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oitommothetease · 3 years

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Invisible String (4/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Word Count: 2.6k words

Warning: 18+ (discussion of assault, nervous breakdown, anxiety attack, just don’t read this whole series if you are a kid)

You woke up to a night of dreamless sleep like you always did, but then the events of the previous night hit you. You wished it was a dream, but one look in the mirror and a bruise running along your cheek was enough to confirm. Not only that, but you remembered asking your boss to stay over, but you didn't expect him to. The blanket on your living room’s couch and the bowl of fruits and a glass of juice situated out for you on the kitchen counter proved that he did stay.

And then the reality sunk in, you have a decision to make. You can either go to the cops or let that guy get away. The latter sounded not so great, but you knew going to the cops isn't going to be great either. You've seen enough detective shows to know that. You've had enough, and you just wanted to forget it.

What did Mr. Barnes mean when he said you were going to talk about this? Are you supposed to visit him before work? Is he going to come to your place?

You decided to work on your book but ended up not being able to concentrate, so you started watching a show and fell asleep while watching it. Maybe some Chinese take-out could make you feel better. It didn't. Nothing made you feel better. You wished you had some friends in this new town because you didn't want to burden your work friends.

After a horrible day of trying to cope, when you finally made your way to the club, you noticed the security was increased. Usually, security guards weren't present inside the club, but today it was different. Everyone was so vigilant and you felt a little safer. If you didn't know any better, you'd think Mr. Barnes did it for you, but again he would have done the same thing for any other employee.

"Boss wants to see you," Pietro told you. You were about to head for Clint's office when the blond twin spoke again and pointed his finger towards the stairs." The boss."

Okay, well maybe playing naïve couldn't avoid this meeting, so you slowly walked upstairs. How bad could this go, it's not like he saw you in your most vulnerable state? Oh, wait, he did.

You knocked on his office door, wanting to rip the band-aid and get over with it.

"Hey," you said, faking a smile. "Thanks for getting me home last night and for breakfast today. I didn't even know I had fruits and juice at home because let's be honest, I'm a toast and coffee kinda gal."

Mr. Barnes didn't say anything, he just looked at you as if you were a confusing puzzle that he couldn't solve. He raised a hand towards the seat in front of him and you took it, nervously fiddling with your fingers under the table.

“You do that a lot, you know?” he asked, it wasn't a question, it was merely an observation.

“What?”

“Deflecting a serious issue by using a joke.” Mr. Barnes observed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What are you? My therapist?”

He arched an eyebrow, indicating that you were literally doing the thing he pointed out.

"Yeah, well, it's called having a healthy coping mechanism. You should try getting one, brooding is only gonna help you this far."

"It's not healthy if you're not dealing with it," Mr. Barnes pointed out.

You scoffed in incredulity and you felt very, very attacked.

What is it? Attacking y/n day?, you thought.

"Anyway, I think I want to press charges," You changed the subject to a more serious conversation to avoid him calling you out on your bullshit.

"Okay, I understand.”

“You do?” You asked, bewilderment clearly written all over your face. “I mean, letting an employee go to the cops is not gonna be great for your club's reputation and yours too. And, you know, considering the shady business, you do-”

"What exactly do you think we do?" He asked.

And that's when it hit you, you didn't know what he did or mob bosses do in general. All your knowledge about it came from movies and Wattpad, both of them are not a great place to gain knowledge.

“What exactly do you do?” you pondered.

He obviously wasn't expecting you to directly ask him, nobody has directly asked him or even made it known that they are aware of his work. It was kind of like a silent pact that everybody signed for, everybody except you, apparently.

“Um, you know, I've been working for almost 2 weeks here now, and I haven't seen any drugs around here, so it's obviously not drugs. You don't look like the sex trafficking types-”

"Jesus, woman!" He exclaimed, offended by your assumptions.

"Then just tell me what you do."

You expected him to tell you something, but he just kept looking at you with a face void of emotions.

"Fine, don't tell me," you mumbled, raising your hands dramatically in defeat.

“So you don't mind me ruining your reputation by going to the cops?”

“I told you I don't care. Your safety is my utmost priority,” your face might have given away the surprise you felt because he quickly backpedaled. ”I mean, the safety of my employees.”

“The safety of my employees is my utmost priority,” he told you, providing an extra emphasis on the word employees. “Anyway, one of my people would take you to the police station near-"

You cut him off immediately.

"No, you can't tell anyone else. I don't want everyone hopping on the pity train. I'm already ashamed that you know about it," you pleaded but your voice was firm, telling him that this was not up for a discussion.

At this, his eyes and features softened. Bucky didn't want you to feel guilty or ashamed for somebody else's actions, but clearly, you did.

"Okay, then I can take you. You just had to explain to the officer last night’s events, and they'll ask you to recognize Rumlow and then we can-"

Mr. Barnes’s voice faded into the background when it finally hit you.

"You know what, I changed my mind. It's too much. I don't want to press charges anymore. I didn't think this through," you backtracked. You did think this through, but now all the factors were adding up in your brain. You'd have to explain the details to a cop who is probably going to be another man and a stranger, and then they'd ask you to identify the guy. You didn't think you had it in you to face him. At least not now.

He interpreted your thought process and promptly changed the topic. "Okay, we can work with whatever you want, and at least let Peter escort you home after work."

"What? No!” You quickly declined.

“It's for your own safety,” Bucky tried to reason. He wasn't letting you get off this easily.

“I'm a strong, independent woman and I'm not scared of anything.”

That was a lie. You were scared of many things like heights, dark, spiders, confrontation and the list goes on and on.

You remembered all the lectures your mom gave you telling you that women should be scared because men are monsters, and you'd lose your honor if you are reckless and some other patriarchal crap that you didn't pay attention to. But you weren't scared, you were just always careful. You'd always put the keys between your knuckles when you went home alone. In your previous job, you used to laugh it off whenever your coworkers made a sexist joke. You'd ignore the subtle shoulder touch that your previous boss did. You told yourself that this is what it takes to make it. If you were to run away every time someone eyed you in a wrong way, then you'd spend your whole life running.

Women usually shrug this behavior off as it is what is, but the truth is it shouldn't be like this.

“Please, I insist.”

“I'm very capable of taking care of myself. Just because one bad incident happened doesn't mean I'll fucking break!” You stated, your voice louder than your regular voice to get across your point.

That was also a lie. You were walking on a thin line and you were ignoring your emotions. You were one outburst away from a breakdown, and you just couldn't bring yourself to feel anything.

Mr. Barnes tried to call your name, but you were already bolting out of his office.

You needed a drink. No, fuck that. You needed multiple drinks. It wasn't exactly wise to get drunk during work, but it couldn't get any shittier than this, right?, you thought.

Right?

Wrong. It could get way shittier than this. Now it was almost midnight, you were kind of tipsy, and you could see two Mr. Stark, your regular customer, in front of you.

Did he have a twin? Is he and his twin brother one of those identical twins that dress up the same? Because that's what it looked like.

“Earth to y/n," Mr. Stark said, or was it his twin? It was getting hard to keep track anymore.

And that's when you noticed.

“Holy, Shit. You're triplets, Mr. Stark," you announced.

"Okay, kid, close my tab.”

“Hey, y/n. Are you okay?” Peter asked, noticing the concerned look Mr. Stark gave him before leaving.

“Yes, I'm fine. Absolutely fine.”

***

Turns out you were not fine. You've been pretty much hammered for the past week, and you could barely get a sentence out without giggling or slurring. Your colleagues took notice of your state and whenever someone pointed it out, you'd just shrug it off as a bad day or a bad week. There was no concept of time in your drunk state.

You couldn't concentrate on your book, you could barely look at someone without squinting, and you've been eating takeout and leftovers for the past few days.

James would have fired if someone working under him was this irresponsible, but he knew your reasons. He knew you clearly weren't coping with the trauma well. Your work ethics were shoved down the trash that even Clint asked why you weren't fired yet.

Bucky didn't want to talk to you, he thought that maybe giving you some space would do you good, but clearly it wasn't working. Usually, the mob boss didn't interfere in the affairs of his employees, it was Clint's job, but when you smashed a bottle on the head of a customer, he had to interject.

“I TOLD THIS FUCKER NO!” you yelled, Peter’s hand around your middle from behind. Another empty beer bottle was in your hand, ready to be smashed across the face of the drunk dude in front of you.

Pietro and Wanda were enjoying the show. Peter, being the peace lover he is, held you back when you smashed a bottle across a drunk customer's face. Even though Peter was younger than you, he was stronger, and he was not only holding you back but also himself. He didn't want to cause a scene and that is why he was mulling comforting words in your ear like, he's not worth it, you're gonna kill this guy.

Damn right I am, you thought.

It was ironic because everyone in that club had killed someone except you.

When Bucky walked into the room, the drunk guy turned towards him and pointed at you. ”You are hiring crazy bitches now? Just called her baby girl and she went psycho!!!”

Bucky didn't understand what was happening. He told the security guards to take that man outside his club and he walked towards you. He firmly yet gently took a hold of your left arm, signaling Peter to let go of you. Without a word, he started walking in the direction of his office, dragging you along with him.

Once near his office, he lightly yanked your hand and shoved you inside, making you stand in front of him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he inquired, having had enough of your incompetence.

You were seething with rage. "Wrong with me? I told him no, but he didn't listen."

Bucky stepped forward, his anger dissipating into sympathy. " I know, he mumbled, "and I'm so-"

"No, you don't know!" you yelled, body trembling and tears welling up in your eyes. "I told him no multiple times, I even tried to push him off me, but he just kept coming back."

Bucky's eyes furrowed in confusion. He didn't understand your words, the drunk customer didn't touch you. And that's when he realized, you weren't talking about the drunk customer. He cognized that the drunk guy purely triggered something that you've been suppressing for days now. Bucky was aware that you needed to get it out of your system to cope healthily.

“I told him no, you know? But he just wouldn't listen,” you stated, trying to convince yourself that you didn't lead him on. ”And he was so…. so strong and… and then he hit me and everything just went blur, I couldn't see but... but I could still feel him with me.”

Not realizing that you were not in that place anymore, you wrapped your hand around yourself to seek some sort of protection and comfort, bottom lip quivering, the welled up traitorous tears were streaming down your face and all you could think about was that night.

“I… I can't get his touch out,” you stammered. ” I shower, multiple times a day, but I still can't get his touch out.”

With that, you broke down completely and shattered on the floor, sobbing ferociously. Your knees ached because of the position you were situated in, but the emotional pain was enough to overshadow the physical one.

For once in his lifetime, Bucky did not know what to do. Cautiously, he made his way towards you and knelt down in front of you. He did not know what to say or do to make you feel better.

You launched your body towards him, snaking your arms around his shoulder to settle on his neck as if he was the only thing grounding you. You lurched onto him like he was your anchor, and maybe he was. It took a minute for Bucky to register your actions, and when he did, he wrapped his arms around your middle and closed the minuscule distance separating you.

He surprised himself with the way one of his hands automatically reached for your hair and whispered words of comfort in your ear. He caught you as you crumpled physically and emotionally.

”You're going to be okay, doll,” he whispered and kissed your temple with sincerity. ”I will make sure of that.”

The second part was barely audible, it wasn't meant for you, it was a promise he made to himself.

Bucky held you tightly yet gently while you sobbed on his shoulder.

He didn't know how long he held you, it felt like an eternity to him with the way he could feel the guilt and rage inside him. When you passed out in his arms, he gently placed you on one of the comfortable couches in his office and draped a blanket around you that he had for when he would work late at night.

An office chair might not be the most ideal place to spend the night in, but it didn't matter to Bucky. All that mattered was you.

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ldouble · 3 years

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Can’t Help It | Antonio Dawson x Reader (Chicago PD)

summary: You never expected flowers to be delivered to you. You weren’t one for girlish things, for goodness sake you were a cop who liked strapping a gun more so than clicking into heels. With this, it’s a pleasant surprise when you are delivered flowers not once, not twice, but three times in the span of a week. For Antonio, your partner and the guy who definitely did not have feelings for you, its more suspicious.

You stare at empty board, the lack of thumbtacked pictures a rare sight. This was the Intelligence Unit. There was always a case. Sometimes you thought the crimes rolled in like such clockwork you could have a TV show.

Wednesday. 9 PM Central.

With the clear board, you were sure to get cancelled.

You didn’t want anything up there. The first piece of evidence or any sort of lead usually meant someone was dead. You didn’t wish that at all.

The sight just made you uneasy.

Work wasn’t supposed to be mundane. You were supposed to be constantly thinking. Gears shifting as you tried to catch up with whatever or whoever you were after.

Drug cartels. Sex trafficking. Gang related violence.

It made its way to this board. And you sure as hell always found your way back to it.

The sound of a phone brought you back. The rough voice of your partner cueing in that your team was up to bat.

You looked to Antonio, your arms crossed, half your mind still on the blank panel, for answers.

Even fewer leads sat with him, his face stone cold and unreadable. That was weird. After working together for years, literally saving each others lives (after nearly losing each other one or twice) you could always read Dawson. His quiet demeanor was easy for you to pick up on, you yourself one to speak without words. You thought the time spent wordlessly communicating - either over beers at Molly’s or the barrel of your gun prior to a riot - would help you figure out who was on the other end of the phone.

His eyes met yours, a low ‘mhm’ escaping his lips before he let the receiver clack gently against its holder. “Delivery for you.”

“Screw up your address-”

Ruzek called after you, your last names barely heard as you skipped down the steps to meet whoever was at the cage entrance.

“Didn’t order anything.” You called before lowering your voice. “Especially nothing I’d get sent here.”

Your mind wandered to the Wine of the Month club you just subscribed to, and for a second you started believing Adam that you really had fumbled the address. But upon opening the cage door to see a patrolmen standing with your package, you knew you definitely didn’t mess up.

You told the officer just that, laughing at the sick joke it was. Sergeant Platt was having none of it, yelling up at you (without so much as lifting her gaze from her desk), “Take the goddamn flowers.”

So you did. You awkwardly and begrudgingly, took the goddamn flowers.

The goddamn flowers that had you sneezing upon arriving back in the bullpen.

A low whistle from Kevin was heard despite the allergy response. You didn’t know which one had caught the attention of the entire squad. Honestly, you didn’t know which was worse.

“Nobody give me that look.” You spat, concluding it was neither whistle nor wheeze that had everyone curious. Rather it was you, dressed in dark jeans and an ever darker long sleeved shirt, holding a budding bouquet of bright yellow-

“Are those sunflowers?” Jay asked, leaning closer to take a look.

“Yes.” You huffed, setting down the gift like it was a bomb. That’s what it felt like. Like any second something was going to go off. 3....2...

“Who got you flowers?!?” Adam buzzed, jumping up to peer at the present.

“No one.” You quickly said, hating this. Hating the attention. The attention brought on by some stupid-

“Nice greenery.” Voight said from his classic perch of leaning against the door of his office.

At the sight of your boss you gulped. You were chummy enough with him but knew even he wouldn’t appreciate a dispute over something as stupid as this.

So you took a breath, smiled, and agreed with him. “Yeah, nice.” You peered at the object in question...just like you would a suspect.

Jay called you out on it, coming to look at it beside you. He hip checked you. “Whose it from?”

“Great question.”

“There’s usually a card someone.”

You looked over your shoulder at Antonio whose attention now seemed completely enthralled with his computer. You knew for a fact there was nothing on there of importance. if there was, he wouldn’t be asking about flowers. Flowers you never would have gotten because you wouldn’t be here but rather out on the case that filled that goddamn blank board.

“You a frequent customer of ‘Ode a la Rose’, Dawson?” Ruzek asked, coming up on the other side to look at the business ribbon tied to the vase.

“No.” You titled your head at your partner who quickly avoided eye contact after looking up for a mere second. He clicked away, his mouse suddenly much louder to you. “But I know a bouqet of flowers when I see one.”

That had you rolling your eyes back to the problem at hand.

You really didn’t know where to start, that is until Voight walked right up and plucked the paper envelope from between the....blooms? Was that they were called?

Reading your mind Jay and Ruzek leaned in at the same time, whispering, “Buds.” in your ears.

You sighed, watching them return to their desks before opening up the letter.

You don’t know why you needed a breath but you did. It was all so bizarre. Remembering your boss’ words, the very ones you had agreed with, you concluded it to be nice. Nothing less and nothing more.

The card certified that, its blankness leaving the mystery solved.

“What’s it say?” Kevin asked from across the aisle as you sat down in your chair.

“Nada.” You replied, tossing into the bin at your feet.

“Yeah, right.” Antonio said, standing up and crossing the room. When he went to dive through the can beneath your desk you rolled away, the invasion of space surprising.

What was more surprising, the look of jealousy you swore you saw on his face.

Again, your guess was confirmed when Jay asked if Antonio was jealous somebody else was congratulating me on a case well solved before he could.

You didn’t like what Jay said but it was better than clutching onto a defensive statement with no proof. You were a detective. Couldn’t argue with evidence. And Antonio storming over to dig through trash...pretty convincing.

“I told you, I’ll take a free beer over flowers any day.” Your hand graced your partners arm. It stole his attention from the empty paper he was analyzing, his eyes finding yours for a moment. The way they raced across your face, taking you in like someone he was saving, crushed you.

More than that, it terrified you. Because it seemed to terrify Antonio.

You sneakily took the note from his hand, shaking your head with a light laugh. You were hoping he didn’t notice how forced it was because you really couldn’t sit here one more second with him looking at you like that. Worrying you. Terrifying you.

“It’s all good. Probably just some appreciation for your girl.”

You had stood at this point, reaching around to dump the flowers but your hand was caught. Antonio met your gaze, his tongue quickly wetting his lips in thought. A million things went through his head before he plucked the note from you.

“Keep em. Till I get you that beer.”

You watched him walk away, your eyes tearing away when you heard Adam cracking another joke about how sunflowers resembled your bubbly personality. When you slapped his head in warning you chanced another glance at your partner.

Sauntering down the hall a flash of white caught your eyes.

The once pristine note, white as day, was now crumbled in his hand. You watched it soar into a nearby trashcan, hitting the rim and bouncing onto the floor. The slam of the cage, announcing the exit of your partner, couldn’t even take your eyes away.

----

Molly’s atmosphere would always put you in a good mood. There was nothing like sitting with your colleagues, amongst the other servicemen and women of Chicago, after a long day.

You hadn’t even made it to the bar when Otis called your name, waving you over.

Leaving Ruzek and Kevin to chat it up with some of the Firehouse 51 guys, you made your way through the throngs of people.

“What’s up?” You asked over the cheers of a home run being hit.

“You tell me.” The fireman said, a suggestive tone on his lips.

You turned to your coworkers, now joining you, shrugging your shoulders. Their equally confusing looks send you repeating the action back at him. Even then, its hard to force up your arms in chagrin when theres an icy feeling down your back.

The Russian fireman rolled his eyes before disappearing below the bar. Your head tipped forward to follow only to bounce back at his sudden reappearance. Its not his dark curly hair that scares you, but rahter the bright array of...flowers.

He placed it on the counter with a thud. Identical in nearly every way to the vase gifted to you two days ago, the only difference is that the blossoms have grown. Double the amount of stems sit in the square jar.

The aroma of spring met your nose despite the smells of the bar. Mixed with beer and greasy food, your lunch is prepared to make a reappearance.

But its the sight of Antonio, followed closely by Jay, that sends the meal back down. You have to gulp it down again when he gets closer, the look of anger directed towards the flowers, terrifying you once again.

“You got to be kidding.” Jay mumbled, tracing over the business seal.

“When did you get these?”

“Who delivered them?”

“What’d they say?”

The men around you fire out questions but none of them register. You’re always one to investigate but never before had you been so involved. Never before had you been the lead.

You liked the board empty. You’d take a clear slate and nothing to do over thumbtacking your own picture up any day.

Especially today.

Antonio tried to find your eyes, silently communicate among the raising volume of the bar, but you ignored them. There’s something to be said. But you don’t have the words.

The message envelope does.

You ripped through the flowers, tossing stems and wrecking the beauty of the gift, until you find what you’re looking for.

A gasp escaped your lips once you’ve read it, your head following to hang low.

“What’s it say?” Someone asked. You didn’t catch who, the neatly typed and printed words consuming everything in you.

Someone grabbed it but you release the words into the air before they can be read again.

If you could’ve stopped them you would. No one else should have had to read those chilling words. No one except you.

And your detective friends.

“I scent you this.” You looked up at Antonio, his brows furrowed as they came up from the note. “Can’t wait to watch you wilt.”

“We’ve got a gardener on our hands.”

Your head slowly turned to Otis, innocent and unknowing Otis, who thought it all to be a cute little love note.

You told him it wasn’t.

“More like a weed killer.” A faux smile found your lips right before your eyes found the door, your feet following quickly.

The hot summer air was less of an escape than you’d have hoped. Still, you pushed on, farther from the bar and the noise and the people and everything.

Your arm was caught just before a passing car took you out, sucking you back into the real world.

Antonio’s eyes, the fullest of concern you’d ever seen them, sent you pushing him back. You’d take reality but not from him. Not right now.

“You can’t just leave.”

“Let my pedals fall, won’t you, Dawson?”

“No.” His hands found my arms, my bare skin burning. There was no anger in his action. If anything you were producing the heat, frustrated beyond belief.

Antonio saw it, squeezing gently to bring you back. You couldn’t the strain breath that you released.

“He’s in my head.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“Women don’t send flowers.” You deadpanned. You took a step back upon seeing the rest of your coworkers stirring a few feet away. They held a respectable distance but some things just needed to be said - partner to partner.

And boy were some things about to be said.

Cops had no on and off switch. Their minds were always in investigation mode. You were your lead, your evidence, your victim, your everything.

And you felt like you couldn’t even breathe at the moment.

“Just let me go home.”

“Not with some guy-”

“He’s in my head, man.” The crack in your voice scared you but you pressed down the fear, going straight up to your partner. Chest to chest you tapped a finger on his temple. “He’s in my head and I can’t help it.”

