#totally wasn’t inspired by how I carry in groceries

[spoofyleaf]

Carrying in groceries.

Carrying it all in one trip isn’t about proving strength OR about pride. It’s totally just about making less trips.

I have zero idea how to draw kids :”)

[mistresskayla-blog1]

Awkward & Sweet

A John Standring Fic

Lyn's Writing Event Day 9 - Week 2

May 9th: Week 2: Pluto

Characters: (“Modern day” Alt) John Standring x OC Felicity Boies (scottish)

Fandom: Richard Armitage – John Standring – Sparkhouse

Sparkhouse character, John Standring was created by Sally Wainwright (adaptation of Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights) 

***Just proof that there’s a fan girl in all of us. Never forget that writing allows you to inspire others to write ***

Location: Date at the Planetarium – West Yorkshire / Leeds area UK

Word count: 2.1k

Timeline Prompt: What if John had met someone before Carol’s father had died, and she came back?

Warnings: angst, pining, awkwardness, first date stuff, kissing, shy male, social masking.

              John walked up the street to the grocer, as he did every Friday morning after working at the factory. He got his bread, and some veg and a few other things, nothing much varied in his routine. But he kept going every Friday because of one other thing, to see Felicity. She was tall, lean and sweet natured, her hair kept in a ponytail for work, and John wondered idly as he stood in queue what it looked like down her back, long and blowing in the Northern winds.

Her playful Scottish brogue, warmed his heart on this cold fall morning, as she said, “Morning John, how do you fair?”

John stuttered a bit, smiling, “Good, ya? And you?”

Felicity looked at the backed-up queue behind him, “Just fine. I’ll be off soon, got to go to the doctors”.  John shifted to a look of concern, “Oh? Is anything the matter?” Felicity rung through his choices and clicked the register for a total. John thrust a hand full of notes into her hand, with come coins. Felicity answered briskly, “No, just my regulars, you know,”

John responded in kind, “Yeah, sure of course. Well, have a good day then, Cheers”. John grabbed his bags and started towards the door, turning back a second, the next women in line looking at him slightly annoyed. “Look, if you have some time, I’d like to take you out, maybe tomorrow?” The women in queue looked down realizing John’s advance on Felicity.

Felicity paused, but not unflatteringly as she smiled at John, “Yeah. Sure. Come back around, I’ll give you my number”. John smiled broadly and nodded, “Yeah, sure. Of course”. And went back into the line. The line of patrons now smiling at him. John tried his best to look inconspicuous, but it wasn’t going to work that morning. Felicity kept smiling towards him, as his turn in queue inched forward for the next few minutes. When he finally was in front of her again, she scribbled her name and number on a scrap of receipt paper and placed it in his hand.

John asked plaintively, “Where do you fancy going?” Felicity winked, “how about the Planetarium, there’s a show on this weekend”. John nodded, “Right. Yeah, of course”.

Felicity touched his hand again, “ring me tonight?” John nodded, smiled and walked out of the grocer. Felicity smiled too, as he stroud out of the store.

John was a nice man, she always thought so. He had been coming to the store on Fridays since, she started working there, she thought, but probably longer. He’s a creature of habit, she imagined, and Felicity needed more consistency in her life. She had her own apartment, and she lived in the city, she wasn’t sure if John did too. She only saw him at the shops on Fridays, and hardly any other time around town. Felicity finished her shift and headed for the doctor’s office on foot.

John returned to his house in town, put away his groceries and sat at his kitchen table, having some cold muesli with milk. The crunching and chewing sounds filled his ears in the quiet of the flat. That chewing was hypnotic as his mind carried back to Felicity’s smile and his future engagement with her, “engagement,” he scoffed outloud, “I sure hope I can manage to not make a fool of myself at the Planetarium”. John found the pages and looked up the phone number for the Planetarium. A women answered and he asked about the schedule for the event.

“It starts at 7 pm, its about 20 pounds per person, at the door, day of the show”. The registrar said. John thanked her and hung up. John was a traditional sort, and figured offering to pay for her ticket, even in this day and age was still appropriate. John made arrangements to buy them online with his mobile phone, a ratty little Nokia that he didn’t do much with. Who was he going to call, he didn’t have many friends, he just kept himself, kept his head down and worked nearly everyday.

---

At around half 6, John rang Felicity, sitting in his living room, still surrounded by knick knacks from his grandparents. It had that quaint lady’s touch, but it was far from modern. The phone rang out twice before she answered, “Felicity?” John asked.

“Yes?” her Scottish lilt made him smile.

“Its John from the shops”, he looked down at the floor a second, catching his courage.

“Oh, yes, John. How are you?” Felicity replied.

“Good, good, ya. Just wanted to let you know about the planetarium, um date you asked about”.

“Yeah, sure. So how much is it? I just wanted to make sure I could cover it”, he could hear her smile over the phone.

“Oh, no worries, I can cover it, if that’s ok with you?” John offered.

“Oh?” Felicity paused,

“You wouldn’t, you know be owing me anything. I wanted to do this right and take you out, proper”.

Felicity visibly relaxed, “That sounds nice, John. Thank you”.  

Smiled, “Great! Well the show starts at 7, can I pick you up at half past, or do you want to grab a bite before at the pub?”

Felicity wavered, “You can pick me up here, that’s fine,” she looked around her flat then, trying to figure out how to straighten up in time, “you can pick me up John, I’ll text you the address”.

John smiled, “Great, that’s great. Ok, well I’ll see you tomorrow, then, and Felicity,”

“yeah?”  Felicity responded.

“Thanks”. John grinned eagerly as he hung up the phone. He went to his closet and tried to find something intelligent to wear. After about 30 minutes most of his wardrobe was strung over his bed and he just stood in front of his mirror looking dumbfounded.

---

Felicity started to clean up her apartment and set out an outfit for tomorrow night. What would she wear, she wondered. John is a nice, stand up guy, not like some of the scrubs she dated before. She had to try harder to look nicer. Her auburn hair and blue eyes were striking as she picked up a cobalt blue blouse, it buttoned up to a high collar, “Maybe a little too high?” she spoke to her mirror, she tried it on, and left a button undone, feeling a bit more certain. She found a skirt, with pockets, and some leggings. Heeled boots finished off the ensemble, she looked herself over in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door.

“Yeah, that should do it”. She put everything on her desk, next to her bed, the boots on the floor, in front of it.

---

John was standing in front of his mirror at the same moment. He had picked out a decent dress shirt, and lean trousers, sensible boots. John looked confident in that moment, and removed the clothes, slowly, folding them neatly for tomorrow, and setting them on his bedside chair. He re-dressed on his pajamas and started his dinner for the night and watched some telly. A program was speaking about the incident of declassifying Pluto, John sat up a little bit, wanting to learn more, maybe this was the clue to impress Felicity. He didn’t know anything about planets otherwise. John watched it until he fell asleep on his grandfather’s old chair.

---

(I will add to this, just ran out of time. Comment if you want more. thanks)

@evenstaredits @legolasbadass @sweetestgbye @middleearthpixie @lathalea @riepu10

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Lyn's Writing Event 2024!!!

[flyiingsly]

Remember me

Square : Music

Pairing : Hunter x gn!jedi!reader

Warnings : mention of alcohol, mention of Order 66 and memories from the Clone Wars, a bit of angst but mostly fluff i guess, half confession, these two idiots are in love but not ready to say it out loud

Wordcount : 5,1k

Summary : When Hunter unexpectedly heard you sing for the first time, he instantly fell in love with your voice, and even more with you.

A/N : Here we are, my fourth submission for the @clonexreaderbingo ! This fic is one of my favorites among those that I wrote for the CFB honestly, because I really love the songs that have inspired it, and because, I don't know, that prompt suited Hunter very well in my opinion, and I'm really happy with how it turned out :D

Disclaimer : I'm still struggling to understand English grammar properly, English is not my native language and even if I have proofread my writtings several times, there is probably still typos in it. I'm very self conscious about it and I apologize for it in advance, but I'm doing my best to do better and I'm actively working at improving my writting skills !

So if you spot a typo, feel free to point it to me so I can correct it, it will be much appreciated :)

Before you start to read, go check the two songs that are featured in this fic :

(This one is one of my favorites feel good songs EVER ! THAT VIBE IS AWESOME OMG !!!)

(And this one is a cover of "Remember Me" from Coco by the wonderful Annapantsu, this song is haunting and beautiful, and I particularly love her version, she is sooooo talented !! Go check her channel, really, it's all gold !)

***

Today was supplying day for the Marauder crew. You and the Batch has just returned at Ord Mantell after your last mission for Cid. She paid you the credits she owed you, so it was time for some groceries and equipment shopping.

As usual, you split into two teams : the one going in town for groceries, and the one staying at the ship to tidy and clean the interior space.

It was a tradition inherited from the time of the Republic : every Clone battalion had to go for a cleansing day every now and then to keep their barracks organized and fit to live in. To be honest, it wasn’t really part of the Clone Force 99 habits to maintain their room on Kamino. In fact, it was mostly your idea to establish a cleansing day. Of course, Echo had already tried to force the idea on them long before you became part of the team, but they weren’t enthusiastic about it, so he just ended giving up.

But since Omega and you have joined them, they have finally realized that it was much needed, to keep the place they were living in in a somewhat decent state. And this time, it was to the two of you to fulfill that mission.

***

“Tech, are you sure we haven’t forgot anything ?” Echo asks his brother, who was scrolling on his datapad to check if all the items from the groceries list are crossed.

“Affirmative”, he answers, “we have everything we need to eat and to keep the Marauder flying for at least ten more rotations !”

“Good, let’s go back home then.”

As they approached the ship, Hunter started to hear some distant melody. More than just music playing, he heard some familiar voices that made his ears twitch.

“Did you hear that too ?” he asked his brothers.

“Yes, I did, pretty clearly” Tech answered, “Me too” Wrecker added.

“Seems like (y/n) and Omega are having a little fun while we’re working” Echo said jokingly with a smile.

The voices and the rhythm became more distinct as they entered.

“ … I'll make you happy, baby, just wait and see

For every kiss you give me, I'll give you three …”

You didn’t hear the boys coming, as the music was a bit loud, and you were totally carried away in the heat of the moment. They noticed that everything that was usually settled on the floor had been lifted on the furniture, and that the said floor was still wet on some spots.

“ … Oh, since the day I saw you

I have been waiting for you

You know I will adore you 'til eternity …”

When they finally caught a glimpse of you, they found themselves in front of a pretty unique and unexpected spectacle.

“ … So won't you, please (be my, be my baby)

Be my little baby? (my one and only baby) …”

Here you were, the handle of the mop in one hand, using it as a microphone, facing Omega who had a sponge squished in hers for the same purpose, both dancing in rhythm and singing passionately in unison. The floor was in the middle of being mopped, but everything else was as clean as it could be.

“ … Say you'll be my darlin' (be my, be my baby)

Be my baby now (my one and only baby)

Whoa-oh-oh-oh …”

They did their best not to interrupt you and stay discreet and quiet, but to be fair, it didn’t take them too much effort, for you were so absorbed that nothing could have disturbed you right now.

When the song ended, the two of you were happier as ever and giggling.

“Heyyyy, great job, you’ve nailed it girl !” you exclaimed at Omega, high fiving her.

The young girl’s eyes were sparkling with joy, she loved those shared moments with you.

But suddenly, you felt that something was off, and you stopped laughing, freezing at the realization that you weren’t alone anymore. When Omega noticed it, she turned her head toward the entrance of the room and smiled even more widely at the sight of her brothers.

“Hey !! Guys !! Have you heard us ? What do you think ? Isn’t (y/n) a great singer ?”

You weren’t even able to face them as you were horribly embarrassed. Your cheeks were burning red, and your only reflex was to facepalm yourself to try to hide it.

“That was awesome !!” a very enthusiastic Wrecker shouted out.

“That was great, indeed !”

“Yeah” Hunter spoke with a gentle smile. You could feel his gaze on you, making you blush even more, “that was impressive, both of you”.

“Thanks !!!” Omega was so proud, it was adorable.

“Don’t be so shy (y/n), look, they found it great !!”

You smiled at her words, moving your hand slightly from your eyes to look at her.

“Is that true ?” you teased, a smug smile on your lips.

“Of course !”

“Yes, your voices matched that song pretty greatly, well done !”

Wrecker and Tech immediately answered with encouraging smiles.

Then your eyes met Hunters. You could swear he was blushing too. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut by a grinning Echo.

“Yeah, why are you so shy ? Of course you’re a great singer, have you forgotten all the applause you used to get back in the day ?”

“Seriously, Echo ?” you grumbled, looking deadpan at him.

“Seriously, you should be proud of that voice, even if it’s even better when you’re playing while singing.”

“What are you talking bout ?” Wrecker asked, confused.

“Don’t you dare !” you warned him, pointing a finger at his direction.

“Ho, she never told you ?” his mischievous grin turned into a soft smile, “(y/n) used to carry her guitar wherever she went, especially on our days off. Sometimes we had the chance to get a private concert in the barracks, sometimes she would carry it with her to the 79”. Every time she started to play, everyone stopped talking to listen to her, and most of the time, we all ended singing along.”

You let out a deep sigh.

“Really ?” The giant’s eyes were now looking at you with fascination.

“You never told us that you knew how to play guitar !” Hunter said with surprise.

“That’s because it was very long ago, I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to play again … Plus, I didn’t get any more music instrument at hand anymore, I didn’t get the chance to bring it with me when …”

You stopped, frowning slightly, your eyes got lost in the vague for a few seconds before you could get your composure again. When you raised your head, you noticed that Hunter seemed moved by your words.

“Anyway,” you let out, trying your best to hide your troubles, “maybe someday I’ll get the chance to show you, but for now, karaoke will do, and we have some mopping to finish !”

You winked at the young girl, who immediately chuckled in response.

“Go on, you’ll take the cockpit, I take the back space, last one to finish will paid mantel mix to the other !”

Omega giggled and grabbed one of the mops “Good luck then !” she burst before heading for the said cockpit.

As the boy’s attention went on the groceries organizing, Echo didn’t move and stood still besides you. You looked at each other for a moment, before he lowered his head with a sad look.

“I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to embarrass you, let alone make you sad by bringing back old memories … I just wanted to tease you as we always do, you know, I thought it could be funny … I’m sorry, it was a stupid move …”

You got closer to him, and put your hand on his shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just that … I wasn’t expecting that, I was taken aback, that’s all, but that’s okay, really !”

“I’m sorry” he repeated, sighing heavily, trying to avoid your eyes, “But to be honest, I miss those times … I miss those special little moments with everyone, when you were singing us some song in the barracks, you know ? Every time we were listening to you, all of our worries seemed to suddenly vanish, it was incredible, and I miss hat, I miss all of them …”

As he spoke, tears were starting to form in his eyes. It broke your heart to see him like that. You and him have gone through so much during the war. You were particularly close to each other, everyone in the Batch knew it from the many stories Echo had told them about you. You were here when they rescued him from the Citadel, and you were here when he decided to stay with them, you had been by his side for so long. You knew each other so well, you knew he didn’t means to hurt you by saying all if this.

“I know”, you whispered back, “But it’s okay, I’m not mad at you, I know you can be a little tease sometimes, but don’t worry, really.” You did your best to cheer him up, he smiled back, but the tears were still here.

“You know … I miss them too …” you finally confess, “And I miss those moments too, I think about them every day to be honest …”

Tears were rolling down his cheeks now. Echo had always done his best to stay strong in front of the others, and he was pretty good at hiding his feelings. But with you, it was different. Of course, he trusted the rest of the batch, but he trusted you on another level. You had so much in common, you had shared and lived through so much things together, you were so close that you were the only person he was able to share absolutely everything with.

The only answer you could give him was to wrap your arms around his neck and pulling him close in a reassuring embrace. You stayed like that for a moment, sharing each other pain until it soothes, comforting each other as you’ve always did.

Even if you were apart from the others, in the corner of the room where no one could have caught a glimpse of what you were saying, Hunter was still able to understand what was happening.

He knew you were both missing your late brothers in arms, and it often broke his heart to see you so devastated. But this time, a crazy little idea crossed his mind, and he decided to take charge of bringing back some of your lost happiness.

***

After the next mission, it was supposed to be Hunter and Tech turn to do the cleaning on the Marauder while the rest of the crew was going on a supplying trip. Hunter wasn’t usually very prone to cleaning and tidying. He was the kind of man who didn’t really bothered to live surrounded by dust and dirt, but he was doing his best to show willingness on this duty anyway, thanks to you. Even if it was still making him grumpy, he couldn’t deny that living in a clean space was more comfortable, especially since Omega was here. Since the two of you were here, he seemed to acknowledge and mind a lot of things he wasn’t caring about before.

But today he had something else on his mind. As soon as you came back to the ship from shopping, he jumped from his sit and headed toward the door, claiming to have a personal business to settle. You didn’t even get the chance to ask him about the level of cleanliness of the ship that he was already gone, leaving the squad in shared confusion. So you asked Tech instead, trying to understand what was going on with Hunter at the same time. The only explanation you got was that he seemed very impatient to go at the local market too, and that he was impressively motivated and fast to do his chores, which was very convenient for his partner, since he wasn’t very inclined to fulfill them neither.

So you just rolled with it. After all, even if it was intriguing, everyone had the right to some alone time once in a while.

When he came back, you weren’t sure what to think about him. You could swear that he was more joyful than when he had left the ship previously. In fact, everyone had noticed it, and Wrecker didn’t miss the occasion to tease him about it. You were able to catch a weird and suspect eye contact between him and Echo, telling you that they were probably up to something. But you just decided to let it go, trying your best not to wonder about what it could have been. You had the feeling that you’ll discover what it was all about soon enough.

As the day passed by, every task that needed to be done on board were completed. The Marauder was cleaner as ever, all the provisions racks were full, and you had enough ammunitions to take down an entire droid’s battalion. Now all that was left to do was to rest and take some good time until you were assigned to your next mission.

You were sitting on your bunk, putting your blaster back together after cleaning it piece by piece, the ship was peaceful as everyone was busy doing their own things, when Echo and Hunter came back from outside of the ship.

“If I may point out” Echo spoke, “Cid didn’t reach for us yet, which mean that we, at least, have tonight to take some time to relax and do whatever we want to.”

“Does that mean that you had something in mind?” Tech asked, not even raising his head from his datapad.

“To be honest, it had been some times since we hadn’t shared a drink, and I think that it could be a good idea to go out at Cid’s bar and have a chill evening, don’t you think ?”

“I knew it !” Tech finally looked at him, smiling “That’s indeed a very good idea !”

“I’m in !” Wrecker beamed. Of course he was.

“Me too !” You answered enthusiastically.

“Yes ! Wrecker, will you play dejarik with me ?” Omega asked her brother excitedly, who immediately started to complain jokingly about how she was always winning and that he had no chance to beat her anyway.

