I’m-” He cuts himself off and this causes Bruce to finally look up at him. “I’m-” Dick swallows. He’s not sure why he is having such a hard time telling Bruce that he is gay. It’s impossible to hide anything from Bruce so Dick will just be telling the man something that Bruce already knows. It’s not a big deal. Even so, when Dick opens his mouth next, what comes out is, “I’m kind of frustrated with my agility lately. Do you think you could help?”

Dick almost slaps himself in the forehead for saying such a stupid thing and he would have it weren’t for Bruce looking at him as if he grew a second head. “Your agility, from what I’ve witnessed over the past couple days, is fine.”

“It doesn’t feel like it. Could you just help?” Bruce is still looking at him as if he isn’t Dick Grayson, acrobat extraordinaire. Dick almost groans but refrains.

Bruce goes back to the work on the computer. “Fine.”

Cheeks aflame with embarrassment, Dick gets up and leaves the room.

*~~~*

The next day, Dick is walking to the kitchen, absolutely determined that today is the day to come out to Bruce. He is done chickening out. On his way, Alfred strides by him with a basket full of dirty clothes. On top of the pile is a very prominent, yellow and tan plaid, long sleeve shirt. Dick does a double take as he peers at the article of clothing, turning a one eighty just to get a better view of it. “Hey Alfred.” Dick jogs to catch up with the elderly man.

Alfred stops, glancing back at Dick. “What is it Master Dick?”

“Is that shirt Bruce’s? When did he start wearing plaid?” Dick asks, grabbing a cuff of the shirt and feeling the material. It’s even flannel.

Alfred has a raised eyebrow and takes the sleeve out of Dick’s hands. “This shirt is Master Clark’s.”

“Oh!” Dick exclaims, shoving his hands into his pocket to resist the urge to grab the soft material again. “Did he stay the night?”

“Indeed, he did, Sir.” Alfred begins to walk again and Dick lets him go.

It’s not all that strange that Clark stayed the night. The Kryptonian had done it all the time when Dick was younger. The only thing that is strange about it now, is that Alfred is doing Clark’s laundry. He’s never seen Alfred bring plaid shirts and khaki pants to the laundry room before. Or, at least, if Alfred has, then Dick has never witnessed it. Though it does make sense, Dick supposes. If Clark stays the night, then, in Alfred’s eyes, it’s only right for the Kryptonian to leave in the morning with clean clothes.

Dick shrugs and heads to the kitchen again. When he gets to the room, he stops short at the sight that greets him. Clark is standing there at the stove, red and black plaid shirt on and glasses placed on his nose. Dick has never seen anyone other than Alfred cooking in the kitchen before let alone Superman. It takes him by surprise and he honestly doesn’t even know what to think about it. Sitting at the table in a silky, black button up is Bruce, laptop open on the table.

Dick looks between the two, Clark whistling and Bruce grumbling. He goes and sits at the table across from Bruce. “Good morning?” Bruce spares him a quick glance but doesn’t say anything, grumbling even louder at whatever work is currently on the computer.

“Oh, don’t mind him.” Clark walks over and sets a plate of waffles down in front of Bruce and Dick. “He’s grumpy this morning.”

“Isn’t he always grumpy?” Dick can’t help but make the comment and it earns him a snort from Clark along with a pat on the head by the Kryptonian.

Clark gazes at Bruce, smiling playfully. “He is.” With a chuckle, Clark backs off when Bruce glares at them. “I’ll be right back.” Without warning, there is a gust of wind and Clark is gone.

“Where did he go?” Dick asks.

Bruce never looks up, completely focused on what he is typing. “We’re bound to find out soon enough.”

“Does he do that often?” Dick pours some maple syrup onto his waffle, eyeing Bruce’s and wondering if the man is going to eat it. “Just disappear like that suddenly?” Bruce shrugs with a hum but never really answers Dick’s question. Dick decides to continue musing. “I mean, we do it a lot but we’re us. He’s Superman. Don’t you think he shouldn’t do that?”

Bruce sighs and hits the backspace key several times. “I’m not his keeper, Dick. He can go and do whatever he wants, when he wants.”

“He can?” Dick is surprised by this. Normally Bruce would have an hour-long rant about how Clark should act more professional as Superman. “You mean when he’s Clark Kent?”

“When he is in any persona,” Bruce’s fingers are typing away again, lips thin.

Dick scratches at his chin, studying Bruce as Dick chews. “So, it’s okay that he does it when he’s Superman and, let’s say, in the middle of a conference?”

Another sigh and Bruce finally looks up at him. “Dick, as long as he has a good enough reason, then I really don’t see why I should be concerned.”

“Okay, whatever.” Dick pauses, waiting for Bruce to focus on work again. “I’ve actually been meaning to tell you something.”

“Okay,” another burst of wind and Clark is standing next to them again, holding a brown paper bag, officially cutting Dick off. “I’ve brought you two some croissants.”

As Clark is pulling the food out, Bruce looks up at the Kryptonian and smiles. Dick’s whole entire world stops spinning because, Bruce smiling? It’s a rare occurrence to begin with but having that Bruce, the real Bruce, smile directed at Clark, is almost nonexistent. Dick doesn’t see that small grin directed at Clark very often and it makes his own lips pull at the corners. He might not understand their friendship, but he sure does love seeing it.

Bruce grabs a croissant. “Thanks.” The man bites into it and chews thoughtfully. Swallowing, Bruce asks, “Did you get these from-”

“Your favorite café in France?” Clark’s smile is warm. “Of course.”

Bruce huffs and to Dick, it almost sounds endearing. Clark places a hand on Bruce’s shoulder and squeezes while Dick contemplates when Clark and Bruce had gone to Paris and ate at a cafe. Bruce hums in appreciation. “Thank you, Clark.”

“Anytime.” Clark smiles at both Bruce and Dick. “Now, if you two will excuse me, I need to get to work. I’ll see you later Bruce.” The Kryptonian speeds out of the room.

Bruce turns his attention to Dick. “So, what is it that you needed to tell me?”

Dick shrugs and gets up, carrying his croissant and plate with him. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter right now.” He gestures to the laptop. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

When Dick gets to the kitchen doorway, he turns around briefly to peer at Bruce. The man is back to typing, eating his croissant from a little café in France.

*~~~*

Clark is pacing down in the cave next to Alfred when Dick wanders down there. By the time Dick gets to the Bat-Computer, Clark is bent over a microphone and pressing a button. “Bruce? Are you sure you don’t need help?”

Bruce’s pained grunt comes from speaker. “I’m… fine.”