“You’re in his and I can’t help that.” Antonio huffed.

You didn’t know who was more upset with the situation - you or him.

But that’s what partners were for. To have your back. Even when you didn’t have your own.

The thought of Antonio guarding you, unattended and unfocused, had you shaking your head.

It wasn’t right. None of this was.

You told him just that. To which he tried whispering your last name not as your partner but as your friend. You could tell by the way he said your first name...something he never did.

Desperate times, desperate measures.

“Save your detective work for the office.” A choked laugh escaped you as you slipped by him, heading towards Kevin. “Something tells me this is just poor planning on some gardener’s part.”

The flower puns had been over ages ago. They never really had a place at all.

But again....desperate times, desperate measures. Dark humor was your desperation.

You plucked the flowers from Adam’s arms, meeting his eyes with a nod.

You heard Jay say your name but it was no use. If Antonio couldn’t get through to you, it’d take Voight. And your boss never frequented this establishment at this hour.

Like you would hear him over the buzzing. You wanted to believe a bee was enjoying your unexpected gift but you knew that wasn’t true. The only thing ringing was your heart, beating faster than ever before.

You turned on your heel, only dropping your “I’ve Got It All Together” smile when you threatened them not to follow you. It wasn’t until you got home did it all fall apart, the vase crashing to the ground. The only reason you didn’t hear it was because of Antonio’s voice in your head.

“I can’t help that.”

He meant it like he couldn’t help but worry.

But combined with the concern he radiated, you thought your suspicions to be true.

He couldn’t help. No one could.

----

Your hand hurt from clutching your gun in your sleep.

At the thought of how pathetic that was, you flexed your fingers before shaking them out to study the card.

The wording, the gift, everything, really nothing, made sense.

You had racked your brain for cases that it could connect to. It wasn’t uncommon to be tracked down by former...clients.

Your job was to put people in jail. Jail wasn’t always a life long sentence. Finding you, the person who’d put them there, could possibly be a life long commitment.

The knock of your door made you freeze. You weren’t able to pinpoint a crime that could lead to threats in the form of flowers but you were able to recognize that knock anywhere.

A confirmation through the peephole had you standing with your hand on your hip as Antonio walked into your apartment.

He rambled on and on, jumping between the points of the mysterious flower deliveries and how there was no way you were going to let him stop from figuring this out. On a tangent about your lack of respect to the Senior Detective of the unit (a title he only used when he wanted authority) you wrapped your arms around him.

Suddenly your outburst against the second in command didn’t matter, his own arms looping around your lower back.

“You look like shit for having slept in your car outside my place.”

His chuckle vibrated through you - the sound the most pleasant thing you had heard since entering Molly’s over 12 hours ago. Since then it had been your partner yelling at you and the eery silence of your apartment.

Neither were a match for Antonio’s laugh.

Which, speaking of, quickly died out as he gave you a once over. You could hear the quip on the tip of his tongue, how the bags under your eyes made him think you spent the night in the passenger seat, but it never came.

All that stayed was the worry in his eyes. You wiped your hands over them, forcing them closed. “Don’t look at me like that.” You whispered.

Without moving he replied, “When this is fixed, I’ll stop.”

“Then keep them closed.” You headed toward the couch, heaving a sigh and setting your head on the wall. “I can’t figure it out.”

“What do you think I’m here for?” You felt the couch dip beside you, the weight shifting as Antonio looked over the files sprawled on your coffee table. After a moment you joined him, your eyes quickly glazing over at the papers you’d practically memorized.

“Had he sent some blood or common drug I would’ve pinned him.” You waved a hand over the evidence. “I’ve got nothing.”

“You have to, or else you wouldn’t know who he was.”

“Antonio, I don’t-”

“You do.” He interrupted, a hand finding your knee. He’s quick to remove it, clearing his throat and referencing the table again. “We’re cops. We know more than we think.”

You sighed, wanting to agree but not seeing enough evidence to do so.

Flowers. Scents. Spring.

You were linking the whole ordeal to cotton candy (somehow) when someone else knocked on the door. You didn’t even bother standing, knowing Antonio (who had been on watch all night) wouldn’t let you answer it.

So you weren’t surprised at all when he returned, the rest of the squad entering.

“Still picking petals?” Kevin asked.

“He kills you, he kills you not.”

Adam’s joke impressed no one, his hands flying up defensively. “We not in the mood for jokes or what?”

“We’re not.” Voight’s voice run out strong. It both reassured you and frightened you. This all was so odd. How everyone was here. Except the guy tracking you down.

“No jokes when one of our own is on the line.”

“Line.” You mumbled, the word sticking with you.

“What is it?” Jay asked, crouching down in front of you. It was his classic, “witness remembers something” action, which you didn’t appreciate. There was no time to blow him off, tell him you weren’t a victim in this, because you were just getting somewhere.

Antonio caught on, shoving Jay away for you.

You didn’t even need to say thanks, silently communicating it without as so much as a look.

“What did you say Adam?” You stood, heading towards your bookcase.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to repeat-”

“Say it again.” You insisted turning from the shelf for a mere moment to give him a look. “Please.” You said, your tone lighter.

“He kills you, he kills you not?” He mused, avoiding eye contact with Voight.

“That’s a bad line, man.” You heard Kevin say under his breathe.

“Exactly.” You excited, grabbing the book you were looking for.

“Exactly what?” Antonio came up beside you, his eeys darting between the page and your face. You said nothing - out loud or silently - which he impatiently couldn’t wait for. “Exactly what?”

“Exactly this.” You pointed to the page. “He loves me, he loves me not.”

Confusion and what appeared to be fear raced across Antonio’s face. Jay asked if you could fill him in before you got a chance to question your partner’s response to your revelation.

“It’s a line.”

“We know.” Voight said.

“A line from a case.” You went on to say, heading back toward the table. “There was a guy at the University of Chicago, posed as an English major, sucked girls with the whole ‘I’ll read you poetry’ thing.”

Papers were flying everywhere and Kevin was trying to keep them in order, that is till Antonio started digging with you.

“I know this one. He brought girls in and then,”

“Raped and murdered them. Leaving nothing but a note that said,”

“He loves me, he loves me NOT,” Voight answered, remembered. the case he handed over to you and Antonio.

“He definitely did not.” You stood, file in hand. “He left that line and-”

“A flower.”

You looked up to Antonio, his gaze pointed at the pile of what was your second bouquet, sitting in the dustpan where you left it when you couldn’t bring yourself to throw it out.

His eyes found yours after a moment and you couldn’t help but smile. You had solved it.

Of course, you had solved it three years ago.

Jay reminded you of that point when he took a look at the report.

“The clues he’s leaving aren’t keeping him too well hidden. Why send the cop who put you away flowers?” Kevin spectated.

“Paid in cash.” Adam added, rubbing his chin in thought. “Might want a chase.”

“Who leaves a calling card like that and wants a chase?” Voight pondered.

“He’s not the one being chased.” You said, the room quieting from the many guesses being vocalized. “I am.”

The knock of the door piqued everyone’s interest, each head whipping towards it. Then you all looked at each other. No one else who needed to be here wasn’t.

Antonio connected those dots first, undoing his gun from its holster and walking towards the door.

It was no point for him to ask who was there. You already knew.

You just made it to see the delivery boy, eyes wide as Antonio pointed the barrel at him.

You took the smallest of steps forward, further intimating the boy and causing the vase to drop. Triple the size of the first one, flowers spewed everywhere, a white card sliding across the floor to your feet.

You bent down, opened it and read it silently. When you looked back up at Antonio you couldn’t help the words that escaped.

“He’s not asking to be found. He’s already picked me out from the bunch.”

----

I wanna smell you. Just you. You don’t bloom, you lose it all.

The last part of the note didn’t need to be repeated in your head. Not when you were there right at that moment.

Lurie Garden looked beautiful on the Spring Saturday. Lavender wafted through the air and all colors spread through the field. The Bean was barely visible over the high walls. If you stood in the penny fountain you wouldn’t have been able to see 20 feet into the greenery. Not with the spurts of bushes that traveled higher and higher the further into the season.

3 Pm was peak time. Little kids ran around, parents following quickly. You had spotted more than one older couple, walking through the fields to literally smell the roses.

Like on every other OP, you thought of if you’d get there. Make it through this.

Good cops were good people. And no good person walked into a dangerous situation without playing with the idea that they wouldn’t see the light of the next day.

Your eyes found the sun, beating down on you. When you couldn’t take it any longer your refocused, finding the very couple that sparked your philosophical train fo thought. A green ring formed around them from the light exposure. They looked angelic. Happy. Perfect.

“Everything looks perfect.”

You toed the gravel, Ruzek’s voice loud and clear in your ear piece. No one had said much the last 15 minutes you spent waiting for your guest.

Mark Cameron, ever the ‘fake’ student, was running late for class.

Only you would be penalized, though, if you slipped up.

The kid, no college graduate, was still smart. When you’d busted him he had a barely alive girl in his arms. When unarming you he called out every weapon.

Hence your lack of protection right now.

No gun. No knife. You didn’t even have the pin you wore for highly specialized ops, its edge sharper than any pocketknife you could’ve snuck into your pant leg.

“You’re going to be fine.”

You turned halfway before stopping yourself. Antonio’s voice hadn’t come form your ear piece but rather behind you. Posing as a fellow garden goer, he stood the other way, admiring the monkshood you just looked at (15 minutes had given you plenty of time to read up on the plants. That and you needed something to do other than wait).

He was effortless when it came to undercover ops. So it took everything in you not to tell him he was blowing it. Cameron could show up any second. Antonio knew this. Never one to break protocol it wasn’t right to see him doing just that.

“Let’s hope.” You breathed, bending down to smell.

“He’s not in your head. I can’t help you if you’re in yours.”

You didn’t respond - not knowing what to say as well as gettin interrupted by COMMS.

“Cameron just entered the North East corner.”

Kevin went on giving description - jean jacket, information packet in hand, etc. - but you didn’t care.

You remembered that sweet couple without a care in the world and you needed to see Antonio once more. You needed to believe him he’d help. You needed your partner.

“Thought you might need this, honey.”

Cameron’s voice was icy in your ear. You fought the urge to grimace, instead smiling up at him and accepting the garden sheet he was extending to you.

“Thanks. Was dying to know what smelled so bad.”

“So you say.” He whispered directly into your ear piece. “What do they think?”

Jay mumbling something foulw as cut off as Cameron picked apart the tech. You couldn’t help but slam your ear into your shoulder, his touch radiating goosebumps off of you. The exposed movement was worth it when you caught no sight of Antonio - who had thankfully cleared the area.

There was no one in your row. No one you could really see either with the sloped ground and the high stalks of greenery.

You hoped your team had you. You knew they did. It was just hard to believe when you didn’t have yourself.

Cameron had found you. Found a way into your work and your bar and your home. More than that, he found his way into your head. And Antonio would never admit it but Cameron got into his too.

Partners. Had each other’s backs but also had each others brains.

You hoped Antonio’s wasn’t as corrupted as your felt right now.

“I told you to come alone.”

The stomp of his foot on the ear piece emitted a high pitched frequency just loud enough for you to catch.

Your lips formed a straight line as you told yourself not to panic. Something about you being the target made this op different. You cared about victims more than you did yourself - evident in the way you put your life on the line.

But this...this focus on you, on your friends, made breaking up a drug cartel seem like heaven.

Being here, with Cameron, even in a beautiful field of flowers, was actual hell.

“You know, I’d make some cruel joke about no flower growing alone but I don’t think you’d appreciate that.”

Cameron pretended to weigh the options. Coming to a decision a sick smile grazed his face before his hand found your hip. It hurt, a pressure point being hit, but you didn’t let it show.

“Good choice. Makes you love you a bit more.”

His eyes wandered to the flower I was still gripping, its orange petals crumpling with the tense hold I had on it. His own hands found one near by, picked it and brought it up to my nose. His brows raised, asking me to pluck a petal. I did as told just as he said, “Or love you not.”

“Sir!”

You spun around to the voice, only having his hand grip into you harder at the sight of a park ranger approaching.

“You can’t pick the flowers, sir.”

“My fault!” Cameron chuckled, his neck settling on your shoulder. Again, he put more force than necessary, your collarbone taking the brunt of it. “My girlfriend here wanted to see if I still loved her not. You know the rhyme.”

The ranger gave a tight smile, clearly weary. She shook off the feeling, going back into work mode. “I’m going to have to write you a warning.”

“Ma’am-”

You attempt at reconciliation was lost as Cameron pressed his hand and neck harder into you - equal points of pain rolling through. He was all bone and it hurt like hell.

“That won’t be necessary,” He leaned forward, bringing you with him. “Jan.”

“Sir, it’s policy of the park not to-”

“It’s-”

This was going all sorts of wrong.

No ear piece. This ranger. A much more aggriavted Cameron than you wanted.

Maybe this was it. Your final chance to smell the roses.

“You need to leave, now.” Th ranger said, summoning the most authority she could in her voice. Cop or not you could see her wavering.

You could also see a crowd forming. Nothing interested tourists quite like a public conflict.

“I said, no.”

“Sir!”

The ranger stepped forward, clutching what you assumed was a baton.

Cameron, ever one to see something for more dangerous than it was, though it a gun, and was quick to pull his own out.

Where else could it go than up against your head.

He held a firm choke hold, tossing you around as you showed the neely joined audience exactly what you had. It was all it took for your team to come out, their own guns blazing.

Screams. People running. Dust picking up.

You wished for the smallest deliver of flowers. No mess. No note.

This was so much worse.

You stayed strong, though. You knew there was more coming.

“All so protective of your girl when a guy sends some roses, huh?” Cameron asked Kevin and Ruzek, whipping you around to talk to both of them.

“Put the gun down.”

“Let her go.”

Now you understood why no hostage felt safe in this moment. Guns pointed at you. Words their first line of defense.

This wasn’t help, you wanted to tell Antonio. This was a placeholder for help.

“Yeah, right.” Cameron snarled. His nose inhaled your scalp, posseviley claiming you. “She smells like mine.”

Threats were repeated. Voight and Al and Jay appeared. All who was missing was your partner.

And without your partner you weren’t you.

You closed your eyes, hating this. Hating this because it wasn’t right. Antonio should be here. Having your back. Helping.

So you did what any cop would do. You proved you were than just your partner or your team or your badge.

You opened your eyes, now facing the fountain just a few rows ahead. In it you barely saw your reflection. if the image of you being held wasn’t enough to spark something, the shadowy person just past you was.

In one swift moment you hit Cameron’s instep, freed your hand, twisted his shooting hand, which caused him to fire into the fields, and threw him over your back, made him hit the ground and had you pinning him down.

The next thing you knew there was a gun, another one, pointed mere inches from his face. You didn’t need to look up the leather jacket arm to know who it was. So you didn’t. Not until Kevin stood Cameron up and Ruzek handcuffed him.

That’s when you turned to Antonio. Fell into his arms. Breathed the scent of the flowers for the first time.

He whispered encouragement to you, assuring you were fine, saying how horrible that guy would suffer.

None of it mattered. All that mattered was him. You were ready to say that after you pulled back to look at him when his eyes found the ground. With you still firmly held in his arms he reached down, a cheap connivence store bouquet of flowers in his hands.

You couldn’t help the choked laugh that escape you

“Thought this might be better than the beer. Ya know, for catching the guy.”

You accepted the gift that had fallen out of Cameron’s grasp, tilting your head. “Yeah, but you helped.”

Antonio shrugged, forcing the flowers out of your hand as he brought you closer.

“I can’t help it.”

The End.

#antonio dawson #antonio dawson x reader #antonio dawson fanfiction #chicago pd #hank voight #jay halstead #kevin altwater #adam ruzek

146 notes · View notes

kiribaku-queen · 4 years

Text

Unexpected [2/8]

Pairing: Dabi x reader, Hawks x reader, Touya x reader

Fluff, angst, AU

Tigger Warning: Alcohol consumption, 18+ scene (if you don’t want to read smut then read up to the line 😊)

Word count: 5.7K

A/N: So much love on the first chapter already???? I really don’t deserve it. Sorry for the late update! I was trying to work on the last scene and wanted to make it so good for you guys. Don’t come for me if its mediocre. I’m still learning on how to write those kinds of scenes! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Summary: Being quirkless wasn’t so bad. Especially when you had two badass best friends that had amazing quriks to make up for it. That is until one of them breaks your heart by disappearing in thin air. And the other breaks your heart by wanting to focus on his hero work. After coming back to Japan after studying abroad for 5 years, you were in for a whirlwind of surprises.

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

You stared up at the man that saved you. Takami Keigo.

He had set you down safely, away from the fight, but didn’t glance at you a single time. Once he set you down, he was already rescuing another victim. He was fast. Flying to move others out of the way from falling debris. He even utilized his feathers to separate from his wings to do the same. Wow, where did he learn to do that? You were mesmerized by how swift and powerful he had become. But now wasn’t the time to daydream. You had to go to work. And now you were late.

Cursing in your head, you got up, dusted yourself off and continued on your way to work. But then you halted. You looked back at Keigo, watching him fight that villain. Maybe you should wait and thank him for saving you. He didn’t know he was saving you though. He didn’t look at you. He was just saving anyone he could at the moment. It would probably just be an awkward encounter anyway. You decided against it, but you couldn’t help but think about him, your heart racing just a bit.

You arrived at the school just in time. And that was all because you started running. You entered the teacher’s lounge where a meeting was about to begin. You sat down and greeted the other teachers around you before the principal of the school went to the front to start the meeting.

“Thank you all for being here so early. Let’s discuss today’s meeting. As you all know, it’s the first day of the term. Not very exciting but let’s still follow protocol.” The principal announced. Nods were seen coming from everyone, understanding that nothing new is happening. “But this year we are going to do something a little different. Every year, we have heroes come in to give speeches about their hero life and what students without quirks can contribute to hero society. This year, we are going to have that speech on the first day to give students more motivation to start the year off.” He explained. You nodded your head as well, fascinated that this is what they do in schools now. You jotted down some notes to save for later. The principal continued on with the meeting. Instructions seemed basic enough. Nothing too outrageous or out there. You were nervous for you first day for nothing.

“Before you all leave to your homeroom classes, let me introduce you to the heroes,” the principal gave the final announcement. All eyes turned to the door as a flood of heroes walked in and stood in the front besides the principal. A chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ filled the room upon seeing how strong and intimidating they were. You also ogled at the pro-heroes in front of you. You could tell it was going to be an interesting first day. Before the principal could finish introducing all the heroes, the front door swung open, causing a loud noise to fill the room. Immediately, all eyes were back on the front door at whoever just barged in.

“Hawks, you’re late.” One of the other pro-heroes said in a disappointed, authoritative tone.

“Sorry captain. Villain fight, if you know what I mean,” he jokingly informed the other pro-hero in a sarcastic tone of voice. He laughed it off while the other heroes kind of just rolled their eyes. When he was finished with his little antics, Hawks looked at the audience and looked at each teacher in the eye.

“Hawks. Nice to meet everyone,” he introduced himself. When he got to you, his eyes froze. You refused to meet his eye and looked away for the rest of the meeting. But you could feel his stare on you.

“Alright, meeting dismissed. Teachers, you can go to your classrooms. I’ll send you your assigned heroes in a bit.” The principal gave the final word and dismissed everyone. You quickly gathered your materials and bolted out of there, actively avoiding a certain blonde hero.

You anxiously wait in your homeroom class. Not because you were nervous about meeting the kids for the first time, but because you were anxious about which hero was assigned to your class to guest speak. A knock could be heard on your door and you quickly open it. Blonde hair properly groomed to the side. His outfit was made out of jeans from hear to toe. With a sigh of relief, you let the hero in. It wasn’t Keigo. Now you could relax without all the nerves messing you up through the day.

You rolled your head in circles and massaged you shoulders. Man, it was a long first day. Fun and exciting, but definitely long. After the heroes gave their speeches to the students, they immediately left to focus back on their hero work. Good, because that meant you didn’t have to run into Keigo accidentally. You sighed and packed up your bag, ready to relax back at your apartment. Before you could escape your workplace, a female coworker wrapped their arms around your shoulder.

“Hey newcomer. Leaving already?” she asks. You look behind your shoulder and gave a curt nod. She pouted at your lack of response. “Aw, too bad. Well, everyone’s going out for drinks and a bit of dancing. Wanna join?”

“Right now? It’s barely dark out,” you question their thought process and look outside the window. The sun was still bright in the sky. I guess the sun was about to set, but not for another hour or two. “I guess it couldn’t hurt.” You mumbled to yourself. But your coworker heard you loud and clear. She was already smiling from ear to ear.

“Great! Let’s go!” she grabbed you by the arm and dragged you out of there, right behind the rest of your coworkers.

“Ah, but, I’m still in my work clothes,” you stuttered and looked down at your outfit. You were dressed pretty nice for your first day, but still. Going out in your work clothes was just not it. You could already feel the stares of strangers looking at you weirdly.

“We all are! It’s a company dinner. No one’s going to say anything,” she reassured you. And she was right. Looks like this was a regular thing in Japan. There were several groups of people wearing business casual or business formal attire at the place you were drinking at. It was more like a club. There were private rooms for big crowds, as well as a bar, a dance floor and a DJ. An interesting setting but no one else seemed effected by the atmosphere. Everyone was taking shots or taking sips of their drinks, laughing and having a good time.

You got to play some drinking games with your coworkers and got to know them within a short period of time. Drinking, even just a little bit, just brings out the chatter box in you. You usually only drink enough to have fun, but you were having a great time. You forgot about today’s events and just started living in the moment. Some of the male coworkers sang their hearts out to karaoke. You were shocked and appalled that the principal was also joining in. But you were all having fun, where’s the harm in that?