“Perfect then !” Echo concluded.

Hunter didn’t say anything, but you knew he was always in for a drink or more. You saw him smile with satisfaction at your answers, but most of all, you caught another meaningful look between him and Echo. Something had to happen tonight for sure.

***

The bar was a bit crowded as usual. You were looking at Omega playing dejarik with some Ithorian from afar. Wrecker had tried it for a couple games, but ended giving up after losing every times as he expected. It made you smile to see her so happy like that. And it was good to relax a bit before the next mission, it was well deserved for everyone. Wrecker and Tech were now passionately debating about some weapons efficiency while Echo was looking at them amusingly. You had started to feel a bit dizzy from the alcohol, and now a very pleasurable feeling of lightness and peacefulness was taking over you.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice Hunter when he came to sit next to you at first. He looked at you for a moment, admiring you intensely before engaging the conversation.

“She’s really talented, I’ve never seen anyone won as much games in a row …”

“Yeah, she is. She’s really gifted” you answered, smiling proudly. “It reassures me to see that she can still be happy despite what she’s gone through”.

“I know you’re worried about her, I am too … I’m still figuring out how to take care of a child to be honest, and sometimes I just feel a bit lost, but I guess that I’m doing my best … We’re not prepared for that as soldiers, it’s not part of the training …”

The tone of his voice was sadder, and when you detach your eyes from Omega to look at him, you could read doubt on his face.

“I think you’re doing great, really. The four of you, you are wonderful brothers to her. I know it can be scary and unsettling sometimes, having to protect and care for another being through this world … It’s a heavy burden for sure … But trust me, you are doing great, and I mean it.”

“Thank you” he answered softly, a wide smile appearing on his face.

What you had just told him was really touching and reassuring him. He knew you had to take care of the younglings sometimes, back at the Jedi temple, and that you had been on a lot of battlefields with young padawans, unfortunately forced to witness more of their suffering that you could have possibly imagined … You never got the chance to have your own padawan to train before it all ended, but you knew very well what it meant to care for a child so young and vulnerable, even if they were supposed to be trained for fighting.

“To be honest, it wouldn’t be the same without you. You’re helping us a lot, with everything ... And … you mean a lot to Omega, she’s really attached to you, Echo is really attached to you, we all are really attached to you … I’m not sure if I have told you this before but … I’m glad you joined us … You really are part of the squad now … Really part of our family … And, yeah … It wouldn’t be the same without you …” he slowly added, in a more shy and hesitant tone.

It was hard for him to let all of that out. He was stumbling over his words, he wasn’t used to express his feelings, and you had a very strong presentiment that he wanted to add more, that he had something heavier on his mind to confess to you, but he seemed unable to. 

Your cheeks started to get warm and blushing, but you couldn’t break the eyes contact. It was way too intense and too mesmerizing, you could have drowned in his eyes at that moment.

You opened your mouth to answer something, but you couldn’t find your words. You desperately wanted to tell him how being part of that family was one of the best things that had ever happened to you, and that finding them had given your life a whole new start and a reason to keep fighting after losing everything that you had. But you couldn’t, you were so moved that you couldn’t even answer.

“I have something for you” he suddenly let out, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What ? For me ? Why ?” you answer with surprise, still shacked by his words.

“Because I found something that I think you’ll like, and I wanted to give you a surprise … It’s inside the ship, would you mind following me ?” He had already stood up from his seat, inviting you to follow him with a tilt of his head.

“Of course, yes” you stood up too “I’m sorry, I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“Yeah, that’s the point of a surprise !” He chuckled at your confusion.

His smile was heartwarming, and you were so focused on it when you left the bar that you didn’t notice Echo watching you from the corner of his eye, a satisfied grin on his face.

***

When you enter the Marauder, Hunter made you sit on his bunk before heading toward the entrance again. He was nervous, it was the first time that you were alone together aboard the ship, and neither of you were use to its strange quietness.

“Close your eyes, I’ll come back, it won’t be long, don’t open them before I tell you so.”

“Yes sir !” you exclaimed, curiosity taking over you.

You heard his footsteps going down the metallic ramp. You were even more confused, where the hell was he able to hide something on the outside of the ship ?

When he came back on board again, your heart started to pound with impatience, beating faster with each of his footsteps. When he stopped in front of you, he stayed silent for a few seconds that seemed like eternity.

“You can open your eyes now …”

You immediately gasp at the sight of what was in front of you : carefully held between Hunter’s hands was a beautiful vintage guitar, old but still in good condition.

“Oh Maker !” you let out, “How did you manage to find that ?”

“Here, on Ord Mantell, at the local market. Remember that weird looking antique store right in front of the Mantell Mix stand ? They sell all kind of interesting stuff there, including old music instruments. It’s not much, but I thought you’ll be happy to be able to play again … “

“It’s absolutely perfect … Thank you so much Hunter … I … I can’t express how much it means to me ” your voice was now trembling with excitement and your eyes were sparkling with happiness,  “Can I … Can I try it ?”

“Of course, it’s all yours !”

You carefully took the guitar and put it on your lap while Hunter sat next to you on the bunk, examining it from every angle.

“That’s incredible, it’s nearly the same as the one I had back then …”

“Well, that’s because Echo helped me to choose it. He told me that yours was a particular design that Senator Amidala brought you back from one of her diplomatic missions. Guess I got lucky on this one …”

“I knew it !” you burst, “I knew that there was something going on, those eyes contacts were obviously hiding something ! But I must admit, I would have never suspected that … You two really are the bests !”

He was the happiest man right now, knowing that his gift was making you happy, on top of the fact that he was finally able to spend some time with you.

You give him a fond smile and before starting to pull the strings one after the other to tune them. As you were playing some random notes, Hunter’s attention turned to your hands, looking eagerly at your fingers dancing along the neck. Then the notes became chords, and you repeated these chords again, and again, like if you were trying to start something bigger. Like a hesitant bird flapping its wings again and again until it can finally remember how to fly, you wanted your hands to remember the right movements.

He couldn’t get his eyes off of your fingers. He was so focused, so mesmerized by the recovering of their dexterity that he didn’t notice the long breath you took before your lips parted.

“Remember me …”

The sound of your voice made his heart skip a beat. You had no idea how many times he had wished to hear it again …

“ … For I have to say goodbye, remember me …”

His head raised from your fingers to your face, his eyes sparkling with awe, admiring your features in silence.

“ … Don’t let it make you make you cry …”

Goosebumps run all over his skin, sending shivers across his entire body.

“ … For even if I'm far away, I hold you in my heart,

“I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart …”

As you were singing, you felt tears slowly brimming to your eyes and a lump invading your throat. Your voice started to tremble, and it took you a lot of energy to prevent it from breaking.

“ … Remember me,

Though I have to travel far …”

You closed your eyes, your mind aching from the sudden burst of old and painful memories coming from the depth of your brain. Your hands knew the movements so well that even without your eyes looking at the strings, the music went on flawlessly.

“ … Remember me,

Each time you hear a sad guitar …”

You used to sing that song to ease the minds of your fellow clone soldiers when the horrors of war were becoming too heavy to carry. It was a way to commemorate those who had fallen on the battlefield, a way to pay them tribute and to show that, even thought they were gone, you weren’t forgetting about them and their sacrifice.

You had learned it at the time you were fighting along the 501st, and you had played it a lot because it was often requested to you. It meant so much to you back in the day, and it was even more now, after everything that happened at the end of the war.

“ … Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be,

Until you're in my arms again …”

Tears were now rolling down your cheeks, but you weren’t paying any attention to them, for you were too focused on keeping your voice straight, only willing to honor your memories by finishing the song properly. Your emotion was contagious, and soon, Hunter’s eyes were watery as well.

“… Remember me …”

You sighed heavily as you played the last notes, then let your head fell on top of the guitar, wrapping your arms tightly around the instrument, like if you were hugging every one of those you were missing. You stayed like that for a moment, in complete silence, lost in your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel sad with that gift … It seemed that music was something you were very fond of before, and I was just thinking that maybe, it could be comforting for you to have a chance play again …”

Hunter’s voice was full of concern. You were probably looking like a mess right now you thought, but you still find the courage to raise your head and look at him, giving him a weak but sincere smile.

“No, I’m fine, don’t worry … It’s just that … It’s hard to face those memories again sometimes, even the good ones, you know …. But I’m glad to still have them, this is all I have left of it, after all …”

You sighed again, looking at the guitar and brushing its surface with the tips of you fingers like if it was the most precious thing in the galaxy.

“Thank you so much, Hunter, that’s the best thing that you could have offered to me, really …”

“I have to admit …” he started to answer, hesitant, before going on, “it was a bit of a very selfish move … The truth is … I was craving to hear your voice again, and this …” he pointed at the guitar with a nod, “it was the perfect opportunity … I couldn’t help myself but, at least, try … I have just no words to describe what I’ve felt the other day when I heard you sing, it was just … Breathtaking honestly … ”

The way he was looking at you while speaking was so intense that it made your cheeks start to blush. It has been a long time since someone had looked at you that way, and it was totally taking you aback. You chuckled at his revelations, it was adorable, and rather flattering.

“Well, that’s a very smart move honestly !” you chuckled, “Thank you again, it’s been so long since I’ve sing for someone who enjoyed it … I think I needed that …”

The more he was looking at you, the more beautiful you were to him, and the more he was craving to touch your face and to kiss your lips. But at the same time, he wanted to comfort you and to make you feel safe, for seeing you cry and struggle with memories was heartbreaking to him.

Gathering his courage, he slowly raised his arm to wrap it around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him until your two bodies were pressed against each other, before moving his hand to your head and to gently stroke your hair.

You closed your eyes, settling your head on his shoulder, allowing your body to relax against his. His gestures were so soft and comforting, that soon, your mind felt at ease again, completely focusing on that touch you had wished to feel on your skin for so long. It was perfect, and you let yourself being submerged by that pleasant feeling.

As he was resting his head upon yours, Hunter realized that it still wasn’t the right moment to confess about his feelings for you like he had planned too. But it wasn’t bothering him, for that moment shared with you was a very special and meaningful one, and he had the feeling that it was another step into solidifying his already strong bond with you. One step at the time, he thought, maybe the next time will be the right, but for now, he wanted to enjoy the precious embrace.

“So …”, you let out after a moment, a sly smile appearing on your lips, “would you like to hear another one ?”

“Yes, please,” he breathed out, “with pleasure …”

And that’s how you both spent the rest of your night sat on his bunk, singing and playing various songs to him, giving him the best improvised private concert of his life.

You were still at it when the rest of the batch came back from the bar, and they all instantly gathered around the bunk to listen to you. You could swear that you caught a tear rolling over Echo’s cheek. Even if he was trying his best to keep his composure, you knew that it was giving him as much as emotions as you when you met the proud and nostalgic glance he was giving you.

Omega and Wrecker’s eyes were sparkling with fascination as they carefully listened to you, and Tech was stuck in awe too, eyes riveted to the confident movements of your fingers.

That night turned out to be a blessing that you fondly enjoyed, and for once in a long time, you felt completely and perfectly at your place, surrounded by people that you were now considering as your family, and hopping that one day, you’ll finally be courageous enough to tell their lovely sergeant how badly head over heels you were for him.

[universitypenguin]

Steve Rogers - Sex Headcanon

Warnings: Smut, Light bondage, NSFW, 18+

Word Count: Too long, as usual.

First of all, Steve Rogers loves sex. 

He’s a bit touch starved after waiting for the right woman, but when he finds you and things move into the physical affection stage, he’s all over you.

During sex, Steve loves that he can pick you up with little effort

He likes doing it against the wall

Standing, almost any position

Likes that he can hold your hips still even when you start to squirm when he hits the right spots

In general, holding onto your hips, your butt, and even when he gets to curl his hands around to grasp your inner thighs, Steve is thrilled. Captain America is an ass man.

He loves your legs too, though.

Likes to pin you down for prone bone.

He hates to admit how much using his strength against you turns him on.

But you love it too and when he realizes that you like the same positions he does, it gets more intense.

Like, he’ll pick you up while he’s standing and lift you to his shoulders, draping your legs over his shoulders to eat you out.

When Steve learns that you not only can orgasm multiple times, but that you enjoy it, he starts to let go a bit more.

At first he was careful in bed. He kept things slow and gentle, not being entirely sure of his strength. But once he gets comfortable…

He goes feral

It starts when you ask him to tie you up. The idea is only familiar to him from Tony and Thor’s jokes about 50 Shades of Gray.

Steve hates 50 Shades of Gray. He thinks Christian is an ass who doesn’t respect women.

But back to the topic: bondage. He’s willing to hear you out about why you want that. And eventually, he says yes.

The conversation about bondage goes like this:

You’ve never done bondage before. Despite having several past relationships and experiences, you’ve never trusted a man like that. Erotica tastes aside, reality is a beast of its own.

And without the feeling of complete safety that Steve Rogers inspires in your heart, you won’t have even brought it up.

But you trust him without reservations.

The idea of bondage for you is totally psychological. To have your hands restrained and be blind folded takes the pressure off of you. Sometimes your mind starts going during sex and it ruins your enjoyment.

It’s not like you’re thinking about the groceries or anything, just that you start planning your next move. Should you kiss him now, or do you need to moan louder? Does your moaning sound like a dying cat? Maybe you should keep it down.

So the blind fold is important.

And you don’t want to be able to move because you’d try to plan that too. Sometimes you put a lot of pressure on situations to be perfect. Perfect because you made it perfect, you mean. Your expectations are of yourself.

This is one reason you hate not being able to achieve orgasm. That matters to Steve a lot and he always but your pleasure first. The man is selfless and sweet. And when your mind decides to shut down the orgasm buttons, you hate disappointing him.

Steve is sold on the idea of bondage once he understands that it’s only an option because you feel safe with him. And he likes being the only person you’d trust to be this vulnerable with. All the 50 Shades objections vanish for him once you explain that part.

When you tell him that your struggles orgasming sometimes are from your own pressures to be good in bed, he gets it.

He loves that about you, your desire to please him and make things good. It motivates him to accept the offer of bondage.

Because it makes perfect sense that being forced to be the recipient and having control stripped away would fix that for you.

Steve says that you’ll have to let him make the plan. Which is *so* Steve Rogers it’s almost funny.

On a random Tuesday you get dinner with a friend and come home late. The lights are off which is weird because you expected Steve to be home. When you step inside you call out for him but no reply. Kicking off your shoes you wander to the kitchen and when you reach for the light switch, a hand grabs your wrist.

You give a small scream as a body presses you into the wall. Then you recognize the feel and the scent of his aftershave.

Steve has you pinned to the wall, wrists on either side of your head, feet spread apart and his big body caging you in.

It’s happening. It’s so happening. And you feel thrilled and scared and outrageously excited.

He’s excited too, you can feel it pressing into your back. The man’s been planning and fantasizing, clearly.

“Do you still want this, honey?”

His first words to you are the reason that you want this. It warms your heart at the same time your panties are growing wet.

“Yes, Steve. So much. Please.”

He rolls his hips, pressing his body against you and you can’t control the moan that passes your lips.

“Red means we stop. Yellow is slow down. If I’m going to do something that I think you need to consent to, I’ll ask ‘is this okay?’ and you’re going to say “Green” if you want it. Understand?

“Pick a safe word, doll.”

Eagle is your safe word. Your mind just liked the whole patriotic motif, you supposed.

Once the ground rules are laid out, Steve turns you around and with a tap on the curve of your ass, signals you to jump up.

With your legs around his waist and arms curled around his neck, he carried you upstairs to the bed.

Blindfold goes on first. Then cuffs that are lined with something soft that feels like shearling.

You know without asking that he picked them because he thought handcuffs would be too aggressive. Again, your heart flips.

“I’m going to push you, baby. I want you to wring every bit of enjoyment you can out of this. I’m going to make you come hard. You with me on that?”

You’re with him. You’ve waited a long time to try this.

“I have a plan for aftercare too,” he says.

And that’s your first hint that he’s about to go feral on you like he sometimes does when he’s keyed up from a mission.

Steve Rogers has freaking stamina for days. The man could kill you with sex if he wanted to.

(His sex drive is high… all that waiting for the right girl makes a man horny)

He undoes the halter tie of your dress and pull it down, slipping it over your legs.

He uses his mouth first. And it’s frustrating that he left your panties on. 

(The outfit was something he’d suggested. You’d thought he just liked the sundress and had been complimented when he’d said you’d look great in it today. Now it was clear he’d been planning all day. Probably longer.)

He’s been planning since the night you told him two weeks ago. Before the conversation was even over. You felt safe enough with him to ask for such a private and vulnerable fantasy and that turned him on in a mental way he can’t even explain.

So he starts by teasing you.

He kisses your mouth, slow and sensual. His tongue flicks against yours but never quite for as long as you’d like. And he knows how you like it by this point in the relationship. So you’re well aware he’s teasing you.

His mouth begins to wander to your neck and he laps at the sensitive spot. Your thighs clench in response. You’re soaked now, so wet it’s a little bit embarrassing.

He finally finds your breast with his mouth, taking an aching bud in his mouth and drawing on it. Softly. Gently. Lapping and teasing without the friction you needed to enjoy it.

Your breath came in pants now and you spread your legs to open yourself to encourage him to continue. Because there’s somewhere else that really needs attention.

Instead he turns to the other breast and gives it the same attention. Slower. And softer. Stroking with his tongue until your nipple was painfully tight.

His hand trailed up to cup the breast he wasn’t sucking on. The pad of his thumb made teasing circles and you moaned, arching your back into his mouth.

He chuckled and released the aching bud with a pop. Fingertips swirled the nipple he’d just abandoned, coating it with his saliva. He pinch it just right and your hips jerked.

Arousal was a living breathing thing inside your body now, clawing at your lower belly, turning breath into unsteady pants.

“How are you doing, baby?”

The bastard knew you were dying. Sweat was starting to burst from your pores. Your entire body was hot with need.

“Please, Steve…”

“Mmmhh? What do you need, doll?”

“I need your to touch me.”

“Where?”

“My pussy. I’m so wet for you, please touch me. Get inside of me.”

He purred. This was the moment you realized that you’d created a monster. Because he was getting off on the power play.

(This wasn’t actually when the monster was officially created. No, that would be later when you were done and he got to see your dazed face and tear filled eyes from the magnitude of what he’d drawn your body.)

He let go of the nipple and flattened his palm on your ribs, sliding it down inch by inch until he paused on your low belly.

He toyed with the band of your panties.

“You’re wet for me? Does this needy pussy want my fingers or my mouth?”

“Both!!”

He laughed again. But he went ahead, so it was worth it.

And heaven help you, there were fireworks. The bondage was working wonders for your mental need to be out of control. But Steve took it higher when he forced your legs wide and pinned them to the mattress.

