#potentially my favorite thing he's ever said in an interview followed closely by how like 2 minutes later | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reidology · 3 years

Text

Personal space? I don't know her...

Summary: Spencer has no idea what personal space is and it’s really distracting when his face is two inches away from Aaron’s. Or, the one where Spencer accidentally kisses his boss at work.

Pairing: Hotchreid

Word count: 1.1k

CW: fluff, kissing and getting caught

AO3

They were in the office that the local PD set them up in. Hotch and Reid were the only ones who stayed back to look through the unsub's letters. The others were visiting the new crime scene and interviewing the victim’s families.

The unsub had sent threatening letters to each of the victims’ houses, detailing the terrible things he was going to do to them before showing up and following through. Reid was analyzing the handwriting and contents of the letters to figure out what kind of person this unsub is, Aaron was attempting to track down where the letters came from to try to triangulate an approximate location.

Garcia had been quietly working on the computer screen set on the table in front of both men. She’d been so focused on the work that she’d forgotten to hang up, and the men had forgotten she was there, too engulfed in their own work. It was quiet for a while in the office, until Hotch spoke up, “Reid, I think I found something…” He said barely above a whisper, keeping his head down staring at the map in front of him.

Reid looked up at Hotch and leaned over to see what he was pointing at. The younger man was sitting on a rolling chair so he could move around the room without getting up, he’s been on crutches ever since he got shot in the leg.

“This letter’s stamp is a rare one, a collectible. They were only sold in five stores in villages near the city and only for one week. Last week. He could still be nearby, this means he comes to the city to kill, but lives in one of these small towns,”

Spencer cranes his neck to get a better look at the stamp but the letter is too far away on the table.

“These are the five towns, they’re each within sixty miles of every murder,” Aaron points to different places on the map and Spencer sees him circling and drawing lines, but he can’t actually see what Hotch is talking about. And he needs to see, because that’s how his eidetic memory works best.

So while Hotch explains to him the relation between where the stamps were sold and the radius of the kills, Spencer rolls his chair up right next to Aaron. He takes a look at the documents but Hotch’s arm is still in the way! He leans in and up over Hotch’s shoulder to see around it, but doesn’t notice that his boss has stopped talking, too busy making connections between what Hotch discovered and what he found out from the handwriting.

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

Aaron could feel Reid pressing up into his side, shoulders pushed together and his subordinate’s face just two inches from his. Reid didn’t seem to notice how close they were, eyes focused on the pile of maps and letters in front of him. But Aaron could feel the heat radiating off of Spencer, his face was so close he could see all the younger’s little dimples and freckles in delicious detail. Aaron tried not to stare but he couldn’t help himself, Spencer’s hair fell perfectly around his face, tucked behind one ear, making his cheekbone and jawline pop even more. Hotch wanted desperately to touch or to lick, he probably tastes sweet, like cinnamon. He smells like coffee. Maybe if he could just get closer he could feel his soft hair..

Spencer breaks from his concentration suddenly and exclaims “Oh!” as he leans over to grab one of the envelopes, “Hotch I got someth-” but his words were cut off by his boss’s lips on his, no- his lips on his boss’s - oh god - he froze. They both sat there in shock, eyes wide and staring at each other, confused. Neither man understood what had just happened. After three long, grueling seconds of silence, their lips still pressed together, their breaths still held, Spencer murmurs, “Uhm, I got something...” into Hotch’s soft, soft mouth.

Aaron’s mind is on the fritz, to say the least. All he can think of is Spencer’s lips holy shit they’re so soft just like I imagined he’s so pretty up close his eyes are so dreamy I can’t believe this is happening did he really kiss me is this real- He feels Reid’s lips moving against his, but before he can think about how holy shit that feels so good he registers that Reid had actually said something.

“Uhh, hrmmg?” Aaron responds, brows furrowed.

His brain short-circuits, he can’t focus on a proper answer, he has to- he has to— Aaron brings his hands up to Spencer’s perfect sharp jaw, calloused palms to unbelievably soft cheeks, and closes his eyes. He presses closer to Spencer and closes his eyes, hoping that what he's about to do is reciprocated. He tentatively moves to trap Spencer's lips in his own. The younger man takes breathes deeply through his nose, and next thing Hotch knows, a firm pair of hands are on his chest, and the sweetest lips he’s ever kissed are moving against his. The world falls off its axis and stops spinning, dropping into a deep abyss of belonging.

Then, Spencer whimpers and grabs Aaron’s tie, pulling him even closer and slipping his tongue into his mouth. Aaron is drowning, he’s wanted this for so long and now that he has it it’s better than he could have ever imagined. And oh he’s imagined. Their tongues sway together in a perfect dance, they’re lost in each other and the outside fades away. All they feel is warm touches and hungry lips, this is all they ever need-

“OH MY GOD!” Something shrieks and something shatters.

They break apart so quickly that Spencer accidentally yanks Hotch’s tie hard, pulling him back into his face and out of his chair. Aaron yelps as he falls to the floor ass-first, he looks up to complain at Spencer but Spencer is looking at… the screen. The screen where Penelope was standing with her jaw wide open and a puddle of broken mug at her feet. All Spencer could do was splutter nonsense apologies and oh my gods as he blushed harder than ever.

Aaron calmly gets back up onto his chair, clears his throat, adjusts his tie, and says, “So, Penelope we found five potential addresses for the unsub, can you check them out?”

“Oh! Uhmm..yes. Yes, of course, sir,”

Spencer zones out as Penelope talks about the addresses, silently freaking out. He just made out with his boss. At work. In front of Penelope. His worries are cut short by a strong warm hand on his thigh. He looks up at his boss and the hand squeezes comfortingly. Hotch smiles at him, he relaxes and thinks, yeah… this is gonna be good day.

When they all settle back down he hears a quiet mutter, “That was my favorite mug…”

#aaron hotchner x spencer reid #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #hotchreid #aaron hotchner fic #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #my fic #i fucking love penelope

97 notes · View notes

buckysgoldenheart · 4 years

Text

The B****, The Favorite, His Sister & Her Lover

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Henry is in love with you, but you have been avoiding him for a month and you are forced to face the repercussions of your actions when your brother brings him to family dinner. (Fluffy, sorta smutty)

Words: 4979 (Sorry ☹, but I hope you like it if you decide it’s not too long).

All you wanted, well, not wanted, but all you planned for was a simple, hopefully non-stressful dinner where your mother made her lasagna and your brother eased her not-so-innocent attacks on you with his charming personality. It was a Friday. Friday’s were supposed to be relaxing, and if you could ignore the ‘subtle’ digs at your lack of relationship you might even consider it a win.

You sat at the counter, sipping at wine as your small mother slid her lasagna into the oven with two large, rose-printed oven mitts. What should have been a simple task ended up as your mother spending an entire minute adjusting and readjusting the pan until it was dead center on the rack.

“You’re letting all the heat out, mom.”

Her nearly entirely gray-haired head was practically in the oven when she said, “It has to be perfect or it won’t bake evenly, Y/N. If you ever cooked, you would know that. Men like when a woman can cook, you know.”

You rolled your eyes and took another sip of the dark reddish-purple liquid when the doorbell rang. Fucking finally, you thought, Brother dearest to the rescue. You actually loved Johnny almost more than anyone. He was your best friend, and without a doubt, you could show up at his apartment asking for help hiding a body and he would drop everything to google the best place to do it.

Probably a little too eagerly, you set your glass down, jogged to the small foyer, and whipped open the door. “Damn it, Johnny, you’re late. Mom is—”

Your body froze. Johnny was smiling wide, holding up a bottle of gin in his hand and waving it at you like a prize, standing next to the one man you had been trying to avoid for the better half of a month. You closed your parted lips and slid your tongue over them to wet the sudden dryness.

“Where’s mom?” Johnny asked.

You nodded your head in the direction of the kitchen. “Where else?”

You brother slipped by you, disappearing around the corner as he called for your mother. A sharp squeal echoed through the halls a moment later, your mother’s high-pitched tone crying ‘my baby boy,’ over and over.

Looking at the man before you: the blue eyes, the dark brown hair, the plump lips with an uneasy smile, you tried to look welcoming. You were sure you failed miserably, but who could blame you. Avoiding him had been going so well.

“Hi, Y/N.”

You swallowed. “Hi…Henry.” Awkwardly, you opened the door a little wider and stepped to the side. He cleared his throat and brushed passed you, the toned chest you had tried to forget rubbing up against your breasts. “Just, um…” You pointed in the direction of the kitchen before you realized it would just be better for him to follow you. “Follow me.”

When you saw Johnny playfully twirling your mother around to music he had turned on at some point, you internally groaned. He really was the perfect son. Perfect enough to make up for your lack of achievements. Johnny paused, large grin still in place when he saw you and Henry.

“Mom,” He said, gesturing a hand your way, “This is Henry, a good friend. We work together.”

Her eyes brightened even more at the sight of him. Tall, broad, sexy; the perfect potential suitor for her pathetic daughter. You just prayed she could keep her mouth shut for a single night.

“Henry,” She said, taking his hand in hers. “So lovely to meet you. Please, take a seat. What would you like to drink? I can get you anything.”

Henry looked anxious at the sudden onslaught of attention. You knew the feeling, though it was often directed your way in a more negative manner. Before Henry could respond, your brother set a glass of bourbon in front of him to which he responded with a nod, a smile, and a ‘thank you.’

The scene in front of you was more and more beginning to feel like an episode of The Twilight Zone. Henry was sitting at the kitchen counter of your childhood home with a drink in his hand, chatting with your mother and brother like it wasn’t weird. He looked misplaced. He was too big for the room. His shoulders were massive, and he was so, so tall, and there was something about it that had you panicking.

“Johnny!” Your brother looked your way. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked to your old bedroom. You shut the door with an annoyed huff once your bother’s body was barely on your side of it. He observed the room as if he hadn’t seen it a thousand times before then winced when he met your eyes, having run out of places to look. “Oh, don’t give me that.”

You crossed your arms. “What the fuck is he doing here!”

“He said he was going to be alone for the weekend and when I told him I was going home for the night, I offered for him to come.”

Raising an eyebrow, you scoffed. “And why would he accept that thrilling proposal?”

Johnny chucked and rubbed the back of his neck. “Funny thing—”

“Oh, is it?”

“I may have told him you were coming, too…”

“Is that so?” You said a little louder.

Your brother shrugged and sighed. “Look, Y/N, he loves you…a lot. I barely mentioned your name before he started to pack his overnight bag.” He chuckled at the memory. “Personally, I don’t get it. I never really felt like you outgrew that mousy, awkward phase, but I guess he sees passed that.”

Groaning, you grabbed a pillow off your bed and threw it at his head. “Johnny!”

He tossed the pillow back at you and you swatted it away. “He’s a good guy, Y/N. You could do worse. He could probably do better, but he did spend the entire drive here unashamedly asking about you, so he must think otherwise.”

“You’re an ass.”

“I’m the best and you love me.” Johnny walked to you and threw and arm over your shoulders. “Now, come on. We’ve left him alone with our mother. No one deserves that.”

----------

“Oh, I did see that…” Your mother snapped her fingers. “Oh, what was it? Uncle something, the uncle man, no that’s not it, uncle—”

“The Man from U.N.C.L.E,” Henry finished for her.

“Yes!” She smiled triumphantly as if she had come to answer on her own. “I quite enjoyed that one.”

“Well, thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

“My son says you’re Superman as well. Is that so?”

“Mom,” Your brother interrupted as he dragged you back in the room. “Leave Henry alone, alright? He gets questioned all the time. He doesn’t need it from us.”

Your mother swatted a hand. “Oh, nonsense. How am I supposed to get to know Henry here if I don’t ask questions?”

“Are you interviewing him for something?”

As she donned the oven mitts again, bent down, and pulled dinner out of the oven, your mother winked. “Maybe…”

You let out a quiet whimper, grabbed your glass, and downed the rest of your wine in half a second. Johnny nodded your way and handed you the bottle. You nodded back in appreciation and refilled your glass a little more than socially acceptable.

“Ok, now, everyone at the table,” You mother announced.

----------

The lasagna was annoyingly delicious, but the conversation ruined it. You were definitely buzzed by now, trying to scarf down the last of your food. Maybe you could feign illness and dip out before dessert. The two hour drive back to your apartment at nine p.m., tipsy or not, sounded exponentially better than staying the night like you usually did. If only it weren’t illegal and didn’t mean potentially harming yourself or someone else. Johnny watched you sympathetically, so very clearly understanding your discomfort, until your mother drew his attention at the mention of his name.

“John has a girlfriend,” She said to Henry, then looked at her son. “Where is Margaret, Johnny?”

“Business trip,” He replied. When she raised her eyebrows, undoubtedly impressed that her son found a woman important enough to be needed around the world, Johnny elaborated. “Paris this month. She is collaborating with some famous designer out there.”

“She is so smart and beautiful, very driven. It’s extremely impressive. You must be so proud of her.”

Johnny smiled at the thought of his girlfriend. He did love her in a way he’d never loved any other and you knew how hard it was for him when she was gone, so you reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. “I am proud of her. I am, um…I’m actually going to ask her to marry me when she gets back.”

Your mother squealed and practically jumped out of her seat. “Oh, my goodness!” Then, she actually stood and trotted over to her son, wrapped her arms around him and kissed the side of his head. Henry met your eyes as you averted them from the spectacle that was your mother, seeming to be examining every feature of your face with an undetermined expression. You wanted to look away but found yourself unable. His stare reminded you too much of the last time you saw him. The way he had studied you then, it made you melt. It was as if he was trying to figure you out, like he thought you were some kind of otherworldly being with a uniqueness he couldn’t quite find the words to describe.

You watched as his lips slowly parted and your thoughts turned dark. You mother would be ashamed, but she quickly stopped them as she fawned more over your brother. “I’ll have grandchildren in no time!” She placed on last peck on your bother’s cheek before taking her seat again, folding her napkin back over her lap. “Henry, have you met Margaret?”

Henry’s eyes finally left your face. “I have actually.”

“Oh, isn’t she absolutely lovely? Just perfect for my Johnny. I wish Y/N would find someone.”

“Mom,” You and Johnny said at the same time. Here we go. But your mother ignored your protests.

“Someone like you, Henry,” She continued and rested her hand on his forearm. “You would be perfect. You are so charming and sweet and handsome; you’d be good for her. Y/N has a horrible history with men, absolute buffoons. They never treat her right. They never love her.”

“Mom!” Johnny shouted, thankfully trying to protect you, because with each word that passed your mother’s lips, you lost the will to protect yourself.

“But a man like you—”

The sound of your chair skidding across the hardwood drowned out any other noise. You stood, threw your napkin down and, without a word or glance at anyone at the table, left for your room.

Johnny blew out a breath and shook his head. “Mom…”

Her eyebrows rose and she shrugged, her hands out in question like a small child when asked where the last of the cookies went. “What?”

“You need to lay off. Honestly. Give her a break.”

That surprised look on her face quickly shifted. “Oh, please, John. She knows I mean well. When I find her a man, she will thank me.”

“Will she?” Your brother’s lips thinned out. “I’ll go talk to her.”

Henry dabbed his mouth with his napkin and stood. “No. I’ll go,” He said, but paused when your mother put her small hand on his arm again.

“Oh, Henry, dear, you don’t have to deal with her.”

“No, mom,” Johnny interjected. “Let Henry go. I’ll stay and help you with the dishes. I think dinner is over.”

----------

The knock at your door had you groaning. You didn’t want to see anyone, not even Johnny. There was nothing he could say to make it better, to make the entire night disappear as if it never happened. All you wanted to do was lay back in your bed and stare at the little glow stars you had stuck on your ceiling when you were five. If you turned off your bedside lamp, they would shine that bright alien-green color that once had you wishing you could live with some wild, extra-terrestrial being instead of your own mother. But then the door pounded again.

“Not now, Johnny.”

You thought your simple, aggravated tone was enough to persuade anyone to leave you alone, until a moment later when the door eased open. “Not Johnny,” Henry said, and your heart skipped a beat. “Can we talk?”

Keeping your eyes on the little ceiling stars, you said, “I swear to god, if this is about my mom—”

“It’s not.”

“If it’s about the other thing, then the answer is still no.”

Henry quietly groaned, shut the door, and stepped to the side of the bed. The room was suddenly warmer as you met his eyes, and he nudged your legs to the side so he could sit. “Why not?”

You took a deep breath and scooted your body up until your back was against the wall. He still looked at you; determined, you realized. He wanted what he wanted, and he clearly had no plans to leave without answers. “That was an accid—”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes,” You said firmly. “It was.”

He rose a perfect eyebrow. “How so? Neither of us were drunk, we both wanted it. You told me—”

“I know what I told you.”

Henry nodded and swallowed, his eyes darting to the floor for a second before back to you. “Were you lying to me then?”

‘No,’ You wanted to say, but somehow, your lips could not form the word. Though even if they could, you weren’t sure any sound would come out.

“Tell me, how does it happen that two people can admit their feelings for one another, sleep together, and then one of those people decides to leave in the middle of the night and start avoiding the other.”

“Didn’t I just say—”

“Yea, well, I want to talk about it,” he interrupted you, and you didn’t miss the irritation starting to seep into that delectably deep voice of his.

The look on his face had you wishing you could rip out your own stomach to avoid the nausea it induced. At least I feel guilty, you thought. You could be one of those people who lies to get in someone pants and then avoids them. You didn’t lie, so there would always be that.

“Why did you leave?” He asked.

You didn’t even know. Was there actually a single reason, or where there so many little reasons that you couldn’t pinpoint one in particular. Either way, you couldn’t explain. You knew what you felt for him. You knew it scared you, and that you didn’t want to hurt him. But how do you make a stupid choice like unwrapping his arms from your body in the middle of the night while he sleeps so you could leave, and then ever be able to look him in the eye again. You weren’t strong enough for that, not when it came to him. He made you feel amazing and beautiful and loved, and you threw it back in his face.

“Y/N—”

“Can we please not do this,” You whispered.

“No, we are doing this,” Henry said, standing sharply. “We are definitely doing this.”

You stood as well, willing yourself to be as tall as him. At least then it would be fair, but he was inches above you, and you didn’t possess the magical abilities to make yourself grow after the age of 15, so… “Henry—”

He stared you down, stepping to you and forcing you back until your spine met the wall. “Just answer the damn question, Y/N. Is what you said to me a lie?”

“I…I’m…I don’t—” You stammered and, though tried to hold your ground, couldn’t stop yourself from looking away and to the tacky, blue carpet flooring. But Henry wasn’t having it. He crooked a finger under your chin and lifted until you had no choice other than to gaze into the ocean blue of his eyes and at the small brown island in the left one.

“Do you love me or not?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. You wanted to say something, you had to, he wouldn’t wait forever, but—

“Yes or no, Y/N.”

…He wouldn’t wait forever…

“Yes or--”

“Yes.”

In the same breath, he cupped your cheeks and put his lips on yours. Tasting him again sent shocks through every nerve of your body. It felt like your first sip of water after surviving days without; like the feeling of sunshine on your skin after being trapped so long in the darkness you lost track of time. It felt as if his kiss held inside it everything you needed to finally be free. No more denial, no more loneliness or fear, no more avoiding him because he clearly wasn’t going to let that happen for one more minute.

When you finally gave in and parted your lips for him, Henry groaned. His tongue on yours created a fire that burst inside of you and soothed the chills his touch created, and before you had time to process another thought, you were pushing him back to your bed and straddling his lap. Warm hands traveled up and down your back until the moan you made at the feeling of his hard on pressing to your core had him wrapping his arms tight around your waist. So tight, you were not sure how you could still breathe.

You sneaked your hand between your bodies and worked to unbuckle the belt around his hips, but he pulled back just as you yanked it from the loops and tossed it to the side. You searched his eyes for any reason he may have stopped you, but all you saw was love. He reached up and brushed a stray hair behind your ear, then caressed your cheek and stroked along your cheekbone with his thumb.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, eyebrows still drawn together in confusion.

Henry smiled to slightest. “I love you.”

“…Still?” You looked away from him in embarrassment. “Even after avoiding you for a month?”

“Yes, still,” He chuckled. “Even after that.”

You let out a little whimper and touched your forehead to his. “I don’t know how you could.”

“Because it’s you, baby.” He put a hand on the back of your neck and pecked your lips once, twice. “I’ve been in love with you for so long.”

You lifted your head from his and he smiled, glancing at your lips before meeting your eyes. “How long?”

“Since your brother brought you to the Fallout wrap party.”

“Henry…”

“I know. I should’ve told you a long time ago, way before last month.” With one hand, he threaded his fingers through your hair. The other started to rub up and down your thigh.

He nudged his nose against yours and before he could kiss you again, you whispered, “I love you.”

Your words made him contentedly hum from deep in his chest, then he placed his lips on yours again, your bottom one between his two. He sucked on it and softly nibbled, and you slid your hands up his chest until you could wrap your arms around his neck. Grinding your hips down forced a groan from Henry as he went for the button of his jeans.

Your lips separated for a moment so you could hike up your skirt, and before he could, you slipped your fingers inside his pants and pulled out his cock, grasping it in your warm hand. His lips parted at your touch, his eyes staring hard into yours as you lifted up, tugged your panties to the side, and started to ease yourself onto him. His cock parted your folds and stretched you so deliciously wide that the familiar string from his size had you gasping.

“Oh, God,” Henry sucked in a breath, sheathed fully inside you. “So good, sweetheart.”

You nodded, lost for words. Nothing could describe the feeling of him inside you. He filled you the way no man ever could, in more ways than one. Every hollow part of you he sated; your body, your heart, your mind, all brought to peace just by being with him. How you let your fear get in the way of this for an entire month, you couldn’t understand. But as he held you so close nothing could get between your bodies, you pushed your thoughts to the back of your mind and started to rock your hips back and forth on his lap.