Dick watches as Clark’s lips thin, the Kryptonian holding his tongue in order to not anger Bruce by saying something that will be regretted. “What’s going on?” he asks, leaning over the desk to look at the computer screen that is displaying Bruce’s fight. Batman is bruised and bloody, his suit in tatters. Dick bites his bottom lip nervously as he watches. It doesn’t look like Bruce is doing very well out there as the vigilante fights not only Bane, but Killer Croc as well. Dick presses the button to talk to Bruce. “Hey B, you want me to come out and help?”

Another pain filled grunt as Bruce is slammed against the brick wall of a building. “If I didn’t want Superman’s help,” a grunt, “then I don’t want yours.”

“Bruce,” Clark says, leaning close to the microphone. “Please, please listen to me. You need help. Let me help.” Dick has never seen the Kryptonian in such distress before. “You can’t do this all by yourself.”

“Clark,” Bruce snaps as the vigilante dodges a punch from Bane only to bump into Killer Croc who bites one shoulder. When Bruce screams, Clark is gone, the wind from the speed making papers fly everywhere.

Dick watches the screen and all he sees is a blue and red blur that flies across the screen, knocking Bane and Killer Croc out. Batman, who is hunched on the ground, is picked up by the blur and then Clark is back, carrying Bruce bridal style. Dick can already see the grimace of anger on Bruce’s face as Clark sets the man down onto a cot. The Kryptonian starts helping Bruce strip out of the Batsuit but Bruce pushes Clark away, snapping. “Get off me!”

Clark flinches back, hands turning into loose fists. “I was only helping Bruce.”

“I told you I didn’t need it.” Bruce yanks off part of the suit, dropping it angrily to the ground. “I didn’t need help.”

“Yes, you did!” Clark retorts, crossing arms. “You’re just too stubborn to see it.” Bruce’s eyes narrow but the man says nothing.

Dick steps forward. “I agree with Clark, Bruce. You were getting beat out there. If Clark hadn’t stepped in…” Dick trails off, the thought of what could have happened to Bruce sinking his heart. Bruce could have died in this fight. Dick thinks about all of the things that he would regret not telling Bruce, all the things about his life and his feelings. About Wally. Dick swallows thickly and places a reassuring arm on Clark’s shoulder. “I’m glad he saved you Bruce, even if you aren’t.”

Bruce stares at them and Dick hears Alfred cough. Bruce sighs and slumps on the cot. “I know and I’m sorry that I snapped at you, Clark.” Bruce looks up at Clark and there is something sincere in the man’s eyes that Dick doesn’t know how to read. “You know I appreciate you being there for me. I just sometimes forget that I need help.”

Clark doesn’t say anything at first but eventually the Kryptonian takes a step closer to Bruce and pulls the man into a tight hug. Clark’s fingers card through Bruce’s hair. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Bruce’s arms come up and wrap around Clark just as tightly, if not tighter. “I know.” Clark pulls away and smiles down at Bruce. Then the Kryptonian’s eyes widen a little, lifting up. “What is it?” Bruce asks Clark.

“A fire in California.” Clark frowns down at Bruce.

Bruce gives Clark a reassuring smile. “Go. I’ll be fine. Alfred can patch me up.” With one last smile and squeeze to both of Bruce’s shoulders, Clark is gone in another puff of air.

Bruce sighs and finishes getting undressed as Alfred approaches with needles and gauze. Dick takes a deep breath and sits down in the chair, feeling exhausted despite not really being as worried as Clark earlier. As Bruce gets stitched up by Alfred, Dick reaches out to a mug that is sitting on the desk, turning it around so he can read the print on it. It’s a Smallville mug and Dick scrunches his eyebrows at it. He’s never seen it before.

“When did you get this?” Dick asks, indicating the mug.

Bruce looks over nonchalantly, not even flinching as the needle is pressed into skin. “It’s not mine. It’s Clark’s.”

Dick studies the mug, contemplating. “Since when does he bring his own mugs here?”

“Since,” Bruce starts, getting up from the cot much to Alfred’s annoyance. “It’s his favorite mug to use.”

“But… why is it here? Why did he need to bring it here?” Dick asks.

Bruce’s eyebrows furrow. “It’s his favorite and he wants to drink out of it.” Bruce grabs the towel that Alfred offers him, wiping sweat off of his blood soaked neck and chest. The towel stains red but most of the ones down in the cave are already carrying the same discolorations anyway. “Why?”

Dick shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve just never seen it here and I didn’t expect Clark to bring a mug of his own just because he’s unsatisfied with ours.”

“It’s not that he is unsatisfied,” Bruce watches Alfred pick up the shredded Batsuit while talking. “It’s just that he prefers that one.”

Dick blinks, still not really understanding. Clark has always, from what Dick has observed, been perfectly fine with using their dishes here at the Manor. Why bring his own all of a sudden? Shaking his head, Dick decides to push the thought away for now. Tonight’s event has shown Dick that he can’t wait any longer to tell Bruce his important news, because there may come a day in the future when it will be too late.

“Hey Bruce?” Bruce stops walking in the direction of the bathroom. “Can I talk to you?” Bruce nods once, draping a clean towel over his unbitten shoulder. “I have something to tell you.” Dick squirms under Bruce’s scrutiny, the man looking at him as if bored. But Dick has to do this. It’s now or never. “I’m gay.”

Bruce is silent at first with absolutely zero reactions. The man just watches him, hip cocked slightly to the right, and left hand holding onto the towel. Bruce makes no move, no sound, nothing. Then, as if playing with Dick, an ear splitting smile appears on the man’s face. The next thing that comes out of Bruce’s mouth, Dick never thought he would witness. “Bitch, me too.”

Dick’s mouth falls open as he gapes, not trusting his ears to have heard right. “What?” Bruce huffs and rolls blue eyes, turning around to start walking towards the shower. Dick catches up to him. “Wait. What do you mean ‘bitch, me too’?”

Bruce looks at him from the corners of those eyes. “I was trying to be funny. Obviously, I failed.”

“What do you mean you were trying to be funny? Trying to be funny by calling me a bitch or funny as in you’re not really gay?” Dick grabs a hold of Bruce’s shoulder, the one that isn’t bit, and stops Bruce from walking. “Please talk to me.”

Bruce sighs, turning to Dick. “The bitch part. I saw it on some drag race show. What was it called?” Bruce snaps fingers. “RuPaul’s Drag Race. They use it all the time. All T, no shade. Isn’t that what you kids say?”

Dick shakes his head, stunned. “No.”

Bruce blinks at him a few times before shrugging, starting the journey to the shower once more. “Oh well.”

Dick watches the man go, mouth agape again. He shakes himself out of his shock and once again chases after Bruce. “Wait! You’re gay? Since when?”

“Uh, since puberty.” Bruce nods at him, entering the bathroom that is located in the cave.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Dick asks.

“I didn’t think it was important. It’s not a secret and you didn’t ask.” Bruce turns on the shower, sticking a hand under the spray of water to test the temperature.

