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beautifulletdownfics · 3 years

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Terrible to Meet You - A Harry Styles One Shot - Act 3, Hearts beat not fail

Harry wants to get out of the house. Alex wants to get home.

Alex meets Harry at at crossroads. Harry meets Alex on a one way street.

A coffee shop OU fic feat. lattes, lamingtons & that Great Unfathomable Feeling.

Story Page Here My Masterlist Here

Read Act 1 & 2 Here

Four Walls 'I wanna make you feel how I feel when I'm listening to love songs'

For their first date, Harry took Alex to his favourite spot at the top of Golders Hill Park, the place with the view that often derailed his outdoor runs, it was so breathtaking.

For the two weeks leading up to him asking her, Harry made an effort to occasionally visit The Daily Dose in the afternoon as well as his daily morning visit.

On those afternoons he and Alex would usually end up in the park near the cafe-—just like that first time—spending hours talking about what they were watching or reading or telling each other about friends or family members, travel adventures and failures. Once, Harry listened to Alex list her top five arguments between her flatmates, which ranged from week-long silent treatments over unstacking the dishwasher to a year-long war over missing socks. Alex liked hearing about all the things Harry loved about being back home in London indefinitely. Harry's favourite thing was when Alex got passionate and started 'swearing in Australian' as he phrased it.

When he admitted to only knowing Australian music to be the likes of Kylie Minogue, Keith Urban and Gotye, Alex vowed to educate him. Later that evening, a text came through a link to a Spotify playlist and Harry listened to nothing else for months.

Neither said it to the other, but as their hearts watched their exchanges—beady little eyes flicking back and forth like tennis spectators inside rib cages—there was a sense a story was unravelling before them Harry and Alex were powerless to control. Harry saw it all as instantly as a human could, while Alex needed half an inch of beckoning to read along with the words on their page. How perfectly two stars aligned—one coming home while the other looked to a home on the too-far horizon.

Alex hadn't ever felt comfortable with someone so quickly, and it was rare for attraction to last for her. Romantically, her endeavours in London always fell a little flat, and she generally ended up on dates with other Australians. Or Kiwis.

Harry went against what she'd experienced before; he made eye contact, and he was attentive in conversations, he remembered little things and threads between her stories that made Alex feel heard and seen. He teased when she swore too much and asked questions when he didn't know something.

So, when Harry lay the picnic rug for them on the grass, only to discover it was covered in muddy paw prints and hair, she enjoyed the opportunity to laugh at him, and to be comforted by the nerves he rarely showed as he kicked the back of the rug in haste trying to clean it off. He lay it back down and sheepishly admitted it was usually for saving his sister's dog from messing up the back seats of his car when Harry dog-sat for her.

He looked flustered and thrown, and Alex thought it was perfect.

"Do you think Paul's face is permanently going to look like that?" Harry asked, waiting for her to glance over at him before doing his best rendition of Paul's smug expression. She laughed as Harry went back to pulling out the provisions he'd brought with him; snacks and water, a book for Alex to borrow, his film camera and then finally, a small, cardboard box from a bakery in East London he was anxious to give her. Alex put down the coffees they'd brought with them from The Daily Dose (Harry was proudly calling his a long black now) as Harry handed her what he hoped would be his silver bullet.

He glanced back up at her where she was standing to the side, taking in the park around them. He was glad he seemed to have taken her to somewhere new. This was his favourite place in London. Before Harry picked her up, Alex swapped her work clothes for a blue and white dress with just two thin straps up over her shoulders. Harry couldn't keep his eyes from settling on the freckles over her collarbones, he was utterly entranced by the newly exposed skin. She only got more attractive to him, although as he nearly spilled the honey almonds everywhere, he was sure the catalogue of moments where he looked like an idiot in front of her only grew.

"It's his universe stuff again," she adjusted the sunglasses on her nose, and shut her eyes beneath her glasses, tuning into the feeling of warmth from the sun around them. She was thinking about how the heat in London felt utterly different from the summers at home. The summer she'd give anything for right now, along with the feeling of home. In summer London got warm, but it didn't swelter like she craved. It was a crisp, clean warmness that she felt safe basking in. At home, weeks of heat started to feel suffocating and heavy.