----------

“That is a lot of stars,” Henry said as you laid back in the bed and stared up at your ceiling, his arms still wrapped around you. He hadn’t let you go, even for a second. From the moment you said ‘yes’ to his question, his hands remained on your body, his skin always touching yours.

“I like space.”

“I know,” He chuckled, then pulled you on top of him. You overlapped your hands on his chest and rested your chin on them.

“Oh yea?”

“Mhm. I know an awful lot about you. I’ve been paying attention for a while.”

“I know things about you, too.”

“Oh yea?” He asked, mimicking you with a smirk and an arched eyebrow.

“I know that you’re obsessed with video games, you like to cook and you’re actually good at it, you want a family, and you love Kal more than anyone.”

“Almost more than anyone.” He smiled at you and brushed a knuckle down your cheek. “Don’t tell him though.”

You giggled but continued. “I know that you are supportive and determined and you always go after what you want--”

“Like I did with you.”

“—And there is no one in the world like you. You make me feel safe…and loved.”

He leaned closer and you rose to meet his lips. “You’re all I want.”

The corners of your mouth crooked up, but a moment later they fell and you sat up in fear. “Oh, my God.”

“What?”

“We’ve been in here,” You paused to check the small alarm clock on your bedside table, “For an hour.” Standing quickly, you looked around, wildly searching for your underwear that Henry had yanked down your legs at some point and tossed to God knows where.

He hopped up and threw his shirt over his head. When you handed him his belt, he nodded and thanked you with a smile before he began to slip it through the loops.

You sighed in relief when you found the dark blue lacy panties and pulled them up your legs. “My mother is gonna lose it. I bet the only reason she hasn’t barged in here is because of Johnny.” You ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, looking for garments and hurriedly clothing yourself. When you passed in front of Henry, he grabbed your arm.

“Babe,” He said, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. “It’s fine. Everything is going to be fine.”

----------

You stepped down the stairs and casually rounded the corner into the living room as if you hadn’t just had sex twice, to see Johnny sitting in one of two brown leather armchairs, sipping his gin and tonic. Your brother smirked when he saw your somewhat disheveled appearance, with Henry behind you, one of his large hands on your hip.

“Hey, sis.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start. Where’s mom?”

He nodded his head to the couch you hadn’t bothered to glace at yet, where your mother’s body draped along it like a rag doll, a glint of drool at the corner of her mouth. “What the fuck?”

“Mom still cannot hold her booze.” He stood and watched your mother as she let out a loud snore. “Don’t worry, she didn’t hear you. She was too busy ranting about your lack of love life.” You swallowed and Johnny walked up to you. Raising one eyebrow, he looked between you and Henry, then took a gulp of the clear liquid in his glass. “The irony, huh?”

Before you could say a word, your brother slipped by you and patted Henry a few times on the shoulder. “Oh, and you’re free to go home,” Johnny called from the kitchen. “I have a feeling you’d both rather spend your night…well, not here, and I can look after our dear mother. You can thank me tomorrow.” He chuckled.

Henry looked down at you and smiled softly. “We can stay if you want.”

“Are you kidding?” You snickered. “Just give me a minute, then we can go.”

He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll go wait by the car. Tell Johnny I’ll see him Monday, yea?”

You nodded and as Henry left out the front door, you made your way down the tiled hallway that led to the kitchen. You found your brother sitting at the counter and typing on his phone with a smile.

“Margaret?” You asked.

Johnny placed his phone back on the counter and took a swig of gin straight from the bottle. “Yea.”

“How is she?”

“Good. She’s doing really well out there.” He smiled, though halfheartedly, and went for the fridge to pull out your mother’s devil’s food cake. Grabbing a fork, he walked back to the counter, put the cake in the center and dug right into the side of it. You stared as he devoured bite after bite. If it were you, you would have surely faced the wrath of the small, plump woman passed out in the next room, but Johnny ate without a care in the world. “I fucking miss her.”

You picked at a fingernail as you asked, “Is it awful…to have someone you love hours away from you for weeks at a time?” You hated to see your brother miss his girlfriend so much his insides hurt, and you had no desire to be in the same situation.

“Not as awful as it probably sounds. It would be easier with you and Henry, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He gave you an amused look that only barely masked his own pain.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he and I have to go wherever the production companies take The Witcher, but you can travel freely with your job and, believe me, he’ll take you everywhere he’s filming as long as you say yes. He also might try to superglue you to his side though, so watch out for that.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together, trying to not smile as much as your brother’s words were begging you to, then forced it down with a swallow. “Johnny…” He hummed, and when you didn’t continue, he turned his head to look at you. “Thank you. I don’t know that I would’ve talked to him again if you hadn’t brought him here. I would’ve tried to forget about it, and him.”

Johnny smirked as he poked at the cake with his fork. “Nah, Henry wouldn’t have let that happen. He’s, like, an idiot for you, but a very…determined idiot.”

“Really?”

“Oh, baby sister, you have no idea.” He rubbed up and down the side of your arm the way he used to as kids in high school when he thought you were being a little too naïve for your own good. “But I’ll tell you all about the nauseatingly, sappy whining he did over you another time.”

That was a story you were sure Henry would try to keep as far away from you as possible and the thought made you smile. The close friends he probably told, or ‘whined’ to, as your brother said, would undoubtedly have a ball trying to recount every detail just to see how red Henry’s cheeks could get.

You wrapped your arms around Johnny from the side, your head just meeting his shoulder, and squeezed. He wiggled his arm out of your tight hold to tuck you into his side then kissed your forehead.

“I love you,” You said.

“I know.”

-----------

Seeing Henry leaning against your car, patiently waiting for you, made something in your chest lighten. He didn’t seem bored or annoyed or itching to rush you along, but just content to stay in that one spot until you were ready to go. You’d never had that before: a man who didn’t force you to follow every minute of his schedule, who didn’t make you feel like you could never be an inconvenience without consequences, who didn’t hold you down by the boulder on your chest, suffocating you until you complied. It made you appreciate what it meant to be able to inhale and exhale for more than just the need to keep your body from dying. It gave you the chance to see that there are two types of breathing: There’s the breathing that keeps you alive, and there’s the breathing that keeps you sane. Henry allowed you to have both, and it took the smallest of gestures to give you that relief.

He smiled bright when he saw you striding over the front yard grass to him and took your hands in his once you were within reach. “You ready?”

You nodded and rested your head on his chest, inhaling the scent you memorized a year ago. “Yours or mine?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“If we go to yours, we can be having sex sooner. Mine’s an extra fifteen away,” You said and looked up at him.

“Mine it is.” He winked and then kissed you.

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

tags: Perm (let me know if you want on or off the list. Idk who prefers to be on what list anymore now that I have two.) @dugan365 @moonlightimagination @pietrotheavenger @marvel-fanfiction @hawkeyeharrington @dani-si @wintersoldier98 @then-there-was-me-emily @prxttybirdz @xceafh @jazzwoman897 @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999 @ufffg @debra77 @rebelliouscat @anise-d-castle6 @projectxhappiness @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @lowkeysebby @quotemeow @notmyfault404 @jjamesbbarness @guera31 @sophiatomlinson23 @thisismysecrethappyplace @hiddles-rose @vibhati123 @mywinterwolf @picapicapicassobaby @lokilvrr @sunshine-seven @agniavateira

2K notes · View notes

alwaysfeelingsaintlike · 4 years

Text

Depart&Return [G.W]

Description: George tells you that he’s leaving Hogwarts, but that doesn’t mean he won’t sneak back in to visit you.

Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor fem!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: slight sexual content

“No…no you can’t do this to me,” you said, holding back tears.

“Y/N, it’ll be okay. I promise. We’ll find a way to see each other.”

“I’m coming with you then.”

“I can’t let you do that. If you want to become a healer, you need to take your N.E.W.T’s.”

“I don’t care about that. I just want to be with you.”

“Y/N,” he pleaded, “you need to stay and finish school. I don’t want you regretting your decision to leave. I want you to be successful.”

“George, please don’t. I…I don’t think I can survive without you,” you were crying now. He had completely blindsided you.

“Come on now. You don’t need me,” he said. You shook your head as a tear fell down your cheek.

“It’ll only be a few months and then you’ll be done school and you can come be with me,” George said.

“A few months? I have over a year left.”

“It won’t be that bad. Maybe you can take your N.E.W.T.s a year early.”

“I don’t think that will be a possibility,” you responded.

“Talk to McGonagall about it. You’ll never know if you don’t ask. I’m sure she will do everything she can to help you out,” he said, gently rubbing away the tear on your cheek with his thumb.

You gave him a small nod and said, “Promise that you’ll write to me everyday?”

“Of course I’ll write to you darling. And I’ll use the floo network and we can meet up for butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks any time you like. Oh, that reminds me. I have something for you,” he paused and rifled through his pack until he pulled out what appeared to be a piece of parchment. It took you a moment to realize what it was.

You gasped, “No…the map?”

“I don’t really have too much use for it now. Besides if you’re going to sneak out and see me, you’ll need this,” he smiled. As much as you had been positively influencing George ever so slightly, he’d been wearing off on you too. In all honesty, you probably didn’t need the map to sneak out. You’d gotten really good at it. But you took it anyway. It could come in handy. You didn’t know if this small gesture changed your viewpoint, but you realized things would be okay now. This way you could focus on your studies so that you could get the job you’d always wanted. You admired Fred and George for leaving and starting their own business. You had no doubts about their success. They’d been doing this stuff for years.

“Darling, please don’t cry. I promise everything will be okay,” he said.

“I know, I know. I just can’t help but be upset.” He pulled you close to him and held you for a moment. It was hard not to cry. You tried to keep it to a minimum but it hurt thinking there was a chance you could lose him forever. What if he met someone else? Thinking about that only made things worse so you tried to erase the image from your head, which proved to be pretty difficult.

George ran his fingers through your hair and brushed his hands up and down your back, trying to calm you down.

“I love you Y/N.”

You looked up into his eyes and just smiled.

“What did you say?” you grinned.

A sly smile spread across his face, “I love you.”

You put your hand on his cheek and pulled his face down to yours. You kissed him so deeply and passionately that your knees went weak. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he put his hand around your waist. The next thing you knew, he leaned you back into a dip while you were still kissing. You smiled, breaking your kiss and his face hovered just above yours for a moment. “I love you too,” you smiled.

Here it was, the moment you’d been waiting for. The moment that determined if you’d wasted 6 years or if you’d be successful. Essentially, your fate was sealed in this little envelope. You couldn’t open it in the common room. You wanted this moment for yourself. You didn’t need others there to see your reaction. You scurried off to your room and began to feel nervous yet excited at the same time.

It had been a rough couple of months. After begging and pleading with Professor McGonagall she finally agreed to let you take your N.E.W.T.’s a year early. But she told you it would be very difficult since most students had the whole year to prepare and you only had a few months. You were fine with that though, whatever got you out of school earlier. You still weren’t even sure how you were still functioning as a human. You had buried yourself in schoolwork to distract from the pain of being away from George. But you always found time to answer his letters. You managed to spend a few weekends at Hogsmeade with Hermione, but most of the time it was so that you could sneak away and spend an hour or two with George. Without him, you didn’t feel like yourself. It was like a part of you was missing and you didn’t like that feeling.

You opened the door to your room and dropped all your things on the floor. You leaned against the shut door and opened the envelope. Before you unfolded the parchment, you mentally prepared for the potentially negative information that could be in the envelope, but you were too eager to wait any longer.

You skimmed through the standard paragraph at the top that was a necessity for almost all Hogwarts documents. In order to become a healer, it was necessary to receive at least exceeds expectations in the following categories: Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions.

ARITHMANCY: Outstanding – Septima Vector

CHARMS: Outstanding – Filius Flitwick

DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS: Exceeds Expectations – Delores Umbridge

HERBOLOGY: Outstanding – Pomona Sprout

POTIONS: Exceeds Expectations – Severus Snape

TRANSFIGURATION: Outstanding – Minerva McGonagall

“Merlin’s beard…I did it. I actually did it!” You excitedly whispered to yourself.

“Was there ever any doubt?” someone said. You looked up for the first time upon entering your room and noticed your favorite ginger sitting on your bed with a sly smile on his face. “Hey stranger,” he said.

“George!” You said before tackling him with a hug. “What are you doing here!?!” You asked after a few kisses.

“Well, I had to come and celebrate with you!”

“I’m so happy you’re here. This is seriously the best day ever.”

“And it’s about to get even better,” he commented.

“What?” you said perking up. You looked at him questioningly and he couldn’t fight back that adorable smile.

“I spoke to my Great Aunt Muriel…”

“Why? Isn’t she awful?”

“Let me finish.”

“Sorry…continue.”

“I spoke with her because she’s on the board at St. Mungo’s. I mentioned that you were hoping to get a position there and she read over your records. Your N.E.W.T. scores were on there, as well as your marks for school and it all looks pretty impressive. And she said she could get you an interview.”

“You did that for me?”

“I’d do anything for you,” he said. You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed him tight. “Thank you so much, George. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I just want to make you happy,” he smiled at you.

“Being with you makes me happy.” You leaned in to kiss him again.

“What are the chances we’ll be alone in here for a little while?” he asked in between kisses.

“Well it’s risky. I don’t know when they’ll be back…” you sighed, disappointed.

George smiled, “I’ve got a better idea…”

He took your hand and pulled you off the bed with ease. You darted into the common room before you realized no one else could know George was there.

“Wait, George. We can’t let anyone see you here. I just…I don’t want anything bad to happen to you or the business or anything.”

He nodded, knowing you were right and you told him he needed to be sneakier once you left this safe haven.

You popped your head outside the portrait hole and scanned the hallway. Not a student or teacher in sight. George jumped out in front of you and took your hand. You still weren’t sure where you were going. After turning a corner, a door appeared in front of you. That’s when you understood where your destination was: the Room of Requirement.

Before he opened the door, he looked at you and said, “You’re sure you want to do this?” In response, you nodded excitedly and smiled at him.

He opened the door and the room was breathtaking. It was comparable to a suite at a five star hotel. There were pink rose petals scattered along the floor and floating candles all around the room. A huge king sized bed was featured in the center of the room and there were two cozy armchairs and a bar cart in the corner. The lighting was dim but it gave the room the proper mood for the occasion. The bathroom was lavish with a shower and a Jacuzzi tub. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

“Wish I could say I arranged all of this,” George said, “but the room has a mind of its own.”

“It’s perfect,” you smiled at him. He scooped you up and carried you over to the bed. You held his face in your hands and kissed him passionately. It was so hard being away from him. George was on your mind every minute of every day. But now he was here and for one night you had him all to yourself.

“You know, it’s funny because this isn’t how I pictured this moment. But it’s still perfect because I’m with you,” he whispered in your ear. He then moved his mouth onto your neck and began kissing your soft skin. He knew you loved being kissed on the neck and when he moved up to gently tug on your ear with his teeth, it drove you wild. You took his hand and guided him onto the bed, holding eye contact with him the entire time.

“I’m sorry I’m not wearing something sexier. Can’t say I was expecting this to happen.”

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, you know you are the most beautiful girl in the world to me. I don’t need you to dress in expensive lingerie just to impress me. You are sexy when you are the cute and humble human being that you are.” His statement made you swoon. You were even more certain this was the right decision to make. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he loved you.

“I love you Georgie,” You whispered to him before kissing him softly on the lips.

“I love you more than anything in the world,” he replied.

You were extremely nervous for your first time, but also excited. More than anything, you were just happy to spend some quality time with George. “Where should we start?” George whispered, “The bed, the chair, the shower, the Jacuzzi…?” You didn’t realize you had so many options. You figured it would be best to keep it simple to start. You could expand your horizons later in the evening.

“I’m happy here…for now,” you smiled at him. George was basically twitching in anticipation. You decided to tease him a little bit. You pulled away for a moment and took time to take off your riding boots and socks.

“It’s just a little toasty in here,” you smirked at him. He gave you a curious look. You slid off your leggings to reveal sky blue, lace boy shorts. George was clearly enjoying the view as he made himself more comfortable on the bed. You slowly pulled at the bottom of your sweater and shyly bit your lip. George didn’t say anything but the look in his eyes said it all. You swiftly pulled the sweater over your head and stood half naked in front of him. George took this moment to remove his shirt; you couldn’t tear your eyes from his torso. It was perfectly chiseled, but not too bulky. You climbed onto the bed and crawled on top of George. You kissed his chest and slowly worked your way up toward his neck. He put his hands around you and started gently rubbing your back. His sighs and moans only made you giggle. Soon he flipped you onto your back, moving on top of you. Your kissing became more intimate and more intense. George pinned your arms up above your head and you found yourself very turned on by his dominance over you. George eased up on his grip and freed your hands and you started unbuttoning his jeans. Seconds later he was wearing only his boxer briefs and you wrapped your hands around his neck. He started kissing your neck again and this time you were the one doing the moaning. You decided it was time to step things up; you pulled at the sheets and you both went under the covers where the festivities continued.

“Well that was fun,” you smiled at George. You were resting your head on his bare chest and he had his arm around you and was stroking your hair.

“Indeed it was. You still love me, right?” he asked.

You propped yourself up and looked at him. “Of course I still love you.”

“Okay good. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t using me for sex,” he joked. You smacked his chest and laughed with him.

“Can we just stay here forever?” you asked him.

“Well I mean we could…or we could go make good use of the Jacuzzi…”

You gave him a mischievous look, accompanied with a grin, before you kissed him on the cheek and slid out of bed. You sauntered over to the bathroom and started up the tub. You poked your head out of the doorway and looked at George. “You coming? Or am I using this myself?” After that it didn’t take long for George to hop out of bed and join you.

“George, did you know this was going to happen tonight?” you asked him. The two of you had finally retired to the bed and were cuddling, about to fall asleep.

“Of course I wanted it to happen, but I wasn’t planning on it happening. I didn’t know how you felt about it and I didn’t want to pressure you.”

“Well you didn’t. I just wish we could spend every night together like this.”

“Who says we can’t?” he replied.

“What are you scheming…?”

“Scheming? I prefer the term planning.”

“Oh please, those words mean the same thing to you. But tell me what you’re thinking.”

“It’s simple, you move in with me.”

“Really? Is that an actual offer?”

“Of course it is. But, as you know, moving in with me entails moving in with Fred and his lady friend. I do hope you’ll say yes though, because I’m tired of being the third wheel.”

“I suppose I could relieve you of your third wheel responsibilities.”

“Oh is that all?”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad seeing your smiling face everyday,” you teased further.

“So it’s settled then. I’ll start moving things around to give you space for your stuff. Which basically means I’ll be cleaning out my closet.”

“Oh come on, I don’t have that much stuff.”

“Yeah but you will because I plan on spoiling you and buying you everything your heart desires.”

“How did I get so lucky?”

“You’ve always been lucky,” he stated.

“Do you ever just think about how we got here?”

“All the time. I think about how thankful I was that you helped me with that essay. And things just fell into place perfectly. You know, Fred always thought we’d end up together.”

“Did he?”

“Yeah, when we were younger he would always tease me about it. I never actually told him I liked you, but he just knew. And he knew how to press my buttons about it. Of course back then I just thought it was a lost cause and I didn’t have a chance in hell.”

“Did you ever think we’d be together?” you asked.

“I hoped we would. As I got older I started seeing us together more. But we also didn’t spend a lot of time together so it was still more of a fantasy.”

“When I was real little, like before Hogwarts, I always thought we were gonna get married. It wasn’t even because I had a crush on you either. Or maybe I did have a crush on you but I just didn’t know it. Regardless, I’m happy being with you. And no matter what happens between us, you’ll always be my first love.”

“You’ll be my first and last,” he responded. “I intend on being with you forever.”

You looked at him lovingly and kissed him softly on the lips. “I’d like that,” you responded. You cuddled up even closer to George, if that was possible, and you both started to doze off. His warm chest was under your head and his heartbeat slowly lulled you to sleep.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #fred weasley #weasley twins #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley x fem!reader #fred and george weasley #george weasley fanfic #weasley twins fanfic #george weasley one shot #hp fanfic

158 notes · View notes

postmodernbeing · 3 years

Text

Shingeki no Kyojin Headcanons: Paradis Soldiers, drunk edition

Hello, Postmodernbeing here. So, I have been re-reading SnK manga due its 4th and final season. And chapter 123 really inspired me into writing this headcanons. I wrote them thinking in some Morden AU, but I believe that they could easily work for the canon universe. I hope you like this as much as I did.

IMPORTANT: I kept some canon elements that I read in a few posts from interviews to Isayama. // For obvious reasons, all the characters are 18+. // I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin. // This post does not exhorts the abuse of harmful substances such as alcohol. // English is not my first language, so I appreciate your patience.

Eren Jaeger

Isayama himself has mentioned that Eren has a high tolerance to alcohol. I'd like to respect that fact (although I'm not 100% sure about that since I read it somewhere around internet). I do imagine that Eren is the friend that ends up taking care of everyone when they're totally wasted, but he also finds the time to have fun and drink because he doesn’t really like watching over every single one of his friends or counting all the shots that they take.

His behavior doesn’t really change a lot when wasted. I picture that he might speak a bit higher than usual due the deafening effect of music and alcohol. Also, he takes a bit of time before replying a question, etc.

Apart from that, do not expect him to dance like crazy over some table. He would agree to some karaoke, though. Or even to compete in a videogame/party game if Jean challenges him enough. Usually, Eren likes to keep his cool and watch everyone have a good time. Eren’s a simple man.

In some AU, he would be the designated driver if no one else offers (cough Armin cough), or in case that all his friends are totally wasted. Eren also makes sure that his pals arrive home safely before turning the engine again (so thoughtful, aw). In case that everyone takes a taxi or some uber, Eren would ask them to send a message to their group chat before going to bed just so he’s sure everyone is safe. Even if he knows some of them will forget or fall asleep immediately after arriving home.