And while spin class workouts did amazing things for your thighs, nothing topped super soldier strength. You were stuck. Legs pushed flat to the bed, hands cuffed to the head board and nothing stopping the extremity turned on man with his head between your legs.

He lied about giving your his mouth and fingers. At first he only used his mouth on your clit, licking around it, touching the tip of his tongue over it in slow flicks, then finally, finally, sucking.

Your body seized at the shock of pleasure, white hot and raw jerking through nerve endings frayed from lack of fulfillment.

He knew what pitch he needed to hear you moan at before he added his fingers.

He knew it because Steve Rogers is a man who studies all the angles of a situation and knows his enemy. Or in this case, knows his lover.

He rubs at your G-spot with the pad of his finger and you scream.

Your head falls back on the pillow and tears start to flow because it’s not enough.

“More, oh, please. Steve, I need-“

He growls. “I know what you need, babydoll. And I’ll give it to you when you’re a good girl and you hold back that orgasm for me. I don’t want you to come yet. Don’t you dare come. If you do I’m going to have to take you over my knee.”

Just the idea of him spanking you almost makes you lose it.

He backs off the intensity. And you start to sob from the brutal frustration of being taken so high and left without release.

His name begins to fall from your lips like a litany, as you start to beg.

“Steve! Please, I want to come!”

“Not yet. Hold back. You be my good girl and hold back. I don’t want to spank that sweet behind until it’s red, but I’ll do it.”

Your scream is gargled by a wave of pleasure that makes your whole body roll as it rips through you from head to toe.

“Let me come, damn it!”

Smack. He’s light and there’s a sting on your right inner thigh.

“Hold. It. Back!”

Screams become sobs. You can’t hold still. You’re fighting the restraints and trying to move but he’s not allowing it. All you can do is clench around his fingers and cry.

“Come for me, baby.”

Release floods you in a second when he gives permission.

The cord of tension snaps. Your muscles lock. The scream you felt building is nowhere to be found. Your voice disappears in the violence of the orgasm. It’s totally silent as your body takes control.

Your channel clamps down around his fingers. The orgasm pulses through your body like being set on fire.

Then you scream. And the muscles that had gone stiff suddenly quiver with release.

If Steve hadn’t held you down through it you’d have been snapping your hips and arching into the sensations, away from them.

He keeps going, pushing you through it until the orgasm is finished.

Then you cry.

Honestly crying, because of the intensity of the release.

You’d expected to get off. You hadn’t guessed that you would get obliterated by the world’s most intense orgasm.

Steve immediately crawls up and takes off the blind fold.

“It’s okay, doll. I’m here. You’re okay, you’re safe. Hold on to me.”

You move, trying to reciprocate when his arms go around you, but they’re still cuffed.

This makes you cry harder.

Steve rips them open, letting you free.

And then you’re in his arms and you can cry properly.

He rolls over with you in his arms, one arm tight around your waist, the other cupping the back of your head.

What shocks you is that he’s not nervous, apologizing, or asking if you’re hurt. He’s petting you and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

“It’s okay, baby. Let it out. I’m right here, not goin’ anywhere. Hold on to me, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

The warm hand moving over your back is a delicious comfort. Almost as good as being held to the strong chest by arms thicker than most people’s legs.

When the storm of emotions passes, you blink up as Steve, a bit confused.

His smile is gentle and his eyes are filled with warmth.

“I did my research. You came down from that hard, didn’t you?”

Your answering “yeah,” is slurred.

He kisses your forehead. If you weren’t already boneless from your release, that would have finished you off.

“You were such a good girl for me. I can’t wait to do this again.”

With a tired smile you arch an eyebrow.

“But we can’t be done. I haven’t had you inside of me yet, soldier.”

Steve’s eyes go wide at the remark and you smirk.

“I still need you to fuck me, baby. I need to feel you finish on top of me and collapse into my arms. Please.”

You said please. And if he didn’t get assist a lady who needed his help, what kind of a hero was he?

[deanaddicted2]

Ride - Dean x Y/N

Soooo this is my first fic. I wrote this a couple months ago when I was bored out of my mind and I was listening to 67 (Winchester) by Reyna Roberts.

All mistakes are my own. I do not own the characters or the song, they are simply my inspiration.

Read Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Y/N

Warning: sexual inuendos, pre-smut, Dean being a total goof

A/N: I am thinking of doing a part 2 to this. Let me know what ya think :)

Dean Winchester was not the easiest person to buy for. You could only buy him so many porno mags and guns before it got weird. No, it was his 40th birthday in a couple of days and you wanted to do something special for him. Something that would bring a smile to his face. You and Sam noticed that he had been moping around the bunker for the last week, mumbling under his breath about how old he was going to be. You knew that he hated that his body didn't ‘work’ the same as it did 20 even 10 years ago, and although you liked teasing him, calling him old man once in a while, you felt for him. You were all getting older, so you sympathized.

You sat on the floor of your old bedroom, abandoned after moving into Dean’s, guitar in your hand and papers scattered around you. The door was shut in hopes of keeping the birthday boy oblivious to what you were up too. It wasn’t uncommon for you to be in here like this. You loved writing music, but you didn’t like to share this talent with the boys, your songs never being perfect enough for the ears of others. But this was different.

You wanted this to be perfect. So there you sat, trying to figure out how to describe your perfect boyfriend in well, the perfect way.

You had worked out the chorus pretty fast, the idea hitting you a couple of days prior. You and Dean were in the bunker’s garage, giving the cars a clean when you noticed some of the water had soaked his shirt, making it cling to his chest. You bit your lip at the sight, thanking Chuck for the beauty standing in front of you. Dean, entranced by his Baby, was muttering confessions of love to his car.

“There you go, you look as sexy as ever! That’s my baby.” You chuckled lightly

“She’s not the only one,” You said to yourself. And that's when it hit you.

Back in your room, you shake your head lightly at the memory, cheeks burning slightly.

“I like your 67 chevy ride, tell me will you let me drive it all night,

Or sit me on the passenger side? Yeah what a sight!

‘Cause you're as sexy as that 67, mmm! and I’m looking for a ride!” You sang quietly, strumming your guitar to give you the tune.

You giggle at the amount of sexual innuendos already in the song. But with you and Dean, you wouldn't expect anything different. You already had most of the song done, only a couple of lines left to polish. You were hoping you would get away with a couple more hours before curiosity dragged the cats to you.

Quickly you got back to work.

---------------------Dean’s POV--------------------

Sitting in the war room, on his phone, he scrolls through the news, seeing if anything odd was popping up, looking for a case. With his big birthday just around the corner, he needed a confidence booster. He let out a sigh and continues reading.

Dean hears the door slam and Sam walks in carrying some grocery bags.

“Pie?”

“Pie...” he stated

“Yes!” he says, giving his brother a thumbs up. “You’re the best!” pointing at him.

Sam rolls his eyes and places the grocery bags on the table in front of him.

“Why is it so quiet in here? Where’s Y/N?” Sam asks looking around.

“She locked herself in her old room, said she had inspiration for a song and she needed total “alone time” to write. No interruptions. I love her man but it's been like 5 hours. And of course we won't even hear what she's writing because she’s Y/N. It’s never perfect.” He whines to his brother who gives him an annoyed yet sympathetic look.

“Dude you know how she gets, if she’s in the zone and you get in her way, she will hit you, hard. Personally, not how I plan on going out.” He puts his hands up in defense. “I try staying clear of her like that, she’s kinda scary.” He chuckles.

Dean let out a laugh, agreeing with the last statement. He and Sam had fought the scariest of monsters, gods, demons, and things that go bump in the night, but Y/N, angry, was the scariest of all.

“I’m gonna start cooking dinner, it shouldn’t take too long. I’m just throwing a pizza in, you should go drag her out of there to eat, Chuck knows when she ate last.” Sam suggested.

He doesn't hesitate to get up. You're more likely to get away from your music, peacefully, if food is involved, and he missed your pretty face.

He makes his way down the hallway to your old room. As he approaches he hears your guitar strumming and he stills, trying to listen. He loved this, when you were playing and had no idea he was listening. He loved your music and your voice, he could listen to you sing all day.

“He’s pretty as a lie, but he got the devil in his eyes

I wanna know your name, and tell me the secrets you hide.

And god is my witness, you gon get me in trouble,

But I kinda like it, Ain’t no point in fightin’.

You got them blue-jean covered thighs,

Leather-jacket collar-high - hoo baby.

Texas sunlit eyes, and the maple whiskey sighs

I’m gone.”

He steps closer to the door, seeing it open a crack. You are sitting on the ground strumming away lost in the moment.

“I like your 67 chevy ride, tell me will you let me drive it all night,

Or sit me on the passenger side? Yeah what a sight!

‘Cause you're as sexy as that 67, mmm! and I’m looking for a ride!”

He takes a breath. The song’s about him. You wrote a song about him. Intrigued, he leans into the door, accidentally pushing it open.

------------------------Y/N POV--------------------------

You had finally finished the song and were singing it through to see how it flowed. As you finished the first chorus you heard the door creak and jumped at the sound turning to find its origin.

You see Dean standing in the doorframe with the biggest grin on his face.

“Is that about me? Did you write a song about me?” Dean asked giddy, stepping into the room toward your creativity nest.

You sigh, “it was supposed to be your birthday gift you little shit. Why must you be so curious sir?” you shake your head and look down at your pages.

“Y/N it's amazing, please finish the song, I wanna hear the rest of it.” he looks at you with the same damn puppy eyes that Sam has, and you realised he must have learned it from his older brother.

“Dean I…. fine I guess because it is your birthday gift.” You pat the floor next to you and he happily sits down and puts a kiss on your temple. “You may listen but shush as I play.” you stay sternly

“Yes mam.” He salutes you.

You roll your eyes and turn your head back to your pages, beginning again.

“I love that Zeppelin Rock and Roll,

And for a night with you I'll trade my soul. This is getting dangerous,

And I haven't had enough of it.

I like that pendant round your neck and that tattoo on your chest,

With that five o’clock shadow.

Let’s put this engine to the test, travel on, travel west, and get going again.”

“I like your 67 chevy ride, tell me will you let me drive it all night,

Or sit me on the passenger side? Yeah what a sight!

‘Cause you're as sexy as that 67, mmm! and I’m looking for a ride!”

“They don’t make em like you anymore,

Winchester wild.

You are the Wayward son, oh Sweet Child.

Ohhh Winchester Wild.

Ohh ohh ohh!”

“I like your 67 chevy ride, tell me will you let me drive it all night,

Or sit me on the passenger side? Yeah what a sight!

‘Cause you're as sexy as that 67, mmm! and I’m looking for a ride!”

Your strumming came to a slow stop as you finished your song.

Your eyes met Dean’s who was looking at you with such intensity it made you shiver. He seemed lost in something. You? The song? You weren't sure.

“So what do you think?” you ask, a little worried.

“I love you so much! That was amazing! You actually wrote that! What the fuck Y/N?” He yells/says to you grabbing your face between his hands, staring into your eyes. No one had ever spent this much time on him, for him.

“You are my muse Dean Winchester, what can I say?” you giggle at him blushing under his intense stare.

Suddenly he grabs your guitar and sets it on the floor next to him. He stands up at lightning speed and grabs your hand pulling you up with him. He starts dragging you out of the room and down the hallway. You pass the library, Sam’s room and are headed to the end of the hall.

“Dean what are you…” You start but are cut off by Sam appearing in a side hallway.

“Hey, are you guys gonna come eat or what?” He asks slightly confused at what he was seeing in front of him.

“Nope,” Dean says walking towards your shared room, “Y/N’s got some riding to do.” He winks at Sam before pushing you into the room and slamming the door shut.

[tsunderedoctor]

Hay Purple! How are you doing?

I would like to request some Headcanons with female reader and the characters: Law, Kidd, Ace and if you feel inspired every character you want.

The idea was a bit on the modern AU side? Hope that's okay haha. How would the characters react going grocery shopping with their s/o?

I hope this makes sense and is not too boring. If it is, feel free to delete! Thanks a lot (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

Hello~!! This is so cute omg--! I'm going to add Mihawk to this too because the man is an Ace at grocery shopping! 💞💞

Trafalgar D. Water Law

Was the one to suggest (demand) you two go grocery shopping. Has a whole list and will refuse to buy anything not on it. Bread is not an option either I’m sorry-

He tries to get anything healthy for both of you and gets things he knows you will need to help you stay healthy (Diabetic? He knows the right foods for it. Anemic? He’s got you boo.).

Will also buy bundle packs of coffee and you cannot stop him- this man lives off rice and coffee, and he’s a doctor so you can’t say anything! If you like sweets will refuse those as well, unless you give him some puppy dog eyes, then maybe you can have one or ten, but don’t push it!

Has a schedule of what items you get first and has a preferred store he shops at. Will not see him at a regular grocery store, he will go to those organic expensive places because he’s “healthy”- 

Also goes at certain times and days and he keeps coupons (he collects them like his coins-) so bae knows when it’s the best time to get those deals. Honestly 10/10 I need a man like this in my life so I don’t die from eating sweets-

Eustass "Captain" Kid

The one who eats all the samples and doesn’t give a shit if the worker tries to stop him, they shouldn’t have left it out if he couldn’t eat it! Honestly, it’s their fault not his! Will also complain the entire time and try to sneak alcohol into the basket, if you catch him, his next step is to hide it in his pants. 

Glares at everyone who walks past you guys, he feels the need to claim his dominance, especially at the little old lady who asked him to reach something for her. How dare she assume she can ask him for help (Oh you’re looking he better help-)!

His favorite food is cabbage rolls so he expects a lot of your recipes to include those (please-). Will also want a lot of meat dishes so also add that to your list.

Is the one to wear his pajamas because he was last minute dragged to go to the store with you. His hair will be down and he will be grumpy as hell (maybe that’s why he asserts his dominance?). 

Doesn’t speak to the clerk or workers at all and if they say “Welcome/Goodbye” his response is his middle finger and his back walking away from them.

Portgas D. Ace

The chillest to take shopping. He can also be a prankster too so expect him to want to ride inside the basket or off the end. He buys things based off how they look; so usually goes for items designed for kids because “That robot looks so cool babe!” 

Will ask to be sent on missions to find items that are halfway across the store for you just so he can run around and act like it’s a scavenger hunt. Unlike some people, will help the little old lady with no issues! He actually ends up making friends with strangers at the market and it gets difficult to leave because he wants to talk more-

Would totally go to the grocery store shirtless and be offended when they tell him he has to wear a shirt to get inside. Will probably wear something insane in protest.

Has no complains on what you purchase, literally doesn’t care what he eats as long as you can cook and it’s not all the way burnt the boy is happy. He does like spicy foods so keep that in mind if you ever decide to impress this boy with your cooking skills!

Is the type to carry all the bags in one go and will refuse your help. It’s like watching a train wreck and not being able to do anything to stop it- however, he manages to get them all inside!

Dracule Mihawk

This man takes what you like into consideration more than what he likes. Doesn’t expect anything from you so if you don’t want to go shopping that’s okay, he will do it happily. 

He also oddly knows when you are low on other household and hygienic items so he stocks up on pads or your favorite scented soaps. You could literally forget to put it on the list and he will just pull it out saying he knew already. 

His favorite food (should be a drink but whatever-) is wine so he has an assortment of different types and uses your pantry as a wine shack. It can be a bit annoying, but you know your party guests won’t mind so you allow it. 

Will dress up going to the store like he’s going out to dance. Will also only talk to people if they talk to him first; doesn’t say anything when the cute old lady asks for help, just does it. 

Another couponer, but unlike Law he doesn’t get a thrill of collecting them, he gets a thrill of watching the price drop. Would totally be on “Extreme Couponers” and would have the store pay him back for shopping. 

Has your kitchen area organized to the point everything has a place, will also know if something is out of place even if he wasn’t in the room. Also cleans the house to perfection. Perfect house husband, marry this man-

[boldlyanxious]

Light in the Window

Jasonette July prompt 10: light

Jasonette July

My masterlist

Marinette jumped as there was a crash outside her window. She cursed loudly as she realized she ended up with a long, jagged line of stitching going off the wrong direction. At least she had just started this part and it would be on the inside so no one would see the mishap. She glanced over at the window. It had gone very silent but the crash was too loud for it to have been something that would have crept away without her hearing it.

She supposed she could use a stretch anyway. It wouldn’t do to not check out something hitting her window at this hour in Gotham. Too many possible things to go wrong. She didn’t want to test her luck against the City of Crime. But test it she had apparently, she thought with a sigh as she looked through the curtains.

She pried the window open to check and see if the form outside her window was breathing. She didn’t know all the characters that ran around on the rooftops in this city. They seemed to have a full cast of rotating characters. It was basically a vigilante soap opera. Too many of them used red as a main color. Perhaps it was inspired by Deadpool. They couldn’t show weakness so they had to camouflage the blood from any injuries.

The man moved and groaned slightly as his arm flopped off her window as she pushed it up. He jolted when his hand landed on his chest. She sucked in a breath as he went from laying there appearing dead to shooting his hand out to grasp her wrist in a death grip instantaneously. She backed away and started what would have been a surprised squeal if his hand hadn't covered her mouth muffling any noise she would have produced. He slipped through the window and closed it and curtain in a quick motion. He pushed her against the wall with his hand that was still covering her mouth. He made a quiet shushing noise before removing his hand and then walked over and turned off her light leaving her apartment in total darkness.

Marinette should have looked for a pamphlet or guide to the rooftop cast. It was something she had thought about but hadn’t done yet because she had hardly left since moving in. She had supplies and groceries delivered and there was a trash chute in the hallway. She hadn’t needed much yet and had a lot of work to do. Learning about the outside world here was not that high up on her to do list. She would have to hope that since he hadn’t already attacked that he would not find cause to do so.

She could have done a better job decluttering her pile of boxes that she hadn’t unpacked. She realized this as she tripped on a stack and then nearly fell over another. She hadn’t realized how close he had left her to the hazard. But before she tumbled all the way to the ground he had caught her mid fall and pulled her off her feet. She was awkwardly against his chest and thrashing until he set her down somewhere else. He moved her hand to the counter so she could tell that he had put her down in the kitchen. He must have some sort of night vision in his helmet.

“Do you have a light in here?" he asked.

“There is a switch by the fridge.”

A brief shuffle of feet and a flick and the soft glow of the kitchen light brought them out of darkness. Marinette still wasn’t sure what to say. He seemed to be moving around a bit, possibly checking for injuries. Now that there was enough light to see, she could see that he had guns on him. So, probably not one of the less dangerous ones. She didn’t think they used guns much. He righted himself a moment later, she could tell he was still on high alert and looking around her apartment. She moved herself closer to her abandoned place setting from earlier and tried to pick the quickest route to the door just in case she needed to escape.

“So, umm, who are you?” Marinette tried to sound casual.

She, of course, couldn't see his expression when he turned his head to look at her, but she imagined it was a quizzical expression on his face. Probably most Gothamites, native or otherwise had a good idea of most of the players around. Maybe he was one of the main characters and was offended that she didn’t know him.