"Does he still think I'm your cosmic event?" Harry asked after a quiet moment, thinking of Paul's declaration from a few days before. The two hearts leaned in closer, Harry's holding a hand out to Alex's.

Alex hummed out a sound that could go either way, turning around to see if she could help Harry setting up at all, "He also thinks Brad and Jen are going to get back together."

Harry squinted up at her, trying to appear unbothered as he patted the rug in invitation, "Could still happen though, right?"

Taking the few steps to the edge of the rug, she looked at him, taking in the way his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth. Was he talking about the celebrity couple or … "Maybe?"

It wasn't a conversation for their first date though, so Harry diverted it, "I'm still holding out hope for Ross and Rachel, to be honest."

When they were settled in their spot on the side of the hill, the expanse of parkland in front of them, Harry stretched his legs out lazily in front of him, watching as Alex lowered herself down and crossed hers in a pretzel sit beside him. He was hyper-aware of the spot on the side of his left thigh Alex's knee lightly pressed up against. Neither of them moved away from the other.

Slowly, Alex turned her attention back to the box, "What's this?"

"Open it," Harry smiled, "I got you something."

Alex felt her cheeks heat as he watched her fold back the top to reveal what was sitting inside.

Lamingtons.

Harry brought her lamingtons.

"How did you know about these?" Alex marvelled.

"I Googled 'How to get an Australian to fall for you', and this was Step One."

Alex felt her cheeks warm further and saw Harry notice it, "That's not something you can Google, surely."

He grinned back at her, itchy on the inside somehow and tingling all over, "I think at this point, you can Google literally anything."

Alex picked one up and held it between her fingers, struggling to take in the gesture of it. As she chewed through her first, tentative bite she thought of making the small cakes in her grandmother's kitchen during school holidays. They were such a nostalgic food, one that Alex hadn't thought about for a long time. As soon as Harry opened the box though, she was back to being ten-years-old, her feet sticking to the lino of her grandparent's kitchen while all her cousins, sandy and pink from the beach, fought over the plate while being scolded for flinging coconut pieces up the walls.

She took another bite of the lamington and a sip of her tea.

"These are bloody good," Harry's voice was muffled by his mouthful of chocolate, coconut sponge.

Alex laughed at him, "They're one of my favourites."

Harry's face lit up instantly, he'd hit the mark perfectly. He took the next step tentatively, "I really like you, Alex."

"I really like you too," Alex looked up at him, finding the words surprisingly easy to conjure despite the fact hearing them from Harry drilled a shaking fear through her. Her feelings all clicked into place a little too quickly with his, or so it seemed. She didn't know how to square the want for him with her need to leave, to get home. Nothing in her was as sure as the longing for Australia.

His gaze on her was expressionless, but not in an unsettling way, Harry was merely watching her, and Alex found herself calming, and settling into the moment. In fact, she watched him right back, as if hunting for the next piece in whatever puzzle they'd started together.

An exacerbated laugh let her lips eventually, and Harry's expression changed to silently question what was going through her head.

She was grinning at him from her spot beside him, hair framing her face as the sky behind them warmed with the sunset, "Doesn't this feel a little surreal?"

Harry could put his finger on the shared feeling immediately, "Feels like we've done this before, doesn't it?"

She nodded, "What was Step Two?" Alex asked him.

&&&

It rained.

Which, in hindsight, Harry should have made provisions for. It started lightly, and he and Alex stopped talking and looked at each other in shock. She held out her palm to the sky and started laughing while they both waited to see whether it was a passing sun shower or something that would settle in.

Only a few minutes later, they were scrambling into Harry's car almost completely drenched through. Alex hadn't stopped laughing, which Harry took to be a good thing, and it was contagious because he found himself with a sore stomach from his own laughter as well.

"Jesus Christ," he breathed out, wiping the hair from his forehead.

"When it rains, it pours here, doesn't it," Alex held herself in an upright position leaning forward to avoid her warm, wet skin sticking to Harry's seats. Her arms hung in the air in front of her as Alex collected the water droplets along her arms with her fingers.

"Don't worry about the car," Harry read her manoeuvring, swallowing away the wave of lust that swept through him at the sight of her singlet stuck to her body and the damp sheen of her skin. "Are you okay?"