Mikasa Ackerman

This girl rarely gets drunk, let me tell you. And not because she doesn’t drink, she drinks a lot. Mostly because she follows Sasha into all she dares her: beerpong, shots, you name it. Even though, Mikasa prefers traditional beer, she’s into trying new things such as different tastes and alcohol levels (she’s fearless). I do imagine that Mikasa realizes she’s drunk when tries to stand from anywhere she was sitting, rather for going to the kitchen for a glass of water or to the toilet (she knows drinking water is important in order to keep her body hydrated and avoid hangover).

First thing she notices, besides the dizziness, is her face utterly blushed. She smiles almost immediately, Mikasa is more open with her body language albeit her use of words remains limited. She knows how to stay rational.

She’ll never admit how much she enjoys being invited by Sasha to have some drinks. Mikasa’s happy that she’s able to be her partner in beerpong, even if Sasha makes her lose from time to time. Her favorite game secretly is “Never have I ever…” because all her friends end up sharing too much, or some truly funny anecdotes that feed her little laugh (please, protect smiley Mikasa).

Mikasa has been designated driver only a couple of times since she keeps falling asleep after getting wasted. Nevertheless, she never fails into leaving a good night message to her friends when arriving home. Mikasa thinks that’s the perfect way to thank the squad for the great moments they shared.

Like Eren, she prefers casual reunions or stay-in-home parties. But if she’s noticed that the rest will attend to some bar/club she’d rather be there, protecting them (just a little before passing out too).

Armin Arlert

How do I say this politely? Please, keep him away from alcohol. He gets so drunk, so fast it’s almost funny. Definitely, he starts feeling a bit sleepy because he feels so relaxed. But if Armin keeps drinking sure thing, he’ll start feeling more energetic and perky. He’s the first one that gets into the karaoke thing, although he likes to share stories from the books he reads too, Eren is the one that listens to him with the most attention (and soberness).

Armin also laughs a lot being drunk, you could tell him any nonsense and he’ll burst out laughing. Sometimes he also tries to make jokes but fails funnily enough, he can’t make one coherent sentence. That’s a good sign most of the times, for he’s reaching his limits and his friends cut his consumption (which it’s really not that much).

That’s why it’s common that Armin offers himself as designated driver those nights that he might had a beer or two. He’s very responsible when he acknowledges there won’t be a chance to stay the night (for they are partying at a club or a stranger’s house). Armin is used to take his friends till their front door, he might be small, but he wants to be sure everyone will be alright and safe.

Against all odds, he enjoys a bit more of pubs since he became with time, less aloof than his childhood friends. Although, he’s not that meticulous with the remedies against hangover. Giving him the result of headaches for the next 24 hours at least.

Jean Kirstein

Jean has a higher alcohol tolerance, and he even tries to avoid excess of said substances. However, he always fails colossally 80% of occasions. He’s not precisely awkward or a bad drinker, but it’s definitely hard to keep up with his energy and enthusiasm when he’s drunk. Jean’s not the most responsible drinker neither but he manages to stay rational enough. One could say that he becomes more reckless with what he does and says.

…Such as climbing up a table and dancing like crazy. He would absolutely spend most of the night dancing and he’s not bad actually. The thing is, that his ability comes from the drunk effect rather than actual skill. When there’s no music to be heard, he likes to organize the games with Sasha and Connie. Jean also yells a lot more, and he doesn’t admit it but he runs out of patience faster if his friends aren’t excited to follow the flow of the games (we know he refers to Eren most of the times).

Therewith, he keeps his cool and sincere attitude. His friends know that Jean doesn’t need to be drunk to be open and honest, so they trust in his drunken words too. Which leads us to the next point, Jean loves bigger and more elaborated parties. But only because he knows all his friends could engage in activities that they actually enjoy. From screaming and running to keeping it quiet in a sofa.

He doesn’t worry easily, but if someone asks him to take care of them, he will offer his help without trouble (those are the 20% remaining of occasions in which he doesn’t get that drunk). Jean got the designated driver role only one time, for his friends decided that he sucked at following the GPS and spend too much time taking ‘shortcuts’ every three blocks. It would take the rest of the night trying to get to their homes.

Sasha Braus

Like Jean, Sasha has a medium tolerance to alcoholic beverages, but she tends to mess that up when stuffing her mouth with snacks and junk food. She insists in eating before drinking (and after too), so it’s not unusual to watch her running into the bathroom at the middle of the night because of nausea. To everyone's surprise, she has a wide knowledge of different drinks. From the best wines and its respective cuts of meats, to the strangest (and cheapest) mixtures for the sole purpose of getting wasted.

Even in sober state Sasha isn’t shy at all. So, beware for she’s the mastermind behind the party games. Sasha always promises tranquil reunions but deep down everyone knows shit’s getting down every-single-time. She knows the basic games such as beerpong, “never have I ever”, “truth or dare”, and she has a talent at asking the most awkward questions. But her real potential reveals when she dares her friends into weird and dangerous challenges.

Sasha definitely becomes more direct and energetic. She has let her real accent show a few times before and even if she gets a bit embarrassed she’s too drunk to care (Mikasa is the first one that shuts their mouths if they try to make fun of her, canon of they being the best friends ever, yay).

She loves to dance and sing, making a disaster of the house/club they’re partying at. Connie tries to calm her down before anyone else, but fails because just like her, he’s delighted with the jokes and pranks they pull together. Sasha knows that Connie stays close to her in case she’s feeling more dizzy than usual and she’s forever thankful for that. Lastly, she has never offered herself into that designated driver role, and that’s what her friends are thankful for. So, everything’s reciprocal, one could say.

Connie Springer

Connie has just a bit more of tolerance to alcohol. It’s common that Sasha, Jean, and Connie end up drunk at the same time. They laugh when they realize this. The first signal into Connie’s drunk state is him talking about everything that passes through his mind, from conspiracy theories to the most absurd yet profound questions. And finishes his quasi rational speech with bad jokes, although he doesn’t really need alcohol to tell them.

He promises himself every single time that he’ll take care of Sasha but ends up following her into all her dares and extreme games (some of them almost illegal). Connie is the first person than anyone runs to if they want to throw a bigger party. He feels flattered to this, he’s truly popular and a great company to anyone. Seems obvious at this point, but I'll say it anyway: Connie really enjoys club parties.

I already mentioned that Connie gets along with anything that Sasha comes up with. But Connie himself has a repertoire of anecdotes and pranks. He can recommend you the best pubs and the cheapest (and interesting) clubs. He doesn’t admit it, but this also strokes his ego. Maybe he does have some genius in him, at least for these topics.

Connie is also the most chaotic drunk, all he does (or tries to) is funny. He has the craziest anecdotes. Like that time when his friends found him asking for directions to a public trash can, or that one night when he had a fight with Jean because he didn’t accede to shave his head to match with Connie’s. Or Sasha’s favorite, she’d dared him into smelling Eren’s arse for some bet they had about his smell. Mikasa was not happy.

Sincerely, this boy brings life into the parties if he desires so. Howbeit, he got his friends’ backs if they have a problem with aggressive drunken guys. Connie has jumped into fights just so he protects his friends (Armin, more than anyone else due his big-smart mouth). Truth to be told, Connie fights quite good when drunk. His protective side is a wonder, y’all give him lots of love.

95 notes · View notes

renaerys · 3 years

Text

PPG One-Shot: A Balmy Tuesday in Hell

Taking a break from the prompt requests to wish a very happy birthday to @snailbutters! Tbh I like this idea a lot and I’m tempted to expand on it more. Cross posted on AO3.

xxx

When Mike went looking for a part-time job to earn some spending money, he had a hard time finding one that worked around his college class schedule. All the good on-campus jobs were taken, and most of the ones he found offsite required him to be up way too early or way too late with very little flexibility.

The front desk position at the Beelzebob, a local hair salon advertising an array of “wicked styles” for any occasion, was not the most glamorous position, but it welcomed part timers and offered flexible schedules to be discussed on a case by case basis. It was at the tail end of a long week of job hunting with little to show for it, and Mike was tired. Still, he dragged himself all the way there after his three-hour Friday seminar and put on his best retail charm for the interview.

One of the stylists told him to wait in the lobby while she grabbed the manager for his interview, and so Mike sat in a plush, purple chair and eyed the stack of magazines on the coffee table—HJi, Professional Beauty, NHF, and others he recognized from Googling “how to work at a hair salon” last night. A playlist that seemed to consist entirely of K-pop pumped ripples of bubblegum bass through the speakers and had Mike tapping his fingers on his hip. There was no one behind the sleek, glass reception desk, so Mike got up and wandered over to it. He tried to imagine himself with the headset on, fielding phone calls and helping customers pick out one of the many luxury hair products on the walls behind the desk. He touched his own brown hair—plain and getting a bit long, but styled with a little wax for the day—and worried about whether he should have tried a bit harder for this interview. Would he be judged on his own hair? That seemed reasonable enough—

“This simply won’t do.”

Mike startled at the lyrical voice and turned around to find a seven-foot, red-skinned demon in Lululemons appraising him over an enterprising nose. Which would have been a cause for mild to moderate alarm even in Metroville—a hub for lowlifes, Supervillains, and the occasional monster on a mission out of Townsville farther north—except that Mike recognized this particular demon. At which point he got the pun in the name of this place and smiled.

“Him,” he squeaked. And then, remembering his high school retail training: “I mean, Mr. Him.”

Him—Prince of Pestilence, Duke of Depravity, Earl of Evil, et cetera—blushed the color of an open wound. “You’re house trained, I see. All right, this way.”

Him turned on his Louboutin heel and headed into the salon. Mike hurried after Him, unsure whether this was good or bad. Him led him to a styling chair and sat him down. A purple salon cape made its way around Mike’s neck with a flamenco flourish, and Him leaned over his head in the reflection.

“What are we thinking?”

Mike eyed his potential future employer from perfectly curled goatee to artificial mink lashes and hesitated.

This is a test.

It had to be. Surely, anyone manning the phones had to know something about haircare in general. If he was to be the vanguard, the watcher on the Wall, he would have to be able to alert his colleagues of the incoming threats and answer questions about how to fend off anything from tangles to split ends. Mike tried to remember the last time he got a haircut; Boomer had been with him, his eye far more discerning than Mike’s.

“Comb over,” Mike said.

“Quiff?”

“More faux hawk.” He tried not to think of the heat on the back of his neck, and instead of the sly grin on Boomer’s face the last time he’d been under the scissors. “With a low fade. Um, please.”

Him’s fangs gleamed when he grinned. “Good choice.”

For a demon with claws the size of dinner plates, Him was surprisingly adroit and precise to a literal razor’s edge. In fact, Mike was certain Him must sharpen his claws to get them sharp enough to shave the hair from the nape of his neck, which seemed like a sensible time-saver. Blackpink’s Pretty Savage blared over the speaker as Him coifed and styled the thicker locks that remained on top of Mike’s head, combed to the left in enviable, anti-gravity perfection.

“Wow.” He touched the side of his head, marveling at the close but generous cut and the perfect blend. “This has to be the best haircut I’ve ever gotten.”

He got up and removed the cape, only to find Him with a broom in his claw. “I run a clean salon, Michael.”

Mike accepted the broom without question. “Yes, sir.”

Him preened. “Good lad.”

“Does… Does this mean I got the job?”

Him flipped his claw. “There will be a trial period. You young people are so used to texting that I’ll have to determine if you’re fit to answer a phone. But, considering your manners, I have a good feeling about you.”

Amazing! “Thank you so much! When do I start?”

“Honey, you’re already late. I have customers waiting.” Him snapped his claw. “Chop chop.”

Mike swept up his shorn hair and the hair around the chair next to his, dumped it all in a bin labeled “Hair,” and ran to the front desk to answer the phone ringing off the hook. The stylist who’d greeted him, Marisol, helped him with the computer login so he could manage appointments and checkout. It was easy enough, a Square card reader and a cash register and a huge logbook of every sale.

“Middle finger up, F-U, pay me,” Mike whisper-rapped along with Lisa.

A couple hours later, Him handed him a check for the time worked and told him to be back here tomorrow at 3 p.m. Mike accepted the check, but he didn’t pocket it.

“Sir, I should tell you for the sake of full disclosure.”

Him peered down at him with his claws on his hips. “Oh?”

This should not be so hard.

“I’m, well, I’m involved. With your son. Boomer.”

Him clicked his claw, and Mike held his breath.

Boomer had spoken about Him—Baron of Brutality, King of Chaos, Emperor of Enmity et cetera—on just a few occasions throughout their acquaintance. Raising souls from the dead was a hobby of Him’s, apparently, but often his necromantic offspring ended up rotting and were no fit candidates to promenade in civilized society that wasn’t eternally damned and burning. Chemical X cut out that inconvenience, and thus the perfect little boys were reborn, or something. According to Boomer, Him was evil on Sundays, a prolific genius on Tuesdays, and crocheting with his kobolds on Fridays. The rest of the time he was just a normal demon trying to survive in this capitalist post-modern society like everybody else. Anyway, Sunday wasn’t in Mike’s work schedule, so that seemed safe enough.

“I know,” Him said. “You don’t expect me to believe you’d Googled the most flattering hairstyle for your bone structure without help, do you?”

Mike was pretty sure there was a compliment in there, even if it wasn’t for him. “I guess not.”

Him beamed. “Don’t worry. I would never let my favorite son’s romantic life influence the culture at Beelzebob. You’ll be judged before an impartial tribunal of incubi, like everybody else. Now, before you go, I’d like you to dispose of the waste, please.”

Mike learned the value of separating trash that day. Discarded receipts and candy wrappers dumped in the waste bin went into the trash, lunch leftovers went to compost, and cut hair went to sacrificial offerings.

“Sacrifices reduce our carbon footprint and offer protection against flat Earthers. It’s a proven science, you know.”

Mike supposed it would be poor manners to argue with an ancient evil on his crochet day.

xxx

Boomer was all sly smiles and discreet hand touches when Mike treated him to dinner at their favorite Thai place later that week.

“So, your job seems to be paying well,” he said.

“Well enough to take my boyfriend out to a nice dinner now and then.”

“Careful. Spend too much time with Him and your tastes will get really expensive.”

Mike laughed. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll switch majors to cosmetology and join the family business.”

“You know what? He’d probably love that. He tried so hard to get Brick to follow in his footsteps, but Mojo let him mess around on his E-Shares account once when we were eleven and Brick was lost to the finance track forever. I’m pretty sure Mojo did it on purpose.” Boomer leaned in and clinked his wine glass to Mike’s. “Anyway, buy me this dinner before you jump to joining the family business.”

Mike flushed. “I’m—I didn’t—”

Boomer laughed. “Chill! I’m just messing with you.”

The playlist at the restaurant began playing Blackpink’s Kill This Love, and Mike burst out laughing.

“What?” Boomer asked. “You like this song? You know, Him is really big into K-pop lately. Butch thinks someone must have sold a bunch of souls and made a killing.”

“I know.” Mike kissed Boomer’s hand. “It’s just funny how things work out.”

Boomer smiled. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

Their food arrived, and Mike happily ate his meal across from Boomer. And in the back of his mind, he said a little thank-you to Him and whatever chaotic forces he controlled for reviving Boomer all those years ago.

It must have been a balmy Tuesday in Hell.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #boomike #ppg boomer #mike believe #ppg him

13 notes · View notes

mercuryonparklane · 3 years

Text

Since Taylor released “You All Over Me” last night and also posted the “Love Story” remix lyric video that includes a group picture with Emily in it, I am reposting this from my other blog (because at the time I posted it my other blog was too new to show up in the tags). I’m not necessarily saying that YAOM is about Emily...

Anyway, here is a post about “Breathe” and how it is the only Grammy nominated song of Taylor’s that she has performed just once:

Prior to Lover Taylor had 9 Grammy nominated songs (that appeared on her own records): “You Belong With Me”. “White Horse”, “Breathe”, “Mean”, “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together”, “Begin Again”, “Shake It Off”, “Blank Space”, and “Bad Blood”.

According to Taylor herself, despite multiple requests from fans over the years, she has only sung “Breathe” live one time. She performed it for the first and, so far, only time on August 18, 2018 during her reputation Stadium Tour show in Miami.

I decided to compare this to how many times she has sung her other Grammy nominated songs (I chose not to include anything from Lover or folklore because she obviously hasn’t had the opportunity to perform those songs as she normally would):

(Disclaimer: the data related to the number of times Taylor has played each song comes from setlist.fm, so it may not be 100% accurate, but it is close enough to demonstrate the purpose of this post)

“Breathe”

Date of release (as a single): October 23, 2008

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 1

“White Horse”:

Date of release (as a single): December 9, 2008

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 137

“You Belong With Me”

Date of release (as a single): April 26, 2009

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 381

“Mean”

Date of release (as a single): March 13, 2011

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 196

“We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together”

Date of release (as a single): August 13, 2012

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 272 (that # includes 1 time she performed the song as a mashup with “Bad Blood” and 53 times as a mashup with “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things”)

“Begin Again”

Date of release (as a single): October 1, 2012

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 75

“Shake It Off”

Date of release (as a single): August 18, 2014

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 189

“Blank Space”

Date of release (as a single): November 10, 2014

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 166

“Bad Blood”

Date of release (as a single): May 17, 2015

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 141 (that # includes the 53 times she performed the song as a mashup with “Should’ve Said No”)

As you can see, there is a pretty glaring disparity between the number of times she performed the other 8 songs live compared to the 1 time she performed “Breathe” live.

The song was released as a promotional single in the lead up to the release of Fearless, but wasn’t really a main single. It never had a music video, which means that it was probably never meant to be pushed for the charts. Although, it did spend one week on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, peaking at #87 on the week ending November 29, 2008, following the release of Fearless.

The song was co-written with Colbie Caillat, who also features on the track. Colbie was fairly popular at the time, in particular her debut single “Bubbly” had been very successful the previous year. So, you might think Taylor’s team/label would have wanted to push this song a bit more, but for some reason they didn’t.

The song seemed to be received well by critics too. There were obviously plenty of people who thought the song was good enough to earn a Grammy nomination. Although, it did end up losing to Colbie’s other, more commercially successful collaboration (“Lucky” with Jason Mraz).

So, it has been established that the song was released as a promotional single, it was nominated for a Grammy, and it was a collaboration with a popular (at the time) artist. These three factors combined might make someone wonder why she didn’t perform this song live until almost 10 years after its release. Just to reiterate, Taylor performed “Begin Again”, the song she performed second least out of this list, 75 times compared to the 1 and only time she performed “Breathe” in 2018.

This brings me back to the point that all of these other songs have a music video and were pushed as singles, whereas “Breathe” was only a promotional single and never had a music video.

Perhaps it would be fairer compare “Breathe” with the other promotional single Taylor released in the lead up to Fearless (I am excluding “Change” because it does have a music video and was used during the 2008 Olympics):

“You’re Not Sorry”

Date of release (as a single): October 28, 2008

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 124

Yes, that’s right. Taylor has performed “You’re Not Sorry”, a song that got about the same amount of promotion as “Breathe”, well over 100 times.

Fearless was Taylor’s sophomore album and it was her first tour as a headliner. She had two albums worth of songs, plus a handful of others, to choose from. “Breathe” did not make the setlist. The only other song from Fearless that was not a part of the main setlist for that tour was “The Best Day”, a song that she performed live 6 times between 2009 and 2018, including twice during the Fearless Tour.

So, “Breathe”, again, was:

co-written by and features an artist who was popular at the time

released as a promotional single

nominated for a Grammy

never performed live before August 18, 2018

Which begs the question, why did she wait so long to perform the song live?

It has pretty much been established that the song is about Taylor’s original fiddle player, Emily. Taylor has never named names on this one, but most Swifties, even non-Gaylors, think the song is about her. Colbie Caillat basically confirmed this longtime fan theory in an April 2020 interview, where she says that Taylor “was writing about something she was going through with a band member at the time, and she was pouring her heart out about it”.

Taylor did say in the “making of” video for “Breathe” that the song is about a friend:

“It was total therapy because I came in and I was like, ‘Look, you know, one of my best friends, you know, I’m gonna have to not see anymore and is not gonna be part of what I do and it’s, like, the hardest thing to go through.’ It’s, like, crazy listening to the song cause you’d think it would be about a relationship, but it’s really about, like, losing a friend and, like, having a fallout and just the loss…”

She also adds:

“It’s never specific as to why. That’s my favorite thing about it. It doesn’t talk about why or whose fault it was cause sometimes the hardest time and way to say goodbye is when it’s nobody’s fault. It just has to stop.”

But, again, I’m pretty sure that Taylor herself has never said that it was about Emily. The official story is that Emily left the band to attend law school, but there is a rumor that she was actually fired. More specifically, the rumor is that she was fired when the true nature of their relationship was discovered.

This is all old news to Gaylors, of course. I said in my first post for this blog that I would not go too far into this theory due to the fact that Emily was 21 when she was hired and Taylor was only 16 at that time. I do think it is possible that Taylor had strong feelings towards Emily and maybe those feelings were unrequited or maybe they were reciprocated. Either way, perhaps someone found out somehow and the fallout was Emily getting fired.

It is also not improbable that Emily decided that she didn’t really like being on the road or the business side of being a professional musician and wanted to pursue a different career. If that was the case, then I do wonder why Taylor felt the need to repeatedly sing “I’m sorry” at the end of “Breathe”.

The only thing that would make sense, other than a potential firing that Taylor somehow felt responsible for, is that they had a fight when Emily broke the news to Taylor that she was going to leave the band. Hence, Taylor feeling the need to apologize so profusely.

Even if that is the case (here is where I project a bit/draw from my own experience), it still seems, to me, like Taylor felt a deep connection to Emily that might have blurred the line between platonic and romantic feelings. Maybe Emily is the first woman that she had those feelings for (ignoring “Angelina” and “Me And Britney” for this point) and so when she left it hit her really hard. Thus, she couldn’t bear to sing about it, even by the time the Fearless Tour started almost a year and half later.

That is all speculation, of course. Still, I can’t help but wonder why she would let almost an entire decade go by before she decided to sing a literal Grammy nominated song on stage for the first time. Especially considering the fact that she has performed all of her other Grammy nominated songs well over 100 times, aside from “Begin Again” (which she has still performed 74 times more than “Breathe”).