“Are you new here?” he asked.

“Yes, not quite as new as you seem to be right here in my apartment. But I moved here recently.” she paused, not able to help a bit of snark in her current state. “The packed boxes are not just my choice of decor.”

She was glad to hear what she thought might have been a chuckle under his helmet.

“Most would probably tell you to leave them packed and just leave.”

“Everyone I know told me not to come at all, but my work is here.”

“Guess you can’t fault that.”

“So you aren’t offering a name, but you also don’t seem to be heading out. I was making some tea. Do you want some?”

“That sounds really nice. I would love some. Since you are so graciously offering your hospitality.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

She turned away to start the water and went about getting some snacks while waiting for the kettle to boil. He seemed to have no issue helping himself to whatever she had put out after removing his helmet to reveal a lensed mask beneath it. She ended up having to go in search of additional offerings because she hadn’t considered how much the man would eat. She pulled out noodle bowls she had made ahead to have easy food for herself and offered him one. It was simple to do with the kettle already freshly boiled.

She turned back around and slapped his hand away from the last macaron. Then gasped in shock when she realized what she had done. She still had no idea who he was. He laughed at her again before he picked up the macaron anyway. But instead of eating it he walked around to where she was sitting and lifted it up to her mouth. Marinette blushed as she took a small bite of it. He must have still been laughing at her because he leaned his face close to hers before he put the remainder in his own mouth.

“These are very good. I couldn’t just let you have the last one.”

“It's fine,” she said, her cheeks still burning. “I was due to make more soon anyway.”

“You made them? It is definitely settled, I will have to come back for more.”

“I don’t even know why you came here now. Unless you just didn’t have any food and needed some of mine.”

“I followed the light. I needed to lose someone following me.”

“Are you in danger?"

Her unasked question was whether or not he had put her in danger. He carried his tea and bowl of noodles and sprawled out on her couch before answering.

"They will have moved on tonight or will soon. I'm relatively certain no one saw where I went."

She set her own food on a tv tray and sat down on the other side of the couch. She was trying to pretend that this was all perfectly normal. She went about setting her food and tea up how she liked in silence. She didn't know what to say and he was content to remain silent. She could feel him watching her but she didn't want to turn and make eye contact with his mask lenses.

“Tell me about yourself.” He said breaking the silence.

“There isn’t much to tell. I moved here to expand my client base.”

“Where did you come from?”

“Originally I’m from France but after fashion school I took a semester in New York to get additional skills and help with understanding the language.”

“Fashion?” He raised his eyebrow at her.

“Not everyone can be as confident as you and run around the rooftops every night in an outfit that looks like that.”

He leaned close to her when she said that. She was pretty sure he was trying to intimidate her but she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Apparently her could tell though.

“Are you laughing at me?” she shook her head and bit her lip harder. “I like you. You either take no shit or you have no self preservation.”

“You have been here for a bit and you seem to have developed a vested interest in keeping me alive.”

“Did you not notice that I am carrying guns? I’m very good at using them.”

“I did. But you also ate all my food and decided you want to come back for more of my macarons.”

“I could get cookies anywhere. I’m a crime lord. I get whatever I want.”

“You probably won’t get better than someone who grew up in a French patisserie. But maybe that doesn’t matter if you are a crime lord resorting to hiding out in the apartment of a lowly fashion designer.”

“I like this. I don’t get a lot of people willing to talk to me like this.”

“Maybe its just because I don’t know who you are.”

“Could be. But I think you just can’t help yourself.”

He stood up and began walking around her apartment looking around. He spent a couple minutes looking at her designs in progress and then picked up her sketchbook. He held it up silently and she nodded, giving him permission to look in the book. When he got to a blank page he doodled a little picture and then closed the book without showing her. He looked back out the window and seemed to come to a decision.

“Thanks for the shelter and the hospitality. I guess I never got your name.”

“I didn’t get yours either.”

“I’m the Red Hood.”

Her eyes widened slightly. He chuckled. “So you have heard of me then.”

“I’m Marinette,” she said while nodding.

He walked up to her and brushed her hair from her face gently.

“I hope to see you soon Marinette. Its been a refreshing experience.”

With that he put his helmet back on and left through the window her came in and disappeared into the night. Marinette decided she was finished working for the evening and went to bed without bothering to put anything away. That certainly had been an interesting encounter. She wondered if he really would come back. She would have to buy more groceries if he did.

Taglist

@jasonette-july-event | @theymakeupfairies | @emjrabbitwolf | @vixen-uchiha | @trythisagainlove | @trippingovermyfeet | @tbehartoo | @adrestar | @zynna

[anothertimdrakestan]

Tiktok Inspired Pranks On Batboys/YJ Characters HC! PART TWO!

SOME OF THESE ARE SEXUAL SO THIS IS A WARNING

omg the requests for part two were AMAZINGGG shout-out to the anons who recommended two different Jason ideas and a Bart one that is to die for! I threw in a Tim because he’s my bb boi and cannot be left out! Hope you enjoy!

Jason Todd - Bl0wjob Prank

- after being tagged in a million videos of girls tying their hair up then getting on their knees in front of their boyfriend only to pick something up you knew Jason would go berserk

- In the back of a car driving the two of you home from a gala you knew it was time

- luckily it was just you and Jason in the back while the driver had closed the front seat from the back so you knew it was private enough

- you were resting your head on his shoulder when you sat up, pulling your hair up making direct eye contact with him while he looked confused

- lightly biting your lip while finishing putting your hair up Jason’s confused look turned in to a little bit of a smirk as you pulled your hair into it’s signature d*ck sucking style

- you were aiming for the water bottle in the seat’s lower pocket, reaching for it would place you perfectly on Jason’s lap

- for even more tension you carefully took out your earrings, being sure not to break eye contact

- slowly you leaned over his lap, dragging you hand over his lap, pausing to put pressure on him while he sucked in a breath and reached to undo his seat belt and belt buckle

- right before he could do anything you reached forward, grabbing the water bottle, sitting up cooly and unscrewing the lid before taking a sip as if nothing had happened

- “you’re fucking kidding me” Jason whispered and you looked at him with innocent eyes “hm? I wanted water” you grinned. “well when we get home I want something else” his eyes narrowed with a smirk making you squirm in your seat.

- Jason knocked on the driver’s window “how much cash do I need to give you to speed?” giving you a wink before whispering “not much longer princess” his hand gripping your thigh the rest of the ride home

Bart Allen - Letting Go Of His Hand

- your friends sent you the video saying you had to do it to Bart

- Bart is constantly touch deprived, he’s always hanging all over you 24/7 whether it’s holding your hand, playing with your hair, toying with the material of your shirt, rubbing your back, or literally anything else he could think of to be close to you

- that’s why refusing to hold his hand would be hilarious, especially in a grocery store where he had holding you down to a science

- as usual he had your hand clasped in his while he carried a basket with his other as you picked stuff to put in it

- holding in a laugh you tugged your hand out of his and started towards the produce, Bart stood completely baffled in the middle of the aisle then he quickly sped up next to you grabbing your hand again as you pretended not to notice

- him getting more frustrated as you let go again to turn a 180 and look at some apples

- he gave up on the hand and slipped his hand around your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss while you swerved to look at avocados

- que the whining “babeee, Y/N, why don’t you love meeee”

- “I do love you B!” you held up an onion with a smile as the pouting increased

- “if you loved me you’d hold my hand like always” he had the most adorable puppy eyes

- “Mhm in a minute!” you were shaking trying to hold in a laugh, pretending to be infatuated with the lettuce

- “Now!” he’d come up behind you, taking your hand and squeezing it, looking at you with the most confused, sincere look

- “I give up, it was just prank B” you laughed, intertwining your fingers with his as he smiled “terrible prank, wasn’t even funny” he’d make sure you made it up to him later with cuddles only then would he admit it was pretty funny

Tim Drake - I Want A Baby

- you had no idea what would happen with this one, but you knew Tim’s reaction would be priceless

- you’d decided the perfect time was your after dinner cuddles when the two of you would usually watch a movie or something before he went on patrol or began working on cases

- laying in Tim’s lap as he mindlessly ran his hands through your hair while scrolling through his phone you broke the silence “can we talk real quick?”

- he froze and put his phone down “uh yeah... what’s up are you okay?” his worrying nature kicking in

- “everything’s good! Better than good actually, perfect. So perfect that maybe we can spread all our love to someone else?” you tried to hint but Tim looked beyond confused

- “Someone else? Like another person?” you realized where he was going and stopped “no no! not like that, our own person, a baby!” 

- it took everything to hold in a guttural laugh as Tim’s entire face flushed and his eyes frantically searched yours “you, want, a child? Like our own kid?” Tim was processing and you could see him panicking

- “Yeah! Like a mini you or me! You’d have your own sidekick or Wayne Enterprise CEO in like 20 years!” you were biting the inside of your cheeks so hard to keep in laughter as Tim looked petrified

- “Y/N like now? You want a baby now? Like a literal child? In our home?” you nodded while he began taking deep breaths before continuing

- “You know I love you and we can totally have kids later in life but right now?! I’m always busy with WE and Red Robin and you’re still making a name for yourself! Shouldn’t we be established first? I mean there’s nothing I’d love more than having a bunch of min Y/N’s but-” it was adorable watching Tim spin out

- “Timmy I’m just kidding, when we’re older we can talk for real but I was just teasing” you sat up a little to place a kiss on his lips to help him stop hyperventilating “oh thank god” was all he said before kissing you back

- “You know our kids would be adorable though” you teased “yeah in like 10 years!” he replied as he calmed down, making you promise to give him a couple months before you pulled another ‘prank’ 

Jason Todd - Walking Out Naked

- in the 21st century Jason totally plays COD or R6 and gets really into it

- after a shower you had a towel wrapped around you and decided you wanted Jay’s undivided attention

- creeping out you can hear profanities being screamed at whoever he’s playing against drowning out your footsteps up behind him

- dropping the towel and coming into his view

- jaw: dropped. headset: off. Jason: horny.

- screaming something about an emergency he is fucking lightning fast scooping you up

- “babe you sure you don’t wanna keep playing your game” you teased, biting your lip as Jason was using inhuman speed to get you to the bedroom

- “I’d much rather play other games with you babe”

- the plan worked - Jason was totally focused on you for hours in every way you could’ve imagined possible, maybe this should be a weekly thing...

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Charlie’s 5✩ Inspiration: Daytime Spiritualities [昼日疑魂] Date Translation (Prologue)

“An eligible fiancée should always be prepared to make some sacrifices in the name of love.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Charlie’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *5✩ Inspirations have 5 Endings!! *CG Image used with permission from 蓝咕咕 ☆ *Charlie’s tag will be #For Night, For Paradox

Even the unluckiest soul in the world will one day meet a stroke of good luck at some odd point in time.

For example, I'd gone out to purchase some batteries last week, only to somehow win a chance to try out a new model of Home Projector. All I had to do was to give them feedback about it afterwards, and the projector was mine.

What a rare stroke of good luck! Shouldn’t I share some with the exceptional “Mr. Perfect” as well?

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Setting my mind to it, I dialled the number I knew by heart.

Charlie: How rare it is for you to be the one calling me.

MC: Cut the crap. I'm here because I need something from you.

MC: Are you free this Saturday, Charlie?

Charlie: I… probably don't have any shifts on that day.

Charlie: Ah, I know now. You're asking me out for a date? Please tell me it's not for a Saturday candle-lit dinner.

MC: Dream on. Dinner's a stretch and candles are a no-go.

Charlie: How dull.

Charlie: But, yes. You do have a point there. My presence overshadows any candlelight before me, so long as I am around.

MC: I'm starting to regret ever calling you.

MC: I'm not going to tell you what we're going to be doing so just wait till Saturday and you'll know.

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Saturday arrived much faster than I thought. I went out grocery shopping early on Saturday morning to give Charlie, "his highness", a grand welcome.

I passed the hospital on my way home when something extravagantly gold suddenly caught my attention.

A gold leaf-painted car. One with extremely showy butterfly doors. There, it stood; sticking out like a sore thumb amidst the calm serenity of the hospital.

This grandiose display of extravagance was something all too familiar to me…

Who else would do this, but Charlie?

MC: But… Why's he at the hospital today?

MC: Didn't he say that he didn't have any scheduled shifts?

Unable to restrain my curiosity, I decided to head into the hospital and have a look for myself.

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Hurried footsteps sounded inside the IPD (In-Patient Department) as people came and went. Medicinal bottles clinked, and soft murmuring came from the Doctors and Patients down in the Wards. The IPD’s corridor was already abuzz with life this early in the morning.

Yet, the door to Charlie’s office was shut tight with nary a sound.

MC: How quiet. Is he not in his office?

I gently pushed the door open, only to be stunned speechless by the scene that greeted me inside his office…

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Charlie was lifelessly sprawled on the floor. His eyes were closed, and it was deathly silent.

The fridge by his side was wide open. The enzyme drinks and the fruit and vegetable juices within were exposed to the open as the fridge expelled cool air. White sheets of document paper were scattered all over the floor.

MC: Charlie?

Said person sprawled on the ground didn't move a finger, much less make a sound.

"An Employee's Sudden Death In the Early Morning", "Inside the Medical Industry: Why Work Crazy Overtime Hours". Possible headlines started running through my head, causing my mental alarm bells to start ringing.

MC: Hey? Hey! Are you okay!?

I flung my shopping bag to the side, quickly reaching out to place my finger under his nose to check if he was breathing.

MC: Phew… At least he's still breathing.

Just as I was about to turn tail and ask for help, I felt my fingers get caught in a soft and warm hold.

Charlie: Wait.

MC: !?

MC: Are you okay?

The person on the ground reached out to pinch my trembling fingers, shaking them twice in what was supposedly affirmation.

The heart that had leapt to my throat upon finding him settled back down, but doubt still remained.

MC: How… How do you feel now?

Charlie raised his head in a daze, looking like a right mess with tired black circles under his eyes.

Charlie: %#*$&...

MC: ???

MC: Wait, were you just asleep earlier!?

Charlie was just like a lion who’d awoken from slumber. He leisurely rubbed his eyes sleepily, the action itself seemingly giving you the answer to your question.

MC: ……

I started to replay everything I’d seen earlier in my mind… Steady breathing, warmness, and even the ever so faint snoring that came out from his parted lips...

Looks like I'm truly the one who’d jumped to conclusions here.

Recalling how I’d totally been frightened out of my own wits upon finding him earlier, I suddenly felt my cheeks grow hot.

MC: But, why are you sleeping on the floor? Are you that tired that you just crashed on the spot?

Charlie: As if. I purposely chose to sleep on the floor.

Charlie paused for a second, gathering up all his documents that were scattered all over the floor before rightening himself and walking over to bask under the morning light that filtered in. However, the expression he wore was still a little out of place.

Charlie: Once you’ve tried out all of the high-end beds in the world, you’ll soon come to realize that the bed is actually a pretty inferior piece of furniture to be sleeping on.

Charlie: It is only by staying in tune with nature and reverting to primal nature that you can get the highest quality of sleep.

Charlie: And the ground is the one thing closest to nature.

MC: ...We're on the second floor here.

Charlie: I have my own manner of thinking.

MC: ……

Although it did sound ridiculous, Charlie was someone who could even the most absurd things miraculously come true. I think I've pretty much been… rendered speechless.

As I was rendered speechless, the initiator of this entire farce had settled back in front of his desk as if everything was as per usual.

Charlie: I'll have to congratulate you first, (Y/n).

Charlie: For taking the initiative to find my workplace; and advancing us a step further in our progress towards making it onto the "Guangqi City's Model Married Couple List".

MC: Sorry, but we don't seem to be married yet. So, there's no way we'll be up on that list.

Charlie: Keep at it and we'll soon qualify for it.

MC: You've got some thick skin…

Did I really need to worry about this man earlier? He has such thick and impenetrably hard skin that I don't know whether I should be pitying him or the floor his face smashes into.

MC: Still, what are you doing here on a Saturday?

MC: Didn't you say that you didn't have any scheduled shifts today?

I leaned over and stared at him with narrowed eyes.

His eyes were a little dodgy. And when paired with the dark eye circles under his eyes, it was a rare sight on this "pricelessly perfect face" of his.

Charlie: I came to the hospital today to… Ahem. To wait for my assistant to deliver the blood test report.

Charlie: Last week's report; dragged till today. I'm not one to say this, but the young doctors all have serious procrastination issues.

Charlie: If all doctors are like that, then who dares be their patient?

Charlie had his brow furrowed into a particularly deep crease at that. He turned his gaze outside the window with eyes as dark as the old senior director of the hospital, who had a head full of grey and ever so grave.

And when I moved closer to peer at the stack of documents on the table and the crooked and askew words… His face morphed into a look warmer than that of welcoming neighbours.

However, the problem here was that… Wasn't that "Ward Round Medical Records" written on top of those documents?

MC: This doesn't look like a blood test report.

Charlie: You can actually tell?

MC: If I squint at it… Your scrawl is most certainly…. Erm… Unique.

His face slightly changed at that. He swiped the document from my hand and shoved it under the table.

Charlie: Enough of that. There is no way that this can ever be my handwriting.

Charlie: My calligraphy was already level 8 out of 10 in middle school.

Charlie: This is clearly someone else's handwriting!

He purposefully angled his body so that his back was facing the documents and propped his hands on the table.

Charlie: And, back to you. Why are you in such a rush to see me?

Charlie: Come on then; let's hear it. Just where are you asking me out to?

My eyes moved to look away, the fluttery airiness in my voice no longer carrying its lilt.

MC: My house.

Charlie: ...That quickly?

There was an odd hint of hesitance in his tone, something different from his usual overwhelming confidence.

However, this minuscule hesitance of his was gone as soon as it came. Soon, the corners of his mouth lifted up as high as they could go.

Charlie: Tsk, tsk, tsk. Never thought you'd be more proactive at this than I.

Charlie: There's no need to refuse; no need to feel shy. I know.

Charlie: But still, just us alone… together? Don’t you think that’s a little too rushed? Shouldn’t you do this more romantically, at least?

MC: ...Are you still half-asleep?

Charlie raised his eyebrows before shooting me an overly enthusiastic wink.

Charlie: What do you think?

MC: If you're awake, then stop spouting nonsense.

MC: Long story short, I won a trial run of a new Home Projector model last week…

Charlie: So, you’re inviting me to your house to watch a movie with you?

I never thought that Charlie would understand what I was getting at so quickly. I hurriedly nodded.

MC: Yup!

Charlie suddenly perked up. He crossed his fingers in thought.

Charlie: I suppose that makes sense. First, a movie; and then slowly, step-by-step.

MC: ……

He “knowingly” quirks his brows at you, his lips curled into a satisfied smile.

