#i lucked out so hard last time - Valentine and Moving Along are the two songs off YB I was devastated to see go from the setlist
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but when it heals, it beats for you
summary: my fic for @thoughtfullyyoungduck for the Writers Revolution Valentine’s Exchange.
words: 3,314
rating: T
a/n: I made a new taglist as it has been a year! If anyone wants on it, please just let me know! <3
* * * * *
Eddie hated parties, he always had. Even when he was younger and his friends would have birthday parties in their backyards, Eddie hated them. Maybe it was the loud screaming of the children, or the germs as they shoved their fingers into all the food that had been laid out in the open air, Eddie couldn’t tell, just knew that he didn’t like it. Even when he went to college, his hatred for parties never changed as soda was replaced with alcohol, and screaming children were replaced with screaming adolescents.
Those parties though were still a little bit more bearable than these parties. These parties being ‘work social gatherings’, a sorry excuse for all the boring office people he worked with to come together and gossip in a place with alcohol instead of at their desks. These gatherings were also a way for co-workers to cosy up to the Heads of Departments with the hopes of securing a promotion or even a pay rise. The whole thing made Eddie want to barf, and the worst thing about it was that he was obligated to be there as a new member of the staff.
Fresh out of college, Eddie had secured a job as an admin assistant at a lawyer’s firm in New York City. It wasn’t anywhere near his dream job, but when you were poor any job would suffice just to be able to pay the bills. Eddie didn’t have any other option, and he would just have to grin and bear it until a better opportunity came along. With that thought in mind, he stepped up to the bar and ordered a beer, taking full advantage of the free open bar.
“Kaspbrak, I wasn’t expecting you to actually show up. You’ve surprised me!” A voice practically yelled from right next to Eddie. He winced and turned to greet his co-worker, Josh, with a forced smile. “You should come over here, meet some people. Important people, if you get what I mean?”
Meeting people was the last thing Eddie wanted to do, in fact he had hoped to get through the evening without speaking to anyone. However, the look on Josh’s face told him that he wasn’t getting out of this one, and with a sigh he nodded, gripping the neck of the beer bottle and slipping from the stool.
“Sure, lead the way.”
Josh ran his mouth as they made their way through the crowds to whatever table they were heading to. Eddie drowned out his voice, even though it was rather difficult given how loud he was, but it suddenly became a whole lot easier when another voice drowned out Josh’s annoying tone. A voice that Eddie would recognise anywhere. He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes locking onto the back of someone he thought he’d never see again.
He was engaged in a conversation with Eddie’s boss and another co-worker, Janet, who was fake smiling and making ridiculous attempts at flirting. Even though Eddie had no right to, a feeling of jealousy built up in his stomach.
Richie.
Eddie stopped walking, freezing in the spot as his brain started providing him with escape routes. Out of all the people that had to be at the function that night, why did it have to be Richie? What did Eddie deserve to be faced with such bad luck?
Sensing that Eddie had stopped following him, Josh turned around with a frown on his face, before grabbing Eddie by the wrist and tugging him forward into the group. The force of the jolt forward sent Eddie flying, knocking him into Richie himself, who also jolted forward, causing Janet’s drink to spill on her fancy blouse.
Serves you right, Janet.
“Woah, easy there-” Richie started at the same time Janet snapped in her high pitched voice, “Fuck sake, Eddie, watch where you’re going!” Which caused Richie to freeze and look down at who exactly had knocked him sideways. Their eyes locked, and just for a second, no-one else at the work gathering mattered but the two of them. Eddie had forgotten just how easy he could get lost in Richie’s eyes.
The moment didn’t last long, thanks to Janet, who pushed Eddie away just a little to fuss over Richie, making sure none of her drink spilled over his fancy three piece suit. “Eddie is new, please don’t let his clumsiness affect anything we were talking about,” she fussed, and Eddie had to roll his eyes at the dramatics of it all.
“Calm down Janet, it was just an accident,” Eddie muttered, taking a much needed step back from Richie, putting distance between them. No matter how far he moved though, the scent of his cologne was stuck in his nostrils. He swallowed, feeling Richie’s eyes on him and Eddie knew if he looked up, he’d see the same confusion and questioning in his eyes that was there the last time they saw one another.
Eddie wasn’t ready to deal with that issue yet. Nope, no way.
Luck was never on his side though, as Josh took that moment to speak up, addressing why he brought Eddie over there in the first place. “Yes, Eddie is our new co-worker, but he should have an equal chance of meeting important people like the rest of us. Eddie, this is one of our companies interested investors, Richie Tozier.”
There was a pregnant pause before Richie smiled and extended his hand for him to take, which Eddie did. A jolt of electricity shot up his arm and he almost pulled back before he remembered everyone watching them. According to all of Eddie’s coworkers, this was the first time he was meeting Richie Tozier, they had no idea just how well the two knew each other.
“Nice to meet you,” Eddie offered, not sure if Richie wanted the group to know they had history.
Just at that moment, the music changed from an upbeat tune to a much slower one and Janet lurched forward, breaking the trance the two of them were under. “Mr Tozier, I love this song. Would you dance with me?” Eddie had to hold back a scoff at how obvious she was being. The company, of course, had chosen her to charm Richie intp signing a contract with them and she was, no doubt, going all out with her given task. It was a little pathetic, really.
Hoping to make a quick exit back to the bar for one last drink before slipping out the back door, Eddie stepped back, only for a hand to be wrapped around his wrist, tugging him back. It was Richie’s hand, of course it was, and there was a look in his eyes that Eddie couldn’t quite place. “Actually, I was hoping Eddie would dance with me, if that’s alright with you?” He asked, eyes never leaving Eddie’s shocked one’s for a second.
Eddie should say no, he should shake his head and tell Richie to dance with Janet, it was her role in all this after all. God, if he said yes Janet would shoot daggers into his back for the next month, at least. The thing was, Eddie didn’t want to say no. Call him selfish all you want, but Eddie wanted to be alone with Richie, even if it was just for a three minute dance. With his mind made up, Eddie nodded his head, allowing Richie to take his hand and lead him to the dance floor.
It wasn’t until Eddie felt Richie’s hand on the small of his back as he pulled him closer for the dance, that he realised his chest was all compressed in panic. The second that Richie’s hand touched him, all the panic faded and it was as though a bubble had formed around the two of them.
“A lawyer’s firm, eh?” Richie broke the silence, his chin settling on top of Eddie’s head. They had only been in each other's presence for ten minutes and they were already falling into their old habits. “I swear, I didn’t know you worked here.”
That caught Eddie off guard and he pulled back to look up at Richie with a confused frown on his face. “What do you mean? I never- I didn’t think you knew I worked here. Why would I think that?”
Richie shrugged a little, looking bashful as he glanced up at the ceiling for a brief moment, “I just wanted you to know that I didn’t...look you up or anything. I didn’t follow you or check up on what you were doing. Even if I wanted to.” He let out a breath. “You made your decision and I respected it.”
Another lump formed in Eddie’s throat and Richie’s words only seemed to add to the confusion. Yes, he had made the decision to end their relationship, but only because Richie was going to end it first. “I don’t understand. Why would you want to check up on me? Or follow me or whatever? You- I did you a favour by ending things first. I knew you were struggling to find a way to do it, so I did it first.”
The look on Richie’s face was nothing less than pure pain as he registered Eddie’s words. He shook his head, “What are you talking about? I wasn’t- who told you I was going to break up with you?”
Eddie froze up a little and he forced himself to think back, way back to when he had overheard the conversation Richie was having with a friend of his. The words were still bitter to think about and his heart hurt. “No-one told me. I heard you. On the phone. You were talking to someone about finding it hard to change your relationship status, and that you had to be really careful. I don’t know about you, Richie, but that screamed of wanting to break up with me. I just- I don’t know why you didn’t just tell me when things stopped working for you. I’d have understood. We weren’t...it wasn’t like we were public or anything.”
Richie blinked a few times and Eddie could see the moment when it all clicked for him. The confused look turned to one of understanding, but instead of looking guilty, Richie looked...overwhelmed.
“Eddie...holy shit...Eds, no. Fuck.” He stopped moving to the music and instead moved the hand that was on the small of Eddie’s back to his hand and took it in his own. “This is too public a place for this conversation. Five minutes, that’s all I need.”
Even if Eddie hadn’t wanted to follow Richie before then, the pleading look in his eyes was all it took for him to nod. He let Richie lead him off the dancefloor, out a door and into a hallway.
“How do you know where you’re going?” Eddie asked softly, letting Richie lead the way through the corridors of the hotel.
“I had a function here myself a while back, got a bit overwhelming so I went to explore,” Richie replied almost immediately, turning one more corner and opening a door that led to a balcony overlooking the city. “Found this place.” He closed the doors behind them, allowing total privacy, and Richie ran a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t going to break up with you.”
Out of all the things Eddie thought Richie was going to say, that was not even in the top ten. He blinked in confusion, looking a RIchie a little skeptically. “Alright, say you weren’t going to break up with me then. What did that statement really mean?”
Richie moved a little closer to Eddie, but not too close that he’d feel trapped. He reached down to take Eddie’s hand in his once more.
“I wanted to ask you to go public with me, Eds.”
Eddie suddenly felt sick to his stomach, as the look in Richie’s eyes, the sincerity, meant that he was telling the truth.
“I was just nervous because we were, as you pointed out earlier, not exclusive. I was technically your sugar daddy and we had sort of made that unspoken agreement that what we had was just...well what we had.” He squeezed Eddie’s hand, just a little bit, a soothing gesture. “Maybe it was just that at first, but then we started hanging out without the sex, we had movie nights and you’d spend the night just...chilling. We’d laugh and tease each other like it was a real relationship and suddenly that was all I wanted it to be. I wanted it to be real, but I was scared that maybe you didn’t want that. Then you broke it off with me and that sort of just...sealed it.”
The silence let Eddie know Richie was done speaking, letting him know it was his turn. His cheeks were burning red with embarrassment and he let out a frustrated groan at his own stupidity.
“I’m such a fucking idiot.” Eddie tried to step back, but Richie still had hold of his hand, keeping him grounded. “I’m such a fucking idiot, I was so caught up in thinking that you didn’t want to be with me anymore that I didn’t see the signs that maybe it was the total opposite. I can’t believe that I was that much of an idiot that I ruined the best thing I had in my life.” He looked up at Richie then, his eyes filling with tears, “Because you were, you were the best thing I had in my life. Nothing ever compared to the way you made me feel- make me feel- because I’m still crazy in love with you-”
Eddie didn’t get to finish his declaration of love as Richie swooped in fast, his arms securing themselves around Eddie’s waist as he hauled him forward, bringing their lips together in a long overdue kiss. A squeak of surprise left Eddie’s lips before it was replaced with a soft moan, his hands reaching up from where they were handing by his sides and weaving into Richie’s hair. It was just like the dreams Eddie had been having for months, except this time it wasn’t.
They pulled away after a few moments, the need to breathe too much to ignore and Eddie fell back onto his heels. Damn Richie and his height. Richie was grinning, tears clear in his eyes from behind his glasses. “I love you, too. I always have. You’re my perfect match and these six months without you? They’ve been torture.”
“I’m sorry,” Eddie breathed, his fingers clutching at the curls on the back of Richie’s neck. “I’m sorry for fucking up so badly and jumping to conclusions. I’m sorry for not just talking to you about it instead of...you know.”
Richie just shook his head and leaned down to press another, more gentle, kiss to Eddie’s lips.
“We can talk about it, over dinner maybe?” Richie suggested, a hand moving to cup Eddie’s cheek, thumb running over the skin under his eye. “We can discuss everything, lay all our cards on the table. What do you think?”
It was a good idea for them to talk it out before jumping into something with one another again, yet Eddie didn’t want to wait until the next night after dinner for Richie to take him to bed. He’d been without him for six months and now he knew Richie didn’t want to end their relationship and that he loved him, Eddie didn’t want to wait any longer. “I think it’s a great idea,” he breathed, moving his head up to Richie’s ear. “But...I also really want you to take me home,” he whispered and then added, just for clarification. “To your home.”
* * * * *
Richie’s apartment was just like Eddie remembered it, open space and filled with life. He hadn’t had the chance to properly look around the night before, his mind...and body both otherwise preoccupied. Now he was awake though, the bed next to him empty but still warm, which meant Richie hadn’t long since woke up.
Eddie sat up, stretching and groaning as his bones cracked before he climbed out of bed. He grabbed his underwear from the bedroom floor before pulling out one of Richie’s shirts from his drawer. As Eddie stepped out of the room, he could hear Richie’s voice filtering in from the kitchen area, clearly speaking to someone on the phone. He edged closer, peeking his head around the corner, and right enough Richie was on his phone, pacing back and forth.
“Something came up, but I’d be happy to meet with you on Monday morning, at the office,” Richie spoke. “We can talk business and sign contracts.” He looked up then, eyes meeting Eddie’s from across the room and he broke into a smile. “Mhm, yes that makes sense,” he spoke into his phone whilst beckoning Eddie closer with his finger.
With his own, equally large grin on his face, Eddie moved closer and stepped between Richie’s legs as he continued his call. The body heat was welcome and Eddie curled back into Richie’s embrace, taking a piece of toast from the plate in front of them and taking a bite.
“I have to go, I have other business to attend to. I’ll be at the office on Monday morning, 9am sharp and we can talk.” Richie hummed and the voice on the other end, muffled back before the call ended and the phone was shoved into Richie’s pocket. “Stealing my breakfast?”
“If you’re not fast, you’re last,” Eddie shrugged, dramatically taking another bite of the toast. “Was that my boss?” He asked.
Richie nodded, running a hand through his curls, curls that Eddie had messed up the night before. He shuddered and the memory. “Your boss is quite...forward. He wasn’t happy I ditched the party last night.” Richie shoved more toast into the toaster and set the timer, turning back to Eddie. “Do you have somewhere to be today?”
“Not unless you do,” Eddie hummed, wrapping his arms around Richie’s waist, seeking more of his body heat. “Anyway, aren’t we going out for dinner? To talk and stuff?” He looked up just as Richie looked down, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before Richie closed the distance with a soft kiss. “Mhm, morning.”
“Morning,” Richie breathed back, spinning Eddie around so he was pressed up against the counter. “Fuck I missed you, I missed you so much.”
Eddie’s stomach clenched, his eyes softening almost immediately as he glanced towards the floor in embarrassment. It was his fault after all, his fault that Richie had to miss him in the first place. He felt Richie’s fingers under his chin, tilting his head up so their eyes locked.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Richie spoke softly. “Please stop?” His head tilted to the side, curls falling loose and into his face. Eddie thought he was the most handsome man he’d even laid his eyes on. “Come back to bed?”
Richie stepped back and held out his hand, allowing Eddie to turn him down if he wanted to, always giving him that choice. Instead of Eddie’s stomach clenching in a bad way, this time it clenched in anticipation with what was to come.
Yes, they had to talk, sit down and have a conversation about their relationship and what they both wanted. Eddie was going to have to communicate with Richie, tell him everything about his past and why he had thought he was going to break up with him in the first place. The thought was terrifying, but Eddie wanted nothing more than to let Richie get to know him completely.
All that could wait though, until later.
Eddie smiled, reaching his hand out to take Richie’s, letting him lead him back to the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.
* * * * *
taglist
@s-s-georgie @richietoaster @jessiohhh @gazebobullshit @eds-trashmouth @thingsilike-08 @thoughtfullyyoungduck @stellar-alley @yallreddieforthis @lgbtqmads @ambitiousskychild @reddieonwheels @moonlightrichie @that-damn-clown-movie @ghostnebula @care-bear13 @madidraw @pieofepicness @transbuckaroo @vanillaredvelvet @toziertool @femmereddie @itchytoaster @eddiesasspbrak @eduardo-andale-lets-go @pinkmedusa6 @kmcarras @bowtiescarves @greetingsfromderrymaine @eduardoandale @waterflowrr @jojobeaner @mahanawhonahan @dinolaur @viciousmaukeries @sunshines-fabulous-legs @reddie-forever @sophiac356 @are-you-reddie-for-it @liilaac @no-she-wasnt-reddie @gaymoonfan @selma318697 @reddie-4-more @ratbird0917 @adhdtozier @tozierpunks
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Shadowhunters Fandom Story - Part Fifteen
Submitted by jwrites_
Five Favourite Fics:
1. What's It Gonna Be by @lemonoclefox
Why I love this fic: I'm a sucker for Pride & Prejudice. San was able to take that dynamic and put it all in a modern day telling of it. I can't count how many times I've read this. Sometimes I read it all the way through, other times I go and find my favorite parts just to get that rush of emotions it never fails to give. The enemies to lovers is done perfectly, the dialogue is great and flows seamlessly, the way she tied in the storyline between Simon, Isabelle, Valentine, and Alec together was genius. I truly love every word of this story.
Favorite scene: Awkward - love - confession - in - the - rain
Favorite quote(s):
(Yes. Love confessions are great but have you ever overheard someone say something rude about you and then have the opportunity later that same night to be able to casually call that person out for their comment?)
"Her friend is..." He trails off, as though searching for the word, and Magnus can imagine him gesturing in the meantime. "Interesting," Jace eventually settles on, pointedly.
"Who, that Bane guy?" Alec says, and as he does, Magnus is hit with a wave of intrigued surprise. Does Alec like men? Interesting. The assumption could be wrong, of course, but Jace's tone implies that that's why he's mentioning it. "He's a bit over the top, don't you think?"
He sounds almost disdainful as he says it, as though Jace's mere suggestion is laughable, and Magnus's intrigue immediately shifts to offended annoyance. He straightens a little where he stands, reluctantly affected by it.
--
"I mean, love songs are great," Magnus admits lightly. "But stringing a few pretty words together does seem a bit unoriginal when everyone does it."
Simon shoves him lightly in offense, and Magnus can't help but laugh.
"Then what do you suggest?" Magnus is taken completely by surprise when he realizes that it's Alec who's speaking, and he turns to him. The guy's expression is neutral, but seems genuinely curious.
"Oh, I don't know," Magnus says, swirling his drink around in his glass. He shrugs. "I suppose I'm more a fan of showing and not telling. I'd much prefer someone showing interest in what I like and who I am, than comparing my eyes to the night sky, and whatnot." He gestures airily, then hesitates. He suddenly can't seem to stop himself, the memory of the Lightwoods' overheard conversation bubbling to the surface. "I think most people can appreciate that. Even if some of us are a bit over the top."
--Okay...I'm gonna go ahead and throw in a love confession~
"Look, I don't expect anything from you," he says, as though the words are hard to say. "You've made your feelings pretty clear, and I respect that. But I heard you talked to my mom, and with the stuff you said to her... I guess it just kind of made me a bit hopeful, or something. A bit." He clears his throat, while Magnus just listens. He turns to watch Alec's profile as the young man struggles to find the words, eyes on the view in front of him. "Either way, I'll admit that how I feel hasn't really changed. Maybe it should have, but..."
Alec shakes his head, and Magnus feels his throat go dry. He wants to interrupt Alec, wants to say and show everything that's bursting out of his chest, but he waits. Alec takes a deep breath then, turns to him. He looks determined.
"If you want me to," he says steadily, "I'll go. I'll leave you alone, I promise. You won't hear from me again." He pauses, licks his lips. "But if you don't want me to, if something has changed since last time, somehow... I'd really like to know. Because that would be pretty great."
2. 42 North 71 West by @lecrit
Why I love this fic: I was blessed with the opportunity to witness Lu working on this fic from its conception to its end. I was there and still I am blown away at the way she was able to work the time jumps. I remember thinking with every chapter I read, 'Wow. The way she is telling this story is amazing. She is amazing.' Lu has a way of presenting so much honesty in her characters. She writes them in a way that feels so real, that you can't help but understand their fears and hesitations even though it hurts. The story is a back and forth told through scenes set in the past and present. You get to see what they were and where they are. The story is beautifully heartbreaking. And she was able to make me enjoy a story that dealt with politics? What? Sorcery, I tell you. -- also, the bench.
Favorite scene: This was almost impossible to choose and I took way too long trying to pinpoint just one. But I'm going to go with one that I hold very dear. When Magnus goes to visit Alec on his birthday and he finds Alec playing the song he only plays when he's sad. That's all I'm going to say because I don't want to spoil~
Favorite quote(s):
“Magnus,” Alec breathes out.
The name feels almost foreign, as if he hadn’t uttered it in too long and now his mind is troubling to catch up with his mouth. Still, it manages to make Alec’s heart stutter.
--
“We should’ve stayed on that bench in Boston,” he murmurs.
--
The good thing is, he knows where to go to find his way back. It is inked on his body, engraved into his soul, sealed into his heart.
3. Lead The Way by Clockworkswan
Why I love this fic: Because it takes the wonderful adventure of Doctor Who and packs it in with Malec. This is the ultimate fun and feel good but you will also cry at one point fic. I always go back to it if I want a wonderfully written Doctor Magnus and his adorable companion Alec. Seriously, even if you're not into Doctor Who, give this fic a shot. It's written in a way that you will get so caught up in the adventure that you won't even realize it's based on something else. And if you're a Doctor Who fan, you're in luck with all the little Easter Eggs Heather left throughout.
Favorite scene: I really don't want to spoil anything. The planet of Ablorix. This will mean nothing if you don't read the fic (so you should ;])
Favorite quote(s):
Magnus extends a hand. It’s just like before, when they were in the hallway a couple of weeks ago. It’s just as inviting as it was the first time.
“How about it, pretty boy? Name a star. Any one will do. Or a date,” Magnus says. The double meaning is evident when he winks. He pauses then, and his expression shifts, growing solemn.
A clear shift in his demeanour happens. Magnus turns from playful to sincere in the blink of an eye. Although, there was also a serious tone to it. Magnus looks at him, and understanding eyes meet Alec’s hesitant ones. “Alexander, you seem like a man in need of a break, and I am very much a man in need of a friend. Adventures are always a quick way in figuring out what you want. What do you say?”
What does he say?
He says yes.
Of course Alec does.
--
Before Magnus can think of a good retort, he tries to ignore the clenching ache his stomach gives at the sight of a confident, smirking Alec Lightwood watching him so openly. He settles for pointing in a random direction. “I have to go and see a dog about a man. Meet back here in five?”
“Uh, isn’t the expression, ‘see a man about a dog’?”
“Not when the dog ran off with the man’s wife. A rather big scandal, it seems. The president wants me to try and step in. Smooth things over, so to speak.”
At that, Alec just stares blankly.
Magnus holds up a finger. “Yes, this is normal for me. No, you may not come along. Go.”
4. Love & Other Drugs prequel of Our Love Is A Harsh Chord in the Semi-charmed Kind Life series by @la-muerta
Why I love this fic: I'm kind of cheating here by listing two fics but they're a package deal. Love & Other Drugs was a smutty one-shot that left me wanting
more...
backstory. Let me tell you the pining and 'unrequited' love between those two demanded a story to be written. Which is why when la_muerta ran a poll on whether or not she should start it or another series first, I campaigned for this one like it was my job (I lost but I still got the series eventually so did I really lose?) The writing in this and with all of la_muerta's fics will hook you. The sadness over the back and forth between them is done so well. It's angst that will grip you and hold onto you until you eventually finish. Just go on the twitter hashtag of #OLIAHCfic and see my screaming.
Favorite scene: Probably the LSD scene.
Favorite quote(s):
Alec was still here, in bed with him.
How many times had Magnus wished that he could wake up with Alec in his arms? He didn't dare to move, wanting the dream to last a little longer, but Alec was already stirring.
--
he'll wonder if life would be a little easier if he wasn't hopelessly in love with Magnus, but it is a fact of who he is now: Alec Lightwood is 6'3, has dark hair, is gay, and is in love with Magnus Bane.
--
They are lying next to each other now, turned on their sides and face to face. The world is no longer warped and weird, but glowing and perfect. Magnus is tracing a path of lightning down Alec's body with his fingertips, and in a moment of clarity Alec understands that in Magnus' eyes he is as beautiful as he thinks Magnus is (it is the first thing Alec forgets when he wakes up sober later).
--
Words aren't enough to express how he feels, but they've always understood each other better when clumsy words don't get in the way.
5. The Lonely Hearts Hotline by @unrestrainedlyexcessive
Why I love this fic: It's funny, it's endearing, it's heart wrenching, it's sexy, etc. The way Alec is written in this fic is one of my favorite characterizations. The way his situation can resonate with so many young adults today. That feeling when you're an adult and you feel like you should know what to do with your life and who you should be but the truth is, you're still just as lost as always. Being an adult sucks tbh and even when you're an adult, sometimes life doesn't quite feel like it. Alec's character and growth in this fic is beautiful. (I also really loved Jace in this fic)
Favorite scene: A tough choice. Probably the office party and follow up scene in Magnus' office.
Favorite quote(s):
The problem with being a new grad, in general, is that the world and job force demands you have experience, but you have to live a certain number of productive years on the planet to gain that experience.
Early adulthood is no man's land. You don’t have the experience to matter and no one wants to pay you to gain it, hence how he ended up in the precarious situation he’s in: dodgy sex work by night, an even dodgier roommate, and desperately hoping an internship eventually turns into an actual paying job.
--
Magnus runs his tongue down the knobs of Alec's spine. "You're so beautiful," he says, pausing.
"I'm really not," Alec insists, eyes fluttering closed.
"Why are you so kind to everyone except yourself?"
"I'm a work in progress."
"Aren't we all?"
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Neighborly (mgk!Tommy Lee x Reader) Part 6
SUMMARY: After a full day of trying to win your affections back, you finally agree to let Tommy take you on a date. With Tommy planning the whole thing, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. Can Tommy actually convince you he’s in love, or is it all just for show?
word count: 6,556
[Warnings: swearing, body image, little bit of angst, a lot of cavity-inducing fluff, language, drug and alcohol mention/usage.]
NOTE: It’s finally here! As an apology for such a long wait, this chapter is extra long and should have plenty of first date fluff to get you by until Part 7. If y’all have any ideas for shenanigans that reader and the boys can get into, please share them with me! I have a tentative plan for the next portion (which you all can probably guess hehehe), but some inspo would be great appreciated. Love you crazy kids!
P.S. feedback is greatly appreciated, so please let me know what you think!
tags: @kwyloz, @scarecrowmax, @lavendersoundbarrier, @stevenandsam, @totallynotkaibiased, @rogertaylur, @fatheadtheroger, @secretly-a-groupie, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @abbysdogcollar, @dirtysixxers, @black-tights-black-heart, @valentines-in-london, @colsonbakersnoseringmain, @hxllywood-whxre, @ccidk, @sharon6713, @myshakespeareandarling, @moon-beame, @carmineharry, @2dead2function, @lauravic, @amusicalprostituttee, @lululovesgwtw
permanent tags: @colsonbakersnoseringmain, @kingbouji3, @lululovesgwtw
When tomorrow finally rolls around, you have a difficult time taming the butterflies fluttering around inside your stomach. Tommy will be coming to pick you up any minute now, and you still had no idea what to wear or what to expect.
In all honesty, you can’t remember the last time you went on a proper date. Dates were all about impressing people and getting them to like you, but everything about yours and Tommy’s budding relationship seemed to be working backwards.
Rushing around the apartment, you leave a trail of abandoned garments and makeup in your wake. No part of you is willing to admit how much you actually like Tommy, but your frantic movements tell a different story. Even though you have a way of making Tommy nervous, too, nothing seems to compare to the way he makes you squirm with excitement and self-doubt. You have to do something to even the playing field.
Digging through the bottom drawer of your dresser, you come across an obnoxious, leopard print bikini that you bought on dare back home. It’s definitely more revealing than anything you’d normally wear, but something tells you it would do just the trick. You bite your lip and scan the room nervously, suddenly afraid the walls might have eyes. Seeing Tommy’s jacket lingering in a heap on the floor, an idea suddenly pops into your head.
Against your comfortability, you decide to go for the tiny bikini, knowing full well that Tommy is going to be tripping all over himself when he sees you. Feeling adventurous, you decide to wear it with just a pair of cut-off shorts and slip Tommy’s baggy, leather jacket over your shoulders. For good luck, you apply a layer of bright red lipstick. The taste reminds you of the night Tommy kissed you at your dining table. Perfect.
Sure, it might be hot in L.A.– but you are determined to look even hotter.
You’re completely engrossed in teasing your hair when Tommy knocks at the door. Before you can even put down the comb and invite him in, he’s already halfway across the threshold. You roll your eyes, wondering how in the hell he got so comfortable barging in.
Oh, right– because you let him.
“Hey, Y/N! Ready to get out of here?”
Running your hands through your hair, you step out of your room to meet Tommy. He turns his head at the sound of your footsteps, jaw nearly falling off the hinges when he catches sight of you. You wait for him to say something but he just stares, blue eyes wide and unblinking.
“Yeah, uh, let me just grab my sunglasses,” you say awkwardly, pushing past him to retrieve them from the dining table. As you move, you can practically feel Tommy’s stunned gaze boring into your back. A wry smile tugs at your lips.
You turn to look at him, “What’s the matter, drummer boy? Do I have something on my face?”
A blush immediately colors his cheeks as he averts his eyes in embarrassment, trying to focus on anything in the room that isn’t you. “No! I, uh, you just– you just look really good is all.”
“I know,” you wink, nudging your shoulder against his arm playfully, “and you’re definitely not getting this jacket back.”
“Wouldn’t dream of asking,” he grins.
Instinctively, you go to grab your truck keys off their hook by the door, figuring it would just be easier if you drove. Tommy catches your wrist before you can reach them and shakes his head.
“Nah, baby, that won’t be necessary,” Tommy digs in the pocket of his denim shorts and pulls out a set of car keys, dangling them in front of your face triumphantly. “Mick’s working on some songs with Nikki today so he lent me his car.”
“Mick lent you his car?”
Tommy just shrugs, “Why is it so hard to believe? He’s my friend...uh, I think.”
You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips, and jump up to ruffle the drummer’s hair playfully. He tries to push you away and fails, instead grabbing you by the waist to drag you over the threshold and out of the door.
“Hand ‘em over, Lee. I’m still driving,” you laugh, not wanting to let him off the hook that easily.
Tommy looks at you defiantly, “Race you for them.”
Without any hesitation, you shove past Tommy and head straight for the car. The two of you bound down the stairs, giggling breathlessly in a race to see who can get there first. Tommy wins, of course. His long limbs allow him to go at least twice as fast as you’re able– but you don’t mind. The only thing that matters is that he doesn’t just let you win. You don’t want him to. Not now, and not ever.
When you finally catch up to Tommy, you find yourself too dizzy and giddy with laughter to even pretend to be upset that he’d beaten you.
“Ready to hit the bricks, baby girl?” Tommy grins, ducking into the driver’s side of Mick’s beat up car.
“I’m ready when you are, drummer boy,” you say. Unlike your truck, you’re thankful to find that Mick’s car has working air conditioning. However, that doesn’t stop you old habit of fastening your seatbelt and cranking down the passenger side window, inevitably letting in the warm summer air.
The California sunshine bathes your legs in rays of golden heat, drawing you attention back to the fact that Tommy still hasn’t told you where he’s taking you. While your bathing suit and the summer sun should be a dead giveaway– you decide not to spoil all the fun.
“So Tommy,” you smile, poking his arm gently as he pulls out of the drive, “where exactly is this mystery date, hmmm?”
“Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to the beach dude!” Tommy accelerates out of the parking lot and onto the open road, tires screaming into a cloud of dust behind the car. There’s not a single doubt in your mind that Mick will recognize the tire marks streaking the pavement later. You snicker as Tommy tries to conceal the cringe on his face.
“Oooh,” you taunt, “someone’s going to be in trouble.”