At the bar, Hawks was ordering a whiskey on the rocks. He put his drink to his lips, slowly drinking it with his arms resting on the countertop looking over at the people on the dance floor. He doesn’t usually come out to the bars. It was once in a blue moon, maybe even rarer. He didn’t have time to mess around nor was he really interested in crowds like this. But he had to figure out how to get someone out of his head. You. He had to get you out of his head. Hawks was not prepared to see you today. He wasn’t expecting or anticipating it. Seeing you took him completely off guard. Hell, he didn’t even know you were back in Japan. Dammit. And if it wasn’t enough, you avoided him. You actively refused to look at him and fuck did that sting like a motherfucker. Ah well, at least you guys won’t be bumping into each other often. Or so he thought.

You were currently being dragged to the dance floor with a few of your female coworkers. All of you surrounded yourselves with each other and formed your own little circle. At first you were shy. You knew how to get down when you were overseas but you weren’t sure if Japan shared the same energy. When you felt comfortable and safe enough, you started swaying your hips to the music. Letting the music take over your body and let’s be honest, you also let the alcohol do the talking. Eventually, you were dancing like it was nobody’s business, dancing with all the ladies around you.

Hawks cocked an eyebrow as he saw you dancing. You looked different. You looked… more carefree. Independent. Confident. And he can safely say that you were very much attracting him. His eyes traveled your body as you swayed your hips to the beat and even swayed against the other women that were with you. You were teaching your coworkers a few moves you picked up at college in the States and god damn was it sexy to watch. The way your work skirt hugged your ass was already catching his eye. But he couldn’t look away when you started to move your ass up and down, twerking on one of your coworkers. That coworker was embarrassed but played along but you eventually laughed it off.

You were having so much fun letting loose. When you turned around with a wide smile on your lips, you spotted a winged blondie looking your way. Keigo. You couldn’t tell if your heart was racing from the alcohol or if it was from seeing your ex again. But a thought came to your mind. Maybe it was the alcohol. You smirked to yourself and started to dance sexier. Keigo broke your heart to become a hero and because you didn’t have a quirk. Well you were going to show Hawks what this quirkless teacher can do and what he’s been missing out on.

You made eye contact with said hero and moved your body in a way that would attract anyone’s attention. You moved your hands up and down your body as you rolled your hips, feeling yourself to the music. Hawks scoffed and admired the show you were giving him. In one shot, he down the whiskey in his cup and forcefully set it down on the counter behind him. His predatory eyes were on you and only you. Hawks made his way towards you but before he could get to you, another man was rubbing himself on you.

Amidst your dance, you felt a pair of rough hands grab your waist and tug you backwards so that your body was flushed against someone’s chest. A hot breath met your left ear, making you shudder in fear. You tried to push his hands off you but to no avail. That just made him tighten his grip.

“Come on, dance with my pretty lady,” he disgustingly whispered in your ear. Your coworkers didn’t notice anything yet since everyone was dancing in the moment. And it was hard to tell that someone was touching you since the dance floor was filled with people and flushed bodies were everywhere. You were in a predicament. You wanted to say something but before you could, his grip magically let go. Turning your head, you saw Hawks grabbing the stranger’s wrist in a death grip.

“This pretty lady doesn’t look like she wants to dance with you,” he commented, eyes looking unamused. The man groaned at how tight his grip was but tried to fight him back. By this time, Hawks was already squeezing his body between you two, so that the man couldn’t get to you.

“Fuck off man,” the stranger shouted, swinging his free hand to aim at Hawks’ face. But Hawks was already one step ahead of him. He easily caught the man’s fist. But it made Hawks more furious. He spread his wings wide as a warning, scaring you, the pervert and everyone around you. He was careful enough to not hit anyone but it was still intimidating. This scared the man and he finally fled, going straight to the exit. When he deemed it was safe enough, he let his wings go back to their resting position. Taking a big, deep breath out, he turned to face you. You, still shocked, looked up at him. You both just stared at each other and everyone around you continued doing them.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern written all over his face.

“Mm,” you hummed, looking down in embarrassment. “Thanks…” Your mood was ruined now. All because of some horny guy you couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

“You don’t look it,” Hawks commented, sensing your change of mood. You were grateful for what he did, of course. But now was not the time. You felt upset and violated that you just wanted to go home now.

“Look, Kei- ah, Hawks. I’ll be fine. Excuse me,” you excused yourself from his presence and approached one of your coworkers.

“Hey, I’m gonna head home now!” you told her, yelling loud enough so that she could hear. You could see the disappointment in her face but didn’t stop you. She acknowledged you and then went back to having fun. Giving one last look of appreciation to the hero of the night, you made your way out the door and into the cool, night air.

Chills ran down your spine. You were not expecting it to be this cold out. And what’s worse, your head was still foggy from drinking so much at the bar. A sigh left your lips as you tried to pay attention and just focus on getting home. Once you got home, then could you finally relax and re-energize for work. And you could do that once you got a little birdie off your shoulder. You stopped in your tracks and sighed.

“Are you really following me?” you asked aloud. If there were passersby, they would think you were crazy for talking to yourself. Hawks came down from a nearby building, landing right in front of you with a sheepish smile on his face.

“You knew?”

“It was hard not to when I could hear to flapping your wings this whole time,” you explained. You put your hands on your hips in a disapproving manner. “Go home. I can walk by myself.” Hawks cleared his throat and straightened up, his wings moving along with him. Wow, they were bigger than you remember.

“Heroes have to make sure that the citizens stay safe from danger. You drank. And you’re walking alone in the middle of the night. I was just making sure you got home safe. You know, cause that’s my job. As a hero.” God, he was so awkward.

“Got it. Well if you want to walk me home, you’re gonna have to exchange it for your jacket,” you said, pointing to the brown jacket that he was wearing. You already knew Hawks wasn’t going to leave you alone, no matter how many times you tell him that you’re okay. So you took advantage of this opportunity to at least get some warmth on the way. Hawks smirked and handed you his jacket with no hesitation. And so you began to walk back to your apartment together.

Silence. Dead silence between you two. It was so awkward. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything so that you could walk home in peace. But it was too late to think about that because now you were in this situation. Should you say something? What do you even say? What do you even talk about? Oh, how’s life after breaking my heart in high school? Please… that was 5 years ago. You couldn’t believe you were still salty about it. Believe it or not, Hawks was thinking the same thing. He didn’t know what to bring up. Does he bring up the past? Or does he bring up what he saw at the club? There was no point in asking ice breaker questions. Shit, so what does he bring up? And so you continued to walk in silence until you finally reached you apartment. You spun around and handed Hawks his jacket back.

“Thanks for the escort back. And… thanks for what happened back there,” you thanks him, embarrassed that that even happened.

“Always a pleasure,” he responded. Awkward silence. You bit the inside of your cheek. Man, this was really killing you.

“Well, good night,” you bid your farewell. Opening your door, you enter your apartment and was about to close the door when Hawks stuck his foot out to prevent you from closing it all the way. You open your door back up and look at him with a questioning look.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

“Oh,” that took you by surprise. “About what?” Hawks was hesitant to say.

“Us?” he asks like even he is questioning his decision.

“What’s there to talk about? It was a while ago and-”

“I know. I know but… I feel like I should apologize and explain for um, what happened so,” he said. It took a lot for him to swallow his pride but he had to do this. He had to make this right. It took you a second to process his request because you were not expecting that at all. You had two choices: either leave it alone and let the past be the past or clear up the ‘misunderstandings’ between you two? Well, it couldn’t hurt to choose the latter. You moved your body to the side and opened the door wider.

“Come on in, it’s cold.” You offered and Hawks gladly accepted.

He sat on your couch while you quickly went to make him a hot cup of tea. You set the tea on the coffee table in front of him and sat next to him, putting a throw pillow on your lap. You looked at him, waiting for him to start first. Hawks took a deep breath and faced you.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he confessed, giving a small laugh. You shifted in your seat, hugging the pillow tighter.

“Mmm, I guess… why did you break up with me?” you asked, not having the confidence to look at him anymore. You were opening up old wounds and started to feel some type of way.

“I didn’t want to break up with you, y’know? But when I thought about the future and aspired to be this great hero, I knew that you were going to have a difficult time. You were going to be hurt either way, so I guess. I don’t know. Decided to end it early before it got to that point?”

“And so you decided to be an ass to me?” you looked at him annoyed now. No matter what his reasons were, valid or not, his behavior was inexcusable to you.

“I’m sorry. I thought that if I treated you that way then you’d have an easier time moving on.”

“That’s the most cliché thing ever,” you pouted angrily, playing with the ends of the pillow. If he would have talked to you, then maybe you guys could have come to a compromise or met in the middle. Only if he would have talked and listened to you then this probably wouldn’t have happened. Dumb Keigo. Always trying to think about others but hurting them in the process. You couldn’t help but feel angry at his explanation. So much to the point where you were blinking the tears away. Hawks was staring at you this whole time and noticed the tears in your eyes and how you were trying to hard for them not to fall. When a single tear did finally escape, he cupped your cheek, rubbing the tear away.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you,” he apologized, barely above a whisper. You put your hand over his and looked up into his eyes. He must have moved closer to you because his face was just inches from yours.

“I’m fine. I kinda got over it a while ago,” you said, matching how soft his voice was.

“Let me make it up to you.” He suggested.

“How are you going to do that?” you looked up at him. His eyes could be seen wandering down the features of your face, landing on your lips that were slightly parted. He chuckled and he continued to stare at your lips.

“I mean, I know one way.” Then he looked back at your eyes. “If you’d let me.” He was asking permission. His eyes were more seductive and his voice went an octave lower. And it was turning you on. Hawks saw in your eyes that you were feeling the same way yet you didn’t say anything. He took this opportunity to slowly lean into you, ready to back away if you gave a signal. But you didn’t move. The closer he got, the lowers your lids got. By the time your eyes were fully closer, his lips met yours in a soft kiss. Not too light but not too forceful either. It was nice. He pulled away just barely. You could feel his breath on yours still as he broke away from the kiss. There was a pause. He was waiting for you to maybe back away or smack him but it never came. Taking that as a good sign, he went back in for another kiss, you kissing him back just as hard.

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

The kiss between you started out innocent and loving. But got hungrier and needier by the second. You attacked his lips like your life dependent on it. Hawks was leaning more into you, both arms on either side of you entrapping you between the couch and him. One hand gripped on his forearm and the other laid on top of his chest. Your nails softly and slowly raked his chest, causing a reaction out of him, nipping at your lower lip. Hawks was getting frustrated at the lack of contact because of the pillow that was still in your lap.

“Let’s get rid of this,” he quickly said, taking the pillow and throwing it aimlessly across the room. You giggled by how aggressive and eager he was to get it out of the way. But you couldn’t even bare to have his lips leave yours, even for that quick second. Your hands cupped his face, brining him closer, afraid that if you let go he could disappear, and kissed him again. Hawks smirked into the kiss, pressing his body on yours. The bulge in his pants prominent as his hips met yours. You moaned into the kiss when you felt his hard on press firmly onto your clit. Hawks took his opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. His wet muscle fought yours for dominance and explored every part of your mouth. Sucking, licking, pulling. Hawks couldn’t get enough. And he wanted more.

He detached his mouth from yours, a trail of saliva still connecting your tongues together. And went straight to attacking your neck. He wasted no time in leaving marks all over you neck, shoulder and chest. He sucked on the sensitive skin, biting it from time to time. It was painful but fuck did it feel so good. When he was done with one hickey, he licked it to ease the pain a bit but then immediately went to make another one. You probably should have stopped him because you didn’t want your coworkers or your boss to see them. But you didn’t want him to stop.

Your hands got tangled within his blonde locks while Hawks was grabbing hold of your waist, his hands impressively untucking your shirt to show a little bit of skin. You moan which causes him to growl in satisfaction. Oh god that was so sexy. The growl in his voice sent shock waves straight to your pussy. You were getting wetter and wetter by the second. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing and that was soon to change. God, how you wanted more of him right now. Grabbing his face, you brough him in for another dominating kiss. Hawks removed his hands from your waist and moved it to your thighs. Your skirt riding up nice and easy for him. He grabbed your thigh, forcefully hooking your leg to wrap around his waist to get better access to your ass.

He’s squeezing your ass, definitely leaving bruises to be found the next morning. And as much as he loved the taste of your lips, right now, he wanted to go back to attacking your sensitive neck. And that’s what he did. Your breathing became uneasy and turned into deep pants. Was it getting hotter in here? Because your body was growing hotter by the second. Luckily, Hawks was always one step ahead. His hands started to unbutton your white blouse. When it got halfway, he just takes both sides of your blouse and rips it open impatiently. It was taking too long and he was too needy to wait.

“Keigo,” you whined, playfully hitting his shoulder.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he said in a rush. Because he wasted no time in cupping your breasts, admiring the black laced bra you wore. As if he hadn’t eaten in weeks, he devoured your breasts in his mouth. He buried his face, sucking and leaving marks on the mounds of your breasts. He could spend a good time there because fuck, your tits were so perfect. You moaned as you felt the bulge on his pants grow even bigger. That wasn’t helping the friction you needed oh so badly down there. You tried lifting your hips to make contact with his boner but he had to strapped down so you could barely move.

“Keigo,” you cooed his name. “I want more.” You pleaded. He let go of one of your breasts with a loud pop and shushes you.

“Patience little birdie. I promise I’ll make you feel good,” he promises. He continues to massage your breasts, peppering kisses all over your cleavage.

Finally giving you what you want, his hand reaches lower until its right above your clit. You moan in pleasure as he teases your clit with his middle finger. One long stride going from your clit all the way down to your dripping core.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he says, moving your panties to the side to reveal your dripping pussy. Hawks uses his middle finger to gather your juices and gently enters it in you. “Shit, look at that. I didn’t even need to prep you. Your pussy just took in my finger so well.” His mouth was watering watching you completely take his fingers with ease. But it was only one finger. Slowly, he added another finger and then another. Hawks was careful to make sure that he wasn’t hurting you. So every time he entered another finger, he would glance up and see if your facial expression changed. When you had adjusted to all three fingers in you, Hawks moved his fingers slowly. Pumping his fingers in an agonizingly slow pace, making sure he felt every inch of your walls. It was driving you mad. His fingers were finally in you but you were still craving more.

In an attempt to make him go faster, you used your free hand to grab the bulge in his pants. In the same agonizing pace he was going, you stroked his cock up and down through his pants. Hawks bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from moaning from your touch, but you heard it. He groaned, his voice vibrating from deep within his throat. But that seemed to do the trick. The faster he fingered you, the faster you pumped his cock. Moans were coming out of your mouth nonstop. His fingers kept hitting the perfect spot. And it didn’t help that he curled his fingers to add to the effect. Your head was in a daze, feeling your first orgasm coming. Your grip on his cock was softening because you were in such a euphoric state to continue. The moans coming out of your mouth became silent as the orgasm washed over you, your legs trembling. Hawks could feel you clench hard around his fingers, but he wasn’t stopping. He was going to help you ride it out until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

You were coming down from you high and now you were craving one thing. You needed his dick in your mouth. This time, you took the initiative. You pushed his shoulders back so that he was comfortably sitting back on the couch. You kneeled in front of him, already unbuckling his belt. While you were busy taking his pants off, Hawks got rid of the rest of his clothing and threw it somewhere around the room.

You got his pants down to his ankles and revealed his thick, throbbing cock. Precum was already dribbling on the side. Gripping his cock with one hand, you teased him by leaving one long lick, collecting the precum on your tongue. Several curses were being thrown by the winged man but you wanted to keep teasing him. You licked the tip of his dick where more precum was oozing out. Then you wrapped your lips fully around the tip, but just the tip. You pulled up, kissing the tip which made Hawks go crazy. His head was thrown back and his hands were gripping his hair. Seeing that view, you think you did enough teasing to him. Liking your lips in anticipation, you sunk your mouth all the way down his length.

“(y/n)!!!” Hawks screamed your name. His hands instinctively went straight to your hair. You were expecting him to push down on you to take as much of him in your mouth as you can but it didn’t come. Instead, he gathered all your hair in one hand, holding it up for you. But his grip was strong enough to leave pleasure running down your spine. You looked up to see him already eyeing you and how full your mouth was with his dick and his dick alone. Drool was coming down the side of your mouth. At that sight, Hawks’ mouth was left agape.

“Look at that pretty mouth,” he complimented you. If you could smile, you would. But your mouth was already full, preventing you from doing so. So, you hummed in response. The vibrations of your mouth sent Hawks over the edge and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck, come here,” he takes you off his dick and before you know it, you were straddling his waist, being lifted into the air. “Where’s your room?” he breathed.

“Down the hall to the left,” you breathed back. Your lips connected to one another once again. He carries you down the hall, kicks open your door and throws you on the bed. Before you could process what was happening, Hawks was spreading your legs wide open. He completely removed your panties and your skirt so that your glistening pussy was open and ready for him. He pinned your legs down so you couldn’t squirm around or close your legs shut. Taking one big whiff of your essence, blush rushed to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but cover your face at such an embarrassing act.

“Come on little birdie. Why are you covering your face,” he teased, his lips lightly brushing against your folds.

“I’m embarrassed…” you admitted. Hawks smirked and made you uncover your face.

“Don’t be. I wanna see your face scrunch up in pleasure when I eat you out,” he said. As soon as he finished that statement, he was devouring your pussy like there was no tomorrow. He slurped up all your flowing juices. Tongue exploring every part of you, leaving no place untouched. The noise that he was making was so sinful. But it turned you on even more. It wasn’t long before he could control himself. He gave you one last lick and then spit on your pussy as a parting gift.

He pumped his cock a few times before lining it in front of your entrance. Slowly, he sinks his cock into you, causing you both to moan in sync. Hawks takes is slow at first. Fully taking his cock out and filling you back up again. Then, out of nowhere, he’s ramming his cock in you, going at an impressive speed. Moans filled the room. They were so loud, you were certain that your neighbors could hear every tune coming out of your mouth.

“Fuck. So tight,” he grunts. Staying the same position, he puts your legs together and hugs them, gaining better access. His cock reaches deeper than before in this position. He hits that sweet spot that makes you roll your eyes back and made your back arch.

“Oh god, r-right there! Please fuck me right there!” you beg, already feeling another orgasm coming. He obeys, hitting the same spot over and over again until you’re seeing stars. Your pussy clenches so tight around his member that that was the last straw. He pulls out and is soon cumming all over your chest and stomach. Both of you are a panting, sweaty mess. While you were both coming down from your high, Hawks leans over and bumps your foreheads together. You take that moment to just be in each other’s presence.

“Um, Keigo?” you call out his name. He snaps his eyes to you. “I’m sticky.” You inform him. Immediately, he gets up from the bed in a panic.

“Oh shit shit shit shit,” he kept repeating and runs to find the bathroom. When he comes back, he has a wet towel in hand to clean up the mess he made on you. He throws the towel in the dirty laundry basket that was by your door and lays down next to you on the bed.

“That was-” he starts.

“yeah…” you finish. There was no deny that that quick sex session was absolutely amazing. And there were absolutely no words to describe how good it felt. You both looked at each other and laughed, cuddling closer together.

“Can I stay the night?” he asks. His hand moves the hair out of your face and then cups your cheek.

“Yes please.”

Tagged: @ditu-m9 @snuckerfrcnicken @flowersgirl02 @bestgirlkonan

#dabi x reader #hawks x reader #Touya x reader #hawks imagine #dabi imagine #bnha dabi #bnha hawks #bnha imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #touya is dabi change my mind #hawks smut #bnha smut

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

On The Ground (Rosénali) - Moonshot

A/N: So… Guess who is back after a year of not writing fics? Yours truly! What can I say? Rosénali is that powerful of a ship. As always, I hope eveyone enjoys this fic. Feel free to let me know what you think… Who knows, there might be a follow up to this little fluff in the future! Little side note: this is a lesbian au where most of the s13/s12 girls appearing are cis-female, however Mik is still a trans man in the fic.

Summary: The diner girl!Denali x street singer!Rosé AU based on Blackpink’s Rosé’s solo music that nobody asked for!

ao3 link https://archiveofourown.org/works/30267687

Denali stared at the round clock above the entrance of the diner.

4:57 PM.

Three more minutes until her shift was over.

Three more minutes until the girl who had been a fixed character in her dreams would come from around the corner, set up her guitar, greet the passersby before starting her set for the evening like she did every Wednesday.

“So, gorge, are you going to ask the champagne girl out today, or are you just going to keep on creepily staring at her from afar?”, her coworker, Kade - or as everyone called him, Mik - appeared next to her with an empty tray.

“Her name is Rosé, not champagne girl!”, Denali rebutted, “and also, for the record, I don’t just… stare. I just happen to like appreciating her set without bothering her! It’s not like she was flirting with me that one time”.

“Did I just hear our Nali denying her crush on that pink-haired singer, again?”, Olivia, who was busy running the cash register, chimed in.

“Girl, I think we should start betting against her and maybe we’ll make more money than what they can pay us here!”, Mik joked as he washed some of the dishes in the sink.

The black-haired girl rolled her eyes, ignoring her two best friends and focusing on the performer’s much-anticipated arrival.

Denali didn’t believe in love at first sight but after the first time Rosé and her guitar had shown up on the other side of the road from Tamisha’s Diner, she couldn’t think about anything else.

There was just something about the other girl that had the Alaskan girl enamored.

The first - and so far only - time she had talked to Rosé was out of necessity as the other girl and who she assumed were her two best friends - the diner girls had dubbed them ‘Pastel Powerpuff girls’ - had decided to dine in just as Denali’s shift at the register had started.

“Hi! Did you enjoy our diner?”, the skater had put on her best smile, not quite able to meet the gaze of the taller girl as she typed out the receipt.

“Oh, sure, the skating gig is cute, the food’s great, and the service… isn’t too bad either,” Denali could see from the corner of her eye the smirk on the pink-haired girl.

“Rosie! Quit flirting with every cute girl that breathes and hurry up or Jan and I are leaving you here, the Uber is going to be here in 2 minutes!”, the blue-haired girl went on with the other girl in the friend group while ‘Rosie’ rolled her eyes at them.

“Sorry about Lagoona, she has the tact of an elephant on rollerskates,” the taller girl joked.