“Bruce!” Dick exclaims. “You’re hitting on women all the time. How the hell was I supposed to know?”

Bruce’s eyebrows are furrowed again, reaching down to remove the boxer briefs that are being worn. “Because I’m dating Clark.” Bruce says it as if Dick should have already known that bit of information about the Batman’s life.

Dick’s jaw comes unhinged and hits the floor. “You’re… you’re dating Superman?” Dick reaches up and grasps onto his head. “Since when?”

Bruce steps into the shower, grabbing the shampoo. “A few years now.”

“A few years!” Dick spins around on the spot, pulling on his hair now. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“I thought you knew,” is the only response Dick gets.

“But… but I’ve never…” Dick flounders, trying to figure out what to say. “I’ve never seen you two be intimate with each other. Do you even kiss him?”

Bruce’s raised eyebrow tells Dick exactly what the man thinks of Dick’s question. “You’ve seen me be intimate with him plenty of times.” Dick gestures for Bruce to continue, completely at a loss. “Our teasing each other, Clark’s small squeezes on my neck and shoulders, Clark cooking breakfast and bringing me croissants from my favorite café in France, the most recent one was when Clark hugged me just now.”

“That is not what I mean!” Dick practically shouts in exasperation, although he doesn’t mean to yell in the confines of the bathroom. “I mean embracing each other for longer periods of time, cuddling, hand holding, kissing.”

Bruce is looking at him as if he’s crazy. “We do that in the privacy of the bedroom.”

And just like that, it all makes sense to Dick. “PDA.” Dick runs a hand through his hair, trying to bring a little order back to it. “You don’t like public displays of affection.” Bruce is no longer looking at him, faint pink tint forming on the man’s cheeks. Dick smiles wide, happy and giddy at his discovery. “Well, Bruce, I hope you don’t mind seeing PDA because when I bring Wally over here, there’s going to be plenty.” He winks at Bruce and laughs when the only response he gets is an eye roll and Bruce chucking the shampoo bottle at him.

Dick dodges the bottle, cackling, and leaves the bathroom. He feels happy and satisfied now that he finally has that weight off his chest. And in hindsight, he now realizes just how ridiculous it was to be afraid of Bruce not accepting him as being gay and in a relationship with Wally. He also learned that he needs to be more observant, considering how many signs went completely over his head, but that’s beside the point. His adoptive father not only accepts Dick for who he is and who he is currently dating, but Bruce is also dating the best superhero in the world.

And really, what more could Dick ask for?

A/N: I really hope you enjoyed Res!! Thanks for reading!!

#DC Comics #SuperBat #Superman #Batman #Nightwing #Clark Kent #Kal El #Bruce Wayne #Dick Grayson #Bitch Me Too!#My Fanfiction #sfw

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a-stray-black-cat · 7 years ago