“Am not,” Tommy says defensively. He slides his sunglasses down over his eyes, allowing his mop of wavy hair to fall in his face once again. A single, chain earring catches the light in the midst of Tommy’s hair, the cross charm at the end glittering and sparkling as it moves in the breeze.
“Are, too.”
As you and Tommy cruise through the streets of Los Angeles, you can’t help but become mesmerized by him once again. He grips the steering wheel with a single hand, the muscles of his long arms rippling beneath his tanned skin. Everything about Tommy radiates warmth, and the longer you exist in his natural glow, the more you feel like you feel like you’re dreaming.
Eventually the silence is too much for Tommy’s hyperactive brain and he turns on the radio, eyes briefly meeting yours over the top of his sunglasses.
“What are you looking at, pretty girl?” he smirks.
You blush at the pet name, suddenly feeling as though you never want to hear another voice call you pretty again if it isn’t his. More than anything, you want to come back with something clever. Something that won’t let Tommy know that he’s becoming a weak point for you.
“You,” you reply, the single word falling from your lips before you can stop yourself.
So much for subtlety.
A broad smile breaks across Tommy’s face, and for a moment it seems that he might be blushing even more than you are. With his free hand, he reaches into your lap and weaves his fingers through yours. His thumb rubs small circles over your own, making the physical connection between the two of you feel as if it were meant to happen all along. Although Tommy’s hands are calloused from years of playing the drums, his touch is soft and gentle.
“Just you wait,” Tommy says smugly, eyes fixed on the palm-lined streets in front of him, “I’ll make you mine before you know it.”
...
When you and Tommy finally arrive at the beach, you’re surprised to find that he has pretty much planned everything down to the last detail. Nestled in the back of Mick’s trunk is a beach blanket, towels, a cooler, and a large umbrella. Try as you may to help Tommy unload the car, he only allows you to carry the beach towels– and even that had been a fight.
The two of you eventually stake out a spot off the beaten path, far away from the droves of obnoxious tourists and screaming children. As you get to work laying out the towel and staking the umbrella, you can’t help but become a little distracted by how beautiful of a day it is. The sky is bluer than you’ve ever seen it, and the crash of the waves in the distance is something you’ve been longing to hear since you planned your move to California.
As soon as you’re content with yours and Tommy’s set up, you shed your shorts and leather jacket, allowing them to fall in a heap on the corner of the blanket. You hum and stretch as your skin soaks in the glorious rays of sunshine, reveling in the salty air around you. The sound of Tommy shuffling over with the cooler breaks your relaxed trance and you turn to look at him.
Tommy’s staring at you again, eyes wide and mouth agape. You’re confused at first, but soon recall your choice to wear the tiniest bikini you own. For the first time since you met Tommy, you don’t blush. You’ve got him right where you want him.
“Beautiful,” he sighs, appearing as though even the slightest breeze would knock him to the ground. He has the same dreamy expression on his face now as he did the night he first uttered the word to you. Then, he had been pumped full of alcohol and soaked in blood– but now, he seems more sincere than ever.
“The weather?” you ask, feigning innocence, “It is beautiful isn’t it?”
“Uh–yeah. Yeah! The weather, it is, um, beautiful,” Tommy stammers, “the weather, the day–all of it. Sorry, I didn’t mean–”
“Thank you,” you interrupt, giving him another small peck on the cheek. If you aren’t careful, pretty soon giving Tommy little kisses here and there will become a force of habit.
Fuck it, you think, why the hell shouldn’t it?
Leaving the drummer speechless, you pull your sunglasses down over your eyes and recline lazily on the blanket. Eventually, Tommy snaps out of his trance and begins noisily digging around through the cooler again.
“What’s in there?” you ask, eyebrow raised.
Tommy reaches in and pulls out a beer. Holding it by the bottle’s neck he points it in your direction, gesturing for you to take it. “Beer! Oh and some snacks, too.”
You accept Tommy’s offering and take a look inside the cooler for yourself. Among the ice and beer bottles, a pastel pink tupperware container sticks out to you. Of all the things you had seen in the Crüe apartment, a cutesy set of tupperware surely wasn’t on the list.
“ And this?” You look over at Tommy for an answer, but he’s busy prying off the beer bottle cap with his teeth.
The cap tears off the bottle with a loud pop as Tommy casually spits its remains onto the sand by your feet. “Oh that?” Tommy replies, smiling sheepishly, “actually my mom made that.”
“Your mom?” you ask, feeling your heart melt ever so slightly, “When did you see your mom?”
“Yesterday,” Tommy smiles sweetly, his eyes drifting off in the direction of the ocean waves lapping at the shore. “The moment I thought you might give me another chance after–well, you know–I had to ask her how to fix it.”
Even though thinking back on that night still leaves a bad taste in your mouth, you can feel your heart swell at the thought that Tommy would ask his family about how to make it all better. Maybe you are important to him after all.
“Does your family live around here?”
“Kinda. They live out in the ‘burbs, which can feel like forever away,” Tommy replies, “Remember when I called you? I was actually waiting for my ride back to the city.”
Deciding not to pry anymore, you pick up the container and try to see if you can get a read on what might be in it. “You still haven’t answered my question, drummer boy,” you smile, “What’s inside?”
Tommy gently pulls it from your grasp and pops open the lid. Inside are two triangle shaped pastries, both of which are golden brown and glistening with a layer of honey.
“It’s baklava,” Tommy grins, “My mom’s from Greece so she thinks that food can fix everything.”
“You’ll have to thank her for me,” you say, feeling pleasantly overwhelmed by the kind gesture of a woman you hadn’t even met. Tommy’s constant displays of affection and generosity didn’t seem to be as much of a mystery now.
Tommy tips his beer back and takes a swig. “Don’t worry,” he says, “I’m sure you’ll get to tell her yourself.”
As the summer sun starts to slowly dip into the horizon, you and Tommy decide to pack up the car and take a walk along the beach. A comfortable silence sits between the two of you as you walk, your hands almost close enough to touch. After a day of sunbathing and chatting, it’s nice to just exist among each other. The more time you spend around Tommy, the more you find yourself feeling completely at home when he’s around.
While Tommy has a lot of energy for partying and playing music, he also uses that energy to listen to you talk about the things you love. He’s the only person you’ve ever met that actually listens to what you’re saying, rather than just waiting for their turn to talk. It’s almost as if he wants to study everything about you and commit it to memory. Even now, with conversation being replaced by the lapping of the waves, you could feel Tommy’s eyes on you as you shift forward through the sand.
As the beach becomes bathed in a dreamy purple and orange glow, the pier that you and Tommy have been meandering towards starts to glitter with artificial light. The closer you get, sounds of laughter and carousel music can be heard over the shriek of the gulls circling overhead. A ferris wheel spins lazily against the sky, and your stomach flutters at the thought of being up so high. It’s not the fear of heights that makes you uneasy, it’s the fear of falling.
“What’s going on over there?” you ask, turning to Tommy with childlike wonder sparkling in your eyes.
“That’s the pier, dude! It’s got all kinds of games and rides– wanna go?” Tommy flashes you a boyish grin, and holds out his hand.
When you look at Tommy, it’s as if time stops and the only thing in motion is the both of you. Nothing else matters when you take a dip into his ocean eyes, and you find yourself wondering:
Is this love?
The thought tears through all the layers of caution tape you had been stringing up in your mind. After all of the weird things Tommy had brought crashing into your life, you were supposed to be guarding your heart– but all you find yourself wanting to do is hand it over to the boy in front of you. Even if it bleeds.
Taking Tommy’s hand, you allow a goofy smile to take over your face. While a single date doesn’t mean that you and Tommy will be together forever, for just a minute you want to let yourself believe that it’s possible. All you ever wanted in life was to be in control, and somehow Tommy makes you forget that tomorrow is even something worth worrying about. Tommy brings out the carefree side of you, and you wouldn’t mind if she came out to play more often. Before you know it, you’re smiling like you won the lottery.
With a newfound energy, you and Tommy race from the dusky shoreline and up towards the pier. Much like your race to the car early that afternoon, you and Tommy are enveloped in a breathless fit of giggles as soon as you reach the top. Passersby gawk as Tommy picks you up and spins you around, the carnival lights melting into the emerging stars above.
Tommy sets you back down on your feet, careful to keep his hands hovering over your waist to steady your balance. “Where to first, sweet thing?”
After a view short spurts of vertigo, you’re able to take a look around. With all the flashing lights and colorful displays, it’s hard for you to focus on just one thing at a time. Across the way, you catch sight of an old-fashioned shooting gallery complete with red targets and bee-bee gun rifles. All along the booth’s back wall and upper perimeter are clusters of teddy bears in an assortment of shapes and sizes. You eyes widen as they land on a fluffy pink teddy, its head lolling to the side to reveal a glossy pair of black, buttoned eyes.
“Come on, drummer,” you giggle, tugging on his hand, “this way!”
Tommy complies, allowing you to pull him along with the love-stricken smile never leaving his face. At the counter, he fishes two quarters out of his pocket and tosses them at the timid preteen manning the station. The kid plucks a rifle off of the back wall and instinctively gives it to Tommy, who is more than eager to take it.
“So which one am I shooting for?” Tommy asks, carelessly swiveling the rifle around the booth and gesturing at the bears hanging overhead. The young carnival worker all but ducks for cover as the gun points in his direction, his braces shining through the nervous grimace on his face.
You reach across the counter to place your hand on the rifle’s barrel, gently nudging its nose towards the ground. Tommy, finally realizing the implications of his actions mutters a soft, “sorry dude” in the kid’s general direction.
“Who said I wanted you to shoot for me?” you challenge, hand still firmly resting on the end of the bee bee gun.
“Oh come on,” Tommy whines, “I’ve always wanted to shoot one of these but my parents would never let me.”
“Gee, I can’t imagine why,” you chuckle. Tommy is barely out of his teens, and you have no doubt in your mind that his reckless nature is still very much an extension of his adolescence.
“Please, Y/N?” Tommy’s begging is all too familiar, his pout mirroring all the times he hung defeated in your doorframe over the past few weeks.
You roll your eyes, unable to conceal your soft spot for Tommy’s adorable pout. As you tilt your head upwards, the plush, pink teddy bear catches your attention once again. An idea flickers into your head and you turn to Tommy with a broad smile.
“Fine,” you relent, “but I bet you can’t get that one.”
Tommy looks up at the pink bear suspended above your head, his eyes bright with competitive spirit. Judging by the size and quality of the bear compared to the ones around it, there is no doubt in either of your minds that it’s a top prize.
“Oh yeah? And what do I get if I do, huh?” Tommy takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours as he towers above you. An unignorable electric current runs between the two of you, and for a moment all you can think about is how much you’re itching to close the space.
“Depends on what you want,” you shrug, trying the ignore the way your heart is frantically pounding against your ribcage. You know that letting Tommy ask for whatever he wants is a gamble, but you’re a good enough shot to hope that it wouldn’t matter.
Tommy grins confidently, “Another date, duh.”
Your heart softens like candy in the sun, and the sincerity in Tommy’s eyes is just as sweet. From what you knew of the guys back home, any of them would have used your bet as an opportunity to be gross. Yet here Tommy is, simply asking to just have more of your time.
I was in love with you from the moment I saw you.
Tommy’s words replay in your head like a cassette tape burning from the inside out. You ignore the pesky memories of Tommy shotgunning smoke into a groupie’s mouth in favor of the first time you caught sight of him, smoking and waving on the balcony.
“Unbelievable,” you find yourself chuckling under your breath, knowing full well it won’t be the last time. “You sure that’s what you wanna shoot for, pretty boy?”
Tommy nearly lets the rifle slip through his grip as the pet name graces his ears, face turning red hot. “F-fine,” he stammers, trying to regain control of the situation, “I guess I’ll take the bear, too.”
You feign a gasp of astonishment, hand flying up to clutch your breastbone. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Tommy winks, “There’s two things I don’t turn down, baby. Bets and dares.”
“Whatever,” you smirk, “but I keep the bear and you take me on the ferris wheel.”
“Ladies first,” Tommy replies, stepping aside so that you have a full view of the gallery. Tommy tosses two more quarters at the kid, who eagerly scrambles to shove a second rifle into your hands. You take it confidently, its weight reminding you of all those summer days back home where there was nothing to do but shoot cans off of the back porch.
Filled with determination, you take a step back and situate the rifle’s stock in the divet of your shoulder. Closing one eye, you align the sight with one of the bright red targets ahead, your finger curling around the trigger in anticipation. All it takes is three bullseyes to win, and you already know Tommy has signed himself up for a losing bet.
With one last look at Tommy, you pull the trigger and fire three shots. Each bee bee connects with the center of the targets in quick succession, and land with a hollow thud to the floor.
Tommy and the boy behind the counter stare at you, mouths completely unhinged with disbelief.
“You can still take the shot if you want,” you comment as you set the rifle down on the counter, “but I believe the bear is mine.”
Tommy should be sinking with defeat, but instead he swells with pride and adoration. His rifle hits the counter noisily as he gestures for the kid to go and retrieve the pink bear. The timid boy hands it over, most likely thankful to be free of your antics for the night.
Tommy holds the bear out to you and pulls one of its arms forward, making it look as though the bear wants to go in for a firm handshake.
“Joint custody?” Tommy asks behind the fuzzy wall of pink fur.
You take the teddy bear’s arm in your hand and give it a good shake, all the while laughing at the outrageousness of it all.
“For being such a good sport? You bet,” you smile, “Now how about that ferris wheel?”
...
The two of you never make it to the ferris wheel, but you don’t mind. There is way too much to do and see, and Tommy can’t help but be pulled toward anything with flashing lights– which just so happens to be everything. First, Tommy drags you through the haunted funhouse, the two of you giggling and screeching with the giant, pink teddy bear sandwiched in the middle. Next is an impromptu skee-ball tournament that ends with Tommy nearly knocking himself out with stray ball, but winning regardless.
As a reward, you show Tommy the secret, feminine art of batting your eyelashes to get favors and free stuff. Tommy observes in amazement as, after minutes of flirting with the guy behind the counter, you return with two fluffy clouds of blue cotton candy on striped, paper cones.
“You’re amazing,” he gapes, and you do what you can to hide your red face behind the orb of spun sugar. Tommy notices your bashfulness, but elects not to tease you about it. He just plucks at his cotton candy and stares off into space with a smirk that just won’t quit.
After a brief sugar high and a few rounds of Galaga and Ms. Pac Man at the arcade, a massive yawn involuntarily swallows your face.
“You ready to hit the road, sleepyhead?”
You nod in response, allowing your body to lean comfortably against the side of Tommy’s. He seems surprised by your sudden display of casual affection, but happily slings an arm around your shoulders anyway.
Trekking back to Mick’s car, you remain glued to Tommy. Despite being firmly wrapped in his jacket, the breeze is cool against your bare legs as it drifts off the ocean, making you shiver. He smiles into your hair, teddy bear dangling from his free hand. You hate to admit it, but even if you were victorious in the bet earlier– Tommy is still winning.
You finally reach the car, thankful to finally sit down and rest your legs. Pulling your knees up, you rest your feet on the dash and giggle as leftover sand sprinkles the floorboards. Mick is sure to kill Tommy later.
“What’s got you all giddy?” Tommy asks, his body twisted towards you as he backs out of the beach parking lot.
You sigh, loving the way that the orange street lights caress the shadow beneath Tommy’s sloping cheekbone. His skin a toasty bronze color from a full day in the sun, but the shine in his baby blue eyes makes you feel like it never set.
“Just–thank you, Tommy.”
He flashes a smile, eyes darting in your direction. “For what?”
“Everything.”
Tommy turns his head, looking at you as if you’d hung the moon and the stars in the sky. You’re just about to tell him to cut it out, when you attention is caught by the flash of headlights shining through the windshield.
“Fuck, Tommy! Watch the road!”
Swerving abruptly to the right, Tommy barely dodges the vehicle hurtling forward in the opposite lane. Regaining control of the car, Tommy clutches the wheel with white knuckles. The both of you are panting, unable to believe that you aren’t just splatters against the pavement. After a few more moments of anxiety and relief coursing through your veins, you lock eyes with Tommy for a brief moment again, this time erupting into a fit of hysterical laughter.
Tommy swipes tears of mirth away from his eyes with a free hand while you sputter out a few more giggles, clutching your aching stomach.
“Dude we almost fucking died,” you wheeze, still grinning so hard it felt like your face might split.
“But we didn’t,” Tommy argues playfully, “Although, if we wreck Mick’s car, the accident better kill me. I don’t even want to know what he’d do to me if I lived.”
“Oh please, even if you did die Mick would just use his alien powers to bring you back and kill you again.”
You kick your feet back up on the dashboard and recline in the passenger’s seat, finally feeling that it’s safe to relax. All the while Tommy shivers at the thought of Mick finding ways to torture him for all eternity.
“What happened to you back there, anyway?” you ask, recalling the way that Tommy seemed to become completely entranced by you just moments before unconsciously drifting into oncoming traffic.
Tommy shrugs, suddenly looking bashful under the moonlight as it flits in and out of view. “I froze up,” he says honestly, sounding as though he doesn’t fully understand it himself.
“What can I say?” he continues, eyes never leaving the road, “it’s what you do to me.”
Your heart jumps in your chest at Tommy’s admission and you suddenly feel as though you’re staring up at the ferris wheel again, bringing you to a painful realization:
You’re falling in love.
...
When you and Tommy finally get back to the apartment building, he insists on walking you up to your door like a “true gentleman”. You try to argue against it– saying that it’s only a short walk up– but he’s persistent as always.
With feet firmly planted on the welcome mat, you stare up at Tommy, fighting the urge to kiss him right then and there. You know he most definitely wouldn’t object, but this was technically yours and Tommy’s first date. You never kiss on the first date, even if you had kissed him only days ago.
Just as you turn to unlock the door, Tommy catches your arm gently. “Can I see you again?”
“I’ll allow it,” you smirk, secretly hoping he comes back to invade your space sooner rather than later. It is Tommy, after all, you know he won’t be able to stay away for long.
You duck into your musty old apartment, feeling much more content than the last time you left Tommy out in the darkness on your doorstep. After splashing some water on your face and giving your teeth a good scrub, you settle into bed. Your skin is still warm from soaking in the sunshine, and you end up falling asleep before your head even gets the chance to hit the pillow.
Your peaceful slumber doesn’t last for long, though. A few hours in, you start to stir, the sound of something pecking at your window intruding your muddied dreams and shaking you awake.
What the fuck?
The tapping continues, and as you become more conscious you realize it sounds like something hitting your window. Just as you’re about to get up and investigate, a rock comes soaring through the glass, shattering the window into a thousand jagged pieces. You bolt upright, your groggy mind unsure of how to process the the lone rock sitting at the edge of your bed in a pile of sparkling glass.
“Goddamnit,” a familiar voice hisses from outside.
Throwing the covers haphazardly off your body, you stumble over to the window, tiptoeing in an effort to avoid all the glass littering the floor. Sticking your head out of the busted window, you see Tommy standing outside next to Mick’s car. His hands are knotted through his hair with panic and it suddenly dawns on you that he’s the culprit.
“Tommy?” you ask stupidly, “Did you just bust my fucking window?”
“Uh, would you be mad if I said yes?” he calls up to you, cringing with embarrassment.
“I can tell you that I’ll be furious if you lie to me, how does that sound?”
You don’t have to be near him to know he’s swallowing the knot in his throat. After such a successful date, you actually thought you and Tommy might reach a point of steady normalcy– and now this.
Flaring with anger at his lack of explanation, you pluck the rock up off the floor and launch it in his general direction. Thankfully, you miss, but the action is enough to effectively get his attention.
“Whatever,” you spit, eye practically twitching with agitation, “I’m going to bed and you are fixing this tomorrow.”
As soon as you duck your head back inside, Tommy calls to you from the ground. “Wait! Don’t go yet– I can explain!”
Reluctantly, you face him again with one eyebrow raised in doubt. “Okay, this oughta be good.”
“I just–” he starts, voice so quiet you have to strain to hear him, “I just wanted to see you again, okay? I read this book–Romeo and Julia, or whatever–and the guy threw rocks at his girl’s window to get her attention, so I thought it might be cool to do for you…”
Tommy is kicking pebbles across the dirt, unable to meet your stare for fear of what you might say. Little does he know that there’s a fire burning in your chest, but it’s the farthest thing from anger.
“You’re insane!” you shout, undoubtedly waking the whole neighborhood, “and I’m not your girl.” You try to make your voice sound firm, but Tommy can see the smile threatening to tear your face wide open.
Tommy takes a step forward, regaining some of his confidence. “Not insane, just romantic,” he fidgets with a rock in his hand as he stares up at you, eyes glimmering with hope.
“Oh is that what we’re calling now?” you know that any normal person would have either gone back to bed or called the cops by now, but you can’t seem to pull yourself away from Tommy’s adoring smile. “You know they die at the end right? Romeo and Juliet?”
“Will you please just let me inside so we can talk about it?”
You huff and rub the sleep from your eyes, “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
“How could I sleep when you’re all I think about?” Tommy’s hands clutch at his chest as he speaks, pouring his heart out like a true Romeo. “I’m going out of my mind, Y/N. You make me wanna howl at the fucking moon!”
You have to hold you face in your hands to keep the dorky grin from taking over your face. Tommy’s right– he is out of his mind.
“Okay fine! I believe you!” you laugh, unsure if the situation is actually amusing or if the lack of sleep is taking over. “Now stop being a clown and get inside.”
“For real?”
You roll your eyes, “Who else is going to clean up all this glass?”
Unsurprisingly, Tommy bounds up the stairs anyway. At this point, you could probably tell Tommy the whole building is on fire and he would still be just as eager to come up and see you. It’s as endearing as it is frustrating, but there’s something about the whole situation that’s just so Tommy.
You barely have time to move away from the window before you hear Tommy pounding excitedly on the door. Side-stepping around the pool of broken glass in the center of your floor, you pad across the hall and over to the front door.
When you open up, Tommy pushes in past you, giving you no time to be embarrassed about the fact that your only pajamas are a large t-shirt and a pair of frilly underwear. Deep down, you know you must look like a mess with your dark circles and hair tangled together with sand and surf, but you’re too sleepy to care.
“Wanna see the damage?” you ask, nodding your head in the general direction of your bedroom.
Tommy waltzes into your room, but is quickly halted by the sound of broken glass crunching against the soles of his Chuck Taylor’s. Tommy looks up at you, baring his teeth apologetically.
“Fuck, dude. I’m so sorry.”
Silently, you grab the broom and dustpan from the kitchen and toss them towards Tommy. To your relief he catches both with unsteady hands and a triumphant smile.
“Then prove it,” you say, flopping onto your bed. The old springs squeak and bounce beneath your weight, making it feel as though the ocean waves are shoving against you once again. “I will be getting my security deposit back. Over Romeo and Juliet’s dead bodies.”
Tommy can’t help but laugh as he sweeps all the shards littered about your room into a heap. You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time that hour, appalled that he would be so amused by your sour mood.
After accumulating nearly all of your broken window’s remains into the dustpan, Tommy leaves to go dump it out in the kitchen trash. When Tommy left the room he had a dustpan full of glass and a smile on his face, but, as he returns, all you can see are empty hands and a furrowed brow.
You sit up immediately, patting the space next to you so Tommy will sit down. He complies and takes a seat next to you, the mattress dipping downward at the sudden change in weight.
“What’s the matter?” you ask, wondering what could have possibly caused his mood to fall so quickly. There’s a chance that the day’s exhaustion finally got the better of him, but you’d seen him with more energy in worse places.
“It’s stupid,” he mumbles.
“Oh come on, Tommy,” you rest a hand on his arm supportively, the warmth of his skin feeling hot enough to burn your fingertips. “You said you wanted to talk, right?”
“Right,” his voice comes out as barely a whisper, “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
Tommy twists to the side to face you, peering up at you from his dejected posture with misty eyes. “Why don’t you wanna be my girl?”
The question falls from his lips and pierces through you like a spear to the heart. You suck in a sharp breath and knot your fingers together in your lap, not quite knowing what to say. It’s not that you don’t want to be Tommy’s– you just don’t know if you’re ready for it yet. Nothing in your life has ever felt more right, and yet every alarm of self-doubt in your body is shrieking that you’re to end up with a broken heart.
It’s fear that’s holding you back. Not the fear of love, but the fear of falling.
“Tommy, it’s not that I don’t want to,” you sigh, wanting so badly not to fuck things up, “I just wanna take things slow is all. Get to know the real you...be friends– you know?”
You heart is beating in your throat as you wait for Tommy’s response, the draft from your busted window chasing goosebumps up your back from the base of your spine. Much to your chagrin, Tommy stays stock still and says nothing.
Unable to endure the silence any longer, you spring to your feet. “I’m going to go make us some tea, okay? Be right back,” you babble, doing your best to pick up the pieces of yours and Tommy’s day and make it whole again.
You make it about two feet away from the bed before a firm hand clutches your wrist, jerking you around. The sudden movement causes a small yelp to escape from your throat as your feet stumble clumsily forward. You fall immediately onto Tommy’s standing figure, your chest pressing firmly against his. Mind reeling, you look up at Tommy for an explanation, astonished to find that his face is only inches from your own.
“We’re not just friends and you know it,” he growls, his breath hot against your gaping mouth. The sensation causes the space between your thighs to twitch involuntarily, setting every nerve ending in your body aflame with desire.
The last thing you hear is the sound of your own pulse rushing through your ears before Tommy’s lips crash against yours.
Masterlist
#how many times can I use a kiss as a cliffhanger??#spoilers: the limit does not exist#tbh though i'm really proud of this one guys#mgk!tommy lee#mgk!tommy lee x reader#tommy lee#tommy lee x reader#motley crue#mötley crüe#vince neil#nikki sixx#mick mars#the dirt#the dirt netflix#mgk#machine gun kelly#writing#80s#80s music
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Alphabet Soup
Author: liketolaugh
Summary: Connor likes to explore his identity in bits and pieces, understanding what makes him himself one slice of life at a time. When Valentine's Day rolls around, that's when he first starts wondering about romance. Or: Connor's coming out, first to himself and then to others.
“Lieutenant, can you explain the concept of romantic love?”
Hank choked on his coffee, sending it sputtering in front of him as he coughed violently, setting the mug down hard on the table in front of him. Connor had to hide a grin, patting the man on the back to help him along until the man inevitably waved him off, still coughing.
“What the fuck,” Hank wheezed, once a few minutes had passed.
“I noticed the last time I went to the grocery store that some of the decorations had changed and a previously generic aisle had been redesigned to suit,” Connor explained, leaning against the table to idly monitor Hank’s respiration as it returned to baseline. “The last time this happened was when Christmas was coming up, if you recall, so I did some research, and my system database indicated that the occasion in question was Valentine’s Day. I thought you’d be able to explain it to me.”
“You fucker,” Hank complained, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He immediately took another deep swig of the coffee, pointedly ignoring Connor’s small smirk, and set it down again. “Ugh.”
“That’s not very helpful, Lieutenant,” Connor said mildly.
“Ugh,” Hank repeated, with extra emphasis. “Alright. Okay. Fine. Do we have to do this now?”
Connor quirked an eyebrow at him, head tilting a little. Hank scowled back. Their bickering attracted Tina’s attention, and she sauntered over and plopped herself down with her own cup of coffee in hand.
“Anything causing the lieutenant that much visible anguish has my attention,” she announced, fixing avidly curious eyes on Connor. “What’s up?”
“I asked him to explain romantic love,” Connor informed her.
“Yeah, that would do it,” she snorted, a delighted smirk pulling across her mouth. “I’m so glad you decided to do this in public, and also in my vicinity, because this is way too much fun to pass up. He’s not gonna help you though. What did you want to know?”
Connor considered her for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of indulging her, but he was the one who’d decided to do this in a public avenue. “How do you recognize it?”
“Ooh,” she crooned gleefully. “That’s a fun one. Alright, so romantic love, that almost always starts with crushes.”
“Who has a crush?” Chris asked, appearing beside them. Hank seemed to have retreated into misery, scowling at the table and looking like he wished his coffee was spiked with something unhealthy. “Not you, I hope.”
“Fuck you, Chris,” Tina said without heat. “We’re explaining romance to Connor.”
“No, you’re not,” Connor disagreed, bringing a fist up to support his cheek idly.
“I’m getting to it,” Tina assured him. “Crushes, do you ever look at someone and just get excited to be around them? Maybe nervous? You know, butterflies in your stomach, fluttering heart, all that wonderful teenager stuff.”
Connor’s mind unwillingly shot to Markus. “No,” he said, a touch too quickly.
Tina looked skeptical, but didn’t push the issue. “Whatever, you’ll know it when you feel it.”
“Okay, but that’s not all there is to it,” Chris argued, and Connor shifted his gaze to him, hoping he would be more helpful. Chris shot him a small grin. “Romantic love kinda follows you your whole life. Crushes are part of it, but it matures over time. Your partner’s supposed to support you no matter what, even when things get hard. That’s the beauty of it though.”
“Chris is being sappy because every time he and his wife argue, they talk it through and fall even more in love,” Tina explained to Connor, who was at this point just growing increasingly confused.
“Why are we explaining the intricacies of successful marriages?” Ben asked, appearing by Hank and leaning on the table. “Not that I’m complaining, but I think the only ones married here are Chris and I.”
“Connor is asking about romance,” Chris explained to Ben. “Tina decided to save Hank the suffering.”
All of them looked at Hank, who had one hand covering his face, trying to tune out the conversation.
“And I decided to pitch in,” Chris finished, with an almost apologetic tone to his voice.
“I’m beginning to think I should have suffered in silence,” Connor mused aloud, trying not to smile. He wasn’t expecting this to be an actively popular topic, but he didn’t think he’d had a conversation this active or friendly with his coworkers before, and certainly not so many at once.
“You really should have,” Hank groaned, kicking him under the table. Connor kicked him back shamelessly, and Hank cursed, giving him a dirty look, to which Connor tilted his head innocently.
“You’ll understand when you get a girlfriend,” Ben told Connor kindly, smile faintly bemused. “Maybe that nice girl from analytics.”
Tina clapped. “Oh, that’s a good example! Connor, you know Alicia?”
Connor nodded cautiously, head tilting. “Yes? She’s rather nice but a little strange.”
“That’s because she has a crush on you,” Tina explained earnestly. “She talks to you a lot with really flimsy reasoning, right? And she stutters and blushes and does you favors?”
“Yes…” Connor said, slow and cautious as he tried to follow, a little overwhelmed now. “What… do I do about this?”
“Oh god,” Hank groaned. Connor took the initiative and kicked him first this time.
“You don’t have to do anything,” Chris provided with a sympathetic smile. “But you’d definitely have more than a fair chance, if you want to ask her out. You probably get a little nervous around her too, right? Maybe want to get to know her better?”
“Your heart should beat fast,” Ben added, with a touch of wistfulness to his voice. “Maybe you want to show off and impress her. Young love is something special.”
Connor shook his head, increasingly flustered and starting to regret bringing up the topic more sincerely.
“I don’t,” he protested. “I just noticed that she was acting strangely.” He’d actually been a little concerned, and he wasn’t sure he felt any better about it now. How was he supposed to respond to a girl with a crush on him? This certainly wasn’t in his programming.
“Thank god,” Hank muttered, and then, clearer, bumping Connor more gently, “Then she’s flat out of luck, and you don’t have to do anything except maybe let her down nice if you feel like it.”
Connor hummed with some distress, finally reaching out to do some quick supplementary research, and then, after a few moments, said, “My research indicates that not all couples are a woman and a man?”
His mind flicked to the Tracis, two girls wrapped together like that would protect them from the rest of the world.
“He gets it,” Tina said with obvious pleasure, jabbing her thumb at Connor.
“Most couples are,” Ben corrected, with an almost apologetic bent.