All traces of sleepiness on his face had been wiped clean from his features. Charlie stands up from his desk, seemingly having been suddenly imbued with a burst of energy.

With a faint smile on his face, he stretches his slender fingers out to hook it around the handle of the leopard-print mug on the table.

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I was caught off guard as an oddly familiar sense of deja vu overcame my senses…

It was as if a lively, yet oddly out-of-place saxophone piece had started playing in the background of his deserted office.

And there he stood, slowly coming into the view of the lens, panning forth in slow-motion. Golden sunlight filtered in from the windows, kissing the contours of his face and highlighting his profile.

Charlie: ……

He hooks his fingers onto his tie, tugging gently at it. His collar loosens, revealing his collarbones that peek out from beneath his shirt.

The knot of his tie rested next to the third button of his dress shirt. It was undone, yet not quite.

He pushed back the stray strands of hair that had fallen out of place by his sideburns.

Charlie: Does something seem off?

MC: What do you mean?

I lifted my head to peer into his cup. I could only see his reflection reflected in the waters.

MC: Not really…?

Charlie: As it should be.

MC: ?

Charlie: It appears that I am still as glamorous as always.

MC: ……

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If Narcissus, the God of Narcissism who turned into a Narcissus, were to be reborn; then his reincarnation will be none other than Charlie.

In just a mere 2 seconds, Charlie was back to his usual pompous self.

Charlie: I'm going to get changed. Please give me a moment.

With that, Charlie briskly turns around and heads into the dressing room. He muttered lowly to himself as he went, the sound trailing after him as he disappeared into a corner of the room…

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Charlie: Charlie, I don't want to be the one to say this; but what’s the matter with you today?

Charlie: Passing out in the office! Your perfect image was almost ruined!

Charlie: Thankfully, I reacted fast enough.

Smiling, Charlie shakes his head helplessly at his own mirror image.

Charlie: Still, my posture is still so very charming, even if I did pass out cold on the floor.

Charlie: Oh, perfection; your name is Charlie.

Meanwhile, I was blissfully unaware of these small theatrics going on inside the dressing room as I waited for him outside….

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Since Charlie was out, I decided to take the chance to survey his office.

The multitude of silk award banners and certificates of merit displayed on the cabinet stupefied me. I couldn’t believe the fact that all these awards belonged to Dr. Zha, who was currently piecing himself back together in the dressing room.

Suddenly, my attention was drawn to the work calendar that hung at the door. It had Charlie’s familiar handwriting scrawled on it.

MC: Is this…

The door to the dressing room opens with a thud as Charlie appears by the window, now casually dressed.

I ended up blurting out the question that was festering in my heart.

MC: Charlie, were you… working overtime overnight yesterday?

MC: Just so that you could make time for me on Saturday?

I looked at Charlie, attempting to gauge the answer from his eyes. That was when I realized that his eyes were bloodshot.

Charlie freezes for a moment. Something clicked inside his brain as he realized that he’d unwittingly overlooked a small detail. His high spirits immediately dampened.

Charlie: Do you have to say it out loud for the entire world to hear? How unromantic.

His honesty confirmed the disbelief I’d felt upon the revelation. It finally made sense now.

Charlie: No need to feel overly moved by this. An eligible fiancée should always be prepared to make some sacrifices in the name of love.

Charlie: Of course, I have to be willing to make said sacrifice as well.

He faced me with utter confidence. The sincere look in his eyes made me think that maybe this was only right.

Looking at the childish chicken scratch on the calendar, I can’t help but suspect that this might just be how he is when he was actually being serious for a change.

Charlie: Stop standing around. Let's go.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹ 

Charlie led me out of the hospital. The engine of the flashy golden sports car roared as it brought us to my place.

I took my keys out and moved to open the door.

Suddenly, I recalled that it had been a long time since I last cleaned my room. I feel like I should say something about it first…

MC: I’ll warn you beforehand. My room is a little messy, so I’m sorry if it offends you, your highness.

MC: Express your distaste, and today’s session will end here.

Charlie: That's all?

MC: ...That's all.

Charlie: And here I thought that you were going to say something like, “Close your eyes, I’m going to blindfold you.”

Charlie: Or, maybe ask me for the right password before granting me entry.

Charlie: What’s wrong with a messy room?

He laughs, leaning down to place his hand upon mine, which was gripping tightly onto the doorknob. He gave it a small push. My hand moved along with the doorknob under the pressure he exerted, and the door creaked open.

Charlie: I can always help you move into our new apartment if you want a bigger room to place your things in.

Charlie went around me and walked straight in.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The lights weren’t on yet, but I could hear his voice in the dim room.

Charlie: Where's the mess?

Charlie: It’s pretty good; enough to house another person.

The embarrassment that had yet to completely set in was soon washed away by his teasing words. Relieved, I left the bag of snacks by the door and ran into the room.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Charlie was seated on the loveseat, his hands casually resting against the back of it.

MC: Your arms are stretched so far out. Made yourself at home, I see.

I patted the hand that he’d stretched out to lean against the sofa with a smile.

MC: I think distance makes the heart fonder between us.

Unfazed, he withdrew his hand without a word.

Charlie: And this is how you treat the evaluator you specially invited?

MC: Yeah.

Charlie: Can't you be a little more professional?

MC: Of course I can. But, I’ll also have to ask this evaluator here to kindly up his professionalism as well.

MC: Don’t get any funny ideas from your own fantasies during the movie.

Charlie knowingly retracted his “I own the world” sitting posture and moved further out.

Charlie: I can obviously do that.

Charlie: But, what if the person picking out the movie has their own selfish motives and chooses to watch some romance flick?

MC: No need to worry about that. We’re watching this today.

I sat down and turned the projector on. A shockingly red movie poster flickered onto the screen. Charlie's smile immediately froze in place.

Charlie: What… What is this?

MC: "Massacre of the Spirit". This is what we're going to be watching today.

Charlie: Massacre of… the Spirit? A horror film?

Charlie: Seriously, (Y/n)?

MC: Absolutely. My hard disk died not too long ago, so this horror movie is the only thing left in my cloud storage.

Charlie didn't reply, only mutedly leaning back against the loveseat.

His lips were pressed into a thin line, and he looked a little… nervous.

MC: Charlie? Are you scared of watching it?

Charlie: ...How absurd.

Charlie: The word "scared" doesn't exist in my dictionary.

Charlie: Don't go clinging to me in fright when the time comes.

With that, he casually pulls the blanket over our laps as if it was the most natural thing to do.

I peered up at him, but he cut me off before I even had the chance to thank him.

Charlie: No need to thank me.

Charlie: I can most definitely lend you this warm chest of mine if you get so frightened that you get the chills.

MC: Heh, there's no need for that.

MC: But, thank you for the blanket.

However, just as I was about to hit the play button, Charlie held my hand down.

Charlie: Wait, wait!

He reached over my lap and quickly smoothed over all the wrinkles on the blanket. He was very swift, almost as if he was handling white mice.

Charlie: Okay. You can start now.

Why's this man acting so strange today?

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I lowered the blackout curtains and the room darkened.

The screen before us flickered twice as screams and the sound of something tearing reverberated through the room.

The movie showed an autopsy room that was lit up as bright as the day with a withered human chained to the operating table. And hidden within the darkness, was a deathly sharp bayonet that was fatally poised.

It was then that Charlie brought something up. His low voice cut through the movie's colourful sound effects and entered my ears.

Charlie: Are you not afraid to see scenes like this?

Charlie looked at me, awaiting my reply…

How should I reply to him…?

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★ 

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Paradox⊹ —————★❖

[justlookingvm]

Tessa Virtue’s leap from Figure Skating Olympic Champion to Executive MBA | Kneading Dough Canada

https://youtu.be/JAAkEDRFJ1A

Host: Vinay Virmani

T: If you’re going to build something, you need options in your life. I’ll say this especially as females, it’s important to be independent. To feel like you can be self-reliant and to take care of yourself.

[Intro presented by Tangerine]

V: Tessa, welcome to Kneading Dough Canada.

T: Thank you so much for having me.

V: It’s a pleasure. Kneading Dough Canada is a financial empowerment platform as you know, where we talk money, we talk mindset, we talk about financial lessons that you’ve learned along the way to hopefully inspire the next generation.

T: Well I’m so grateful to be on, I really appreciate it. I think it’s always refreshing to hopefully lend that female lens but also maybe that perspective from the amateur sport world too.

V: Yeah, you know Tessa you’ve accomplished so much, both in your personal and in your professional life. As an athlete you have achieved so many incredible honours, you’ve represented us, this country of Canada at the highest of international levels, but what I’m really excited about is you’re about to add another accomplishment in the form of three very special letters, MBA behind your name. Talk to me about that decision.

T: It’s been you know lingering in my mind for a long time. Education was always a priority in my household growing up in my family, and I thought about law school for quite some time and then I retired at 28 or 29 and thought maybe that’s too long (giggle) and realized also I wanted to flex a bit of a creative muscle. So this MBA program has been a dream of mine for quite some time. I want to be a student again in every sense of the word and I’m eager to learn the ins and outs of the business realm and that corporate sphere that I’ve had a unique perspective of, you know for 10 15 years, but if I’m going to take on a new role whatever that may be then I really want to feel like I’ve adopted that rookie mindset once again, and earned my stripes, I’ve gotten the credibility to to deserve a place there.

V: I want to take it to the world of figure skating though, because the world of figure skating is so glamorous as a sport. You know

T: I wasn’t sure where that sentence was going to land. It could have gone so many directions.

V: I I’m so like fascinated by the world of figure skating because the glamour, the imagination, the costumes, the drama, the whole production value. It looks so beautiful and elegant, but behind it there’s also rigorous routine, training and it’s not cheap.

T: Uh huh

V: So growing up, dd you have those conversations with your family and did you understand the investment that it was taking to sort of put you through the highest levels of figure skating.

T: The 2 things that my parents were always wiling to invest in or prioritize were education and sport. And it was important to them that we were exposed to as much as we could be. I’m the youngest of four. You know I’m of two minds because on one hand I do believe they tried to shield me from the burden of that sacrifice, that they made for all kids and for you know all of these adventures. But I was also keenly aware of it. I knew the the toll and I knew the cost and um you know I felt that responsibility…

V: Was there anything that you remember early on where there was an incident or a moment where you were like, I recognize like you talked about the toll.

T: My parents were so conscious to ensure that I wasn’t carrying that weight, and yet I moved away from home  when I was 13 and I was kind of budgeting at that age for groceries and 7-eleven runs (laughs), whatever it is that a 13 year old needs. Taking taxis everywhere and I made a decision when I was 15 um to be able to do it on my own. My mom was always quick to say you know you have to look after yourself and you always have to make your own way and she was all about sort of creating that sense of security and freedom, so that I had options.

To be honest I had a tumultuous relationship with my father when I was a teen and I think it was just a decision, at that point. I didn’t feel right.

V: Yeah

T: I didn’t feel right accepting that kind of support anymore um and maybe it was a bit of pride you know, not wanting to

V: You don’t want to be dependent on anybody.

T: Totally. Yeah, and that’s not to say that I’m not aware of the privilege that I had growing up to have those opportunities. It was just a real marker of OK, if this is the path I’m choosing, um and I really need to make sure that I can I can do it on my own or in a way that really isn’t such a burden.

V: You know talking to you today has reinforced independence. You know being independent, not being dependent and and just being self-sufficient. And how gratifying that is, you know I think a lot of people, especially as you said, I hope a lot of young women watch this show and and really listen to your advice. And the fact that you took that decision at such an early age.

T: You know it’s interesting I found old journals not too long ago, and there was a page in one and I don’t know, judging by my handwriting I might have been 12? 11 or 12? And I had written my goals and that were, you know the to win the Olympics, be on Oprah, which I’ll settle for uninterrupted and Kneading Dough, uh buy a cottage, like buy a family cottage

V: Right

T: And at 12 that was on my mind and the feeling of walking into this cottage that my mom and I were able to dream of and then buy together, is so visceral and it’s it’s so much about, like I think back to being young and maybe not having, especially for her like that sense of security and and just really feeling like that can be a safe place now. Um so again it’s more of the representation of that.

V: I’ve heard you say something that has really resonated with me always because it’s something that I believe in. That the highs are so much better when you’ve experienced the lows. And obviously Scott Moir and yourself accomplished so many great things together. Something that I always try to tell the younger generation is, sometimes you have to just sit back celebrate your failures.

T: Well we learned to embrace it by making it part of our process, in that, not only did we anticipate failure and expect it and embrace it, well, we practiced it. So we learned to fall on demand, get back up, refocus, and

V: OK

T: be back into our program still trying to amalgamate as many points as possible.

V: You know I remember once um I must have been in grade school and I and I failed a few subjects. I was never a good student.

T: OK

V: And you know we didn’t have a lot of money at the time and I remember my my dad, I was really afraid to tell him that you know I’ve failed these courses and blah blah blah, but he said to the family, he said, alright everybody get ready we’re going for dinner. And we went to this restaurant that was only saved for like birthdays or anniversaries. And so we get there and he’s ordering all these great things on the menu and I’m like “dad, I don’t think you heard me like I failed, like I failed and here you are taking it t the restaurant.” And I remember he looked at me and he said “You know I want you to celebrate this failure. I want you to take it in because if you’re winning all the time, you’re not going to learn anything.”

T: Wow, and obviously that stayed with you

V: Oh yeah, you’re always going to learn so much more from the losses.

This next set of questions is called the two cents round, so you can’t overthink these things.

Tessa, we all know about your discipline but what do you splurge on?

T: Clothes

V: Clothes, OK, all right. What part of your budget are you working on lowering?

T: Clothes (big laugh). Actually not really because I will say, it’s more what it represents like part of that is like my I love it and it’s become also intertwined with my career and my brand if you will. Um

V: Its an investment in yourself.

T: I think so, that’s how I twist it

V: So, what is us the best financial decision you’ve made so far?

T: Hire the right people

V: Building the right team around you.

T: Yeah absolutely.

V: Describe your financial persona in just one word.

T: I want to say careful?

V: Careful.

T: Careful in that I’m strategic

V: I like that, OK

T: But I’m willing to have some fun.

V: OK, all right. Tessa if you could run any business, what would it be?

T:  My own.

V: Your own. OK. All right I’m not going to push you more. [Tessa laughs]. They say patience is a virtue, how long did your first paycheck last?

T: I mean I spent my whole career basically operating at a deficit, so everything went back into training. I worked towards certain things and the you know I was really fortunate to get some funding and bursary grants, and then eventually sponsors and um was able to build this little nest egg, but mostly  it went right back into training.

V: Tessa, this year we’ve been having such important and meaningful conversations about women in sport. And you know of course there’s such a long way to go for those conversations really to achieve equality, but as somebody who’s such a big advocate for women’s empowerment in sport, how do you feel that you want to lend your voice to those conversations?

T: I think, currently the biggest impact I feel I can have is really connecting with those young female athletes at that precipice of maybe dropping out um for all the heart breaking reasons that we’re learning about through research. Whether that is you know body image, or lack of self-confidence, lack of self-worth, it’s just not good enough. Like the access to resources, there are opportunities, um I think those conversations are really important and that’s where I’ve been feeling most fulfilled, when I’m able to connect with those athletes and you know I’ve been able to benefit from all of the lessons and the opportunities that sport has lended it uh to my life. And I just so want that for other female athletes. And you know we’re seeing that there are more mentors, more representation, more access to viewing these formidable female athletes, and I hope that resonates.

V: Tessa, we’ve uh had the opportunity to work on a few branded campaigns together. There’s this Tessa grace, and there’s this element of everything being held to a certain standard. In everything that you do, especially things that are public facing. Talk to me a bit about that.

T: I hate the word brand but I’m going to say it, my brand has been

V: I mean you definitely have a very strong brand

T: Well it’s been built on the very foundation of me and my personality and if those values aren’t upheld in every sense of you know the word, then I’m I’m not useful to anyone. Then I’m then no brand would want to hire me, um because it if it gets diluted, then I then I just think um it’s losing the very essence of what resonates with people. And I’m really careful about that like I only partner and pair with brands that I would authentically stand behind and feel really good about promoting.  

V: I love that

T: And I’m conscious of where I lend my voice and my likeness, a very clear mission statement, and you know I love to be hands on but that’s where like the creative fulfilment comes in

V: Right

T: And honestly that’s where the most successful engagement also comes. If I’m involved and it’s a collaborative process, um it’s much more successful for the brand too.

V: You know, over this past year, there’s been such a strong connection to mental health and financial wellness. Many Canadians have a very high debt to income ratio, which can be very stressful. For you, how do you protect not only your mental health, but when it comes to financial wellness. How do you really protect your sanity?

T: As an amateur athlete I grappled with that um day after day. I think it’s important to find purpose in saving and planning. So, you know my mom started those conversations with me when I was young but that was all to sort of plant the seed of like you need to plan for this. And if you’re going to build something you need options in your life. For me you know it’s helped having a corporation for example, because a lot of my money is tied up there and it it’s great um but, it’s also made me very careful and strategic in how I spend it.

V: What is your one big piece of financial advice to all young women out there?

T: Surround yourself with the right people and set yourself up for independence.

V: I love that. Financial freedom.

T: Financial freedom.

[doggernaut]

I have never done a remix of my own fic, but there's a scene in What I want to feel, I want to feel it now that I've always wanted to expand. In this particular scene, Bitty thinks about a high school crush, a boy he thinks might have liked him back. I had plans to return to the character later in the story, but the story went in a different direction and it didn't make sense to throw that bit in just because I liked it.

Still, I sometimes think about what it might mean for Bitty to run into this person in the future, when he's out and successful, and find out he did actually like him back. This fic plays with the idea, though it doesn't take place in the AU universe of the fic that inspired it.

Also on ao3

Bitty was 16 when he had his first crush, though he didn’t recognize it as such at the time. It would be a long time before he would connect the way he felt in the presence of certain boys—the way his cheeks would burn and his pulse would speed up, the way he’d replay the memory of a casual conversation on a loop when he couldn’t sleep at night, imagining different scenarios and outcomes—with the way people told him he should feel about girls. Back then, Bitty knew he was different. He just didn’t have the words to say how he was different.

Brady Hendrix wasn’t a friend, not really. He was a baseball player, a year Bitty's senior, and their paths would never have crossed had they not been paired up for a community service project that involved athletes teaching PE to elementary school students once a week during their normal study hall period.

Brady’s friends were stereotypical jocks—loud, cocky, dismissive of people who weren’t in their inner circle. Brady was different. He didn’t laugh as loudly (or at all) at his friends’ offensive jokes, and he was genuinely kind and patient with the third graders he and Bitty were assigned to teach. He was kind to Bitty, too. Brady didn’t play hockey, but he knew enough to keep up his end of the conversation when he asked Bitty how the season was going. It wasn’t a deep friendship, but they got along. Once, when the teacher at the elementary school canceled at the last minute, Brady drove them to the Dairy Queen instead of back to school. They ate their soft serve cones giddily, high on the feeling of having gotten away with something.