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((First, lemme just say...I’m only uploading this because my best friend wanted me to- shhh, we’re kinda playing a game of hide and seek and she’s trying to find this account of mine, don’t tell her you saw me ;3 x’DDDD Ialsofoundoutthatshe’sshippingthese twowhich...I...Idon’tknowhowtofeelaboutthat...honestlymakesmelaughabit x’DDD Second, yes, the little story attached is about Christmas...I rarely get ideas for Christmas stories in December. Its always in like November or even the start of January. I do have one other Christmas-y type story Id like to write if I can find the time but we’ll see what happens. Im not the greatest writer but....I hope you guys like it ^^;;;; I got the idea when I was just screwing around, doodling whatever and I drew this and yeah....ideas for some reason xDD I might actually make a full, proper pic of this scene rather than just having sketchy chibi thingies.......maybe....we’ll see x//DD Also small bit of info just cause I feel I do need to put this here; after Infinite has completely healed after the final fight, Gadget ends up becoming too concerned for Valkyrie’s wellbeing- and everyone else’s wellbeing for that matter- since he doesn’t trust Infinite at all after all the crimes he’s committed so rather than just watching them through surveillance camera’s, he decides to move in with them which....well.....results in a lot of fighting between the two ^^;;; Though don’t get me wrong, I still absolutely love these two as a shipping, it’s just not a thing in this AU because I don’t think Gadget would be able to forgive Infinite for you know....everything that happens in Forces. Anyway! I think I’ve rambled enough...soo...yeah....hope you guys....enjoy the story....if not, I’m really sorry, I tried, I just had this idea and really wanted to write it down and just ahhhh x////DDD)) “Infinite!” Valkyrie gasped as the refurbished front door slammed violently against the wall to his left, causing the photo frames and windows to tremble and quake as she watched the fading, fleeting figure of the black jackal as he raced as far after from the small cottage as he could, ripping through the bushes and brambles with his razor sharp claws as he fled. Did he know where he was going? Of course not. But at this current point of time, anywhere was better than being inside that house that almost made him feel like the walls were caving in on him. Turning on her heel, the black cat ran for the rusted umbrella basket, grabbing the only umbrella they possessed- cobalt blue with golden rings- just in case while looking over at the crimson wolf who stood in the kitchen doorway, showing no signs of going after the jackal himself or even any signs of worry or concern for him. Not that she had been expecting much of a reaction from him. “I’m going after him,” Valkyrie announced, turning and speed walking for the door. “I know,” Gadget responded knowingly as he quickly followed the cat, grabbing her by the arm before she could run off. As she turned her golden orbs up to meet his own hazel ones, his voice turned more serious. “If you aren’t back here in five minutes, I’m coming after you.” Her ears fell back as her gaze briefly fluttered over the large red Wispon that sat beside the umbrella basket, its shiny, bright red metal almost sending shivers down her spine as images of what events would occur next if they weren’t back in time flashed through her mind. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her gaze, staring directly into the wolf’s eyes. “There’ll be no need for that,” she assured him as she freed her arm from his grasp turning and giving chase, making sure to close the door behind her with a gentle click. The sky above that had hours earlier been clear as crystal, was now shrouded in dark, menacing clouds that seemed like gigantic black sheep slowly floating across the sky, biding their time, waiting for the perfect moment. The many birds and woodland creatures that all day they’d been able to hear chattering and singing away had since vanished, causing an almost eerie silence to fall over the entire forested area. In all honesty, the day had gone from looking bright and full of life to almost as though the apocalypse was right around the corner yet again. However, the scenery nor the silence seemed to get to the black jackal as he stormed on, his fast sprint slowing into a light jog and eventually an angered stomp as he entered a rather open, empty field, the blades of emerald grass being long enough to lightly tickle his knees. Giving a heavy sigh, he dropped himself down onto the ground, bringing his knees up to his chest as he sat in absolute silence, gathering his thoughts and finally taking the time to properly think about today’s events with a clear, mostly calm mind. His housemates, the black cat who’d been with him for almost a year now and the crimson wolf he was certain was more than likely planning fifty ways to kill him in his sleep- not that he could even if he tried- were plotting together behind his back to try and put together a massive Christmas celebration, and he was just expected to be happy and jolly about it? To come skipping down the stairs like some sort of overjoyed school girl, singing one of those many repulsive Christmas jingles he knew was going to get stuck in his head for months to come? To put on one of those ridiculous looking Santa hats or reindeer antlers and group up for a “wacky, fun” Christmas photo? Chaos, no. Not over his dead body. They could keep all that “holiday cheer”, as one might call it to themselves thank you very much; Infinite did not want a single part of it. Christmas had never been a good time of year for the jackal, not even during his younger years. Thinking about this time of year, about the upcoming celebrations, about all the laughter and joy that was suppose to be had…it seemed to make the canine’s heart weight heavy in his chest. Though there were a handful of times after he’d become the Leader of the Jackal Squad that Christmas wasn’t too terrible. The first few Christmas’s they’d spent together hadn’t been anything really noteworthy but the previous year’s Christmas…now that had been something to remember. Placing one of his clawed hands over his scarred chest, he let his eyes slowly close as he allowed the memory to overtake his mind for a few minutes, allowing himself to relish in these precious memories of times now long gone. Behind his eyelids, an image began to bloom into vision; the very first thing he could see was a small campfire, sparking and burning fiercely in the darkness with a long, thin stick cradled over the top, held in place by two forked sticks to make a sort of mini spit roast for the rather large ham they’d managed to get their claws on. The fire began to light up the small area slightly, revealing a few shadowy, blurry shapes as they began to twist and form… And eventually solidify into several different, varying people- no, not just people. They were jackals. Jackals that had once belonged to his Squad. The Squad that had been like a second family to him. The ones he’d loved as though they truly were his biological siblings. The one’s he’d promised to protect, no matter what….and the one’s he’d failed that cold, dark night. Before he could be consumed by these other thoughts, voices began to reach his ears, dragging him back into more blissful, peaceful and heart warming ones. He could hear each member of his Squad as they began to materialize gathered around the fire on each of his sides. He could hear them joking, teasing one another, laughing….each voice was so different and yet he could identify each one perfectly, even though most of the time, they were overlapping and yelling over one another in their excitement and happiness. He watched quite proudly as each jackal ate their fill, being quite ecstatic to see them all properly fed for once. It was so hard for them to come by a decent meal on a regular basis after all. At the end of the day, they may not have gathered a lot of food for a massive, mouthwatering feast that would take them weeks to finish. Nor did they have a fancy plastic tree decorated with jingling bells or bright, shiny balls. There wasn’t a single present for any of them to open and yet they were just all thrilled to be together on this special day, relishing in each other’s company. The greatest gift they had on this day was each other. However it appeared as though Mother Nature did have one gift for them, which came in the form of a single snowflake which cascaded down, lightly landing ontop of the Christmas ham that hung over the blazing campfire. Snow. It had been what everyone had been looking forward to the most. And just seeing that single snowflake sent all of the jackals into an extremely enthusiastic, almost bouncy, energetic mood. Infinite felt the corners of his mouth twitch slightly as he savoured these memories dearly, as though it would be the last time he’d ever see them. He felt his lips twitch once more as his mouth slowly began to curl up to form a-- “Infinite?” Suddenly, the jackal jolted to life as he practically sprung to his feet, spinning around and facing whoever was behind him while opening his multicolored orbs as his heart raced madly in his chest as he took up an offensive position, preparing to attack however dared tried to sneak up on him. He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of irritation as he met the worried, slightly fearful golden eyes of Valkyrie as she stood a few feet behind him, a hideous cobalt umbrella spread out above her head as she took two quick steps back in surprise. He let his eyes narrow slightly as he felt his body slowly relaxing as the scent of her slight fear reached his nose while he ran a hand quickly through his long white dreadlocks mere seconds before a light breeze blew past, ruffling them up again. “Oh…it’s you.” He grumbled in annoyance as he returned to his sitting spot, seeming to be about to pretend like the cat wasn’t there or that the blades of grass that were tickling his legs- and were also making him quite itchy- were the most interesting things to ever exist. Swallowing hard once she felt her heart rate slowly returning to normal as her friend took his spot back, Valkyrie managed to put a weak smile on her face as she tried to add a joking tone to her voice that just didn’t quite seem to stick. “Well someone had to chase after you and we all know it Gadget wouldn’t take the role.” “For good reason.” The jackal coldly responded, pulling up a few blades of grass and twirling them between his index and middle fingers as his gaze rose up towards the dark sky above. Valkyrie felt her tail beginning to wag out of nervousness as her ears drooped back, speechless as to how to respond to such an upfront response. So instead, she decided to get right to the point. “Infinite….do…you not celebrate Christmas?” She inquired, twirling the umbrella in her hands slightly. The silence that followed her question seemed to stretch on for what felt like years before finally, he responded. “I think it’s a pointless holiday. It’s nothing but a massive waste of time and money. If you and that fool are still going to celebrate, then I shall hibernate in my room until you are done.” Valkyrie felt a sharp pang of pain in her heart as she took a small step forward, a certain sadness yet confidence to her voice. “But we’re setting all of this up for you…” Infinite’s ear gave a small flick in response yet underneath his cold, distant exterior, he was quite surprised to hear these words. Yet his voice refused to give away his astonishment.“What?” “I thought it would be nice,” the cat continued to explain as her gaze drifted down, lingering on her dark boots. “I thought it would make you smile…I didn’t fully understand the concept of Christmas since I’ve never celebrated it myself so I had to get Gadget to help me.” A rather nervous smile briefly flickered onto her lips. “You can imagine how hard it was for me to convince him to help …” She rose her gaze, looking at the white splotch of fur on the jackal’s back as she continued. “But I managed to do it and together, we’ve spent the entire day decorating the house, finding a tree on such short notice and even cooking Christmas dinner together just to make everything as perfect as possible….if you’re not there, then we’re missing the entire reason why we’ve done this.” Infinite shook his head briskly. “You two can still celebrate together. I don’t need to be there; you just want me to be there.” “I do. Because it wouldn’t be Christmas if you’re not there to celebrate with us. You’re suppose to celebrate Christmas with your close friends and family…and well…” Slowly, the black cat came to stand beside the jackal, looking down at him with a bright, warm smile on her face. “You’re my best friend, Infinite. You’re basically like family to me at this point and I’d love to spend my first real Christmas with you.” Now that confession shocked the jackal more so than her first one. Closing his eyes tightly, he turned his head away from her, his bushy tail giving a few soft wags- possibly from happiness or more probably from nervousness- as he ignored the cat, her words still ringing loudly in his ears. He hadn’t heard someone refer to him as being like family since…. “Hey look! It’s snowing!” The jackal slowly opened one of his eyes, gazing up just in time to see the first few falling snowflakes of the season. To his side, Valkyrie seemed about ready to burst with happiness at the sight of the falling white flakes as a wide smile quickly spread across her muzzle, her eyes seeming to almost sparkle at the sight before them. “It’s so pretty…” “You make it sound as though you’ve never seen snow before,” the jackal inquired in an ever so slightly curious way, while at the same time, still managing to make it seem like he truly didn’t care about her answer. “I haven’t. Well…not until now….” The cat’s smile rapidly began to grow as she looked down at her close friend, her tail wagging rapidly in excitement. “Now it really is going to be the greatest Christmas ever! Come on Infinite, you have to come back and join in with us!” Infinite was still on the fence about this whole Christmas thing; a part of him truly wanted nothing to do with this holiday. He wanted to just go home, go to his room and barricade himself inside for the rest of the day. He didn’t want anything to do with this holiday that seemed to only make his heart grow heavy with emotions he’d thought he had long since become numb to. Yet another part of him didn’t want the cat’s efforts to go to waste. She was, after all, doing all of this for him. She’d even somehow managed to convince that kid to help out- something he knows must have taken her half to morning to achieve- and even gathered together a Christmas tree and most of what was needed for a Christmas feast- most but not all. It looked like they were missing a fairly big chunk of the food required but they did manage to get their hands on a ham so that was to be applauded, he supposed. The jackal let his shoulders sag as a heavy sigh escaped him. Then, he rose to his feet as snow continued to lightly fall around them, beginning to lightly dust the emerald landscape in a gentle shade of white. “Fine….but if this just ends up wasting my time, you’re both going to hear about it for the rest of the year….” At those words, the cat’s excitement and happiness seemed to explode as a rather high pitched meow unintentionally escaped her, followed by rather loud purring escaping her. “Thank you so much! I promise, you won’t regret it!” “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered as he turned, following the cat back to their small little home, tucked away from civilization, watching her from several feet behind as she was practically skipping home. The jackal almost felt his lips curling up once more; perhaps this Christmas wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