“O-Oh, no problem. So, your total is 20,04$, will you be paying in cash or card? Also, are you splitting the bill?”

“Since dumb and dumber over there already left, I’ll just pay everything with my card,” she replied taking out her purse and taking out her credit card, “here you go, angel”.

Denali tried her best not to blush at the sudden pet name, maintaining her on-the-clock persona as she brought out the card reader. She quickly finished up the operation and handed the pink-haired girl her card back with the receipt, “I just need a quick signature here and you’re free to go to your friends”.

‘Rosie’ scribbled down her signature - she learned her actual name was Rosé, classy yet slightly worrying - and left a tip for her.

A 10$ tip for her.

“Gorge, she left you a 10$ tip, she was basically asking for your hand in marriage”, Mik reminded her, his eyes darting around the half-empty diner.

He nodded his head to his left where Denali saw another one of her co-workers sharing a milkshake with her girlfriend, giggling like teenagers, “I’m just saying. If Utica managed to end up dating that self-proclaimed ebony enchantress over there, you got a chance with wine girl”, he ended with his trademark L.A vocal fry.

Denali knew Mik had a point, but as she was about to reply, she heard the familiar sound of a guitar starting a new song. Her eyes glanced back at the clock.

5:14 PM

Damn, she had missed the beginning of the set.

The Alaskan girl didn’t lose any more time as she clocked out, skates still on her feet as she zoomed out of the diner.

“Aaaaand she’s gone!”, Olivia commented, turning her head to Mik, “Do you think this time is the good one?”

“Well, if she doesn’t finally go after her, I might as well go after her myself!”

Denali reached the usual crowd that had already formed around Rosé, trying her best to blend in and not be seen by the singer while still getting a good view of the set.

“Well, aren’t you guys a lovely crowd!”, the pink-haired singer smiled as she got ready for the next song, “I’ve got one last song for today and this is going to be the first time I’ll be performing it, so, don’t hate it too much!”, she chuckled as she checked her guitar before turning her head back to the mic stand, “This is On The Ground, I’m Rosé and I hope you’ve enjoyed the set! Feel free to drop your tips in the guitar case!”

Denali couldn’t take her eyes off Rosé when she heard the guitar’s first chord paired with the honey-like vocals.

My life’s been magic seems fantastic

I used to have a hole

in the wall with a mattress

It’s funny when you want it

Suddenly you have it

You find out that your gold’s just plastic

The black-haired girl quickly pulled out her phone, opened her voice memo app, and hit record. She wanted to treasure the magic Rosé’s voice brought.

What she failed to notice while she was so into the song was a pair of hazel eyes settling on her as the song reached its climax.

A couple of days later, Denali had just finished with her teaching job at the local ice rink when she spotted Olivia on the railings.

“The suspicious lack of a certain pink-haired girl makes me think that you still haven’t asked her out” she heard the younger girl say as she skated her way to her.

“You’ll never let it go, won’t you, Liv?”

“Not when I see that you like her and, from what I’ve seen, she is at least interested in you. Mik tried to ask her out yesterday after your shift was over,” the other girl replied.

Denali furrowed her brows, “Wait, he was serious about asking her out? I thought he was just joking!”

“If you don’t act on your cute pink crush, you can’t expect everyone else to stop for you,” Olivia reasoned, “if it’s of any help, Mik did say that, and I quote ‘she didn’t want a piece of this fine ass’”, she finished, air quoting their co-worker.

“To be honest, the dude’s barely got an ass compared to me,” Denali muttered, but her best friend managed to catch it.

“Well, as Symone said, you do have a fat ass,” Olivia commented, causing both of them to laugh out loud.

She continued, “Point still stands though, you gotta do something or you might just end up regretting not doing anything about it”.

The dark-haired girl sighed, “I know, I’m just… scared to get hurt because she seems so cool and unreachable, and I’m just so… me?”, she confessed, resting her arms on the rails.

“Give it a chance, Nali,” Olivia replied, laying her hand on the skater’s arm and giving it a gentle squeeze, “And just in case, if she fucks you over, we’ll just unleash Kandy on her!”, she added, making Denali chuckle.

“Girl, if she knew you said that…”

“She would do absolutely nothing because she’s too busy chasing after that Joey guy”, she didn’t miss a beat with her reply, giving her a knowing look, “Almost forgot to ask, are you coming later to the club with the others?”

Denali shook her head, “No, sorry. I don’t feel like clubbing today, I’ll just skate a bit more and then go home to watch some Netflix”.

Olivia shrugged her shoulders, “You do you, girl. But think about what I said, okay?”

She gave her best friend a small smile, “Thanks, Liv. See you at work?”

The younger girl nodded and left Denali to her thought as she exited the room. The black-haired skater turned her head back to the rink, noticing that only a few people were left on the ice.

She took a deep breath, putting her earbuds back in and looking through her phone to decide on what song to use for her last routine of the day. Her eyes fell on the voice memo app, immediately reminding herself of the recording she had taken just a few days prior. She hadn’t even listened to it since she had recorded it.

It wasn’t a clean recording, she could hear the sounds of the city and the people around her, but she closed her eyes and focused on Rosé’s voice, letting it guide her.

The music fully took her over as she performed her usual stunts.

I’m way up in the clouds

And they say I’ve made it now

But I figured it out

Everything I need is on the ground

She found herself in the center of the rink, the bridge of the song was blasting in her ears. She smiled to herself as she started to spin, gradually picking up speed while Rosé’s high notes were all she could focus on.

Just drove by your house

So far from you now

But I figured it out

Everything I need is on the

Everything I need is on the ground

The recording stopped abruptly, she remembered how she had to bolt away, almost missing her bus home.

Denali could hear her heavy breathing, suddenly aware again that she wasn’t alone. But she had made up her mind.

She was going to talk to Rosé the following Wednesday.

That Wednesday the diner was busier than usual, giving Denali barely a moment to think, let alone realize she was missing Rosé’s set outside.

She glanced at the clock.

5:26 PM

Shit.

She turned her head and looked outside the diner’s big windows and saw that the pink-haired girl was starting to gather her things.

“Miss Iman just left, go to her! We’ll cover for you and we are not letting you get back in unless you got a date!”, Olivia said quietly enough for just her to hear.

Denali couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face. She grabbed some of the tips that she had made before she bolted outside, faintly hearing the cheering of her friends.

As she reached Rosé on the other side of the road, the singer’s back was facing her, she didn’t seem to have noticed Denali yet.

The black-haired girl took a deep breath, just like she had done on the ice rink, and let the tips fall into the still open guitar case.

The noise of falling change was what made Rosé turn around, a surprised look on her face as she registered Denali’s face.

“Denali?”

Gosh, she could hear the other girl say her name all day.

Wait.

“How do you know my name?”, Denali asked slightly confused.

Rosé didn’t reply but simply pointed at the waitress’s chest.

Oh, right. The nameplate on her uniform.

“That and also I tend to remember a pretty face when I see one,” she added, now her attention fully on the shorter girl.

“Oh, yeah, right”, she fidgeted awkwardly, not knowing where to look, “Uhm, I just wanted to say that you have a really beautiful voice. You can consider me your first fan when you make it big”.

Rosé smiled at her and Denali couldn’t help but notice how beautiful of a smile she had.

The singer turned back to her stuff, shuffling things around and leaving the brunette to her thoughts. She wanted to ask the taller girl out but felt all her courage leave her body.

Way to go, Nali.

“Well, Uhm, I think I should-”, she started but she was stopped by the pink-haired girl, who had finished packing everything up.

“Here, this is for you”.

It was a jewel case cd, a picture of Rosé in a very 80s inspired attire on the cover with pink marker writing across the front.

‘To Denali

My first (and hopefully not last) fan

Rosé xo’

It was signed with a small rose doodle next to Rosé’s name and, much to Denali’s surprise, a phone number along with the phrase ‘put it to good use’.

She looked up to find the other girl staring at her, her guitar case strapped on her back. She gave her a wink and started walking towards the subway.

Denali stood there for what felt like forever as she watched Rosé disappear in between the crowd of people roaming the streets.

She looked back down at the cd, committing the number to memory. She turned around to look at the back, her eyes were drawn to the tracklist.

She smiled when she saw On The Ground.

Finally, she didn’t have to listen to a shitty phone recording to enjoy it.

“Wait, what? You had recorded it all secretly and shady, mama?”

Rosé’s laugh filled the room as Denali tried to hide her face on the other girl’s bare chest.

“You’re an ass! I just wanted to use it for one of my skating routines”, she muttered, causing her girlfriend to laugh even harder.

“I find it cute that I’m not even famous and my music has already been pirated!” she commented, “I’m already halfway there to stardom, baby girl,” she added, kissing the top of Denali’s head.

The shorter girl groaned as she hid the increasing blush on her cheeks, rolling her body so that she was on top of the pink-haired girl.

“Well, miss Rosé, is it pirating if it was for personal pleasure only?”, Denali teased, running her hands upwards on the naked skin, slowly lowering herself until her face was inches away from her girlfriend’s.

She felt Rosé’s hands take a firm hold of her behind, “Oh angel, I’ll show you personal pleasure,” the singer replied, eliminating the little space left between their lips as Denali brought her hands to cup the older girl’s face.

Rethinking about those lyrics Rosé had written months prior, Denali knew she was right, she did have everything she needed on the ground.

It was to be right there with Rosé.

#rpdr fanfiction #denali foxx #rosé #olivia lux #gottmik #rosnali #fluff #lesbian au #diner au #s13 #moonshot #submission

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akatsukitobi · 3 years

Text

KakaYama Master Post

Here you will find all of the links to my KakaYama specific fics, along with some information about them. Each title will be color-coded by its rating, and I will be using pink to represent "T" rated fics. These are ordered from newest written to oldest.

Wasted Moments

Summary: Tenzo studies hard for college, and doesn't have much time for friends. So why is it that his drunk neighbor keeps breaking into his apartment to sleep on his couch?

Tags: slow burn, pining, smut

Ch: 5/?, wc: 14.5k

3 for the price of 1

Summary: Kakashi indulges Tenzo with a bit of birthday sex.

Tags: smut, clone sex, foursome

Ch: 1/1, wc: 3,693

Dehumanized

Summary: Kakashi and Tenzo's mission goes horribly wrong, and they are left to try and heal during the aftermath.

Tags: Rape, underage, suicidal thoughts, PTSD, depression, eventual happy ending

Ch: 8/?, wc: 33k

We've Got Tonight

Summary: soulmate au- when you turn 18, your internal clock is put on pause if your soulmate is younger than you.

Tags: fluff and smut

Ch: 1/1, wc: 3,251

Welcome Home

Summary: Tenzo is pulled from anbu to cover for an injured Kakashi, and is reminded of something he lost a long time ago.

Tags: pack family, instincts!Kakashi

Ch: 1/1, wc: 4,966

Coming Undone

Summary: Tenzo is overworked, and Kakashi convinces the crew to give him a much deserved weekend of rest aboard their sister ship, The Akatsuki.

Tags: fluff and smut, pirate au

Ch: 1/1, wc: 5,226

Paralyzer

Summary: Tenzo let's Sai drag him out to the club on Halloween, and runs into far too many of his coworkers.

Tags: modern au, smut, piercings

Ch: 1/1, wc: 4,951

The Way You Make Me Feel

Summary: Kakashi and Tenzo finally attempt to go on a date after the fourth shinobi war is over... only to be interrupted by team 7.

Tags: first kiss, awkward dates

Ch: 1/1, wc: 2,615

Hidden Away

Summary: Kakashi and Tenzo are lawyers out at a work dinner with their boss, when the restaurant is a victim of armed robbery while both men are in the bathroom!

Tags: smut, modern au, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, public sex

Ch: 1/1, wc: 3,725

Like Nobody's Watching

Summary: Tenzo likes to dance when no one is around... and what else is there to do when he is on guard rotation for the Hokage?

Tags: fluff

Ch: 1/1, wc: 681

In Too Deep

Summary: Tenzo becomes jealous as every woman in the village drags Kakashi away. He hatched a plan for revenge.

Tags: smut, sexy jutsu

Ch: 1/1, wc: 4,982

Sweet Child O Mine

Summary: Tenzo and Kakashi are on a mission when Kakashi is turned back into a child. Tenzo takes the opportunity to pick on his captain for once.

Tags: age regression, friends to lovers, canon typical violence

Ch: 1/1, wc: 5,550

Comfort Me

Summary: Kakashi's apartment is destroyed (definitely not his fault), and Tenzo offers him a place to stay.

Tags: friends to lovers, roommates

Ch: 1/1, wc: 2,070

Accept Me

Summary: Kakashi brings his boyfriend home to meet his father.

Tags: family fluff, modern au

Ch: 1/1, wc: 1,288

Complete Me

Summary: Kakashi comes home from a mission feeling like a monster, and Tenzo helps him feel human again.

Tags: smut

Ch: 1/1, wc: 1,509

Spread Your Wings

Summary: Kakashi is lost in the forest when he comes across a deserted cottage. At least he THOUGHT it was deserted. Instead, he finds himself in the pleasant company of a supernatural being that he didn't know existed.

Tags: fluff and smut, au- fantasy, fairies

Ch: 2/2, wc: 10, 847

Socks and Shenanigans

Summary: Kakashi has lucky socks... and Tenzo is confused.

Tags: Kakashi is a troll

Ch: 1/1, wc: 968

Bad Company

Summary: Kakashi and Tenzo are forced into quarantine for a month. Naturally, Kakashi decides to pass the time by starting a prank war with his poor unsuspecting kohai.

Tags: smut, friends to lovers, prank wars

Ch: 1/1, wc: 5,463

Please

Summary: Kakashi's finally presented as an omega at 20. Now he's trapped in his apartment, his heat in full swing.

Tags: abo, smut

Ch: 1/1, wc: 1,986

Hot and Bothered

Summary: When Kakashi's mission takes longer than expected and overlaps with his heat, how will he deal with it when he's stuck with an alpha who is so unaffected by pheromones that everyone thinks he is a beta?

Tags: abo, subspace, biting

Ch: 1/1, wc: 6,296

Shadows

Summary: Tenzo gets a call from the bar. Kakashi is drunk. Again. Sometimes dealing with a badly coping Anbu captain isn't as easy as it sounds... or maybe it should have been easy all along.

Tags: drinking, unhealthy coping mechanisms

Ch: 1/1, wc: 3,113

Of Wolf and Man

Summary: Kakashi is an alpha on a mission with his anbu team when Tenzo suddenly presents as an omega and doesn't know what to do. It's up to Kakashi to look after his poor kohai.

Tags: abo, smut

Ch: 1/1, wc: 4,542

I've got your back

Summary: After Kakashi's father dies, Minato and Kushina adopt him and become his family. Then, Kakashi meets a random stranger with a surprising jutsu out in the forest.

Tags: fluff, dogteeth Kakashi

Ch: 16/16, wc: 44,909

To My Soulmate

Summary: In a soulmate au where writing on your body transfers to your soulmate, Kakashi finds his, but refuses to let Tenzo know.

Tags: soulmate au, fluff

Ch: 1/1, wc: 4,120

Without You

Summary: Kakashi is in love with Tenzo but was never able to tell him before the war. Now Tenzo is presumed dead and Kakashi can't deal with it.

Tags: depression, drinking, happy ending

Ch: 1/1, wc: 5,070

#kakayama #fanfiction #kakashi hakate #yamato tenzo #Fic Master Post

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unstoppablepjm · 5 years

Text

My Ultimate Jikook Fic Rec Part 1

Hello everyone~

Finally! I’ll be starting my kookmin/jikook fic rec. This has taken quite a while and I have over 500 fics to share 😭I’ll be dividing my posts into different parts and hopefully when I read new ones, I can start posting them separately.

So again, some disclaimers before we start!

Most of the fics I read involve some pretty heavy tags and almost always involve smut (lmao sorry, I’m a heathen what can I say)

With that said, READ THE TAGS FOR EACH FIC. Remember kids: dead dove don’t eat.

This compilation will include: one-shots (c*mshots hekhek), chaptered, on-going, completed, and discontinued (yes, sadistic i know).

There may be some fluff recs here. But don’t count on it.

I'll cut the summaries as much as I can so that you won't get the whole block of text some writers include ksjdkjs

Again, and I will not stress this enough, don’t come at me if there are fics with dubious tags. I am a pretty open-minded reader and I’ve read my sizeable share of dark, disturbing fics so if you see tags not for you, move along.

I won't tag side ships unless they're tagged as the main relationship too

Also, I’ll intersperse some personal comments/observation if I feel like it. Usually I have these if a fic is particularly good or if I love how it's written 😊

Here's the link to my previous fic rec post: My Ultimate Jikook One-shot Fic Rec

OKAY, LET’S GET IT!

You are my home | On-going (15/?) | by: Erika1694

Summary: Jungkook is an awkward guy who befriends his next door neighbour Taehyung. Things go well until Taehyung introduces him to Jimin after which Jungkook's world turns upside down and he starts questioning everything including his sexuality.

His Pup | On-going (7/?) | by:Cho_Ha

Summary:Park Jimin must be going crazy because there was no way this disheveled looking guy was the cute little puppy he used to feed everyday after his night shift at the restaurant. Or Park Jimin feeds a puppy and meets a naked-ass dude.

Eden Afterworld | On-going (22/?) | by:Hadefex

Summary:Driven by rage over the public execution of his law abiding parents, Jimin enters the elite military district under the guise of being a prized Omega Positive to come face-to-face with the one person he hates more than himself - High Commander Jeon Jungkook. In a world where being Neutral is about as useless as being dead, how far is Jimin willing to go to get revenge?

Comment: i LOVE the writer's big mind. this is ot5 before jikook happens tho ehehe so if ur not down with that, skip

My Honey, You Taste So Sweet | On-going (7/?) | by:MyHope (CutesyMe)

Summary:Where Jimin only wants to find his soulmate but there is a war threatening him every second of his life

PHASES | On-going (2/?) | by:disneykoo

Summary:It was 4:30pm on a sunny friday evening in the middle of Seoul with nobody noticing that Park Jimin, son of CEO Park Jaemin, got kidnapped in the span of 15 seconds.

Typhon.exe | On-going (5/?) | by:kookiepeach

Summary:When grey hat hacker Jeon Jungkook sees Park Jimin at a party, all he wants to do is find out just a little bit more.

Your heartbeats told me | Completed (27/27) | by:Linn_Linn

Summary:What starts off with hate, soon turns to something else as Jimin and Jungkook begin to meet in secret. But what happens when secrets no longer can be kept? Friends comes and goes, but what about soulmates?

Comment: OMG I LOVE THIS FIC SM!! the gay awakening, the jk POV, the character development, the twists UGH! love it

Stockholm Syndrome | On-going (9/15) | by:expensive_latTae

Summary:“P-please, I’m sorry, let me go!” “You’re mine now. I’ll only let you go in death Angel.” Jimin never understood the Jeon Mafia’s Heir’s twisted obsession with him, and when did the pulsing pain under his skin and the artificial cage he was locked up in become a sign of love.

Comment: I'm interested to see where this goes. Hopefully the writer hasn't abandoned this yet

I Want Your Heart, Not Just Body | On-going (27/?) | by:IlovewritingJikook

Summary:When his village is attacked, Jimin is captured made a slave where he is bought on a whim as a birthday gift, and his life takes a drastic turn. Third Prince, Jungkook receives a surprising birthday gift- a beautiful, human named, Jimin. But Jungkook has no use for a personal slave, however, Jungkook has no choice but to keep him. The Two find friendship and love when they least expect it but can love between a vampire and a slave survive the lies, deceit, and betrayal that looms around every corner of the palace?

Kindred | On-going (2/?) | by:serendiplini

Summary:Jeon Jeongguk, heir of the illustrious Jeon Enterprises, is sent to a sleepy lakeside town to stake out a location for a new shopping mall. Unfortunately, his search quickly reaches a dead end—literally—when he learns the previous owner of the property has passed away with an iron grip on the deed to the land. Luckily for him, it just so happens that his eccentric innkeeper Park Jimin has a way of communicating with the dead. For a price, of course.

Soul Mates | On-going *Abandoned?* (8/?) | by:SomewhereAnywhere

the heart of a siren | Completed (16/16) | by:namakemono

Summary:Beware of what you take from the sea. She is not a treasure to be plundered, but a dark, vast void that will swallow you up and think nothing of it.

Comment: What a damn wonderful fic. The merman!JM fic I've always wanted to read. Loved the writing, the plot and how each character was portrayed.

Blood, Love & Tears | On-going *Abandoned?* (9/?) | by:Iamconfusion

Summary:You would think Jimin's life is like any other broke, 23 years old university student.

He has the craziest bestfriends.

He works a waitersjob at a highclass club.

He caught the interest of Jeon Jungkook.

Maybe it’s not so ordinary afterall.

This is Another Jikook Mafia au.

Comment: I hate that the writer seems to have abandoned this but good lord this fic is HOT.

The Lost Kingdom of Crows | On-going (7/10) | by:Priska

Summary:Jimin, who belongs to the widely spread kingdom of swans, falls in love with the youngest heir of a small noble family despite knowing they can never be. Jungkook, the youngest and wildest Prince of the crows, doesn't care about rules and restrictions. Wars and politics. He wants Jimin anyway. He wants him, even if it results in a curse that'll follow them through time and into a different reality.

Comment: Cute fic.

Life As a Beta | On-going (4/?) | by:lapetitemortjm

Summary:“Who wanted to present as a Beta?” Park Jimin had shit for luck when his unrequited love happened to be Jeon Jeongguk, an Alpha.

Dark Paradise | Completed (13/13) | by:makimonojjk

Summary:Park Jimin has life sorted. He does. He has a good job, a lovely wife and two beautiful kids. When he starts working at one of the most dangerous prisons in Seoul, he begins to question many of his life choices. When a certain inmate, Jeon Jeongguk, gets into his head and makes him rethink his whole life he knows he's in big trouble.

Comment: I enjoyed this fic sm. I loved the unique setting and ohhh myy JM is so hot in this one.