#taymily #gaylor #gaylor swift

47 notes · View notes

yahboobeh · 4 years

Text

When the Clock Strikes Midnight

Happy New Year everyone! Here’s my NejiTen discord server Secret Santa fic for @giada-luna! FF.net | AO3

There were very few things to do at the hospital, and Neji could count them all on one hand. He thought he would have been used to it by now. He had spent most of the past two months in and out of the hospital between checkups and surgeries as his body slowly recovered from the multiple impalings that should have killed him.

He mostly slept, breaking apart the cycle of visits from nurses and loved ones with groggy drug-induced naps. However, four days post-op meant his pain medication was replaced with something less addictive, making even napping a difficult way to adequately pass the time. Hinata insisted that Neji packed a book, but he’d made short work of that the first day the nurse had removed his IV (and, by extension, his pain medication). The tv on the wall was only good for the white noise, and even meditating was starting to feel monotonous.

Luckily, tonight was his last night in the hospital, recovering from what was hopefully his final surgery. It was also New Year’s Eve.

As if on cue, Tenten was there, pushing the door to his room open, sporting a pink and white quiapo and smile on her lips.

“Oh good, you’re awake!”

He nodded and watched Tenten close the door and cross the room to the side of his bed.

“New dress?”

Her face reddened as if she hadn’t expected him to notice, much less comment on it.

“Yeah, new year, new me?” She chuckled awkwardly. “What do you think?”

“I like it.”

Her blush deepened, and she muttered out her thanks before shifting the conversation away from herself.

“Have you done your exercises today?”

Neji sighed before answering, yes. A nurse came by twice a day to ensure he was walking and practicing special breathing techniques to keep his lungs clear. Tenten knew this but continued to worry over his recovery consistently.

“You did the breathing exercises?”

“Yes.”

“And the coughing?”

“Tenten.”

“Ok, but when did you go for a walk last?”

“Last night when you insisted,” he teased.

Tenten crossed her arms and huffed at him.

“That’s not funny. Sakura said it’s important for you to move.”

“I know,” he said with a bit more exasperation than he’d intended, “I’ve been through this countless times over the last two and a half months, Tenten.”

“I’m sorry,” she huffed, “forgive me for being concerned.”

Neji sighed. They were both tired and stressed. Tenten came to visit him every day, and it didn’t matter if he was in the hospital or resting at home. She seemed to have made overseeing his recovery her primary job. Neji knew from Lee’s visits that Tenten was also fretting over Gai. He appreciated her concern and even felt guilty for being the source of her anxiety, but the constant worrying and nagging opened the door for more arguments. Neji enjoyed exchanging barbs, but Tenten was the last person he wanted to argue with.

“A walk sounds nice,” he relented. They walked every night, regardless of her questions and his answers. So, Neji began the slow process of sitting up. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as it did during his initial recovery, but his muscles still ached and protested from the exertion.

The nurses made him keep a walker next to his bed to brace himself on while he got out of bed, but Neji hated it. It reminded him that he was weak, mortal, and very lucky. Tenten knew he hated the walker; Neji didn’t even have to tell her. It was one of his favorite parts of their friendship. They knew each other so well that they communicated silently. Tenten stood in front of him, offering out her hands should he need them.

In front of anyone else, Neji would wave away assistance but not from Tenten. They gripped each other by the forearms, and Neji stood up. She smiled the whole time, and his heart fluttered.

“Where should we walk to tonight?” she asked as they stepped out of Neji’s room and started down the hall.

“Have you eaten anything?”

“Not yet.”

“Then how about the cafeteria?”

“Oh, are you offering to buy me dinner?” Tenten teased.

“Sure, just charge it to my room,” he joked.

But he’d seen the glint in Tenten’s eyes at the prospect of a meal. He knew she wasn’t eating well. She looked thinner and tired. The war had been particularly unkind to Team Gai, and while Tenten carried herself with a demeanor that said ‘I’m okay,’ Neji could see the truth. He hated it. Hated that she was spreading herself so thin between his and Gai’s recoveries, that she only had Lee to train with, that she had seen so much and cried so little.

“Let’s eat,” Neji confirmed.

The walk was slow. All of his walks were slow.

“How is Gai-sensei doing?” Neji asked. “Lee thought he was almost done in surgery when he was visiting.”

“Yes, he is doing well. He was in recovery when I went to see him today. I left when they moved him back to his regular room. Although I think Sakura gave him some extra medication to make sure he rests.”

“Ah, so I take it we won’t be seeing him tonight?”

Neji paused to rest, and Tenten leaned against the wall.

“Lee and I talked earlier. Gai-sensei will likely be in and out of consciousness all night. We decided it would be best if we split up this New Year’s celebration. He’s staying with Gai-sensei, and I’m with you.”

“So we finally get a quiet and uneventful new year?”

Tenten giggled.

“Just this once.”

They started walking again, quiet as they neared their destination. At the entrance to the cafeteria, Tenten continued the conversation.

“You know, this just means that next year Gai-sensei and Lee are going to go over the top to make up for this year.”

Neji rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the images of Gai and Lee’s potential outlandish plans.

Tenten, at Neji’s quiet insistence, filled a tray with food. He had eaten earlier, so he prepared a cup of tea and purchased Tenten’s meal.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she muttered while they scanned the room for a table.

“I wanted to,” he ensured. A wave of emotion hit him. He always wanted to do small things for Tenten, to repay her selflessness and kindness with his own.

He knew she felt the same way he did, and Neji had resolved to tell her as much. It wasn’t a matter of if he should tell her, but when and how.

Would she want a grand romantic gesture, or would she appreciate something more quiet and comfortable? He could easily imagine either scenario and felt overcome with indecisiveness and nerves.

Tenten elbowed his arm, and he was back in the cafeteria.

“Sakura and Sasuke are here!”

Neji gave a nod to indicate that joining them was fine and followed Tenten to the table.

“Hey, guys!” Sakura, who had been hunched over a cup of coffee, perked up when she saw them.

“Hey, Sakura! Do you mind if we join you?” Tenten asked.

“Oh sure, I’m just on a coffee break.”

Tenten set down her tray and glanced up at Neji. He shook his head, silently declining her offer for help.

He winced as he sat down and let out a sigh before sipping his tea.

Sasuke sat across from him, toying with his coffee.

It was strange to see him without an arm. It made Neji’s stomach turn, and he wondered if it was similar to how Tenten might have felt when she saw him half dead.

“How are you guys doing?” Tenten asked.

“We’re good,” Sakura replied, “tired, but good. Things are starting to slow down, and Tsunade-sama is feeling well enough to help out here and there.”

“That’s good,” said Tenten.

“And I was just checking up on Sasuke’s… uh… arm… before my break, and here we are.”

Sasuke polished off his drink and stood up.

“Gonna grab another coffee, want one?”

“No, thank you.”

Sakura then jerked her chin towards them, ever so slightly.

“How about you two? Need anything?”

“We’re all set, I think,” said Neji, “thanks.”

Sasuke walked off, and Tenten instantly leaned across the table, her meal half-forgotten.

“How are things going?”

“He wants to stay and keep me company tonight!”

“Really?”

“Yes! My shift runs late. Do you think he’s going to kiss me at midnight?”

“Maybe! If he does you have to tell me everything!”

Neji drifted in and out of their rushed conversation giving an appropriate nod or shrug whenever Sakura looked at him for reassurance or he felt Tenten’s expectant glances.

Sakura excused herself shortly after Sasuke’s return and the pair departed the cafeteria.

Tenten tried to push her half eaten bowl of fruit onto Neji, claiming she was full and he needed to eat more.

She cleared their dishes and they slowly made their way back to Neji’s room.

Neji sighed as he leaned back against the bed, the pillows and mattress taking over for his strained and sore core muscles. The bed was raised so he could sit up comfortably.

Tenten stretched her arms and yawned before sitting next to him on the bed.

She reached for the remote and turned on the tv.

“Only three and a half hours left of this shit year,” she said, flipping through channels. “Do you know which channel is the news?”

Neji shook his head.

“There might be a list in the drawer,” he suggested.

“Oh! I found it!” The local New Year’s Eve celebration show had started. Any other year they would be among the revelers in the center of the village enjoying the festival.

...the crowd is ecstatic tonight...eager to leave behind a year of death and destruction...hearbreak and loss....

“I heard from Hinata that they’re going to interview Naruto and Kakashi-sensei.”

“Sakura mentioned that earlier today,” said Neji.

“It’ll be weird to see them on TV.”

Neji glanced over to his teammate, catching her eye.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck here.”

Tenten giggled and leaned her arm against his.

“Don’t be silly. This is where I want to be.”

Neji raised a brow.

“In a hospital room?”

“With you.”

Neji felt his face flush and hoped she didn’t notice. Was this the right moment to speak up?

“Besides,” she continued, “we can see the fireworks from your window.”

Neji shrugged.

“I suppose it’s a fitting end to this year.”

Tenten smiled.

“Yes. The year that we never thought would end. It’s been awful from start to finish.”

“The entire year?”

“Pretty much. I mean, there were some good things. But it was all just preparation for the war and then…”

Tenten trailed off, picking idly at a loose thread on the blanket. She shook her head as if she was denying access to the dark place of her mind where those memories were tucked away. Neji knew that place well. He suspected everyone did.

“It doesn’t matter. The further we move away from this year the better.”

Neji chuckled.

“Do you think that once the clock strikes midnight everything will suddenly change?”

“Maybe, you never know.” She gave him another smile. “It doesn’t hurt to hope though.”

Their conversation died down for a moment, picking up the familiar pattern of silence between topics.

The television hummed with the activity of revelers and hosts entertaining the crowd as the last few hours of the year ticked away.

Twenty minutes before midnight Kakashi appeared on screen to help ring in the new year as Hokage.

...we’re ushering in the new year with an era of peace...

“I hope Gai-sensei is awake for this,” said Tenten.

Kakashi was a bit awkward and unprepared, but if Gai was watching, Neji knew that the new Hokage’s performance could be discussed as nothing less than perfect.

After a few minutes Naruto made his appearance. They listened for a bit before getting out of bed to look out the window.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Tenten reached into her kunai pouch and pulled out a small bottle of sparkling sake, “can’t celebrate without a drink.”

“Don’t let Sakura see that.”

“It’s a mini bottle and you’re going home in the morning. I think you’ll be alright.”

She twisted off the cap and took a swig.

“Although I got a twist-off lid so no one hears a cork pop.”

She passed Neji the bottle and he took a drink. Fizzy bubbles rippled across his tongue, the sake dry and tart.

They finished the bottle as the countdown to midnight started.

...59...58...57...56…

The energy in the room shifted. Neji felt lightheaded with anticipation.

...41...40...39...38...

Neji remembered the question Sakura had eagerly posed to Tenten at dinner.

‘Do you think he’ll kiss me at midnight?’

And he knew that the moment was right.

....27...26...25...24…

Neji watched Tenten watch the television. She was smiling, and Neji didn’t need his byakugan to see that she had relaxed. If it was the sake or the prospect of a new start, Neji wasn’t sure, but her aura of calm was contagious.

...11...10...9...8…

He looked back up at the television, where Naruto was helping lead the countdown.

...5...4...3...2...1... Happy New Year!

Neji could hear cheering from the nurse’s station as the first few fireworks went off.

Tenten ignored the view of the fireworks show they had stood by the window for, turning from the tv directly to Neji, her smile wider.

“Happy New Year, Neji.”

His arm moved before he could register it, cupping her jaw. The smile on fell from her lips, and her brows furrowed with the confusion that played across her face.

That was when he kissed her, soft and gently. He heard the smallest gasp between the burst of fireworks outside their window. Tenten’s lips were soft and tasted sweet like sake. She kissed him back and pressed her hands to his chest. Neji put his hands on her waist and drew her in closer.

They were slow, sweet and unsure. His mind hummed, and his body buzzed. He wanted to pull her even closer and kiss her harder, but he was too nervous, and this was perfect.

Neji wasn’t sure how long they kissed for, but when they stopped it was nothing more than a brief pause, foreheads pressed together.

“Happy New Year, Tenten.”

#NejiTen #tenten #Neji Hyuuga #fanfic #booh writes

51 notes · View notes

coreastories · 4 years

Text

A Royal Exclusive: The King of Corea bares his heart in a flash interview

Their Majesties stunned us by dropping by without notice. The menacing SUVs and luxury sedan seemed to roll in out of nowhere

While we were all holding our breaths disbelieving the impossible, the king and queen themselves stepped out of the car, shook hands with us like they weren’t royalty, and announced an exclusive interview, if we’d have them

Oh wouldn’t we!

They picked the perfect day for it: our office was absolutely empty because we were moving

This author bemoans the complete lack of furniture for Their Majesties

My staff wondered if this was intentional and a part of security measures

If we had furniture, the arrival of Their Majesties would have been delayed; the Royal Guard would have done an initial sweep of every nook and cranny first

As such, in our empty office, Their Majesties were in and out in 30 minutes

It was glorious to interview the royal couple.

This author did have to scream in the powder room for a minute before composure returned

The king’s chair in the photo: We had three of these portable chairs left in the back room

Making everyone’s hearts flutter, the king took one look at the chairs and the queen was not allowed to sit in it. Too unstable

Instead, the queen’s Unbreakable Sword Jang Mi-reuk fashioned a seat for the queen in the corner of the studio

I swear the entire office shivered with glee, dear reader. The king is just breathtakingly adorable in his protectiveness of the queen.

And all that that implies!

This is an interview with the king. While the queen was also present, she didn’t participate. She only listened and sort of melted in her makeshift seat whenever the king made the sweetest, most adorable answers.

We saw her trying valiantly to stay stoic, almost looking annoyed, but at some point gave up and gave our photographer the chance to snap this sweet photo.

This author can’t blame her!

This was obviously a calculated--and very smart--move on the part of the Royal Court and Royal Public Affairs Office, to deflect the interest on the newly-revealed Lady Seo-gyeong, the queen’s identical twin sister.**

And indeed, this will be all everyone will talk about for weeks to come.

Without further ado, here’s my interview with His Majesty, the King of Corea.

Q. How did you and Her Majesty meet?

I was violating traffic laws. She handcuffed me and took me to the station.

This author is stunned again.

Q. This was in Seoul?

Yes.

I’m afraid this author decided to move onward with more delicious details in case our time was cut short, dear reader. But handcuffing in Seoul is already enough to fuel your imagination, isn’t it?

Q. Are you truly friends with the Prime Minister now?

The Prime Minister is an excellent leader, an excellent person, and I’m glad of her growing friendship with the queen.

I wanted to ask if the Prime Minister still flirts with him, but this author is not a columnist for nothing, dear reader. I’ve been trained to be observant. And my observant eyes noted Captain Jo Yeong and pretty much all the Royal Guard glaring at me. So I removed my questions about the the king’s history--or lack of-- with the PM.

I must say that I also have the highest regard for Her Excellency.

Q. How do Your Majesties start the day?

Hmm. Shower. Cooking. Breakfast.

Q. And how do Your Majesties end the evenings?

(with an amused face) Shower. Cooking. Dinner.

Q. What are Your Majesties favorite foods? Let’s narrow that to meat dishes.

I like fried chicken. Her Majesty likes a variety of dishes and is only opinionated about her drinks.

Q. Yes? What is Her Majesty’s favorite drink?

Soju and beer.

As far as this author could remember from all events and public appearances, there was no soju and beer ever seen in the queen’s hand. Then again, perhaps the queen doesn’t drink in public.

Q. Your Majesty, we do need to ask, are we expecting a royal prince or princess of Corea?

We are told not to confirm nor deny that.

Q. Oh no?

You’ll know anyway.

Indeed we would!

Q. Why doesn’t Her Majesty wear wedding and engagement rings?

She doesn’t wear them in public. It’s too ingrained in her to keep her hands clear and ready to punch someone.

The queen snorted at this. Indelicately.

Q. Are Your Majesties safe now? Are there still threats from the traitor’s followers?

Thankfully none at present and hopefully none in the future. We’ve been blessed in that regard, too.

Q. Yes? Can you elaborate on this blessing?

We were blessed by God to meet and stay together. God made sure our paths would cross and stay intertwined.

Q. That is very cryptic, Your Majesty. Can you say more?

He made her my zero. I was trapped in a square root and she helped me escape.

Well, that was just more cryptic, wasn’t it?

Q. Say the first thing that comes to mind: what do you love most about the queen?

Her smile and her spirit.

Swoon.

Q. And what does Her Majesty love about you?

Ahh. Well, you’ll have to ask her that. She has told me I know how to joke in difficult situations and that’s why everyone in the palace loves me. She reluctantly told me this, so I assume she loves that about me, too.

This author has the feeling the king diplomatically gave that answer so the queen doesn’t combust in her seat. She was very red in the face.

I sense an inside joke or reference only the king and queen would know about.

Q. What is something you adore about the queen, something we won’t see or notice at all because we don’t live with her, but something we can watch out for in her public appearances?

(The king looked at the queen and seemed to assess his answer for several moments.) She often misses her coat pockets. It takes her three to four tries to find it.***

At this point I had to fight very hard not to make any undignified noises. We all miss our pockets, but it’s adorable that the king watches his queen so closely and finds this little thing adorable.

Q. In Mr Jang’s Instagram photo of Your Majesties, he said something about you getting panicky-- this was connected to you and the queen waiting for food, I believe. Can you tell us about that?****

Not much to tell. The queen is terrifying when she’s hungry.

We very quickly offered Her Majesty refreshments, but she assured us she was fine, shooting a, well, adorable glare at the king.

How many times has this author used the word adorable in this article? I’m still out of breath. They are adorable.

We asked if the queen can also answer a few questions, but that was the end of the interview.

Apparently the king is protective of the queen to an extent that she was to be shielded from potentially wobbly chairs and questions from chroniclers like myself, even in the presence of scary, fully armed Unbreakable Swords and members of the Royal Guard with ultra-fast reflexes.

We look forward to the Queens Day when they’ve promised press meetings.

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

** See A Royal Twin: Meet the Honorable Lady Seo-gyeong

*** This is true. Someone made a hilarious video compiling all the times Jeong Tae-eul tried to find her coat pockets during scenes or filming lmao this fandom is amazeballs

I’ll edit this post with it when I find it again. Off the top of my head, she did this again in Episode 16 while she and Gon are examining the phone booth.

**** See Royals Spotted: The Unbreakable Sword Has Insta!

#CoreaNews #CoreaFiction

#CoreaNews #CoreaFiction #i couldn't resist these photos #adorable #kim go eun #lee min ho #jeong tae eul #lee gon #the king: eternal monarch #the king eternal monarch #TKEM #tkem fan fic

156 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Galactica, Chapter 56 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Hiya loves! We're doubling up tonight to catch up to where we are on AO3. Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet returned to work, Raven made a career-changing decision and Pearl went out a window.

This Chapter: Gigi takes a chance, Courtney is distracted, Fame continues to be Fame and Trixie struggles.

***

Bimini stirred a pot of quinoa in the kitchen, preparing her lunch after her midday trip to the gym, when she heard a yell sound throughout the apartment.

“OH! MY! GOD!”

Bimini turned around, just to see Symone come out of her room, her laptop in hand.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god!” Symone was jumping up and down, a gigantic grin on her face, her hair in a high ponytail, the screen of the laptop shaking.

“Hello love-”

“I GOT OFFERED A MAGAZINE!” Symone screamed, happiness radiating from her and Bimini couldn’t hide a smile.

This. This was exactly why she still lived in a model apartment even though she was in her mid twenties. This was why she stayed even though she could easily afford her own place. This was why she didn’t mind when new girls didn’t wash their dishes or when they left panties in the bathroom sink.

Because she got to be part of moments like this.

“Congratulations,” Bimini grinned. “See,” She pointed her spoon at Symone, “I told you Sutan was brilliant.”

“Mmh,” Symone smiled, holding her laptop to her chest, squeezing it tight.

“What’s up with all this noise?”

Both Symone and Bimini turned, catching sight of Naomi and Gigi who had come out of the rooms, Naomi's hand on her hip as she looked around, Gigi’s eyes wide as saucers as she took in the scene.

“Symone got her first magazine,” Bimini poured black beans over her quinoa.

“What?!” Naomi walked over to Symone, grabbing the computer from her hands. “Give me that!” Naomi's eyes ran over the screen, her hair spilling down her back, her long legs looking even longer in the tight leggings she was wearing. “Holy shit.”

“Congratulations Symone,” Gigi smiled, and Bimini felt a wave of fondness for the new girl who had literally flown in last night, Sutan asking to see her in person. She was obviously not a real redhead, her dye job not fooling anyone, but she had perfect eyebrows and a very nice smile, the way she moved filled with potential.

“This is so unfair!” Naomi groaned, shoving the laptop back into Symone's arms. “You haven’t even walked a proper runway yet!”

Bimini didn’t like to get in arguments, her personality type not one that looked for conflicts, so she wasn’t going to point out that Symone had literally just walked a showroom, which was a much bigger deal than anything Naomi’s agent had gotten her at L.A. Fashion week back in October.

“You Amrull girls have it all too easy.” Naomi sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, sighing heavily. “Fuck.”

***

“Ah!” Pearl grinned as she finally found her keycard, the lanyard shoved to the very bottom of her beat-up messenger bag, her computer safely inside. Pearl held it against the door, a little beep allowing her to step inside the design empty floor.

Pearl didn’t normally go home with Trixie, since part of her job entailed after-work schmoozing and cocktails and entertaining their ad partners and she was normally long gone when he ended his day, but Katya had texted that she couldn’t get ahold of him, and when Pearl had checked his work calendar, it had all made sense. Trixie was apparently spending the afternoon on attempting to find a new hire for design, and Pearl wasn’t envious in the least. Since she was still in the office editing their new web content, she went down to get him.