#sth #sonic oc #little story thing #infinite the jackal #Christmas story thing #I really dont know what to tag this as honestly #Im really really sorry if its bad #But if you've read it thanks for reading #It means a lot

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hotchnerfuckmeup · 8 years ago

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Behind Tinted Windows

Pairing: Paget Brewster x Reader

Request: @lovedannixoxo asked: Hey! I'm like totally obsessed with your writing and I just wondered if you could write something for me? Could you do a 'paget Brewster X reader' relationship thing? Like where the reader is British and her, paget and the rest of the cast are in London, attending the TV choice awards where criminal minds is nominated. It doesn't matter of they win or not and smut/fluff is a bonus. It's totally cool if you can't, but totally amazing if you can ❤ Thanks ❤❤

A/N: I can absolutely do this request!! Hope you enjoy! This is my first time writing girl on girl smut, so I hope I don’t disappoint...

I’M BACK BITCHES!!! Did ya miss me?? Here is the first of a long stream of fics that have been requested AGES ago... I know I’ve said this a lot lately, but thank you all so much for your patience. I’m hopping back on this writing train and going ham at the requests right now, so get ready to get at least one update a day from me! Gonna be filled with smut, fluff, angst, and just about everything else, so buckle up and hold on tight, cause we are ready to take the fuck off.

Warning: smut duh

“You nervous?” you asked, gently rubbing Paget’s arm. She looked stunning in her ensemble, a formal gown hugging her curves in all the right places. My, my were you lucky.

“Am I ever nervous?” she replied with a smile.

“It’s our first public appearance together and despite that we are now in the 21st century, people are still-”

She cut you off with a kiss and wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you close to her. You smiled into the kiss, snaking your arms around her neck to sink deeper into her affection.

“I’d kiss you in front of the queen,” she whispered against your mouth. Smiling, you pulled away to look at her.

“If you don’t stop, we’re going to be late.”

She playfully rolled her eyes and smacked your bum. “Let’s get going then.”

Two hours later, you, Paget and the rest of the cast of her show Criminal Minds were at the TV Choice Awards. You were all backstage in the green room, waiting for the show to start before you took your seats in the audience.

“It’s beautiful here,” AJ said to you as she sipped a glass of champagne.

“But it’s always raining,” Shemar pointed out. You shook your head.

“Hey, I don’t control the weather, alright?” you replied, giving his arm a small smack.

“Show starts in five,” a man said from the door, prompting everyone to stand up and head out.

“I’m just thinking that it would be nicer if the weather wasn’t always so dreary,” Shemar continued as you all made your way through the crowd of famous faces towards your seats.

“Am I not enough of an excuse for you to visit London?” you asked playfully, feigning hurt with a hand on your chest.

“You’re always a good excuse,” Paget said with a hand on the small of your back. It was comforting to know she wanted to be completely open about your relationship.

“Alright love birds, let’s get to our seats before they start rolling,” Joe said at the back of the pack.

Twenty minutes later, the show was in motion, announcing winners for choice comedy series, choice comedy actress and actor, and they were getting close to announcing the nominees for choice TV Crime drama, the award that your favorite cast was up for.

“And here are your nominees for Choice TV Crime Drama,” David Tennant said into the microphone.

“You guys got this,” you said to your girlfriend and her cast mates. Paget was squeezing your hand slightly, her nerves obvious. You squeezed back reassuringly as Emily Blunt leaned towards the mic, the winner card in her hand.

“And the winner for Choice TV Crime Drama is...” Slowly to build the tension, she pulled out the card. You could hear a pin drop. “Sherlock!” Blunt shouted with a wide smile on her face.

You felt every one of your friends slump in their seats, disappointed in their loss. Paget let go of your hand and sighed, clapping for the cast of Sherlock as they headed toward the stage, Cumberbatch speaking a thank you into the microphone.

“You’re winners in my book,” you said into her ear. She looked over at you with a smile, leaning in to press her lips to yours.

Two hours after the ceremony, the after party was in full swing, celebrities littered throughout the large room.

Instead of the nice and rather formal attire you had been wearing at the ceremony, everyone was now in more clubbing-casual dresses and suits. your girlfriend looked so sexy in her mini dress with its enticing cutouts on the sides and back.

Paget had pulled you onto the dance floor numerous times, the alcohol in your system making it easier to get into the music, a silly mood taking you over completely.

Paget had downed her fourth glass of champagne and even did three shots with Kirsten and Shemar, so you knew she was definitely feeling it too, and you also knew that she was probably bummed about their loss. You knew just how to cheer her up.