Arrangement Null And Void | Completed (15/15) | by:Holymotherofduck

Summary:Jungkook is the prince of the north. Dutiful to his position and passionate about his kingdom. When his parents announce they have found him a partner he is not surprised it is a member of the south kingdom. They had spoken for years on a union between the two sides of their country. What he does not expect is for that person to be a prince, in the same position he is and with the same passion. Prince Park Jimin. Unfortunately their views differ greatly and Jungkook has little respect for the south's soft approach, but Jimin is a prince just like him and will not stand by and let him have his way.

Comment: Nice plot progression.

Nemesis: Love | Completed (18/18) | by:AttilaTheHun

Summary:Park Jimin works hard, and everyone knows it. His boss likes him, his coworkers adore him, and he knows it's just a matter of time until he graduates from the ranks of the desk farm and into something better. All he has to do is conquer every single feeling of inadequacy he's ever had. Simple enough. Job-stealing newcomer Jeon Jeongguk doesn't seem to work for much of anything at all, and he's more than arrogant enough for them both. But he's certainly well-connected, tall and rich and good at everything. Jimin hates him on sight, and by the end of the first week he's sure they're eternal enemies. And sure, Jeongguk may be cute, even hot underneath his suits, but Jimin doesn't care about that. Not at all.

Comment: They say this is the must-read office!KM fic.

The Scent of Lemons | Completed (1/1) | by:Portent

Summary:There's Jimin, a dog, a duck and a tree. There's Jungkook, a little prejudiced, a little clueless and a whole lot gorgeous. Then there's this thing called love. Sometimes it hits like a truck and sometimes it blows like a gentle breeze.

Comment: The writing is awesome! This fic is too cute for words and literally JM is so cute here with his lil pets :D

a dose of salt | On-going (9/10) | by:Daisyjjang

Summary:Park Jimin is a renown cardiothoracic surgeon—a genius, a medical prodigy, the best surgeon at the hospital. He’s kind, friendly, handsome, and patient. He’s also the son of the hospital’s Chairman. But nobody needs to know that since he’s worked for and earned everything he’s accomplished on his own without the help of nepotism. Everyone loves him. Everyone but Jeon Jungkook, the hot new military trauma surgeon straight out of the army. The decorated veteran is brilliant and quick witted, but has a hot temper and absolutely zero tolerance for bullshit. When Park Jimin makes a bad first impression on him, things get extremely salty between the two very different personalities.

Comment: From one of my fave twitter AU writers, she never disappoints. The medical!KM fic y'all should read. Don't be bothered by the remaining chapter, I think it's only an epilogue to the story anyway.

Okay, this is it for now! I'll create part 2 in a while. Let me know if you loved any of these! Enjoyyy! Thanks!!

#jikook #kookmin #jikook fic rec #kookmin fic rec #bts ships #bts fic rec #my fic rec #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction

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lunalovvvess · 5 years

Text

thanks for the drink, but i like the bartender better

A/N: I know that I have like 3 WIPs but, uh, here you go! Let me know if y’all want more!

Warnings: swearing

Summary: Diego has realized recently that being a vigilante doesn’t leave him with much spending money. And that good knives were not cheap. So, when Al mentioned that a friend of his was hiring a bartender, he took the offer. How Al knew the owner of the trendiest club in town, Diego will never know. But, of the (few) jobs that he had, it was all right.

•••

There were multiple facts about the situation you were in that you did not like.

1. Your friend had abandoned you for some dick on your supposed “girls night”

2. She had promised to let you crash at her place since it was within walking distance

3. That was obviously not happening

You scoff into your drink, staring into the last of it and mentally preparing yourself for the walk to the subway. A glass is set down in front of you, and you glance up in confusion.

The bartender, a peppy blonde, smiles at you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t order this.”

She giggles, swishing her ponytail. You’re not amused.

“I know! Your friend sent it over! She told me to tell you that she’s suuuuuper sorry and that she’ll make it up to you!”

You raise your eyebrow, and glance at the drink.

“Is it strong?”

The bartender gasps dramatically.

“Of course!”

Yeah, you couldn’t do this.

You grab the glass, and stand.

“Thanks.”

Making your way over the bar on the other side of the club, you slide into a stool at the end. Hoping to nurse your drink (and your grudge) in peace, you quickly glance around to make sure nobody you knew was nearby.

Your heart stops when you spot the bartender.

He was hot.

Tall, dark, handsome, with biceps that look like they’d feel so nice wrapped your thighs. Fuck.

You quickly look down back at your drink before he realizes you were staring. But, damn. You’ve never felt this attracted to a person before. Taking a sip of your drink, you try to calm your racing heart (and thoughts).

Five minutes of watching the condensation drip down your glass is all the peace you get before another drink is set down in front of you.

Looking up, you see him staring down at you. Before you can open your mouth, he speaks gruffly (and doesn’t your gut clench at that).

“That man over there bought you this drink.”

Glancing around him, you see the man in question. The guy seemed nice enough, but not what you wanted.

“Tell him I said thanks, but no thanks.”

You gently slide the drink back to his side of the bar.

The bartender raises one scarred (hoooo boy) eyebrow in response, but takes the drink back. A quick glance at his (broad, defined) chest shows a name tag.

Diego.

You go back to your drink, but Diego is back a minute later. This time, the drink in his hand is fluorescent pink, and when you look up at him questioningly, he just gestures to another man across the bar.

You smile politely, but shake your head.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re wondering what the hell is in the water because people will not stop buying you drinks. Which is all fine and dandy when you don’t have to hike your ass to the subway to get home.

It has to be the eighth time of Diego coming over with a glass of whatever in his hand when you finally snap.

“The next time someone tries to buy me a drink, please just tell them, point blank, I’m not interested. Tell them I’m a time traveling witch, that I eat human remains, that I believe psychic dolphins live in the sewers, I don’t care. Just get them to stop.”

Diego stops in front of you, and for the first time, smiles. Oh, and your heart melts.

“I think this is the first time that I’ve ever seen someone get mad over getting free drinks.”

You blush, twisting a napkin between your fingers.

“I’m not really in the mood tonight. If I had been this situation 45 minutes ago, it would be a different story.”

“Because that was before your friend left you, right?”

You glance up at him in shock, but he jerks his head in the direction of the bar you left.

“Cherry isn’t exactly quiet.”

Scowling, you throw back the rest of your drink.

“Yeah, to answer your question, it is because my friend left me. And now I have to walk my sorry ass to the subway.”

Diego takes the empty glass from your hand, fingertips brushing yours and sending shivers down your spine.

“I guess it’s smart that you didn’t take those drinks then.”

You nod mutely, the ability to speak stolen with that brief touch. He walks away to serve someone else, and you decide it’s time to call it a night.

If your (traitor) friend was here, she would have urged you to leave your number. But, it feels wrong to hit on someone while they’re working, so you settle for leaving him a decent tip.

Levering yourself off the barstool, you catch his eye as you set the bills down. Diego tilts his head in acknowledgment, and you start to head towards the door.

•••

You make it about 5 feet from the bar when an someone taps you on the shoulder. Turning, you see the first guy that bought you a drink. He smiles at you.

You don’t like it.

“Can I help you?”

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Hey, I’m Tim. I bought you a drink earlier.”

You nod impatiently.

“Yeah, I didn’t take it. Like you didn’t take the hint.”

Holding his hands up defensively, he backs up.

“No, I definitely got the hint. It’s just I’m here with my coworkers, and they’re dicks and keep roasting me-“

You interrupt his sob story.

“You want me to laugh and give you a fake number?”

He nods eagerly.

“That would be great! Here, I have a pen!”

Before you can reach for the pen, an arm is slung around your waist.

“Is he bothering you babe?”

Oh.

There’s only one voice that can make your insides clench like that.

You look up to see Diego frowning at Tim, who immediately retreats even further.

“Uh, never mind!”

Some part of you senses that he scurried away, but most of your thoughts are focused on how Diego feels against you.

Diego, who is currently steering you towards the exit, arm still firmly wrapped around you.

“Hey, wait, thanks for the rescue but aren’t you on the clock?”

He shakes his head, and when you’re outside he finally answers you.

“I was covering for someone who was late, and they came in right when that asshole came up to you.”

Diego unwinds his arm from you, and you mourn the loss of it. It’s cold.

“Tim was more of a coward than an asshole.”

Leaning against the brick, Diego watches you with dark eyes.

“Tim?”

You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering.

“Yeah, said the people he was with kept roasting him after I didn’t take that drink.”

“Because you weren’t in the mood.”

Taking a deep breath, you look him in the eyes.

“Because I like the bartender better.”

Tense silence fills the air, and you turn on your heel. Walking quickly towards the subway station, you berate yourself in your head.

A hand grabs your arm, and you’re having déjà vu as you turn.

“You can’t just run away after saying something like that.”

Diego’s expression is unreadable, and you quickly look at the ground.

“I wasn’t running, I was walking. Quickly.”

“Well next time, don’t walk away quickly before you get your answer.”

You look up at him through your lashes. Had he gotten closer?

“My answer?”

He nods, and looks away from you.

“Yeah. Do you, uh, wannagooutsometime?”

You stare at him blankly.

“Come again?”

Diego sighs, and meets your eyes.

“You wanna go get food? Right now? There’s a diner nearby.”

You frown, tilting your head.

“This isn’t a pity thing, is it?”

He huffs, and you can see his shoulders rise defensively.

“No. I’m tryna ask you on a date!”

“Oh.”

You blink in surprise.

“Really?”

Rolling his eyes, Diego shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, really. What do ya say?”

(Well, what do you say?)

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves/reader #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves/you #diego hargreeves x you #diego hargreeves self-insert #diego hargreeves reader insert #diego hargreeves fic #diego hargreeves oneshot #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fic #diego hargreeves fanfic #tua diego/reader #tua diego x reader #diego hargreeves blurb

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nsokolow · 4 years

Text

Talladega Nights: Mystery Beyond the Track-Ch. 2

Julie’s Simpsons alarm clock woke her up right when it was supposed to. Remembering she got the job, she immediately perked up as she slammed down the “off” button on the clock. Having slept in her clothes, she pulled her duffel bag out from under her fold-out bed, took a look at the few clothes she had with her, pulled out a Hello Kitty shirt, and considered wearing it. She however remembered she was going to be wearing a uniform at her new job, so she decided to wear what she had on and drove over to NASCAR.

As Julie pulled into the parking lot in her teal-colored Toyota, she took a deep breath. A new chapter of her life was beginning. She had heard of NASCAR here and there throughout her life, but never before had she imagined working for them. She was super proud to be working for a famous company that involved car races.

Julie walked inside a building and to the ticket booth. Understandably, nobody was in the booth. She turned to her left to see Jesse Andrews walking towards her with a small smile.

“Hey, Julie. Thanks for coming on time,” said Jesse.

“You’re welcome!”

Confused by Julie’s enthusiasm, Jesse shrugged off the feeling and continued talking. “So, I’ll walk you down to the women’s bathroom, which is next to where your uniform is, and then after you change, I’ll show you which garage you’ll clean first before you move outside…unless the other janitors already finished cleaning outside.”

“Yay! Thanks man!” Julie lifted up her hand for a high five…that she didn’t get. Dang it! Just like the attempted fist-bump!

Julie was led to the bathroom and she changed into her uniform, which consisted of a light blue, short-sleeved button-down shirt and dark blue slacks. She then left her clothes on the tool table and continued to follow Jesse towards the garage she was to clean.

When they arrived at said garage, Julie saw Ricky Bobby’s pit crew were right there examining the car, looking as if they were about to fix Ricky’s car. They were now out of their uniforms, though she recognized them right away. Jesse grabbed a broom that was rested on the wall, handed it to Julie, then walked out of the garage.

Julie looked back at him, shrugged her shoulders, then began sweeping the floor while she watched the pit crew talk about the car.

“I can’t believe this happened right when Ricky returned.” The crew chief, a tall, bald, dark-skinned man shook his head as he lifted up the bent up hood of the car. He looked at the damaged engine.

A balding man, who was shorter and had lighter skin and small eyes, put his hand on the top of the car and stared at it. “It might be totaled. The engine’ll make it, but I don’t know what to make of the rest of the car.

Another man, who had a more fit build and almond shaped eyes, looked at the back of the car. “The back isn’t much better, either. I can’t believe this!”

The one with the last name, “Muncie,” a slender man with straight light brown hair and blue eyes, and the only one whose last name she remembered, smiled. “Don’t worry! As long as we have friendship, heart, and teamwork, we’ll make it through this!”

“Or how about we give you a good beating to get us warmed up,” replied Almond-Shaped Eyes.

Julie felt really bad for Muncie.

“Friendship, heart, and teamwork helped me through a lot of things!” Julie said with a smile. She was a little angry as well, but she didn’t show it.

The pit crew turned around and looked at her. Crew Chief, Small Eyes, and Almond-Shaped Eyes looked back at Julie with confused expressions, while Muncie smiled in appreciation of the remark.

“Are you new here, Miss?” asked Crew Chief.

“Yeah! Today’s my first day! I’m Julie! Who are you?” Julie smiled pleasantly.

Crew Chief sighed. “I’m Lucius. I’m Ricky Bobby’s crew chief. Nice to meet you, Julie.”

“I’m Hershel.” Small Eyes said with a mild smile.

“I’m Kyle.” Almond-Shaped Eyes said with a straight expression.

“I’m Glenn! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Muncie smiled as he extended his hand.

Julie’s pulse quickened as she looked into his eyes and shook his hand. “Hi! You too!”

“Boys, we’re gonna need to get a new hood.” Lucius announced.

“Oh, for sure!” Hershel said as he and Kyle turned back to the car.

Glenn smiled and waved at Julie before he turned around. Julie continued to sweep with more pep in her step.

“Okay, it’s time for your hour lunch break, Julie.”

Julie, who had been picking up trash with a four foot long trash picker and putting it in a tilt truck, turned around to see Jesse.

“Wait, what time is it?” Julie asked, surprised.

“Noon.”

“Really?”

Jesse nodded.

Julie spoke again as Jesse turned and walked away, “By the way, we never really talked about how long my shifts are and how many days a week I’ll be working. Not trying to tell you how to do your job…just…it would be nice to know, hehe.”

Jesse stopped and turned around. He thoughtfully turned his eyes upward as he mumbled numbers and moved his fingers. “We don’t have another race until next week, but Ricky and Jean’s cars are going to be worked on until then, our only janitors are currently you, me, and another guy, so how about you show up for the next two days from eight a.m. to two p.m.. I did schedule you from eight a.m. to two p.m. today. Sorry; I should’ve told you sooner.”

“It’s okay…I’m just happy I have a job.” Julie smiled pleasantly.

Julie ordered French fries from a Burger King. She then drove back to the Talladega Superspeedway, approached the empty bleachers, sat at the second-to-front row, said grace, then ate her fries.

“You went to Burger King?” a familiar man’s voice asked.

Julie turned to her right and saw Glenn standing to her right at the sides of the bleachers. He was holding a paper bag with his name written on it, the colors of the letters alternating from blue to green.

“Oh, yeah!” replied Julie, “It’s my favorite fast food place! You want a French fry?”

“Oh, no thank you! I went to Burger King earlier, and I already have French fries to go with my cheeseburger and Gatorade. What else did you order?”

“Oh, just fries.” Julie said casually before she bit into another French fry.

“That’s it?” Glenn’s face dropped into a concerned look. “Why?”

“Oh, I’m just trying to save money. I’ve been unemployed for a long time, and I’ve been trying to conserve money, and my last job didn’t pay too well—“

“—Do you want to have half of my cheeseburger?” Glenn got up onto the bleachers and walked over to Julie.

Stunned at Glenn’s offer, Julie didn’t know what to say for a few seconds.

“Really? Thanks!” Julie said as she took the half of Glenn’s burger he tore off and handed to her.

“So, uh, what brings you to Talladega?” Glenn asked a bit shyly as he sat next to Julie.

“Well, I just moved to North Carolina, and I wanted to get involved with the new place I live in, and I found out online that there were some janitorial and mechanic positions open for NASCAR, so I sprung for the race to have fun and ask for a job.”

“Really? Nice! How come you didn’t apply for a mechanic job?” Glenn asked, still not having eaten one bite of his lunch yet.

“Well, one of the security guards said that being a NASCAR mechanic is a tough business to break into, and that it’s a boys’ club.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. I don’t think there’s ever been a female pit crew member before.”

“Well, I don’t mind being a janitor!” Julie bit into her cheeseburger. “It’s kind of relaxing.”

Glenn started. “Oh! I forgot to say grace!”

“Dear Jesus…” Glenn began as he folded his hands and closed his eyes. “…thank you for this food, please bless this food, and thank you for Burger King. Thank you for Lucius, Kyle, Hershel, Ricky, and Julie. Amen.”

Julie blushed at herself being named in the prayer. “Amen. So, you pray before meals, too?”

“Of course! There’s a lot of Christians in the South.”

“I heard about that; I didn’t know a lot of other Christians where I’m from, which is Southern California.”

Glenn gasped dramatically. “Do you know any actors or singers? Did you grow up with any?”

“Well…a friend took me to an Avril Lavigne concert, and she high-fived me when she ran across the stage and high-fived the front-row people. I didn’t wash that hand for a week, and that almost got me fired from a grocery store I used to work at because I was blamed for a coworker getting the flu. Turned out it was expired meat she bought from the store. My boss was sued and the store closed down.”

“Wow! That’s amazing! Not that you got fired, but Avril Lavigne! She’s cool! Like her song goes, why do people have to make things so complicated?”

“You’re pretty insightful!” Julie said as she took the last bite of her cheeseburger.

“Thanks! Lucius says I’m like a creepy little greeting card.” Glenn smiled, not at all insulted at what Lucius said. “The only creepy thing I ever did was stalk an ex-girlfriend.”

Julie burst out laughing. “You were a stalker? Did you like, cut her hair in her sleep and smell it every night before bed?”

Glenn chuckled. “Well, I would watch her from my car when she was at work or at her house. When I accidentally missed a day of work when I stalked her, I realized I needed help. I got therapy, and I learned the reason why I was holding onto her so much was because she was my first girlfriend, and I thought we would be together forever because I thought life was like Disney movies. I haven’t stalked her in months, and I don’t have feelings for her anymore. Besides, she turned out to be a Nazi sympathizer. I guess I should’ve noticed something was wrong, because when she and her friends waved at each other, it looked pretty stiff, and people would glare at us.

“Sheesh! Didn’t one of the janitors get fired for being a skinhead? I read that online.”

“Yeah, he and my ex-girlfriend are dating now.”

“Wow!” Julie grabbed a few fries and took a bite.

“So, what brings you to North Carolina?” asked Glenn before he took a drink of Gatorade.

A surge of panic painfully hit Julie. “Uh, I…needed to get away.”

“Oh! So you needed a change of pace?”

Julie grinned nervously. “That’s one way to put it.”

After a minute of Julie and Glenn eating in silence, Julie ate her last French fry.

“When do you get off work?” asked Julie.

“Well, me and the rest of the pit crew weren’t scheduled to be here today, but I’m planning on leaving around four. What about you?”

“I get off work at two. When we’re both off work, I was thinking…you know this skate park that’s a few minutes away from here?”

“Yeah! Klakston Park!”

“I was thinking…if you have a skateboard or bike or something…do you maybe wanna meet there after work? I’d bring my skateboard…”

“Really? Sure!” Glenn replied with an enthusiastic smile. “Four-fifteen?”

“Okay!”

“Glenn!” Hershel appeared in front of them. “You gotta check this out man! There was less damage than we thought!”

“Okay! I’m coming!” Glenn got up and followed Hershel. He turned back to Julie and waved. “Bye, Julie! See you at four-fifteen!”

“See you, Glenn!” Julie waved back.

“Well, well, well! You and the janitor seem to be getting along very nicely!” Hershel remarked as soon as they were out of Julie’s vicinity.

Glenn chuckled softly and looked down.

“Guess what? Our sweet little Glenn here is a stud! He already has a date with the new janitor!” Hershel announced as soon as they entered the garage.

A little embarrassed, Glenn grinned and turned to the side.

There was a collective, “Ah!” from the rest of the pit crew members…except Lucius, who pleasantly smiled, looked down, and shook his head.

“She’s very nice; she just moved here from California.” Glenn piped up.

Hershel perked up. “Does she know any movie stars or singers?”

Glenn was thrilled to be asked questions about her. “Well, no, but she saw Avril—“

“—Why’d she move from California?” asked Kyle.

“Well, she said she needed to get away, and when I asked if she needed a change of pace, she said that was one way to put it. She’s like a shooting star, daring to burst away from where she used to be and zooming off to the new adventure that is NASCAR!”

A long silence ensued.

“Glenn,” Lucius said, “Did she get any more specific about why she moved here?”

“Well, no, but—“

“Be careful, Glenn. You don’t know this girl too well yet.”

#talladega nights the ballad of ricky bobby #fanfiction #oc #jack mcbrayer #michael clarke duncan #david koechner #ian roberts #glenn #kyle #lucius #hershel #nascar

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howtolistentomusic · 4 years

Photo

There's a radio sitting atop a pile of boxes. I grab it and hand it over to Carlos. He sets the device on the edge of the container and pushes the power button. We're greeted with a burst of static. He fiddles with the tuner until he stumbles upon "Wicked" by Future.

"Aw yeah!" he says as he turns the volume way up. "Some real music! Anthony, take notes!"

"I'm insulted by the implication that I don't listen to hip-hop."

"You bump 2Pac between Justin Bieber songs?" David says.

"Hell yeah I do!"

"Guacha!" David says.

Pronounced as if a stressed "ah" sound is added at the end of the English word watch, guacha is a Spanish verb for "look." Informally, though, it means something more like I approve! It's typically complimentary though it often carries a connotation of surprise that can come off as condescending. Against all odds, David basically said to me, I'm impressed. Welcome to the big boys club.

"2Pac is the greatest rapper of all time," Carlos says.

"Well, I don't know about that."