"Yep, I'm good," she grinned over at him, hair stuck to her temples and neck, looking invigorated by the decimation of Harry's perfectly planned afternoon, not put out by it, "You don't have an old gym towel kicking out back there, do you?" She gestured to the back seat.

Harry's face screwed up, "No, and even if I did, I would not be offering you a used gym towel!"

"Usually, that would reassure me."

"I've got clean ones at home," Harry started slowly, "It's just around the corner …"

Alex vacillated between being terrified Harry liked her just as much as she liked him, and berating herself for the feeling.

A smile was splitting his face as he waited for his response, Alex envied the ease behind his charm, "Let's go."

&&&

Alex instantly loved his house.

It was clean and warm and understated. As Harry led her, he named the room as he went. Alex tried equally to take every inch in and tattoo it to the inside of her skull, trawling it for details and lessons about Harry, while at the same time trying desperately not to appear too nosy or eager.

Her dress was wet and uncomfortably stuck skin to her as they went.

There was an awkward moment when Harry left her in his laundry with a bathrobe and instructions to take off her wet clothes while he ran upstairs to do the same. A few minutes later, (during which Alex agonised over whether to take off her underwear or not) Harry quietly knocked on the door and said Alex's name as he came in with a fresh outfit and an armful of his own for the washing machine.

When they got to the kitchen, he offered to put the kettle on, and Harry's movement prompted her to notice an appliance sitting tucked away in the corner on the bench.

"What's that!"

Harry turned around at the sound of her cry, he'd been trying to breathe through thoughts of Alex wrapped in his robe which was somehow setting off a loud (horny) alarm in him, "What? What's what?"

"That!" Alex went towards him, a look of horror on her face as she stared at the espresso machine he barely used anymore, "Harry! What the hell is this?"

"Oh," he rested his hip against the bench and crossed his arms over his chest, "That?"

Alex bumped his shoulder with the heel of her hand, "You don't need to buy coffee every day, look at this beauty."

Harry felt her thigh pressed against his. He didn't move away from the touch. Instead, he let his palm find the small of her back while she ran her fingertips over the top of the silver machine in front of them, "I think you know why I do, actually, need to buy coffee every day."

Watching her in profile, Harry saw her lips quirked in understanding, although Alex tried to hide it.

When she was quiet for a few beats too long, Harry prompted her, "Alex?"

"It's Paul's clairvoyant services, isn't it?"

"It's really not," Harry laughed, "Although it was impressive he guessed my favourite Friends character based off my coffee order."

Alex rolled her eyes, "It was a lucky guess."

Harry laughed and leaned closer to her, angling himself so they were face to face and he could hear the unsteadiness of her breathing, "I go every day to see you," he tells her simply.

"I know," she pressed her lips together and flexed her fingers out from the fists they'd been squeezed in. "I'm glad you do."

"But you can come over and use this anytime you want," Harry said of his machine. His nose was so close to Alex's it almost itched.

He knew to kiss her then as if he'd lived it before or it was a moment that happened in another life, and something in Harry remembered it. Hearts reached out for each other and fell together in the centre as Harry's lips pressed to Alex's, there was a sigh of souls as if two pieces of time clicked together perfectly.

After not even a minute of having Harry's mouth against hers, Alex felt breathless, his chest pressing into the bulkiness of the bathrobe around her. She laughed at something her body understood, but she didn't yet, leaning away from Harry to take a breath and finding his lips greedy to keep her there.

"Harry, Harry, stop," Alex finally put her hands on him, fingers curving over the top of his shoulders and squeezing lightly.

He was breathless in front of her as well, faces together and lips upturned, "Yes?"

"This is insane, we shouldn't… This … This is insane." She laughed, her head moving back and forth.

Harry's brows furrowed, but the smile stayed across the rest of his face, "What is? Why is it insane?"

Alex wasn't enjoying stopping it, "I'm sorry, I don't—Don't you think starting something is a bad idea?"

His head tilted to one side, "I happen to think it's an excellent idea, actually."

"It's insane," her heart wasn't in the protest though.

"It's not," He argued back gently, sensing Alex stepping through something in her head. Something that Harry probably needed stepping through as well, "This happens."