Beyonce’s ‘Crazy In Love’ Fifty Shades remake was blaring through the numerous speakers in the room, the perfect song for some sweet seduction.

You slowed your crazy drunken moves, moving your hips in a alluring manner, making sure Paget was looking at you. She was slowing down, too, watching as you moved to the beat of the song. You knew you had her full attention now. You grabbed her wrist to pull her to you, turning her so her back was to your front. You did a quick glance around to see if there was any prying eyes on you and your girlfriend, and when you were certain the coast was clear, you took the opportunity to grab firmly onto her hips, grinding yourself into her backside.

Paget rolled her head back, letting it fall onto your shoulders as your body continued its torturous movements. Knowing that no one was watching, you let your hand sneak to the bottom of her mini dress, slipping under the soft fabric and laying flat against her heat.

“You shouldn’t be upset about your loss,” you said into her ear, nipping at the flesh of her neck. She moaned at your touch and brought her hands up behind her, tangling her fingers into your hair. you smiled as your hand made its way into the fabric of her underwear, feeling her lips soaked in her arousal and slipping a finger gently into the folds of her pussy, all the while you continued to grind into her.

Her lips parted at the feeling of your fingers, her legs instinctively closing around your hand.

“I can make you feel better,” you whispered confidently, loving the affect the alcohol had on you. You were usually shy about your relationship in public, but right now you didn’t have a care in the world. And the fact that you were currently knuckles deep in your girlfriend in the middle of a very public place just made your own arousal heighten.

“Come on,” you said, stopping your actions and pulling Paget to the open front door of the venue, desperate to get out of there. She followed eagerly, giggling like a teenager. The limo you had arrived in was still sitting out front, the driver leaning against it, looking at his phone.

You pulled some money out of your cleavage and handed it to the man. “Keep the doors locked and don’t let anyone in,” you told him as you opened one of the doors. His eyes widened at the amount of cash you gave him.

“No problem,” he replied enthusiastically, holding the door open so you and Paget could climb in. Once you were both in the limo, away from any eyes, you heard the doors click locked and within no time, your lips were on Paget’s, devouring her. Thank god these windows were so tinted.

She tasted like Paget, but mixed with the sweet taste of champagne and vodka, making it all the more savory. Her hands were all over your body, grabbing and caressing, pulling you closer to her own. Your tongues were tangoing, attacking each other in sweet bliss.

You pulled away and looked at Paget. Her hair was a mess and her cheeks were flushed. She looked so fucking gorgeous.

Quickly, you laid down onto the long seat, grabbing her hips and pulling them towards you.

“Sit on my face,” you breathed, desperately wanting to taste her. She smirked and hiked up the bottom of her dress, pulling down her tiny panties while you rubbed at your own center, watching her. She bit her bottom lips as she swung a leg over your head, straddling your face. She moaned as she rubbed her clit, readying herself for what she knew was about to come.

You stopped touching yourself long enough to grab her hips and bring her glistening pussy to your mouth, licking clean up her slit and moaning at the taste of her sweet juices. Her head rolled back at the feeling, instantly reacting to your raiding tongue. She leaned back and placed her hands on your knees to keep steady.

You sucked on her clit while bringing forward a hand to plunge two fingers back onto her heat, invading the tight space over and over again. Her moans were loud throughout the limo, but it was music to your ears.

“Fuck my tongue and fingers,” you whispered seductively as you felt her fingers on your own pussy all of the sudden.

She took no time to oblige, riding your face and finger, thrusting steadily while she started to finger you herself. You smiled at the feeling of her nimble fingers inside of you, but knew the moment would fall short when she started to reach her climax.

Approaching her orgasm, she leaned forward on the seat, her hips moving furiously against your tongue and chin while she cried out your name in short breaths, unable to hold on any longer.

“Come on me,” you said against her pussy, the vibrations of your voice sending her straight over the edge, screaming your name in a long stream of curses.

Once she’d ridden out her high and was finally spent, she backed up to meet your face, her climax glistening on your chin and running down your neck. She smiled as she flicked her tongue out and cleaned up her mess, making you giggle in delight.

“I certainly feel like I won tonight,” she said, giving you a passionate kiss.

“I feel like I’ve won every day.”

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sprinkleofhappinessuniverse · 8 years ago

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A Netflix Kinda Night

Prompt: Hi if you are thinking of writing from the prompt list could you please write this “I brought over 2 pizzas and an entire package of oreos” with Bucky? Thank you - @kjs-s

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,015

Warnings: None just pure fluff.

A/N: This was requested by the lovely @kjs-s! Thank you for requesting! This was so fun to write and I think it's given my momentum to write is back which was the aim☺️

You were the newest addition to the Avengers team and had taken an interest in Bucky. You found him intriguing. You had learnt about his past, which was troubled to say the least and could see the events still affected him to this day. He was fairly quiet and moved about with an air of mystery however you were one of the few people to break through the barrier that encased him in shyness.

In terms of personality, you were the opposite. Your bubbly talkativeness contrasted with his quiet, brooding. You had the ability to spark a conversation which absolutely anyone, no matter how quiet or introverted they were. Tony often teased you and would say “you could start a conversation in an empty room. Or with a mute or deaf person.” The last part was partially true, seeing as you had recently learned sign language.

Despite the contrast in personalities you and Bucky had definitely become friends. Which was how you were able to tell that Bucky wasn't feeling too good. Although, you hadn't been around often, you knew when he was getting into one of his sad moods. It was understandable given his past. You tried your hardest to make him feel better and today was no different.

Evening had approached and the rest of the team went the separate ways. Since his last mission Bucky had distanced himself and you figured it was time he had some company. This evening was looking like a Netflix kinda evening.

After ordering up some pizzas and grabbing some snacks you made your way to Bucky’s room. Although you had your hands full you were somehow able to manage knocking on his door, using your unique, signature knock so that he knew it was you knocking. You heard the unmistakable sound of shuffling and Bucky opened the door. He gave you a small smile.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” He asked as his eyes fell to the food.

“You seemed a little down in the dumps and I figured you could use some company.” You said shaking the food a little for emphasis. “Tony gave you your own TV right?”

“Uh, yeah, but--” Bucky started, sounding hesitant but immediately stopping he saw the look you shot him.

“Sometimes spending a little time with friends can do you good. And Netflix and good food. I brought over 2 pizzas and a packet of Oreos and seeing as you missed out on the 90s experience I need to get you hooked on The Fresh Prince Of Bel Air.” You said grinning. You could see Bucky hesitate and you worried for a moment that he'd send you away.

“What pizza toppings are they?” He asked now smiling.

“Ones good ol’ pepperoni and the other is ham and pineapple.”

“Okay you can come in.” He finally said opening the door to let you in.

“Oh thank god. I paid almost twenty bucks for this and the pizza’s stuffed crust.” You said, teasing him lightly.