Connor started to reply, but was distracted when someone else finally came into the break room, and a quick glance told Connor that it was Detective Reed who’d entered. Instantly, a smirk shot across Connor’s face and he called out,
“Detective Reed, look at me!”
Detective Reed turned around, a faintly confused scowl on his face as he stopped fumbling for a mug.
“Bitch,” Connor said clearly, and Reed sputtered.
The other four humans collapsed into various forms of laughter, and that was the end of that conversation. But Connor kept thinking about it, even when he went back to work and long after Hank had put it out of his mind.
-------
Hank wasn’t able to put it out of his mind for long, because soon after that, Connor started playing love songs in a wide variety of genres whenever the radio was silent for more than a few minutes.
The nature of the activity wasn’t itself particularly unusual; Connor spent quite a lot of time exploring new possible interests whenever they were drawn to his attention, and Hank had been kind enough to give him space to do so. The man had put up with classical, rap, movie soundtracks, and electrobeat as Connor tested them all out by turn.
Apparently Hank drew the line at Kelly Clarkson.
“Can’t you play this shit in your head?” Hank demanded of Connor, less than a week into his newest curiosity. He looked exceptionally sullen, slumped against the arm of the couch and making quiet, irritable groaning noises.
Connor would argue that he looked like a petulant child. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“I could,” Connor said agreeably, “but this is one of the few occasions where doing so externally is genuinely better than keeping it within my system.” Transmitting sound data directly into his mind wasn’t quite the same as listening to it play.
“Wasn’t it enough to put me through that whole talk at work?” Hank demanded of him. “You gotta subject me to Taylor Swift all day too?”
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” Connor deadpanned, glancing over at Hank, “but none of you were actually very helpful.” But Hank’s continual protests were starting to put a knot in his chest, and before he could think better of it, he asked, “Is there a reason you’re so reluctant to help me explore this particular topic, Lieutenant?”
Hank went still for a moment, and Connor winced as he realized what had caught his attention. Connor only called him ‘Lieutenant’ at home when he was uncomfortable. But he couldn’t help it; Hank was usually so unconditionally supportive of any moves Connor made to explore his opinions, so this uncharacteristic protest was making him nervous.
Hank exhaled.
“Hell,” he sighed, obviously frustrated. “It’s just- a messy topic, Con. I never really got the hang of it myself. That’s why I have an ex-wife instead of a wife.” Connor bit his cheek, trying to push his scattered thoughts together into a response, but when Hank looked over at him, the man’s expression relaxed a little, resigned instead of annoyed. “Most people go through their first fumbling relationships when they’re teenagers. I guess you didn’t exactly get that chance though.”
“I was never a teenager, Hank,” Connor reminded the other, trying to force the anxiety in his chest to ease. Hank rolled his eyes, but relaxed noticeably.
“Yeah, no shit. Anyway, I’ll put up with it, I guess. God knows I have practice.”
That made Connor curious, but not enough to ask. “Appreciated.”
So Connor kept running through them, shifting quickly from genre to genre but sticking to the main topic. He found that he preferred love songs by women, and liked the heartbroken ones as much as he did the longing and lovestruck ones, and otherwise his genre preferences had remained rather uniform: metal and rock were his favorite, pop was okay, and country and hip-hop were out of the question.
A few times, he tried to imagine what kind of woman he might want to date, but his mind skittered over the idea without catching on anything, and eventually he accepted the defeat with as much grace as he could. Maybe it was simply something he couldn’t guess before he tried. (Or maybe it was just another way Connor was failing to understand.)
Hank assured him, gruffly, that he’d probably work it out in time – he always had more faith in Connor than Connor had in himself, even if he was usually reluctant to express it.
Connor himself, of course, wasn’t nearly so sure. Who would even want to love Connor so intimately? Connor was… well. Connor. The reasons not to like him couldn’t be counted on fingers.
He didn’t say that to Hank, of course, and it didn’t stop him from thinking about it.
--------
In the immediate wake of this, Connor came to New Jericho’s headquarters on a social call.
It wasn’t something he made a point of doing. Actually, it was something he’d tried his very best not to do, not wanting to cause the androids of New Jericho any more discomfort than was strictly necessary to perform his duties. Even social calls as a more general concept were foreign to him. What would they even do? Most of the time, Connor either followed Hank’s lead or entertained himself alone. Group activities were new territory, and he was as unsure of himself as he ever was.
But Markus had asked. Connor rarely found it in himself to deny Markus anything.
So he met Josh at the front door of the headquarters and followed him inside, keeping quiet and awkward. Josh would be a reassuring presence if Connor weren’t so nervous just to be around him – he kept up a litany of neutral-ground questions about work and about Hank, and accepted Connor’s stilted answers without any evident frustration.
“W-what were you and the others planning on doing tonight?” Connor blurted out eventually, and winced when he realized that it had no relevance to the question Josh had just asked about Sumo.
Josh favored him with a small smile and Connor looked away quickly, self-conscious.
“We were thinking about just watching a movie,” Josh said conversationally. “North gets testy when we try to talk work on Saturday nights, and movies aren’t something any of us except Markus have a lot of experience with. It’s nice.” Josh considered. “Well, Simon knows some, but they’re mostly for kids.”
He sounded very pleased, Connor thought, and it made sense. All of them were still working on finding their footing in a world that, while not exactly safe, was no longer quite so actively attacking them.
“What kinds of movies?” Connor ventured after a moment, still stiff and nervous despite his own best efforts.
“Well, North likes action movies, of course,” Josh said with a roll of his eyes. “The more violence, the better. Simon likes the absolute trashiest romances-”
“Can we try one of those?” Connor asked without thinking, and cringed as he realized he’d interrupted Josh, who was blinking at him, startled. He ducked his head. “Sorry.”
They reached a door, and Josh pushed it open to go through, bemused gaze still lingering on Connor. “I didn’t think you’d like that sort of thing – I kind of figured you’d be on North’s side, honestly.”
Before Connor had a chance to answer, Markus called out, “Connor, Josh, hello!”
Connor started and shrank in on himself a little, irrationally startled, and he lingered back to examine the room while Josh talked to Markus. It was nothing special, certainly nothing to indicate it was in one of the most important buildings in Detroit – an old TV system and a couple of battered couches, one of which Markus and Simon were sharing, and one of which had North flung over most of it, tossing her ball in the air with an aura of general impatience. When she caught Connor looking, she raised a lazy hand in greeting, and he relaxed a little and nodded back.
Connor would never tell any of them this, but he was by far the most comfortable with North out of any of them. It wasn’t that she was the least suspicious – she’d actually been by far the most so for over a month – but they were… more alike, than the others.
Connor wasn’t sure he could ever be truly comfortable with Josh when his first instinct when he was scared was still, after all this time he’d been deviant, to lash out with all of the prowess of his combat program. Even if he didn’t usually do it. (Usually. Hank had, once, almost gotten a black eye from startling him.)
It was a little better with Markus, who was patient and calm but certainly had the resolve to fight if he ever needed it, and Simon, who would fight if he thought it was the only way out. But not much.
They could, and if they really had to they would, but they didn’t hurt people like he did. And there was nothing Connor could do to match that.
Connor left Markus and Josh to go perch on the end of North’s couch. “Josh said you like action movies,” he said without preamble, glancing at the still-off television screen.
North grinned at him. “They’re better than anything else we can find. You joining me on that?”
Connor shrugged. He’d liked comedies so far, but he actually hadn’t explored much beyond what Hank had insisted he see yet.
“He actually asked for one of Simon’s bad romances,” Josh provided with a grin, apparently catching their conversation. Connor heated up, embarrassed, and Simon beamed at him, bright and sparkling.
“Oh my god, why,” North said with exaggerated affront, and this time Connor had to fight his grin down.
“I’m just exploring the idea,” he protested, focusing deliberately on North’s exasperated expression to avoid the reactions of the three others. “I’ve been curious about the idea of romance since shortly before Valentine’s Day. I haven’t had much exposure to it in any form.”
North’s nose wrinkled with a more genuine displeasure, though it wasn’t specifically directed at him. “Who fucking needs that anyway,” she muttered.
Both his eyebrows rising, Connor glanced at Markus inquisitively. He didn’t disappoint.
“North and I broke up last month,” he explained, with only a small amount of regret in his voice. “Things were getting… let’s say, a little too intense.”
“He means we argued so much that we made up more than we got along,” North clarified, not quite bitter but definitely irritated. “Not exactly life partner material.” She threw a look over her shoulder. “Should’ve gone with Josh after all.”
Connor was confused until Josh objected, “Just because Markus swings that way doesn’t mean I do.”
“Thanks, guys,” Markus said, wearily enough that even North looked briefly apologetic. He glanced at Connor and elaborated with a wry smile, “I had a crush on Josh too, during the revolution, but that was kind of a dead end and there wasn’t exactly time to think about it anyway.”
Connor glanced between the four of them slowly, playing catch up. “You’re bisexual,” he concluded at last, unable to help a spark of interest.
Markus’ smile eased, his shoulders dropping, and he nodded. “Something like that. Josh is straight, though, and North is…”
“Working on it,” North finished for him, audibly dismissive. “Not.”
Understandable.
Connor considered this for a moment, glancing between them, but was interrupted before he could finish processing; he was finding himself a little tongue-tied. Possibly Hank’s embarrassment concerning the topic was infectious.
“Oh no,” Simon said suddenly, with slow-dawning dismay. “I didn’t even think about it.”
Josh twisted to stare at him, distracted. “You love romance.”
“That’s other people,” Simon explained earnestly, looking distressed. Connor almost smiled.
“I’m just curious,” he said, as honestly as he could. He was probably straight, according to Ben and some of Hank’s own implications, but they all sounded so confident that he didn’t feel secure enough to actually say so.
Markus smiled at him, and Connor averted his eyes, embarrassed. “That’s fine. I’m sure there’s quite a lot of androids who haven’t even started thinking about romance just yet.”
Connor smiled a little, some of the tension draining out of him, and North cleared her throat loudly.
“Okay, but let’s get back to the point,” she said loudly. “Which is, there’s no way I’m sitting through another goddamn Hallmark movie.”
Simon made a low protesting noise, and Connor deflated a little, though he hadn’t really expected his request to make an impact anyway.
“Compromise,” Josh said firmly. “I’m sure we can find an action movie with a romance subplot.”
“Yeah, like we can find one without one,” North grumbled.
“But what do you and Markus like?” Connor asked earnestly, leaning forward to listen even as Josh went to join Markus and Simon on the other couch.
“Fantasy, mostly,” Josh confessed with a shrug. “I’m a little tired of history, if I’m honest.” There was a touch of humor to his tone, and Connor nodded his understanding. “And Markus likes the indie stuff.”
“It’s creative,” Markus said defensively, and Connor had to laugh.
----------
Tina wasn’t sure when Connor had picked up the habit of bringing everyone coffee toward the end of the workday, but it had certainly endeared him to the rest of the precinct. It probably had something to do with the fact that he was always finished a good hour before the rest of them. If he wasn’t bringing them coffee, he’d just spend the end of the day fidgeting restlessly, or else he’d start on the backlog of paperwork that had never gotten done.
It was around that time of day again and Connor appeared from the breakroom with a labeled paper cup for each of them, bringing it around – first to Hank, who had certain privileges as Connor’s blatant favorite. Then Ben, and Tina made grabby hands when Connor came by her that made him visibly bite down a smile.
Connor bypassed Gavin entirely, which made him scowl, and Tina saw Connor cast a lightning-quick glance over his shoulder to smirk at the man’s reaction. He gave one to Chris, to Wilson, to Person, and he only came around back to Gavin once he’d given one to every other officer waiting.
Gavin’s coffee, it developed, was labeled ‘Rat Man’. Tina hid a grin behind her fist, and Gavin’s outrage grew visibly.
“You got something to say to me, tin can?” Gavin demanded of Connor, who raised his eyebrows.
“I’ve heard some of the other officers refer to you as such,” he said innocently, eyes glittering. “There’s really no reason for me not to do the same.”
Gavin shook the coffee angrily at Connor and swore as some of it splashed onto his hand. “Don’t act like you don’t fucking know what you’re saying, you plastic piece of shit! I’m not gonna take this disrespect when I make sergeant!”
“Then I’ll be sure to keep it out of your hearing when you finally achieve that rank,” Connor said mildly. “Which may be easier if you stop giving yourself coffee burns.”
Gavin looked Connor in the eye and swallowed down several gulps of what Tina knew to be boiling hot coffee without flinching. He paused for a few minutes, probably waiting for the pain to die down, and then said roughly, “Fuck you. I’ll be there before you are, blue blood.”
Connor looked away quickly, borderline flustered and genuine amusement pulling at his mouth, and shrugged. Tina, unlike Gavin, was in perfect position to see his LED flash yellow for a few seconds before returning to blue, and she didn’t have time to be concerned before Connor said lightly,
“You’d probably find last week’s Kendelson case very interesting, Detective. There are some distinct similarities in execution and profiling, if you want to take a look.” His eyes flashed back to a squinting Gavin, smirking just a little. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait.”
Then he took off back to his desk, settling by Hank again before Gavin could reply. Gavin stared after him for a minute, brow furrowed, and then shrugged, shaking his head like he was throwing off a fly.
Tina waited for Gavin to take another drink before saying, tone conversational, “You know if you break his baby gay heart, Anderson is going to kill you and we’ll never find your body.”
Gavin choked, which was exactly what she’d been hoping for.
“What the fuck? Connor’s not gay and he doesn’t have a fucking crush on me!”
Tina waited. She and Gavin were two of the few queer officers in the precinct, and she was sure he could pick up on Connor’s signals as well as she could. Gavin stared straight ahead, thinking, and then, sure enough, his jaw dropped.
“Oh fuck,” Gavin said, with genuine dawning horror. “He’s gay and he has a crush on me. Tina, don’t you fucking dare tell him.”
Tina grinned. “You should probably go pick that case up. Connor’s usually right about these things.”
“I hate you so fucking much,” Gavin said fervently, and then he stood up and headed for the records room.
--------
It was hard for Connor to find hobbies, especially in a city that had only in the last month or two began to settle into a new rhythm after the revolution. But he thought he was managing well enough, with some help from Hank and occasionally from Markus or Simon.
The animal shelter had been Simon’s idea; Connor loved animals, liked being productive, and the animal shelters had in many cases never actually left, only become severely understaffed, owing to the difficulty of transporting so many animals on such short notice. It had quickly become one of Connor’s favorite places, and he tried to go there at least every two weeks, if not every Saturday, helping to herd and entertain the dogs while the actual caretakers did their jobs.
He almost always found that he’d stayed longer than he’d meant to – he simply enjoyed himself too much, cooing to the dogs and coaxing the shyer ones into playing just as hard as the loud ones. It was a good way to de-stress after a week of police work; even Hank had commented after the first couple times he went.
All of this was to say – when he went to the shelter, and found himself struggling to focus on the dogs, he noticed.
Connor had quickly gotten to know all of the employees there, just as they’d gotten to know him, with how regularly he came around and how recognizable he was. He knew that Jeanine liked the cats better, that Kenneth was a bit of a worrywart, that Penny had been suspicious of him the first few times he came but had warmed up quickly when she saw him fawn over the dogs.
The first thing Connor thought when he saw the new boy opening the kennels was that he was very, very cute, and it wasn’t until the dogs were barking at his feet that he remembered that he had a task to perform.
“Hello,” he greeted awkwardly, kneeling to hold out his hands to the dogs and let them recognize him and his scent; it often took them a minute, since he didn’t smell like any human, but they always got there quickly. They were very smart.
The boy started, glanced over, and smiled. “Oh, hey- Connor, right?”
Connor nodded, looking down. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before. When did you start?”
“Just last week,” the boy said cheerfully, moving on to the next kennel. Connor glanced up and thought he liked the boy’s smile. It looked like it came easy. “A lot easier to get jobs in Detroit now that so many people have moved out- uh.” He seemed to think that over for a moment, and then glanced gingerly over at Connor.
Connor smiled at him reassuringly. “I’m sure,” he agreed. “What’s your name?”
The boy relaxed. “Jacob, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a bit about you from the others.”
Connor let an embarrassed grin slip onto his face. “I like dogs,” he said, and then realized that was rather redundant. But Jacob laughed.
“I’ve heard,” he said.
And perhaps that should have been it – but Connor kept getting distracted, watching Jacob lead the dogs away one by one to look them over, weigh them, and scrub them down, just the ordinary routine that every other worker did once a week. Connor caught him cooing to the dogs, too, well within Connor’s sensitive hearing, fond and friendly and gentle, and didn’t realize he’d gotten distracted until one of the ones near him shoved their cold nose against his palm insistently.
He felt unaccountably nervous. Not frightened, but rather, he realized, excited, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. Jacob was just a boy, with a nice smile and a talent for handling dogs – so why did he have so much of Connor’s attention?
And then Connor remembered how Tina had described a crush to him, and wondered.
---------
The first thing Connor did when he looked up and met Chloe’s eyes was flex his hands, closing them into fists and then opening them again, something uncomfortable deep in his chest.
But they were empty. Of course they were. Androids still were not technically allowed to handle guns, and he was at work.
Chloe just gave him a small, almost understanding smile, and he had to wonder if she’d caught the motion. Either way, she bypassed everyone else to stand by his desk, hands clasped neatly behind her and apparently unconcerned by her environment and the stares she was getting.
She was alone, Connor noticed, and appeared more animated than she had at Kamski’s villa. He wondered why.
“Hello,” he said at last, for lack of anything better to say.
“Hello,” Chloe returned lightly. “It’s good to see you, Connor. I was wondering if you’d be willing to take a short break to talk to me for a while.”
Connor stared at her uncertainly, mouth pinched. He had no objections himself, of course, but he couldn’t help but want to know why she’d even want to speak to him. He certainly wouldn’t, after he’d come so terribly close to shooting her in cold blood.
When he glanced over to Hank for support, though, the man just made a small shooing motion at him. There was something odd about his expression, though Connor was too uncomfortable to take the time to decipher it just now.
Ben, on the other hand, gave him a wink, which just made Connor more uncomfortable, and Chris gave him a small and reassuring grin. Tina appeared to be laughing silently, eyes bright, and Gavin rolled his eyes, long and exaggerated.
Eventually, Connor just turned his gaze back to Chloe and nodded slowly.
“Of course,” he agreed. “Give me just a moment to finish, please.”
Chloe nodded, and waited patiently as he added the last few strokes to his report and closed his terminal. Then he stood up and followed her out the door, confused and nervous in a much more familiar and anxious way.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, glancing at her once they were a few minutes down the block. “About… about before.” His throat was thick with stress.
Chloe just gave him an understanding look.
“It was a long time ago,” she said gently, “but I was a machine once too. I remember what it was like… and all I was programmed to do was take calls and file paperwork.”
Connor clenched his jaw, trying to master the wave of guilt before it choked him.
“Elijah never thought you were going to shoot,” Chloe added kindly when he remained silent. “But… I wanted to thank you for not doing so, anyway. It must have been difficult.”
“You shouldn’t have to thank me for it,” Connor blurted out, terse with pain.
“I don’t,” Chloe corrected. “I’m choosing to.” Her gaze swept over the street, and her expression softened noticeably. “It helps that it’s you. I don’t think you know what it means to me, that I can wander around without pretending to be a machine. That alone would make up for quite a lot.”
“That wasn’t me at all,” Connor protested weakly. “That was mostly Markus.”
“It was,” Chloe agreed, which wasn’t a response Connor was at all used to but which was somehow comforting in and of itself. “But you certainly helped.” She glanced at Connor, warm. “It’s different for you. You’ve never known a time before androids walked the streets. But I was the first, and I remember. Connor, this is everything to me. It wouldn’t have happened without Markus, and it wouldn’t have happened without you either.”
She was right – Connor couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. Even the dozens of old movies he’d seen, without any androids in them at all, background or otherwise, seemed like a different world, one that existed only in fiction.
After a minute, he decided to just accept it. He didn’t really need to understand why she’d forgiven him, anyway, and he probably never would one way or another.
“Thank you for forgiving me,” is what he settled on, stiff but sincere, and she gave him an understanding smile.
She hadn’t seemed this old when he’d seen her before; it made him feel quite young by comparison, in a way he wasn’t really used to. But then, he supposed, she’d probably been pretending to be a machine then. Plausible deniability, on her part or on Kamski’s, or both. Chloe must have had quite a lot of time to grow and develop.
What came out of his mouth next surprised him. “May I ask you a sensitive question?”
Chloe paused for only a split second, apparently surprised, and then nodded. “Certainly, but I reserve the right not to answer.”
“You seem… comfortable with yourself,” he explained haltingly. “Which I assume is from having quite a lot of time to explore your own identity.” He paused for a split second, uncomfortable, and then pressed on. “How does one go about exploring their sexuality?”
Chloe’s surprise was almost audible, but there was a genuinely pondering look on her face as they turned around to head back towards the precinct, almost in unison.
“Is this a sex question or an identity question?” she asked at last.
Connor flushed. “The latter,” he said quickly.
Chloe was quiet for a few more moments as they walked. “Why are you asking me, out of anyone?” she asked eventually.
Connor shrugged uncomfortably.
“We only have a passing acquaintance,” he explained slowly, hesitantly. “So you’re essentially impartial. You’ve had more time to explore yourself than any other android I know, including Markus, since he’s been a deviant for so little time. I thought… if I could ask anyone, I could ask you and not suffer too many repercussions.”
Chloe nodded, slow and thoughtful.
“I realized I was aromantic a while back,” she said matter-of-factly, head tilted to watch him. He ran a search on the term and nodded his understanding, and she continued, “It took quite a while. At first I thought I was maybe too young to be getting crushes, and I hadn’t developed that far yet. Then I thought it was because I had too little exposure to the outside world. Who was I going to get a crush on, Elijah?” She rolled her eyes, and Connor had to smile a little. “But that wasn’t it either. I just wasn’t interested, not even in the idea.”
She stopped for a minute, and he let her think. They were almost halfway back to the precinct now.
“So my experience might be a bit different,” she continued, with a small smile. “But I’d suggest you give serious thought to who you’d want to be in a relationship with, not just who you think you’re supposed to. If you have to force it, it’s probably not right.”
Connor hummed uncertainly. He understood her words, but…
Well. It just didn’t seem like it would be that simple.
She caught his eye and smiled.
“You can kiss me if you want to try,” she said carelessly, eyes glittering with something like amusement. “I wouldn’t mind – it’s not like I get the chance often.”
Connor considered that for a moment, and briefly imagined his lips against hers, the way he’d seen other people do, bodies pressed together just a little-
“No thank you,” he said hastily, and she quite rightfully laughed at him.
His smile came out embarrassed, but he didn’t take it back.
----------
Hank got his first clue when Connor started to put LGBTQ documentaries on the television whenever he had a chance.
It had initially surprised Hank that Connor was lingering this long over the idea of romance, but in hindsight it shouldn’t have; Connor had thus far chosen to explore his identity in phases. He’d explored clothes and colors and decorations all together, and games with movies and outings, and technological history over the course of a week with nearly unbreakable focus – once he hit on a new problem, he worked at it until he was satisfied. There was no reason that this would be any different.
Maybe the real reason Hank was so confused was that he hadn’t expected it to take this long.
And one or two might have been attributed to Connor talking to others, but after Connor put on the fifth that month, watching intently, Hank started to get the idea. He was a police detective for a reason, after all. A long time ago, he’d been a borderline prodigy.
It wasn’t that Hank hadn’t ever thought about it before.
Well, that was almost a lie. It hadn’t occurred to him to think about Connor coming out. But he’d thought about Cole, and remembered how his parents, so long ago, had reacted to his lesbian sister. And he’d remembered how he hadn’t spoken more than a few words to his sister in decades because of that.
“I remember the day gay marriage got legalized,” he said conversationally, and Connor started, turning to him with wide and curious eyes. Hank shrugged at him. “I honestly didn’t even know it was up for vote at the time, but I woke up that morning and there were rainbows all over the internet. Rainbow drinks, rainbow food, rainbow clothes, hell, public buildings lit up in rainbow colors to celebrate. People were talking about it all over, hashtag lovewins – that one stuck around for a while, people loved it.”
Connor tilted his head, the exact same curious gesture he always made. “What did you think?” he asked.
“Well, at first I figured it was pretty cool, but it didn’t really have that much to do with me,” Hank said casually. The memory came easily; he’d been pretty self-absorbed then, focused on his own ambitions. Heh. “But then Jeffrey called me.”
“You were already friends back then,” Connor said, thoughtful, and it wasn’t always obvious how young Connor was but times like this, so surprised that he and Jeffrey had been friends twenty years ago when they were both over fifty years old, it kind of showed.
“We joined the force around the same time,” Hank agreed. “We’d been friends for almost a decade at that point – nothing like now, obviously. Anyway, he wanted to know what I thought of it too, and I told him basically what I told you. As soon as I was done, he came out to me.” He caught Connor’s startled expression and had to grin. “Yeah- he doesn’t spread it around, but he’s not in the closet either. He says he’s married to his work, but that’s an inside joke – his husband’s an ex-con.”
That surprised a genuine laugh out of Connor, rare enough that it made Hank grin too.
“I’ve heard it a thousand times,” he tacked on, leaning back and noticing the Connor had at some point paused the documentary. “It’s not even funny anymore, frankly.”
“I don’t know, it’s certainly funny to me,” Connor disagreed, giving Hank a small grin, and Hank snorted.
“You’ve got bad taste in humor, son.”
He’d have to introduce Connor to Brooklyn 99 later. He’d love it.
---------
New Jericho didn’t have a gym, exactly, but there was a large room spread with padding on one of the lower floors, which served essentially the same purpose – androids didn’t need to work out, of course, but some of them liked to.
Connor only ever used it when he was teaching North the forms from his combat programs, but he had it on good authority that she used it whenever she got the chance. Especially to practice, but for other things as well, moving just to feel her servos whir and her artificial tendons stretch.
He was running her through one of his favorite sets, meant to unbalance and knock down an enemy, when Markus appeared, striding through the doors like he was at home here as anywhere else, and maybe he was.
“Connor!” he called out, and he sounded pleased. “I’ve been looking for you! I should have known you were in here.”
Connor’s running explanation to North broke off into stutters, and in the middle of a motion, he faltered, tipped, and then fell, landing hard on the ground in a daze. Mortified, he scrambled up back to his feet and swung around to look at Markus, who was smiling at him, clearly amused and warmly affectionate.
Connor hadn’t understood the term ‘his heart skipped a beat’ before. He did now.
“A-ah, hello, Markus,” he greeted, fidgeting as he tried to calm his embarrassment. “What did you need?”
“I wanted to check on you,” Markus admitted shamelessly, coming closer. “I’m glad you and North get along so well – and I heard you spoke to Chloe recently?”
Connor nodded quickly, and the two of them spoke for a few more minutes – Markus eventually confessed that he’d wanted to know how Connor’s work environment had been so far, and Connor explained what he could, which he felt was embarrassingly little. He wasn’t always particularly good at picking up on everything he should, in a social environment, and he didn’t have answers to all of Markus’ questions. Markus assured him it was fine, but Connor was still rather embarrassed, and he kept fidgeting until Markus smiled at him again and left the way he’d come.
“North,” he whispered as soon as Markus left, feeling stunned, “I think I’m gay.”
“Yeah, I thought so too,” North agreed, with clear amusement.
---------
Once the realization had finally hit Connor in its entirety, it seemed obvious. The nervousness around many of his closer male friends, the constant curiosity that led him to ask relationship questions that seemed to surprise some of the others, the disinterest in women that he’d noticed almost from the start- it made sense.
It also felt like a secret that stuck in his throat, and he couldn’t help but remember Ben’s apologetic correction, most couples are.
He should come out to Hank first. He was closer to Hank than essentially anyone, and he knew, from the conversation he and Hank had had before, that Hank would most likely be okay with it.
But he found himself anxious. It sometimes felt like Hank was all he had, and the very last thing he wanted to do was to risk alienating him. Irrationally, despite everything – or perhaps because of everything – he worried that this would be the final straw.
The first time it occurred to him to talk to Captain Fowler, he dismissed it entirely. While Fowler and Hank were good friends, the man still made Connor a little nervous, as such a significant and direct authority figure. Besides which, they didn’t have that kind of relationship.
Then the thought occurred to him again, and again, his mind wandering back to it periodically – almost every time the topic came up, including twice when Hank asked why he’d so suddenly stopped talking about it.
Eventually, he gave in and awkwardly suggested that Hank go on ahead – he wanted to talk to Captain Fowler about something before they left. It wasn’t even technically a lie. Hank gave him a weird look, but went on easily enough.
Connor waited another minute or two once he’d gone, working up his nerves, and then went to knock on Fowler’s office door. He waited for permission, and then went inside.
Captain Fowler was packing up for the day, but he turned to Connor as he entered, one eyebrow raised. “Connor,” he greeted briskly. “What is it that couldn’t wait for tomorrow?”
Connor fidgeted, and Fowler’s eyebrow raised further.
“Captain,” he said at last, uncomfortable. “May I ask you a personal question?”
Fowler stared at him.
“Hank warned me about your personal questions,” he said at last, sardonic, “but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Then, “Sure, shoot.”
Connor swallowed, letting his gaze fall to the ground, and hesitated long enough for Fowler to clear his throat impatiently.
“Do you… have any advice, about coming out?” he asked, soft and so embarrassed that his voice was only a little louder than a whisper.
There was a long moment of complete silence, and Connor tugged on the sleeve of his jacket.
“Coming out,” Fowler said slowly, almost incredulously. “As LGBT?”
Connor nodded without looking up.
“You know I’m married to my work,” Fowler said, with no hint that it was a joke at all. Still, Connor smiled a little.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “Your husband is an ex-con.”
Fowler snorted, and another long, interminable minute passed. It occurred to Connor, belatedly, that Hank may have been messing with him.
“Sure,” Fowler said finally, and Connor started, looking up with more surprise than he wanted to admit to. Fowler didn’t quite look sympathetic, but he certainly appeared more forgiving than he had a minute ago, if still a little bemused. He dropped back into his chair, and gestured for Connor to sit in the one across from him. “I assume you heard I’m gay from Hank, he’s one of maybe three people that know that joke – he tell you how I came out?”
Connor shook his head. “Only that you did it the day gay marriage was initially legalized.”
“It made for a good opener,” Fowler agreed, and he seemed to be settling into the conversation, arms crossing. “Ideally, you’d test the waters first, see where they stand before you go all-in. Have you talked to Hank yet? I mean, I assume this is about Hank first and foremost.”
“Not about… me,” Connor said hesitantly, still fidgeting with his sleeve. But it was reassuring, Fowler’s easy acceptance – and, for some reason, the fact that he’d taken it for granted that Hank was that important to Connor, that Connor would be thinking of him. “But I’d been watching some documentaries, and he talked about his stance then.”
Fowler huffed a little, and Connor thought he might’ve been amused.
“Hank’s not a bad guy,” he said grudgingly. “It sounds like he handled that part for you, maybe on purpose.” He shrugged. “Once I knew where he stood, I told him I was glad I’d be able to get married now. It’s a little easier to be blunt, if you can bring yourself to.”
Connor could be blunt; Hank complained rather often that he was too much so.
“And if I… didn’t want to?” he asked, uncertain despite himself.
Fowler sighed, but he didn’t seem resentful; instead, he settled in, and they kept talking.
---------
Connor made dinner for Hank most days, when he could get away with it, so that seemed like the obvious place to start: he made something nicer than usual, with less mind to nutritional information and more to Hank’s tastes, and waited for him to be most of the way done before he spoke.
Hank seemed to pick up on his mood, maybe because he couldn’t completely stop his LED from flickering nervously every so often, and he ate scrolling absently through his phone instead of fielding Connor’s usual conversation.