"It does?"

"Two people meeting by chance and both being crazy for each other from the start? Yes."

"But this year …"

He grinned, swaying and holding her eyes with his, "Just agree and say you're crazy for me, Alex."

Alex half-rolled her eyes as she accepted the kiss coming her way, chaste and sweet, "I mean, the world is ending, Harry—

—If the world is ending," he gave her a look, "Then this is the best time, this is the time to just take your shot. What have you got to lose?"

Alex couldn't force herself into the same blind faith, "Nothing's for certain anymore."

Harry's gaze softened, "Nothing except how you feel, nothing except the person right in front of you, right now."

The person in front of her wasn't someone Alex was looking for at all.

"What's going to happen?" Alex asked, sounding young and unsure. Her fingers reached for Harry's, and she linked herself to him silently.

Harry replied honestly, "I don't know, but I want to find out."

&&&

505 'Oh, when you look at me like that, my darling, what did you expect?'

She woke with Harry's hand resting heavily across her ribs.

It took Alex's brain only a few seconds before her eyes flew open, and she reached aimlessly for her phone, "Shit."

4:12am.

Shit, she thought, brain drunk on sleep as her chest lit up with panic.

Alex wasn't of right mind, and so her attempt to slip out from Harry's bed and skip across the room for her belongings was met by staunch resistance from him. Immediately at her movement, his grip tightened in his sleep, and Harry's body leaned closer to her, his arm extending further around Alex's torso as his face contorted in a frown.

"Harry," she said more urgently, his bedroom dark and still around them, "I have to go."

Those words turned the lights on in his head, and Harry's eyes opened in the darkness, "What?"

It was four weeks since the first time she had been to his house but the night before was the first time Alex stayed over on a weeknight. (Weekends had almost exclusively been spent together) She didn't remember falling asleep. Things got heated after dinner and a movie on Harry's sofa and two orgasms later exhausted, so it seems, they broke the weeknight rule.

Alex wriggled away with the slight loosening of Harry's hold, "I have to go," she repeated.

Harry raised his head up to look for the time, "No, it's 4am, Al, no."

"We fell asleep," Alex covered his wrist with her hand and pulled it up with the duvet and started to kick her legs out. "I have to go home first before work."

"Why?" Harry asked, sitting up and squinting in the darkness to see where she was moving. He didn't understand why Alex never took advantage of the fact he lived closer to her job than she did.

"I don't have work clothes here."

"Alex," his arm lunged towards where the last of her was slipping out of his reach. Harry got a hold of her elbow and gently tugged it towards him, Alex's movement stopped, and he heard a quiet sigh come from her lips, "We'll find you something to wear here."

"Harry," she protested. Wearing a man's clothes only worked in movies, Alex had boobs and hips and wasn't any part of her that wished for the hit to her self esteem trying any of his clothes would provide.

"Alex."

"You won't have anything that will work for me."

Fit, fit was the word she meant.

Harry groaned, still barely able to think straight from being woken from the deepest sleep, "It's four o'clock in the morning, Alex, what were you going to do, get an Uber across London for a t-shirt and jeans? I'll give you a shirt, and you can wear the jeans you wore yesterday."

"I need black jeans for work."

"Paul won't care, and I'll drive you too," Harry thought it pertinent to try sweetening the deal, although he thought it went without saying. His next words came out more firmly, "I'm not letting you leave at 4am, come back go bed."

Alex obeyed, but she felt betrayed by her mind for giving in mostly due to sleepiness. Harry's chest was warm, and with the duvet back around her, she lay awake with the sound of his deep breathing as he slept on. It didn't take long for tears to prickle her eyes and a thick hotness to coat the back of her throat. Here she was in the arms of a man who'd completely taken her life by surprise, yet Alex had an overwhelming yearning for a place on the other side of the world.

Every time she spoke to her sister about the baby or heard from her brother and his fiancé about their wedding, the fire inside her raged with a frustrated and fierce calling for home.

How could she be so desperate to leave while at the same time feel like she had everything to lose in going? She sensed her life had come to be ruled by two separate timers: one counting down to the moment she got on a flight back home, and the other simultaneously counting down her time with Harry. One timer ticking down to something she wanted so much, but it also signified her losing something she had no idea she would get.