“Sugar butt!” Pearl held a hand up to her mouth, calling out for her best friend, the door to his office closed. “Time to go home!”

“Do you mind keeping it down?”

Pearl looked over, spotting Violet who was still sitting at her desk.

“Vivi!” Pearl grinned, letting go of the door to walk into the floor, her quest to get Trixie completely forgotten.

“Don’t call me that.” Violet huffed, but she didn’t protest as Pearl walked over.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Pearl grabbed an empty chair, spinning it around to sit on it. “How’s the whole leg situation?” Pearl gestured towards Violet’s leg. She had already gotten the whole story from Trixie as they played Playstation and drank beer, the man working through his feelings by shooting people in Call of Duty.

“Annoying.” Violet raised an eyebrow. “Kinda like you.”

“Ah!” Pearl gasped, putting a hand on her chest. “Someone hasn’t gotten the good painkillers.”

“Please,” Violet sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m fine, it’s just this stupid fucking paperwork.” Violet gestured to her desk, and Pearl looked at it, Violet’s desk for once not filled with the trinkets that usually defined her space. Instead, it was pages upon pages of legal documents.

“Damn.”

“Mmmh,” Violet signed another one, putting it on top of the rather large pile. “You’d think not pressing charges would be easier.”

“Hold on,” Pearl sat up straight. “You’re not pressing charges?”

“No,” Violet shook her head. “I don’t want to bother anyone.”

“Standing up for yourself isn’t a bother Vivi.” Pearl bit her lip, moving closer to her friend. “You deserve justice.”

Violet looked at her, her brown eyes searching Pearl’s face.

“Know what Pearl?”

It wasn’t often that Pearl blushed, actually, it almost never happened, but she could feel her cheeks heat up, the intensity on Violet’s face making her feel both small and like she was the center of the universe.

“Forget what I said,” Violet smiled, tilting her head. “You’re not that annoying.”

“Ha!” Pearl laughed, throwing her hair over her shoulder, the moment between them broken as Violet joined in. “Girl please.”

“I could sue, but, I honestly just want to be left alone, and to forget that this entire thing ever happened.”

“If you’re sure.” Pearl leaned back in her chair. It made sense with what she knew of Violet, a trail sure to be what she’d consider an unnecessary mess. “But just so you know, I’m punching Aiden in the face if I ever see him again.”

***

Gigi tapped her foot nervously, heart racing and stomach in knots from the three espresso shots she’d had this morning.

It was either that, or the fact that she was in way over her head, and couldn’t even figure out how she’d gotten there.

Less than two weeks ago, she’d been hanging out at the Venice Beach skate park with two of her friends, enjoying the sunshine and a scoop of her favorite banana chocolate chip bread pudding from Schulzies, when a woman with a labradoodle handed her a business card.

She’d called the number later, after getting home from her fashion design class at SMC, and now, here she was. Sitting in the lobby of Elite Model Management feeling like, at best, a mistake, and at worst, a complete and total fraud.

“Gigi Goode?” A dark-haired woman called out, giving her a warm smile as she stood up, smoothing down the skirt of the green dress her mother had made.

Gigi wished her mother was there with her, but apparently grown-ups don’t take their moms with them to job interviews--or whatever this was, and Gigi desperately wanted to be seen as a grown up.

“Follow me.”

Gig swallowed, following her down a long hallway and then into an open, bustling bullpen, full of chic New York professionals, all perfectly groomed, every movement with purpose.

They stepped up to a door labeled ‘Sutan Amrull’ and Gigi stopped cold, suddenly overcome with fear.

“Wait…” she took another deep breath, trying to calm her shaking nerves.

The woman turned around, a look of concern flashing over her face before she smiled again.

“Hey,” She reached out, touching Gigi’s arm. “Don’t worry… You’re gonna be great in there.” She gave it a quick squeeze before letting go. “And, if it helps at all… I promise that he’s incredibly nice.”

Gigi forced out a laugh, nodding. “It does help. Thanks.”

The woman opened the door and guided her inside, where the man himself sat behind a large desk, a pair of glasses on as he was typing away on his laptop.

It was weird seeing Sutan in real life, since Gigi had of course looked him up, and knew that he was the force behind some of the biggest supermodels in the last 20 years.

“Umh..”

Gigi bit her lip. She knew she was already signed with Elite in L.A., but apparently, Sutan had asked for her specifically and after talking to Naomi, she knew that meeting could determine the course of the rest of her career.

“Oh,” Sutan looked up, a smile flashing over his face before he closed his computer and pushed his glasses into his hair. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Gigi waved, her stomach doing a flip. “I’m Gigi.”

“And it’s great to meet you, Gigi!” Sutan stood up, quickly buttoning his suit jacket before gesturing towards the chair in front of him. “Come sit.”

Gigi did as he asked, the man shaking her hand before she sat down. She’d never been treated so seriously before.

“How are you doing?” Sutan sat back down. “Is the apartment okay? Girls treating you well?”

“Oh, yeah.” Gigi nodded. “Everyone’s been…really cool.”

Really cool was an understatement. Symone was probably the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. Naomi carried herself with absolute confidence, and Bimini was so amazing Gigi couldn’t help but hang on her every word.

“Wonderful.” Sutan smiled. “I like your dress.”

Gigi didn’t know if he was being serious, the suit Sutan was wearing obviously expensive, what everyone was wearing in New York obviously expensive.

“My mom made it.”

“She did?” Sutan looked surprised for a second. “That’s great, and a good edge to have.” He smiled, tapping the pen he had picked up on the desk. “If she happens to ever be in New York, bring her by. Let me say hello to her and show her around the company so she knows what you’re going to be doing.”

“Really?” Gigi tried to hide how much that notion excited her, how much she’d love to share more with her mom than her nightly calls home. “She’d love that, and she likes coming to New York. She’s a costume designer. For theater.”

“Makes it all the better! I’m sure we could get some Broadway tickets for the two of you.” Sutan made a quick note, and Gigi wondered for a second if it’d be rude to make a request, her mom talking her ear off about how Jinkx Monsoon was finally going to be back on Broadway. “My girlfriend is actually a designer too.” Sutan smiled. “Though she only does boring old regular fashion.”

Gigi laughed, the promise that Sutan was nice apparently holding true.

“So.” Sutan sat up straight, adjusting his suit jacket. “Let’s cut to the chase.”

Gigi nodded, shifting so she could sit on top of her hand, her stomach suddenly tight with anticipation and worry.

“I’m very interested in signing you Gigi.” Sutan pointed at her with his pen. “You’re obviously gorgeous, but we all already knew that.”

Gigi had never heard anyone state how she looked with such absolute confidence, Sutan calling her gorgeous like it was a fact and not an opinion.

“I have to see you walk, and we need professional photos for a portfolio, so we have to do test shots which means we need to get you to a salon.”

Gigi had to force her hand not to fly to her hair, but she had apparently not managed to hide it well enough, since Sutan smiled.

“I’m not going to make you into a blonde or anything, but Elite girls don’t use box dye.”

“It’s actually-”

“Or henna.” Sutan had cut her off, but Gigi didn’t feel corrected or like she had done anything wrong. “I promise you’ll love it. Juju Sanderson is a master at what she does, and you can always say no.”

Gigi nodded, the nervous twisting of her stomach replaced with more manageable butterflies.

“All that aside… Today, I think you and I should just talk. Get to know each other.” Sutan leaned back in his chair. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.” Gigi smiled, finally letting herself be excited. She was going to be a model.

“So, Bimini told me you like roller skating?”

***

There were times when Maxwell was incredibly, deeply grateful for Trixie’s laid-back, supportive-dad style of management. Times when it was essential to have someone running the show who didn’t yell, who had perspective and encouraged them all to find joy in their work, to not get too stressed out about deadlines, reminding them that they were a team. Usually, in fact, Maxwell appreciated Trixie a lot.

Today was not one of those days.

In typical Coach fashion, Trixie had dragged the entire department out for a family lunch at a nearby Mexican restaurant, insisting that they were all getting way too anxious and uptight about the upcoming deadline for Spring Runway submissions. He treated them all to delicious food and several rounds of margaritas, got them all to relax and let their guards down.

Which is why, when they returned to the office, laughing and chattering, trading jokes and banter, no one was prepared for the sight that awaited them.

Miss Fame, in all her ivory-clad glory, standing in the middle of the design floor, tapping her foot and looking around.

Maxwell felt his heart literally drop straight out of his asshole, the panic of a drop-in visit from their CEO just as acute as if it was the first time.

Why hadn’t Courtney called to let them know she was coming? Usually, they would have at least had a few minutes of warning. And they all had their phones on them, so there was no excuse. What an absolute nightmare.

"There you are. I was starting to worry I was paying you all for nothing."

Maxwell exchanged a tense look with Alexis, the only other designer who’d been through this ordeal as many times as him, the trauma bond they shared always coming out in moments like this.

"Hi, Fame,” Trixie said, doing his best to save them all with a friendly grin. “Can we help you?"

"Knit."

Everyone looked at April, whose eyes grew about three sizes, and Miss Fame sighed.

"White knit. One of you showed me a white knit," she said, then folded her arms, clearly waiting for a clear and immediate answer, no one stepping forth, not even Violet who Maxwell knew was fluent in Fame.

"Umh," Blu raised her hand like an obedient second grader, and Fame gestured for her to go on. "Can you be a bit more specific-"

"No," Fame cut her off. "Now. Who has something of actual value to add?"

***

Courtney stabbed a tomato, wondering what time it was in Tokyo. It had to be late at night. Was Bianca out on the town, living it up and enjoying the Japanese nightlife? Or, maybe she was back in her hotel room, already tucked in bed. Courtney closed her eyes, wishing she was there with her instead of stuck in this dull cafeteria surrounded by suits.

If she really concentrated, she could imagine the feel of the cool sheets on her back, Bianca’s lips trailing down her collarbone. She squeezed her thighs together under the table.

“This seat taken?”

“No, go ahead,” Courtney replied distractedly, lowering her eyes once again, doing her damndest to conjure up the image she’d just had, feeling like she’d just been woken up from a delicious dream, trying desperately to fall back asleep quickly--but it was gone. She sighed, dejected.

“Deep in thought, huh?”

Courtney looked up to see that the voice belonged to one of the suits, a generic square-jawed bro smiling at her from across the table, apparently trying to be charming.

“Um…” She was in no mood for this today. She glanced over at her phone to check the time, eyes bulging and stomach turning over when she realized how long it had been, and that she had three missed calls from the office. Miss Fame was obviously back from her own lunch, and Courtney was in deep shit. “Fuck!”

She jumped up from her seat, snatching up her things.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck-”

“Everything okay?” asked the suit, but Courtney didn’t have time to indulge his bullshit, simply grunted a ‘yeah’ and raced to the elevator.

When she got to the office, she realized to her dismay that Fame was nowhere to be found. She woke up her computer and quickly figured out what happened. She must have gone down to design...with no warning, if the frantic messages from downstairs were any indication.

She slid into her seat, taking a deep breath and picked up the phone, dialing Kandy’s extension. She answered immediately, quietly reporting, “Yeah, she’s still here. Everyone’s ready to kill you.”

“I know, I’m sorry! I thought she was still at lunch, but...what can I do to make it better?”

“We like pastries and alcohol,” Kandy said, and then abruptly hung up, Courtney dropping the receiver with a groan.

***

Sutan grabbed a handful of hangers with polo shirts, putting them into the clear plastic bin he had fished out from the bottom of his closet. The dry cleaning had been hanging in the hallway when he had gotten home from work, Violet’s things mixed in with his own, the apartment as always spotless after the visit from his housekeeper.

Sutan took another handful, putting it in the bin for storage. Violet hadn’t asked him to clean out the summer side of his wardrobe, the clothes she hadn’t yet used still neatly packed up in the beat up suitcase they had gotten from her place, but Sutan wanted to do this for her, wanted to make sure that it was easy for Violet to get to her things while she was staying in his apartment.

He put the lid on the bin, actually hauling it to the empty walk-in closet in Raja’s old room a task for another day since he wanted to get done before dinner arrived, an order of Italian food on it’s way.

Sutan didn’t actually know if Italian was what Violet wanted but it seemed like a safe bet, his girlfriend asleep on the couch when he got home, her shoe, jacket, crutches and purse making a trail from the hallway to where she had obviously crashed the second she came through the door.

He admired her work ethic, but a small part of him couldn’t help but worry if she was pushing too hard too fast, Violet’s afternoons spent with her sketchbook open to do her part of the spring fill ins, even though he could see that she was so exhausted she could barely hold a pencil.

Sutan tore into the plastic, ready to put the clothes away, when he heard the door to the bedroom open.

“Sutan?”

“In here!” Sutan poked his head out of the closet, a smile on his lips when he saw Violet in the door, his girlfriend leaning against the frame. “I got you a penne vodka for dinner.”

“That’s fine.” Violet was wearing her work clothes, a pale lilac wrap dress hugging her body, but she was rumpled from sleep, the fabric askew so he could see her bra, matching lilac lace peeking out.

“Fine.” Sutan nodded, a fine from Violet just that. A confirmation that it was fine, which Sutan was still trying to get used to.

“Do you have Raven’s number?”

“... Yes?” Sutan looked at Violet, only now noticing that she was holding her old and clunky iPhone in her free hand, the other holding the one crutch she prefered to use at home. “Why?”

“So I can text her?”

Sutan snorted, the dry reply really what he should have expected.

“I figured.” He fished his own phone out of his pocket, his notifications telling him that a text from Gigi had ticked in, the young girl asking him if she could bring some reference photos for Juju to look at.

Gigi was only 19, but his gut feeling had been confirmed the moment he saw her, her weird but charming little laugh, great jaw and intense eyes exactly what he predicted everyone would be looking for in the upcoming seasons. She was a little bit boney, but she’d hopefully grow into it, a pound or three more and some guided trips to the gym rounding her out.

“There.” Sutan pressed send on Raven’s contact, a ding from Violet’s phone telling him it had arrived.

“Thanks,” Violet smiled, and Sutan had expected that he’d be left to continue unpacking, but she was still leaning against the door, now fiddling with her phone.

“Everything okay lovely eyes?”

“It’s just,” Violet looked unsure. “The spa thing Fame sent with the flowers. It’s for two, and I wanted… I thought maybe Raven would like to go with me, but…”

Violet trailed off, and Sutan had to bite down a smile. He had sensed that Raven and Violet had gotten closer but this was a development he hadn’t seen coming.

“I think she’d love that.”

***

“So, these are my top three candidates at the moment,” Trixie said, handing over an iPad to Raja, and a folder to Fame, who always preferred to look at physical copies, the three of them in Fame’s office.

Raja swiped through the photos, trying not to judge the candidates too harshly, while Fame sifted through the folder.

“Trixie…” Fame paused, looking up, “what am I looking at, exactly?”

“Well, uh… One of them is a recent Parsons graduate, the other has been working at Calvin Klein for a few years, and the third-”

“This is garbage, Trixie. None of this work speaks to the Galactica brand. None of it.”

“Well, but don’t you think those blue pieces are-”

“Trixie.”

Raja felt for Trixie, she really did, but she had to agree with Fame on this one. She could see why he’d selected the designers, their work technically good and creatively interesting, but it was all wrong for Galactica.

“Look, I know they’re not the most exciting portfolios we’ve seen, but this is a tough time of year, and this was the best of the bunch. Fashion week will be hard without an extra person, and Violet’s been doing great work, but her injury is really slowing her down, and-”

“Why don’t you expand the search? Maybe go international?” Raja suggested.

“Yes, try that. And please do not waste our time with any more sub-par candidates.” Fame closed the folder, then called out, “Courtney!”

After a beat, she sighed and tried again. “Courtney!”

It seemed that the progress Raja thought Courtney was making had been stymied a bit, Fame’s exasperation clear as she raised her voice, something she hated to do, calling out to her for a third time.

“Courtney!”

“Yes Miss!” Courtney finally came racing to the door, standing breathlessly, notepad in her hand, waiting for Fame’s instructions. Fame held out the folder in her hands, and Courtney stepped forward.

“This is garbage,” she said, handing over the folder. Courtney took the folder, pausing for a moment, as Fame looked at Trixie and pointedly repeated, “garbage.”

Courtney looked slightly confused, but nonetheless dropped the folder into the trash can beside Fame’s seat on the sofa.

“Is there anything else you need, Miss?”

Raja stifled a laugh, knowing full well that this moment had lost the dramatic punch that Fame intended, could see the cross look on her friend’s face as clear as day.

“That’s all.”

6 notes · View notes

dxrksong · 3 years

Text

Silver Eyes chapter 2

Pierce makes friends with a certian robot

Tw's as usual, read at your own discretion

You soon opened your eyes once more, the dark lighting of what you can only assume is a hospital room greeting you.

You could hear the heart monitor nearby and the soft snoring of Dr.Iplier and someone else beyond the curtains.

Now's a good time to leave if any.

Pierce sat up, looking around to find his clothes on a nearby chair. Moving quietly, he put his clothes on and ever so gently lowered the volume on the heart monitor before unplugging it and going to sneak out of the room.

Luckily the door was already open. But once outside his room, he realized he was in a much more difficult situation than a hospital.

This place was a mansion! Just where the hell was he?! For all he knew he was kidnapped and was going to be forced to be their butler or something!

Something akin to panic started rising up and Pierce immediately started looking for a way to leave this place. There's bound to be a front, a back, and several side doors somewhere right?

Pierce tried to run as silently as possible, turning left and right and running up and down stairs. No matter what he did

He always found himself passing by the infirmary once again. It's almost like the manor itself didn't want him to leave!

Pierce leaned up against the wall, hyperventilating in his panicked state. He was stuck here! he was STUCK here!!

"Now what to we have here?"

Pierce's head shot up, him looking around wildly. The voice continued to speak, Pierce slowly realizing that it wasn't directed towards him and to something else.

Standing back up on shaky legs, Pierce proceeded to slowly follow the voice, keeping an eye out for any potential threats.

"Th-th-the DA-W-W-W-Welcome back!"

A robot…? In a place like this..?

Well he supposes it's not the WEIRDEST thing here. Pierce found a slightly ajar door, light spilling out of it. He approached it and leaned to try and see who was in there.

There was a stage, rows of chairs settled in front of it. On that stage was a table, some chairs, a single light, and the robot.

The robot was modeled after a human, a pink mustache, rosey cheeks, and rainbow overalls on top of a yellow "shirt" being the things that Pierce noticed the most.

Pierce, gathering up his courage, reminded himself that the worse thing that could happen was him dying. And then he stepped into the room.

The robot continued to talk nonsense to itself as Pierce walked down the rows of chairs towards the stage. Once there Pierce wearily eyed the robot as he sat down on the stage with a sigh.

He was lost, confused, scared, tired, and just flat out, out of energy.

"H-h-how many people have you killed?"

Pierce: pfft. Can't even kill myself.

"Great answer!"

Why is he talking to this thing?

"What your favorite color?"

Pierce: I dunno, Black? Maybe a really dark blue?

"Great choices! I kn-kn-know a friend that does too!"

"How is your day?"

Pierce sighed

Pierce: stressful. I just realized I'm trapped in a manor with this guy and a bunch of his lookalikes and NOT actually a hospital like I thought. Needless to say I'm screwed.

".....a-a-a-are you ok?"

Pierce glanced to the robot. It wasn't looking at him. Pierce looked away and shrugged

Pierce: not really? Hehe I mean. I'm supposed to be dead right now! But then someone had to save me and now I just….I don't know what to do with myself at this rate…..

"Wanna talk about it?"

Pierce chuckled. He's really doing this isn't he?

Pierce: aw fuck it.

Pierce stood up and got on stage, taking the seat across the robot.

Pierce: mind if I ask you some questions?

"Wh-who's interviewing who here?"

The robot said with the slightest hint of playfulness. Pierce snorted at that

Pierce: well it's only fair, after all you've been questioning me since I sat down.

".....fair. enough. Y/N"

Pierce chuckled softly

Pierce: actually….the name is Pierce.

"Pierce…...I like it. It has a sense of uniqueness."

Pierce: thanks. Picked it myself

Pierce and the robot got to talking, Pierce finding out that the robot apparently knew him in his past life, hence the strange old name and that there was actually more than just the Doc and that Dark character.

Pierce: what's up with him anyway? Dark?

"H-he lost you once….he used to be one of your closest friends. I-I-I think seeing you trying to drown activated some of his old h-h-habits."

Pierce: the doctor was surprised when Dark walked away when I asked him too. Does that have something to do with it?

"......yes. y-you see….I don't rightfully know all the details. B-but I do know he's changed since you've left. He became more…..tired, I think. More on edge and quick to take control of any situation. I think he's scared…...it's been so long since you've left and yet…..I-I think that maybe-"

The robot was cut off by a small bell, the Robot lowering it's voice.

"Oh no."

Pierce: what's wrong?

"I-I have to recalibrate my servos every night. Don't worry, you'll be fine. When I ask, just say potato salad."

Potato salad? Is that like some kind of over right code?

The robot proceeded to make noises like Pierce has never heard of before before stopping

"Please. Respond"

Pierce: uh Potato salad?

".......answer accepted!"

Some lights went on along with a triumphant sound.

"Thank you. Now, anything else you want to know?"

Pierce: I suppose not since you can't seem to tell me about the others in this manor besides most of them being dangerous. And you don't know where the exit is…..

Pierce's eyes wondered around the room. There seemed to be two other stages set up besides the one they're sitting on. A stage that looks set up for a game show of sorts and the other has various equipment on it.

Including an areal ring hanging from the ceiling by a hook and what looks to be a pale pink silk ribbon.

Huh…..intresting.

Pierce: hey, think the others would mind if I messed with their equipment a little?

Pierce didn't wait for the robot to respond as he got up from his chair and hopped off what he dubbed the "interview stage", heading over to the "performance stage"

Once there, Pierce climbed onto the stage and approached the Areal Ring. Even though Pierce has never been on these things before, he knew how to at least sit on one of them.