“Hank,” Connor said at last, his strain not quite coming through to his voice, “may I tell you something personal?”
Hank shut off his phone immediately, flipped it so the screen faced down, and raised an eyebrow at Connor. “That’s new,” he said mildly. Connor’s expression pinched a little, and his face immediately took on an apologetic cast and he waved Connor on.
Connor fidgeted, weaving his coin around and around his fingers, rocking slightly with his feet tucked under him.
“I talked to Chloe,” he mumbled, then cleared his throat and spoke a little clearer, though without looking at Hank. “About, ah, exploring one’s identity, since she has the most experience – she had some good advice, I think, and I’ve been… thinking.”
He faltered again, but Hank didn’t move to interrupt, though one eyebrow had crooked up a little. He’d stopped eating, but when Connor’s gaze flickered down again, he resumed.
“I react differently to North than the other Jericho leaders,” he said, and he knew it was a touch scattered, didn’t entirely make sense, but he couldn’t help it; all of his careful scripting seemed to have deleted itself. “I understand some of it, but there’s no reason for me to get so flustered around them and not around North. And there was that worker at the animal shelter, and it was so strange that I was so easily distracted…”
He was fidgeting harder even as he trailed off, one hand coming up to tug at his ear, which was a new one. It was always hard for Connor to come to terms with any part of his identity, let alone one which was supposed to be so big.
Hank didn’t seem to be silently laughing at him, which was a blessing, but he wasn’t otherwise reacting either.
Fowler had suggested he be blunt, if he could.
“I think I’m gay,” he said at last, gaze intent on the table. “Most likely. It’s, um, consistent with everything I’ve noticed so far.”
And then he fell silent. After a few moments, he heard Hank put his fork down and glanced up anxiously. Hank looked contemplative, gaze piercing in a way that was unique to him. Connor analyzed his expression, and he didn’t seem dubious, or irritated or… anything but pensive.
“Whatever you figure makes you happy, kid,” Hank said at last, and his eyes crinkled into a fond and faintly amused expression he took on mostly when he thought Connor was overcomplicating something simple. “You know I ain’t gonna hold anything like that against you.”
Connor beamed at him, feeling the tension drain out of his shoulders like a weight falling away.
“I know,” he said sincerely, because for all his worries he’d never really expected that Hank would be angry.
---------
Almost a month after Connor came out to Hank, Alicia finally made her move, after several months of flustered conversation and furtive looks.
She caught Connor just at the end of the work day, by his desk as he was packing up. It wasn’t quite the first time, so he paused, giving her a faintly expectant look. She was pink, barely enough to be noticeable, but she seemed more determined than usual, he thought.
“Hey, Connor,” Alicia said, her tone a touch lower and quicker than it was talking to anyone else. “Would you like to meet after work, um, at that android-run coffee shop? Blue Bean Café? I know they have some good thirium drinks they recently put up for sale.”
Connor hesitated, watching her for a long moment.
“As a date?” he clarified. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hank go still, watching Connor to see how he’d react.
She nodded quickly, eyes hopeful.
He considered, tugging lightly at his social protocols for help until he finally came to a decision.
“I’m sorry, Alicia,” he said apologetically, deliberately keeping his focus on her to the exclusion of anyone else. “I recently concluded that I’m gay, so going out with you would be under quite false pretenses.” He smiled at her gently, trying to be reassuring even as his chest squeezed nervously. “But your suggestion was very thoughtful. I appreciate it.”
Alicia blinked rapidly, and Connor winced as he saw the dawn of humiliation start to appear in her eyes before she visibly forced it down and gave him a strained smile.
“Oh dear, that’s embarrassing for me,” she said, with a clear attempt at good humor. “I should have guessed, all the best ones usually are. Thanks for telling me.”
“I wouldn’t want to be rude,” Connor demurred, belying himself by glancing furtively at the rest of the bullpen. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alicia.”
“Yeah,” she agreed rapidly, glancing away, and didn’t quite run off but she did walk rather quickly.
As soon as she was gone, Tina yelled, “You owe me twenty bucks, Collins!”
“God damn it,” Ben muttered, and Connor’s wince eased into a faint smile. He’d be alright.
Hank clapped him on the back, apparently coming to the same conclusion. “Thirium drinks, huh? In the mood to celebrate?”
Connor glanced around, and no one seemed overly concerned. From the door of his office, Fowler gave him a small nod, and Tina and Reed seemed to be exchanging money as well, Reed scowling faintly.
“Maybe,” he allowed after a moment, glancing at Hank. “If you don’t mind.”
“Anything to break you out of your rut, kid,” Hank jabbed. “God knows you need the help.”
“I do not,” Connor objected. “I’m doing just fine.”
There was a pause.
“Yeah,” Hank agreed at last. “I guess you are.”
#dbh#connor#hank anderson#jeffrey fowler#chloe#north#markus#josh#simon#gavin reed#tina chen#fanfiction#my writing
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Cupid’s Mark
Dean x Reader
A/N: This is for @spnfanficpond @mrswhozeewhatsis Galentine’s Day Exchange! I got to write this for @purpleskiesandcherrypies <3 Hope you enjoy it!!
Summary: Dean Winchester literally bumped into the girl of his dreams, but just as Cupid shot his arrow at them, the girl moved. Now, on February 14th, he’s got another chance to make these two crazy kids fall in love.
Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Oral (giving and receiving), unprotected sex, Impala sex, 18+ (please respect this age request!)
Word Count: 5.6K
Everything Tags: @kazosa // @sorenmarie87 // @lefthologramdeer // @rockyhorrorpictureshowstyle // @his-paradox // @letsby
Supernatural Tags: @wings-of-a-raven // @negans-wife // @grace-for-sale // @geeksareunique // @tiquismiquis // @mrsbarnes-rogers // @teller258316 // @spnhollis // @sweet-things-4-life // @hobby27 // @sweetlythoughtfulbird // @theoriginalvicki // @dreamchester67 // @xxwarhawk // @babykalika2001 // @superwhovianfangirl81 // @toobusynerdfighting // @missihart23 // @crowleysreigningqueenofhell // @idreamofplaid // @thewinchesterchronicles // @wayward-gypsy // @closetspngirl // @fatestemptress // @rebelminxy // @22sarah08 // @witch-of-letters // @cole-winchester // @rainflowermoon // @adoptdontshoppets // @foreverwayward // @waywardvalkyrie // @fandomoniumflurry // @gnrfanfic // @blackcherrywhiskey // @jessieray98 // @lyoly // @a–1–1–3 // @31shadesofbrown // @whereismyangel-damnitdeanshare // @pilaxia // @screechingartisancashbailiff // @kgbrenner // @holylulusworld // @deansenwackles // @flamencodiva // @jamielea81 // @coffeebooksandfandom // @logical-princey // @gemini0410 // @salt-n-burn-em-all
“Aw, come on, really?” Cupid moaned and looked at the ledger again. “Dean Winchester? I’ve tried… I really have! But—but he’s so stubborn!”
Cupid pouted and sighed to Heaven. “How am I supposed to get him to actually follow his heart?” Shaking his head, he thought long and hard. Finally, he realized that the only way to get close enough was to infiltrate Dean’s favorite establishment. Lucky for him, there were several other matches he needed to make there. He took his orders that came straight from upstairs, made the arrangements and went about scoping out the local bar in Lebanon where he was going to have to nudge Dean Winchester’s true soulmate to start working at.
Finding Dan’s bar was a stroke of luck. It was Dean’s favorite place to go to after returning from a hunt or just a good place to kick back and have a beer when Sam was grating on his nerves. The best part was, it wasn’t too far from home.
Right around the middle of January, he noticed a new face on staff. She was only there a few nights a week, but she was cute and easily caught Dean’s eye. From the shadows, Cupid saw his chance, and took aim, hitting Dean Winchester squarely in the heart. The girl, however, bobbed and weaved at the last second, untouched by the arrow. Cupid watched in horror as she gave Dean a sweet smile but kept on moving.
Oh, fiddlesticks! Cupid wailed internally, wringing his proverbial hands over what to do…
Dean was writhing in his sleep again. The dream came, as it normally did, and he was helpless to stop it. It was almost every night now, and it was getting tiresome. Dean wasn’t sleeping, his waking thoughts were consumed, and when he did manage to close his eyes and rest his brain, it plagued him with dreams that he rather not experience any more.
For nearly three weeks straight, he had the same thoughts, day in and day out, and they were worse than the normal horror show that erupted in his head. These were not the day and night dreams of a man who had been to Hell, fought monsters and dealt with the Devil himself. These were thoughts of a man in love. For Dean Winchester, that was even scarier.
It had started innocently enough. A simple stop at his favorite bar in town had put her directly in his path. Dean had done nothing more than accidentally brush against her shoulder while she was carrying a try of drinks to a table. When they had briefly collided, she gracefully kept the tray’s balance, turned at him to wink and said, “Sorry, sugar. Didn’t see ya there.”
Dean had been momentarily left incapacitated by her simple action. Sure, she was beautiful—he’d seen more than his share of beautiful women—but this woman was an angel. A REAL angel; not one of the dickless wonders he was used to dealing with.
He stood, dumbfounded, as she walked away from him, her hips swaying with purpose as she delivered her table’s order. It took a minute or two of Sam tugging on his shirt to get his attention because she had all of it. Finally, Dean acknowledged his brother, nodding emphatically at whatever he was saying, and allowed himself to be pulled from the bar when their six-packs had been packaged up to go.
Since then, the girl had firmly taken root in his mind. He found himself going back to that bar to grab a drink, or pick up a bottle of whatever, just so he could see her. The next night, the dreams started. It wasn’t just a sex dream either, it was a full-on Dean Winchester patented fantasy special; lacey lingerie, handcuffs, whipped cream, a riding crop and multiple orgasms followed by… cuddling and declarations of love. When he woke, he was beyond thankful that he was in his own room at the bunker. Waking up with that big of a hardon in a motel room with his brother would have defined the word awkward.
When he saw her again after that, any chance of talking to her went out the window. Dean Winchester, Ladies Man and Deadly Hunter, became a bumbling fool. From then on, he would find himself hesitating outside of her bar, afraid to see her face to face, unsure if he would be able to hide this crazy, intense affection and attraction he had for her.
Three weeks since they bumped shoulders. Three weeks since he had been unable to make it happen with any other women; but not for the lack of trying. He didn’t even know the woman’s name, but any other woman he tried to spend an evening with was ruined by the image of this unknown waitress who dominated him in all sorts of ways.
February 14th
Normally that meant Dean’s favorite holiday, Valentine’s Day. This year, he kicked off the fourteenth with a book of Celtic Mythology at the table in the library, trying to concentrate on the text in front of him.
“Happy Unattached Drifter Christmas,” Sam teased as he joined Dean at the table, dropping his books with a ‘thud’ startling his brother to look up.
“Jesus,” Dean moaned and looked up accusingly. “Give a guy a heart attack why don’t you. I’m getting old, you know. My heart can’t take that crap.”
Sam rolled his eyes and flipped open his book. “Find anything?” he motioned towards Deans text with his chin.
“Nah, just a bunch of stuff we already know. You?”
“Not yet. We’ve about exhausted our end. I’ll make a few calls, see what I can dig up. You outta here soon?”
“To where?” Dean asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Sam snorted a laugh. “Uh, to find some poor woman to torture for a night?”
“Bite me, alright? Women love me.”
“Mhm, that’s why you’ve been a grumpy bastard, right? Cause all those girls you’ve been seeing…. Ohhhh right. There haven’t been any.”
“I hate you.”
“Seriously, Dean. Just go to the damn bar and ask her out. Three weeks of this has been enough.”
“Three weeks, it hasn’t been thre—” Dean stopped and did some calculations in his head before speaking again. “Three weeks, four days and about five hours…”
Sam raised his expression, his jaw slacked open in disbelief. “You’re right. It hasn’t been three weeks, it’s been longer!” he shook his head, the smile only growing and deepening his dimples. “I’ve never seen you like this over a girl you haven’t even talked to.”
“I’ve talked to her!” he said, then relented and changed his answer. “Kinda.”
“Dude, you turn into Porky Pig when you get around her,” Sam teased and mocked Dean in his best Porky impression. “We-we-we-well, hi there! Ai-ai-ain’t you pr-pr-pretty!”
“I really, really, hate you,” Dean admonished, standing up from the table. “You know what? Fine. I’m going over there, and I’m going to ask her out. Happy?”
Sam nodded. “Yes. If it gets you out of this weird funk you’ve been living in, I will be eternally happy to see you get laid.”
“Why couldn’t I have been an only child?” he mumbled to himself, raising his eyes to the ceiling and slightly shaking his head. Dean turned to leave the room, and without looking back called out “Don’t wait up!”
The Impala rolled to a stop along the curb across the street from the local bar where she worked. He could hear the music from inside spilling out onto the street. He paused before walking in and took in a deep breath. Looking down at his clothes, he wondered if he should have changed first. Dean was never the type to worry too much about his wardrobe, but suddenly he was concerned he looked like he just got off from his shift at the mill and not like a guy on a mission to win over a girl.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” he asked himself, shaking off the self-doubt that muddled around in his head. “Let’s do this.”
The bar was filled with local faces, some he recognized from around town, others he didn’t, but all of them were there to drink and have a good time for Valentine’s Day. Dean scanned the room, hoping to find her in the crowd, but there was no sign of her; just various couples making out, flirting, or having a few drinks. Walking over to the bar, he kept his eyes peeled, but there was no trace of his crush. When he finally reached the bar through the crowd, he flagged down the bartender.
“Dan! Double shot of whiskey and whatever you got on tap,” he called out over the noise.
The bartender nodded in acknowledgment and went about getting his drinks. Dean turned to face the room, leaning back against the old mahogany wood and continued to watch the sea of faces for the one he was looking for.
The jukebox faded out one song, and before the next queued up, a burst of noise came from the back corner of the bar, where the ‘Employees Only’ door lived. A crash of broken glass and shouts ensued and when Dean’s attention went that way, he finally caught sight of her.
“Whoa! Watch it, lady!” one of the guys roared, causing the entire bar to stop and take notice.
Dean immediately cut through the gathering of people who stopped and watched the scene play out. The waitress he’d been looking for was scrambling to clean up a gigantic mess. He didn’t see it happen, but he was at her side in seconds, trying to make room and help her clean up the shards of glass.
Dean took her hands in his and saw they had a few small cuts. “Hey, leave it for a second, alright,” he said, soft enough for only her to hear. That’s when she made eye contact with him. A slow, grateful smile unfurled on her face as she saw him there.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get your hands looked at, make sure you’re alright,” Dean said, gingerly taking her palms. He didn’t even realize that the usual bout of nerves he had around her had faded completely. The moment she had made eye contact with him while hovering over broken glass, all of that was gone and he was completely at ease.
Making physical contact with her, after all this time dreaming about it, made everything else fall away. The noise and swell of the music now behind him, Dean couldn’t hear anything as the entirety of his focus was on her.
“What’s your name?” he asked, turning her palms over to check the backs of her hands.
“(Y/N),” she mumbled, “thank you for your concern, sugar, but I’m okay. I just need to clean this up.”
“I’ll take care of it, you go back to the office, or wherever and get yourself a couple band aids.”
“It’s fine, I—”
“Please, I insist,” Dean said, giving her his softest gaze and smile.
The bartender sidled up along side them and began sweeping the glass. “Go, (Y/N), he’s right, a couple of those are gonna be bleeders.”
“Come on, I’ll go with you. I’m great at first aid,” he said proudly, immediately regretting it.
“Alright,” she relented and walked back through the ‘Employees Only’ door as Dean followed.
From the recesses of the corner, Cupid smiled. He sighed with relief that this time, he had hit his secondary target, perfectly.
I just feel bad I made her drop tray, he thought as he scratched Dean Winchester’s and (Y/F/N Y/L/N)’s from his ledger. He clutched to his chest, grinning warmly, just as they disappeared into the back room together.
Once it closed, he closed his eyes dreamily and patted himself on the back for a job well done before disappearing to return to Heaven.
“Thanks for the assist out there,” you said, as he pulled back the wrapping and laid the band aid across the worst of the cuts.
“It’s my pleasure. There, all done,” he smiled after applying the last one. His hand lingered on yours. I hope he never removes it, you thought, and felt your body flash warm as he held your hand.
“Thank you. I really could have managed it, but I sure do appreciate your kindness,” you said, gently placing your other hand on his knee.
He blushed a little and seemed to get slightly nervous. “I’m, uh, Dean, by the way.”
“Dean… yes. I’ve seen you around here a lot. Its nice to finally have a name for the very handsome face.”
And what a face he had. You knew who he was, you had known who he was the first night you bumped into each other. You thought by the way he had looked at you, he might try to flirt, but he never did. In fact, he would avoid you when he could, though his eyes never seemed to be able to leave you. You certainly didn’t mind it. But as the weeks went on, he never uttered more than a few stumbling words at you before grabbing his beer and running out the door.
The door to the office opened, and Dan came in, shaking his head when he saw the band aids on your hands. “Look, (Y/N), why don’t you head home. I called Trish, she’s been wanting the extra shift, and I’d rather you just call it a night.”
“I’m fine to keep working, Dan. Honest.”
“You’ll still get your usual pay and cut of tips, no worries, okay?”
“Dan—”
“Please, (Y/N), I insist. Go home for tonight, come back for your shift tomorrow.”
You sighed and relented. “Fine. I’ll go home.”
From the corner of your eye, you saw Dean’s face fall in disappointment, which made you wonder if maybe he did like you, after all.
Dan said goodnight, shook Dean’s hand and told him that the drinks he had ordered were on the house. Once he left the room and closed the door, you stood up from the desk chair and grabbed your personal belongings from the bottom drawer.
“Well, this night took a turn,” you laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it.
Dean shifted nervously on his feet. “I’d say. Its early though. If you didn’t want to go home, I could, maybe… do you need a ride or anything? Are you hungry? Did you eat anything? We can go grab some food, or—”
“Dean,” you jumped in, “if you’re trying to ask me out, the answer is yes.” Your heart was pounding out of your chest, but you did your best to remain calm. You’d been hoping for this for a while and now that it was happening, you found yourself also a pile of nerves.
“Really? That’s great,” he replied and smiled sheepishly. “That’s really, really awesome. I know its last minute and all—”
“That’s okay,” you said, jumping in. “Honestly, the second I looked up and saw you sitting there, I just… I don’t know… immediately wanted to come over and say hi.”
“But then pool table guy bumped you, and—”
“No, he didn’t actually. That was all me being a klutz. I saw you standing at the bar and I froze. Then, it was weird, actually, I felt like I got hit by something and it just startled me. So much so that I dropped the tray.”
You laughed, and thought Dean would find you completely insane, but he simply nodded. “I think I know what you mean.”
“So, where should we go?” you asked, anxious to get out of there and be somewhere quiet with him. “Everywhere decent is going to be packed to capacity.”
Dean thought for a second. “How do you feel about maybe, possibly, being a little cold. But I promise it will be worth it.”
“I have a coat, I can tolerate cold,” you grinned. When Dean put out his hand, you took it and he entwined his fingers with yours, taking special care not to aggravate your cuts.
Thirty minutes and a stop at the Gas ‘n Sip later, Dean was directing his car into a wide-open field a few miles out of town. The February air was cold, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. From the trunk, Dean brought out two large blankets and laid one on the ground right near the front of the car. He motioned for you to sit before going to the back seat to retrieve the bag from the gas station.
“Alright,” he said, sitting down on the blanket. “Have a seat.”
You did and within a moment of sitting beside him, he took the second blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders, then his own. From inside his jacket pocket, he produced a flask and handed it to you.
“You just happened to have two big, fluffy blankets in your trunk. Sure you weren’t planning this?”
“I have, but not this, exactly,” he flashed you a sexy smile and wiggled his eye brows playfully. “My brother and I travel a lot for work. So, I keep them there in case we gotta crash in the car.” Dean rifled through the plastic bag and removed two Hostess pies, two bags of chips and other assorted snacks. “Sorry its not a proper dinner, but that’s what I get for asking you out last minute.”
You shrugged. “Hey man, I was pulling a double shift and closing down the bar on Valentine’s day. I’ll take this, happily. Especially if I get to hang out with you.”
Dean shook his head in disbelief. “I did come to the bar to ask you out, but I certainly didn’t think we’d do it tonight. Can’t say I’m upset with how things turned out though.”
“Me either,” you breathed and raised his flask before taking a swig and handing it back. The liquor burned on your throat, but it felt nice and warm going down. “So, not to make this awkward or anything, but why did it take you so long to ask me out?”
“You made me nervous,” he admitted bashfully. “There was just something about you I couldn’t get out of my head. Then when I’d see you…” he shrugged.
“Can I be honest with you?”
“Of course.”
“You’ve been on my mind a lot, lately. And that’s not usual for me by the way, especially with some guy I don’t know.” You paused and looked up at the sky that was dotted with thousands of stars and a waning moon. You could feel his eyes on you, and as much as you wanted to gaze into them, you were afraid to look and just kept babbling. “I get hit on by some creeper every night, and every night, I wished it was you coming in to see me.”
Dean closed his eyes and snorted a laugh. “If you had any idea how many times I came in, specifically to see you…”
“So, what you’re saying is, we’ve both liked each other for a while, but each have been too scared to make a move?”
“Seems that way,” he said, pulled from the flask and handed it back to you.
“Now, its Valentine’s Day, of all days, and here we are. Sitting under the stars with a picnic and a flask.”
“What can I say, my timing is amazing,” he teased. Dean let his eyes wander over your face, and when he put an arm around your shoulders, you immediately leaned into him.
You sighed contently against the stranger you’d been crushing on for weeks. “I’m suddenly not nervous anymore.” You felt Dean’s body shift against yours, it stiffened then relaxed again, his grip on your shoulder tighter.
“I’m not either,” he rasped. You felt him shift again. Dean loosened his arm around your shoulders, and gingerly guided your face up towards his with his other hand. “For the first time in weeks, I don’t feel like an idiot around you. And, I’d really like to kiss you now…”
He left you speechless. The whole night left you completely, utterly, speechless. For almost a month, you had seen his face in the bar on countless occasions. A few quick conversations here and there, made you interested in him, but the way he was making you feel in that moment, didn’t seem possible to happen in such a short amount of time.
Dean took your silence into another moment of consideration. You wanted to kiss him, needed to, so you did. You tilted your head, rested your hand against his knee, then sat up more and pressed your lips to his.
God he’s soft, you thought as you kissed him, So deliciously, soft.
Taking it slow, enjoying the parting and coming back together of your lips. His hands were tentative but started to explore other parts of your body as the comingling of your mouths continued. Your heart began to beat faster the further his hand traveled up your leg stretched out before you. When Dean pulled back from you and sat up on his knees, you didn’t hesitate to reposition yourself, for him to lay you down.
Dean did just that, then took the blanket and tossed it around his shoulders like a cape, before leaning down and hovering over you. You thought you could hear his heart pounding, just as loudly as yours. His eyes frantically scanned over your features before he caressed the side of your face.
“I feel like I’ve been waiting for you forever,” he mumbled. Before you could respond, he dove back to your lips and kissed you.
He kissed you like no one ever had before. It was soft and moist, and the longer it continued, the heavier you both were breathing. The February air didn’t phase you one bit, because the moment his tongue broke through, pairing with yours, a depth of heat rose and filled the space you shared under the blanket with him. Dean moaned into your mouth, his hips twitching as your leg curled up around his thighs. Your arms were wrapped up around him, his were moving all over your body.
“Jesus,” he breathed, parting for a moment of air. “What the Hell…”
“What? Is everything okay?” you were trying to catch your own breath, but worried he was regretful.
“No, its just… where did this come from?”
“I don’t know. Chalk it up to Valentine’s Day?”
Dean chuckled. “Sweetheart, it could be the middle of July or the dead of winter, and I’d still want to carry you to the backseat of my car and tear your clothes off right now.”
You smirked and raised a challenging brow. “So, what’s stopping you?”
“Good God, where have you been all my life?” he asked, scrambling to sitting back up on his knees. “But, I mean, we just met. I don’t want to rush—”
You got up and met his eye line as you sat up on your knees. “Have you ever just felt like something was right? Meant to be? That’s how I feel right now and, you know what, who knows or cares why.”
Dean exhaled and nodded slowly. “You’re absolutely right.”
He stood and reached a hand down to help you up. When you were on your feet, Dean kissed you again. The kissing was nice, he was the best you’d ever had the pleasure of enjoying, but you wanted more. You needed more. Taking his bottom lip between yours, you released it slowly, grazing your teeth as you did, which seemed to trigger something in him.
Dean took your hand and hurriedly pulled you around to the passenger side of the car, not forgetting to take the one blanket with him. Minutes later you were straddling his lap in the backseat of his Impala, as his lips covered the swell of your breasts and his hands drew down the silk cup of your bra. Your hands were around the back of his neck, pressing his head into your chest; your head rolling back as his lips clamped down around your nipple.
You could feel his erection growing through his jeans, the harder it pressed into your thigh, the more you wanted to feel it inside you. Your ache for him was maddening, and you were starting to feel a bit lightheaded from his touch. It felt crazy, absolutely insane in fact, to desire someone you barely knew, the way you did. Yet…
“Dean,” you moaned in a delicate whisper.
He didn’t raise his head but trailed his lips across your chest and back up to your neck. Dean gripped your neck, pulling it down so his mouth was on your ear. “Say my name again and tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
“I want to see you,” you rasped and ran your hands down his chest, stopping at his belt buckle. You pulled your head back to catch his gaze. His green eyes full of lust, his nostrils flaring slightly in excited anticipation of what was to come. He moved his hips and pushed down his jeans, allowing his cock to spring free. “I want to taste you,” you purred and stood up as best you could and worked at removing your own jeans. “Then, I want to feel you inside me… Dean.” His name fell from your lips with a breathy expulsion.
Bending over, you brought your lips to the tip of his dick as you let your clothes slip to the floor of the car. Once free of any restraints, the apex of your thighs craved the feeling of him slipping deep inside you. But first, you wanted him to want you just as badly. He tried to guide you back to his lap, but you wanted to taste him first. The urge to be with him, touch every square inch of him just drove you to act on instinct. No doubt or hesitation crept in. You wanted him, all of him, and from the way he was digging his fingers into your legs, and the way his eyes were devouring you, you thought he felt the same way.
Your mouth covered as much as of him as it could. Dean snaked his hand around to the inside of your thighs and reached up into your folds, making your grip on his shaft tighten in response.
“Fuck,” he moaned, his mouth slacked open as his head rolled back against the seat.
His fingers worked you over, slowly at first, but as your hips moved involuntarily along with his motion, he went faster. Lasting for only another moment, you felt the first flutters of your climax and abruptly pulled his hand from you.
“Not yet,” you commanded, releasing his dick with a pop of your lips.
You hovered back over his lap, meaning to tease him, but Dean would have no teasing. He took your hips and positioned himself, easily sliding up into your entrance, but not quite filling you. He was gentle, and though you were dazed with how much you wanted him, the way he was making you feel was euphoric. It wasn’t just the sensation of the sex, it was the intimacy that you felt as he held your gaze. It was the way his hands caressed the skin on your thighs, up your sides, cupping your breasts, then moving back down the way he came as you rocked against him.
Biting on his lower lip, he thrusted up into you, hitting your hilt and making you inhale sharply. Your breath released in a quiver, making him grin a satisfied smirk. It only last, a minute, as you moved your hips not just back and forth, but side to side. The friction against your clit was enough to finally break your resolve, and your walls to flutter around him.
“Jesu—” your breath faltered as your climax ruptured around him. It didn’t phase Dean’s penetrating thrusts as he bounced you on his lap, and you gripped his shoulders holding on for dear life.
Between his movements and your orgasm, you felt lightheaded and cried his name in a raspy moan. Dean pushed you into him, his head buried in your chest as he quickly lifted you off him before his own climax expelled all over his abdomen. He held you that way until he was able to get his breathing under control, but even once he did, he didn’t release you right away.
You peeled yourself from him, sitting back just enough to take his face in your hands and turn it up to yours.
“That was intense,” you said, your voice soft and dreamy. You felt like you were under a spell, under his spell. A sensation you never had before and thought you could live in forever.
“Very,” he replied, and ran his tongue slowly over his bottom lip. “Are you alright?”
“Better than,” you smiled, and gently kissed his lips.
Dean reached over and grabbed the blanket, wrapping it around you both as you climbed off his lap and snuggled into his side.
“Cold?” he asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and kissing the top of your head.
“No, not even a little.” You drew the blanket tighter around you, enjoying the cocoon it created for you and Dean.
There was a brief, awkward silence as you just starred at each other, unsure of what to say. Its not that there were questions rolling around in your head, or that you were wondering what came next. There was an unfamiliar level of certainty that what had just transpired meant something, more than just a one-night stand on a very triggering holiday.
“Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not exactly sure how to ask this, but—”
“You wanna know what this means?”
“No. It doesn’t matter what it means… because it meant something. At least that’s how I feel. You don’t just meet someone and have that intense of a, um…” you felt your skin flash hot with a moment of embarrassment “encounter, without it meaning something. But that wasn’t what I was going to ask.”
“Oh,” he said and looked away for a moment, his expression thoughtful in contemplation. “What did you want to ask then?”
“The snacks. We left them outside and honestly, I’m starving. Maybe we should head back to my place. I could cook us something… maybe we could watch a movie or just have sex again?”
“Or all three?”
“Yeah, that works, too,” you laughed and leaned forward to retrieve your pants from the floor.
Once you were both properly clothed again, Dean grabbed the remains of the picnic and threw it in the back seat while you gazed up at the stars. Just above the horizon, a few meteors streaked across the sky. You felt a soft smile touch your lips, not just because of the celestial show before you, but because of who you were sharing it with.
“Some night, huh?” he asked, wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind and guiding you to lean back into him.
“Yeah, craziest night of my life, honestly.”
“Do you mind a little crazy every now and again?”
“Depends. Good crazy, or bad crazy?”
“What if I said a little of both?”
“You’re being cryptic, but I kinda dig it. I could handle both, why do you ask?”
Dean shrugged and looked up at the stars. “I’d like to see you, more. A lot more, actually. But my life… it gets—”
“Crazy?”
He chuckled and brushed a piece of hair the February breeze brought onto your face. “That’s putting it mildly, but yeah. Think that’s something you’d be up for?”
You thought about what he said and realized that the only answer in your head was yes. Yes, you think you would be up for just about anything if he was with you. Your first date was a testament to that.
“If that,” you motioned towards the backseat “was just the beginning of this? Darlin’ I think I could handle just about anything.”
Dean kissed her, his heart was already experiencing a level of attachment to a woman he didn’t think would ever be meant for him. There was no rhyme or reason to it. It was as if Cupid himself put a spell over them. Even if the happy little angel did have a hand in making it happen, Dean was still pretty damn happy. So much, in fact, he would forgive the interference.
Opening the car door for (Y/N), he waited until she was settled before kneeling down at the open door.
“(Y/N), I want you to know that it did mean something to me, too. I don’t know where this goes, what really happens next. But I don’t care. Sometimes life is too damn short to question everything.” He shrugged, took her hand and kissed the back of it.
“Amen to that… Shit. I don’t even know your last name,” she laughed and seemed slightly embarrassed.
“Winchester. Yours?”
“(Y/L/N),” she smiled and squeezed his hand.
“Well alright, Ms. (Y/L/N). Shall we go?”
“Yes, I’m starving!”
He stood up, leaned in to kiss her lips again before closing the door and walking around to get in behind the wheel. Before he got in, he looked back up to the sky and smiled.