Shit, she thought.

&&&

Harry thought it was funny how Alex thought Paul didn't know they were seeing each other.

When he dropped her off at work that morning, she was adamant they go early, and he was not to pull up outside The Daily Dose. Harry had a right mind to call up his mum and apologise for all the times he or his sister asked her to do something similar dropping them off to school.

Alex was wearing the jeans she wore to his house on Saturday—and again on Sunday, evidentially she wasn't bothered wearing them twice in one weekend—and a long-sleeve t-shirt of his from somewhere along the line. It was a teal green Harry had not been keen on in the slightest until he saw Alex in it. She knotted it with a hair tie at her waist to fix it being too long on her. (Harry hadn't said he told her so)

"Do you want to stay over again tonight?" He asked, the engine running as he leant to peer around the street corner towards where the cafe was, "Are you sure I can't just drive you around to the front?

She shook her head at his second question, and then answered his first, "And run into the same clothing problem again?"

Harry smirked and ran his eyes across her chest, thinking of the moments immediately after he saw her wearing his shirt and how he promptly removed it from her, "I don't recall there being any problem."

"Harry!"

"We've broken the weeknight rule now, it's moot," he bargained. Trying not to think about the fact that at any moment, she could get the phone call or email that would mean he'd lose her. Harry wanted nothing more for her than for Alex to have certainty about getting back to her family in Australia, but that didn't mean the selfish half of him wasn't greedy for all the time he could get. "We can go and pick up some stuff from your place, I'll come to pick you up at three."

"You're relentless," she was halfway out, her leg out the car door as she gathered her handbag from the floor.

Harry grinned at her, "Sure am! Now, c'mere," he curled his finger at her, leaning his elbow onto the middle console.

Alex leant forward and kissed him, for all her resistence she couldn't help her next question, "Will you come in later this morning for a coffee?"

"Of course," his palm squeezed her forearm, "Have a good day."

He sat and watched her skip down the street and around the corner through the windscreen, smiling like a fool to himself. The phone number Harry dialled next was automatic, he didn't even think twice about how early it was.

"Good morning, my wonderful, son," his mother answered warmly.

"Morning, mum," Harry checked the traffic behind him and turned out onto the road. "How are you?"

"I'm good, my dear, what a treat to hear from you first thing. What's news from London?"

His whole life, he'd heard people say 'when you know, you know'…

"I've met the woman I'm going to marry, mum."

Well, Harry knew.

&&&

Sixteen 'Time. Suddenly, we got no time'

Two weeks later, on a Tuesday, Harry received the kind of phone call he'd do well to avoid ever getting again.

It had just gone 10pm, which was late for Alex to be awake on a work night.

Harry was spread out on the armchair in his bedroom where he'd been reading for the few hours after dinner. His bed beckoned, but he was trying to get through the final few chapters of his book.

Seeing his girlfriend's name flash up on his phone brought a smile to his face.

"Hey you," he answered, sure that she'd be on the other end of the call, bored or frustrated at not being able to sleep. It immediately became clear though, from the first sound Harry heard from her down the line, that something was very wrong. He listened to a shaky intake of breath and something like a whimper from her, "Alex? What's wrong?"

She pressed her hand into her chest to steady herself, "Can I come over?"

Harry was on his feet, "Yes, yes, of course. I can come to get you, where are you?"

"I'm already in an Uber," she said quietly.

"Are you alright? What's happened," Harry urged again, racing down the stairs from the top storey of his house, turning on all the lights as he went, "Alex?"

It was silly how upset she was, Alex couldn't stop the devastation she felt though, "Jess has gone into labour."

Harry stilled, his heartbreaking for her, "Oh, Alex, babe, I'm sorry."

"Yeah," she breathed out, shakily, "I just don't want to be alone right now."

"Is everything okay, I mean, this is early, right?"

"Jess is fine," Alex relayed, "It's just early."

Fifteen minutes later, Harry got a text saying her Uber was about to turn onto his street. He left the front door wide open and went down to meet her on the curb. He watched the headlights of a dark sedan slowly creep towards him, feeling a heavy dread inside him.