Don't get me wrong. I genuinely do like 2Pac. I grew up in Southern California, after all. But the GOAT? There's no way. He's a compelling figure for many reasons but too many others can rap circles around him.

"Listen to All Eyez On Me," Carlos says.

"Illmatic is better."

"What the fuck is that?"

It's the classic and hugely influential debut album by Nas, in case you're rooming with Carlos and Patrick Star.

"Life's a bitch and then you die!" Ruben sings.

"That's why we get high! 'Cause you never know when you're gonna go!"

"Damn, Ant!" David says. "Who would have thought?"

It's unclear whether he recognizes "Life's a Bitch", Illmatic's track three stunner, or if he's simply surprised that I made a weed reference.

"What else are you bumping?" David asks.

"Wu-Tang. Souls of Mischief. Big L—"

"The Based God?" Carlos says. "He fucking sucks!"

"That's Lil B, dumbass."

Dude doesn't know Big L from Lil B and he's never heard Illmatic. And yet here he is, trying to lecture me about hip-hop. Get the fuck out of here.

"Whatever. You're fucking old," Carlos says.

Touché. But I'm trying to keep up. I'm certainly on the Playboi Carti and Lil Uzi Vert bandwagons. "wokeuplikethis*" and "XO Tour Lif3" are great. I have a hard time understanding the appeal of Migos though.

Carlos grabs some bags from the edge of the container. When he turns to dump them into the proper gaylords, I glance at the radio. It's beckoning like a glowing pickup in a video game. I can't resist. Being cool is overrated anyways.

I tune to Live 105.5. "Good For You" by Selena Gomez is playing.

"Hell yes!" I say.

My coworkers laugh.

"Of course you would listen to this bullshit!" Carlos says.

Bullshit? Ok, I get it. So it's totally cool to want to fuck Selena Gomez. It's totally cool to mime and graphically detail the sexual acts you'd perform on her if given the chance, as a few of the guys did a while back when a Spring Breakers DVD came through the warehouse. Respecting the art she creates, though? Nah. Too much.

"Wanna show you how proud I am to be yours," I sing. "Leave this dress a mess on the floor!"

Two yeas ago one of my favorite music writers, Katherine St. Asaph, wrote some brilliant work inspired by "Good for You". Her Singles Jukebox blurb, in which she rates the song a 9 out of 10, is a masterpiece. And in a review of Revival for Time Magazine, she vividly wrote that the song "makes looking good for her man sound like searing a part of herself dead." Despite such a convincing case for the song's merits, however, I can't bring myself to like "Good For You" all that much. It's boring and rote and I totally prefer "Hands to Myself". In a place like this, though, I'll fucking take it. After all, remaining myself while simultaneously playing "dude" well enough to avoid ostracization by my coworkers is a balance I struggle with every time I step foot into this warehouse, so it feels really good to fill the room with a piece of my world for once while these fuckers are forced to deal with it.

"I just wanna look good for ya, good for ya," I sing. "Uh huh."

"Alright," Carlos says as the song winds down. "It's over."

He tunes the radio back to hip-hop just as Anna screams "Break!"

"Fuck," Carlos says as he turns off the device. ***

As usual, I beat the entire crew back to the dock. I hop into the container, turn on the radio and adjust the station.

"Reck a less bee hayve YA ah!" the radio pronounces.

Zayn Malick! Totally over One Direction, rhyming.

"Turn that shit up!" Donald says as the guys finally find their way back to roll-off. "This is my jam!"

"Let's start a boy band, Donald!" I say.

"I'm down!"

David laughs. Carlos shakes his head.

"I'm seeing the pain, seeing the pleasure," Donald sings. He's not kidding; he genuinely seems to like this song. "Nobody but you, 'body but me, 'body but us, bodies together!"

While I'm thrilled to have a temporary companion in poptimism, I must point out that this song sucks. I wish I could play "Little Black Dress" instead. I wonder what the guys would think of that particular track, which pits a traditional dude's reverence for classic rock against his hatred of boy bands.

"That's your last one," Carlos says as "Pillowtalk" gives way to a commercial.

He tunes back to the hip-hop station. "Hold On, We're Going Home" is playing and I have to stifle a laugh. Be careful what you wish for, I think to myself.

Carlos can't stand Drake. He's told me as much. He's a fucking pussy were his exact words. Of course, he'd be loath to admit that now, when control of the radio is at stake. I decide to stoke the fire.

"'Cause you're a good girl and you know it!'" I sing.

"Why do you like literally the worst shit?" Carlos says.

"I can change the station if you prefer," I say as I reach for the radio.

"Leave it!" he says.

"Yes, daddy!"

As soon as he turns his back, I tune back to pop. Mass groaning ensues as Shawn Mendes goes on about stitches. Carlos, however, is silent. He's standing still as a statue, staring me down.

***

If the warehouse gave out game balls at the end of each shift, Carlos would have more than the rest of roll-off combined. This is despite the fact that the dude is hardly physically intimidating. Indeed, the contrast between his tough guy persona and his tiny 5"2' frame is a gift that keeps on giving. One time, in an exercise designed to lighten the mood after a slog of a safety meeting, management made the entire staff of the warehouse line up on the floor of the line, single-file, tallest on the right and shortest on the left. There were approximately 30 people in the building and only a single woman was standing to the left of Carlos. It took the roll-off team hours to get all the laughter out of our system.

Carlos isn't particularly funny or clever either. While his insults come fast and furiously, they tend to be the predictable nonsense you would expect from someone that still considers "gay" a burn in the year of our Lord 2017. It's the same sort of mockery I've been dealing with my whole life. The words themselves don't really bother me.

But Carlos will wear you down through sheer attrition. His short fuse, gangbanger ethics and the fact that he values his pride over his job give him a willingness to escalate that's difficult to compete with. I once witnessed him empty an entire can of shaving cream onto the face of poor old man Kenneth. He also once swung a bag of hard toys, with all his might, at Donald after the two got into a heated argument. Then there was the time he was in a bad mood and discreetly coated some furniture with that aerosol "snow" stuff—the kind that people use on their windows as a Christmas decoration—in the hopes that some naive rube would ruin their clothes.

So I'm not sure what Naive Rube was thinking in perpetuating this tug-of-war over a stupid radio. Perhaps I felt like I deserved a fucking break. Roll-off already has a radio, after all. Sure, Anna controls the station. But everyone seems fine enough, usually, with the soul and R&B she prefers.

In any case, I'm not in the mood for Carlos' shit today.

***

I place a box of books at the edge of the container, right in front of Carlos.

"Are you just gong to stand there?" I ask.

"Give back the radio, you fucking pussy!" Carlos says. "Nobody wants to hear this pop shit!"

I know, dumbass. That's why this is so much fun.

"Give it back!" he repeats. He swipes for the radio but I grab it and place it out of his reach.

Carlos slices a bag of clothes with his pocketknife.

"I'm going to fuck you up!" he says. "Stupid little bitch! I'm going to fuck you up!"

"Cool story, bro."

"Are you really not gong to give it back?"

I laugh. Look, this entire thing is petty as fuck but the dude's entitlement really is something else.

"Give it back simply because you told me to? I'll pass but thanks."

"I'm going to give you one last chance," he says.

"Oh noes! Make sure you play some Justin Bieber at my funeral."

Carlos is fucking seething. He pulls the still-as-a-statue move again in an attempt to intimidate but roll-off simply functions around him. Nobody else seems to care much about the radio war and that's fine by me. When Carlos finally realizes that his protest isn't going to work, he grabs the box of books and gets back to business. Apollo for the win!

As an alternative kid with a preference for dark clothing and bulky accessories, the sun has long been the bane of my existence. This is especially true as I age, as one of the ways I temper insecurities about my ever-expanding waistline is by burying myself in layers. Today, however, the sun is an unlikely ally in my ongoing struggle against Carlos. It's 100 degrees out, see, and when it's this hot outside the container becomes almost unbearable, the metal walls stubbornly retaining the heat in a way that feels like you're working in a giant oven.

Pushing donations from inside the container is typically a two-person task but nobody else is up for it today. And the emptier it becomes, the safer I seem to be getting from Carlos' antagonism as I place the radio further and further from his reach. For a glorious hour I have the device all to myself. Ariana Grande! Lady Gaga! Hailee Steinfeld! Rihanna! I'm singing along, dancing like a maniac, and feeling pretty damn good. Then I hear a loud crash.

I turn around. Carlos is standing at the foot of the container, a crate of dishes in front of him.

I've seen this before. God forbid there's glass around when Carlos is angry because he'll start chucking it, his aim loose enough for probable deniability but accurate enough to make life hell.

He grabs a plate and throws it my way. It shatters near my feet.

"Calm the fuck down!" I say.

"Give me the radio."

"Come and get it.

Carlos hops into the container. Fuck. Here we go.

Of course, he's not grabbing anything without going through me first. It's too damn empty in here. I step towards him to obstruct his path. We meet in the middle of the container. Our faces are inches apart.

One, Mississippi. Two, Mississippi. Three, Mississippi. Four, Mississippi. Five, Mississippi. Six—

"Fuck this gay ass music," he finally says. Then he turns and walks away. *** A short time later we finish unloading the container. Two hours remain in the workshift but supervisor Stella tells us that we won't be getting more trucks until tomorrow. She assigns the guys to other tasks in the building while I stay behind on the dock to tidy up.

For good measure, I empty the batteries from the radio and throw them in a bin designated for hazardous materials. Then I smash the radio on the floor, throw the pieces in the electronics gaylord, then pull it inside the warehouse.

Give me my damn game ball.

#minwagepop

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cowboyjen68 · 5 years

Note

Hi Jen! I have been following you for a long time now and have never asked for advice, because once I get to typing I can’t seem to stop. But, I have been struggling with my sexuality my whole life, and now as I approach 25, I really want to be with a woman. Relationship, sexually, i do not care, I would like it all. I joined a lesbian FB group, but everyone seems to be way older than me. And gay clubs are just not my scene and usually everyone runs in packs, and I feel being drunk is not >>>

. [continued] a good reason to try and talk to someone just because I have the liquid courage (and lets be honest everyone is into each other when they’re sippin)…. I really am at a loss. I feel like a lot of young women expect me (a masculine woman) to hit on them, but I am really nervous, and when I have they might flirt super hard with me but then say they’re straight. I’m beginning to think this search for female companionship is very lonely. Why is it that gay men seem to have an abundant >[con.] sex life, but gay women.. don’t? I know this is a generalization. But still, when I go out to gay bars and it’s mainly men, they all have someone or find someone. “Lesbian night” always seems more intimidating to me, and nobody approaches me like a gay man would approach another. This dynamic is frustrating to me. Why does it seem like the lesbian community suffers a little more than the men? Why does it seem gay men have more casual sex with each other? I hope this isn’t offensive

Let me start at the bottom. Your observation about gay men is not inaccuate and certainly males have much more community support and even cultural support to “sleep around”. They are taught that sex is important and love and committment is the butt of jokes. The stuff that “pussy whipped” men do… even if they are gay, they absorb this toxicity. Also.. sadly.. gay boys as they come to realize they are thought of as sexual beings above all else in our society begin to fulfill that prophecy. They are told they are dirty, bad, disgusting so often times they internalize that and it becomes “damn if I do, damn if I don’t, so damn it I WILL”. Lesbians fall victim to the same bullshit.. being told we are dirty or wrong and we often react by dating men “giving it a try”. Or “finding a nice boy”. So it is just a difference in the way we are conditioned as male and females as to how we handle the misogyny lathered on us.

Meeting women is as a lesbian is a problem as old as humans. ( I can’t prove this but I am really really sure it is a fact). In my younger days, bars were it. That was the “gay space”. Our only real choice to be able to approach a woman and be pretty sure they also liked women. BUT as times have changed gay bars are filled with straight people. The local bar in my town has drag almost every night so it fills with bridal showers, straight couples and regulars. Those poeple help keep the doors open… I get it.. but it is no longer a space I want to be in very often.. Maybe once every two years if that. I also understand not wanted to be drunk when meeting a potiential mate or even a friend. It clouds personalities and judgements. I prefer to be with my friends for a drunken night out. They already know I am an idiot.

You of course crave sex and intimacy and the companionship of a woman. That is your natural state and very healthy to want that. Let me start by saying.. TAKE YOUR TIME> Be honest with you. IF you meet someone they don’t HAVE to be the one. You can enjoy dates, making out even sex without a lifetime committment. You need to explore a bit so you know what you like. Be aware that sex with a woman with whom you have chemistry feels very much like love.. it is probably not. Chemistry is wonderful and important but can also be a part of a Friend with Benefit arrangement or a temporary fun dating situation. Be honest with youself and with her. Talk often about emotions and what you want.

Some tips to meeting women.

1. Volunteer when lesbians do. Animal shelters, or rescues. Horse therapy barns. LGBT events. Habitat for Humanity “women built” weekends.

2. Find the nearest women’s festial and get you butt there. I know I push this a lot… but imagine 500 to 2000 women, mostly lesbians there specifically to see each other.. to be around each other.

3. Look for women authors, comedians or musicians coming to smaller venues. .Check out what is going on in your town that is not mainstream.

4. Attend charity events for any number of non profits: women’s shelters, animal rescue (including wildlife), nature centers, hiking and trail up keep, LGBT events, Food bank fundraisers etc.

WIth anyone of these. make it a plan to meet at least one person. be honest, you are seeking LGBT friends/ Community.. You might even make some straight friends. but straight people have lesbian friends, cousins and coworkers.

Approaching women: Since I came out in 1993/4 and even before that as I was in gay bars (you know.. for the music) as early as 1987 I noticed the trend of butch women being expected to approach women. YET I also observed many butch women standing in a corner trying VERY hard to look unapproachable. What a paradox of actions.

We get mixed signals. Be the strong, quiet type, don’t smile, look tough, aloof, uninterested. Puff up, walk like you own the place and ignore those attempting eye contact.. IE “make them work for it”. BUT ALSO.. butches are the “guy” right? We buy the lady a drink, we ask her to dance, we invite ourselves into her space. We boldy say things like “Dance with me”.

What the ever loving fuck? NO wonder we can’t meet each other. We have two approached fed to us but the world and neither on has any track record of working well or at all.

My advice... smile, make eye contact and say “hi”.. Basically do what it is you want to do..which is speak to an attractive woman. You being the more masculine of the two does not matter. You are human and seeking connections.. she is human and likely seeking connections. We have words and social cues for a reason.. to connect. As humans, women and lesbians we over think. Don’t. SImplify it to these two line of thoughts:

1. you say “hi” and she is not interested..she will so “no” or “no thank you” or ignore you. YOU have lost nothing. You weren’t talking to her, you still aren’t so you are just fine. Remember, it is not “you” she is rejecting. She might be married, tired, not interested, out with friends, or just a jerk.

2. you say “hi” and she says it back. You can ask to sit next to her. Tell her you think she is pretty and want to talk to her. Compliment her shirt or hair style and ask if she minds company. You can Tell her you are tired of not talking to woman and she seems nice so you stepped out of your comfort zone to speak to her (this last one with brutal honesty has a track record of success). At the end of the night, you might have a date, you might have a friend, you might have just had a nice talk with a nice woman. Either way. you either have gained something (date or friend) or LOST nothing but a little time.

Stop running “worst case scenerios” in your head. She will not toss a beer at you, laugh at you, call you ugly nor turn to her friends and make fun of you. AND If she does.. aren’t you glad she didn’t say “yes” to a date.

As far as social media look in to more specific lesbians groups. Maybe look at hiking, biking, history.. etc.. narrow it down from just “lesbians”or dating sights. Bi woman are also out there and have sites open to th

em. Find lesbians or bi women with similar interests and you might find some closer to your age. Ask the older women on the Facebook pages about other connections. Maybe there are in other groups or clubs where they see young women asking about finding each other. Us old schoolers know how to network..let them help you.

I hope some of this helps. Let me know how it is going and if you learn something i forgot, please share it with me.

#dating #lesbians

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migleefulmoments · 5 years

Text

Time for some CC Self Reflection

If you haven’t read the comment posted by ajw I refer you to her blog. She answered an ask which hit on the most common criticisms we have made about their fandom- they are misogynists, they fetishize gay men and gay relationships, they don't actually like the choices Darren makes about himself and his career but at the same time they infantilize him and turn him into a victim, The anon also called them out for NOT being true allies and that Darren and Chris aren’t sending secret messages to the fandom.

Ajw responded with her usual lack of any self reflection and repeating old arguments.

Let’s begin by saying that Darren and Mia are a couple. I have been hesitant to say that outright and always referred to things that Darren said because I have been clear that I do not know Darren but I have had it confirmed by someone who does have that kind of access to Darren’s life to know for sure that Darren’s truth is that Mia and Darren are in love, bundling a life together and are engaged. Proven fact.

Now let’s tackle the response: Is the CC fandom misogynists? Yes, of course. She lists a handful of women in her life who are living real lives as if that proves she doesn’t post misogynistic hatred toward a woman she has never met. Recognizing women in one’s life who have real-life struggles doesn’t prove you aren’t a misogynistic...it just proves you aren’t obtuse.

They are misogynists because their hatred of Mia is not based on a personal knowledge of Mia but rather a set of stereotypes and labels they have given her simply to fuel their hatred. They criticize the way she dresses, her personal hygiene, her work ethic, and her career choices based entirely on their own fantasies. They have decided that Mia -and only Mia - has no right to post anything on social media and when she very rarely does, that PROVES she is a fame whore and it provides more fuel for that hatred. THAT is the definition of misogyny.

She says:

I happen to HATE one women. But it is not because she is female. I would despise her no matter her gender, race, nationality, or sexuality.

When I look up the definition I get

mi·sog·y·ny/məˈsäjənē/noundislike of, contempt for, or ingrained prejudice against women."she felt she was struggling against thinly disguised misogyny"

The truth is that hating even one women based on stereotypes and ingrained prejudices against women is what makes it misogyny...not that Mia is a women.

Are they gay fetishists? Of course.

She explains that she loved Klaine, not because they are two men but because “they were great, real, believable characters and D&C bright so much beauty into that relationship it was impossible for me not to love them”. I have already said before that season 2 and 3 Klaine were all of those things but after season 3, Chris was OVER Klaine and there was NO chemistry. But besides all of that- Klaine is scripted TV. There were several scripts that were auctioned off by the Box Scene Project for charity and many of us have read them, everything was written by the writing staff. Nothing they said or did was up to Darren and Chris except for a few ad-libbed lines we heard about. Nothing else...the words they said, how they stood, moved, danced and sang with one another was all controlled by someone else. The kissing scenes were all highly scripted with cameras directly in their faces. There is nothing real happening on a scripted-TV show. Lea and Cory were actually in love and dating and nobody believes the Finchel scenes were actually Lea and Cory.

Ajw continues to adamantly deny that she confuses Klaine and CrissColfer when in fact it is a regular occurrence by both her and the fandom. Darren and Chris were coworkers and nothing more. Neither man has ever once hinted at being a couple. The fandom proclaims they are a great love and go on about what the two men do and yet there has never been even a hint of confirmation from Chris or Darren. The only proof the fandom has that Chris and Darren have acknowledged their great love is through their interoperation of Chris’s Instagram “likes”, Darren T-shirt graphics and a crap ton of fabricated theories.

The entire CC Fandom “ships” CrissColfer. For them to “know” CC is real would first require Darren or Chris to acknowledge with words or actions that they have a relationship before they can “know” it is true. Until that time its nothing but shipping. Of course neither man has ever so much as hinted. In fact Darren has said “I’m straight” for 9 years and has been with Mia since before Glee started. Both Chris and Darren have asked them to stop, have talked about fans who don’t understand reality from fantasy and called them the Kragen and crazies. Until Chris or Darren confirm with words that they are a couple, the CCers are “shipping” the two men.

They fetishize Darren as gay based entirely on his behavior they deem was “gay”. They call him “Daisy” when he “acts gay”, claim he goes to gay clubs to “stare at half-naked men”. They say he is gay because he wears pink, a “God save the Queers” Tshirt, or tiny shorts in a gay rights parade. He’s gay because he puts on a wig and lip syncs Mariah Carey. Their beliefs about male and female behaviors and dress are quite disgusting. They reduce every gay man who enters Darren’s life to a “role model” who will be “helping him come out”.

Darren has said he is straight for 9 years and yet they claim he is gay simply because of their fantasies. Darren has never even hinted he is anything but straight.

Are they talented men? Sure, but they aren’t “the most wonderful, caring intelligent creative and generous human beings”...they are STRANGERS. Complete strangers. You can’t know if someone is generous, wonderful, and caring if you don’t actually know that person. Darren is a person that a lot of people like and a lot of people comment on social media that he is super nice and down-to-earth. Those same people also say a lot of nice things about Mia and the CC fandom only cares about the first type of post. But Is he generous? I have no clue---he charges a shit load of money for Meet and Greats! Is Chris wonderful, generous and caring? We have no clue at all. We know Kurt, we don’t know Chris. All of these things that CCers believe about Chris and Darren are based entirely on Kurt and Blaine or their own fantasies.

And together, they are a shining example if a love that is rare. They have suffered so much and have been each other’s rock for EIGHT years. There aren’t many like them and I don’t understand why it is wrong to admire them because they happen to be two men. The way they love and respect each other is something we should all aspire to have.

Again, we have the fetishization of love. They have a love that is rare? They have never shared anything about themselves that suggest any kind of love. They have NO PUBLIC relationship.

Darren and Chris’s long-term suffering is entirely fabricated by the CC fandom. Darren has said “I’m straight”, “I love her very much” and talked about his wedding plans among other things. Chris said Will is his boyfriend when asked by a child at a TLOS event and dedicated a book to him. Suffering? Darren just won an Emmy, a Critic’s Choice and a Globe, his bar is hopping, his tour was a success...people who are suffering don’t have successful careers- especially one in which he must give on-camera interviews.