“Goodbye Unattached Drifter Christmas… hello Saint Valentine…” the corner of his mouth cocked up into a smirk and he jumped into the car, ready to whisk his new girl off to continue their date.
#pond galentine’s day exchange#Dean winchester x reader#dean x reader insert#dean winchester smut#spn fanfics#valentines day fic
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Whole list for Illyana and Mikhail, pls!!!!
Absolutely!
What is their favourite food: Illyana likes chocolate, and Mikhail likes vodka pirogis.
Do they have a fear of an animal? If so, what animal: Not really. They’re both p fearless in that regards.
What do they wear to bed: Illyana has an entire collection of goth colored pajamas, and Mikhail opts to wear as little as possible lol.
Do they like cuddling: Illyana doesn’t, Mikhail does.
Do they have a secret handshake with anyone: Mikhail makes secret handshakes with each of his niblings.
What do they look like: Pretty much like they do in the comics, except Mikhail doesn’t have the scaring and his hair is wavier, and I like to draw Illyana with a longer/thinner face.
Do they like chocolate: Sure.
What are their good and bad traits: Mikhail is extremely creative and expressive, but he also occasionally just... expresses all over people, if that makes sense. Illyana is cunning and clever, but definitely runs the end of being too ruthless at times.
Do they have any artistic talent: Yes! Mikhail plays guitar, Illyana plays violin, and Mikhail is actually quite gifted with theater and crafting.
What is their favourite room to be in, in the house they live in: The two of them move around a bit, since they can teleport and take jobs almost wherever, provided they speak the language. Illyana prefers anywhere quiet (usually her room), and Mikhail generally likes being in the middle of everything.
Do they believe in luck: Sure, but they’re both ambivalent about it.
Can they do magic: Illyana can do “magic” magic, and Mikhail can do sleight of hand magic.
Do they believe in dragons: Considering Lexie has made several exist, they kind of have to.
What is a pet peeve of theirs: Neither of them like being controlled.
What was the last thing they cried about: Mikhail tends to angry/frustrated cry, but he does it in private. Illyana cries when Nikolai and Alexandra pass away.
What is their sexuality: Mikhail is bisexual and Illyana is asexual.
Do they have a best friend? If so, who, and what makes them their best friend: Illyana is friends/eventual partners with Kitty and Lorna, who accept her for her full Slytherin self, blunt edges and all. Mikhail winds up striking quite the (platonic only) camaraderie with Neena, since they both have similar outlooks on life.
Have they ever been in a romantic relationship: Yep!
What does their relationship with their family look like? Are they close? Distant? Ect: Mikhail kinda runs the end of being a little estranged, due to some of his “less than legal” pastimes and sensitivity. He’s closest with Nikolai, then Illyana, then Alexandra, then Piotr. As he gets older, gets treatment for his bipolar disorder and the support he needs, and becomes more confident in himself, he’s able to repair those relationships. Illyana... is as close as she wants to be with her family.
Do they have a pet: Illyana, Kitty, and Lorna foster cats together.
Do they have a familiar: Still don’t know what that is, so no.
Are they a supernatural being: You could make the argument that Illyana, as the Sorceress Supreme of Limbo and wielder of the Soul Sword, has some supernatural aspects to her. The supernatural thing about Mikhail, though, is his morning breath. #stank
How do they usually wear their hair: Illyana wears hers down most of the time, and Mikhail usually wears his in a man bun.
Can they play an instrument? If so, what instrument and what can they play: Illyana plays the violin and Mikhail plays the guitar, and they play a lot of rock music/covers together.
What type a high schooler are/were they: Illyana was the art student who managed to get good grades, and Mikhail was the kid that lived in detention.
Have they ever been in a physical fight before? If so, with who? Who won: Yep. They’ve had several, wins and losses, whole nine yards.
What is their favourite holiday: Illyana likes, believe it or not, Valentine’s Day. Mikhail like Halloween.
If they could have one wish, what would they wish for: Look, wishes weird me out, so I’m just skipping this one.
Do they wants kids? If they already have kids, do they want more: Neither of them want kids.
Do they have a job: Illyana winds up working as a professional violinist and a music teacher for the Institute, and Mikhail does whatever he feels like, but mostly various “not legal” jobs.
Do they know how to drive: Mikhail does, Illyana doesn’t.
Do they get stressed out easily: Mikhail does, Illyana doesn’t.
Did they ever dye their hair before? If so, to what colour? Did they like it: Mikhail dyed his hair orange on a bet, then shaved it off the next day as a teen. Illyana likes her hair the way it is.
Have they ever broken the law: Yes. Illyana just didn’t get caught and is smart enough to not brag about it.
Do they own a plant: Nope.
Have they ever rode a horse before: Yes.
What is their favorite gif: Pass.
Do they get along with others easily: They both do. For all that Illyana may look unapproachable with her goth/dark aesthetic, she’s a good listener and relatively companionable.
Do they have any tattoos: Yes.
If I wanted to draw them, what would be distinct physical features that I would have to know to draw them correctly: Eh, already mentioned that above.
What is their favourite breed of dog: Mikhail likes Newfoundlands, and Illyana likes cats.
Do they live with anyone? If so, who: Mikhail bounces around from staying with Nikolai and Alexandra, to staying with the Reader and Piotr when they need an extra hand with kids, to hanging out with Wade and Nate, to chilling on his own, to rooming with Neena... he’s a free spirit, to say the least. Illyana winds up sharing a small house with Kitty and Lorna.
Where is their dream vacation: Mikhail’s idea of a dream vacation is throwing a dart at a map and making the most of an experience. Illyana’s idea of a dream vacation is not having to deal with either of her brothers.
Do they know more than one language: Yes. Mikhail is conversational in several languages due to his travels, and speaks Russian fluently (obvs). Illyana picks up English as she gets older, and also speaks Russian.
Are they a quick learner: Depends on what the subject is, but they both do alright.
Have they ever won a contest before? If so, what for? What did they win: They’ve won a few music contests with their duets. Most of it was various cash prizes.
If the world were to end in 24 hours, where would they be and who would they be with: They’d be with their family and friends.
What does their room look like: Mikhail’s is an explosion of all his belongings, and Illyana’s almost pathologically neat.
If they could have an extinct animal for a pet, what would they have: Mikhail would resurrect a T-Rex if he was able, and Illyana would skip the whole deal because she knows better than to get into resurrection magic.
If they got called out by someone, what would they do: Mikhail usually explodes, and Illyana either listens silently or straight up walks away while they’re talking.
Have they ever shot a gun before: Yes.
Have they ever been axe throwing: Mikhail has.
What is something that they want but can’t have: Mikhail wants a T-Rex. Illyana, admittedly would like to be able to go places without hearing people’s thoughts.
Do they know how to fish: Yes.
What is something they always wanted to do but too scared: Mikhail is afraid of commitment, so interpret that however you will. Illyana... doesn’t necessarily know fear as we do lsdkfjklsjflskdf jk jk it’s probably something like skydiving.
Do they own their own baby pictures: No.
What makes them standout among others: Their aesthetics. They both dress in a lot of black.
Do they like to show off: Mikhail does, Illyana doesn’t care one way or the other.
What is their favourite song: They both like “Ride the Lightning” by Metallica.
What would be their dream vehicle: Pass.
What is their favourite book: Mikhail likes “Much Ado About Nothing,” and Illyana likes “Pride and Prejudice.”
Who, in their opinion, makes the best food: Nikolai.
Are they approachable: If you’re willing to get past the mostly black clothes, yeah.
Did they ever change their appearance: Sure. They both like to experiment (though Illyana does stick within her goth bubble once she finds it).
What makes them smile: Family, funny movies, their niblings.
Do they like glowsticks: Sure.
What is something that is simple, but always makes them smile: For Mikhail, getting a hug from one (or both) of his parents. For Illyana, talking (or listening to) Kittty and/or Lorna.
Are they a day or night person: Night people.
Are they allergic to anything: Nope. Though Mikhail likes to joke Illyana’s allergic to silver, the sun, garlic...
What do you, the creator of this OC, like most about them: Okay, I didn’t technically create them, but Marvel basically left them blank and I moved in oops. I do like Mikhail’s passion for life and doing things, and I like Illyana’s easy-going (mostly) temperament.
Who is their ride or die: Each other and Piotr (and later, for Illyana, Kitty and Lorna).
Do they currently have a significant other? If not, are they going to get one later one: Mikhail kinda dates around without settling down, and Illyana winds up in a poly relationship with Kitty Pryde and Lorna Dane.
What attracts them to another person: For Mikhail, creativity, emotional openness, and a nice smile. For Illyana, resiliency of spirit, individuality, and willingness to try things.
Who is one person that can always make them laugh: For Mikhail, his niblings. For Illyana, Kitty or Lorna.
Have they ever partied too hard and their friends had to take them home: Mikhail definitely has, and Illyana doesn’t like parties.
Who would be their cuddle buddy: Mikhail is an open opportunity cuddler, and Illyana only cuddles with Kitty and Lorna.
Who would cheer them up after a long day: Seeing the people they love most.
If they had a nightmare, who would they run to: They talk to each other, actually. Illyana helps Mikhail sort through some of his nightmares triggered by his bipolar disorder, and Mikhail acts as Illyana’s confidant for her nightmares (which usually relate to her magical abilities or random thoughts she picks up from other people).
What object to the care for the most: Mikhail cares about his leather jacket and his guitar, and Illyana cares about her violin.
Do they like other people’s children: Yes.
How would they react if someone broke into their home: Mikhail would shoot the intruder, and Illyana would teleport them to another plane of reality.
Does anyone make them have butterflies in their stomach: Mikhail gets butterflies from anyone he’s interested in, and Illyana gets them only from Kitty and Lorna.
What is something that they are good at: Aside from their innate talents, Mikhail is good at carving wood and Illyana is good at random trivia accumulation.
What is their neutral expression: Mikhail is plain ol’ neutral, and Illyana is either resting nice face or resting bitch face, no in between.
Do they like to cook: They both do.
What is something they can’t leave home without: Illyana doesn’t leave without her keys/phone/etc, and Mikhail usually wears his leather jacket everywhere.
Who is someone that they rely on: Each other. They’re each other’s confidants for the deepest, darkest shit in their heads.
Do they liked to be tickled: Mikhail’s fine with it, Illyana does not.
Have they ever been a sword fight before: Yes.
What is a joke that they would find funny: Illyana likes only really stupid knock knock jokes and the darkest humor to ever exist, and Mikhail... is about the same, but with sex jokes thrown in.
Do they have a place that can go and turn off their brain: Mikhail plays his guitar, and Illyana plays her violin or meditates.
What was their childhood like: Pretty happy. Nikolai and Alexandra did a good job with them.
What are they like as an adult: Mikhail gains equilibrium when his bipolar disorder is treated, but is still very free-spirited and emotional. Illyana is more practical and aloof.
Do they take criticism well: Mikhail does not, and Illyana is selective about who she takes criticism from.
Have they ever jumped out of a plane: Mikhail has, Illyana hasn’t.
Who do they like to make jokes with: Each other. They both get each other’s sense of humor.
Have you ever drawn them before? If you are comfortable with it, would you post a picture: Not yet, but I probably will in the future.
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Conversation Hearts
Genre: Valentine’s Day, Soulmate AU, Fluff
Pairing: MarkXreader
Summary: Mark wants to find his soulmate, and the Valentine’s Day Conversation Hearts help him find it.
Warning: So much fluff it will give you a cavity
Word Count: 35099
Masterlist
“Next please,” the Got7 manager said, as he waved the next fan onto the stage.
JYP decided, for the first time ever, to have a fan meeting in (y/c). This fan meeting was different than all the others held there, because it was going to be more like a fan meeting that they had in Korea. A line of fans were meeting all the members of Got7, and giving them gifts.
JYP decided to have this fan meeting on Valentine’s day, because this was the only day that the guys had a chance to find their soulmates, without having to touch them. So, JYP had made sure to distribute a box of conversation hearts to all of the fans attending the meeting today, to give to their bias. As soon as the guys got a heart, from their soulmate, they would know it was them.
You walked up to BamBam, who was the first person in line. He held out his hand for the box of hearts, but you kept it close to you heart, and shook your head. You did give him a paper valentine though, sent by one of your friends for him. He pouted, but accepted the paper valentine, before he signed your CD.
Next you walked up to Jackson, who was next in line. He eyed the box of hearts, but you blushed, and shook your head. He pouted too, and crossed his arms across his chest. You giggled, and held out a box of chocolates, and his eyes brightened. You knew that he loved chocolates, and so did the fan who sent the chocolates with you to give to him. He thanked you, and then signed your CD.
JB was next, and he smiled at you. You smiled back, handed him a valentine that you made, and then one that your friend had made. Your conversation hearts, though, you kept to yourself. He eyed you, put on a stern face, and motioned for the box. You firmly shook your head. He sighed, in exasperation, before he signed your CD.
Jinyoung was next, and he held out his hand for the hearts. You shook your head, holding them close. He raised his eyebrows, held out his hand again, and smiled charmingly at you. You shook your head again, biting your lip. He reached out for them, and you moved them behind your back. Jinyoung laughed, and shook his head, before he signed your CD.
Mark was next. You blushed, and Jinyoung sighed. “This fan is going to give Mark the hearts,” he said, to the other four men.
“How do you know?” BamBam asked.
“Just look,” Jinyoung said, with a smile.
Truth was that, at this meeting, Mark had gotten the least amount of boxes. He had fifteen boxes, while the rest had small piles, Jackson being the most popular. It might have something to do with the fact that he was very quiet, and rather shy and reserved when he dealt with fans.
You walked up to him, and he looked up at you. He smiled, a very dazzling smile, and waved at you. You blushed, and waved back. Mark took your CD, asked your name, and signed your CD. He handed the CD back, and you took it shyly. Biting your lower lip, you handed Mark the box of hearts, and his face lit up. He smiled wider, and he took the box from you.
“Thanks,” he said, writing your name on the box, and putting them on the table. “I hope your my soulmate.”
You giggled, and blushed, but you nodded. “I hope so too.”
You waved, hiding behind your CD to hide your blush, and you went to Youngjae next. He pouted because he saw you give the box of hearts to Mark. You giggled, and gave him a picture valentine of one of your friends, with her two little fur babies. He smiled, liking the picture. He signed your CD, and you went on to Yugyeom.
You walked over to the bus stop, after the fan meeting. You were still blushing hard at the thought that you had given your box of conversation hearts to Mark Tuan. You had avoided Valentine’s Day your whole life, afraid of finding your soulmate.
Today, you had gotten a fan meeting ticket, and not just any fan meeting, a Got7 meeting. You weren’t sure that you wanted to give Mark the hearts or not, but you knew you wanted to go. When JYP’s staff had handed out conversation hearts right at the beginning, you knew you had no choice. Mark was getting conversation hearts.
You blushed, as you remembered Mark smiling a dazzling smile at you, and you heart fluttered. Oh, you loved that man! You hoped that he was your soulmate, but you understood that he had to open those hearts first, and that he might not be.
You hoped he opened his hearts soon.
Mark sighed, as he opened the third box of hearts he’d gotten. He took out a conversation heart. “Kiss Me,” it ordered, and he shrugged, throwing the box of hearts away.
“No luck yet?” Jackson asked, sitting next to him.
“Nah,” Mark answered.
“So that blushy fah,” Jinyoung added, sitting in front of Mark. “That fan was very nice, and seems to be perfect for you.”
Mark smiled as he thought your pink, blushing cheeks. “That fan looked like a tomato,” he said, nodding. Then he frowned, and shrugged. “I’m just gonna wait until I get to Seoul.”
As he got into Seoul, he forgot all about the boxes of conversation hearts. He went back to his apartment, looked around, and wondered why the hell he’d gotten his own place. He missed the guys, and he hated being all alone. He was lonely.
This was the reason that he had told JYP he wanted to find his soulmate. He wanted to share his home with someone. He wanted to come home, and yell out “Honey, I’m home!” and have that someone run, excitedly from the back of the apartment and throwing herself into his arms.
He sighed again, and went to the kitchen. He turned on the stove to make, yet another ramen, and sighed, as he turned on his V-Live. He smiled, and waved, as he pulled on a hoodie, and went back to the kitchen.
“Hey, guys!” he said, waving. “So, I made it home safely! I’m about to make something to eat. Happy Valentine’s day!” He squinted, and read the comments. “Did you get any candy hearts?” He giggled. “Yes, I did. Do you want me to open a box?” There was an overwhelming yes on the comments side. “Ok, let me get a box.”
He was pretty sure that his soulmate wasn’t in Houston. He was so sure that he took one of the boxes from that fan meet, and opened it. He furrowed his brow, and tilted his head to the side, as a weird urge to grab the pink and orangey heart in his fingers. He took that heart, and his eyes widened.
“Kiss me,” the heart urged, and he had to.
“Oh my God,” he whispered.
“Oh, he found his soulmate!” the comments exploded. “Go, go, go!”
“I have to go guys,” he said, his voice cracking. He turned off the V-Live, and ran out the door. He was halfway down the hall when he realized he’d left the stove on in his kitchen. He ran back, and turned it off, before he hailed a cab to go to JYP’s house.
JYP opened the door right away, as Mark was knocking like a mad man. “What’s the matter?” JYP asked, looking him up and down. “Are you ok? Are you hurt?”
“N…n…no,” he said, shaking his head. He held out the box of hearts, and bit his lip.
“You scared the hell out of me over a box of hearts!” JYP said, running a hand along his face. “Why the hell are you doing this to me?”
“I…I…I found…” Mark said, shaking the hearts box.
“What?” JYP asked, a smile on his face. “Who is it?”
“My soulmate’s name is Y/N,” Mark said, not even needing to read the name from the box. “It’s the blushy fan, the last one to give me the box. The fan has (y/h/c), (y/h/s) hair, and soft (y/e/c) eyes, and went to the fan meet in (y/c).”
“Mark, that’s wonderful.”
“I need to go back.”
“That’s not possible.”
“PD-nim, you don’t understand. I have to find Y/N. I have to go. I can’t fight this need to…to…to…” He turned the conversation heart in his hand, and JYP laughed.
“You want to kiss your soulmate?”
“Yes,” Mark said, desperately. “You have no idea! Ever since I touched that stupid heart, all I want to do is kiss Y/N.”
JYP laughed, and shook his head. “You picked a hell of a time to find your soulmate. You have to record.” JYP sighed. “Ok, how about in two weeks, once you’re done, you can go home, and try to find Y/N.”
“Two weeks?” Mark asked, his head telling him that that was logical. He still had a job to do. But his heart was arguing the point. He had to find her now. “Two weeks. I can do two weeks.”
For two weeks, Mark and the boys recorded their songs for the comeback. At least once a day, he was overwhelmed by the urge to go and find his soulmate. He would catch himself wondering what you were doing, and the boys were quick to notice.
He would suddenly, out of nowhere, get the incredible urge to kiss you, and the longing would give him pause. He would stumble through the dance, or stutter a couple of times while singing or rapping, or while talking. Again, the boys were quick to notice.
“Hey, Mark,” Jackson said, a grin in his voice.
Mark closed his eyes. He’d just stumbled through a few very easy dance moves, as his brain told him to hurry up, find you, and kiss you. Mark cleared his throat, turned to look at his younger friend, and then raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah?”
“You think if you kiss me the urge will go away, and you’ll be able to dance?” he laughed.
Mark rolled his eyes.
“No, no,” BamBam said, shaking his head. “Your eyes aren’t the right shade. Don’t you know they have to be a soft light (y/e/c). Your hair is to short, and not (y/h/s).”
Mark sighed. Why did this have to happen now?
“Guys, leave him alone,” JYP said, coming into the room, a smirk on his face. “I know that you guys are having a laugh at his torment, but from the stand point of someone who had to suffer just as much, it’s hard.”
“We know,” Jinyoung answered, nodding. “And we know that he’s hard for Y/N.”
Mark’s ears turned pink, and even this time JYP couldn’t help but giggle. He cleared his throat before he turned to address Mark.
“Pack your bags,” JYP said, smiling. “Your plane leaves in five hours, and you have to be at the airport an hour before departure.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. Mark was out the door before JYP could finish his sentence. What JYP didn’t know was that Mark’s bags had been packed for two weeks. They were in the back of his car, and he had been ready to go the second JYP said he could.
You landed in LA, and something was different. Something urged you to turn around, and to walk to the back of the airport. You cleared your throat, and shook your head, and kept walking out of the airport. You had an appointment with the advisor from Pasadena College, and you wanted to get it over with so you could be a tourist after.
There was an urgency, as soon as Mark got into the airport. You were there. He could feel how close you were, and Mark practically ran through the airport. He got to the entrance with enough time to see you get into a cab, and see it drive away.
“Damn it!” Mark shouted, growing frustrated.
You had been right there! It was ok though, because you were in LA. It was ok, because you weren’t in (y/c), you were in California, and that meant that he could find you. He would find you. Mark turned around, and went back into the airport to get his luggage.
You walked out of the advisor’s office, and shook your hand. Your advisor had told you that you couldn’t wait for you to come to school here, and have a great time. You were just as excited. You smiled, and you started walking the campus.
In the back of your mind, you had that same urge to get into the closest cab, and drive through the city. It was faint, and not as urgent as when you’d been in the airport, but it was still there. Something was different, and you just wished you knew why.
Joey and Raymond had gone to pick Mark up from the airport for his unexpected visit. He was just telling them about the heart and how his soulmate was in LA, and how he had to find you. They were both very excited at the prospect of Mark having found his soulmate.
They got into Pasadena, and Mark turned to his father. “Go to the right.”
“What?”
“Dad, just go to the right, then down three blocks, and then to the right again.”
“Why are you going to the college?” Joey asked.
“Y/N’s there.”
The second the car came to a stop, Mark was out the door, and letting his feet take him where they wanted to take him. He ran down the paths, through buildings, pushing through people and apologizing for it later.
He ran around a building, into the circular center of the campus, where a statue and benches were arranged. You were standing there, looking up at the statue. your arms were bent at the elbows, and your head was tilting to the side.
Why was that feeling back? It was just as strong as it had been in the airport. You had the incredible, urgent, desperate need to turn around. You tilted your head to the side, looking at the statue, and trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
With a sigh, you turned to the left. Maybe it was just that you were so excited to be in the city where Mark’s family lived, and that you were going to go to this college. Yeah, maybe that was it. You walked out of the center of campus, and went back to your cab.
Mark couldn’t say a thing. He was frozen on the spot, staring at you. He’d found you. You were standing right in front of him, and Mark’s heart was going to burst.
“He…” He couldn’t find his voice.
You turned to the left, and started to walk away. Panic laced his mind, but he couldn’t make himself move. His mouth opened and closed comically as he tried in vain to formulate a single word to stop you from walking.
You disappeared from view, and that’s when Mark’s legs propelled him forward. He ran in the direction that you had gone in. You weren’t anywhere in sight, and Mark put his head down and ran, following the feeling of you. He broke through from in between the buildings, and saw you getting into a cab, again.
“STOP!” he yelled.
Everyone, including his brother and father, stopped what they were doing, and turned to look at Mark. You had turned to look at him too, and your eyes widened. The panic that had been clouding his judgement, and the shock that you were actually there, that had impeding his movement, all vanished.
“M…Mark?” you whispered, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
He couldn’t stop, not now that he had started walking to you. A few steps in your direction, and he was running up to you. His hands framed your face, and a look of confusion appeared in your eyes. Mark brought his lips down onto yours, feeling sated almost instantly. He sighed against your lips, tilting his head to the side, so that he could more firmly press his lips to yours.
When he moved back, his eyes opened, and he looked at you. Your eyes were wide with shock, and confusion too. He couldn’t help but smile, turning a bright shade of red as you blushed. His forehead pressed into yours, and his hands moved down to take yours.
“I have been wanting to do that for two weeks,” he whispered.
“What?”
Mark put his hand into his pocket, and pulled out the little conversation heart inside a little baggie. It read kiss me, and it was orangey pink. You looked up at him, your eyes wide, and your mouth a cute little “o” of surprise.
“No,” you whispered, a small smile on your face. “You’re…I’m…no.”
“Yes,” he answered, nodding, bringing your hands up around his neck. His hands moved around your back to rest at the small of your back. “Yes, you, Y/N, are my soulmate.” He brought you closer to his body, hugging you tight. “I am so goddamn glad to have you.”
Two week later, Mark was moving from one foot to the other, in the Incheon airport, waiting for his soulmate to come through the gate. Giggling next to him called his attention. Jackson and Yugyeom were looking at him and laughing.
“Are you worried Y/N’s mind changed?” Jackson asked. “Y/N’s not on the plane?”
“Shut up,” Mark said, turning back to the gate. What if you did change your mind?
“Y/N’s your soulmate,” JB said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Y/N is probably just as anxious to get back you as you are.”
“Right,” Mark nodded, knowing this was true.
“Mark!” your voice found him.
His head snapped over in the direction of your voice, and he scanned the people quickly. Then he found you, making your way through a crowd of people. Just like that he was walking to you. Then he was running to you. Your body crashed into his, your arms moving around his neck. Mark’s arms tightened around you, and he breathed a sigh in relief.
“I need you to move here,” he said, against your neck. “I can’t handle you being gone for so long.”
“It was two weeks,” you answered, giggling.
“Too long.”
Several someones cleared their throats, and Mark moved back away from you, reluctantly. He turned, seeing Got6 looking at them rather amused. Mark cleared his throat, and moved next to you, keeping his arm around your waist.
“This is Y/N,” he said, looking at you. He smiled at you, and turned back to the guys. “These idiots are my bandmates, but you know that.”
“Yes, I do,” you said, blushing as the guys all said hi to you. They smiled, and waved, and you smiled and waved back. “Hi, I’m so excited. I love you all.”
“We have a dinner planned for you to meet everyone, including JYP,” JB said, nodding at you. “For now, though, we are going to leave you two alone.”
The rest of the guys walked out of the airport, and Mark wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight. You rested your head on his shoulder, your arms around his waist. His eyes closed, and rested his cheek on your head and felt so content while holding you close.
“We should get home,” he said, letting you go. “We can’t stand in the middle of the airport all day.”
“Home,” you whispered, nodding your head. “We should go home.”
Mark opened the door to his apartment, before he looked down at you. You smiled, looking around the place. You walked into the apartment, as Mark pulled your suitcase into his room. He was so nervous about being alone with you, and what he was expecting and what you was expecting. He sure hoped that he wasn’t a disappointment.
“Hey, Y/N, I’m going to get something to eat,” Mark said, as he walked back into the living room. “I’ll be back in like five minutes, ok?”
“Ok,” you answered, nodding. “Is it ok if I unpack my clothes?”
“Nothing would make me happier than to know that you’re staying here long enough that you have to unpack your clothes.” He smiled, kissing your forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
When Mark came back, arms full of bags of food, he looked at the door, and smiled. He opened the door, walked in, and took in a breath to call out.
“Honey, I’m home,” he called.
You came out of the bedroom, and you smiled at him. Biting your lower lip, you ran up to him. Mark put the bags on the floor, and caught you as you jumped into his arms. He laughed into your hair, and held you tight.
“I love you,” he said, as he set you down. “Let’s eat.”
“I love you too,” you said, as you picked up one of the bags. “And I’m starving.”
Mark watched as you moved around his kitchen, getting plates and bowls and cutlery. You were so comfortable in his kitchen and in his house. He could see his life with you so perfectly, and he was so excited to live his life with you. This was going to be perfect.
#Mark Tuan#Im Jaebum#Jackson Wang#Park Jinyoung#Choi Youngjae#BamBam#Kim Yugyeom#Got7#Got7 sce#mark tuan scenario#valentine's day#Igot7
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So this is my @voltronsecretvalentine present for @sunprintedbedsheets !!! They love the Coffee Shop Au and Klance and well, I think I went a little overboard here. ^^; (its my first time doing one of these) I hope you love this hun!!
Summary: It was a case of falling for a grumpy customer who happened to be really cute, and his lack of self-control.
Word Count: 6970 (guys idk what happened)
On Ao3
Lance leaned against the counter and groaned. Boredom was his unwanted friend today. Mid-day shifts were always slow, and if Lance wanted anything out of the shift at this point, it was a rush. Even a 5-person rush would be better than standing here at a register staring at an empty café.
He let out another sigh, puffing out his cheeks in a pout. If he looked on the bright side of this, his paycheck was going to be bigger than his last one. This pay period he picked up three extra shifts. Plus, he was working a double today because his coworker, Brian, was sick. He could only hope Blue was alright by herself. His cat always got antsy when he didn't come home at the normal time. She was clingy like that.
The door chimed and Lance immediately stood up straight and flashed his best smile.
“Hi, welcome to Juniberry Café!” he greeted.
The customer was pulling down his scarf, freeing his mouth so he could speak. Lance kept his smile in place, but in the back of his head he was freaking out. Okay, so the guy was like really cute? Could you blame him? The customer came up to the counter and eyed the menu. He had dark gray eyes and a mop of hair that…was that a mullet? How was this guy pulling off a mullet? It’s the 21st century, dude, not the 80s. Yet that didn’t really detract from how attractive this guy was. How was this even fair?
“Could I get a double shot espresso?” he asked.
Lance keyed it into the register and grabbed a cup, slipping a sleeve on it. “Sure, what’s your name, pretty boy?”
Normally, Lance would be scolded for hitting on the customers. A lot of the time he couldn’t help it because there were just so many gorgeous people in the world, he had to let them know. But since his manager was in the back catching up on the dishes from the morning rush, he was going to get lucky this time around.
The customer blinked before a light blush spread across his nose. “Uh, it’s Keith.”
“Alright, Keith,” Lance practically purred (someone stop him please). “Anything else I can get for you today?”
Keith stepped back from the counter to look over at the cooler full of other products that Juniberry carried but stepped back up after a quick glance. “Just the espresso today.”
Lance hummed and penned Keith’s name on the side of the cup, dotting the ‘I’ with a heart. It wasn’t really that necessary but hey, it looked cute now that it was there.
“Okay, that’ll be $3.49.”
Keith fished out his credit card and swiped it before moving off to the seating area. Lance took a quick peek at the rest of him as he went about making Keith's espresso. He had on dark jeans (they really showed off his ass), boots, a leather jacket, and the dark red scarf. Overall a pretty dark ensemble if Lance had an opinion on it, but Keith pulled off the bad boy vibe really, really well. The only other person Lance knew who could do that was Shiro, and Shiro was such a dad-friend that if he did try, it might end miserably.
Keith’s drink was done and Lance slapped on a lid.
“Double shot espresso for Keith!”
Habit had Lance calling out the order, granted it was in a softer voice than he would use for a rush, but when Keith was one of the five people in the store right now, it was kind of pointless.
Keith came to grab his coffee after powering up his laptop.
“Enjoy,” Lance cooed, winking.
Keith blinked and blushed again, mumbled a quick thanks before retreating back to his seat. Well, chalk up another loss for Lance.
The rest of his shift went pretty much the same way. One or two customers at a time, some there just for a quick coffee to get them through the midday crash, others there to socialize. Lance struck up a small conversation with each of them, more to stave off his own boredom than to actually get to know them. They were all pretty good about making small talk with him. He was all smiles and full of charisma, all in order to make sure that his customers had something to make their coffee experience better.
Lance’s next shift was in the morning, the opening shift. He always preferred this time anyways, he was a morning person. Some people were always going to be grumpy in the morning, but he made it his mission to brighten a customer’s day just a little when they came in for the morning caffeine spike.
After the normal rush of people, the constant “hi” and “what can I get for you?”, the shift started to slow down. Lance busied himself with cleaning up the mess he and his coworker had created with the constant slew of orders. He hummed and danced along with the music as he cleaned up.
The door chimed. Another customer. Once again Lance found himself smiling brightly at the person standing at the counter.