She's not supposed to be here for this, he thought to himself. It wasn't fair.

He thought of the conversations they'd already had about what would happen when Alex got notice of her flight back home. It was all Harry wanted for her, despite the fact it would mean living with his heart outside his body. Despite the fact it would put everything up in the air for him. He was determined to have her in his life, just as he was determined to do nothing but blindly encourage and support her return home.

Alex emerged from the back passenger door, saying a sincere thank you to the driver.

"Hey," Harry greeted her, pleased to see an overnight bag hanging off her shoulder.

"Hi," she stepped up to him and straight into his open arms, squeezing herself as tightly as she could against his chest.

&&&

His leg was numb, but Harry wasn't in any hurry to move.

He and Alex were wedged into the corner of his sofa, her lying between his legs with her torso across his, one of his legs propped up on the back cushion while the other wrapped around her hip on the other side.

It had been a little over an hour since she arrived, and Alex was waiting for a phone call confirming the birth of her sister's baby. The two of them had been quietly chatting back and forth while a quiet album played in the background, Alex teary and struggling while Harry did everything he could do soothe her through the waiting. But there was no feeling better, there was no magical way to fix it for her. Alex was as far away as humanly possible from her family at precisely the time she wanted to be with them. Instead of meeting her niece or nephew in person, Alex would be hearing about them from a phone call.

Harry felt the vibration coming from Alex's phone at the same moment she did. She sniffed against his chest and flipped it over where the screen was lit up with an incoming FaceTime. Harry's hands fell away from where they'd been crossed over her back, he watched Alex sit up between his legs and run her sleeve under her eyes.

"It's my brother-in-law," she told him, surprising Harry when she swiped to accept the video call.

The week before, when Harry told his mum about Alex, it was the first time his family had heard of her. And in the time since, Alex admitted her siblings already knew about him. Still, Harry wasn't sure how much they knew of him, and he didn't feel the need or want to insert himself into such an important family moment. Still, Alex wasn't moving away from him or making it seem at like she wanted to be alone for the call. Harry stayed where he was, looking up at Alex and observing her interaction silently from his spot.

"Alex!" The booming voice of her sister's husband filled Harry's warm, London living room.

She held the phone out in front of her face, face splitting into a colossal smile Harry wished he could bottle, "Matt, how is she? What's going on?"

"Jess is great," Matt told her, the white hospital wall behind him giving nothing away, "She did amazing. And we've got a little boy, Alex. He's perfect, you … You can't imagine how perfect."

Tears leaked out of her eyes instantly, "A boy!"

"A little man," he confirmed joyfully, blind with the love of a new parent.

Harry squeezed Alex's hip, feeling emotional himself. Wishing like anything Alex wasn't doing this over a phone screen. She mopped up her tears with the sleeve of her jumper.

"Show me him, where is he?" Alex was desperate to see her nephew, "Where's Jess?"

"She sent me out here to call you, we don't have great reception in the room," Matt explained. "As soon as she's up and moving, she'll call you herself."

"Oh, okay," Alex tried not to sound too disappointed.

Matt knew her well enough to sense it though, "It's alright, Alex. She's desperate to speak to you, Jess wants to be the one to introduce you to him. He's not looking his best at the moment now, anyway," Matt laughed, "They're kinda misshapen when they come out."

"I'm so happy," Alex said happily. "How are you?"

"Me!" Matt laughed, "I'm great. Your sister is a bloody legend. We miss you though."

"I miss you guys, too, more than ever."

Harry looked away from her face, focusing on the black TV screen across the room.

"You'll be back soon though," Matt was upbeat.

"I can't believe you're a dad!" Alex cried out happily, "I'm going to have to start writing down all the corrupt and illegal things I've witnessed you do, so I can turn your kid against you when they're older."

Matt laughed, "Ah, you fucker. I hope they never let you back in then."

&&&

"I'm such a wanker," Harry said into the blackness of his bedroom, sometime after 1am that evening.

Alex was lying beside him, stretched out across his bed with her legs kicked out on top of the bedding. They had the window open, letting in the warm summer air. It was making Alex feel like she could be at home, in a humid Sydney night.

"Why are you a wanker, Harry?"