He helped you lay the stuff on the bed and you got up Netflix and logged into your account (Bucky was still getting used to working a TV, much to your amusement). The the two of you settled down legs crossed on the bed.

“You can talk to me y’know.” You said opening up the pizza box.

“What do you mean?” He replied.

“I've noticed you've been down lately and I want you to know I'm here for you. And I won't go babbling to the others either. Scout’s promise.” You said adding in a joke to try and make him feel more comfortable. You could see Bucky was tense although he tried to hide it with a smile.

“It's just… you know...trying to adjust. The nightmares aren't as frequent but my last mission...even though I was saving people I couldn't help but remember everything I've done in the past.” He sighed running a hand through his hair. You reached over and squeezed his other hand that rested on his lap.

“I understand. It's gotta be hard and at risk of sounding like Rafiki from The Lion King - which I'm totally gonna get you to watch by the way - the past is in the past and it where you choose to go now that matters. And the fact that you're part of the Avengers, saving people and making a difference, it makes you a good person. And you're pretty cool because you have pineapple on you pizza.” You said to him causing him to chuckle at the last part.

“Thanks Y/N.” he said quietly.

“Now let's watch this shall we?” You said getting The Fresh Prince Of Bel Air up.

“So what country is he a prince of?” Bucky asked you. He asked you so innocently that it made you laugh. “Why are you laughing?”

“He's not actually a prince. The Fresh Prince is his street name.” You laughed.

“Seriously? The Fresh Prince?” Bucky said chuckling and raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll have you know The Fresh Prince was one of the coolest musicians back in the day.”

Bucky raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Back in the day? You know I'm older than you right?”

“Sorry old man. I forgot you're almost a hundred years old.” You teased causing him to laugh. After your joking around you finally put the show and although it took an episode and a half of watching Will Smith annoy the Banks’ family, you could feel Bucky relax. Absentmindedly, your hand reached towards his hair and you began playing with it. You didn't realise until he turned his head towards you, corner of his mouth upturned in a small smile.

“Sorry!” You whispered, smiling apologetically.

“It's okay, I like it. It's relaxing.” He whispered back and you continued. He leaned his head over so it touched yours.

“We need to do this more often.” You said.

“We do.”

Tags: @poe-also-bucky, @lilasiannerd

#Bucky x reader #bucky Drabble #bucky Barnes #fluffy bucky Barnes #fluffy Drabble

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adhd-ahamilton · 8 years ago

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Joy To The World, 1, 4 and 5!

Hoo boy, so many questions!!! I hope you’re prepared for the deluge that’s gonna result...~ I’ll answer these tonight and finish the ones in the other messages tomorrow morning!

1. What inspired you to write the fic this way?

So. Over the last five or so years I’ve been writing fic, in all but the second year, I’ve written a special Christmas-related fic for Christmas. (And I did two the first year, so.) Christmas is a really important holiday to me and I really love Christmas-related stuff (the cheesier and sillier the better), so it became kind of a tradition. But this year, I was at a little bit of a loss. I knew I wanted to write Lams, because that’s my big thing right now. But how would I write Christmas Lams? Did they even properly ‘celebrate’ Christmas during that time period?? Or should I just go for an AU?

I researched it, and thankfully it turns out that the 18th century is around when people did start to celebrate Christmas in the modern sense (and it’s also when carols really started to come about, which is great because per tradition all my Christmas fic are titled after a carol), but that was just the beginning of the issue. When exactly would it be set? Valley Forge? But, uh... I highly doubted they would be really doing all that much at that point. But I couldn’t really think of any time outside of Lams AU that they’d be together. (And then I found out afterwards that Ham wasn’t even there for Christmas 1777, so, welp.) And I really couldn’t think of any kind of actual plot. I could have done a kind of meditation on their relationships to religion, but I didn’t know that much about which specific form of Christianity they belonged to, and I thought it was something that could be and HAD been done much better by other people. (Plus that’s not really my fave kind of fic to write to begin with.)

So, it wasn’t really working out that well. But still, I really kept trying. Through November, my working plan became almost set in stone: I’d do a combined historical and modern AU fic, switching back and forth between scenes, comparing themes (supply lists in VF compared with finding money for food over Christmas break in modern AU), sorta casually looking at the differences. When I gave it up, it was partly out of lack of interest in the themes, but my conscious reason was ‘I just don’t really care about modern AU Lams.’

...which came to the crux of the problem all along: I’m not really an AU person. Or rather, I’m very not an AU person. I’ve written very few AUs in my time, and almost all of them were historical AUs - certainly not modern day ones, and definitely not school AUs. I don’t have any, like, moral opposition - I can fully appreciate the transformative potential of full-setting AUs and find very interesting the interdependent communities that develop around AU-heavy fandoms as they essentially create their own accepted canons - but I just...don’t tend to like them. I’m very analytical!! The idea of just...MAKING UP not just one character or setting but basically a whole story just always seemed simultaneously too easy and too hard to me!!! Plus, I like to write really interesting and unusual things and try new styles, and one of the most basic points of interests for me in writing is asking what makes these characters and relationships unique, based on their precise personalities and backstories and combinations of traits. None of that lends well to full-setting AUs.

But. As I was mulling this terrible problem over, as usual, I was also running over in my head all kinds of various different characterisation ideas. This time, I was thinking about how it was interesting that Hamilton always seemed to be written in opposition to Henry Laurens, when IRL it seems they had a pretty decent acquaintanceship. And I was thinking about it, and I really started to think that, actually, someone in Hamilton’s point of view - who was constantly abandoned by his father, and desperate for his attention, and incredibly ambitious despite the circumstances of his birth - would be one of the WORST people to understand that an overly-controlling, overly-interested father who expects extremely highly of his son could be a negative influence. Which also added to another thought I’d been having. I always liked one quote from Chernow, that Laurens must have seen in Hamilton what a man who makes himself can do, and it always made me think that Hamilton must have been the same way - that he must have seen in Laurens the man he had always aimed to be. So, Laurens grew up in a good family, acknowledged and promoted by said family, with plenty of money and a great deal of opportunity. To Hamilton... yeah, it’d definitely be hard for him to see the problems with that. (And, you know, there IS a lot of privilege there!! It’s just, y’know, that mental illness doesn’t always listen to that.) But, those thoughts were kinda moot, because I really couldn’t think of any way to contrast these different experiences with fathers in historical verse.

And that’s when it came to me. What if I did a modern AU where Hamilton came down to visit the Laurens family for Christmas?