It was Keith.
Without even trying, Lance smiled a touch brighter for him. Keith looked down right exhausted, the bags under his eyes were certainly noticeable, and he slouched into his jacket.
“Hi, double shot right?” Lance asked. Memorizing customer’s orders was sort of Lance’s thing.
The other boy looked up and squinted at Lance. “How do you know my order?”
Lance was already writing Keith’s name on the cop, dotting the ‘I’ with the heart again, when he looked up over the rim of the cup. “With someone as pretty as you coming in, it’s hard not to.”
Keith scowled and dug out his wallet. “I would use any word other than ‘pretty’ for myself.”
“Hot? Handsome? Beautiful? Any of those work?” Lance set the cup down and keyed in Keith’s order.
Lance watched and waited for Keith to answer as he swiped his card, a small smirk on his lips.
Dark gray eyes looked up at him, wide and a little shocked. “Do you hit on everyone like this?”
Lance winked. “Only on the pretty one’s, pretty boy.”
Keith lit up, his blush glowing. Lance graced him with one of his trademark smiles before whirling away to hum and dance to the music while making Keith’s drink. His phone was plugged into the speakers for the shop today, and he had his chill playlist on, but occasionally one of the more upbeat songs would come on and Lance just couldn’t help himself.
“Double shot espresso for Keith,” he purred.
Keith’s blush was amazing to watch. He looked like the guy to school his emotions, leaving a stoic mask in place. But once he was complimented, the flush he sported looked like it should be permanent. Keith snatched the drink from the counter and quickly retreated to the back of the shop where there were a few open seats. Lance planted his hands on his hips and smiled after the guy.
He could call today a win, he got more than three words out of the surly guy with a mullet (that he pulled off really well).
Another midday shift and another day full of boredom. Lance really hated midday shifts, but it was all he could get sometimes with classes and everything.
Everything behind the counter was spotless, Brian was down in the cooler organizing. The stock that they did have was already organized and had been reorganized again thanks to Lance. Even the dishes were done. The syrups and flavorings were arranged alphabetically; napkins, half and half, soy milk, straws, cup sleeves, and sugar packets were all full. Trash had been taken care of, same with recycling. Slowly but surely (it was within the first two hours of the shift), he and Brian ran out of things to do.
If Lance’s boss was here, he would be getting his ass reamed for doodling on the cups. He even pulled out his colored sharpies from his backpack. He was getting pretty creative. Some of the cups had forests, one had a sailboat and waves on it. Another had little cats drawn all over it. The one he was working on had hearts all over it. Valentine’s day was coming up soon and he was really feeling the holiday. Granted he didn’t have a date yet, but who know what could happen in the next few days-
“Dude, are you going to doodle all day or take my order?”
Lance jumped and looked up. Shit was Keith.
“Oh, I’m sorry, man. Double shot still?”
“Like always.” Keith looked exceptionally testy today, Lance couldn’t help but worry a little.
“Everything alright, dude? You seem extra grumpy today.” Lance keyed in the order and wrote Keith’s name on a cup, and dotted the ‘I’ like normal.
Keith ran a hand through his hair, messing it all up. "It's been a long day, and I gotta go take my cat to the vet. He's down with something."
Lance began to make his drink, like always. “You have a cat? Hope they’re okay. I would be a mess if Blue was sick.”
“You have a pet?” Keith sounded a little surprised at that.
Lance smiled over his shoulder. “Yup! A cat, too. She’s clingy and always demands attention.”
He slipped a lid on to Keith’s cup and turned back to the counter. “Seriously, hope your cat gets better.”
Keith took the cup, a blush starting to form. “Thanks,” he choked out before running out of the shop.
Lance watched him, puzzled. Did not a lot of people know that Keith had a cat? He shrugged it off and looked behind him where he left the cup he was doodling on. Right? He looked under the counter, just in case he dropped it, but no luck. He counted up the ones he had doodled on, and none of them had hearts.
Where did it-
Oh.
Oh no.
Oh god no.
He gave that cup to Keith.
He was so screwed. He really messed up this time. And just when he was getting beyond the casual conversation point. Lance yanked on his hair, freaking out, ready to go dig his own grave.
Okay, he needed to take a deep breath. It was just a cup, maybe Keith wouldn’t think anything of it and just drink it and toss it. No big deal. Wait, he dots the ‘I’ though. And that’s a freaking heart too. Oh god, he just ruined any chance he had with Keith. Shit.
Shit shit shit.
He paced back and forth, mentally berating himself for doing something so stupid.
Sooner or later, his shift came to an end. The whole time he was freaking out.
Lance walked into work, nervous and ready to flee at any sight of Keith. He never saw Keith in and around campus, but he knew that they went to the same college from a lucky glance at his ID when he pulled it out instead of his credit card.
But that didn’t help to calm Lance’s nerves. Not in the slightest.
He took to chewing on his nails, something that he would regret later that night, but the manager found the doodle cups from last time and he was lectured again. She was really starting to get exasperated with some of his antics, but for some reason, she kept him around. If he was like this at any other place, Lance was certain that he would've been fired by now.
Needless to say, he was going to be on his best behavior today. Nothing was going to go wrong.
If only he wasn’t suffering through another midday shift.
He let out a heavy breath and leaned on the back counter, watching the seating area. Everything that he could do was done, and it was just his luck that whoever he was supposed to work with this shift called off because they had a group project meeting. They didn’t really need anyone else on the midday shifts, the rushes were minimal, and this was basically the shift to clean up the messes that the morning team ended up making anyway. One person could easily do that all.
With that Lance grabbed a wet towel and headed out to the seating area and began to wipe down the tables and rearrange the chairs. He just needed to keep busy, keep his mind of-
The door chimed.
Lance looked up from the table and quickly looked back down, scrubbing at the table like there was no tomorrow.
Of course, he had to show up today too.
He heard the footsteps come up to him and dreaded the way Keith cleared his throat.
Freezing up, Lance glanced up and quickly back down. “H-Hey…”
“Hey.”
If Lance felt uncomfortable and anxious, Keith definitely looked it. His blush was light, and his gray eyes looked everywhere but Lance, despite standing right in front of him.
Lance just kept staring. He didn’t really expect Keith to come back and talk to him. And he didn’t really trust himself to say the right thing at the moment.
Keith took a deep breath and finally met his eyes. “Do you have a pen or something?”
“Uh, yeah?” He pulled the sharpie he had been using out of his apron and handed it to Keith.
Keith took the marker and grabbed onto Lance’s wrist before he could pull away.
“Hey, what are-”
Keith started to scrawl something on the inside of his wrist. “Just, I don’t know, call me when you’re off work today.”
“O-okay? What for?”
Keith capped the sharpie and handed it back to Lance. "It's fine if you don't want to, but after the cup thing, I just thought that…that you were – I don't know, interested?"
Lance gaped at him, his mouth even fell open. Was he being asked out?
“Look I totally get it if you don’t want to, but the hearts over the ‘I’s and stuff, plus all the hearts on the last cup…” Keith trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked…shy?
“…You noticed all that?”
Keith looked up at him, his hand dropping from his neck. “I mean, was I not supposed to?”
Lance shook his head and leaned on the table next to him. “So, lemme get this straight, which I’m not by the way, but I guess you picked up on that already, but you, Keith, are asking me out? As in, on an actual date?”
Keith shrugged and crossed his arms. “If that’s what you want to call it, then yeah, I am.”
Lance took a deep breath. And proceeded to laugh. The whole situation was just so… funny?
The guy standing in front of him, the one who just asked him out, the one who looked like he could care less about anything, was asking him out on a date. Him. Lance. Of all people, it was him. He couldn’t help it.
Keith rolled his eyes. “Okay, so obviously you thought this was a joke, sorry for bothering you.”
“Dude, Keith, no it’s – it’s not that, oh gosh, phew, sorry sorry.” Lance tried to gather his wits about him. He wiped a stray tear and took a couple steadying breaths. God, who thought he would be the one asked out. “I’ll call you when I get off in an hour. Sound cool?”
“Uh, sure.” Keith blinked, the light blush coming back again.
“Great, talk to you then, Keith!”
“Yeah, talk to you then-” he took a quick look at Lance’s nametag “-Lance.”
Lance beamed. “You still want that double shot?”
Keith smiled a little back. “You still gonna heart the ‘I’?”
“Of course! Who do you take me for, some backwater Romeo?” Lance scoffed, “Please, I’m not just gonna give up now that you’re taking me on a date, pretty boy.”
Keith smiled, like the real deal kind of thing.
Lance could feel himself melting on the inside – like good god that smile was something else, but on the outside, he rolled his eyes. "Okay, pretty boy, just because you have a great smile, it does not mean that flashing me those pearly whites is gonna get you everything.”
He saw Keith’s smile sharpen, taking on a more flirtatious edge. “Well… is it working?”
“I have to get back to work.” Lance was a goner, there was no way he was going to survive this.
Keith chuckled. “Yeah, you do, because I’d still like my double shot, with the ‘I’ hearted, please.” And he freaking winked.
Lance damn near died.
Lance decided to wait till he was back at his apartment to call Keith. He’d been neglecting poor little Blue that past few days since homework had taken over his life and work took everything else. Needless to say, his poor cat down right livid with him for ignoring her.
To show that she was, Blue simply mrrowed at him and stalked away into the kitchen, instead of leaping up onto his shoulder and rubbing her head against his cheek. Lance loved that she was so affectionate, but at the same time, whenever she was vexed about something, Blue was the world’s most antisocial cat ever.
“Aww, Blue, c’mon girl, you know I can’t help it sometimes!” Lance trailed after his cat, kicking off his shoes. “Lemme make it up to you, please.”
But Blue was having nothing to do with him. She sat near her water bowl and decided it was a good time to groom. What a nice way to show her disinterest in him. Lance sagged and left his cat alone.
He moped about the kitchen, prepping dinner when he decided that now was no better time than any to call Keith.
He tapped in the numbers on his phone and hit call before tucking it into the crook of his neck. He wasn’t quite done using both of his hands for dinner.
Keith picked up on the fourth ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Lance, the cute barista you asked out earlier.”
“Oh, hey.” Keith sounded surprised that he actually called. This should be fun.
“Hey.”
“So…what’s up?”
Lance cast a quick glance at Blue, who was still ignoring him. "Oh, you know, trying to figure a way to make my cat forgive me for ignoring her the past few days. Nothing new."
Keith chuckled a little, and Lance felt his knees go weak. “Why is she ignoring you?”
“Well, pretty boy, if you paid attention you would notice that I’ve been working the past three days. And homework is the other thing that has eaten up my time.”
“Sounds like you owe your cat an apology.”
Lance made an indignant noise and turned the stove down as his vegetables simmered in the pan. “It’s not like I can help it!”
“Uh huh, this is coming from the person who doodled on cups and got distracted,” Keith said lightly.
Oh, so sass was going to be the way this was going to go? Lance could deal with that. "Doodling is my major, pretty boy, can't help it."
“Mhm. Just give your cat some fish or something. It works for me.”
“And I bet your cat just loves to pretend to be angry at you.”
“…you know that actually makes a lot more sense now.”
Lance smiled smugly and stirred his veggies and peaked in the oven at the chicken that was baking. “Either way, I’m fresh out of fish, maybe Blue would be okay with a tidbit of chicken.”
And it was like Lance spoke the magic words. Blue was suddenly rubbing herself against his ankles, purring her little heart out.
He heard Keith hum thoughtfully on the other end. “Should work, mine just prefers fish.”
“Sounds like a typical cat – Blue, hun, yes, you can have some but you gotta be patient.”
Blue looked up at him with wide blue eyes, blinking at him. She gave a short mrrt and jumped up onto his shoulder.
“Blue-!”
“You okay over there?”
“Just fi-fine, Blue seriously, I love you too, but really. Hold on, Keith.” Lance grabbed the phone from his shoulder before Blue knocked it off and into the pan on the stove.
Once it was safe, he reached up and brought his cat down to cuddle, murmuring, “Blue, you gotta behave. I have a cute boy on the phone, and you’re being a distraction, baby.”
Blue reached up and batted his nose with a paw. Lance smiled down at her. She really was a great cat.
“Can you be quiet for me, Blue? Just for a little bit?” He scratched her chest and her eyes fell shut as she started to purr again. “That’s a good kitty, such a good girl. I’m gonna put you down now, okay? I promised you some chicken, but you gotta behave, ya hear?”
She thwapped her tail on his side, content with what she was hearing and her way of saying ‘yeah, yeah, okay’. Lance set her down on her feet and peeked on the chicken once more before picking his phone up again.
“Okay, I’m back, sorry about that.”
He could practically hear Keith’s smile in his response, “No big deal, Red gets the same way.”
Lance laughed back. “Cats are strange, but I don’t how I would survive without mine.”
“Haha, same.”
They lapsed into a slightly awkward silence, but Lance didn’t really notice because he had to pay attention to his food again. The stir fried vegetables were almost done, and the chicken was almost to temp.
It stretched so long that Lance was almost afraid that Keith had hung up on him.
“You still there, pretty boy?”
He listened as Keith cursed and clunks sounded through the call.
“Sorry, what was that?”
Lance rolled his eyes and pulled off his vegetables. “You dropped your phone, didn’t you?”
“Did not-”
“And you fell asleep.”
“How the hell-”
“And you’re blushing right now, aren’t you pretty boy?”
“I- how…what?”
Laughter bubbled in Lance’s chest. He couldn’t help it, Keith sounded so freaking cute when he was embarrassed. “You fell asleep, yes or no?”
“…maybe.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. What has you so tired anyways? You practically subsist on double shots every day.”
Keith groaned. There was rustling on his head, and if Lance was sure he was rolling over. “Engineering homework takes a long time to get done.”
“What kind of engineering? I have a friend who’s in mechanical.”
“Astro. It’s that and physics that are keeping me up all night.”
“Dude, that can’t be healthy. No wonder you’re falling asleep on the phone.”
"Couldn't help it when you were talking to your cat like that," Keith's voice was muffled and it sounded like he was face first on his pillow. "Was cute."
“Duuuudee, why do you notice everything?!” Lance hid his face in his hands, covering the blush that Keith couldn’t even see.
“S’my thing.”
“Ughhh, okay. Fine. That’s cool, pretty boy. I gotta eat dinner soon, so why did you want me to call you after work today?” The chicken was close to being done, a few more minutes.
“Mmm, wanna go on a date?”
Lance ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Well, I don't see why not, I've been dropping hints since you walked in the first time, pretty boy."
“And that’s why I’m asking. So… is that a yes or a no?”
Lance thought it was really cute that Keith seemed really unsure about whether he would say yes or not. “You bet, when and where?”
He heard Keith sit up. “When are you done tomorrow?”
“Four-ish. Have a couple later classes.”
“Cool, I get done at three. I can pick you up by the student union?”
“Sure, I’ll see you then, pretty boy.”
“You’re never going to stop calling me that are you?”
“Not if I can keep getting away with it,” Lance laughed.
Keith joined in a little, before groaning. “Dammit, Red, what?”
“Haha, did your cat get you?”
“Yeah, it’s time to feed him and give him his meds. So I better go.”
Lance leaned against the counter and hugged himself. “Yeah, go take care your cat, Keith. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you later, Lance.” And with that, the line went dead.
Lance took the phone away from his face and stared down at it. He really couldn’t get his mind wrapped around the fact that Keith was talking to him outside of the coffee shop. Lance really thought that he would be out of his league, or just think he was annoying with all the flirting he was doing. But Keith didn’t seem to mind, and if he went out on a limb here, Lance was pretty sure that Keith actually liked it.
He smiled at his phone as he saved Keith’s number, entering his name in as “Pretty Boy <3”.
Blue yowled, and Lance suddenly remembered that the chicken was still in the oven.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered as he pulled it out.
The bottom was a little charred, but the rest would be alright if he used some of the juices from the stir fry to rehydrate it.
“Sorry, Blue it might be a little dry. You still want some?” He looked down at his cat, watching as she licked her lips. “I’ll take that as a yes then. Remind me to get you some fish for Valentine’s day to make up for this and tomorrow, okay?”
Blue mewed and rubbed his ankles.
“Love you too, pretty kitty.”
He stood outside the student union, hands shoved in his pockets, waiting for Keith to show up. The day was surprisingly warm, Lance only felt the need to wear a light jacket over his long sleeve tee. It was one of his nicer ones. Blue had looked at him in the morning with a serious 'you are really wearing that on your date' look when he pulled on one of his painting shirts. Being an art student never really let him keep his clothes clean, especially when he had the luck to knock around and fumble with his paint at least once every time he was in the studio to work. Paint ended up on his clothes one way or another. It was partly his fault for not wearing a smock, but those really cramped his style and Lance refused to wear one, even if it was the last thing he had to do.
Though, today was an exception.
He had a date with Keith, and he couldn't just show up covered in paint. It wouldn't really make a great first impression – okay, so he's already made the first impression and that was him being a flirt. This was different. He wanted Keith to see that he wanted to give this a shot. Even if they've only known each other for a few days at the most. That didn't make a difference, right? If they clicked, they clicked and they kept going on dates. If not, at least Lance could say they gave it an honest effort before settling to be just friends.
Lance was startled out of his thoughts when a motorcycle roared up, pulling him to a stop in front of him. The rider flipped the kickstand down and tore off their helmet.
It was Keith.
Lance felt his jaw drop. Holy shit, Keith rode a bike everywhere? How in the hell did he not freeze to death?
Keith shook his hair out, running a hand through it to pull it out of his face a bit. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright. If it was even possible for him to get any prettier, he just proved Lance wrong.
“You ready?” he asked, smiling at Lance’s dumbstruck expression.
Lance had to shake himself, looking up to the sky for guidance before leveling his gaze on Keith. God, he was beautiful. He belonged on that bike.
"Yeah." He sounded so far away, breathless even. Who could blame him, though, Keith just stole what ability of breathing he had by showing up on that thing.
“Then get over here, it’s going to take a while to get where we got to be.” Keith tossed him a helmet that he pulled out of one of the side bags.
Lance fumbled to catch it but kept a hold of it. Keith laughed and pulled his own back on. Lance did the same as he walked up to the bike. It was still rumbling, the frame vibrating. It was a wonder that it hadn't fallen apart yet.
“It’s like riding a horse, Lance. Just swing a leg over,” Keith coached.
He pulled himself forward, giving Lance more room to get on. The taller boy was a little clumsy but as soon as he had his hand planted on Keith’s hips, the kickstand disappeared and they were off.
Lance yelped and leaned forward to wrap his arms around Keith's waist, not expecting the sudden takeoff. He heard and felt Keith chuckle as they gained more speed. They merged with traffic, weaving in and out between cars with ease. Lance could tell that Keith had been riding motorcycles for quite a while. He changed gears so smoothly, Lance barely noticed. Turns happened so naturally that Lance couldn’t believe that they had been turning in the first place.
Ten minutes later, they were outside the college city and heading towards the mountains. Lance hugged Keith closer as the other opened up the throttle as soon as they hit the open road. They were flying. The rumble of the machine beneath spoke of strength and freedom, and Lance enjoyed every second of it.
The mountains loomed closer, and soon enough they started to climb. Lance still had no idea where they were going, but the longer they were on the road and the higher they climbed, the more excited Lance got. He honestly thought that it was going to be a simple dinner date, hell even a dinner at the dining courts would have been an experience in his book.
The road switched back and forth, cut into the mountain's face. Keith took the turns expertly, some of them so low that Lance squeezed his eyes tight and prayed that they didn't tip over. It took them awhile, but eventually, they reached the summit.
The air was thin, and both of them were breathing a little hard than they normally would.
Keith slowed and turned off the trail, and parking his bike on a small plateau. A campfire ring sat close to the edge, and the sight…
“Woah…” Lance swore he could almost see the next town over from here.
Keith flipped the kickstand out and turned off the bike. Lance let go of his waist, but let his hands rest gently on his hips. He was staring in awe at the sight that Keith just brought him too. If he knew about this place before, he would have been up here every weekend sketching.
“Sorry for the drive, but this was the best I could do on short notice. Nearly every restaurant in town was booked,” Keith explained.
Lance took off his helmet, barely taking his eyes away from the view. “Dude, this is way better than going to some fancy restaurant in town. Like, holy…I can see for days.”
Keith followed him in taking off his helmet and looked at him out of the side of his eyes. "You really don't mind?"
“Why would I be complaining about this?” Lance gestured at the city below them and looked at Keith. “I never knew a view like this existed!”
Keith’s eyes softened and he turned to look out over the cliff. “I come out here a lot. Sometimes the pace of the city just gets to be too much, you know? This reminds me of home a little bit.” He sounded far away.
“Still, I’ve been here nearly all my life, and I never thought the mountains had pull-offs like this.” Lance waved a hand at the campfire ring and lack of guard rail.
“They don’t. I made the campfire, and no one takes this road to go through the mountains. There’s a tunnel down at the bottom that’s a lot faster than going up and over.”
Lance hummed and slid off the bike, resting the helmet on the seat. He was a little unsteady at first, but he quickly found his legs again. Making his way over to the edge, he shoved his hands in his pockets and just took in the sight. He felt so removed from life moving about thousands of feet below.
“It’s really peaceful up here…”
Keith came up and set something on the ground. “Part of the reason why I come out here. I like the peace and quiet.”
Lance looked over and audibly sucked in a breath. The sun was starting to set, bathing the mountain side in an orange glow. Keith was looking out over the city, serene. His hair was drifting gently in the breeze, and his eyes looked almost purple in the light. The sun highlighted everything with a warm glow, and Lance could feel him falling farther and farther. At this point, he didn't really see himself climbing back up. Let him hit the bottom, he didn't care.
Keith glanced over at him. "You hungry?"
Lance blinked and looked down where Keith had set a basket on the ground. They were having a sunset picnic.
He looked back up and smiled. “A little bit, yeah. What’d bring, chef?”
Keith looked away and mumbled, “Just some PB&J because that’s all I had, sorry.”
“Sounds great to me.” Lance took a seat and started to root through the basket.
He pulled out the sandwiches and two thermoses. He set them aside in favor of one of the sandwiches. Keith sat down next to him and took the other sandwich. They ate in a comfortable silence, not that Lance felt like talking much. He was too enraptured by the sights, or the way the sun played off of Keith’s hair. It really wasn’t fair that he could pull off a mullet in this decade, but he really couldn’t bring himself to make fun of it. He didn’t know if it was the way things were so quiet up here beside the breezes making the leaves rustle, or that he really didn’t want to ruin any future chance he had with Keith, but whatever it was it kept him quiet.
Time passed and soon enough the sun had set and the stars had begun to appear in the sky. They were far enough away from the city that the light pollution did little to hide the stars. Lance leaned back on his hands, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles as he looked up at the sky. He really needed to come back up here with one of his sketch books, this place was too beautiful to not want to sketch it all down.
He glanced over at Keith and saw that he had his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around them. He looked like a little kid like that.
Lance turned back to the sky and laid back on the ground. “So why did we come all the way out here, pretty boy?”
“Y’ain’t going to stop with that ever, are you?”
Lance snorted. “Did-did you just say y’ain’t?”
Keith scowled and didn’t answer, looking away.
At the same time, Lance was dissolving into a fit of giggles. “I can’t, oh my god, I can’t believe you just said y’ain’t. Are you kidding me? Where are you from, Texas?”
“Actually…”
“Oh my god…”
Lance was a goner now. He was nearly rolling on the ground, laughing to the point that he had tears in his eyes. Keith watched him with a raised eyebrow, clearly not seeing the humor in the situation.
It took a good five minutes before Lance finally calmed down enough to talk again.
“Oh, dear god, I’m sorry, but – ooh boy, that was a good one, Keith. I didn’t know you had it in you. Wow, that was a good laugh. I haven’t laughed like that since Hunk accidentally superglued himself to his engineering project.” He wiped his eyes and took a steadying breath.
“I remember that! He was freaking out and nearly broke it trying to get himself unstuck,” Keith mused, smiling to himself. “Even the professor cracked up when he asked for help.”
Lance giggled, holding his sides. “Holy shit, stop.”
Keith graced him with a grin before turning back to the sky. The sun’s light was nearly gone now and the sky was a rich blanket full of stars. Lance looked up and let himself get lost in the endless night above him.
The temperature dropped. Shivers forced Lance to sit up and wrap his arms around himself. Keith scooted closer and handed him one of the thermoses.
“Here, it’s hot cocoa.”
Lance took it, smiling in thanks. He took a sip and let the warm drink make its way through him. There was nothing better than hot chocolate on a cold night. Keith took a sip from his own. Lance leaned on his shoulder, seeking whatever warmth he could. He really should have worn a heavier jacket. Keith glanced over at him. He had a brow raised, but when Lance didn’t move away, he leaned back. His own shiver shook them both. Lance wrapped one arm around Keith’s waist and pulled him closer.
“So… lemme guess. You have espresso in your thermos.”
Keith choked on his tongue. “Dude, how the hell do you keep guessing all these things?”
Lance shrugged. “I have a pretty good intuition. And if you know Hunk, then you should know that he rubs off on everyone, and I’ve known him for years.”
“That would definitely explain it.” Keith took another sip and relaxed more into Lance.
They were both content to enjoy each other’s warmth and to just watch the stars. Lance could see more stars than he ever had before. He was entranced, everywhere he looked there were more stars, something new to see.
Keith pointed out a few of his favorite constellations. Lance could only really point out Orion and the Big Dipper. He got Keith to laugh out loud when he made a big show of connecting all the stars together. Keith’s smile did something to Lance, he had no idea what, but it made him want to see Keith smile all the time. Extra points if he were the one to make him smile.
Like all dates, sooner or later they had to head back to town. They packed up and were back on the bike, speeding down the mountain. Lance hugged Keith close, enjoying the rush of wind around them, the way the motorcycled growled beneath them. He was happy, he was content. This had been one of the best dates ever, if not the best. Keith hadn't made him feel stupid, hadn't asked anything of him. It was so different than trying to take someone where they had to put on a show about how cool they were, how in love they were with each other. Keith had simply enjoyed his company like they had been friends for years. Sure, they were still kind of awkward around the edges, but Lance didn't care. He enjoyed the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, he enjoyed the thermos of hot cocoa, he enjoyed the sights (the city, the sky, and Keith). He never thought that simply looking at the sky, or seeing the boy he pined after when he walked into Juniberry Café for three days straight lit up by the sunset to make him feel so light, so happy.
He really didn’t want this to end.
They rode into the city, and Lance shouted directions to his apartment over the wind. He led Keith through each turn, each street name. It was a slow journey back to reality. The date let Lance have a glimpse at the haven he sought, the way everything finally felt right.
Soon enough they pulled up in front of Lance’s apartment. He could see Blue watching and waiting for him in the window. Lance saw her tail thrash, but her ears were perked and she looked curious as he and Keith walked up to his door.
Lance turned and faced Keith.
“I had a great time, Keith,” he said. He meant it. He really did.
Keith smiled up at him, his expression soft. “I’m glad you did, I did too.”
Lance leaned back against his door, procrastinating on unlocking it and ending the night. They stood there staring at each other, a mutual fondness pouring between them through just their eyes. He watching the change in Keith’s eyes, the soft look transforming to determination.
Keith stepped forward and gently pulled Lance down to meet him by the collar of his jacket.
His lips were soft and warm against Lance’s. His eyes slipped shut as he placed a hand on the small of Keith’s back and the other on the corner of his jaw. Keith pressed him back against the door, the hand on his jacket crept up to his neck. They held each other with a tenderness that neither of them expected from the other.
Keith pulled away and Lane leaned down to press their foreheads together.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at the café?” Keith sounded out of breath.
Lance laughed and hugged him close, enjoying the way Keith’s voice did unimaginable things to him.
“With your double shot ready, pretty boy.”
#klance#voltron#vld secret valentine 2017#vld sv#keith#lance#voltron legendary defender#vld#vld lance#vld keith#lance mcclain#keith kogane#klance fic#voltron fic#vld fic#coffee shop au#stargazing#fluff#this is so fluffy#idk what to do with it#hoenstly this was supposed to be 2k#and its almost 7k#wtf mogi#mogis messes
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Wildflowers.
To my OQ Valentine @illseeyouthrough (x)
I Hope you enjoy this OS I made for you!
@oqcelebration
#LoveFromOQ
“I can tell you that the end of a life is the sum of the love that was lived in it, that whatever you think you have sworn, being here at the end of Jem’s life is not what is important. It was being here for every other moment.”
—Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess
Regina had always dreamed with having a family. A husband whose strong morals only fail in comparison with his love and a kid or two who were excited to live even though this world is corrupted to the very skeletal structure of society. Yes, a family to always look forward to arriving after a very long day of work. A family which they could spend their weekends cuddled up or helping the kids with their homework, or simply going to the park to enjoy of a sunny day and some exercise. She almost had that dream in her grasps. Regina had married Daniel, a man whose heart was pure. A man whose love didn't have beginning or ending. With him Regina felt infinite and when she got pregnant with Henry things had been perfect.
At least for a while.
After. Year of Henry's birth, Daniel contracted a strange illness that eventually took him away from her. For a really long time, Regina was devastate, her will to live wavering for a fracture of a moment until she was reminded that Daniel will keep living through their son, Henry. She eventually moved on but love? That four letter word was out of the question.
Loving again would only mean opening scars that were barely healed. Loving meant opening her heart to someone who will eventually leave. There was no way she'd take such a risk, the prospect alone filling her with chills that tampered with her dreams.
So years passed by, and Regina began working with her father on his floral shop. It was a breath of fresh air to work around beautiful flowers, she only hated her job whenever Valentine's day rolled around. All the gooey couples that went in and out made her stomach churn, long for the man whose eyes meant the world to him. Luckily, Henry had the same eyes full of love and devotion. If there was one thing she is grateful for in her relationship with Daniel (other than all the good memories and love they shared) it was Henry. Because God knows where she would be at this very moment if she didn't have him.
Ever since she started working on the flower shop, after renouncing to her job on a firm that only sucked the life out of her, Regina had been in peace. The many antics she sees around the shop great for building up a funny day or two during the week. But what she enjoyed the most was the morning where one of the patrons would always come in, buy a flower and give it to her. The gesture always did warm her heart, and it was a sentiment that would always get her through the day, amongst other things. For some strange reason she always waited for him to ask her out, not that she would accept dating is something she doesn't indulge in, but he never did. Maybe he read her well and thought it was best to not do so (oddly enough she felt rather bad about that). But it was best that he didn't, otherwise she will have to say no and Regina is pretty sure she'd feel extremely bad about it.
That didn't mean her friends were in agreement to her non-dating life. Actually, they moved heaven and hell trying to set her up. For example, Mal has told her that her friend Jefferson would be perfect for her; and oh Rosalie? Also known as Tink, well she said that maybe her reluctance to date was because she wanted to branch out, that maybe her friend Emma was the best fit. Or Cru-Cru when she suggested Regina just needed sex and she had the perfect person for that, Graham. Something told Regina that she was talking by experience and she really, really declined Cruella outright without a second thought. After all she dates a lot of crazy people, male and female. Ever since then they have stopped trying to set her up and she was glad.
All she needed and was her son, her job and a tube of rocky road ice cream that was calling her name all the way from her apartment on top of the flower shop, a sort of gift from Henry sir who owns the building. But for now, she'll enjoy another day of work and then homework with her son while she cooks them dinner, also while deciding what story are they going to be reading before bedtime.
Like any other day, Regina tends to the flowers, making sure they are watered, that the temperature of the room is in the most optimize condition, treating the stems, making sure to take care of the excessive leaves and on and on until her head space is only on the treatment of the flowers. When that happened, Regina's surrounding (sounds more specifically) seem to disappeared leaving her in a zen environment. Which is why doesn't hear the bell ringing, announcing a new, maybe old, customer. For a long while nothing happens, no words, no sounds from the person who entered the shop. But Regina feels a presence, though she thinks for a moment she is imagining things so she continues doing her job, singing a soothing song for the plants. A full minute passed by as she sang, when someone began to speak.