Pierce easily climbed onto the ring and got comfortable. If he was stuck here, he might as well be resting somewhere of his own volition.

Pierce closed his eyes and the next thing he knew, he dozed off

-----------

@iam-trash-stuff

#y/n #wkm #wkm y/n #wkm colonel #wkm district attorney #wkm the district attorney #wkm the colonel #Waia #Pierce #wkm oc (kinda)#tw depression #SilverEyes

7 notes · View notes

heartofether · 3 years

Text

Episode 16 - Lorelei TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or go to our “Listen” page if you’re on desktop.]

VAL

Warning: This episode contains discussions and descriptions of child abuse, and may not be suitable for all audiences. For exact time stamps and a full list of content warnings, please check the show notes. We suggest you check the content warnings regardless, since this is a bit of an intense episode, and contains instances of panic attacks, screaming, and violence. Listener discretion is advised.

AUTOMATED VOICE

[VERY SLOWED DOWN] Please state your message.

[THEME SONG PLAYS.]

VAL

Three-eyed Frog Presents: The Heart of Ether.

[THEME SONG FADES TO A STOP.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[INT./EXT. OUTSIDE OF LORELEI FOSTER’S HOUSE, DAYTIME.]

[THE SOUND OF A RAVEN CAWING IS HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND.]

AGENT JUNE

Jeez, this place smells like a zoo.

AGENT MAY

I need to introduce the recording. Interview with Lorelei Foster, at her home. Part of Operation Saturn, phase 1.2. Conducted by Agents May and June. All— [CUTTING HIMSELF OFF] June, hey, stay in the car!

[AS HE TALKS, AGENT JUNE IS HEARD OPENING THE CAR DOOR AND STARTING TO STEP OUT.]

AGENT JUNE

What? Come on, dude, I’m getting impatient.

AGENT MAY

We’ll go up to her door in a minute. There’s just—I need to ask you something first.

AGENT JUNE

Oh. Why didn’t you just say so?

[HE CLIMBS BACK INTO THE CAR, CLOSING THE DOOR. AGENT MAY SIGHS.]

AGENT MAY

[SLIGHTLY NERVOUS] You are aware of the case of Lorelei Foster, correct?

AGENT JUNE

Uh, obviously. She was a part of some coven and they all went missing except for her. She moved to this house way outside of town and refused to show her face.

AGENT MAY

Well, under the naming conventions of Valencia and Wood, the Foundation believes that Lorelei Foster is what is known as a “Beastly.” What she could be capable of—it’s not something to play around with. Okay? She could be dangerous. Not deadly, per say, but still potentially devastating in her power.

AGENT JUNE

[PANICKED SARCASM] Wow, that’s super comforting, Agent May.

AGENT MAY

Just don’t say or do anything stupid, alright? Also, if when we see her, she looks, you know, different, don’t comment on it. Act like you don’t even notice.

AGENT JUNE

That’s all? Well, don’t worry about it, then. I’ve never judged a book by its cover. I’ll just stand there and act as well-behaved as I always do.

AGENT MAY

[UNDER HIS BREATH] That’s what I feared.

[THEY BOTH GET OUT OF THE CAR AND WALK UP TO HER FRONT DOOR. IT'S A LOVELY DAY OUTSIDE, WITH BIRDS CHIRPING AS IF NOTHING IS WRONG. AGENT MAY KNOCKS.]

AGENT MAY

Ms. Foster? This is Agents May and June. We’re with the Harper Foundation. We’re here to ask you a few questions.

[A RAVEN CAWS AS THERE IS NO RESPONSE.]

AGENT JUNE

Maybe she’s not home?

AGENT MAY

I don’t believe she ever leaves her house. Look at her car. It’s untouched. I’m sure she even gets her groceries delivered, somehow.

[HE KNOCKS AGAIN.]

AGENT MAY

We do not wish to harm you or bring you into custody, Ms. Foster. We won’t tell anyone what you are or what you’re doing here. We simply believe you may have some helpful insight on Ether. Just let us ask a few things, and then we’ll be out of your way.

[THERE’S A LONG PAUSE.]

AGENT JUNE

Maybe it’s a lost cause. Well, at least we can say we tried. Guess we should just—

[AS HE’S TALKING, THE DOOR CREAKS OPEN JUST A CRACK.]

LORELEI

You do not plan on taking photographs, do you?

AGENT MAY

We’re recording this over audio. Nobody will see your face except for the two of us, we promise.

AGENT JUNE

Yeah, don’t sweat it. We’re not gonna—[STARTLED] Oh my god!

[AS HE SPEAKS, LORELEI OPENS THE DOOR THE REST OF THE WAY TO REVEAL HER TRUE FORM.]

LORELEI

Is there a problem?

AGENT MAY

Not at all, Ms. Foster. Apologizes for my colleague, he is—

AGENT JUNE

[NERVOUSLY BLUFFING] I have a fear of new people. Yup. Terrified of ‘em.

AGENT MAY

[PLAYING ALONG] It’s tragic, really. Makes our job incredibly difficult.

LORELEI

[SUSPICIOUS] Quite.

[A BEAT.] Well, you said you had questions?

AGENT MAY

That we do. May we come in?

LORELEI

I would advise against it. Terrance is a pacifist when around me, but I am unsure of how he would react to new people.

AGENT JUNE

And who is Terrance, exactly?

LORELEI

A bear. [SADLY] Used to be a friend.

[A BEAR GROWLS IN THE BACKGROUND. AGENT JUNE MAKES A WEAK NOISE OF FEAR.]

LORELEI

I am still unsure whether his calm nature is because he maintained his human consciousness, or if I have some level of control over him that makes him do as I wish. Perhaps a mix of both.

AGENT MAY

Did you make him this way?

LORELEI

That much should be obvious, don’t you think? Assuming you really know what you’re talking about, and you’re not just bluffing.

AGENT MAY

We are somewhat familiar with your kind, but we’re always looking to learn more.

LORELEI

[SHE SCOFFS.] Is that what this is? You view me as a learning opportunity? Like a sample dragged in by the biology teacher for lab day?

AGENT MAY

Of course not. We’re just trying to learn more about Ether.

AGENT JUNE

I am very curious about how you managed to do it, though, if you care to indulge us?

[THERE’S A PAUSE.]

LORELEI

[SOLEMN] I never asked for any of this. When we attempted the ritual, our hope was that by the end of it, all of us would obtain the same level of power. Valencia told me it would never work. I had quite the rebellious streak back then, though. I didn’t believe him. Perhaps I should have.

If I had known that all of that power would have been channeled into me, I never would have attempted it. Now that time has passed, I realize how useless of a power it even is. What made Ether decide to curse me with it, I’ll never know. Perhaps we didn’t speak clearly enough when we did the ritual.

I had no idea what my limits were, or how to use my abilities. The consequences, of course, were far greater than I could have ever imagined. Terrance and Abigail were both accidents. Clementine, I turned her into a spider in a fit of rage. Scott happened when I was sobbing my eyes out, and he made the mistake of trying to comfort me. I am unsure if I intended to turn him into a snake or not. By the time River was the only one left, they came to me and asked to be turned into a cat. They said they knew I was bound to do it eventually, and they wanted to choose what animal they became. I did as they wished.

[JUST AS SHE SAYS THAT, A RAVEN FLIES OVER AND SQUAWKS. AGENT JUNE STARTLES, YELPING AT THIS.]

LORELEI

[SHE GIVES A DRY CHUCKLE.] I don’t think Abigail likes you.

AGENT MAY

You mentioned the consequences were far greater than you could have imagined. Was that in reference to the loss of your friends?

LORELEI

Oh, don’t make me say it. It would have been one thing if I simply turned my entire coven into my own little petting zoo. Now, however, I can never escape my own errors, even if I were to leave them all behind. I am forever haunted by the marks my ability has left. The bear paw that has become of my left hand. The raven feathers in my hair. The spider eyes sprawled across my face. The venom that drips from my fangs and burns my lips. And oh, how disappointing having the tail of a cat is, despite how elegant I thought it would be when I was a little girl. Cats used to be my favorite animal. They aren’t anymore.

AGENT MAY

Don’t you think River would take offense to that?

LORELEI

Hm. Perhaps you’re right.

[A CAT MEOWS FROM INSIDE.]

AGENT MAY

How did you access Ether’s power?

LORELEI

The same way I’m sure most people have. We did a ritual. Just as most of them do, it went wrong.

AGENT MAY

Do you know where exactly it went wrong?

[A PAUSE.]

LORELEI

Can I be honest with you? I have had years to think long and hard about the events that transpired that night. I read through our plans over, and over again, hoping to find a way to undo it all. After all of that, I came to the conclusion that whatever fault it was—whatever slip of the tongue or missing ingredient it could have been—none of it would have mattered.

Ether chooses who to favor and who to damn by the luck of a draw. Flip of a coin. It knows no order. It will do what it pleases. It is not a person, or a sentient being—it is a random number generator that can grant unlimited power if you get lucky. It’s a lottery of stones, however. Nobody is ever really winning, even those as fortunate as the Forget-Me-Nots, or those well-off enough to never hear about Ether at all.

[A PAUSE, THEN] Do you have any other questions? I’m rather sure my pets are looking forward to their dinner.

AGENT MAY

Just one: where is the heart of Ether?

[A PAUSE.]

LORELEI

I would be careful, if I were you. I’ve heard things, rumors, about your little project. Though I doubt you fully understand the dangers, seeing as you’re just the worker bees, hm?

AGENT MAY

It’s not my place to question, I’m afraid.

LORELEI

Perhaps you should. Never does anyone any good, blindly following orders.

[AS THEY TALK, RIVER MEOWS, PURRING AS SHE RUBS AGAINST AGENT JUNE'S LEGS.]

AGENT JUNE

[WHISPERING TO THE CAT] Ah—hey! Go away! Shoo!

AGENT MAY

If you could answer the question, I promise we’ll be out of your hair.

LORELEI

Hm. I’m afraid I can’t be of much help. For years, people believed Ether resided in the sky, but that is untrue. Though, during the brief window Valencia was willing to speak to me, he did tell me he had a theory—

[AGENT JUNE CUTS HER OFF BY SNEEZING.]

AGENT JUNE

[MUTTERS] Stupid cat!

[RIVER HISSES.]

LORELEI

[OFFENDED] I would appreciate it if you did not insult my animals.

AGENT JUNE

[CONGESTED] Then tell River to leave me the hell alone. Can’t you control them, or whatever? At least use your freaky powers to—

AGENT MAY

[OVERLAPPING] Agent June—!

AGENT JUNE

I just want this damn—

[THERE’S A TENSE PAUSE AS HE REALIZES LORELEI IS GLARING INTENTLY AT HIM.]

AGENT JUNE

I mean, uh, this lovely cat, to uh…I’m so sorry, ma’am, this has been incredibly rude of me.

LORELEI

[A BEAT.] What was your name, again?

AGENT JUNE

Juh—uh, Agent June?

LORELEI

Agent June. [SHE SAYS THE NAME WITH DISDAIN.] Agent June, do you have a favorite animal, by chance?

AGENT MAY

[WHISPERING, PANICKED] Don’t say anything. Just thank her and let’s go before—

AGENT JUNE

[OVERLAPPING] I don’t know. Uh, have you ever heard of Sonic the Hedgehog?

LORELEI

[MIXED WITH CONFUSION AND DISGUST] Sonic. The Hedgehog.

AGENT JUNE

[NERVOUS RAMBLING] Yeah! I was obsessed with those games growing up, and so I went through this whole phase where I wanted a pet hedgehog really bad, but my parents never let me have one. Said I was too irresponsible, or whatever. That dream kinda, like, carried over into my adult life though?

LORELEI

[NODDING] So, hedgehogs.

AGENT JUNE

Um, sure.

LORELEI

I see.

[A PAUSE.]

LORELEI

I do hope you’re happy with that choice, Agent June.

[A HIGH-PITCHED RINGING IS HEARD AS SHE REACHES HER HAND OUT. AGENT JUNE STARTS SPUTTERING IN FEAR.]

[EERIE AND TENSE MUSIC BEGINS TO PLAY.]

AGENT JUNE

[TERRIFIED] What the—?

AGENT MAY

Shit.

[AGENT MAY IS HEARD PULLING OUT A DART GUN AND SHOOTING A TRANQUILIZER DART AT LORELEI. SHE CRIES OUT A BIT, BEFORE STUMBLING, AND THEN COLLAPSING.]

AGENT JUNE

Did you just tranquilize her?

AGENT MAY

I didn’t have a choice. Come on, get in the car. The full effect only lasts forty-five seconds.

[THEY BOTH FRANTICALLY CLIMB INTO THE CAR, SLAMMING THE DOORS AS THEY GET IN.]

AGENT MAY

Are you okay? Did she change you at all?

AGENT JUNE

[HYPERVENTILATING] No, no! But it—this really weird feeling washed over me, like, like my body was trying to fit into a smaller one, I—that was the worst thing I’ve ever felt, oh my god.

AGENT MAY

[ATTEMPTING TO SOOTHE] Agent June, calm down. You’re safe now, okay?

AGENT JUNE

Yeah, only because of you. You just saved my life. I mean, technically, I would have survived, but I would have had to live out the rest of my days as a hedgehog!

AGENT MAY

[FRUSTRATED] Maybe if you had been able to hold your damn tongue for thirty seconds, this wouldn’t have happened.

[AS HE TALKS, AGENT MAY STARTS THE CAR AND SPEEDS AWAY, THE TIRES SQUEALING.]

AGENT JUNE

I’m sorry I was having an allergic reaction!

AGENT MAY

That’s no excuse for you to have said the things you did. I told you to keep it together.

AGENT JUNE

Stop trying to blame all of this on me. I don’t care if it’s my fault, I almost just lost my humanity. Do you know how horrifying that was?

AGENT MAY

[HE INHALES SHARPLY.] No, you’re right. You’re not entirely to blame for what just happened.

If only she had at least finished her sentence about Valencia’s theory.

AGENT JUNE

[GUILTILY] Yeah, that was pretty poor timing, huh?

AGENT MAY

We’ll find out one way or another. Might have to go back to Irene Gray.

AGENT JUNE

Ah yes, the other enemy we’ve made in this town.

AGENT MAY

I guess we’re going to have to find a way to change that, then. [A BEAT.] Turn off the recording, please.

[SOME SHUFFLING AS AGENT JUNE MOVES TO TURN THE RECORDER OFF.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER BEEP.]

[EXT. LEMONGRASS PARK, NIGHT.]

[IRENE IS SITTING IN HER CAR. THERE ARE CRICKETS HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND.]

IRENE

I’m parked in front of Lemongrass Park. To be honest, I’ve never actually been here, even though it’s so close to my house. It’s small, but it’s a nice park. There’s a swing set, a seesaw, one of those metal slides that would always burn my skin during the summer. Some nice trees, too.

[REMINISCING] Do you remember when we would go to the park late at night? It was really stupid of us to go there after dark, honestly, it’s a miracle nothing ever happened. Well, I mean, you did hurt your leg that one time you fell off the swing, which I still feel bad about. It felt so serene, though. Like we were the only people in the world. We were still clinging onto our childhood innocence, and you, you were so fond of that park near your house, and I was so fond of the way you laughed. You’ll love this park, too, I think, if you ever get to see it. You always loved places where—

Wait, hold on, I think—I think Sadie’s waving at me. She’s sitting over on one of the swings. At least, I think it’s her? Not quite what I expected her to look like, but then again, I don’t know what I was expecting. She’s wearing all black, and has a striped shirt underneath her t-shirt, even though it’s hot as hell. Is this how emo kids dress these days? I think Aden said something about “e-girls” or something. [SHE SCOFFS.] Jeez, I need to start keeping track of these things. I feel so old.

She’s also wearing a black fabric surgical mask, with a white design? I’ve hardly seen people wear those outside of the medical profession—I mean, there was one time, but that was an outlier. [SHE SAYS THIS PART UNCOMFORTABLY BECAUSE THIS IS REFERRING BACK TO THE FIRST TRAILER.]

It must be her, though. Otherwise, why would she be waving at me? I have the box of film in the passenger’s seat. Avery and I talked today, and they were incredibly vocal about how bad of an idea this was, but they said I’m an adult and can make my own choices.

Avery is…well. I think they have good intentions at heart. They act indifferent all the time, and they’re incredibly mature, but they seem…I don’t know. Sometimes, there’s this, fear, maybe? That bleeds through when they speak. I think they try to hide it. Reminds me they’re still, technically, a kid.

Right, I feel kinda awkward sitting here while Sadie is staring at me. Guess I should get this over with.

[IRENE GRABS THE BOX OF FILM AND STEPS OUT OF HER CAR. SHE WALKS TOWARDS SADIE. WHENEVER SADIE TALKS, HER VOICE IS JUST SLIGHTLY MUFFLED.]

SADIE

[FROM AFAR] Irene, right?

IRENE

Yup!

SADIE

Wonderful!

[SADIE WALKS OVER TO IRENE.]

SADIE

I’ll take that.

[SHE'S HEARD TAKING THE CARDBOARD BOX FROM IRENE.]

SADIE

Looks heavy! How many photos did you take?

IRENE

[HANDING THE BOX OFF] Thank you, uh, I didn’t take these, though.

SADIE

I see. That’s a bummer. I thought I’d met a person of similar passions.

IRENE

Sorry to disappoint.

SADIE

Don’t stress it! Where did you get the film, then?

IRENE

[LYING] It’s from one of my dead relatives.

SADIE

Mm. Sorry to hear that.

IRENE

It was a while ago, so it's okay.

SADIE

They sure took lots of photos. Do you have any idea what they photographed?

IRENE

No clue.

SADIE

Well, I’ll do my best to get this developed. I’m staying with my uncle for part of the summer, and he never uses his dark room, so I have it all to myself. You know, he has this massive house, spends lots of money on rooms he never uses every time he gets a new hobby.

IRENE

Odd he chose Daughtler of all places to stick it.

SADIE

You know, that’s what I said! My professor went green with envy when I told her about it, though. She said this is a perfect town to take pictures.

IRENE

You’re a student, then?

SADIE

Yup! Majoring in photography, in case that wasn’t already clear. [SHE GIGGLES.]

Anyways, I’ll try to get this developed for you as quickly as possible. It may take a while, ‘cause there’s so much of it, so would you like me to give it to you in batches?

IRENE

That would be great, yeah. Um, thank you. Are you sure I can’t pay you?

SADIE

Oh, please, don’t worry about it. Like I said, I’m just thankful for the opportunity.

So, any other questions for me? I’m happy to answer them.

IRENE

Um, I have a bit of a weird one.

SADIE

Hm?

IRENE

Why are you wearing a surgical mask? Is it, like, a germ thing, or are you sick?

[THERE’S A PAUSE.]

SADIE

I should go get started on this.

IRENE

Um, you didn’t—

SADIE

[AGGRESSIVELY CUTTING HER OFF] Pleasure working with you, Irene! I’ll get back to you about your first batch ASAP!

IRENE

[TAKEN ABACK] Oh. Okay, then. Um, bye.

SADIE

Later!

[IRENE WALKS TO HER CAR AND CLIMBS BACK INSIDE. THERE'S A PAUSE.]

IRENE

Well, that was interesting, for lack of a better term. Sadie seems fine? I guess I just got a bit too personal with the mask thing. I mean, if it makes her feel comfortable, I don’t see why she can’t wear it. I’ll try not to worry about it. As long as she can develop the photos, that’s what matters.

Though I am kind of worried. I mean, Valencia could have taken, well, suspicious photos, assuming they’re connected to his research. I have no idea. I guess we just have to hope? Sadie seems pretty okay with minding her own business, it seems, so if I’m lucky, she won’t question it.

[HER PHONE STARTS VIBRATING.]

IRENE

Oh, hang on. Avery is calling me.

[A BEEP AS SHE ANSWERS.]

IRENE

Hello?

AVERY

Just making sure you didn’t get murdered.

[AS AVERY TALKS, THERE IS THE SOUND OF MASHING VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER BUTTONS AND JOYSTICKS.]

IRENE

[SHE SCOFFS.] Well, I didn’t. Sadie was fine. You really had nothing to be worried about.

AVERY

[DISTRACTED] I mean, it’s still a really bad idea to be meeting someone in the park this late. Daughtler is a small town, but even if we don’t have much of a problem with normal creeps, weird stuff is still kind of the norm, you know?

IRENE

Yeah, I’ve gathered that much, I—wait, hang on, are you playing video games right now?

AVERY

Dude, it’s just Stardew Valley. It’s not like I’m fighting anything.

[A RAVEN CAWS FROM THE GAME.]

IRENE

[AWKWARDLY] I don’t know what that is.

AVERY

That’s because you’re old.

IRENE

Hey.

AVERY

[OVEREXAGGERATED, FAKE] Ah no, I just got attacked! I gotta hang up, sorry Irene!

IRENE

You just said there’s no—

[AVERY HANGS UP.]

IRENE

[DEFEATED] …combat.

[SHE HUFFS.] Talk to you later, I guess.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER BEEP.]

[INT. THE APARTMENT ABOVE THE OPEN EYES BOOKSTORE, NIGHT. A BUDGIE IS OCCASIONALLY HEARD CHIRPING OR FLAPPING ITS WINGS IN THE BACKGROUND THROUGHOUT THE SCENE.]

[HOLLY IS HEARD SORTING THROUGH A GROCERY BAG AND SETTING THINGS ON THE COUNTER.]

HOLLY

Is it recording?

PHOEBE

Yes, it is.

HOLLY

Cool, cool. I got eggs, by the way. I know you talked about wanting to try to make pie at some point, and you were running low, so.

PHOEBE

[SLIGHTLY OVERLAPPING] Oh, um, thank you! Um, why were you out so late, anyways?

HOLLY

Hm? Oh, just a nighttime stroll.

PHOEBE

[WARY] I see.

[HOLLY WALKS OVER, AND SITS ON THE COUCH NEXT TO PHOEBE.]