Brady started showing up to Bitty’s home games, usually alone, once with a cheerleader Bitty thought was his girlfriend but later found out was just a friend. “Good game,” he’d say when Bitty saw him in the halls the next day. Bitty returned the favor and went to a few of Brady’s baseball games, always with his friend Jasmine whose boyfriend played shortstop.

Brady got a scholarship to play baseball at UGA. Bitty ran into him in the snack aisle of the grocery store one night near the end of summer. “What’ve you been up to?” he asked, arms full of apples and butter.

“Not much,” Brady admitted. “Been working here most nights to earn money for school. My scholarship doesn’t cover everything, and books are expensive. They don’t tell you that.”

“Well, now I know.”

“You gonna play in college?”

“We’ll see.” Bitty had never seriously thought of playing hockey in college; he’d only picked it up to fill the gap where figure skating had been.

“You should. You’re good.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that—” Bitty shifted the bag of apples from one arm to the other. “You must be excited though, gettin’ to play college ball.”

“Totally. My dad and uncle both played so I’m carrying on the tradition, y’know? You should come to a game next spring. Or come visit for a weekend in the fall, once I get settled. I can show you around. You know, in case you’re thinking of applying.” There was an earnest hopefulness in Brady’s expression, like he really meant it.

“Yeah, maybe.” Bitty was about to say more when two of Brady’s teammates barreled around a corner and tackled him, knocking him into a potato chip display. They guffawed and high fived, glancing at Bitty but barely registering his presence.

“Oh shit,” Brady said as bags of Ruffles fell at their feet. “Sorry about these assholes. I better clean this up before I get fired for having idiot friends. I’ll see you around, Eric.”

“Yeah,” Bitty remembers saying. “Good luck in college. Maybe I’ll make it out to one of your games.” Bitty knew he wouldn’t. Something about it seemed too much, dangerous even. It was something about the way Brady looked at him, like he really saw him.

Bitty tells all of this to Jack one July night as they lie together in the double bed in the bedroom that used to be his. It’s too hot for blankets, too hot for clothes, even. They’ve stripped down to their boxers but it’s so darn hot it’s not even sexy. Not that it could be, with Bitty’s parents just down the hall.

“Sounds like he had a crush on you, bud,” Jack says, brushing a stray lock of hair off of Bitty’s forehead.

“Ugh, no,” Bitty moans. Even the feather-light brush of Jack’s fingertips is too much contact; Bitty reaches for the water bottle on the nightstand and presses it to the back of his neck. “No, he didn’t have a crush on me. It was more like … he was always quieter than his friends, more serious. I think he just felt like he could be himself around me.”

“Or, he had a crush on you,” Jack chirps. “Bits, he invited you to visit him at college. He was totally trying to make a move.”

“I don’t think so,” Bitty insists, but now he’s not so sure. Jack, after all, is a straight-passing jock who actually had a relationship with a boy when he was a teenager. And, as much as it pains Bitty to admit it, Jack’s gaydar has always been better than his. Exhibit A being that Bitty missed every single sign that the man by his side had a massive crush on him, until they were literally kissing. “I guess … maybe.”

“Anyway, why are you telling me this now?”

Jack knows all about Bitty’s romantic history—or lack thereof—before he came into the picture. Bitty isn’t really sure why he’s never told him about Brady, other than it’s not something he really thinks about. Once Jack asked Bitty who his first crush was and Bitty had thought for a moment before saying, “Well, you, I suppose.” Jack scoffed at that but Bitty explained that before Samwell, he kept that door firmly closed. He couldn’t even admit to himself that he liked boys; there was no way he could have a crush on one. Maybe he’d noticed Brady’s green eyes, or the way the guy in his math class smiled, but those weren’t crushes. They were just … Bitty noticing things. His first earth shaking, life shattering crush was Jack Zimmermann.

“It’s the weirdest thing. I guess he saw my tweet about my book signing this weekend and he replied asking if I remember him. Said he’s in town this week too and wanted to know if I have time to catch up afterward.”

“That’s nice.” Jack yawns. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m always happy to see old friends when I’m in town, and I’d love to get a drink afterward.” Jack snorts. “Are you jealous? You shouldn’t be. I told him my husband would be joining us.”

Now it’s Jack’s turn to groan. “Really, Bits?”

“Mama’s church friends are all gonna be at the signing, I’m happy to leave you to them afterward if you’d prefer. I’m sure they’d love to pour you a glass of wine and tell you how dreamy your dad was back in the day.”

“You know what? Drinks with the guy who had a crush on you in high school sounds great.”

(to be continued)

[dadsbongos]

He's Cool!

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia (Heroes: Rising) Dynamic: Izuku Midoriya/Reader (Katsuma and Mahoro/Reader - Platonic) Warnings: alluded to manga spoilers (like big ones) Summary: Izuku walks the eldest Shimano home and is given a teeny reward. ~~~

“Hey, hey! What do you guys think you’re doing?” (Y/n) called out to her little siblings, who had run out far ahead of her on the sidewalk, “Get over here, you two.”

Katsuma was immediate to rush back to his eldest sister’s side, Mahoro stomping and trudging her way to (Y/n) as the teenager was carrying groceries. Reaching up, Katsuma tightly clutched to the girl’s skirt, nervously bringing his other hand into his chest while Mahoro crossed her arms.

“Geez, I know that not a lot happens here but I still worry, you know?”

“Sorry, (Y/n),” Katsuma timidly mumbled.

Pursing her lips, Mahoro grumbled slightly before relenting, “Sorry…”

Setting down her groceries, (Y/n) knelt down in front of her little siblings with a small smile, ruffling both of their heads of hair, “It’s fine, just don’t go running off like that again, okay? I’m in charge of you, and I love you, if something happened - I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“Call that stupid ‘hero’ you’re staring at all the time,” Mahoro rolled her eyes, fixing her pigtails.

“Huh?” an uneven grin slipped over the girl’s lips, “Deku? I’m not staring at him all the time. He just passes by and I glance at his cool costume - I wanted to be a hero, too! I can appreciate someone following their dreams!”

Katsuma wrings his hands together as his sister stands and picks up the groceries once again, following after her as she walks, “You do glance an awful lot…”

“Deku’s just really cool.”

Mahoro blew a piece of hair from her face, “Not really.”

“Whatever,” (Y/n) lets that conversation die before picking up a new one, “I’ll be at work tonight, so Ms. Yakunitatanai is going to be watching over you when I leave, okay?”

“I can look after Katsuma by myself, you know? We don’t need a stranger in our house…”

“Ms. Yakunitatanai isn’t a stranger, she’s been babysitting for us since I was younger than you. Dad trusts her and I do, too. Besides, Deku patrols here often enough, I could get him to check in on you, too,” (Y/n) rose a brow at her baby brother, “You’d like that, yeah?”

She knew Katsuma looked up to heroes, and specifically, Deku seemed to be an inspiration to him - it was evident in the way his face lit up at the mention of the boy. It was adorable, to see the way he carried such an admiration through his life even though their sister ridiculed it.

Though, she understood her little sister’s disdain of heroes as well. The entirety of hero culture was sickening to (Y/n) even aside from the popularity contests. But she wasn’t about to crush a 6-year-old’s dream on her own hatred.

As the trio of Shimano siblings came upon their home, Mahoro pushed the front door open and held it for her older sister and little brother. Watching as (Y/n) set the bags on the counter and beginning to put away their frozen goods first.

Katsuma rushed over to his eldest sister’s side, reaching up and pulling at one of the bags until (Y/n) grabbed it and pushed it further onto the counter, “Careful, Katsu, there’s heavy fruits in here, I don’t want you getting hurt, okay?”

“Sorry…”

“No, no, you’re not in trouble,” the girl leaned down to kiss her baby brother’s forehead, “Here,” she handed him a smaller bag, “Put those away for me, ‘kay?”

“Hm, okay,” he peeked down into the bag to see toothbrushes and deodorant.

Mahoro came over, smugly reaching up and taking the bag with much less struggle than Katsuma could, and began putting away the melons. She looked over to see if her sister was watching - see, she was mature, she could watch them both. No need for Ms. Yakunitatanai to come over at all or that so-called hero Deku.

She could handle herself.

“I don’t doubt that,” (Y/n) hung up her cashier’s apron as her boss spoke, “but really, if you want me to walk you home, I will.”

“Thank you, Ma’am, I appreciate it, I do, but I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re certain. Be sure to call me if anything happens, got it?”

“Got it,” (Y/n) called over her shoulder as she clocked out for the night.

Leaving her boss at the store to lock up, (Y/n) looped her purse strap around her arm as she went walking down the sidewalk to her home. Well, her father paid for it while he was working, but she ran it.

While father was away, (Y/n) was in charge. She was able to balance work and looking after her siblings - and she wouldn’t trade them for the world. And when the school break ended, she could balance schoolwork on top of it all. She was the closest thing to a present adult that either Katsuma or Mahoro consistently had in their lives. She had to keep up appearances.

Maybe if (Y/n) lived in the city, or really anywhere with any sort of crime statistics, she would’ve been more alert at the sound of footsteps clambering behind her.

It was probably just some kid late home from a friend’s house. Easy enough solution to the question of their source, right?

That was until she felt hands pull at her purse, not nearly strong enough to even actually take it from her grip.

Yanking her purse, (Y/n) wrangled it to where she could finally see who had the gull to give a noncommittal purse snatching. Of course, she noted as her eyes found the perp, some elementary kid who needed a few extra bucks.

The kid’s eyes widened at having been caught, they widened even more so when he felt a hand grab at the back of his shirt. Turning up, the kid panicked at the sight of one of their new local heroes, Deku, holding him.

Setting down the child, Izuku gave him a lopsided smile, “You can’t just go around taking things that aren’t yours, if you need help you can always just ask for it. If you need money, just come to me - it’s a hero's job to help citizens!”

Scoffing, the kid only kicked Izuku in the shin before dashing off, “Dick!”

“Ah, Deku, are you okay?” (Y/n) came to the boy’s side, hands falling on his shoulders as he leaned over and clutched to his shin, “I wish I had some ice or something…”

“No, it’s fine,” Izuku awkwardly chuckled, desperately trying not to show how mortified he was to have been kicked in front of the girl, “Are you okay?”

“Of course, it was just a little inconvenient, that’s all…” she stood up as Izuku did, giving him a small smile, “I know that’s probably the most action you’ll see here, but thanks for everything you do around here. We all really appreciate your work.”

“Oh, thank you,” rubbing the back of his neck, Izuku was thoroughly grateful for the darkness hiding his reddened cheeks, “My classmates and I really enjoy being here, it’s just peaceful enough for us students to handle.”

“Right, your classmates,” (Y/n)’s brows shot up in remembrance of 1-A, “I forgot they existed…”

There was silence until Izuku awkwardly cleared his throat, nerves burning at his gut, “Can I… can I walk you home? It’s fine if not, I totally get it, why would you want a virtual stranger to walk you home I mean- “

“Deku, it’s fine,” resting a hand over his bicep, (Y/n) restrained herself from showing how awestruck she was at his muscle, “If you want, I wouldn't be against you walking me home.”

“Great!” he cheered before shaking his head, “I mean, cool… that’s cool. I’m glad.”

The pair walked down the sidewalk side-by-side. Izuku’s heart thrumming roughly into his ribs at the presence of the eldest Shimano. It was a bad idea, in hindsight, to develop such a crush on a girl on Nabu Island when he knew he’d have to leave by the end of school’s break.

But then again, he didn’t really find himself caring all too much when (Y/n) opened her mouth to ask, “So, how’s the mini-agency coming along? The only thing I’ve seen about agencies are Hawks’ PR nightmares.”

“Ah, yeah, he has a lot of those…” Izuku chuckled before sighing quietly, “It’s not too bad, which makes sense. I’m pretty sure U.A wouldn’t put kids in danger intentionally.”

“I don’t know, hero schools like that kinda rub me the wrong way…”

“I can see why, U.A does have a lot of mishaps, huh?”

“I’ve read about some of those ‘mishaps’,” (Y/n)’s eyes drifted to her shoes as they walked, “I’m sorry about all of that, I wouldn’t know how to deal with a villains attack, let alone three all before I graduated high school.”

“We manage,” Izuku shyly mumbled. He understood criticisms of the school, sometimes he even questioned the integrity of the board himself. Shaking his head, the boy changed the subject, “How’re Katsuma and Mahoro doing?”

“Aw, they’re great. Mahoro still doesn’t like you guys,” she giggled at how Izuku deflated slightly at the statement, “But Katsuma adores you all. He’s always wanted to be a hero so your class is a real inspiration to him, especially you.”

“R-really?” he stammered, lips pulling up at her words, “That’s great! I didn’t think anyone would find me to be an inspiration to them.”

“Who wouldn’t? I don’t even wanna be a hero and you inspire me to just… I don’t know - do good around the town,” (Y/n)’s hands tightened around her purse, “Your kind heart, cute smile, and golden brain - you're just so cool.”

As the pair came up to the girl’s house, Izuku’s blush grew stronger, “What was that?”

“Golden brain?” she turned after stepping upon her doormat.

“Before that.”

“Kind heart?”

“After that.”

“Cute smile.”

“Oh, so I- I didn’t mishear you,” he ran a hand through his hair, looking away from the girl sheepishly.

“Sorry if that was forward, I just think you’re really cute.”

Izuku shifted his eyes between his shoes and the girl’s eyes before bunching out, “Thanks… I think you’re cute, too.”

“Maybe we could be cute together sometime, when you’re not busy with the agency?”

“I’d like that! A lot, actually… eh, I’m not sure when that could really be but- "

“We’ll work something out,” leaning over, (Y/n) pressed a kiss to his cheek, “See ya around, hero.”

“Hah,” he covered his face as the girl went inside, barely gathering the sense to return a ‘goodnight’ to her with his brain still stuck on the way ‘hero’ rolled off her tongue.

Everything just sounded so much better coming from her and he didn’t care to find an explanation as to why.

[btsslowburnfic]

The Arrangement Chapter 9

Series Summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi.

Chapter Summary: Getting your bearings at BigHit

Previous chapter here ---------------------------

It’s fine it’s fine, Yoongi kept repeating to himself this morning after you had left to go to the security office. I’m not even home that often, it’s not her fault. He slipped on a t-shirt and jeans and went downstairs. He put his dishes away and looked in the foyer. Two suitcases and a backpack were sitting there. He couldn’t believe this was all you had. That’s it. He sighed and picked up the bags, wheeling them over to the guest bedroom. He looked around the room and frowned. He would need to order a few more blankets. He took out his phone and ordered some quickly. He walked into the guest bathroom. No towels. He placed an order for those as well. Even if you ended up living somewhere else, it was good to have extra towels and blankets, he reasoned with himself. 

He checked his calendar and yours. You should still be in the security office with Namjoon. He had already texted Hobi earlier.

Y:WTF dude, I thought you were my friend

JHOOOOOOPE: I brought a nice looking girl to your house, how is that not nice **angel**

Y: You can’t just drop someone off into someone else’s house without asking!

JHOOOOOOPE: It’s not my fault no one told you. I was told to deliver your new assistant to your apartment because you needed her to be available to whims at all times. I do what I’m told like every other person who works here. **shrug** it could be worse. I could use an assistant. Send her my way if it doesn’t work **Grin**

Y: >=(

Yoongi walked off the Elevator and saw Namjoon’s smug face there "What the hell is wrong with you?" Yoongi growled, walking up to him. He was surprised he didn’t see you anywhere.

"Not now Yoongi, I have a meeting in 15 minutes." Namjoon sighed. That fucking prick.

"You just dropped a girl into my house without telling me and think I'm not going to have something to say about it?" 

"You knew she was starting today. You agreed that the two of you were going through with all of this. What did you think that meant? Huh?" Namjoon said, almost bored.

"Why don't I get a say in any of this?" Yoongi raised his voice, exasperated. 

"You did. You picked her." Namjoon said calmly as he pushed the up button on the elevator. 

"This is such bullshit!" he yelled. You walked around the corner, surprising him. 

The elevator for Namjoon arrived and he got on it, not bothering to look back. 

You walked closer to Yoongi. "Hey. I'm sorry this was a surprise for you. It was to me too. I thought I would be in a dorm with a bunch of other girls." You gave him a sympathetic look. 

He took off his hat and ran his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry it's not you. It's just...ughhh…" He put the hat back on.

"Really. It's fine. It seems like Namjoon isn't interested in our opinions though, huh? I'm a good roommate. I'm quiet and I clean up after myself. And I can cook." 

Yoongi wasn’t angry at you, so his feelings had morphed into pouting at this point. "It's fine I put your bags in the guest bedroom." He pushed a button on the elevator. He sighed 

"Thanks Yoongi." you said, standing next to him. 

“And I can cook too. So don’t think that’s part of your job or anything.”

“Now what kind of wife would I be if I didn’t cook for you,” You teased as the doors opened up. You were surprised to see him blushing. He hit the button for the 12th floor, feeling like a total idiot.

You looked so cute and professional. He tried to not think about the fact you had seen him in his underwear that morning. He looked down, mumbling something, hoping you wouldn’t notice how embarrassed he was. He was eager to just get to his studio. He understood abstractly that the two of you would be spending time together but now that it was actually happening, he felt awkward and shy. And vaguely annoyed by everyone else. He got off the elevator with you following. “What are you doing exactly?” He turned and asked.

“I’m your assistant. I’m supposed to help you. Do I have a desk or anything? There wasn’t really an orientation. There isn’t anything on the calendar for the rest of the day.”

“Oh. Ok. Umm take the rest of the day off…? Go unpack?” He shrugged.

You scowled. “That doesn’t seem particularly helpful especially since you want me to move out.”

Yoongi sighed and continued to move down the hallway, “You don’t need to do that. There,” he pointed. “That’s Jiwoo. She’s the office manager for this floor. Ask her if she knows anything. I need to get to my studio.”

You had so many more questions but you didn’t want to bother Yoongi.“Ok. See you later.” You turned and walked over to the woman he had indicated to.

Yoongi continued on to his studio. He had no idea if you had a desk or not. He hadn’t really put thought into it. He cursed himself for not thinking to ask Namjoon about any of this. He detested appearing as though he didn’t know something, which unfortunately meant he hadn’t asked questions when he should have. Oh well. He hoped Jiwoo could straighten it out. Otherwise he would later today. He typed in his pass code and walked into his studio. Fortunately he felt inspired this morning and went straight for his notebook.  

“Hello. Excuse me?” You said as you walked up to the desk of the woman who had been identified to you as the office manager. She appeared to be older than you; her hair cut into a bob, she also had super cute glasses. She looked up. 

“Yes, can I help you with something?” 

“I’m Mr. Min’s new assistant, [Y/N]. Today is my first day and nobody really seems sure what to do with me.”

She laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me at all. They all do a great job with the big picture around here. But the details? That’s my specialty.” She stood up. “Follow me. Your desk is over here, near the lounge area. It’s a little noisy, but it’s across from the coffee maker. Which is important because Min Yoongi loves coffee.”

“Yes, thank you. That is like one of the only things I do know.” You smiled, grateful for any help.

“You don’t have a company laptop yet. I would expect it by Monday. You can do most things via the App though. If something does come up, let me know and we can work something out. Now, if you walk around the corner here,” she led the way. “We have some empty studios. If you ever need to rent space for any reason, they are available under the App. Mr. Min has his own studio so you shouldn’t need to book any spots unless you are helping with a collaborator. Speaking of, here is his studio. Good luck with that.” She pointed down to the doormat which had a cat flipping you both off. You laughed. You looked at the plate by the door. “Min Suga. Genius Lab.”

“Humble. Nice.” You pointed at the placard.

“He is really good though.” She said thoughtfully. She began to move down the rest of the hallway, pointing out the restrooms and arriving back at her desk.  “Also, don’t wait up on him. He’s in there most of the time. Follow your calendar. If you try to follow his, you’ll never sleep or you’ll end up with a sleeping disorder. Seriously. He sleeps in there sometimes.” She sat back down at her desk.

Your eyes bugged out a little bit at this. Damn that was some dedication. You hoped he at least had a futon in there then. Jeeze. “Alright. Thanks so much. I appreciate it.”

You almost wished you would have kept your desk plant now, looking at the empty space. You had a few office items in the bags in Yoongi’s house but nothing really worth going back for. A message popped up on your phone. **ORDER READY MIN YOONGI #2983627** You clicked on it. Apparently there was an order at the store ready for Yoongi. Because there was a store in the company building. Huh. Ok. I guess this is part of my job now. You looked up where the store was and headed down to the 2nd floor. It appeared to be a multipurpose grocery and home-goods store with also a few clothing items.  Looking around you found the *Pick up online order* section and walked over. You queued up and recognized the perfectly coiffed blonde hair of Namjoon’s assistant. 

You gave him a light tap on the shoulder. “Hey!”

Jimin turned around, surprised to see the girl from the interview last week standing behind him. “Hey you.” He smiled, “so you got the job?”

You nodded. “Yep. Sorry again about last week. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He laughed, his eyes turning into adorable crescent-moons  “I’m sorry I literally yelled “shit” at you. So I think we’re even.” He stuck out a hand, “Park Jimin. Nice to officially meet you.” You shook it. “I see you have figured out some stuff. You’ll be on the 14th floor with Yoongi right?”

“Yep. I just got my desk. That’s it. The rest of the day doesn’t have anything and he hasn't given me anything to do yet.”

Jimin turned to move forward in line, with you following suit. He turned back, “Well Yoongi hasn’t had an assistant before but if he’s anything like Namjoon he’ll figure out a million things for you to do soon. Once they get used to it they forget how to even use food delivery apps or how to do their own laundry.” He shook his head. “To clarify: I don’t do his laundry. I coordinate the dry cleaning.”

“And here I was imagining you washing Namjoon’s undies.” You teased, causing him to laugh some more.

“Noooo stop. I don’t want that mental image.” Jimin licked his lips. “If you’re not doing anything later you should join me and Tae for drinks. Not at Club Tokki.” You raised your eyebrows. “Sorry, I peeked at your resume. Think about it and let me know.” He cut the conversation short as it was his turn in line. He concluded his business at the counter quickly. He turned around, carrying a few paper bags. “I’ll see you around.”

You waved, “Alright, I’ll text you about later.” It felt so nice to be included on your first day. He seemed fun. You stepped up and held the QR code up for them to scan. You were handed two paper bags and a larger plastic one. You took them and stepped aside, reading the stapled receipt paper. **PINK TOWELS X 4** on one of the bags. **QUEEN SIZE BLANKET WHITE X 2** on the larger one. He bought me blankets and towels!?!?! You took the bags back to the apartment. Yoongi had taken your bags and put them nicely in the corner of your room. You were pretty sure this stuff was for the guest bedroom and bathroom but you didn’t want to seem presumptuous.

YN: Hey! I picked up your order from the store. Where should I put the towels and blankets?

You waited a few minutes, unpacking one of your bags.

Y: Those are for you. The washing machine is upstairs in the hallway. 

YN: Thank you so much. Pink is my favorite color!

Y: :]

You went and started a load of towels and continued to unpack. Holy shit. This was weird.  You went back upstairs with the blankets. The upstairs loft area had a more lived in feel to it, with blankets strewn over a black couch, a large tv, and a video game system. There was also a keyboard in the corner. There was a short hallway containing a closet and the washer and dryer. You assumed the door at the end of the hallway led to his room. You were a very private person yourself, so you weren’t about to intrude on that. You honestly felt weird being in the loft area, it felt as though the lower level was for show and this was where Yoongi actually lived. 

You moved some more laundry around and decided to head back to the office. You still weren’t sure about joining Jimin for drinks tonight. You decided you would wait and see what the laundry status was. You set a timer on your phone and went back to the office. You stopped by the lounge area and made a coffee for yourself while preparing a coffee for Yoongi. Another ping on your phone.

***EVENT ADDED SATURDAY 6 PM***

Retirement Party for Lee Soobin Akioko Flame Restaurant

The espresso stopped dripping. You added the water and then poured it over ice. You walked over to the studio and gave the door a knock. No answer. 

 You huffed in slight irritation while trying to get your phone out one-handed. 

YN: It’s me. I have coffee.

Y: Leave it by the door.

YN: :( But someone could kick it over

Yoongi took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

Y: Give me a minute.

He got to what he deemed was a good stopping point and walked over to the door, opening it the slightest bit.

“Here you go.” You handed him the iced coffee. 

He took it, eyeing you suspiciously.  “What?” You said, exasperated. You had lovingly hand-crafted this brew.

“You like shitty coffee so I’m worried.” He took a sip. His eyebrows went up. “This is not shitty. This is good. Where did you get it from?” He noticeably relaxed, the doorway opening slightly more. 

“I made it using the espresso maker in the break room.” You said. “I worked in a coffee shop before I was old enough to work in bars. Shitty coffee has to do more with sleep deprivation than actual preferences.”

“True true.” He said, his lips pouting as he took another sip. The sound of a phone ringing in the studio cut through the air. He scowled, making no attempt to answer it.

“Is that your work phone?” You asked.

“Yes. I imagine it’s Jimin or one of BPD’s assistants.”

“So...shouldn’t you answer it?” You asked.

Yoongi shrugged and walked into his office, not bothering to shut the door. You took this as a slight invitation and followed him in. You took a brief look around before the phone rang again and you identified it’s location. You walked over and picked it up. “Genius Lab. This is [Y/N] speaking.” 

Yoongi turned around to ask what the fuck you were doing but then you had sounded so professional, he just plopped down in his work chair instead, a dumbfounded look on his face.

“I’m not sure. I’ll find out and get back with you. What’s the number?” You took out your phone and typed the information in. “Ok yes. Thank you.” You hung up the phone. 

“What are you doing exactly?” He asked. You weren’t sure if he was angry, amused, or confused. He was difficult to read sometimes.

You smirked. “Being your assistant. Would you like me to have this phone forward to mine so it doesn’t ring in here?” 

Yoongi’s eyes grew slightly wider, “You can do that?”

“Yep. There’s an app for it.” You responded, happy some of your previous office experience actually translated to this position.

“Yes. Please God yes.” He said quickly. 

You laughed, setting up the forwarding application. You picked up the phone to see what the number of the studio was. “Alright. I can at least triage some of the calls for you.” You said, satisfied with yourself. “Also. Ew.” You eyed a few take-out containers and coffee cups. “I’m coming back for...this.” You gestured to the room and excused yourself to get a trash bag. 

Yoongi sat there slightly dazed. He rarely let anyone into his studio and yet you had just come in, fixed his phone anxiety issue, and also scolded him. He scrolled through his phone, seeing the event on Saturday. It was annoying but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad with you and J-Hope there. Maybe. Even if it all was a stupid pretend performance.

You retrieved a trash bag from the break room and came back. You started cleaning without saying anything. It was becoming obvious that Jiwoo had spoken the truth, Yoongi really did spend most of his time in here. You made your way around the surfaces, throwing trash away. To your shock, Yoongi just sat there, drinking his coffee and scrolling through his phone.

“Thanks again for the towels and blankets. It was very thoughtful of you.”

“No problem.”

“Are we going to the party on Saturday?”

Yoongi looked up at you, “Sure.”

And just like that, you had committed to your first event at BigHit. “Alright, I’ll let Jin know.”

Yoongi shifted in his seat slightly, “is that who called?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Has he hit on you yet?”He asked casually, belying the fact that he was actually very interested in how you would react to the infamous flirt. 

You giggled. You were almost all the way done tidying up. “Of course. Have you seen his face? He had to let me know how in demand it is at all times.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, him and Namjoon stopped by the bar last week. Idiots.”

“Agreed.” Yoongi felt his body become more at ease with your answer. He didn’t know why he cared.

You looked around the spartan room. “Alright. I’m all done. Do you need anything else?”

Yoongi put his phone down. “Just to get back to my writing.”

You were so very curious but you didn’t want to intrude. “Sure thing. See you later.” You picked up your trash bag and left the room, shutting the door behind you. You were honestly surprised at how easy your day had been so far.  You sat the trash bag down by your cubicle, unsure of where to deposit it.  A text to Jiwoo about the dumpster and an RSVP to Jin about the party on Saturday and your day was almost done. You dropped the garbage off on your way to the apartment to switch out laundry. You were getting tired.

YN: Hey! I’m going to take a rain check for tonight. I am so tired and I still need to unpack ;-; I do want to though, so don’t think I’m blowing you off. Lunch tomorrow? 

JM: Shit I totally forgot you would need to unpack and everything. Sorry. No worries. Also, check your schedule, we have a huge design meeting around lunch time so they will most likely have it catered. I’ll buy you a drink on Saturday if you actually get Yoongi to attend.

You raised your eyebrows. It was on the schedule clear as day, on you and Yoongi’s calendar. Why wouldn’t he attend?

YN: Of course he’ll be there. Why wouldn’t he be?

JM: HAHAHAHA good luck. See you tomorrow!

It was already after five so you didn’t bother going back down to the office. You finished the laundry and finished your unpacking. And then you stood in the apartment just staring. The sun had gone down and the windows had a lovely view of the city. You could see part of the river and one of the many lit up bridges. You turned on the kitchen light. Shit. You had no idea what the food situation looked like here. Your stomach growled. You took some rice out of the cooker, leaving enough for Yoongi and sat at the countertop. 

You opened up your personal email. You had paid the dorm deposit for your brother, using your “disappear in the middle of the night and change your name again” emergency fund to pay for it. It had scared the shit out of you to pull all your money from savings and you still were secretly afraid that the job was lying about how much money it would pay you. Before you knew it, it was 9. 

YN: Hey, I ate some of the rice but I don’t want to just go through your kitchen. Do you want me to order or make anything?

No response. Ok. He was probably busy. You rifled through the cabinets. If his office was any indicator there should be at least a few ramyeon packs you could eat and replace. Bingo. You made a spicy prawn one and texted one more time.

YN: I owe you a spicy prawn ramyeon pack. Thanks again for everything. See you tomorrow.

You set the coffee maker for the next day and brush your teeth. You nestled into your new bed complete with one of your new fluffy blankets. You couldn't remember the last time you had your own bedroom. It was before your sister was born. The two of you had always shared a room. And then 7 years ago you started sharing a room with her and your niece. You took a deep breath, feeling as though you were letting 7 years of bullshit go all at once. If only it were all so simple. NEXT CHAPTER @lidda  @anpanman-sonyeondan  @firefairy1  @cuteipat  @sugaslittlekookies  @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes @gxldenhunny

[theycallmebecca]

Drabble: The Ass-sistant

When I claimed this anon prompt for @the-ce-horniest-book-club​ I had other story ideas in mind... but after my little adventure yesterday afternoon, I was inspired in a totally different direction. So part of this is what actually happened to me... and the other part is just made up. I’ll let you figure out which part 😉

[Edit] Silly me forgot to tell you what my prompt was! It was an anon prompt for “Is this a bad time to mention that I prefer to sleep naked?”

Title: The Ass-sistant

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: language

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

When you cancelled your date with Chris, you hadn’t expected him to show up. The two of you had only been dating for a couple weeks.

But there he was, standing on the other side of your front door with a grocery bag in both hands and a backpack thrown over one shoulder.

“Damn,” he muttered as he took in your appearance from the brace on your ankle up to the bandages covering your palms. “You really messed yourself up good, didn’t you?”

“I’ll be ok,” you assured him. You hurt like hell, but you’d hurt your ankle before and had recovered fine. Granted, you’d never rolled your ankle and landed on asphalt. This time you had, and you had the road rash and cuts on your hands and knees to prove it.

It was that accident, which had occurred when you’d been walking down the long driveway of your apartment complex to get your mail, that had caused you to cancel your date with Chris. You’d been honest with him on your reason and, clearly, he’d come to help.

“Have you eaten yet?” He asked after you led him into your apartment

“Not yet, I was going to order in,” you replied.

“No need, I brought dinner,” he told you. “Sit down and get your ankle up. I’ll bring dinner to you.”

You watched from the couch as he made himself familiar with your kitchen.

It wasn’t until a familiar scent reached your nose that you realized he’d gone to your favorite restaurant and picked up your favorite meal. That had been the original plan for the evening, but he hadn’t asked you what you wanted. Obviously, he had remembered the fact from an earlier conversation.

“Tray table?” He asked.

“In the closet by the front door,” you replied.

From where you sat, you saw him walk down the hall and open the closet. It wasn’t exactly a Monica Geller secret closet of shame situation, but it wasn’t super organized either. You held your breath as you watched him dig around, but it only took him a couple seconds to unearth the two hand-me-down tray tables. Then he closed the door to the closet without a word.

Five minutes later, you sat with your ankle resting on a pillow with your favorite dinner on a tray table while Chris sat in a matching armchair eating his own dinner. 

“Thank you for this,” you said to him. “I didn’t want to cancel, but I couldn’t see any way around it since I can barely walk.”

“I hated the idea of you here by yourself,” he admitted. “And I’ve been there. Getting hurt is the worst.”

You both chuckled at that.

“I, uh, brought stuff over to stay the night,” he said, meeting your eye. “Not to do that but in case you didn’t want to be home alone tonight.”

You didn’t answer right away, partly because you had just taken a bite of your dinner but also because you needed a moment to think. You had been toying with the idea of inviting Chris in after dinner for that reason, but that plan had gone south with your injuries.

You had spent the last couple hours hobbling around your apartment and it would be nice to have some help. It also meant you got to spend time with Chris and that made you happy.

“I’d love for you to stay,” you told him and then took it a step farther. “You can stay with me in my room or on the couch, wherever you’re the most comfortable.”

“I’ll do whatever helps you sleep better,” he said seriously, but you could see something in his eye that revealed his true feelings. He wanted to sleep in your bed with you. “That’s the most important part.”

“We’ll decide later then,” you replied with a smile.

Once you finished eating, Chris got an ice pack out of the freezer for you to ice your ankle while he did the dishes. He went above and beyond your expectations when he not only took care of the dishes the two of you had used for dinner, but took care of the dishes in the sink, too. And wiped down your kitchen counters.

“Are you really here or am I just having a really good dream?” You asked him as he came to collect the ice pack.

Instead of answering, he leaned over the back of the couch and kissed you on the mouth. Leaning into the kiss, you brought a hand up to rest on his jaw and forgot about everything. Until your ankle moved.

“Fuccccccck,” you cried out, pulling away from him.

“Fuck, damn it,” Chris echoed. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s my fault,” you said through gritted teeth. Looking up, you met his eyes and gave him a small smile. “I liked the kiss.”

A worried smile crossed Chris’s face and he sighed before he carried the ice pack back to the kitchen. Then he shut off the light in there and made his way back to the armchair.

“No,” you said before he sat down. “Sit with me, there’s enough room.” Then, because you could see the hesitation in his eyes, added, “you won’t hurt me, I promise.”

He studied you for a second before he sat down next to you on the couch. Given that you were sitting sideways on the couch with your ankle resting on a pillow, it was a bit tight, but the two of you made it work. He even pulled you back a little, so you were resting against him.

It took you two a good ten minutes to pick a movie to watch, before he suggested that the two of you just watch your favorite movie.

By the time the movie ended, it was time for another ice session and pain reliever. Not to mention a potty break.

You could feel Chris’s eyes on your back as you limped down the hall to the bathroom. You knew he wanted to offer his assistance, but there were some things a girl had to do by herself.

When you came out of the bathroom, he had the ice pack ready for you as well as a small snack and pain reliever. While you rested, he double checked the doors and windows, making things were locked up for the night.

You could feel the stress radiating from him twenty minutes later when he followed you to your bedroom. Your anxiety over everything was high enough, you didn’t need his added to it.

“Do you need help changing?” He asked.

Finding your opening to lightening the mood, you tipped your head to the side and said, “Is this a bad time to mention that I prefer to sleep naked?”

He blinked in a stunned silence for a second before you started to laugh, and he followed your lead.

“In all seriousness,” you said, looking at him. “I’m happy you’re here with me tonight and that I’m not by myself. And you’ve been an absolute gem, I just need you to relax because you’re going to get me worked up again and then I’ll cry and -” You stopped talking as the anxiety from earlier started to build in your chest.

Then Chris was there. He wrapped his arms around you and held onto you as he whispered quietly, reminding you to breath. With his helped, you managed to pull yourself together.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him.

“Anytime,” he replied seriously. “I’ll go change in the bathroom and let you do whatever in here. Call if you need me.”

A short time later, you lay in bed next to Chris, trying to get comfortable, but not finding a comfortable position. It wasn’t your ankle cause the issue, however, but the muscles in your butt. After taking the brunt of your fall earlier in the day, those muscles had been ignored thanks to other immediate and demanding issues. And now they were making themselves known.

“Are you ok?” Chris asked. “Do you need me to go to the couch?”

“No, stay,” you said through gritted teeth. He had positioned himself as far to one side of the bed as he could without falling off, just to make sure you had enough room.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. There was a hint of worry, but he had taken your words about anxiety to heart.

“It’s embarrassing,” you sighed as you closed your eyes unable to look at him. “The muscles in my butt are screaming at me.”

When he didn’t respond, you opened your eyes and regretted it immediately when you saw the amused smirk on Chris’s face.

“It’s not funny!” You exclaimed. “It hurts.”

“I’m sure it’s a... pain in the ass,” Chris snickered.

Groaning, you rolled into your stomach in hopes that position would work better. It didn’t.

“Would you like me to help?” He asked attempting serious while amusement was still laced in his tone.