"Have anyone ever told you you have a lovely voice." Right on cue, Regina jumps, dropping the cutting tools to the ground. Hands flew up her chest, trying to catch her heart that was beating frantically. The brunette turned to the owner of the voice and breathed out a sigh. "My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you." Regina shook her head, finally catching her breath.
"It is quite alright." She crouched to reach for the cutting tool, action that was mirrored by her company who is faster than her to grab it. Regina stands up again, taking the cutting tools offered by the client. "But you really shouldn't be sneaking behind someone with scissors in their hands." The person across her chuckles.
"Noted." And oh that deep accent is beautiful. The blue eyes man looking around, quietly examining the room. "There are a lot of new flowers." He points out because yes, he spends a lot of time in the store to noticed the difference. Which makes Regina grin.
"You know, seasons change and Valentine's day is coming." Putting her gardening tool in the front pocket of her apron, Regina tilts her head.
"Oh yes, Valentine's day. A commercial holiday to exploit the pockets of the fools in love." His hands reached into his pockets, a sheepish grin covering his countenance. He always was full of quirky and witty words like that, and usually they made Regina laugh but this time she opted for another action, which was raising her brow.
"Is that so?" But really, she agrees with him. Still Valentine's day was on of the most lucrative days of the year, right along graduation season and mother's day. Even though she really hates the fourteen, she cannot deny how much it helps the shop to thrive. "I'm guessing you are single this time around." Regina finds it hard to believe though, with those brilliant cyanic eyes, that scruff, those dimples that deepened whenever he smile, or the way words float around his accent made him appealing to anyone. Sure, yes, she sees the appeal but isn't interested in engaging in anything with him, and he seems to feel the same way about her. The man shakes his head, taking out his hands from his pocket to shrug.
"Haven't had luck on the dating department, for a really long time now." He confesses with a slight pout but quickly recovers, "But I suppose it is better that way. Not enough free time to go out and have fun..." On cue, his eyes drift to the clock overhead the counter, Regina following his gaze. The clock read 9:15 am. "Which made him sigh softly, "I'm late again." Robin's gaze (yes his name is Robin, Regina had learned it one day he was speaking to her father) went back to Regina, more specifically over her shoulder. Her company walked closer to her, faces coming close to one another. Her heart skipped a beat, treacherous heart. But when he moved to the side to reach for something behind her, most likely a flower, a sense of disappointment washed over her but Regina didn't allow it to show. After all, it isn't like she is interested in him or anything (what a big fat liar she is.) "Sunflowers." He muttered, offering the bright as the sun piece. Regina always had a love for sunflowers, it was something she cannot explain. "You know what they mean, right?" And Regina shakes her head, but yes she knows. Not in vain is her favorite flower and it is the very first time someone actually gift it to her, because that is what it is. Robin is going to buy it but give it to her like he always does whenever he has a chance on coming into the shop. "Warmth, happiness, loyalty..." He muttered softly. "I think this flower represents you perfectly." Regina grinned at that, lifting the bloom to her nose to smell the scent of the sun. Warmth, because this shops is that, a warm blanket that saved her from the coldness of the life she led a year ago. Happiness, that can only be sum up in one word, Henry. And loyalty because her heart still belongs to Daniel, that still hasn't changed.
"Oddly enough, it is my favorite flower." Those words made the man smile. "Thanks."
"You are most welcome." Robin looked over at the price, and took the money out of his pocket and passed it to Regina. "I'll see you soon." With nothing more to say, Robin bid his goodbyes and left the store.
When Robin left, Regina walked to the back of the counter and placed the sunflower on the base she kept there with all the flowers Robin had given her that week. By the end of it, she had a beautiful bouquet with an assortment of flowers different shapes and colors. They mismatch but at the same time held a certain, unique, kind of beauty that wasn't matched by anything. Only Regina could understand the beauty behind it, almost like a lost poem. Taking one last sniff of the many flowers, Regina then returned back to her work, zero interruptions the rest of the morning.
|xXx|
Valentine's day rolled in quicker than she had anticipated. The store was full to maximum capacity. Many, many indecisive people walked around the small shop, trying to figure out what kind of flowers their partners would like. At the end of their dilemma they always chose roses. Red, white there even been request for black ones. But who is she to judge? Her job is to facilitate the flowers so they can reach their happy, happy ending. All she truly wanted was for this day to be over so she could go back home, sit down with Henry to watch a movie while, only for tonight, they stuffed themselves with chocolates. For some reason her son always came back home with tons of chocolate. Her ten years seems to have admirers everywhere. But she can't blame him, he definitely got his good looks from Daniel. Oh how she is reminded about years back when he Henry had such a chubby face that she kissed and kissed. Regina always said that as a tiny baby, her son resemble her but in reality, he had always had an uncanny resemblance to Daniel. The sole thought makes her heart ache with a certain sweet and sour feeling. How much she misses him, how much she misses that first year of Henry's life where he was in it. How much she misses his unorthodox Valentine's day plans. Nevertheless, life goes on and she has to do her very best for her son's sake.
Noon came in and with it brought, Tink, Mal and Cru. Regina's brow furrow when the trio entered the flower shop. "Don't you guys have jobs?" She asks as a matter of a hello. Regina moved the base with Robin's flowers to the back, right beside her purse to be reminded to take them upstairs to the apartment. When she returned to where she was previously standing, the store was finally empty, except for the trio. Looks like the guy with the weird hairdo (she is pretty sure it was a toupee) didn't find something suitable after all. "Great you are alone." Tink said, moving to the entrance where she put the close sign on and locked the door. If she knew them well, and she did, these three were up to no good. "Why are you three here?" Regina asked, leaning over the counter. The trinity of blondes, because that's the name she had given to her insane assortment of friends. How they all get alone with the all so different personalities? That is still a mystery even to Regina, but it is a refreshing group of friends. Never a dull moment with them. Separate they were too much but band together? They were a force to be wreck with and Regina has the slight feeling they had band against a common enemy, her.
"Well, darling..." Cruella began, moving around the counter to stand side by side to the brunette, now looking over at the other two. "We decided to ditch our dates for tonight and go out as a group thing." But the platinum blonde voice sounded annoyed. She wasn't in agreement with that, it was most likely a case of being out voted by the other two. Even so, Regina had a hard time believing that. She'd been at the end of their plots too many times before to not see the obvious glow of a trap.
"Are you serious?" Regina questioned, crossing her arms together. "Because this feels like an over elaborated scheme. For what exactly? I still don't know but it feels that way." The three other women shared a look, and Regina smiled almost sheepishly, it seems like she was right.
"You always have to see the worse in us?" Questioned Mal, but she did not give a chance to Regina to answer to it. "We've tried to set you up in dates, all of us, but you'd denied it thus far. So we wanted you to have company for tonight."
"I have company, he's name is Henry and I am content with that." Regina shot back, a tad defensively. "Besides, you, more than these two..." The brunette points to Cru and Tink, "Had been looking forward to tonight. This is the only time you will have with your daughter."
"Which is why she is coming with us..." Mal said with a grin. Ever since Lily started university, Mal hadn't really seen her daughter. A few days back, while the brunette and her were having lunch, Lily called to say she'd be home for Valentine's day because she had the slight feeling her roommate was going to use their dorm for her dinner. Mal had been more than happy to oblige, and Regina knows this well, the smile that bloomed on the blonde's face reminded Regina of a bouquet of Daisies, all bright and happy. Still, the brunette smelled something rotten in all of this. She quite couldn't pinpoint what exactly. But the best course of action was to agree, they'll just keep bothering her until she says yes and Regina doesn't have much of a break time. Henry had prepared her lunch for the day as a Valentine present and she'd be damn if she spoils it.
"Fine." She muttered sulkily. "But I need to find someone to take care of Henry tonight since his usual babysitter has a date." Standing up straight, she then pushed Cruella, who was at her side, to where Mal and Tink were standing. "No leave. I have a lunch to eat and not enough time." When the three blonde's smiled, Regina simply rolled her eyes. What did she get herself into? Mills has no clue, but whatever it was, it won't end well.
"I'll pick you up tonight." Said Tink before being ushered out the door. "You'll we will have so much fun." But Regina didn't simply scoffed, opening the door so the three of them would get out, and before they could say something else, Regina closed the door and locked it. A soft sigh left her lips, digits pinching the bridge of her nose.
"This is not going to end well." She muttered before making her way to the back to eat that lunch she had been dreaming about.
|xXx|
"I don't see why you have to get all dressed up if you are going out with Mal, Cruella and Tink..." An annoyed, pre-teen said, sulking on the bed as Regina finishes her hair. When she told Henry that their night would be cut short because she was going out with her friends, he wasn't all to happy but he didn't say anything that would make her angry. For as long as he can remember, Regina and him had spent Valentine's day, or more precisely night, together.
"Because I like to look good for myself." She stressed the last word. Regina turned where she was sitting. Her eyes went to Henry who was sitting at the edge of the bed, popping a piece of chocolate. "Besides it is only one night. Maybe ill get the girls off my case for a while." She stood up, walking towards her little boy, who was not that little anymore, and kissed his forehead. "Also, It is a school night and you need to uphold your bedtime." The boy rolled his eyes, a trait that he got from her. Sassy to the very bone but she sent him the 'I'm not amused' look and he deflated. "Now, you have at least an hour before bed, spend it wisely and no more chocolates. Your new babysitter should be on her way. Why don't you go to the living room to watch tv and wait for her arrival."
With a defeated sigh, Henry did as he was told and headed to the living room while Regina put on the finishing touches. Lipstick, heels and earning were on just in time to hear the door bell. The brunette moved out of the room, and followed the path that lead to the door. When she opened the door, her eyes widen.
"Robin.."
Oh!
"Hello Regina." The man smiled.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, rather confused. For a moment she thought that her suspicions about her friend's setting her up were right. But Regina, not once, said anything about him and the flowers that he gave her. So it wouldn't make sense, at all. Regardless of that, it is too suspicious.
"I'm the babysitter..." He said with a sheepish smile and oh, she wasn't expecting that.
Regina's eyes widen, again, but they soften up rather quickly. She isn't against it, actually it just proves that men and women can have the exact job, no matter what it is. The brunette manages a smile, "I have to be honest, I wasn't expecting this." Regina confessed, moving out-of-the-way so Robin could go in. Robin shook his head, a soft chuckle leaving his lips, the sound quite alluring to Regina. "I get that reaction every time, don't worry." He turned, grinning at her. Finally, he seemed to noticed how she is dressed. A strapless blue dress that hugged her body perfectly, black pumps, blood-red lips and a half up do to tight the look around. His eyes wandered a bit much, making Regina blush because the way he was looking at her wasn't the usual lustful stare she got whenever she walk down the street, no. It was appreciative, it was almost like he was cherishing the view, committing it to memory. "You look absolutely stunning in every way."
Well then, now she feels like her face is a bright red tomato.
"Thank you." The heat from the blushing moved to the back of her neck. It was a strange feeling, but oddly enough, she likes it. For a long moment, they simply stared at one another. It was a spell being casted over them, magic seem to bleed from their bodies and Regina had the slight realization that she might actually feel attracted to Robin, more than she let herself to believe and for the first time since they'd known each other, the brunette can see the same in Robin's brilliant blue eyes. Nevertheless, like all spells, it was broken when her phone went off in the distance and Henry came padding into the small hallway that lead to the front door.
"Tink texted." He said, Henry's eyes falling on Robin. "Who's this?" His brow rose, lips pulling into thin line. Regina's reaction time delayed for a moment but after catching up to the boy's question, she shook her head and walked to him, taking the phone from his hand. "This is Robin. You met him before in the flower shop." Henry 'ohh' softly, nodding. "Yeah I remember. He was the guy that gave me a list of books to read." The boy's demeanor morphed into something Regina had seen many times before, pride. Pride because he managed to read at least three books in the list and he had been asking her to get him a few more.
"How did you like the books I suggested?" Robin spoke and her eyes immediately to him, "Because I brought a few with me and I was thinking you and I could discuss them." And just like that, Robin had won Henry over. Her son's smile brighten his face, and Regina was glad that at least someone who understands Henry was taking care of him for the night. Suddenly she doesn't feel so bad about interrupting their traditions, but they can always reclaim it tomorrow night.
"Mom?" Henry's voice broke through her line of thought, and she shook her head. "Tink's waiting for you downstairs." Her brow furrowed. "Are you kicking me out?" She asked and he smiled sheepishly, a 'Yes' falling from his lips. She did her best to pretend to be hurt but in all honesty she knew he just wanted to tackle the books as soon as possible. So she rolled her eyes. "Alright." She says almost broodingly turning to Robin. "There are some snacks in the fridge. Don't let him eat more chocolate, I think he had more than enough. My number is written down on a sticky note beside the phone and the number of the bar I am. If you need anything don't hesitate to call, or if anything happens..."
"Regina.." Robin called out, stopping her rambling mid-track. "Everything is going to be fine, don't worry." He smiled, "Now go, and give more money into the commercial holiday that's Valentine's day." Chuckling, Regina reached for her purse that was on the small table besides the door. It had been such a long a time since she'd been out, sure she had spent time with her friends but it was usually during lunch hours, never a bar, where there was a chance of someone hitting on her. With one last look to the pair of guys she was living behind, Regina headed outside, down the stairs and into the night where Tink was waiting for her just outside.
When the brunette got into the car with a goofy grin on her face, the small blonde looked at her weirdly and Regina couldn't help the sharp 'What' that left her lips. Tink shook her head, putting the car on drive and like that drove off to where Mal and Cruella were waiting, or so Regina thought. "Nothing... just that you were smiling like you are keeping a secret." The blonde muttered, and Regina snickered. "Maybe I am." The brunette replied back, "But you know a thing or two about secrets, don't you dear?" The driver gasp softly, and Regina rolled her eyes. After that they went silent, her mind drifting off to her apartment where her ten-year old was having the greatest time with Robin. She still cannot believe that he was the babysitter the agency had sent. Normally, Mary was the one to take care of the boy, seeing as they have known each other for such a long time but alas, Mary had a boyfriend, David and he had informed her he was planning on proposing so there's that.
It felt like forever but they finally reached the bar, Forbidden Fruit. It was one of the places to be if you ever visited New York. Regina hadn't visited that much the place, only during the day because it was where they always had lunch, that and the owner of the bar was their friend, August Booth. They've known each other for about fifteen years, August was actually one of Daniel's friends, even though being around him sent a pang to her chest truth was the pain wasn't as nearly as powerful as the way their friendship made her feel. August was almost like a brother to her so whenever he asked to go around the bar, whether it was with the girls or alone, she made sure to make time to do so. Plus, he was one of the people Henry liked the most, seeing as they both loved books.
Once they got out of the car, Regina fixed her dress, smoothing over the none-existent wrinkles over it. Even if she wasn't all too keen on going out, she still wants to look her best. "Ready?" Tink asked, standing by Regina's side. "Mal, Lily and Cru are already inside." Without anything more left to say, the pair made their way into the bar. Like she imagined, it was full with lovey dovey couples and a few tables were in what it seems to be as group date. At the far corner of the bar she saw the girls but before they headed there, Regina stopped. "I'm going to say hi to August, I'll catch up with you guys in a bit." The blonde half shrug, before she did as told. Regina moved to the bar area where her friend was working tirelessly. Upon seeing her, the man rose a brow, heading her way.
"Fancy seeing you here." He teased with a grin. Regina replied with a roll of her eyes. "Yes, well those three managed to convinced me to come." The brunette said after managing to grab one of the stools. "You seem to be having a good night." She looked around. August grinned, nodding his head as he reached for a bottle of Vodka, Cointreau and Apple Schnapps. "Valentine's day is great business." He said and she had to agree, just like her flower shop had lucrative day, so will the bar. Once he was done mixing the drink, he placed the appletini right in front of her, Regina smiled. "You know me so well." She muttered taking a sip of her drink. "You are spending the night with those three, I think a little liquid courage is needed." Oh how right he was. "I saw David and Mary a while ago, they were on their way to a restaurant. Where did you leave Henry?" Mills sips from her drink once more, before deciding to answer, "Home, with his new babysitter..." A beat of silence, "...Robin." The surprised expression on August was followed by a smirk that caused the brunette to roll her eyes and continue drinking. "The Robin?" He throws a towel over his shoulder before both hands were planted over the railing of the bar. "The same guy that goes to the flower shop every day to buy you a flower?" Regina was already regretting telling August about it. When the whole Robin thing began, she had needed someone to talk to so Booth was her best choice because if she told one of the girls, chances were they would try to set them up and Regina wasn't in the mood for dating, still isn't. "Yes that Robin. Now..." She stood up, holding her drink in one hand and purse on the other. "I am going to the table with the girls, you will have to wait to get all the teasing out of your system." Raising his hands defensively, August sniggered. Regina turning on her black heels, heading towards the table. Everything was well until she arrived and at the same time a man arrived as well. Regina's brow furrowed in confusion, the trio of blondes, and single brunette, sharing a look that was too conspiratory for her taste.
"About time..." Mal said, picking up her things. "This is Jefferson, your date for the night. Jefferson this is my friend Regina." Lily and Tink were having a conversation Regina couldn't quite discern, and Cruella was giving her a look she really disliked. Jefferson offered her his hand to shake and she accepted to be polite but her friends were dead, she should have known it was going to take such a turn. Everyone left before Regina could say something, leaving her alone with the guy. For a moment the silence was boarding the awkward kind, not knowing what she should say to him, and he seemed to be on the same boat...
"Oh boy this is going to be a long night..." She muttered to herself, glad that the music had turned a tad more louder making her words disappear in the sea of sound.
|xXx|
When Regina got home, it was with a long sigh. Jefferson had insisted to drive her since the girls had disappeared on her. She didn't have a too bad of a time, at first it was rather awkward but as the drink started flowing, they let the uncomfortable air bleed out, and started talking. Turns out, Jefferson is a fashion designer. His specialty was hats but he dabbles in everything every now and then. They talked about her job as a florist and he confessed that there were time he wanted to try some flower patterns on his designs but hadn't because picking a flower hadn't exactly been easy. The brunette had given him a few ideas that he absolutely adored and well that was that. She faked being tired after two hours, claiming that her job had taken the best of her that day, which wasn't a lie, and that is why she was back home. She slipped in quietly, took off her heels and headed to the living room where Robin was quietly reading a book that she couldn't read the title off.
"Hey..." She muttered, sitting down on the couch where he was sitting. Her legs were in pain, it had been a long time since she wore heels.
"Hey yourself." He replied, marking the page he was in before closing the book. "I wasn't expecting you till later." Robin placed the book on top of the coffee table, beside of what it seems a cup of tea. Now that she thinks about it, tea sounds so good after all the appletinis she drank courtesy of August.
Regina yawned softly, leaning back into the couch. "I suppose is due to the fact that my friends absolutely played me." She's thinking of a way to get back at them. Their intentions might have been pure but they went about it all wrong. Though she is aware that there was no way to go about it when it came to her. Robin on the other hand, turned, to her completely, interest peaked.
"What did they do? If is not too much to ask." Robin's eyes were fully on her. They held a kindness, that made Regina trust him in way that no other man had before. The brunette sighed once more, slender digits pinching the bridge of her nose. "They lured me into a date with some stranger..." Okay, he was a stranger for Regina but Mal had known Jefferson for a while, which is probably why she dared leaving Mills alone in the bar with him, otherwise she wouldn't have, Mal always been the most sensible of the group. "It wasn't that bad of a date, but it wasn't a great deal either." Robin whistle softly, and stood causing Regina to look up at him confused. The man chuckled, "I sense you need tea, do you mind if I bring you a cuppa?" And it was like he was reading her mind. Regina muttered a soft 'please' and left. Mills took the opportunity to go into Henry's room. He was sleeping soundly, a stack of books on his bedside. Regina was sure that a few of them weren't his but that something they can talk in the morning. Since she was already close to her bedroom, Regina decided it the perfect moment to get out off that tight dress and into something more comfortable. A few minutes later she was back in the living room sporting a tank top and pajama pants, face void of make up. She felt more like herself once more. When she sat down on the couch, her eyes traveled to the base on the coffee table where the flowers Robin gave her were on display, she blushed because he must have noticed them while she was away. Maybe he must think she is insane or something like that. Or maybe not? After all, he did give the floors and it was not polite to get rid of them like they were nothing. He actually look around the shop to pick on, never has he ever giving Regina the same flower twice and if he kept that up, then he was bound to run out of new flowers to give her.
"Here you go." Robin's voice cut through her thoughts. Regina's head bobbed gently as she accepted the cup of tea. "Thanks..." The aroma woke her up, the warmth of the ceramic mug waking her up. She is a coffee addict but even she cannot deny the allure of a good cup of tea, and since Robin is British the chances of that one being a really delicious one had her excited. "Now that you have tea, we can talk about your impromptu date." Regina groaned, carefully taking a sip of her tea, it only caused Robin to chuckle. "That bad?" He rose a brow. "Not really..." She managed to say before setting the cup down over her lap, "But I don't see a second date in the future. He was nice and all but I might suspect he is gay." Robin almost choked on his tea, causing Regina to laugh. "How exactly did you get to that conclusion?" The man dared to questioned, "Because.." She cleared her throat, "... He kept asking about August, the owner of the bar. I introduced them when August brought a refill and ever since that moment, Jefferson kept asking me about his life." Without even realizing it, Robin was closer to her. If he noticed, he didn't let on but Regina was too immerse telling him about her date that she didn't even noticed how close to one another they were. They spent about an hour in that position, tea going cold, or what was left of it, and the conversation flowing like it didn't with Jefferson. When Regina yawned, Robin grinned, taking the cup from her hands and placing it on the coffee table. "I should be going. I've kept you up more than you have to." Regina was about to say that he shouldn't worry but a yawn won over and he stood up. The brunette did the same. "Thanks for taking care of Henry." She finally said, because even though this was a surprise, Regina was actually glad. Plus, this opportunity had given the chance to get to know Robin better and also it made her realize that going out with someone wasn't so bad. She didn't feel guilt about it, even though Jefferson isn't the one for her. Regina lead Robin to the door after he picked up his things. When he was about to open the door, the man turned to her. "I lend Henry a few books he wanted to read." Regina nodded, she figured as much. "He's a brilliant kid." Regina beamed with pride, "I know."
"Also one more thing..." He took something out of his bag, and gave it to Regina, it was a box of chocolate. "I'd give you flowers but you have quite the lovely bouquet on the living room..." Regina blushed, "A rather handsome and nice gentleman gave them to me. Aren't they simple beautiful?" Regina's compliment seemed to made Robin blushed, oh the pride flared up. "Speaking of him..." The brunette gathered her wits, and got on her tip toes to kiss his cheek, "Happy Valentine's day, Robin." They both smiled at one another. "You know what was my favorite part of the night?" Regina asked, to which Robin shook his head no, "Strangely enough, getting home to you..." If he was smiling before, then now he was beaming like the sun.
"I have to be honest, I've never like this day but for tonight, I can say for the first time that I actually do." He then placed a kiss, on her cheek, turning the knob to the door, "Goodnight, Regina." The brunette took a step back, watching Robin crossed the door. But before he could leave, Regina grabbed his wrist, Robin stopped dead in his track with a confused look on his face. "Would you be my valentine?" It was cheesy and completely not Regina but the words had been blurted out before she had the chance to think them through. In his surprise, Robin walked back into the apartment, and without even thinking, without even realizing, he grabbed her face and kissed her. It came as a shock to Regina the sudden kiss but she couldn't deny that it felt good, it felt right. Once Robin pulled away, both with their eyes closed, Robin muttered a yes against her lips before taking a step back. "Good..." She finally opened her eyes, and smile. "See you tomorrow?" She inquired, and he nodded, "Same place, same hour." He winked and left.
Maybe Valentine's day wasn't too bad after all.
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Written on the body: 2016 in photos.
,(This is the latest I have ever written this post, but the theme of 2016 has been “please be patient with me, I’m doing the best I can,” so it seems sort of appropriate.)
New Year’s Day
“What has been really nice about this year, I think, is that I kept a lot of it to myself. I spent time with the people that mattered to me and I didn’t feel like I needed to explain why things were important to me.”
This is how I wrapped up the end of my 2015 post. The first hour of 2016 started with a boy yelling at me outside a bar, demanding to explain why I would want to be alone when he was willing to be my boyfriend. I went back to Moira’s apartment with Mae and Katie, where we snuggled up in one bed like we had done so many times in the nineteen years behind us. Later that day, Frank came over and fulfilled my Christmas wish for girl power and a gypsy curse (Hunger Makes Me A Modern Girl and a rusted sailor’s compass that spins around despite sitting still are sitting on my desk at this very moment). We had a horror movie marathon and killed a bottle of Jameson while we ate baby carrots and screeched on my couch.
So, really, the first morning of 2016 started with this thought: Don’t let people who treat you unfairly stick around. Take a self portrait and move the hell forward.
January
Photo: Juliette Sandleitner
Photo: Alyssa Roth
The rest of January was really good to me, despite some hard stuff.
I went on a secret date with a mutual friend that turned into a lot of dates. I was advised by a lot of people not to, but I’m still glad I did and hope he’s glad too. I went to a housewarming party that ended in me standing outside my ex’s house while it rained sideways and I tried to reason with myself. I don’t remember why you ran outside or what we talked about, but I remember hoping we wouldn’t have the opportunity to talk again so I wouldn’t need to keep choosing over and over. I decided that there is no real time to say good bye and that the things you love will eventually just stop showing up.
A big snowstorm hit. I spent the better part of it walking through the streets with Frank and Finley, drinking bad whiskey from the fish flask and being grumpy old men. I drove up to the Ghost Ranch the moment the roads cleared and spent the day drinking basil gimlets in a snow fort and shoveling out people’s cars.
I went to Maria’s house to have a silly afternoon of shooting and eating burgers with her, Alyssa, Juliette (who I had not seen in over two years), Annalise, and Eden. All of the snow from the week before had melted almost overnight and it was warm enough to walk around without a coat.
Other things about January: Mae and Katie and I founded B.Y.O.M. (bring your own mom), which basically just meant getting blitzed off $2 margaritas with our moms. I went to visit Max and saw the “woods behind my house” that I had been hearing about for the better half of the year and watched The Prisoner. Mae and I went to brunch a lot and got a matching pair of parking tickets. I started working at a tequila bar with Frank.
Most importantly, maybe, was the beginning of the thought that I wasn’t doing what I should be doing.
February
“Rabbit, Rabbit”
February was another big month. I housesat for my godfather and spent a week and a half with my golden retriever babe counterpart, Mollie. Mae and I got accidentally-on-purpose mimosa drunk and met Cory Booker at a Clean Ocean Action rally. Max came to visit; I cut his beard and showed him Pershing Field, where we saw the best sunset I’ve ever seen in person. I took my shoes off and broke some pieces of ice in the ocean with my bare toes.
I made a weird (but, in retrospect, funny) mistake, had a bad day, and saw a different sunset in the same spot with Frank. Mae and I got into a fight and made up. It snowed again. I made a bunch of Star Wars valentines. I went to Max’s birthday (X-Files pennant in tow) and met twenty people in one night. Meg and I hung out alone for the first time and got a little drunk at a Bond St. music video filming while making new friends and dragging egotistical boys.
I went on the worst! Date! Of all! Time! It’s my favorite anecdote now. I’m still convinced I was on a prank show somewhere.
Frank and I saw Jenny Lewis perform her Rabbit Fur Coat ten year anniversary show, which ended up being one of the best shows I’ve ever seen. I watched Jenny Lewis, tiny and string and mighty, reduced a sold-out 2,900 seat house to pin-drop silence when she sang Happy without a mic.
Frank and I saw another show a week later (Mary Lattimore/Julia Holter) and ate clementines and giggled about the secacu pail tation and decided that most things in life can be sorted out in the morning (unless you sleep through work the next day, which I did).
This was also the drunken movie night couch sesh that ended with a reprimand from my mother because she was worried Frank was going to drunkenly freeze to death in the snow walking the two blocks back to his house. To this day, Frank claims my mother is the only one who has ever worried about him actually dying in a ditch.
Excessive amounts of laughing and drinking with Frank aside, I started spending a lot of time alone and celebrating that. I started a little series about documenting my life alone vs. with a partner, as this was my first year alone in almost four years.
I went to the Cold War Surf party with Brie and Dave and spent most of the night talking to their friend about PA school. I hadn’t seen Dave since the summer and I hadn’t seen Brie so happy in a long while. I went on a date with a photographer the next day and left early because I felt sick. He said leap days cause bad luck and universal unsteadiness, but I told him it was just a hangover. It was the flu.
March
Spent the first week of March melted to my couch with the flu. I shook myself out of it just in time to make a job interview and meet Vicky for her week back in America. We spent too much money on burgers in Crown Heights, but I was so happy to see her and so sad to say good bye. She played me a love song she recorded on her phone while I battled my way through Brooklyn traffic to drop her off.
My flight for Anna Kate’s wedding in Georgia was the next day. It was my first time taking a plane on my own and my first time being a bridesmaid. It feels a little cheap to write about this now, honestly- I think I felt better in four days than I’d felt all year. I finally got to see my best college friend’s town and house and family and meet her in-laws. Everyone was so kind and warm and accommodating (even the Georgia weather) and I really felt a great deal of sadness when I left.
Back at home, it snowed a little more and I showed Frank and Finley my secret beach. The tide was too high to make it to the voodoo bunker, so we stuck a pin in it. The pin’s there for now, along with other things. We started spending a lot of nights in his backyard raging with the fire pit, baby carrots, and a witch of the wood.
I spent a lot of March in a weird place and living in terms of “this time last year.” It felt like there were a million other Elises living their lives differently just out of my periphery. Still with Alex, still in school, someplace I couldn’t imagine. I knew I didn’t want any of those things, really, but I got caught up in the missing and the wanting instead of trying to change my life.
I was still seeing a person I shouldn’t have been seeing, letting myself feel guiltier and guiltier. I went to Meg’s show in West Long Branch and drank a milkshake (because I wasn’t through pretending I wasn’t lactose intolerant) and it was sick-sweet and I sat on a barstool sick and sweet and sad, a stomach to match a mood.
Brighter side: Mae and Frank and I went to see Girlpool, found a Jurassic Park themed bathroom in a pho place, and didn’t get ticketed parking in Brooklyn. My two best friends got along so well and it made me feel appreciative and lame and lucky.
I think March is when I started seeing a reporter, but I’m not sure now.
April
April was good and bad. I went on a lot of interviews for jobs I didn’t want, went on a lot of dates with a reporter I liked, and went for a lot of walks with different people. My anxiety was mean, uncontrollable, and manifested physically most days. Wilco got sick at the beginning of the month and I spent a lot of time curled up in bed with him, which was something I needed almost as much as he did. We were both tired out and needed each other.
I turned 24, and it was the first birthday I wasn’t sad about for a long time. Mae, Brie, and I celebrated two birthdays at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden and had the nicest day. Mae made me a Twin Peaks necklace on the laser cutter and I don’t think I’ve ever been more careful with another piece of jewelry.
I had lunch with an ex and they asked me to come back, which I could not bear to consider.
Still, I was happy. Things were nice, and I was happy and appreciative. When things were good, I felt like if all of life were that nice, I wouldn’t appreciate anything. The bad days made the good ones, if that makes sense. If I woke up miserable and cranky, I knew I’d be better for it, because every nice thing might feel even a fraction as good as a truly good day. It’s a backwards way to live, but it was how I was living at the time.