“They are each other’s rock for EIGHT years”? Again, we have never heard anything from either man to suggest they are even friends, let alone each other’s “rock”. They don’t have a love we should “aspire to”- that is all a fantasy. A100% fantasy. We really know nothing about anyone’s relationship except our own. It makes no sense to believe that two strangers who have no public relationship have a love we should all aspire to. How they cannot see this is entirely all their own fantasy, baffles me.

Respect each other? It seems pretty clear to me that Chris doesn’t want anything to do with Darren -at least publicly. We know that Chris had to be forced to do the wedding interview, we know they have no public relationship, we know that Chris has asked the CCers to stop believing they are together and has said that Glee isn’t a documentary. We know that Chris doesn’t like to be talked about. I have no inside scoop on how Chris feels but it is clear to me, that he is not interested in waking the Kragen and as long as he fears that, he will not have a public relationship with Darren.

Does she hate Darren? Yes...she really does. Darren is that slightly douchy, frat-bro dude they hate so much. Darren is the man who accepts the product endorsements they rage about. The man they love and adore is the fantasy gay man they fetishize. He is mostly season 2 Blaine with whatever fantasy they have created. They want Darren to be a gay victim and they will rescue him. The man they cheer, the man they like is all a fantasy.

They hate his choices and they blame everything they dislike on his team...a team that Darren hired and continues to believe in as evidence by this continued working with them. Contracts end and yet Darren has not changed his team in 9 years. Do they hate his family? Clearly, they “adore” his mother but they have claimed that Chuck is bad because he likes and supports Mia. They hate all of Darren’s non-gay friends (as long as they haven’t said anything supportive of Mia). The friends she likes- a handful of people she has decided are “good” based on whatever a CCer uses to determine good vs. evil- Max, Jon, Etai, Lena, the ACS cast, proving again that the CCers can’t tell the difference between coworkers and friends. I know that Darren says the ACS cast is family but I hear that from a lot of casts they are doing press, and I believe they feel that way, but life gets in the way and it changes who is in our life. I’ve felt that way about coworkers I hadn’t heard from in decades. Time moves on.

We keep coming back to the concept: Darren is a stranger and believing things that Darren has NEVER said or even hinted at crosses all sorts of boundaries. One thing that is abundantly clear is that Darren is loyal and his friends from college mean everything to him. Denigrating that relationship to suit one’s fantasy is disgusting. Nobody whose entire knowledge of Darren’s life is gleaned from social media has any right to comment on his personal relationships. Period.

Do Darren and Chris send them signs? She claims that they signs are for all of us but only the CCers actually take the time to listen. I can only LOLOLOLOL to this. As I have said before, the words that Darren and Chris say should be the only thing any of us are listening to. Their words are worthy of respect. believing they are sending convoluted signals hidden in social media while ignoring their words is fucked up.

We end with Hollywood and closeting queer actors. Once again, the CC fandom’s version of closeting is one they have fabricated to fit their needs. No gay celebrity that I know of has talked about a forced closeting. No one has claimed a studio used a morality clause to keep them in the closet. Agents and mangers have encouraged queer actors to stay in the closet but nobody is forcing them to stay in. The real “closeting” happens when queer actors are not hired for jobs. That is a systemic problem that has to do with stereotypes and personal beliefs and NOT something that will be solved quickly or easily. Closeting by a studio using a contract would be easier to change- a good lawsuit would end that kind of practice. But it isn’t that simple.

I almost feel stupid answering this because it is so clear that the CC fandom’s fantasy is behind all of their “truths”. They have created and entire fabricated story that is so out of touch with reality that it can only be called scary.

It’s late, I’m tired. Tomorrow I will proofread this and probably make it read better but I shall post it for now. Let me know if there are glaring typos.

#CrissColfer #chris colfer #Darren Criss #mia sweir #CC #CCer #CC fandom #CC blog #CC family #Its all made up #Time to self reflect

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thegoshdarnhero · 5 years

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1-140 pls ;)

3 Fears: Heights, disappointing the ones i love, and dying without making a impact

3 things I love: sincere affection,Music, you probably

2 turns on: Harmonics and good kissing

2 turns off: assumptions and closed mindedness

My best friend: been awhile sonce i’ve seen him but my buddy Logan

Sexual orientation: Pansexual

How tall am I: 6ft’3

What do I miss right now: hm, probably friends in far away places

Favourite color: black& Red

Do I have a crush: man I fall so easily, i’ve tried to get rid of the notion of “crushes” because it leads to aches

Favourite place: my room

What am I listening to right now: “The Muse” by The Wood Brothers

Shoe size: 13 wide

Eye color: hazel

Hair color: brown/black

Meaning behind my URL: it’s a play on my online handle “The God Damn Hero, TheGDHero)

Favourite song: depends on the mood

Favourite band: prob Protest The Hero but there are so many other ones up there

How I feel right now: Pretty okay, indifferent

Someone I love: i’d like to say myself, but can’t but i’m getting there

My current relationship status: Eternally single

My relationship with my parents: Much better than it used to be

Favourite season: Fall

Tattoos and piercing i have: 0

Tattoos and piercing i want: I want a few tats, one being my family Coat Of Arms

The reasons I joined Tumblr: I joined YEARS ago because my GF at the time had one and after we split i never deleted it

Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?: Ha....no

Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?: Nope

How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?: about 45 mins

Have you shaved your legs in the past three days?: NOPE

Where am I right now?: Home

Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?: louder the better

Do I live with my Mom and Dad?: nope

Am I excited for anything?: The sweet release of D- i mean i’m going on vacation soon

Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?: I’d like to think so

How often do I wear a fake smile? Less than I have been

If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?:You

What do I think about most?: If Global warming is a myth then why did Club Penguin shit down?

Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? behinddd

What was the last lie I told?: i’m okay

Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online?phone

Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?: sure

Do I believe in magic?: eh

Do I believe in luck?: sure

What’s the weather like right now?: overcast

What was the last book I’ve read?: Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Do I have any nicknames?: a few

Do I spend money or save it?: i’m trying to save

Can I touch my nose with a tounge?: nah

Favourite animal?: Lion

What was I doing last night at 12 AM?: Sleeping

What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?: Rivers and Roads

What is my favorite word?: tapioca

My top 5 blogs on tumblr: tbh i’m not on here enough

If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?: Stop being assholes to each other, Also #32 your table is ready

Do I have any relatives in jail?: nope

What is my current desktop picture?: TSM 2018 wallpaper

Had sex?: sure

Bought condoms?: always

Gotten pregnant?: nope

Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?: Sure

Had job?: yarp

Smoked weed?: yarp

Smoked cigarettes?: not my thing but i have before

Drank alcohol?: not really

Am I a vegetarian/vegan?: nope

Been overweight?: sure

Been underweight?: nope

Gotten my heart broken?: more than once

Been to prom?: nah, PLayed D&D insstead

Been in airplane?: yup

Learned another language?: yup

Wore make up?:yup

Dyed my hair?:Nope

Had a surgery?: Yes

Met someone famous?: a few

Stalked someone on a social network?: nah

Been fishing?: Yup

Been rejected by a crush?: Who hasn’t

What do I want for birthday?: peace and quite, and maybe a new PC

Do I like my handwriting?: eh, take it or leave it

Where do I want to live when older?: hmmm, Japan or Greece

Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?: Sure

What I’m really bad at:Taking compliments

What my greatest achievments are: Graduating from uni with my bachelors in Audio Engineering

The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me: listen man, I try not to think about it

What I’d do if I won in a lottery: ensure I could invest and create growth from my gains

What do I like about myself: my wit

My closest Tumblr friend: Technically you

Any question you’d like?...

Are you outgoing or shy?: I guess shy

What kind of people are you attracted to? Kind, and caring people

Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?: Bruh i don’t know if i’m eating breakfast tomorrow

Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?: not really

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?: man, i don’t even know

What does the most recent text that you sent say?: “Good and Good”

What are your 5 favorite songs right now? 1.2.3.4.5

Do you like it when people play with your hair?: if i’m comfortable with them, even then i have sensory issues

Do you think there is life on other planets?: i mean we can’t be the only things out there

Do you like bubble baths? Not really

Do you like your neighbors?: Never met them

Where would you like to travel?: at the very moment, North Carolina

Favorite part of your daily routine? sleeping

What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?: Face i guess

What do you do when you wake up?: find my will to live

Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?: nah

Do you ever want to get married?: dunno, prob not

If your hair long enough for a pony tail?: Yes

Would you rather live without TV or music?: TV

Have you ever liked someone and never told them?: oh sure

What are your favorite stores to shop in?: i don’t really shop like that

Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?: depends

Do you smile at strangers?: fake but yeah

Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?: no, not really

Ever wished you were someone else?: meh only sometimes

Favourite makeup brand? N/A i don’t know shit about makeup

Last thing you ate?: Spaghetti i made

Ever won a competition? For what? Music composition contest that paid for my first semester of college

Ever been in love?: you’ve asked this already

Facebook or Twitter?: eh i’m on FB more

Twitter or Tumblr?: Twitter atm

Are you watching tv right now?: nah

What colour are your towels?: White

Favourite ice cream flavour?: hmmm, something chocolate

First person you talked to today? Jim (my coworker)

Last person you talked to today? @falulu

Name a person you hate?: i don’t hate, or try not to

Name a person you love?: you

Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?: again, i’m not big on violence like that

Do you tan a lot?: nah, just am

Have any pets?: a puppy name Iris

Do you type fast? so-so

Do you regret anything from your past?: Sure

Ever broken someone’s heart?: Sure i have

Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?: all the time

Is cheating ever okay?: Nah fam

Do you believe in true love?: Sure, hasn’t happened to me yet but sure

What your zodiac sign? Scorpio

Do you believe in ghosts? sure

Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? ( Death and other Holidays)(Hope you’re happy Smartass)

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areaworks-blog · 5 years

Link

Coworking is great; we may be biased in saying so but where else in today's fast-paced work environment could you benefit from flexibility, diversity and free coffee as and when the mood strikes? London is the global capital for coworking in the UK, even outshining New York, and as such, we feel privileged to be in the heart of it all. Part of the responsibility of running a successful coworking office space in London is knowing when to recognise that an office is not just an office, which is a concept we feel pretty strongly about. Today, we are going to be looking at some of the most common misconceptions made about coworking offices, often put forward by those who have never tried one out for themselves. We will also be looking at five alternative uses for the shared office space, and why coworking offices like Areaworks' are certainly more than just a desk. Three Things You've Probably Been Told about Coworking Offices That Aren't True Despite the recent uprising of coworking spaces across the UK, the concept of working from a shared office space is still pretty much in its infancy. In fact, there are still a number of people out there who have preconceived ideas about coworking offices, which are quite often the only thing standing in the way of them giving it a go for themselves. But how can people get coworking so wrong? Let's take a look at some of those misconceptions that you've probably heard about coworking offices. . . Misconception #1: Nobody will take you seriously if you work in a coworking office. We've seen this before, and from a bit of digging, it seems to relate to the perceived idea that coworking offices are just a bit of fun, rather than a viable place to create, network and grow. Okay, okay – we can see why some outsiders may see the vibrant pops of colour, the hammock swings, slides and in-house bars as somewhat less than serious, but these are all just add-on perks of the job! Some of the most successful business ventures have been born out of coworking offices, and many big corporate names are beginning to catch on too – the likes of Microsoft, Apple and IBM are all reaping the benefits of working from a coworking office in 2019. So, tell us again that coworking spaces aren't for serious business. Misconception #2: I couldn't work from a coworking office; I'm too shy. Part of what makes shared office spaces unique is that they offer a once in a lifetime opportunity to work alongside like-minded people, entrepreneurs, people you can really bounce off of, but these aren't pre-requisites of becoming a member. The majority of shared office spaces provide both communal and isolated work areas. This means that if you're not feeling like getting involved in the group discussion, nobody will judge you! The magic of a coworking office is that you can be as social or as autonomous as you please. Misconception #3: Only freelancers work from coworking offices. Let's end on one of the most common misconceptions about coworking spaces, shall we? Whilst it is certainly true that most coworking spaces started off with a clientele that pretty much consisted of the self-employed freelancer, in 2019 this is no longer the case. As we mentioned in a previous point, coworking offices, particularly in places like London, are largely aimed at not just those people who previously might have worked from home, but also larger businesses, retail giants and a vast array of other professionals. Coworking is no longer just focussed on the artsy lone workers but now have the accessibility and scope to appeal to people from all sorts of career paths. Five Ways You Can Use Your Coworking Office That We Bet You Haven't Thought Of Whether you've worked in a shared office space that hasn't quite lived up to your expectations, or you've yet to try one at all – we bet you'd be surprised at just how much you can get from just a simple membership. Let's take a look at five reasons why you should consider working from a coworking office in 2019. #1 The Meeting Space Whether you're a freelancer or part of a larger corporate company, meetings will be part of your daily life, and having a good place to host one can make a world of difference. Coworking offices will often provide one-off membership options so that you can host that all-important meeting somewhere mutual, professional and with everything you may need under one roof. Vanquish those last-minute hassles like finding the working projector and getting someone on hand to make 19 cups of tea and coffee to order. A coworking office has all the mod cons you would need for a meeting and should have coffee, tea and snacks in surplus leaving you to concentrate on what you're all there for. #2 Host Events Hassle Free! One of the most beneficial things about a coworking office is that it is full to the brim with opportunity. Yes, you can work from the comfort of a hammock chair and sip on cocktails during happy hour, but that isn't what makes the backbone of a successful coworking space. If you are looking to host an event, whether it be a laid-back work talk, an extravagant social event to roll out that new up and coming product or a team building workshop, a good coworking office space can make for the perfect environment. In today's competitive coworking environment, with new unique and innovative spaces popping up all over the country, more spaces are catching on to the importance of offering MORE. Take us for example, we invite anyone to host with us, whether you want to have a cheese and vino evening with your management colleagues or a networking tete-a-tete; you can do it all in a vibrant, fresh and engaging environment. After all, coworking is about communities, and what better way to encourage positive relationships than a good in-house event full of laughter, ideas and motivation?! #3 The Social Club It's Happy Hour! We get how hard our members work, and like us, many other coworking spaces offer a chance to kick back and unwind after a hard slog staring at a screen. Coworking spaces around London give members an opportunity to take a step back from the buzz of creating to communicate, network and just reboot. Whilst we understand that the social scene of coworking offices in London isn't always going to appeal to everyone, we believe in the importance of having the option. Besides, if you are using a coworking space as a one-off to host an event or a meeting, what better way to seal the deal with potential new business partners than to invite them to join you for a happy hour cocktail, or two? #4 Learn Something New Whether you work solo or as part of a team, the importance of learning never goes away. In today's fast-paced world, things are constantly changing, and it can be a tough task keeping up. One of the best things on offer at coworking offices, and something we highly suggest you take part in when the opportunity arises, is workshops. Often very low cost or completely free to existing members, many coworking offices in London offer innovative workshops on everything from managing your business finances to how to market on Instagram. If you're not coming to a coworking office London to network, get your head down or host a meeting, do it for the workshops – trust us! #5 Meetups Now, don't get us wrong, the purpose of a coworking office is predominantly to offer you an opportunity to get your work done somewhere away from home or the local coffee shop, as well as an opportunity to network and grow your business. However, that being said, there is nothing stopping anyone from stepping into their local shared office space for an afternoon meet up with the friends who are visiting from abroad, a quick coffee with the girls or even to plan a family get together. Coworking offices are designed for communities, whether that is in a professional capacity or not, so why not give your local coffee shop a miss and try your local coworking office for a change? You might be surprised at how the community welcome you, and who knows, you may even be struck with some inspiration whilst there! Why Not See What A Coworking Office Can Bring To Your Life We sincerely hope you have learnt something new about coworking offices today, after all, we're all about inspiring and educating our members wherever possible. If you're still unsure whether a coworking space is just another place to work, then why not come and visit us in one of our spaces? We would love to give you a tourand show you what we have to offer! If you want to host your next event in one of our spaces get in touch

#coworking #coworking office #coworking office space #coworking office London

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speedilyloudpaper · 6 years

Text

1 0 t o w i n

‘OK Jeff. Which group supported Smokey Robinson on The Tears of a Clown in 1970?’

A clock sound effect ticks.

‘Um.. I think that were The Miracles’

Ding

‘Correct, well done! Question 10, listen carefully… name the song title and artist of the following 90s one hit wonder.’

‘You’ve got this, Jeff!’ adds the radio Dj, nonchalantly. Despite his genuine admiration at Jeff’s knowledge of music, he couldn’t make himself interested in the outcome of today’s Ten to Win.

And if you think

That I've been losing my way

That's because I'm slightly blinded

And if you think

That I don't make too much sense

That's because

I'm broken minded

Jeff did have this, he remembers playing a cover of it when he was younger. Suddenly he’s back on stage of the Hillsborough Working Men’s club, clad in freshly ripped jeans and a white T shirt with the sleeves rolled over his shoulders, thrashing his bass guitar like his life depended on it. Yes, he can see the setlist in front of him in his mind’s eye.

‘I think that was... Inside, by um Stiltskin’

‘Congratulations Jeff! That’s 10 out of 10, you really do know your music. You just won yourself a digital radio!’

Jeff feels immense elation having won the quiz, indeed this is the most exciting thing that has happened to him all year.

‘Aw fantasti-’

‘Yeah really well done. Is there anyone you’d like to give a shoutout to, Jeff?’

Jeff sits on the sofa in his living room with his new smartphone held next to his ear, wearing an old Aerosmith T shirt and dressing gown. The room is small and sparsely furnished, with a threadbare carpet and dated off white floral wallpaper. Beside the sofa is a small wooden cabinet. Across the room, next to a fireplace in which stands an electric fan heater, is a huge flat screen impulse-bought television playing on mute. There are no ornaments other than a few photographs on the mantelpiece and an ashtray on the cabinet. Old and yellowing white lace curtains droop over the window, allowing in a little light. In the corner by the window sits an acoustic guitar on a black stand.

‘Um, yeah.. There’s my cousin Derek, who’ll be listening at work’ says Jeff. His cousin wouldn’t usually be the first person to enter his mind, but hearing that track had started a flood of memories of his days in his old band, which Derek, or Del back then, was the lead singer, along with his best mates Tony and Gaz on drums and guitar. The memories bring a wave of nostalgia, but also something else.

‘Also my two sons, Will and Joey, they’re both at their mother’s today, but they said they’d listen t’ the show… um.. All the fellas at work and… and’

He stares at the bare wall above the television set. Suddenly his eyes feel weary and his face feels heavy. Another memory comes to him.

He’s sitting in the passenger seat of his uncle’s van with his bandmates, their equipment in the back. BBC radio 2 is playing over the speakers, for background noise and so the guys could complain to each other about radio stations never playing ‘real music’. In truth, Jeff quite liked the old pop songs they would play, but he wouldn’t have told any of the others. He liked and respected most genres of music, which was probably what made him the most talented at writing songs for the band.

A man had just lost a quiz and was asked if he’d like to mention anybody. It was always men or women of a certain age, who would proceed to reel off a pre prepared list of people they knew like they’d just won a BAFTA, usually followed by the line ‘and anybody else who knows me that I haven’t mentioned’, like everybody they’ve ever met is listening, and they can shout in all of their faces ‘Remember me? Look at me now! I’m on radio!’, Jeff thought.

‘Listen to this guy, makin’ such a big deal of being on the radio’ grunts Tony distastefully, his elbow resting on the window frame, holding a lit cigarette out of the window. ‘I bet this feels like his 15 minutes of fame. After he hangs up he’ll go back to being a fuckin’ nobody.’ The rest nod in agreement. ‘I tell you now lads’ he continues ‘we’re not gonna be like that. We’ll be on the radio alright, just not doing a stupid quiz’

‘Hopefully we won’t be played on a crap station like this.’ adds Jeff, earning him a few chuckles from the others. He didn’t like classing people as nobodies or successes, but he did agree with his mate. In fact each member of the band had a desire to make something of themselves. He supposed it was due to angst of growing up in a small northern town, however he was sure that in himself, and perhaps the others, it came from something much deeper, didn’t it?. It was about doing more with his life than he watched those around him do. He didn’t want to live in the future, in the past or only at the weekend, he wanted to really live for every second, following his passion and putting his heart into what he did; and what he was passionate about, more than anything, was music.

‘Jeff? Sorry I’m going to have to hurry you up’

‘Um yeah. Sorry. A-and...’ he lets out a sigh and a dry laugh, almost mocking himself.

‘And everybody who knows me who I haven’t mentioned’ he hears himself say.

The nostalgia recedes like an ocean tide, leaving him empty and all too aware of the present moment, the empty flat, the familiar silence except the sound of water running through pipes and occasional quiet whoosh of a car passing outside. The radio host says something but he isn’t listening, and he’s put on hold.

Jeff thinks of all the people who know him who he hasn’t mentioned. Other members of his family, who he keeps meaning to see more often, his friends he meets at the weekends to play pool and get drunk, and his coworkers, who he sees almost every day.

Cher’s ‘If I Could Turn Back Time’ plays in his ear, distorted and crackling, as he pictures the last 20 years of faces, and with the faces, memories.

The band had played regularly for three years, playing to crowds that increased in size each night, earning themselves a small following. One of their best performances was at a nightclub in Leeds, to a crowd of over a thousand people. The frenzy of the crowd was like nothing the band had seen before. People were jumping up and down and bouncing off of each other like one giant crazy pounding mass of screaming faces and waving arms that could burst through the walls. The energy that came off this thing was immense, like a powerful force that spurred the band to another level. By the end of the show, each member of the band was utterly worn out and dripping with sweat, the pickups on Gaz’s guitar were splattered with blood from his fingers (which they all found extremely cool).

It wasn’t just the performance that made that night so special for Jeff, it was also the night he met his wife. After the show, the band had gone to the club’s bar, where each had necked the most refreshing beer they would ever taste. After ordering a second they were approached by a girl with red lipstick and a big wavy hairstyle, who introduced herself as Debbie, saying how great the performance was. She was clearly drawn to Jeff more than the others, to his surprise. Admittedly, being the bass player, he was often overlooked by their female fans after the show, something that Del and Gaz would enjoy winding him up about. Because of this, and the fact he was still coated with sweat and had beer dripping from his chin, he didn’t expect her to be interested in him, but she was, and the two got on well. She had travelled with the band for a while before moving into Jeff’s flat. She saw Jeff as a perfect opportunity to get away from her parents, and the fact he played in a rock band was an added bonus. Perhaps she had rushed things a little, but she did suppose she loved him.