HOLLY

Alright, then. You have the next letter? I guess all that’s left to do is open it.

[THERE'S A PAUSE AS HOLLY HESITATES.]

HOLLY

You sure you’re okay with me being in the room for this? I know her letters to you were, well, personal.

PHOEBE

It’s okay, don’t worry. I—I trust you. I’m sure Grandma Doe would, too.

HOLLY

[TENDERLY] That…that means a lot.

[A BEAT.] Go ahead, then.

[PHOEBE OPENS THE LETTER.]

PHOEBE

Phoebe, If you are reading this, I assume you have successfully completed the ritual. If it was not a success, well, I have a separate envelope marked for you to read. I suggest you find it.

HOLLY

Almost want to read the other one just to see what it says.

PHOEBE

[UNSETTLED] I don’t think that’s a good idea. If the alternative was that bad, well. I don’t want to think about what could have happened to me.

HOLLY

Fair, yeah. Continue.

PHOEBE

[SHE CLEARS HER THROAT.] If everything worked as well as I hope, then you have now stepped into your role as a Forget-Me-Not. I could not be more proud of you, little wildflower. What a lovely Forget-Me-Not you will be.

I have already warned you of some of the dangers, but now that this is your reality, I am going to begin to describe it all in more detail in order to prepare you. It is nothing I have not already mentioned in previous letters, however.

Now, let us start from the beginning: why did I name them the Forget-Me-Nots? Valencia thought it to be a rotten name. Too flowery, he said it was, too delicate. I believe it to be a sophisticated name. Better than the Hungry, or whatever other titles he’s come up with.

HOLLY

The hell is the Hungry?

PHOEBE

Um, I’m not sure. I’m sure we’ll find out?

HOLLY

Let’s hope.

PHOEBE

It goes on: Anyways, I called them the Forget-Me-Nots because it is not just about their quest for new knowledge. It is about the knowledge they already have. Sure, they know where to find any and all information, but what about that which is already within them? A Forget-Me-Not cannot forget anything. Even the tiniest detail, they will cling onto for the rest of their life. I still remember what I ordered at an Italian restaurant twenty-seven years ago. It was some mediocre chicken parmesan. The sauce was a bit too bitter for my taste, but I went back there because they had delightful breadsticks.

However, this is a double-edged sword. It is not just new information you will begin to retain. If only it was that simple. A Forget-Me-Not also remembers all which has happened before. This includes all of your life up to this point, from your early childhood, to more recent events.

When I chose you to be my predecessor, this is what I dreaded most. Your mother and I always considered it to be a blessing in disguise that you did not remember much of your childhood. I know you are aware of what happened, but the specifics are far worse than I think you’ve ever processed. I would not wish memories of that horrid time upon anyone, especially you. Your poor mother, my dear Agnes, she lives through them every day.

You may be forced to confront some of the memories of your father. The sick, rotten, vile man he was. I am eternally grateful I was able to save you from some suffering when you were a child, though I am deeply remorseful for all your mother put herself through. I wish I could be there to walk you through it all, to comfort you as you remember, but the circumstances are not in my favor.

You are stronger than you give yourself credit for, however, and you do not have to do it alone. Please do not hesitate to reach out to your mother if you find yourself needing the support. You could also talk to a friend—I’m assuming you have an abundance of those, you’re far too charming and sweet to not have any. Like I’ve said, isolation will only drain you of all you are. Nothing about this process will be easy, but I would not put you through it if I did not believe you could handle it.

Take your work slowly. Do not rush into it. Allow your mind to process the—

[PHOEBE SUDDENLY STOPS TALKING. THERE’S A LONG PAUSE.]

HOLLY

[A MIX OF CONFUSED AND CONCERNED] Phoebe?

PHOEBE

I— [A PAUSE, THEN] Sorry, sorry. Sorry. It’s just. [SHE TRAILS OFF.]

HOLLY

Is something wrong?

PHOEBE

Th—the letter, it’s just, um, got me thinking, I guess. About my father.

HOLLY

[CAUTIOUS] How much do you remember of him?

PHOEBE

[SHE GIVES A SHAKY CHUCKLE.] Oh, I’m trying to avoid that train of thought. I’m scared it will all come flowing in at once.

HOLLY

Oh, right, yeah. Try not to focus too much on it, okay?

PHOEBE

No, I’m okay, I just—I remember bits of it. More vividly, now, than I did before.

[WHAT FOLLOWS IS THE AFOREMENTIONED DESCRIPTION OF CHILD ABUSE. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.]

PHOEBE

Have you seen the stuffed cow sitting on my bed? It’s so old and worn, but it’s one of the most precious things I own. Its name is Baby. It’s, um, a silly name, I know. I used to play pretend with it, though, and act like I was its mother. I cradled it, pretended to feed it. So I named it Baby. [A BEAT, THEN] I didn’t remember why I named it that until now.

My dad hated Baby, though. He hated that I was so attached to a stuffed cow, of all things. He would constantly use Baby to threaten me, holding his ability to take it away over my head, because he knew that was a quick way to make me upset. If it was his choice, I’m sure he would have destroyed it. Not sure why he never did.

One day, when he was in a bad mood, and my mom was at work, I hid Baby inside my closet. He stormed into my room, and demanded for me to give it to him. I lied and said I had no idea where Baby was, but of course he didn’t believe me. He tore through my room, ignoring my pleas for him to stop, until he found Baby and took it away. I was forced to clean up the mess he made before my mom got home.

When she did get home, I instantly went and hugged her legs tightly and sobbed. I told her that Daddy had taken Baby away, and ruined my room. She asked me to take her to my room, so I did, only to find Baby sitting on the bed, staring right back at me.

My dad came in. “Of course I didn’t take the stupid toy,” he said. “She probably just misplaced it.” My mom didn’t argue. I was outraged. How could she believe him? Looking back, however, she knew something was wrong. I know she did. Even as a kid, I could read it on her face. He didn’t give her a choice, though.

[A BEAT.] He let me keep Baby, at least. Though he warned me not to try to tell mom what he did ever again. Otherwise, he would be very upset with me.

[A WET CHUCKLE.] And I didn’t even face the worst of it. I would spend days, weeks even, here with Grandma Doe when my dad was especially bad. That’s why her and I were so close, and why I didn’t remember so much of what my dad did. My mom had to endure most of it, though. That is, until she was finally able to get a divorce. He was arrested for a few years, I never learned what for, but I hope it was for the right reasons. When he got out, my mom got a restraining order against him.

The last time I saw him was my eighth birthday. He didn’t get me anything.

[THERE'S A LONG PAUSE.]

HOLLY

I’m going to kill him.

PHOEBE

[NERVOUS CHUCKLE] I—I appreciate you caring, but—

HOLLY

[A BIT TOO ANGRY] No. I mean it. If he’s still alive, I’ll kill him.

PHOEBE

[SLIGHTLY STARTLED] I don’t know if he’s still alive. I mean, it’s not like I’ve made an effort to reach out to him, heh.

HOLLY

[A PAUSE, THEN, SINCERE AND EMOTIONAL] I’m so sorry.

PHOEBE

It—It’s okay! Really. I promise. It was a long time ago. It’s just…I’m not sure how much I’m going to remember. As time goes on. I mean, I’m sure I would have been forced to confront my childhood eventually, this is just kind of speeding up the process.

HOLLY

You can always come to me, you know. If it gets to be too much.

PHOEBE

I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Holly. Really.

HOLLY

Of course. Anything I can do. [A PAUSE.] Would a hug be okay?

PHOEBE

[SHE TAKES A SHAKY BREATH.] A hug would be nice.

[THERE ARE FABRIC RUSTLES AS THEY ARE HEARD EMBRACING.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Today's quote is: "In every couple there is one who is the historian of the relationship."

Susan Sontag in Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1963.

[OUTRO MUSIC AND CREDITS PLAY.]

[AT THE END OF THE CREDITS, THERE IS A BRIEF, HIGH-PITCHED RINGING NOISE, THAT BEGINS TO BREAK UP BEFORE STOPPING ABRUPTLY.]

#heart of ether transcripts

1 note · View note

words-for-holland · 4 years

Text

The Songs in Our Life: It’s Not a Date

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Y/N & Tom learn more about each other on their night out together...but remember it’s not a date.

Inspired by: I Wanna Know You - Hannah Montana & David Archuleta

Album Description | Track 1 | Track 2 |

Waiting. It’s the action of staying where you are to delaying something until a certain time has come or something happens.

For instance, Y/N and Tom were due for a date at 5:40pm, and the wait was almost unbearable for them. Not that it was ever an official date....but the idea of seeing each other again the very same day brought a feeling of excitement. Something that neither had felt in a very long time. Seconds, minutes, and the remaining hours passed. Y/N had clocked out of work, shoved her laptop in her bag, and made her way down to lobby to meet Tom. As she approached the area, her steps slowed and ultimately stopping in her tracks. Seeing Tom, casually waiting brought a new found feeling. She smiled at him, already thinking about the possibilities of the if’s and’s & wants in her future, but immediately shook out the thought.

“C’mon Y/N it’s way too early to be thinking like this. You haven't even gone on a date with him yet and you're already thinking about a future. Jesus.” Y/N muttered to herself, verbally smacking some common sense into her brain.

As she continued to walk towards Tom, he looked up to meet her eyes and started walking to her direction. “Fancy seeing you here, darling.” he greeted with that boyish smile. He offered his hands, gesturing to allow him to carry her bag, but Y/N simply shook her head and declined the offer. “It’s okay. I got it.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Of course, but would it be okay if we stopped by my apartment to drop this off?” Y/N replied to him. “I really don't want to be carrying this around while I blow your mind with the best food in the city.”

Tom hadn’t replied to Y/N’s question, he was too busy thinking about..well...her. In his mind, he would have been more bold and responded to her question like ‘Aw, here I was hoping you were just going to invite me in to stay there and I can show you a really good time’. Or ‘Nothing blows my mind more than you’.

Instead what came out was “Yeah, sure that’s fine.” he smiled back, mentally slapping himself for not being able to pull off something smoother.

“Okay, let’s go. It’s not that far.” Y/N lead the way, with Tom following behind. There it was. That awkward-but-not-so-awkward tension coming up as the two walked in silence to Y/N’s apartment. Both knew it wasn’t an official date, so why was it hard to just strike a conversation? Y//N and Tom fought with their inner conscious as they tried to figure out how to make the first move. It was then when both Tom and Y/N, took a deep breath and said out loud their questions the same time.

They laughed at their failed attempts to strike a proper conversation, and tried to make it better by saying “You first.” in unison and then “No you.”

Tom gestured to Y/N to speak first. “So how was your press interview? Did you get in trouble for being late?” Y/N asked as they continued to walk the streets of 34th Avenue.

Tom looked at Y/N’s way, recollecting their first meet up. Indeed Tom was extremely late, but if he hadn’t been he wouldn’t be in this position right now with her. “Yeah it went well. I just got in a little bit of trouble, but it’s okay. Sometimes you’ve got to live a little dangerously.” he winked, which made Y/N’s cheeks display the most delicate shade of pink. “What about you? How was work?”

Y/N shrugged at his question. “Can’t complain. Im still new to the company, but the projects are fun and everyone’s welcoming and a pleasure to work with. Just hoping I dont mess it up.”

“Im sure you won’t. You dont seem to be that type.” Tom responds truthfully.

Y/N looks at him and smiles. “Oh? And what type do I seem to be?” She challenges him, but before he could speak, they make it to Y/N’s apartment.

She jiggles the key in and opens the door for Tom, allowing him to enter first. The first thing that catches his eyes are the cream colored walls and soft blue furniture accents. Papers are piled up on a table, and pictures of Y/N with her friends and family placed decoratively on the walls. Candles were lit and the T.V. was softly playing in the background. “Wow...this is really cozy.” Tom reacts, intaking the surrounding. “Though I must say I usually get invited inside the house on the second date.” He laughs at his sorry joke.

Thankfully Y/N’s sense of humor was extremely easy tonplease, and she laughed along with him, playfully hitting his shoulder. “Oh stop, I told you I need to set my stuff down. I —”

“Hey Y/N I was wondering what—” Y/N’s roomate and best friend comes in to the living room seeing a rare sighting of Y/N with a man. “Oh...I didnt know we had company.” She smiles, trying her best to contain her excitement for her best friend.

“Oh right.” Y/N closes her eyes briefly in hopes that her best friend doesnt embarrass her. “Um Tom this is Kaitlyn, she’s my best friend and roomate. Kaitlyn this is Tom H—”

“Believe me. I know who you are.” Kaitlyn smiles widely. “It’s...wow..a surprise really. Nice to meet you.”

“And it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Tom greets back shaking her hand.

“So are you two like...” Kaitlyn gestures as she squiches her hands together. “On a date?”

Both Y/N’s and Tom’s eyes widen, both of their cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. They knew it wasnt such a bad thing to consider, them being on a date and getting romantic. But they just met, neither wanted to risk the chance of screwing it up. “Of course not. I was just planning to show Tom around the city, since he’s not from here.”

Tom would be lying if he said his heart didnt drop just a little, but he wasnt going to let that show. Even though he wanted it to be so much more than a hang out. “Yeah, I figured why not....since we’re friends.” There it goes again..that awkward silence.

“Uh huh. Im sure you both will enjoy your friendly hangout. Y/N knows all the best places to eat.”

“I wouldnt doubt it.” Tom smiles.

“And we should get going...uhh Kaitlyn you’re welcome to join us if you want?” Y/N interjects as she and Tom get ready to go out.

“Oh. It’s fine! You two go out. Im good here.” Kaitlyn rejects and winks at Y/N.

Y/N rolls her eyes as she leads Tom out. Not far from her home, the two make it to Chelea’s Market, where they indulge in all things Italian. From the flavorful pasta, to the fresh steamy focaccia bread that comes right out of the stone oven. It was Y/N’s go-to place to impress anyone visiting. The food was great and the scenery outside was beautiful.

While the food was incredible, Tom’s prescence was where the real magic came to play. She could only imagine what hanging out with a celebrity would be like, but Tom was another story.

She took in how engaged he was with her stories about growing up in a small town in New Jersey with her family, how Kaitlyn and two other friends had stayed together since they were 6, and how her life had felt so barred until she moved here in the city, feeling free for the first time ever.

He was interested in all of it. Tom’s eyes looked at her with endearment, and his smile grew the more he heard about her most heart touching memories, his laugh becoming more robust and joyus when she told him a funny memory. He was falling for her, even though he didnt want to admit it just yet. While he got a good chunk of her life, he wanted to know more.

Y/N on the other hand, wanted to turn the tables. “So what about you?” She asked, as they both made their way to the High Line, warm latte in hand.

“What do you mean?” He questions back, displaying a coy smile.

“C’mon you know what I mean. What’s your story? And when I mean story I dont mean how you got famous.” Y/N explains as they continue walking.

Tom looked down at the ground, thinking. He couldnt remember the last time a stranger wiuld ask about his life, and not just the story about his career. “Well, I have 3 younger brothers. A set of twins named Sam and Harry and a younger brother name Paddy but we like to call him Padster. I lived with my best mate Harrison for 4 years. Love sports but golfing all time has to be my favorite. Ironically, Im terrified of spiders and I hate cheese.”

Y/N took in his 5 minute biography, and thought about how genuine he was. Just like she did, Tom gave stories about his brothers and best friend, and the more he talked the real he felt to Y/N. Their friendship was blossoming and in this moment nothing felt out of place. “Wow, you hate cheese?! Cheese is single-handely the best creation on this planet. I feel sorry for the girl that had to deal with that.” Y/N stopped her tracks, realizing what she just slipped in. She didnt mean to mention about a potential girlfriend he did or didnt have, it just...happened.

“Haha Im sure she doesn’t mind. She doesnt particulary like cheese either.” He plays along, but Y/N’s spirit started to lower. So there was a girl after all. She should have known.

“Oh, so there is a girl. Isnt there?” She speaks in a monotone.

“Of course! Tessa shes been with me for awile. Cheeky little dog, but I love her so much.” Tom laughs as he takes a sip of his coffee.

Y/N shook her head as she caught on his words. Dog? Upon realization, she shook her head looking down at the ground hiding her embarrassment.

“Sorry. I had to.” He continued to laugh, “but your face and attitude was priceless. Its almost as if you we’re jealous or soemthing.”

“What?! Me jealous?! Please.” Y/N tried miserably to play off.

“C’mon I saw those lips purse and that cute nose scrunch. You looked wee bit jealous.” Tom stated as he lifted her chin to meet his eyes. The moment was tense and silent but not akward. They took in each others features, lips getting closer, eyes slowly closing until... “It’s getting late.”Y/N whispered. Both let down by the moment being ruined.

Tom pulled away with a look of disappointment. “Yeah...you’re right. I’ll walk you back? My hotel is not far from your place.” He offered.

“Of course it’s not. It’s the tri-state area. Everything here is 30 minutes or less.” She jokes, trying to lighten the mood. “I would like that a lot.”

They continued to walk back home, side by side with light conversations. Almost forgetting their almost-kiss on their unofficial date. As they reached the steps of Y/N’s apartment. The two bid their farewell.

“Well I had a lot of fun tonight. Thank you Y/N.” Tom said smiling at her as he held her hand.

“Likewise. I cant remember the last time I had this much fun.” Y/N admits, hoping that this wouldnt be the first and last time she’d see him. “Maybe we can do this again?” She bravely suggests.

“I’d love that. See you soon, darling.” With that he kissed her goodbye on the cheek as he made his way to the hotel, but not until he made sure, Y/N got inside safely.

Proceed to Track 3.

Taglist (Send an ask or message to be added):

@horanxholland @peterspideyy @stan-ish230403 @averyfosterthoughts @eridanuswave @greatpizzascissorstaco

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

76 notes · View notes

hockeyownsmyass13 · 4 years

Text

Second Chances/Mat Barzal

Description: As All-Star Weekend drew close you couldn’t help but wonder if Mat would remember you. It was less than a year ago when you two had met in NYC. Now you were on your way towards your dream job as a sports journalist. And with this gig at the NHL’s ASG, the last thing you needed was to be distracted by Mat.

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: A few swear words

Author’s Note: I have a lot of Barzy feelings so I hope you guys like it. I have an idea for a part two might include smut if I’m feeling bold so please lmk what you think! Thanks for reading loves ☺️

Flashback

“How does this all work again?” you asked your best friend while putting on your makeup at her Manhattan apartment.

“I’m going to text Isaac when we get there and he’s coming to meet us and take us in. Usually they sit us at a table with a bunch of other girls and bring a bottle or two to start. From there it’s pretty much up to us, we can do whatever we want.”

This whole VIP clubbing experience was completely out of your element. Izzy, your former teammate in college and close friend had become a model since moving to the city. She knew guys like Isaac who were big time club promoters and could hook her up with pretty much anything NYC nightlife had to offer. You just tagged along for the ride.

Since you arrived at the club however you’d been able to relax. All Izzy’s friends were super nice and fun to be around. Between all the drinks and dancing however there was a group of guys who kept catching your eye. Izzy warned you that 1 Oak often had celebs but you weren’t quite sure if you’d seen them before. While the girls were dancing you took a break to rest your feet (heels hurt sometimes) and sat down at the table for another drink. That was when he approached you. You honestly didn’t even remember the first words he said. It was as if your brain had paused for a moment, wondering why a guy this attractive had come up to you.

“Mat” He said. You gave him your name, unsure if you should shake his hand or not. How do people greet at clubs anyways, you thought to yourself.

“Are you from here or just visiting?”

“I live in Boston, well Cambridge technically. I’m in my last year at harvard”

“Damn smart girl I see” Mat said. He seemed like he was flirting but also genuinely impressed at that name drop.

“I got a soccer scholarship, I’m not really that smart” you laughed back. “Izzy lives here, she was my teammate the last 3 years” you gestured towards her and the others dancing.

At first it was a little awkward but quickly you figured out how much you had in common.Talking about favorite foods, music, TV, and of course sports. The last subject was interesting. He seemed so excited at first yet turned around, seeming a little shy to give any details. .

After a little more conversation you followed him back to his table to grab a few more drinks, and that’s when you figured it out. The slight hint of a Canadian accent along with his friends all looking young and very in shape gave it away. This guy was definitely a professional athlete. You guessed hockey but didn’t want him to think you secretly knew who he was so you hid that guess.

“What sport do you play?” A little smirk dancing across your lips.

“How’d you know?”

“Educated guess”

“Hockey, we all play for the Islanders” He looked a little shy, running his fingers through his hair.

Internally you were freaking out just a bit. Growing up near Boston the Bruins were like a religion in your hometown. The NHL playoffs had always been your favorite time for any sport. There was just a level of intensity and excitement that couldn’t be matched. But on the outside you kept your cool...somehow. And after a little more chatting he pulled you over to the dance floor.

Eventually Mat’s friends were ready to head home and so were yours. He lived with an older teammate since it was his rookie season and you were crashing at Izzy’s place, so that small part of you who wanted to go home with him (even though you really don’t leave places with boys you’d never met before) was out of luck.

“I’d ask for your number but my phone died” He said, the cute shyness from when he confessed his job was back.

“Give me yours” you said, handing him your phone. Alcohol was certainly not a negative when it came to confidence.

But the next morning you woke up. And the insecure part of your brain convinced yourself he probably had lots of girls texting him every day and it wasn’t worth the possible embarrassment. Plus it was nearing the end of your trip to NYC and it was almost time to head back to school for senior fall; aka the last season of your college sports career.

So you never texted him, figuring he would forget soon enough and you could save yourself the heartbreak of falling for him just to find out you were only a number on his list. It wasn’t easy. Boys like that didn’t come around often. You looked at his name countless times in your phone, debating on calling. But the longer you waited the more it seemed weird to reach out. Would he ask why it took so long? Would he even remember you?