“Like what, rub my ass?” You asked, turning your head to look at him.

“It might work,” he replied. “I assume you need something deep and therapeutic rather than just a groping.”

“Definitely deep and therapeutic,” you agreed but then offered. “You can save the groping for another time.”

“If you want me massaging your ass to stay just that, you’ll need to keep those other comments to yourself,” Chris stated as he pushed the blankets off both of you.

“Those sounds too,” he added when his first, deep press into your butt made you moan.

“I’ll try,” you replied as he continued to work.

After twenty minutes of getting familiar with your butt over your pajama shorts, Chris removed his hands and asked, “How are you feeling now?”

“Much better,” you replied, sleepily. “When my hands get better, I’ll give you a massage, too.”

“It’s a date,” he said with a laugh. “Get some sleep.”

“You need to sleep, too,” you told him, looking at him. “I’m ok, Chris, just sore. I promise.”

He held your eye for a second, but eventually nodded. “I’ll sleep,” he promised.

And he did. When you woke up the next morning, still sore psychically, he was fast asleep next to you, which made your heart fill with happiness.

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

EVANESCENCE's AMY LEE On 'The Bitter Truth' 'I Want People To Come Away From This Album Feeling Hope And Empowerment And Strength'

EVANESCENCE will release a new album, "The Bitter Truth", on March 26 via BMG. The band's first collection of original music in ten years can be pre-ordered as a digital version, CD, vinyl and a limited-edition deluxe fan box set featuring a bonus CD, journal, poster and special cassette of exclusive audio from the making of "The Bitter Truth". Every pre-order will automatically come with downloads of already-released songs "Wasted On You", "The Game Is Over", "Use My Voice" and "Yeah Right".

In the official biography accompanying press copies of the new album, EVANESCENCE singer Amy Lee stated: "When we first set out to make our new album, 'The Bitter Truth', we had no idea of the pain and hardship that the world would soon face. While the planet suffered through the tragedies of COVID, racial injustice and economic upheaval, my band and I were dealing with the aftermath of our own losses, the unexpected passing of my brother, the sudden loss of a child by Tim's [McCord, bass] family, and the virtual loss of our guitarist, Jen [Majura], who has been literally stuck in Germany, unable to travel to record with us in person in the studio.

"Somehow through all these challenges, a theme began to emerge for us as a band. Pushing through is better than giving up.

"After touring extensively on our orchestral album 'Synthesis', we knew we wanted to make new music. In between shows throughout 2019, we set aside time to create together. A few days at my house, a week in the woods, just making use of our time together and getting excited about the seeds that were starting to grow. By the end of that year, we had the foundations of several new songs and the beginnings of many more. After recording four songs with our old friend and producer Nick Raskulinecz in his Nashville studio early last year, we knew we wanted to make the entire thing together. The energy and creativity was electric. Then, all of a sudden, COVID stopped everything. The pandemic turned the world upside down, forcing the album to be done sporadically, and at times separately, throughout 2020. We had to think creatively about how to do pretty much everything from that point on. Almost like it was the first time. There was never question, though, of not continuing.

"We had something special in that room when we recorded those first four songs and they carried us through last year. It was a big leap of faith to just go for it with the album and not wait or hold back or have any certainty about when we'd be together again, but we just knew we wanted to release our music and connect with our fans. We needed that connection, perhaps even more than our fans needed us. We wanted to be something in the world that wasn't a disappointment amid so much other bad news. We wanted to be part of the proof that life would go on.

"I never want us to repeat ourselves and I like to allow total freedom in the creative process, so we started experimenting with whatever felt good, taking it at times to a new level entirely, just everything coming from a real, honest place out of the love of music — nothing off limits. But all those rock shows we had been playing over the past few years really strengthened the roots of the band, and that sound and energy was cathartic. I'm who I've always been. Once again faced with darkness, I'm writing to heal. So here we are, naturally, making a brand new fiery chapter of the story we all love. This beautiful truth has been reconfirmed for me — it wasn't just a phase the first time around, and I wasn't wasting my time. These sounds come out of my heart when I'm being honest and I'm making music that feels like a reflection of myself. I'm proud and grateful to still have my band after all we've been through and all I've been through. As much as this album is an evolution, it also feels very full circle.

"The title, 'The Bitter Truth', speaks on one level to the world we live in today, in the belief that we must face reality, no matter how ugly or difficult that is, in order to move forward. But there is also an internal parallel: there can be no healing without first facing the pain. The bitter truth, for me, is that life is short and the choice is that I'm not going to waste it. Our mortality is fresh in our minds. This became fuel for our fire after the pandemic, the lockdown, through 2020 and making this album. We decided we weren't going to let anything stop us. We weren't going to wait around for the world to fix itself. We were going to put all our focus into finishing the album we started. Find new ways to keep on, make our own videos, whatever it took. This time has been hard, but having the music has been an incredible life-giving outlet for me and for all of us in the band. It was a place to pour our frustrations, our rage, our grief and our love to create a world we had some control over.

"Now for some typical bio stuff: They tell me that our first album, 'Fallen', is one of the Top 5 best-selling albums of the 21st century, and the biggest seller by both a band overall, and a rock act overall, if you're keeping score. We've won two Grammys and earned one of the largest social media followings of any music act (thanks, guys!) Someone wrote that our single 'Bring Me to Life' has been a 'pop culture touchstone' for the past two decades. It's still totally weird to me when it comes on over the speakers at the grocery store. These achievements and words of praise are nice but what's more important to me is that our music continues to inspire people to create things. Writers have written books inspired by our songs, fans have created their own anime. Films, music, visual art, even vehicle design. I know what this means because of the artists that have inspired me too. What I'm most touched by is what has grown into an immensely powerful, passionate worldwide fanbase who have a genuine connection with the music — a sacred place where we come together. 'The Bitter Truth' is meant as a gift to you, reflecting hope out of the struggles we all face.

"I want people to come away from this album feeling hope and empowerment and strength. Something that inspires me a lot in life is people who have overcome great obstacles — survivors. I hope we can pass on the idea that even when things are impossibly painful life is worth living. Leaning into those darkest, most challenging moments, facing them and finding we're not alone in them, makes us real. Makes us strong enough to take them on. And it brings us together, if we let it, in a deeper appreciation of the light... and the truth. Thanks for the memories. Now let's go make some new ones."

[elldell1204]

I Sing for Love - Jay Halstead x Reader

fofisstilinski: hi, i would like a jay halstead with prompts 3 - “Can you just shut your mouth?”, 60 - “But I want to hear you sing.”, 63 - “I think I love you.”, please, thanks

Thank you for this! ❤️ I didn’t reblog @darkdisrepair ’s prompt list to be getting them, but they kindly let me use them so definitely go and check them out. Their Upstead fics are like no other! They’re genuinely amazing. 😘 Anyways, I really loved writing this one. I did alter some of the prompts slightly to make them work in the sentence, by the way. Also, I’ve been playing The Last of Us II recently, and this fic was partially inspired by the scene of Ellie playing the guitar in the music store. I’ve linked it down below so you can listen to the song I mean, as it’s really beautiful and thought it’d fit nicely here. I hope you like it, even if it is a little long-winded. Enjoy! 😊

Warning: couple swear words, may make you cry :( sorry!

wc - 2,783

Click here for the song

Admiring the pile of untouched boxes in the otherwise empty corner of the living room, you took a moment to finally let it sink in. ‘I’m moving in with Jay.’ It was a seemingly simple event to anyone else, but for you and your best friend, it was a huge step forward in your hopefully long life together. Because you knew this was it. You had shared your heart, your mind, your soul with Jay Halstead, a feat you had never even come close to achieving with any of your other boyfriends, not that there were many.

It was scarily similar how alike you two were, yet at the same time, you were totally different. You were both quick-witted, divergent thinkers, aware of the true horrors of the world but in different lights. He had first discovered that when his father gave him ‘tough love’ as a child, a trait he vowed never to adopt. Next was when he saw the travesty that is war; tragic losses of friends as their lives are ripped from your hands by beings you could swear weren’t human, the methods of finding information that haunted you in the form of your worst nightmares, the survivor’s guilt that plagued your everyday when you came home to the widows of the men you fought so hard to save, but unfortunately it wasn’t hard enough. It was a miracle he was able to pull himself out of that hole, and still, he hasn’t fully. But with your help and Hailey’s, he’s surviving. Knowing him now, you weren’t surprised that Jay went into the police force after his active duty. Some say that Chicago is a warzone in itself, but he knew that he could endure this one. After all, the heart he possesses wouldn’t have allowed him to do something with his life that didn’t help others. One of the many reasons why you loved him. Every day he sees the scum of the world, but when he manages to help someone, it reminds him of why he does it. And he knows when he comes home to you, he’s safe. You both know that. Because you have each other, and you protect one another, physically and mentally.

You weren’t on the front lines like Jay was, but still you saw the suffering and agony the world withstands. You were an ASA, a dream you had since you were a child. From the age of three you were better at arguments than any other child on the playground, something your dad used to tease you lovingly for your whole childhood. He told you to “chase your dreams until they become reality, because you would never forgive yourself if you didn’t”. You had asked him why he seemed so forlorn when he said the last part, sat on your bed one night after he’d read you your story. That was when he told you about his dream of becoming a singer, an almost unachievable dream, but one he worked so damn hard for. You asked what happened, and he relayed how his mother became troubled with drinking and drugs after his father left, and so he, being the eldest child, had to work to provide for the family, and so his dream stayed a dream.

You remember saying “But, Daddy, you can still be a singer. I can be your audience.”, and you can still see the smile that spread across his face at your words, the expression being etched into your memory ever since. That was the night he decided to make you his protégé, teaching you how to play guitar and singing with you. This went on for years, and by the time you were thirteen, you were both playing along together, serenading and smiling without a care in the world.

But it wasn’t long before your world crashed down around you. You were seventeen when you got the call, walking out of school one afternoon, with the biggest of your problems being a boring geography assignment, when your mother told you to get to the hospital instead of going straight home. She wouldn’t – more like couldn’t – tell you why over the phone, and as you rushed to Lakeshore Memorial Hospital, your mind was racing with possibilities.

Your dad had collapsed at work, luckily not severely injured, but after running further tests, it was discovered he had stage four lung cancer, and there was nothing they could do. You barely left the hospital the next few weeks, sitting by your father’s bedside as he drifted in and out of consciousness, coughing one minute and throwing up the next. He managed to stay awake a few hours a day at the start, holding your hand and telling you he loved you, retelling stories from his childhood and yours. But when his lungs got weaker, he asked you to bring in your guitar and sing to him, seeing as he couldn’t do it himself. “Music makes me almost as happy as you do, my darling.”

So you did. You sang until your voice was hoarse, until you fell asleep mid-verse, until your fingers and thumbs were blistered. Your mother sat like a mannequin in the chair on the other side of his bed, holding his hand, treasuring the feeling. The feeling of the man you lost too soon.

“If I ever were to lose you, I’d surely lose myself. Everything that I’ve found here, I’ve not found by myself.” You sang, tears pricking at your eyes. You looked up, gazing over at the weak form of your father. If it wasn’t for the machine hooked up to him that was beeping quietly but steadily, you may have thought he was already gone. He was that debilitated, with his limbs laid straight, outlining his body, his eyes closed and his lips, that seemed paler than ever before, the only landmark in the vast ocean of ghastly white that had replaced the face once full of life and laughter.

You laid your guitar back in its case before moving closer to him, intertwining your fingers with his, scared at how cold they felt already. You looked over at your mother. She was silently crying, her eyes rimmed red and streaks traced down her cheeks, and she nodded her head at you.

You sniffed, letting the tears that stung your eyes fall as you stood, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your father’s forehead.

“It’s okay, Dad.” You whispered. “You can go now. Go be at peace. I love you.”

And after a deep breath, you turned to the doctor that stood at the doorway. “You can take him off life support now.”

You let the tear flow down your cheek for a few seconds before you wiped it away. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the sadness. You had a job to do.

You had officially moved in with Jay a few weeks ago now, but due to your busy lives, the only things you had unpacked were the bare necessities, most of which were already dotted around your shared apartment.

It still sounds weird to refer to Jay’s apartment as your own. You practically lived here before he asked you, anyways, seeing as yours was a lot smaller, in a worse neighbourhood and had a lot of noisy neighbours. It was practically the complete opposite to Jay’s, his being a two-bedroom condo with sweet Mrs Elizabeth Bailey next door who you often helped out by carrying her groceries or fixing a dodgy cupboard door. She was like a great aunt to you both, inviting you round for dinner or baking you some cookies every so often. Many a time had she told you about her late husband, Tommy, and their stories from their lives together. Both you and Jay loved to hear the tales of their adventures, and you were saddened that you never got to meet him. One night, you sat close together on Lizzie’s couch, Jay’s arm wrapped around your waist as you leant into his chest, admiring a photo album she had passed to you as she recalled the memories linked to each image from her armchair. She had surprised you when she suddenly said, “You two remind me of Tommy and I; hopelessly in love.” You looked up and smiled at her, a twinkle in her eye as she remembered her husband, and you felt Jay pull you just that little bit closer.

It was also that night, when you both returned to his apartment, that he asked you to move in with him.

And now you were rummaging through your stuff that was packed into boxes, pretty much half of your life stuffed neatly into them. Looking through each one, you realised how little each of the material items mattered to you now that you knew Jay. Apart from the photos of friends and family, the odd keepsake you’d collected over the years and meaningful gifts from various birthdays and Christmases, it was all just junk. At least you thought so until you spotted your guitar case tucked away into the corner.

You took a deep breath before reaching over and picking it up, getting to your feet as you carried the case over to the couch. You sat down slowly, your heartrate picking up even with your meticulously controlled breaths. You gently laid it down in front of you and opened it, lifting the lid like it would shatter if you went too fast. You hadn’t opened it in years, not since you closed it at the hospital on that horrible day. A droplet landed on the smooth mahogany, one that came from your eyes. It took you a while before you wiped it away, unsure if you were strong enough to touch the instrument without breaking down before it.

‘Pull yourself together, Y/N, it’s been ten years’ you thought. And despite telling yourself that you had mostly moved past your father’s death, trying to see the light from it instead of the darkness, you still had moments where you were majorly overcome with grief. But you knew you could do this. You had to. He would have wanted you to.

So you picked it up. You examined it, not that there would be any new marks or scratches with it being shut off from the world for a decade, and then laid it on your knee like a baby, your hands assuming the positions that were like second nature to you, like another language. And you strummed the strings. They were horribly out of tune, so you let out a sodden laugh at the sound before tuning it to perfection.

Now all you had to do was play. You had time before Jay got home, so that wasn’t stopping you. What was is the thought of playing the guitar your dad bought you, the guitar your dad taught you to play, the guitar that you played to him and with him as you sang together. You knew he wouldn’t want you to stop playing, but you couldn’t bear the thought of playing it without him there to listen.

So you closed your eyes and imagined he was there with you, listening and smiling, as your fingers found the first chord on the neck of the guitar and you played it. Then the next. And the next. And you were doing it. You were playing the song. Now all you had to do was sing. You saw your dad’s smile and you knew you could do it.

“If I ever were to lose you,

I’d surely lose myself.”

Then suddenly there was a loud smash of glass on the floor behind you and you jumped, spinning around violently to see Jay stood in the doorway over some shattered glass.

“What the hell, Jay?! You scared the shit outta me.” You shouted, a hand over your racing heart.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just wanted to hear you sing.” He smiled sympathetically, walking a little further in to lean against the chest of drawers in the corner.

“Shut your mouth. Like hell you did. You just wanted something to make fun of me for.” You huffed, frowning, as you moved to put away your guitar. You could feel the unjustifiable anger bubbling deep inside you at him hearing you, allowing yourself to be so careless as to let him in the first place.

“What? No, of course not. It was really beautiful, and I’ve never really heard you sing before.” He said cautiously as he came to sit beside you on the couch, taking a hold of your hands to stop you putting away the guitar. He could tell you were annoyed, and though he wasn’t sure why, he knew to tread carefully, as he seemingly had hit a nerve.

“Yeah, well, I don’t do it around other people, at least not since I was younger.” You said softly, feeling guilty for shouting at him.

“With your dad?” He asked. He knew all about the story with your father, minus the part where you sang to him before he died. You couldn’t bring yourself to relive that if you didn’t have to. But now you did have to. You couldn’t let Jay be in the dark about it any longer. All he had ever been was supporting and caring to you, and you felt ready to let him in fully.

“Yeah.” You whispered, not trusting your voice. You shuffled in closer to him, and he let go of your left hand to wrap his arm around you, and then you took a deep breath. “I, erm, haven’t played my guitar since the day my dad died. He asked me to play it to him whilst he was in hospital, because he couldn’t do it himself like before he got sick. And on his last day, I played him that song you just heard; it was one of his favourites. Not that he was conscious. He’d been knocked out cold with meds for days by then. After, we said goodbye and took him off life support. And I could never bring myself to play my guitar since.”

Silence followed, allowing him to process and you to recover. He kept rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, showing you support without using his words.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “But wouldn’t he want you to keep playing? For him?”

“He would, that’s why I’m trying now.” You pulled away slightly and smiled at him. “He’d have liked you, y’know? He really would.”

“I’m sure the feeling would be mutual.” He returned your smile.

Every day he reminded you of the wonderful man he is; caring, funny, kind, smart. But he also showed you he loved you, that he trusted you. And so you did the same.

You sat up, retrieving your guitar and laying it on your lap once more. You glanced over to him and smiled.

“This was also one of his favourites.” You told him, and then you started to play.

 “Talking away,

I don’t know what,

I’m to say I’ll say it anyway,

Todays another day to find you.

Shying away,

I’ll be coming for your love okay.

 Take on me,

Take me on.

I’ll be gone,

In a day or two.

 Needless to say,

I'm odds and ends,

But I'll be stumbling away,

Slowly learning that life is okay.

Say after me,

It's no better to be safe than sorry.

 Take on me,

Take me on,

I'll be gone,

In a day or two,

In a day or two.”

 When you finished, you sighed deeply, a half-sad, half-loving smile spreading across your face as you turned towards Jay. He was sat in an awestruck daze, smiling back at you as you put your guitar away in the case. When you sat back up, he shifted closer to you, gently taking your cheek in his palm as he gazed into your eyes, running his thumb softly over your cheek.

“I think I love you.” He murmurs.

You scoff jokingly and roll your eyes teasingly. “Well, you better bloody love me, Halstead. We’ve moved in together.”

He chuckles, and you can feel his warm breath brush over your cheek.

“I do. I love you. And I’ll keep saying it, even when you’re sick of hearing it.”

“I’ll never get sick of hearing it, Jay, because I love you too.” You whispered, smirking as you leaned in to kiss him. He met your lips with his, kissing you lovingly, assuring that you knew you were it for him, as he was it for you.