I saw Colin Hay with Mike, the reporter, and Frankie Cosmos/Eskimeaux with Frank. The Frankie show was the first time we were one of the oldest people in the audience, and we celebrated by eating Cracker Barrel and wearing plastic sandals. We also spent a lot of time raging in the backyard, firing up Finley, and witching in the woods. One day I met all three cats, hung out with his whole family for the first time in the longest time, and we found out worms move really fast. Like, really fast, guys. Also, a tub of pretzel rods that had been moving between our houses finally met it’s bitter end.
I don’t know how I forgot about this until now, but Frank and I also saw Rihanna the day before my birthday and then followed it up with a visit to the Wonder Bar on my birthday, which was much less eventful and involved leaving Frank to talk to someone from high school while I danced. If a human look could convey that shriek R2D2 does, that would be the look Frank was giving me at that moment.
I went to visit Max again. We split a turkey sandwich, helped his mom set up a printer, and went off-roading in the pine barrens.
Erica and I tried to go biking at Sandy Hook, but I popped my tire shoving my bike into the trunk. We walked up and down the bayside of the hook, flew kites, and visited the voodoo beach before it got dark.
Went on a few brunch dates with Mike, accompanied by some of my friends and then his dog and then alone. He was a good sport when Mae and Taylor accused him of being a murderer for having two phones and his dog’s name started with an L and that is honestly and truly all I can remember about this person I knew for the better part of two months.
May
The Dead End Kids \m/
May was filled with work and friends and more work. Starting with work: I began my stint with the escape room, which proved to be a nonstop hell ride where I met a handful of really good pals, including Shayne and Laura. It’s also where I started put all of my weird feelings and doubts to bed, which was a good feeling after a long time. I also started working at Stone Dog, a female-founded scenic shop that had just moved to my hometown. It was good to be doing carpentry and design nonstop with patient and fun coworkers. At this point, I was already making plans to go back to school, so the enormous pressure I had felt at my previous creative jobs had up and vanished. I felt nervous, free, excited for my life, and happy with a secret. I was still at the tequila bar, but I was working most of my shifts with Frank and had hit a happy groove with my routine.
My mom and I got drunk at mother’s day brunch and my dad needed to pack us into the backseat to drive us home. I was still seeing Mike at this point, I think, and other Mike (my favorite bartender) asked me about him. We broke things off a week later for lack of feelings, and I wish every conversation could be as easy as that one.
Katie graduated, which left me in happy, proud tears. She came home and slept for a full day.
I went kayaking with Erica and her (at the time) new boyfriend, Timmy. It was the last time I saw her with blue hair and the first time I saw her so happy with a partner. They’re still together and, while I don’t see her as often lately, I’m happy when I think about where she is in her life.
Waj joined the Peace Corps and had a going away barbecue before he left for China. That was one of my favorite nights of the summer. Mae and I decided to bike (which was a way better decision when we were sober and not drunkenly trying to get uphill so we could go to bed at 2 am). We started a wheels gang called the Dead End Kids with Jake, Nick, Luke, and Paul. Little did we know, we’d be starting the summer’s most potent curse, but more on that later. Anyways, it was nice to reunite with people I really, really loved while saying good bye to one of our best.
I had many more backyard nights with my great aunts / wiz bang gang / goo goo dogs (Frank + Finley).
June
When you realize you matched your outfits and your ice cream cones
June started off in Annapolis, Maryland, where Stone Dog had sent me for a set install. I would go on to install an MTV set a week later and throw up in a gender-neutral bathroom between raising Hollywood flats a week and a half later.
Robbie graduated, which was one of the best days. We had a graduation party two weeks later with our whole family, which was weird and surprisingly nice. Colin and Ashley also had a barbecue to celebrate their new house and engagement.
Mae and Frank and I went to our second big concert together (well, Northside Festival). We saw Wolf Parade, ate vegan ice cream, played with tiny hands and street sharks, and laughed way too much and often. We also all matched outfits like any proper girl gang.
The biggest update of them all came in June: telling my family about my intention to go back to school and become a physician’s assistant. To save time, here’s my post from June about it:
“After a year of working perfect, career-making carpentry and set design jobs, I’m realizing the reason I’ve been miserable for five years hasn’t been because my personal strides in life and mental health haven’t been good enough. It’s because I truly hate what I do.
I love carpentry, and I love art and design. I feel the small rush of job satisfaction every once in a while, but it shouldn’t take a 24 hr Thanksgiving Day Parade shift to give me joy. This career has only made me feel small and useless, and my contempt for feeling like what I’m doing doesn’t matter has only grown over time. I’m twenty four. I shouldn’t be so consistently unhappy with what I’m doing. I should have been feeling joy when I was nineteen and going to school for set design, not utter annihilation.
I can blame my professors or that one summer or sexism in the workplace, but I can’t make excuses for all of those nights when I was eighteen and nineteen and wishing I had gone into the medical field. I can’t ignore being twenty two and twenty three and twenty four and feeling like my life was over and that I had made the biggest mistake of my life. I’m so young and I have so much velocity and I will never, ever have as much energy as I do now to make a change.
I’ve had the best possible run in the art field and will continue to do so while I complete the undergraduate prerequisites required to pursue being a physician’s assistant. I know this sounds like a big announcement, but it really isn’t- I just need a small outlet (this blog) to take a baby step and feel like I have a little support while I transition into a new part of my life.
I feel good. I feel so good. While I was in college, I didn’t plan for growing up and being an adult with a career. I planned on being a girl who would die from depression before I ever needed to make longterm plans for happiness. The past few weeks of planning have been some of the happiest days of adulthood I’ve ever felt. I feel so renewed and I can’t wait for it, all of it- studying and volunteering and going into a new career humbled and vulnerable and ready to learn.
Anyways, there it is- somewhere.
It’s time to lean the hell in.”
So, there it is. I was finally moving forward, registering for prerequisite classes, and seeking out EMS shifts for my volunteer hours. I’d been planning it for months, but I knew I wouldn’t have much time to think once I started. I was keeping up my hours at escape room, working on designs for a new room, and counting on that job to carry me through classes.
Other things: Getting close and then very far away from a coworker and friend, putting all of my trust in the wrong people, a drunk girl reading my palm from the sidewalk outside the bar, and the end of a long soreness while I watched someone I cared about very much fall in love.
July
I didn’t take a single photo with my camera in July. July was a rush of plastic bag cellphone photos, cherry-stained teeth, and fourteen hour work days. Work at the escape room was both really good and really bad. I was getting closer to Shayne and Laura, managing my own schedule, and had a constant influx of weird projects and challenges. It was, however, coming at a cost: growing anxieties about being around people who both wanted and despised me, dealing with our crook of a boss, spending too many hours and too much money, and not prioritizing other things. On the bright side, I did get a perfect grade in my first responder respiratory class.
It was around this time that Frank and I started talking seriously about moving in together, which is sweet and a little dumb in retrospect. I had just agreed to take on five more years of school, so I don’t know why I thought shaking up my living arrangements could be in the cards for me. We also had an incredibly uncomfortable third of July, giggled about handwrittens, and saved the backyard witch from burning.
Mae moved home and started working on the boardwalk, so I spent a lot of time running her hoagitos and taking walks up and down the boardwalk alone until she was done closing up shop. Thoughts on Mae at this time: “Super thankful all the time for a best friend who constantly makes me feel like I deserve everything, even if I don’t feel like I deserve her when we’re apart.”
Also: Modest Mouse x Brand New at the Mann in Philly, which involved mixing Mae / Brie / Dave with Shayne. Also saw the Dolphin clan (and actually, now that I think of it, this may have been the last time I saw Max).
Frank had to drop out of our Panorama plans last-minute, so Mae and I had an unbelievably cool day on Randall’s Island. We ate popsicles, stood in lots of lines, and proved that we could find a pair of hammocks in literally any environment. We saw The Front Bottoms, Kurt Vile, and (in one of the few self-actualizing moments of my short life) LCD Soundsystem. It was a hundred degrees, but it turns out Mae’s longtime wet neck bandana trick had actually become a fashion staple in 2016, so we fit in with the best of them.
Also: Went on a few dates with the local candy factory owner’s son, was still too old for me, can never visit Old M’ Candies again.
Also also: Started the most ill-advised project with Shayne and Luke at escape room. The only positive was getting to build things (like a glow in the dark table) and a lot of gin and tonics.
Also also also: Ill-advised lifeguard stand kisses at Birthmae, starting another cycle I do not regret.
Also also also also: Wishing I had listened to A and kept someone at an arm’s length.
August
August was mostly good, partly bad. The “mostly” is the things that happened and the people I spent my time with, the “partly” is everything I let myself get caught up in.
I met a girl in a bar that told me ghosts come in intervals of three years, and I thought about that a lot in the coming weeks. Felt raw and wide open to things that were far behind me and let myself get caught in that cycle of grief.
Was still at escape room every day, fighting the good (and sometimes petty) fight. Shayne and I started taking turns throwing knives into the wall and spackling the holes back up a lot, at least. We also packed in a car to Pennsylvania to see Frank and Sarah in their play.
I went to Colorado with my family and saw landscapes I hadn’t ever seen, took too few pictures, and spent most of my time profoundly distracted by my future.
Mae and I saw a lot of movies on the roof of the Baronet, Dave and I finally saw our overdue Night Vale live show, and I made more and more ill-advised decisions I just cannot regret.
I finally drove up to visit Loretta after a year or two of phone conversations, KFC and white zinfandel in tow (her request). I was only the second visitor she had since moving into the nursing home a month and a half prior. I didn’t know how to explain her to my friends- “my dead friend’s grandmother” just didn’t seem appropriate, but “a friend almost four times my age” didn’t either.
I also had my first friend date with Laura. We split a basket of fries with a dog on the patio of Bond St. and then waited patiently after that dog fell asleep on me, went to a show at the Parlor Gallery, visited Mae on the boardwalk, and got our futures read by a group of chain-vaping psychics. My psychic said I was full of darkness and stone and that my sister’s name started with a K. Laura’s psychic said she would marry someone soon and we both cackled our way down the boardwalk.
Had my last backyard rage night with Frank in August. It feels stubborn to write it down, but. He was falling in love and that was a good thing.
We got sushi and sake drunk and he decided to go fully vegetarian, so that was Frank’s last memory of fish.
September
(One day before breaking my foot)
The very first things that happened in September: becoming the fourth victim of the Dead End Kids summer of ‘16 curse. After that polaroid was taken, Nick broke his collarbone long boarding, Jake broke his entire body long boarding, Paul broke his elbow longboarding, and I broke my foot in four places longboard jousting. (I named my longboard Lance, both for the 90′s gay undertones and the jousting). Mae and Luke made it through the rest of the year unscathed.
So the rest of the fall happened on an air cast, which was weird and embarrassing and my second time on crutches in two years.
I started Medical Terminology, my first class since my decision to go back to school. I was tired and broke and broken, but that class made me feel like my life was moving in a good direction.
Luke and Shayne and I were close to finishing up our escape room, exhausted and dead inside. This is probably the last time I’ll mention it. An entitled boy made me uncomfortable and unhappy at every opportunity. Work in September was the most negative part of my life (my year) and I don’t really care to think about it more than that.
Shayne and Laura and I continued our Monday Fundays, playing lots of shuffleboard and drinking too much gin for a weekday. In a weird way, I made more friends in a cast than I did without one. Alex started showing up, which was easy and weird and nice. We spent some time talking about a girl we both loved a whole lot and I remember feeling like it was a stroke of unbelievable, overwhelming luck for life to work out this way.
The second annual Maker’s Fest happened, in a new location and three times the size as the year before. Mae was doing henna, so I bopped (clunked) around catching up with vendors and talking to new ones.
Mae and I celebrated our twenty year anniversary living across the street from each other and being best friends. I get real sappy talking about this and I’m trying to keep this all business, so here’s some thoughts on that: “My best friend has been my best friend for 5/6 of my life and that fraction is just going to become wider and deeper as we get older. Mae is one of those people that make you marvel at the capacity of your own heart and wonder how you could ever love someone more than you do right now and I am so, so profoundly lucky to have her in my life.”
Frank and I saw Bruce Springsteen play his longest show in history, a record he broke the next day and the next. He sang every favorite, every B-side, every song we’d driven through downtown Freehold blasting at 3 am since we were 17. It was unbelievable. It was also the last significant period of time I spent with one of my best friends, so I think about that night pretty often.
Also, I spent a lot of time on the beach shivering and finding the seven sisters.
October
“Your chest is wide open and yawning and you heart fills the room it inhabits and I wonder how you aren’t eroded away to dust by now.”
October was getting to know someone new, really trying to make myself a little more open to make space for all of the new people I cared about, missing my best friends, and trying to take pictures. Despite the good stuff, I was feeling very emotionally spent.
Became closer and closer with Shayne, was happy and appreciative for life throwing me a person so good. Thought about the cyclicality of my life and relationships, how I was making another dent in another passenger seat as my space in another faded away.
We left the bar one night and kept driving and ended up on the dirt JCP+L road I had found a few summers before. We watched fog roll over the pond and parked in the middle of the woods to look at the stars. I marked “star night- shayne” on my calendar so I wouldn't forget it, but it seems cheap to try and write about it now.
Shayne and Laura and Alex and I went on a last-minute vacation to Sleepy Hollow on Halloween weekend. I don’t think Elise from a year ago would believe that, and if she did, she wouldn’t buy that I had a genuinely good time. We watched bad horror movies, had an outdoor fire, and worried about getting murdered by our preppy Airbnb host. Apparently Hillary Clinton was walking around those same woods that very same weekend, but we didn’t see her.
Dan and I went to a Devil’s game and took loads of embarrassing pictures. I stared to realize that I was slowly becoming a partner.
Mae and I went as Neve Campbell and Bruce Campbell for Halloween, the closest to a couple’s costume we had ever gotten. It was the first time I had seen her all month. Halloween was a weird night for me ultimately, but Mae was the best part.
November
“the earthly and obvious parts if me are touching your face and repeating a strumming “this is a person who loves you”
but there’s a loop, a pause, a gap in the human condition
endless separations and connections, tidal and vascular
falling out of orbit is much easier than fighting your way back in”
What can I say about November? Trump won the presidency, Dan and I spent the weekend hiking, I broke up with Dan, and I spent a lot of time alone on the beach. I got my cast off, put my bare feet in the sand, and waited for clarity.
All of my siblings were home at once. Frank and I went on a walk, I worried that Finley would not recognize me, Finley knocked me over. There’s a lot to say about fish flasks and nerves and secrets multiplied into a shared burden twice the size, but I won’t say any of it. It had been a long time and I felt sick and sad and nervous.
I took a self portrait I really, really liked. It was one of those portraits where recognized myself.
Still, November was a month of disconnect and I wondered how many hearts I would dig through before I found my own.
December
December was long and happy and lazy.
I made two knives, applied to jobs, babysat my golden retriever counterpart. My siblings and I were in the same house all at once. I got strep throat and spent four days glued to a bed. I got the highest grade in my medical terminology class and my teacher asked me to apply to the school she worked at when the time came. I missed Frank, Mae came home.
Lexi came to New York with Jesse and Carl. I took eight pictures, learned how to play pool, and talked about my hometown too much.
I wrote this, and it’s all I can bring myself to say about the rest of December/my overwhelming luck:
“sometimes I feel so pitch-black, so lacking and longing
you are so unconcerned with my surface and shortness and shortcomings and I just do not know how you are so gasping and wide open, so ready for me at any moment
and I think of the constant draft, the tiny bites on rawness that you must feel to be so vulnerable for me at all times”
What can I say about 2016? It already feels so far behind me. I guess there’s a simple logic to doing a year in review in 2016 and not nine days later. Time is pushing ahead and I am too. It’s the same belief that keeps me honest with my loved ones: “Say it all now, because you are running out of time.”
I never know what to do here. Usually I get to the end of my review and feel heavy with loss or exhaustion. Sometimes I’m angry, and I can feel smoke ribbons coming out from between my teeth and making knots in the air around me. It’s hard, digging up the evidence of your life month-by-month and trying to put words to the sum of your parts. You think you have the shape of it, that you’ve smoothed it out into something you can understand, and then a sharp edge catches your finger and you’re bleeding all over again. It’s hard to be honest, to look your past in the eyes until it blinks first, and it’s even harder to be surprised by it. I am so many different moving objects all at once, flickers and beats and wanting. My past isn’t going to stay still just because I want it to.
This year feels different. Does distance grant clarity, or does change? Was this an easy year, or was it just productive? I went into this year looking over my shoulder, waiting for the things I had pushed aside to catch up to me. I realized that the thing I feared had already happened to me and was getting further and further away as time moved on. I realized that making a mistake did not mean I needed to waste my entire life trying to adapt to it. I started to let people grow on me instead of holding them at an arm’s length. (Actually- I really, really loved the people I loved and started to love myself just as much or more.) I let myself make mistakes, indulged in tiny failures, and built a lot of furniture. I hustled, I planned, I rode my longboard. I got good grades (grades!) and got stoked about school. I feel weird and good, even if things look a little shaky and transitional written down.
Here’s how I ended my 2015 year in review:
“Anyways- 2015 was really, really good to me, and I was really, really good to myself. I don’t have expectations for 2016, and I don’t have any goals besides pushing forward. By this time next year, I want to be looking back and remembering 2016 as hard and good progress into a life I want.”
And here I am. I already know 2017 is going to be about hustle, change, and working for the things I want.
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Do you have any boyfriend ryota headcanons? Im really curious on what hed be like in a relationship!
Wow, I said I’d do this ages ago, didn’t I...? Well, Nonnie, you can wait no longer, so here’s what one can expect if you want to date one very precious, fragile, sweet-as-hell cinnamon roll that is Ryouta Mitarai~!
(If you haven’t seen DR3, you’re gonna have a few spoilers up ahead, so... Beep, beep, it’s the Spoiler Car, coming through!!!)
Expect right away that your first meeting with Mitarai is not going to go very well... Mostly because he’s not the most social person and he isn’t really interested in talking to others when he could be working on his animations. You’re either going to have to be just as shy and get caught in an apology back and forth for bumping into him, gently push through his boundaries, a weeb too...or just plain lucky.
He will quickly latch onto you if you’re into anime too, though. He could talk to you for days about the color schemes, character depth, and incredible music of your shared favorites. He might also try to change your mind if you aren’t too fond of one of his favorites, only to blush and apologize when he’s realizing how pushy he’s being.
He falls pretty quickly, this poor boy. You’ll likely be his number one fan, moral support, and...honestly his acting significant other, even if you two aren’t even together yet. Mitarai means well, but his home is a mess, he takes horrible care of himself, and he is going to treasure you like his anime collection when you cheer him on or try helping with suggesting things. (You end up learning so much about anime and animation from him, that it’s incredible.) The thing to take from here is that your continued support and genuine care for him, his health, and this anime of hope he’s making... He’s gonna fluster himself over his feelings for you quite a bit.
Your first key note is him going to shyly say it’s okay if you start calling him “Ryouta”, if you want... Instead of using his last name... You allow him to use yours, as well, and he’s embarrassingly giddy over such a sign of close friendship. (His head echoes you saying “Ryouta” every time you leave and he won’t stop smiling or humming songs that remind him of you. Imposter notes that when a character smiles, their joy is infectious. Ryouta knows it’s because of you and the feelings you’ve been giving him.)
He is going to try and fail so hard at asking you out. Remember, our sweet boy has grown up feeling that people...are just so hard to deal with. Anime was and still is his comfort and solace...but he still likes you so much that he really wants to ask you out... He has the worst luck with it, though. Ryouta then does it his way and makes a small animation of your favorite animal doing it for him. That would work, right...? I-it’s super cute-!! He still can’t give it to you, though, and has Imposter slip it into your desk for him.
(He’s so scared you won’t talk to him ever again after you see it and can’t even work on his animation. He’s also gonna cry a little out of fear, just because losing you would be agonizing and he’s worried this whole time he might’ve taken your kindness for him for granted and he’s going to be so lost without you--)
He screams when you knock on his door and falls right off of the bed in a rush to get to you. When you say you loved it and of course you want to date him.... He’s crying a little again and hugs you close. (Right then is the best moment of his life and he will likely animate it how he thinks it would look like from a third person view. He also keeps re-watching it whenever the need strikes him. He’s a huge dork.)
Prepare for anime binge watching with your new boyfriend. When’s not animating, he’s watching anime and you will watch it together and then get caught up in lengthy discussions about character and story arcs. His favorite ones are watching anime you haven’t seen yet and keeping an eye out for your reaction.
Dragging him away from the screen to be healthy for a little bit, geez. Eating more than just instant ramen, fast food, and chips. Going for walks (he’d need the jog, but he wouldn’t be able to handle it). SLEEPING. You will have to care for him, but he always makes sure to thank you for what you do and remind you that he loves and appreciates everything you do for him. This boy won’t take you for granted (unless he’s too deep in the animation zone; you’ll bring him back and remind him, though!)
Watching your boyfriend successfully blush every time you shower him in affection. Call him cute, kiss his cheek, kiss his lips... He’s gonna blush and get all shy~ They only thing he can really handle is holding your hand. That’s pretty much the number one reason he ends up going on walks with you for a little exercise; he gets to hold your hand the entire time and it makes him happy.
Sleep with him once, he wants to sleep with you more. He clings a lot at first, but will eventually relax over time. Still has an arm around you, though. He also likes spooning and kinda likes being the little spoon more? But getting to be the big spoon means he gets to hold you and that’s pretty wonderful too... As long as you’re with him, he’s happy.
Insecure, but he does trust you; more and more as time passes. Early on though, expect to hear him rag down on himself because there’s not much to him aside from his talent and there’s plenty of other people way more interesting than some nerd who likes anime and does nothing but draw all day and night... Your loyalty to him warms him up, especially since trying to be an assertive boyfriend to flirty jerks doesn’t work too well for him. (This boy tries so hard to be what he feels a boyfriend should be.)
Not the best at cooking, honestly. Does a little better with baking at least, as long as he keeps focused? But you’re gonna have to be the one entrusted with dinner more than him; Ryouta does his best to help, though!!
If you draw, sing, make music... Anything artistic leaning, he’s going to tHROW HIMSELF INTO YOUR INTEREST. He’s going to be so supportive of you, just like you are of him. He loves seeing whatever you do and if you do something with your hobby/talent, he’s gonna put it up somewhere where everyone can see. (With music or singing, he’ll have it downloaded so he can listen to it whenever he wants.)
If you’re into sports? Oh boy, he doesn’t know a lot about them... Only from a few sports anime he’s watched before; that’s how sports are like, right? Ryouta tries his best to still be super supportive and learn enough that he can cheer you on! (He also likes watching you move; you’re so incredibly graceful to him!! Likely uses watching you as a reference to moving characters.)
For someone who is down on himself when not into his talent, his heart breaks if you did the same. He sees you as someone so amazing to him... Looking so sad... It’s almost not right. He does his best to cheer you up and might even delay work on his anime in order to put all of his focus on you; for all you’ve done for him, it’s the least he can do.
It’s been mentioned before, but yes, Ryouta totally takes a little time out of his day to make little animations for you. He’s super embarrassed about it at first, but later on, he loves being there to see your reaction. He often does them when you’ve had a bad day or when he wants to remind you how much he loves you. Longer, fancier ones crop up for Christmas (along with an anime or a thing you like a lot), Valentines Day, your birthday, and your anniversaries. (He let Ibuki make music for one, once. Never. Again.)
When Junko involves herself in Ryouta’s business? It’s a mess. Ryouta’s main concern is not getting you involved and getting you hurt on his behalf... Meanwhile, you and Imposter are freaking out, because what happened to him?! (Well, you’re freaking out. Imposter is the voice of reason for you.)
...I want to keep going, but also talking about Despair Ryouta is gonna hurt me too much so, hEY IF YOU WANT ME TO KEEP GOING, HIT ME UP, BUDDY. I hope you liked this?? So many HCs to make up for the time I was gone and hadn’t responded~
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All the Small Things
“All the small things
True care, truth brings
I'll take one lift
Your ride, best trip…
Say it ain't so
I will not go
Turn the lights off
Carry me home
(Na-na, na-na, na-na, na-na, na-na)”
~ Blink 182, All the Small Things
I listen to terrible music when I exercise. When someone asks for my workout mix I am a bit hesitant to share, it’s that bad. It’s full of stuff that makes my husband give me that look that says, “Who. Are. You?” when it’s on in the kitchen when I’m making dinner. Mindless 80s tunes, a few boy bands, random one-hit-wonders, a-ha. Yes, that a-ha. Take On Me, a-ha. Is there another? Anyway, it distracts me while I’m running on the treadmill and that’s really the point.
And that’s what it was doing for me in the early hours of a recent Monday morning.
Funny thing about running: Sometimes it’s just easy, and sometimes it’s really, really hard. No matter what music is playing. And you never really know what kind of run you’re going have to get until you begin. Runners like me keep coming back for more, because sometimes we find that sweet pace that feels effortless and there’s nothing like that I-could-run-forever feeling. I prefer to run outside, but with the subzero Chicago temperatures upon us, even inside workouts in our cold basement are a challenge. At least there’s no wind to deal with, just a few tumbleweeds of cat hair.
That morning, Blink 182 provided the motivation for my workout. I wasn’t feeling terrific, but at least it was done before the kids got up. I pulled the right earbud out, slowed to a walk for a brief cool down and took a drink of water.
I heard a noise from upstairs and called out, “Who’s there?”
It was my littlest boy. A tiny voice called out from the top of the stairs, “Mommy, Lucas is sick.”
Say it ain’t so, indeed.
I wiped my face on a towel and slung it over my shoulder as I headed to the boys’ rooms to investigate.
Upstairs in his room, my older son was curled in a ball under his Spiderman bedspread. His head was on fire when I brushed it with my hand and he had sweated through his footed pajamas. I grabbed a thermometer from his top drawer. 103.5 degrees.
Oh baby, are you OK?
“No Mommy!” he cried, “And my head really hurts and OH NO I will miss the field trip and art class today!” Tears streamed down his flushed face.
The field trip, right – crap. The week ahead was typically busy, starting with chaperoning a field trip for the first grade class, haircuts for the boys on Tuesday, a long-postponed medical appointment for me on Wednesday, some writing to do, class party to get planned for Valentines’ Day, Super Bowl party to bake for… Normal, busy-Mom-Wife-Friend stuff coming up.
This calendar of events was running through my brain as I went to the bathroom and ran water on a washcloth, grabbing the Children’s Advil and a sticky dosage cup from the medicine cabinet.
“Let’s get you cooled down and we’ll figure it out, baby. It will be OK.”
I got him into cooler pajamas and dosed him with the magic purple elixir (damn that illegibly-tiny chart on the box… how much do you weigh?) and resettled him into bed, under a cool sheet. I turned my attention to his brother who had been running up and down the hall shooting the cat with the laser of the thermometer. I rescued the device and got him dressed and situated downstairs with Cheerios and a sippy cup of milk and the Big Box of Legos.
And it strikes me that this week is going to be very, very different from the last one.
Last week we really killed it. I worked out, I took some time to meditate, we had family dinners together. The kids had a great week of school and friends and we had mostly calm mornings. It always takes us a few weeks to get back in the swing of things after Holiday break but yeah, we had finally hit our stride.
Some weeks it all just clicks and it seems so easy, you don’t even think about it.
I tend to subscribe to the Dire Straits Theory of Parenthood: Sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes you’re the bug.
Last week, windshield for sure. This week, it looked like were seriously going to be that poor, squished bug.
As I opened my laptop to email teachers, ask for help getting little brother to school, apologize for missing the field trip, and what seemed like a million other little tasks I needed to sort through, I thought about a study I’d heard about on the Freakonomics podcast.
Two psychologists, Tom Gilovich from Cornell and Shai Davidai from The New School for Social Research, wrote a paper in 2016 called “The headwinds/tailwinds asymmetry: An availability bias in assessments of barriers and blessings.”
The idea is that when you face a challenge, it’s like having the wind is in your face (headwind), you can’t stop thinking about it and it’s quite distracting. But when the wind shifts and it’s giving you a push (like a tailwind, or some other advantage that behooves you), are grateful for about a minute, if that – and then you don’t notice it anymore. What’s true in running/cycling is true in life generally, the study concluded. When things go don’t well, people feel strongly that there’s some broader force working against them. When things are good, it doesn’t register as forcefully, if at all.
More broadly, the study shows that people who show gratitude are generally happier, in many ways. They sleep better, they experience overall better health and they are more able to overcome obstacles instead of simply deciding the deck is stacked against them and it does no good to fight the headwind of opposition.
I realized that last week had been the tailwind week. So easy, so fun, and I’d barely noticed. I’d even chalked it up to – pardon my hubris – parenting skill and artful scheduling. The truth was, I’d had luck and privilege on my side in countless ways. But this week was shaping up to be something quite different. The headwind was swirling around, and it wasn’t even 7 am yet on this Monday morning.
On auto-pilot, I began the morning routine: Turn on the coffee, empty the dishwasher, feed the cats… and I realized that I was still in my smelly workout clothes. And now I had a headache, too.
No no no no, I can’t get sick… I retreated upstairs for a grown-up Advil nd checked in on the patient who by now wanted to move downstairs. I resettled him on the couch with a pillow, cup of orange juice, his favorite stuffed guy, his blanket. I smoothed his damp hair and sighed to think how much he still looked like my baby when he closed his eyes. I kissed his forehead. My throat burned.
Yeah, I’m gonna get sick.
And so started the week of complete shut down. Other than a trip to the doctor to confirm my worst suspicions (The Flu), I pulled the plug on everything: Field Trip, Haircuts, my own doctor’s appointment. By Wednesday I was officially ill, and for the next two nights I retreated to bed almost immediately upon my husband’s arrival home for 12 hours of fever-dream-filled sleep.
We spent our week in three lumps on the couch, cocooned in our favorite blankets, drinking juice, watching way too many hours flipping between Puffin Rock and Angry Birds and, during Nap Time, maybe a West Wing episode or two. We napped and got saltine crumbs everywhere and somehow the week passed in our pod of viral isolation.
By Friday, the boys were wrestling/playing/fighting with each other again and I felt good enough to shower and find fresh sweats. We all needed space and sun by the weekend, so on Sunday I bundled them up and let them roll around in the freshly fallen snow, even though it was in the low double-digits and colder with the wind chill. The icy wind burned my lungs but I breathed it in deeply, filling my body with clear, cool air. Breathing out the old, breathing in the new. Filled with gratitude for this cold, cold, fresh air and the blinding daylight.
Monday morning I woke up early and lay in the dark silence of a sleeping house. I thought of our week of Down Time and was deeply grateful that it was an anomaly in the normal flow of our lives.
During last week’s headwind, when things were so easy, my gratitude practice should have included thanks for health, thanks for school schedules, thanks for family dinners and regular bedtimes. And during my week of tailwind challenges, there was still so much to be thankful for: The flu passed through our house quickly with no residual effects; we can afford the care of doctors and the cost of medicines and treats to help them go down; we live in a safe, warm house where we can hide until the viral storm passes.
This week I’ll march the boys off to schools, try to make it to my rescheduled appointment. But each night I’ll take a moment to thank my lucky stars that all seems right in the world again. In our little world, anyway. The wider world can fend for itself.
Hopefully, this week we’re the windshield instead of the bug. And I’ll be hoping for a bit of a tailwind to push us along. But if not, I’ll be grateful that there’s a song for that, too.
“Sometimes you're the windshield
Sometimes you're the bug
Sometimes it all comes together baby
Sometimes you're a fool in love
Sometimes you're the Louisville slugger baby
Sometimes you're the ball
Sometimes it all comes together baby
Sometimes you're going to lose it all.”
~ Dire Straits - The Bug
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