"All this time, I've been silently glad you missed your flight back in May… Because it meant I got to mee yout. But after tonight, I—I'm such a dick for being happy about that. You should be with your family right now."

Harry wondered how Alex's usual optimism would measure up to his confession. He'd not seen such emotion from her tonight, her ability to snap her way out of negativity up until that point had been nobel. But she was devastated when he answered his phone earlier in the night, and part of Harry was surprised she wanted to be with him at all at the moment. Surely nothing in London could feel good when she longed so desperately for somewhere else.

"You're not a wanker, Harry."

"Well, I feel like one."

"Were you supposed to be in London right now?"

"Sorry?" He asked.

"If this year had gone how you planned," Alex explained, "Would you have been in London right now? Or in May?"

He thought for a moment, "No, I would have been on tour somewhere. Wasn't going to be in London much this year."

Harry had stopped measuring life by where he was meant to be a few months before, it was driving him mad.

Alex rolled over on her side and pulled Harry's arm against her chest, "Do you want me to say I'm glad your tour got cancelled so we had the chance to meet, to make you feel better?"

"Yes, actually," Harry smiled.

"So glad you've basically lost a year of work, don't know what I would have done without my new piece of London arse."

The next sound was her squeal of surprise when Harry launched himself on top of her, burrying his scratchy cheeks into the hollow of her neck and digging his fingers into her soft sides.

&&&

The next day, Alex got the email.

Notification of Repatriation Flight - London (Heathrow) to Sydney

&&&

Silent Readers: Click here Act 4, And love blooms in hearts not fields - coming soon!

+++

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#fic: terrible to meet you #1dff #Harry fic #harry stories #harry styles fanfic

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shuahoonie · 5 years

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bed, booze, and him. [tom holland]

PAIRING: college!tom holland x reader

SUMMARY: life as a university student is already hard. sharing a flat with two college guys (one semi-decent, one all-around-annoying) just to get through paying the rent? funnily enough, even harder. it’s halloween plus midterms just ended so that means parties are never-ending and students are getting wasted. you should be out partying but you're stuck finishing a paper. how are you going to survive the night again?

WARNINGS: swearing as per usual! mentions of alcohol! slight mention of blood! friends living that domestic life! reader literally being in love with their bed and i cannot stress that enough! otp sharing a bed????? what????

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

SONG INSPO: drunk on halloween - wallows

A/N: hiya babes! another long-ass note here! thank you for all the kind words that i’ve received from ragnarok. i apologize as i’ve been slacking lately! i really tried to write whenever i had time but i’m mostly occupied with work & university. i’ll try to post something throughout the semester. [though no promises! the semester is going by way too fast and i’m trying to keep up lmao] in the meantime, enjoy this fluff that was based on a prompt that would’ve been poppin’ during 2013 lmao. also, can i just say how hard it is to figure out what type of songs tom listens to lmao.i based it off from this playlist i found on spotify! go give it a look 💛

gif credits: @tmholland

vanessa’s masterlist

“’Cause you make me feel like, I’ve been locked out of heaven.” A shirtless Tom sang loudly, looking for a top to go with his denim jeans. The basket of freshly done laundry was sitting on top of the couch when Tom started rummaging through it.

“Oi, oi.” You called out as you swatted Tom’s hands away from the laundry. “I just folded these.” You countered as you began refolding and fixing the mess that he managed to create within seconds.

“Just need a shirt,” Tom mumbled.

“Yeah, no shit.” You grunted. “The top pile is yours, dumbass.”

You didn’t even ask to do some of his laundries. He just saw you loading up yours and then started chucking some of his clothes inside of the washer. How you’ve managed to live with him, you have no clue.

“You’re welcome by the way,” You yelled sarcastically as you went back to your previous spot: the dining room table. Your notes were sprawled all over the table and sticky-notes placed on every possible page with your laptop beaming at you.

“Thank you, darling.” He grinned, showing off that pretty smile that always made everyone swoon. “Y/N, can you tell me why are you writing a paper on a Halloween night when you could be partying and drinking the night away?”

Tom was now sitting across you with his chin placed firmly on the palm of his hand, looking at your notes before turning his attention back to you.