All star weekend

St. Louis was the perfect place to host. After winning the cup the city was buzzing with excitement over hockey. While you were a little nervous to be at such a big event, this wasn’t your first reporting experience. You’d done tons of interviews with other D1 athletes around campus and even filled in for a week as the rinkside reporter with the Bruins.

When you first entered the locker room on Friday it was impossible not to scan around for him. When Mat wasn’t there you couldn’t decide whether it was a relief or a dissapointment. There wasn’t a lot of time to dwell on things however, interviews needed to get done. It was mostly just fluff, funny questions for some social media content, You were talking to Sid, the usual polite yet unrevealing way of avoiding his private life, when someone entering the room immediately grabbed your attention. Mat had walked in. You could feel your heart start to beat faster. It could be the nervous anticipation of a potential awkward encounter. Thankfully your brain still worked and it quickly brought your attention back to Sid.

“And Conor McDavid comes up short. Mat Barzal is your new NHL All-Star fastest skater” The announcement rang loudly throughout the arena.

Mat won. Mat just won. It kept repeating in your mind like an echo. Because you knew what that meant. You had to interview him. He was laughing with some of the other guys as you watched the producer approach him. Chatting with the cameraman seemed a good option to avoid looking like you were starring in his direction. As he walked towards you his expression was blank.

“Congratulations on winning the first event of day one. How does it feel to know you dethroned a three time winner?”

Silence. Your eyes widened, hoping to provoke an answer.

“Um yeah it’s pretty cool. Conor’s a really fast skater so I feel a little lucky.”

“I know you guys don’t get much time to warm up. Is the crowd a big energizing factor in something like this?”

“Sure” Silence again.

“Uh I mean we’re here because of the fans. So uh yeah we want to do our best and give them a good show”

The rest of the interview went about the same. You were sure the others watching could feel the awkwardness in the air. Although he didn’t show any signs of recognizing you, Mat wasn’t known for being cold towards reporters. Something must have been your fault for the less than stellar interview which thankfully was over.

“Y/N”

It wasn’t a question but more of a statement. You looked down at your feet, even though you’d been looking him in the eyes the whole interview. It was a little late for shyness but the absence of the cameras and knowing he recognized you took away any semblance of confidence you previously had.

“Hey Mat”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

Shit. You knew this question was coming but you’d hoped he would at least make some small talk first. Maybe enough to give you a chance to think of an answer. But now he looked just as worried as you, running his fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I just….I don’t know, I enjoyed talking to you that night and I just figured you would and then you never did and I couldn’t do anything,,,,” He trailed off getting quieter at the end,

“I’m sorry, You’re not crazy Mat. I had a really great time that night. I’m not sure what to say. I know it’s a stupid excuse but I was leaving to go home to Boston so soon and I just convinced myself you were, ya know, this impressive star athlete and it wouldn’t matter if I never said anything because you would forget which I know isn’t fair since you’re a perfectly nice guy and..”

“Come to dinner tonight.” He cut you off.

“I’m supposed to go out with some of the other guys but a lot of them have family or girlfriends coming too. So you won’t be crashing guys’ night or anything.”

“t’ll be low key don’t worry” He added, sensing your hesitation.

“Okay, I’ll go”

“I have to get back, but text me and I’ll send you the details”

“Sounds great” Biting your lip did not do enough to hide the smile growing on your face. It was a group dinner, but no matter how you looked at it, you were going to dinner with Mat Barzal. Who ever said second chances don’t exist.

#hockey fanfic #mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #hockey imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #nhl imagine #my writing

95 notes · View notes

kasdeyathebitterwoman · 4 years

Text

Running Mate - Part 9

Hello, hello, hello! After a good while, part 9 of the running mate series is here! I hope you all like it! I have been taking requests and loving it, so if you have any Henry fix requests, I’d be more than happy to hear them!

Story idea: While running in the English countryside, Henry meets a fun documentarian and sparks fly.

Word Count: 4,032

Adult, 18+, NSFW

CW: sexual intercourse, penetration

@maeleeme @andyrazzledazzle @fanfictionaddiction99 @henrycavillluv32 @jhenno2002 @blossom-a @xceafh @oddsnendsfanfics @severuined

The rest of your time spent on the island was at the mercy of Henry’s schedule and Henry planned a lot for you. His version of relaxing was either playing video games, beating his brothers at board games, and/or walking everywhere. It’s not that you minded walking, but cars were invented for a reason! Regardless, you followed Henry anywhere he took you and he took you to several places. He took you to the north coast cliff paths where you walked with Kal for several hours one day. Henry told you all kinds of stories about growing up with his older brothers here. In return, you shared stories about life on the farm with your family.

Of all the places you explored, your favorite though, was a tie between the Mount Orgueil Castle and La Hougue Bie. They were two historical sites on the island, the latter being one of the oldest buildings in all of mankind. Henry played right into your love of history and schedule private tours of both locations. You hounded the tour guide for more and more information, ignoring the smiles and smirks from Henry.

You were also actively avoiding newspapers and social media. Paparazzi photos of the two of you on the beach the other night were circulating and causing a ruckus. While it didn’t bother you one way or the other, you knew it was bothering Henry. Especially because they were starting to say particularly nasty things about the both of you. There was much speculation behind the secrecy of your relationship, as if you owed anyone an explanation. Henry took it all in stride, but you could see what it was doing to him.

After La Hougue Bie, Henry took you to a little pub that was part of another historic site. The owner of the pub came out to speak with the two of you and you were able to grill him as well. Henry smiled the whole time, enjoying how focused you could be on something. When y’all had finished eating, it was late in the day. There was still time to do more, so Henry took you around Plemont Bay. The tide was coming in, unfortunately, so you weren’t able to explore the caves under the cliffs, but that was okay. The views from the cliffs themselves were stunning. You stopped occasionally to just take in the beauty. Jersey really was unlike any place you had ever been. Somewhere along the coastline, Henry stopped you.

“Come here,” he said, gesturing for you. You step lightly over to him and accept his open arms for an embrace. You loved the way his arms wrapped around you and the way you fit against him. You never missed an opportunity to be embraced by those trunk-like arms. For a moment, Henry let go of you and you turn around so your back is pressed against his abdomen.

“It’s beautiful here,” you say mostly to Henry, but also to no one in particular. Henry chuckles and leans down to kiss the top of your head.

“I’m glad you like it here,” he murmurs to you and you smile. Then you pull your phone out of your bag and open the camera to take a picture of the scene in front of you.

“It won’t do this view justice,” you say. “But I want evidence that I was here,” you glance up at Henry who is smiling at you. Then he pulls out his own phone and holds it up in front of you. “Your camera is facing the wrong way,” you say, pointing out the fact that it’s facing you and not the water.

“Nope,” Henry says, bending down to fit himself in frame with you. He situates his phone so he can snap a picture. Right as he’s about to you make a ridiculous face. The final product is Henry smiling sweetly while you are making a stupid face. Henry checks out the photo and laughs. He kisses you on the temple before standing back up. He looks down at his phone then shows you.

“That’s one heck of a face,” you say and Henry snorts, nudging you.

“Be nice,” he murmurs. “I don’t think you’ve ever looked better,” he adds in a sugary-sweet tone. You smirk up at him.

“I was talking about you,” you reply and Henry snorts again.

“Shut up,” he mutters as you bellow with laughter. He smiles wide at you, watching as you radiate with joy. Then he pulls you in and kisses you deeply, passionately. You accept his kiss and his embrace with equaled passion.

“Whoa nelly,” you say a little breathlessly, coming up for air. Henry smiles and chuckles a little.

“I’m sorry, I’m just,” he says pausing. “I am in love with you, y/n,” Henry murmurs, one hand gently caressing the side of your face. You smile at him.

“You told me this already,” you tell him, looking up with raised eyebrows.

“I know,” he smiles. “Here’s something I haven’t told you,” he looks down at you, smiling gently. “I am heels over head in love with you. I think you are the most incredible woman I’ve been with,” you can’t contain a snort at that declaration. Henry looks at your confused as your ears begin to burn red with embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

“What?” Henry asks. You look up into his blue eyes and sigh.

“It’s just, well, Henry, I’ve seen the other women you’ve been with,” you begin. “I know that I’m not the prettiest or the smartest or the most accomplished,” you say, not noticing Henry increasingly furrowed brow. “I know that I’m not ‘the most incredible woman’; not by a long shot,” you explain, finally looking up at him. The expression he’s giving you makes you feel like apologizing for existing.

“Why would you think that?” Henry asks and you can hear every ounce of pain in his voice. You suck in a breath.

“Because,” you pause, unsure of how you want to proceed. “Because I’m not blind, Henry. I’m not ignorant,” you sniffle a little, holding back tears. “Like I said, I’ve seen who you’ve been with. I have seen the posts about Lucy and how you still talk about her in interviews,” you explain and watch Henry’s expression change from concern to something resembling guilt. “I’m not an idiot,” you start to say but Henry cuts you off.

“I never said you were,” he says and you shake your head.

“I know, I know you didn’t,” you reply. “What I’m trying to say is I’m not stupid. I know that I’m not an impressive woman on my own, that’s why I mask everything with sarcastic comments and humor,” you explain. “If I can keep them laughing, they won’t notice that I’m actually not that great,” you add, ashamed of yourself for even thinking it. You dare a glance up at Henry’s eyes and see they are storming. His jaw his rolling as he processes what you have just said.

“You are a successful filmmaker; you are a college graduate; you are an award-winning documentarian with a potential Oscar nomination for your first film; you have another major project in the works with a major production company,” he says not looking at you. Then his eyes dart to yours. “You are not any of the women I’ve been with before because you are,” he pauses. “You are y/n. The woman that makes me laugh constantly. The woman that has never once made me feel like a celebrity that owes her something,” he takes a breath and looks at you intently. “You got everything you have because you’ve worked, hard, for it. You are the most incredible woman I’ve been with because you are nothing like the women I’ve previously dated,” he says and you can’t stop the sob that escapes you. Immediately, Henry wraps you up in a bear hug. He strokes your hair and shushes you in his calming way. After a moment of overwhelming emotions, you pull back from and chuckle.

“Surprise,” you say sardonically. “My confidence is completely false and made up,” you attempt to laugh through your tears and sniffles. Henry doesn’t laugh, he just uses his hand to gently push your chin up so you are looking him in the eyes. “I told you. Because of you I have all these feelings and they confuse me,” you say, laughing a little. Henry smiles ever so softly.

“There is nothing confusing about the way I feel about you,” he says quietly. “I am in love with you - completely, undoubtedly, and irrevocably,” he looks at you with those blue eyes that could rival the water behind you. “And besides, I’m not the most confident bloke either,” he adds, smiling at you gently. You chuckle a little.

“That’s exactly something that someone who is Superman personified would say,” you mutter and Henry laughs. “I know you’re not perfect, but you’re damn near close,” you say looking into his eyes. He smiles at you, scoffing just a little.

“You’re pretty close to perfect as well,” He says to you quietly and you snort.

“Not even,” you reply and Henry shakes his head.

“You’re perfect for me,” he adds and you pause, looking up at him. A breeze brushed against your skin and you shivered slightly.

“If we’re not careful, there will be even more photos of us together in the rags,” you say to him, but he just shakes his head.

“I don’t care,” he replies. “Let them see us together. I’m yours, completely, and the world can just figure out how to deal with that,” he explains and you break out a beaming grin. “Come on,” he adds, reaching for your hand. The two of you begin walking again along the side of the cliffs and you feel something close to contentment radiate throughout your body.

Later that night, Henry invited Charlie and his wife out to dinner with the two of you. The four of you went to a local restaurant where everyone spent the night eating, drinking, and laughing. Henry took your sarcastic comments and snarky teasing in stride, often teasing you right back. When everyone was done, you all walked around the area. Henry and Charlie share story after story about growing up together, pointing out different areas that are the same and different from their youth. You loved seeing how happy Henry was with brother. He was almost a different person around his family and it was incredible to witness. The night ends back at the Cavill residence with you falling asleep in Henry’s arms. Your head rests on his shoulder while his arms wrap around your body loving. He holds you close, finding complete enjoyment with the fact that your small frame is pressed tightly against his. Gently, he strokes your hair, feeling as your whole body relaxes into his. He lets his hand softly caress your shoulder and down your back. Your body instinctively shivers at his touch. Henry can’t help but smile.

He knew how scared you were to admit your feelings. It wasn’t something that bothered him because he understood well what you were going through. He knew he was guilty of confusing lust with love and vice versa in past relationships. He’d made assumptions, had poor judgment and flat out been wrong. But he knew what he felt for you wasn’t misunderstood or mistaken. He was in love with you and it had nothing to do with your physical attributes. Yes, you were a naturally beautiful woman with external features that turned heads. But it wasn’t what made him fall in love with you. It was your sense of humor and the way you viewed the world. It was because of how much you loved history, family, and learning. Even the way you drank your coffee, holding the mug with two hands as if you needed to grasp the mug for dear life. Kal snored loudly and shifted in his sleep, breaking Henry from his trance. He sighed and shifted, pressing your body further into his. He fell asleep thinking of different ways he could make you feel as special as you made him feel.

—

When it was time to get back to England, it was done so with a heavy heart by everyone. Henry’s parents were sad to see you leave. Marianne told you repeatedly that you were welcome back at any time. Colin shook your hand and hugged you tightly, a move that seemed to surprise Marianne, Henry, Charlie, and Simon.

“What happened between you and my dad?” Henry asked when the two of you were on the plane headed back to England. You looked at him confused.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“My dad doesn’t hug just anyone,” Henry states. “He’s normally very reserved, but you,” he trails off unsure of what he wants to say. You chuckle.

“What can I say, I guess he just likes me more,” you reply, smirking at him. He smirks back, scoffing. The rest of the flight proceeds mostly in silence. Henry is reading through a possible role to accept while you read through a book about ancient Peru. Back in England, Henry helps collect your research from his house then drives you back to your flat. The door barely has time to close before Henry is on you. His mouth immediately finds yours, his hands running up your back to your breasts. With his tongue, he parts your lips while your hands snake around his broad shoulders so you can lean deeper into his embrace.

“How long have you been waiting to do that?” you ask when he finally pulls away from your lips.

“A while,” he smirks and you laugh before pulling him back for another kiss. Without any effort, you tug on Henry’s hand and pull him toward your bedroom. In moments, you are both stripped of your clothes and you have pulled Henry down onto the bed. Your back arches and your toes curl into the mattress when Henry pushes himself into you. He lets out a sigh of relief as he feels your walls wrap around his length. “God, I missed you,” he breathes, rocking his hips into yours.

“You got your rocks off almost every night,” you say gasping a little as Henry goes deeper into you. “How on earth could you have missed me?” you ask before groaning a little. Henry smirks.

“The feeling of being inside you,” he begins, grunting as he thrusts. “And seeing what it does to you. That’s what I missed,” he says before pulling out and flipping you over. You are now on all fours with your ass in the air pointed straight up at Henry. He grabs a hold of your hips and pushes in past your folds.

“Fuck,” You groan loudly as you feel every inch deep inside you. Henry grunts as he pumps his hips rhythmically. Desperately, you clutch the sheets as Henry pushes deeper and deeper into you. “Henry,” you gasp. “Henry,” you repeat, feeling yourself climaxing quickly. Henry’s hands grip tighter on your hips as he continues with fast, repeating thrusts. You can feel yourself clenching around him. He feels it too and he moans with pleasure. With a final grunt and thrust, Henry finishes. He hangs on to you for a moment before getting up, not without a pop to your butt cheek. You yelp in surprise as you collapse on the bed, huffing and breathing heavily. Henry hands you a towel so you can quickly clean up, then lays down next to you, softly running his fingers up and down your back. You prop yourself up on your elbows and look over at the hunk of man that is laying in your bed, completely naked and exposed.

“So tell me, Ms. Award-Winning-Documentarian,” Henry begins, smiling at you. “What do you want to do for your birthday?” he asks. You squint at him.

“My birthday is still weeks away,” you reply and Henry bobs his head in agreement.

“Yes,” he agrees. “But I want to know what you want to do so I can plan for the exact opposite,” he says and you laugh.

“Honestly, do you want to know where I’ve wanted to go ever since I was a little girl?” you ask.

“More than anything,” Henry replies genuinely and you smile.

“Dollywood,” you say, sighing. Henry looks at you intrigued.

“Right. What on earth is Dollywood?” Henry asks and you giggle.

“I’m so glad you asked. It’s the hillbilly Disney World!” you exclaim. Henry’s reaction is a snort with some head shaking. “Dollywood is a theme park and resort created by Dolly Parton herself,” you explain. Henry nods is head though he clearly doesn’t understand.

“Why do you want to go there?” he asks. You glance at him and smile.

“Why does anyone want to go anywhere?” you toss back at him. “Dollywood just sounds like a magical place and it would be a dream come true to see Dolly’s real, humble beginnings in the middle of an empire that she built herself,” you say. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see a warm smile spread across Henry’s face. He leaned down to plant a soft kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“My underdog loves an underdog,” he murmurs, leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder.

“Mhmm,” you reply, giggling. Henry wraps his trunk-like arms around you and you rotate your breasts are pressed against his chest. You rain down a flurry of kisses across collar bone, feeling every breath and giggle that escapes him. Once you’re done, you look up at him and into his beautiful blue eyes when you suddenly realize you don’t want him to leave.

“What?” he asks, noticing the expression on your face.

“I just thinking about my birthday,” you say. “You’re going to take me somewhere like, Disney World instead, aren’t you?” you ask disdainfully and Henry bellows.

“Rats, you foiled my plan,” he replies, then he gently strokes the side of your face with one hand. “What’s really going on?” he asks and you sigh deeply.

“You’re going to take this the wrong way, but,” you start. “I kind of enjoyed waking up next to you,” you say as nonchalantly as you possibly can. Henry smiles.

“That’s it? That’s the only thing you like?” he asks teasingly.

“Yep, that’s it. Nothing else. Definitely not the way you touch me,” you say as Henry’s hand trails down past your jaw, across your collar bone and along your breast. “For sure not the way you kiss me or make me feel,” you add while Henry proceeds to lean down and kiss your jaw and then your neck. You smile at the sensation. Henry leans back up and looks you in the eye.

“You know you could move in with me,” Henry says to you quietly.

“Yeah, but that would require you having to clear out the closet with all your ex-girlfriends' things and I’d have to toss that unmarked box in the Thames,” you say and Henry scoffs. “Then I’d probably have to kill you because I just told you about that box,” you add. Henry bellows and you smirk up at him.

Reluctantly, the two of you finally get up out of bed. Henry puts his clothes back on and you get dressed in an old sweatshirt and shorts. Henry looks you up and down before pulling you close to him. He kisses you softly at first, but that kiss quickly turns passionate.

“For the record,” Henry states. “I’ve only ever lived with one other girlfriend and that was back in LA. So I’ve got nothing to hide or toss out,” he says.

“Oh, well, in that case. I was totally making it up about the unmarked box and the Thames,” you say quickly. Henry chuckles then gives you another sweet and passionate kiss.

When he’s finally gone, you stand in the living room and look around. Something is making you feel uncomfortable until you realize it’s the silence. Your place is too silent. Henry isn’t humming to himself. Kal isn’t getting into things and making a ruckus. Sighing, you collapse onto the couch.

Randomly, you pull out your phone and begin scrolling through apps. You check the email folder to see no new notifications. You check Facebook and find your sister in law, Rebecca, has posted several photos of your niece and nephews. Finally, you scroll through Instagram. On a whim, you open Henry’s account and see multiple reposts from your documentary account, promoting your film. Every post has an encouraging comment from Henry about how great the film is or how well it was produced. You smile at his obvious show of support and then you see it when you scroll back to the top. Somehow you missed it at first, but now you can’t unsee it. There is a selfie of Henry, standing with his back to a field of lavender. One of the touristy places Henry took you in Jersey was the lavender fields. It was one of the most beautiful places you had ever seen. Apparently, Henry had snapped a selfie of himself with his back to the field. And behind him, there you stood. You were facing the other way, so all that was seen was the back of your head, but there was no mistaking your form. He added only one hashtag to the image - #touristythings. You chuckle and double-tap the screen to like it.

While staring at the image, an idea occurs to you. Neither you nor Henry had made an announcement about your relationship and frankly, neither of you had any intention of doing so. However, clearly, Henry was comfortable sharing suggestive images of you so you decided to follow suit. Plus, it would be fun to see just how many people freaked out. Scrolling through your images, you found one that Henry’s assistant had taken of the two of you at Cannes. She’d sent you the image afterward and it made you actually laugh out loud. Henry was looking handsome as ever, but you were just a blur. Something had caught your attention at the last second and you turned, resulting in your face being obscured. You laugh to yourself as you type out the caption for the image.

“There’s a reason I stay behind the camera #picturesarehard”

You chose not to tag Henry because there was no mistaking him. For a second, you hesitate to upload the image. You saved the image as a draft and texted Henry.

Would you mind if I uploaded this image? You send the image along with the text and wait. Moments later, he responds.

I think that would no longer make you an ‘unidentified woman’ ;) he says and you snort.

A hit to my image that I’m willing to take ;P you hit send and chuckle at your own ridiculousness.

Oh yeah? Well, that’s a hit I’m willing to take as well he replies. You scoff at the message.

A hit you’re willing to take? you toss back.

Yeah. Being seeing with a soon to be identified woman who can’t even take a decent picture looks pretty bad for me

You read the message through two times before busting out with laughter. Shaking your head, you bite your bottom lip and type out a response.

Guess you’re going to have quite a bit of damage control to do on your image then you say, hitting send and chuckling. Navigating back to the app, you find the saved draft and click post. You know what’s at stake and the longer you think about it, the more you begin to realize you don’t care. Henry is the man you love and you were beginning to realize that significant parts of your relationship were being tested. You go back to your messages with him.

Ask me about moving in with you on our 1 year anniversary, you hit send and take a deep breath in. Your phone chimes.

Deal, Henry replies and you smile.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #long form fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #meowpurrbooks writing #henrycavillxreader #henrycavillxfemmereader

92 notes · View notes