Six months later. The two are in the kitchen. Debbie is pregnant. The two had known for a while, yet neither had really mentioned the changes that were soon to come, especially regarding the band. Eventually she decided they’d avoided it for long enough, and brought it up one day before breakfast. She explained that having a baby meant that he’d have to get a job with a more steady income, and that he wouldn’t be able to travel as much with the band anymore. Of course Jeff had already thought about this, he just didn’t want to face the truth. On top of this, she also said that traveling with the band had had an effect on her as well, and that they weren’t spending as much time together as she’d like. This he hadn’t thought about. Obviously they weren’t the only couple to have thought about this, as a day later, the band were in Gaz’s living room, his girlfriend in the kitchen, when Gaz suggests that they call it quits on the band. They all eventually agree.

Del manages to get Jeff a job at Hardy & Co, the factory where Del’s brother worked. Jeff remembers being in the interview, sat across from some miserable looking manager, who had huge bags under his eyes and yellowed uneven teeth and sour breath, trying to explain his O levels and how hard he was willing to work blah blah blah, when all he could really think about was leaving his dreams and passion behind for a 9 to 5 job that meant nothing to him. He got the job and since then life had gone on like it does for most. He and Deborah got married. The baby was born followed by another a year later. At the factory he worked his way from floor assistant to supervisor. He struggled to think of anything that had made his life much different from the thousands of other ‘nobodies’ his age, apart from, maybe, the fact that his wife cheated on him. Then again that might be more common than you think, he thought, if television dramas are anything to go by.

Of course, he hadn’t spent his life in misery, dwelling on the fact that his band never became a major success. He’d had his ups and downs like anybody. There had been moments of immense happiness, such as his wedding day or when he held his children for the first time. In fact, until hearing that song in the radio quiz, he hadn’t thought about his band or old dreams in a few years. He never forgot his love of music either, as he was always listening to new tapes and CDs, and was known by his colleagues as the man to go to to settle an argument about who topped the charts in what year, or who played a certain song. He had a job to do all day, friends to meet at the weekend, and kept himself entertained in his free time, like everyone does.

Only seeing the years flash before him now made it seem so empty and pointless, leaving him feeling overwhelmed with regret and hopelessness and with a sinking in his chest. He felt like he’d failed himself. Like he’d let himself down. He couldn’t just blame himself though, and he started to feel irritated at the whole world for screwing things up for him.

His talent, his dreams, his passion for music had come to nothing. Well, he had gained one thing from it all; winning this radio quiz. Maybe he’d impressed a few listeners. Maybe he’d --

‘Hello? Is that Jeff’

Jeff stands up quickly when he hears the voice, remembering he should be ecstatic that he’s won the quiz, but unable to shake that strange mix of wistfulness and exasperation.

‘Yeah... still here’

When did I become such a fucking failure

‘Hi, congrats on winning today’s quiz. Could you please tell us your full name and address so we can send you your Sony D.A.B radio?’

This is what his lifelong love for music had come down to. This is what he had to show for it all. A Sony D.A.B fucking radio. Maybe he could show it off to visitors. Maybe people would ask him where he got it from, and he could tell them how he had won the quiz. It wasn’t much but it was something. He snickers at himself again, sardonically.

‘Yeah yeah, it’s um Jeff Stephens--’

The phone beeps.

‘Hello?’

No reply.

He takes the phone away from his ear and looks at the screen. Instantly he realises the stupid phone has hung up, like it keeps doing all the fucking time. I don’t even get the fucking radio. He isn’t sure whether he wants to laugh or cry.

He stands motionless in the silent room for a few seconds. The empty hole inside him has quickly filled with white-hot rage.

‘FUCK!’ he screams at the top of his voice, straining the veins in his face.

‘FUCKING SHIT FUCKING--’ he aggressively lobs the piece of shit smartphone at his guitar in the corner, smashing the screen, snapping the case and leaving a huge dent in his guitar.

‘PIECE OF SHIT’ he yells, his voice faltering this time. He collapses into the sofa, his anger becoming despair.

‘Stupid fucking phone’ he cries.

‘Stupid fucking guitar, fucking band’ tears fill his eyes.

‘Fucking job... fucking kids...fucking...all this shit’

He opens his mouth to say something else but doesn’t, and slumps back further into his sofa and he doesn’t move for a while.

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atruththatyoudeny · 7 years

Text

Monthly Reads | August 2017

OMG! August was such a good month - I’ve read lots of amazing fics! Please make sure to also check out the fics under the cut! ❤ THANK YOU TO ALL WRITERS FOR YOUR HARD WORK AND FOR SHARING YOUR STORIES! ❤ Top 5 6 + 11 more under the cut:

Pray for some sweet simplicity

by delsicle | a/b/o | enemies to lovers | 237k Louis is the only omega to ever make it in the cut-throat world of competitive motorcycle racing—that is, he would be if anyone actually knew about his identity. Now, his sights are set towards competing in—and winning—the European Grand Prix, the biggest and most difficult race of the entire year, so he can disappear underground for good. He’s close enough, too, until an alpha sports journalist is assigned to follow Louis’s every move as he prepares for the event of his career. Or, an AU where motorcycle racing is the biggest sport in a heavily divided world, Louis is trying to take control of his own destiny, and Harry is in for more than he bargained for.

[*edited*]

Chasing Empty Spaces

by domesticharry | historical AU | 1930s | 79k The year is 1934 and Harry Styles was to inherent the largest tobacco firm in the south. His parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. The problem was, Harry hadn’t realized he didn’t actually want any part of that future until he met a mechanic named, Louis Tomlinson.

We’ll Be Seamless

by dinosaursmate for HL Fic Fest (2017) | Tumblr AU | pining | exhibitionism | voyeurism | 52k Green reblogged an old photo of himself. It was from back in October, a Halloween special. A pulse shot all the way through Louis because this photo was his absolute favourite, and it had taken the rest of the year for him to wean himself off of it. Green was on his knees, arms stretched out in front of him with his fingertips digging into the surface of his bed. He was wearing a pair of cat ears on his head, his curls falling forward. His back was arched, and in the foreground of the picture, Green’s bum was high in the air, a long, black cat tail sitting neatly between his cheeks. — Louis spends all his spare time scrolling arty nude blogs on Tumblr but amongst them all, Green is his favourite.

Given a Chance

by Fabby | Future Fic | canon compliant | slow burn | coming back together | anxiety attacks| 173k Five years after One Direction took their last tour, the last thing Louis Tomlinson ever expected to happen while on a tea run at the local Piggly Wiggly was to run into his ex-boyfriend and ex-bandmate Harry Styles. The odds of them ever running into each other again had to be super slim, right? Wrong. What happens when you mix ex-boyfriends with a large serving of Small Town America? Will Louis and Harry be able to set aside their differences, or will Louis be able to stay breezy as fuck in the wake of Harry’s arrival? (or, the one where Louis and Harry run into each other five years after One Direction ends and learn how to love each other again. Featuring: Reggie as the overweight labrador, Niall as Louis’ last grip on reality, and Nowheresville, North Carolina as the setting for Louis’ worst nightmare to come true.)

No sooner loved (series)

by benzos 1| As the winter to foul weather Trans character | mpreg | abortion | hurt/comfort | 45k AU. An unplanned pregnancy throws a spanner into Harry and Louis’ relationship. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. 2| You and you are sure together Trans character | eating disorder | hurt/comfort | 48k AU. The first day of fall term, Louis hits one of his residents in the face with a door. Later that day, said resident seeks refuge after a fight with his roommate. It becomes a thing. And then it becomes something else. 3| Baby, i’m speeding, and red lights are run pwp | 7k Louis really would’ve liked to just order the damn thing off the internet, but Harry insists that anything going inside your body ought to be thoroughly researched, which, apparently, mandates going to a sex shop. Knowing how ludicrously uncomfortable Louis is with the whole thing, Harry devises the ingenious solution of bringing Eleanor along and having her pose as Harry’s girlfriend who’s interested in trying out pegging, with Louis tagging along as a supportive best mate. It’s not Harry’s worst plan to date, but it’s somewhere in that range.

Under me, you

by hazzafrazza | friends to lovers | superheroes | 12 k You Won’t Believe Who Was Spotted Leaving Harry Styles’ Primrose Hill Pad! If Harry was being completely honest, it probably wasn’t the best idea to be a world-renowned popstar and an infamous vigilante. (Especially when all the comic books said never reveal your secret identity to keep your loved ones safe – which was all well and good, until Louis.) Or: Harry wants a lot of things – fame, glory, Louis – but that last one is particularly hard to get when everyone thinks you’re dating your secret superhero alter-ego and suddenly you’ve become your own worst cockblock.

Such Good Luck

by casuallyhl for HL Mpreg Fic Exchange | Historical AU | 1910s | mpreg | secret relationship | class difference | 66k Louis smiles at Harry’s words, leaning into his touch. “Tell me again.” Smiling, Harry takes Louis into his arms. Pressing gentle kisses to his face, Harry murmurs, “In six months’ time, I will have my twenty-fifth birthday. On that day, my portion of the inheritance will become legally mine. And I plan that very day to announce to my family that I have found love.” Harry chuckles as he runs his lips lightly along Louis’ cheekbone. “That, in fact, I found love when I was twenty-one years old, and that I have loved and been loved every day since.” Or, an Edwardian AU where Harry is a young aristocratic lord and Louis is a working class dairy farmer. Secrets are a necessary part of their relationship, but Louis has one that could topple their whole world.

What A Life I’d Have Missed

by harioandlouigi for HL Mpreg Fic Exchange | mpreg | established relationship | 27k It all started with a prank, tears, and guilt. Louis has been pranking Harry since the day they met. Now, seven years later, Harry has finally come up with the perfect plan to prank his husband back. He has a borrowed positive pregnancy test in front of him, he’s perfected his facial expression, and he’s dead sure Louis will fall for it. He doesn’t exactly get the panicked reaction he expected, though. As a matter of fact, nothing ever seems to turn out the way he expects it to, but that’s for the best, really. Or, the one where an insensitive joke soon becomes a very real, happy pregnancy.

Small Doses (Loving You It’s Explosive)

by Anonymous for HL Summer Exchange 2017 | personal trainer Harry | boxing | dom/sub undertones | 38k Louis Tomlinson finds himself at Vitality Fitness to try and turn his life around after having left his cheating boyfriend of four years. The gym’s owner, Liam, quickly becomes a good friend, but his right hand man is rude and dismissive from the get-go. Louis and Harry continue to clash all while Harry is trying to move his way up the ranks in Manchester’s amateur boxing circuit, but they can’t seem to stay away from each other.

Sound Like a Song

by allwaswell16 for HL Fic Fest (2017) | 14k In high school, Louis Tomlinson lit up Harry’s world like nobody else, even if Harry did most of his pining from the safety of his tightly knit circle of friends. Ten years later, Harry is ready to make some changes. He’s tired of having so many regrets and not taking charge of his life, and he still hasn’t forgotten how brightly Louis shines. He’s about to get a long awaited second chance. Or the one where Harry helps out at a farmer’s market and gives Louis free vegetables.

Take Me Back to Where We Started

by amory | exes to lovers | famous/non-famous | 27k Harry and Louis haven’t spoken since they broke up four years ago. As boarding school sweethearts they once spent every waking moment together, but now they can hardly stand to be in the same room. When their five year class reunion comes around, both boys decide against their better judgement to return and (hopefully) have a good time. The only problem is, they’re both still hopelessly in love. Starring Harry as the petty ex, Louis as the new James Bond, Niall as a boy genius and fake boyfriend extraordinaire, and Liam and Zayn as two friends just trying to make it out of this weekend alive.

Tightrope

by Anonymous for HL Mpreg Fic Exchange | mpreg | exes | friends to lovers | 33k Louis knows he and Harry are going to be together for the rest of their lives and one day they were going to get married and have three point five children, a dog, and two cats. But life hasn’t matched up perfectly yet and that time is not now. So they are both happy to be best friends and casually date other people until life decides they really should get their shit together. aka Louis gets pregnant from “one last time” sex and he and Harry somehow think they’ll be able co-parent without it being weird for anyone (most especially their new boyfriends).

Souls; Plural, Parallel

by Anonymous for HL Mpreg Fic Exchange | mpreg | soulmates | 19k Soulmates are rare, the sort of rare that means everyone has a story about a friend’s sister’s coworker or a brother’s roommate’s cousin. But the fact of the matter is that most people never meet theirs. It’s unfortunate then, that Louis finds out the hard way that he met his soulmate in a club, and the guy never texted him back.

Friend Request

by Anonymous for HL Summer Exchange 2017 | 11k This was written for Kassio as a pinch hit for the HL Summer Exchange, from the prompt: “ Louis is bored on Facebook and in the “People you may know” suggestions, he sees the name Harry Styles. The profile picture doesn’t show the person. He thinks it’s an old family friend who he misses – maybe a middle-aged or elderly former neighbor or babysitter who he was fond of as a child - and sends a friend request. Turns out it’s not old man Harry from their old neighborhood, it’s hot young Harry (who he’s never met before) who accepts his friend request…”

If the Surface Begs You Home

by Anonymous for HL Mpreg Fic Exchange | mpreg | mermaid!Harry | 17k Harry is a mermaid from the underwater kingdom of Mercadia who is a little too fascinated by life above the surface. He’s kicked out of his home after he winds up pregnant, and has to figure out how to make his way in the world. Louis is the darling of the small neighbouring seaside village who came home after university to take over their local library, and can’t seem to stay away from the mysterious pregnant mermaid his friends introduce him to.

Out of the blue corner

by fallingaway | boxing | slow burn 85k Louis is a boxer banned because of doping. Harry is a journalist following the story. * * * “It seemed like a normal morning, but he had a feeling it was the quiet before the storm. And by storm, he meant getting involved in Louis Tomlinson’s life.”

#pray for some sweet simplicity #chasing empty spaces #we'll be seamless #given a chance #no sooner loved #hl mpreg fic exchange #hl summer exchange 2017 #hl fic fest 2017 #fic rec #monthly reads #my fic rec #pairing: larry #completed fics #my reads

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commentaryonhowwelive · 4 years

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March 2015. Age 22. Walking

“Jay and Winding Trail”

I like to think of my loneliness in a plethora of positive ways. It’s not loneliness in the general sense that I experience, but rather a mellow contentment with only myself on purpose. Relying on only yourself is kind of like the ultimate back up plan for happiness. On the flip side, it’s ok to to try to seek happiness through frivolous social interaction, such as going out for drinks with friends or going on dates. After all, we’re social beings and thrive on social interaction.

We never would’ve gotten to where we are as a species if it wasn’t for our social instincts. However, I think that we’ve come to the point that our need for social interaction can be substituted with our capability of cognitive synthesis. We can idealize, hope and dream, long for the perfect life, whether we’re experiencing it or not. And whether or not we have a good thing happening at the moment, there’s always tomorrow. Today will make a good story regardless.

“Jay and Juhles”

I remember reading somewhere about the concept losing and gaining the same amount of something being equal objectively, but not always subjectively.

In other words, the act of losing something hurts more than having gained it.

In other other words, it feels worse to lose $100 than it feels good to gain $100.

In even more other words, say that your happiness can be measured on a scale of -100 to 100 happiness points. Losing $100 brings you to -75 points but gaining $100 only brings you to +35 points. It’s easier to become more sad by losing something than to become more happy by gaining that same amount. So what’s the point of trying? It’s the same with people. Don’t risk the loss of people, whether it be via platonic or romantic relationships. It’s so easy to be happy alone, that why even put forth the effort if everyone’s going to be gone out of your life at some point anyways? This is why I was alone that day.

“28th and Walnut”

I pulled on the wire.

“Stop Requested”

The LED sign at the front of the bus flash between “28TH AND WALNUT” and “STOP REQUESTED”.

It came to a halt and I walked out without making eye contact with anyone. “Thank you have a nice day,”

The bus driver gave a head nod and two finger wag/wave as I walked out. It was about 50 degrees in Boulder and the blue sky set a beautiful backdrop in every direction I looked. Only a slight breeze, not even enough to pierce to my cotton jacket, let alone my flannel underneath. All I wanted to do was walk that day.

I love walking in general. It’s so human, so natural. I have a body and legs, so by god I’m gonna use them. That’s my one of the only reasons for why I like walking so much.

I liken it to the way that a monk named Ben that I met while working at a summer camp would look at running. I always ran for the “normal” reasons: getting and staying in shape, anxiety relief, letting loose my anger. Running has always been cathartic. I remember one morning at camp seeing Ben at breakfast and asking how he was doing. He beamed at me and said “I’m well. I ran this morning.”

I asked him, “How far?” to which he looked slightly puzzled as to why I asked such a question and replied, “I don’t know, maybe 2 or 3 miles?”

I, on the other hand was curious why he didn’t pay attention to how far he ran.

I wore my Smart Watch religiously to keep track of how far I’d ran, how fast I was running, altitude differentials, the list goes on. But the way he described it to me made me feel like I’d been running the wrong way my entire life. It seems challenging to run the “wrong way”. It’s not like I was running with my shoes on my hands. No, it wasn’t the physical difference that made me feeling like I was running incorrectly, but rather the lack of connection I had with the synthesis between my body and the world. I have a body that can run and no matter how I think about it, whether my higher level cognition actively turns it into a game of goals and achievements, all my body actually wants to do is run and doesn’t care if I run a 7:33 pace or a 7:32 pace.

He ran for none of the reasons I ran. He ran because he had legs and by god he was going to use them. He ran because his body wanted to run. He wanted to experience what his body was capable of doing and embrace it. He ran for no other reason than to run and to feel himself run. It’s so simple, and creates such a feeling of exhilaration when you ignore everything but the feeling of your body.

So I walk. I still like to run, but when the opportunity arises, I walk. I walk even if I have a car, even if it’s slower, even if it’s slightly less convenient.

It was needless to try to convince anyone how beautiful that day was, so I walked. I watched the bus chug on ahead, letting people off all the way down the road every few blocks until it was out of sight. I could’ve got off at any of those stops, but I chose to get off earlier. No particular reason why, I just could.

My backpack light on my back, I cut through some residential streets to the Boulder creek path then turned west. There was a sense of peace and gratefulness among everybody out that day, happy to take advantage of one of the first few warm days sprinkled into the beginnings of spring. I saw a family riding their bikes together, a mom, dad, and daughter of probably seven. A woman lay under an aspen. A crew of college students playing ultimate frisbee on the high school soccer field. A homeless man had his backpack emptied, presumably to air out, as he sat next to the creek, looking into the constantly moving water reflectively.

I saw all these people as I meandered along the concrete path, the icy cold stream humming along to my left, the evergreens sticking out like a sore thumb among the bare deciduous trees. Many of the people I saw were spending time with friends and family. I could’ve felt a l negative loneliness as I walked alone. I could’ve felt a sadness that I didn’t have anyone to walk with, or anyone to meet up with later. But I didn’t I was walking and experiencing my body just like everyone else was doing in their own way and I loved it.

I had no plans. I was planning on going home and winging some Indian curry. “Do I need anything else from the grocery store?” I wondered to myself as I walked comfortably alone. “tofu...green and red peppers....onion...I just bought curry powder....coconut milk...” my eyes perked up, “Oh right, I want to add kale,” I thought as I looked for the next turn north so I could walk to Sprouts to buy some greens to add to that night’s dinner.

Spending time with people is nice. I enjoy it. But I’ve found that I’m just such great company for myself that I hand’t had a desire recently to make an effort to spend more time socializing. My pizza delivery job gives me plenty of connection to people. I can chit chat with my coworkers while we make pizzas and joke about unruly customers, “oh god, toe sock guy with his cat...plug your nose when he opens his door!” we joked like brothers.

When I was a kid, my brothers and I would turn the volume all the way down on the TV and make the voices for the characters. It was funniest when my older brother did it, he’d make the old lady talk about how she was so old and nobody loves her and all the little children would yell mean things at her. I laughed so hard I remember not being able to breath, then wanting to do it myself but it just wasn’t as funny. He was a lot better at it than I was.

I got a lot of practice doing this while I worked my delivery job, and I started doing it during my walks too. Maybe my brothers would’t find it funny but I cracked myself up with it. I pretended I could read their minds and think about the absurd stuff that they’re thinking and hiding. I’d make funny voices for them, exaggerating their characteristics and quirks.

Recently, it seemed like as soon as sad thoughts tried to enter my head, the bouncer didn’t let them in. My brain was like a club and the thoughts inside were having a good time. They could look outside and see the sad thoughts try to enter but the bouncer stood firm. They left. The everlasting party casually carried on.

“Things are pretty alright right now”, I thought to myself, quietly mumbling the words under my breath. I thought of all the personal problems I’d encountered since moving to Colorado.

Depression. Anxiety. Longing for home. Loneliness.

These are things that could've been going on in my head, but they weren’t there. I saw those thoughts, and they flew away out of my periphery like a magpie. I whistled as I walked. No one was there to tell me to stop whistling. It wasn’t bothering anyone.

None of those so-called problems seemed to matter any more. I was overcome with a sense of peace. Not of jubilation, not of stoke, not even really happiness. It was just a quiet calming. It was as if I could look at these things that wrapped tightly around my brain and my lungs only a few months ago that seeped into my neuronal pathways like an infection, and now I could look at them objectively like items on a table. One quick swipe of my hand and they all went crashing to the floor. This was how I felt ever sense I started taking Lexapro. Lexapro was the bouncer and my consciousness was the club. All of these extreme feelings that sent me sinking into my bed at 2 in the afternoon all of the sudden turned into birds and just flew away.

I did meet a beautiful girl recently. I’m not giving her too much concern, but I think I might invite her over for dinner.

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