I didn’t have the time (or, really, the interest) to develop a full-on world for everyone, and a uni AU just seemed to be the most appropriate for this one, anyway. And it also did have a bit of appeal: it always kinda bugged me that in the AUs I read, Hamilton and Laurens never seemed to be studying law, even though that’s historically what they did do. As a law grad, I figured I might as well be the one to write it. (Though law in Australia is p different from in the US - there’s no separate law school, we just study it straight out of high school like anything else - but whatever.) And once I was doing THAT, it was hard for me to escape the fact that, in the real world, studying law hadn’t...exactly always been the best experience for me. Given that Laurens didn’t really want to study it either, it seemed appropriate to lean on those experiences a bit.

Aaand that’s where we really get to the meat of the inspiration behind it, heh. Which is to say: this is possibly the most autobiographical thing I’ve ever written...? I’ll say outright that a lot of it WAS entirely invented - my relationship with my family is nothing like John’s was in this, at all. But my anxieties over studying, and my worries about the future and what a career in law would lead to... yeah, that came from me haha. Because, to get kind of personal about it... well, I graduated July 2015. And in the time since then, I have been employed for about 2.5? months, total. The job scene here, in general and especially for law grads, is just that bad. (And, uh, there was a fair bit of personal fault in my lack of preparation for after I’d graduate? But, seriously, I was really anxious already...) And ever since then - particularly 2016 to the present - I’ve also had a lot of anxiety and depression and stuff going on. At the time I wrote the fic, it was in a position of leaning worse rather than better. So...I honestly don’t know if there was ever, like, a dispassionate fic in there safely cordoned off from my own projections, but if there was, it didn’t last long.

So, I got the idea, and wrote it all up pretty quickly in early December, just kinda ridin’ that catharsis of getting all that stuff out. (And it turned out to be even more relevant than I thought, as ‘trying to enjoy Christmas like you usually do when you’re really not happy’ also ended up a very autobiographical theme.) And that’s how it happened!

As for one or two other things:

I really really didn’t wanna get too into politics in the fic lmao. I don’t feel comfortable with more than the broadest strokes of Hamilton’s beliefs (I’m gonna GET THERE but Im still well rev-verse in Chernow) and I always feel uncomfortable about portraying historical figure in any better light than they deserve when it comes to specific matters. But I also wanted to have Laurens and Hamilton at least as POC because I also think it’s important to increase racial diversity in fanfic in the rare cases that we really get a clear choice. So, I tried to kinda portray that without really getting detailed about any activist stuff or whatever. Which is why in Ham’s argument with Henry he’s really not siding with anyone, he’s just an economics wonk who gets mad when people on both sides of the political aisle don’t make sure their numbers add up, lol. That was my best compromise. (And Philly kinda nudged me when I still got too far off-course;; haha!)

Hamilton has ADHD because: again, I wanted to actually officially write up neurodivergent characters into fic when I had the option of being specific (my Ham is always neurodivergent but obv I can’t explicitly write that into the text of historical verse), and it’s ADHD because......well, I could write a really long thing about that alone lmfao. And I feel like I kind of should in some ways because I know that a lot of people aren’t rly familiar with how ADHD tends to actually, like, feel, for real-life people, and if you aren’t then I KNOW this must sound like a really arbitrary or misguided HC. And I’d really love to write it up and expand education and all, but. It’s also something that hits really close and personal for me and, as someone who can be anxious for days straight over opening entirely innocuous tumblr messages... I just DK I could do it, atm;;;;; Someday I will though, I hope!!! (Tho I will say that I’m totally for all neurodivergent Ham HCs and that honestly my Classic Ham is also influenced by BD and BPD things so I’m p flexible about it.) (Actually I guess I CAN say that my HCs for Ham all involve disorders with extreme moods and mood swings and stuff and ADHD in its lesser known symptoms can absolutely include that, esp with Rejection-Sensitive Dysphoria, so yeah. That’s basically the large part of my reason for that headcanon right there lol.)

4. What's your favorite line of dialogue?

HM OH MAN, I’m not sure!!! Lemme skim it again real quick.

In terms of sheer characterisation efficiency, I always liked the idea of Henry Laurens’ introductory sentence being to complain about John not calling often enough. It’s just such a perfect combination of a) genuinely cares about his son and wants to hear from him, and b) is an asshole who has no idea whatsoever of the pressure he’s putting on his son without offering any concurrent praise or reassurance.

...so yeah I think I’ll leave it at that actually, since this thing is long enough already lol.

5. What part was hardest to write?

I was sitting here trying hard to remember if I really had trouble writing any part of the draft because there was one bit where I stalled briefly but it wasn’t really that bad and I couldn’t even really remember it and apart from that it was super smooth...until I remembered that editing counts as writing. And hoo fucking boy.

I was lucky enough to be able to have my fic beta-ed by Philly! Which I’m super grateful for and the fic is undoubtedly better for it! But it was a really difficult process for me because of my anxiety. And I needed to do it rather quickly, because of course I had to have it finished before Christmas, and my family actually was going away for Christmas where we wouldn’t have internet access.

So I get through almost all of the fic. It’s finally almost done. And then right at the end there’s a bit where Alex and John quickly exchange gifts on Christmas morning. Super short scene. And Philly pointed out that, actually, wouldn’t the rest of the family be taken-aback at them exchanging gifts without them?

And I kind of read that and sat back and. that was right. That was 100% correct. So like. What do I do??? Do I involve the other characters? But the original scene was like, three lines. and I don’t wanna have to write a whole new scene lmao. Do I take it out? But in a earlier scene, I’d had John express a worry that the present he’d gotten for Alex was awful and he really regretted it, and I kinda liked that in this final scene we see that actually he’d just forgotten WHY he’d bought it (he’d remembered Alex saying something about it), and I thought that was a nice thing about how anxiety can really fuck with even your memory and stuff bc in the end there genuinely was no reason to worry. It wasn’t necessary to the fic, but it only came about in the writing - I’m pretty sure the outline was just like ‘and then they exchange gifts or somethign??? IDK’ - and I didn’t want to get rid of it again. But then how do I justify them exchanging gifts alone???

And so that’s how I ended up just sitting there mournfully or pacing back and forth like p LEASE just SAVE ME, just GIVE ME AN OPTION, I have a HOLIDAY TO PACK FOR and THINGS TO DO and I just want this damn fic to be EDITED and DONE ALREADY. I came up with soo many possibilities, none of which satisfied me,lmao. and eventually after wayyyyyy too long of trying to figure it out I settled on something that seemed mostly plausible and then just. wrote it in and skimmed the rest of the fic and posted it lmao.

Which, honestly, is pretty typical proceedings. I tend to have the general ideas come pretty easily to me, and the actual writing is normally pretty smooth - it’s usually the editing where I start rocking back and forth and cursing myself for ever trying to write :’) (Luckily, at that point I’m close enough to the end that I can usually force it through...!!)

#elysianmars #long post #my fanfiction #I...think about things... a lot..............#I got a lot to say okay................................

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