“Look, Holland,” You sighed “not everyone is having the time of their lives after the mid-term season is over. Some of us have to catch up with papers because life wasn’t supposed to be fair.”

Tom held up his hands in surrender, “Alright darling, calm down.” He chuckled before standing up to pound on Harrison’s door again. “Mate, c’mon! You need to fucking hurry up or I’m leaving.”

You just rolled your eyes at the sound of Tom’s annoying set of knocks. “Thomas Holland, I swear to god...” You groaned.

“Y/N, darling, you know I love you but why can’t you just write in your room?” He asked.

You narrowed your eyes at him before focusing back on your notes. “I could but I don’t want to pass out on my bed with a sloppy, unfinished paper watching me sleep.” You reasoned, not looking up at him as you were busy scrawling additional information on your notes.

Tom hummed, obviously resting the argument as you’ve made your point.

You really try your hardest and make an effort not to make your room a space that you associated your works with. You always studied either in the living room or at the library. Never in your room.

You made sure that when you moved into the flat, you’d make an effort and would try to make your room as cosy as possible. You didn’t make a huge fuss regarding what you wanted. You got a skeleton-frame bookshelf, a study table, a nightstand, and a glorious bed. You had fairy lights strung up around your room as you kept the walls plain and white.

You also had to accept that your bed would put a serious dent in your budget. You bought tons of pillows that take up at least half of your bed and a duvet guaranteed to keep you warm.

You hardly meet the required amount of sleep a person needs but when you do get some zzz’s, the bed does the job and it does it well.

Your room was sacred, and both Tom and Harrison knew that.

Harrison had only been inside your room once and it was an accident. It’s not that you forbade him, it was really just a matter of respecting each other’s privacies.

Tom had been inside your room twice and none of those were accidents.

One was when he and Harrison were playing hide and seek. You were quietly watching Netflix inside your room when Tom went in to hide since he claimed that Harrison would never suspect him being inside it. He promised to do the dishes for two days if you let him hide and you did. You were satisfied with his negotiation.

The other was when he knocked on your door one night.

“Hey, do you have a bandaid?” Tom asked you as soon as you opened the door.

You raised an eyebrow at him.”Why?”

He then showed his bleeding finger which caused you to gasp. “Tom, what the hell?!”

You opened the door wider for him to come in and you quickly ran to your nightstand to grab the first-aid kit from the drawer.

“Huh,” Tom hummed and sat at the edge of your bed while you sat on the floor, gently grabbed his hand to look at his wound. “Your room is oddly inviting.” He commented.

You looked at him oddly. “I beg your pardon?”

“Hm?” You were still staring at Tom, waiting to elaborate on what he said. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.” Tom quickly apologized as he just realized what he just said.

“Please, Tom, elaborate before it becomes awkward in the next sixty seconds.” You said almost too pleadingly as you started to clean his wound.

Tom chuckled. “What I meant was your room is dangerously comfortable.” He said as he plopped himself down causing you to hiss at him.

“Hold still, you dickhead.”

“Seriously darling, if this was my bed, I’d never get up,” Tom mumbles happily as he tried to make himself comfortable, lying in your bed.

“What were you doing that involved you and a bleeding finger anyway?” You asked.

“I was trying to cook dinner.” He answers almost shyly.

You were quiet for a moment, causing Tom to tilt his head over in your direction and look at you. You had your brow raised and disbelief was painted all over your face.

You, Harrison, and Tom at least try to do some cooking in the means of saving money. It was a pretty smart way to get through their university life without always being on the brink of getting broke. You and Harrison usually took turns in making dinner while Tom was always in charge of breakfast, seeing that he was always the first one to wake up early.

This set up was also made because Harrison claims that he doesn’t trust Tom with a knife.

“I was trying to prove to Harrison that I can make pasta without getting myself wounded in some type of way!” Tom said defensively.

Harrison was right.

You rolled your eyes playfully at him and finished up cleaning his wound. You rummaged through your kit, looking for a bandaid when you found a certain one that your friend gave you as a ‘gift’ from their trip to Japan. “There, all done.” You said after wrapping his finger with bandaid.

“Thanks, Y/N. Sorry to-” Tom stopped himself when he raised his hand to look at his newly-treated wound and saw the pink, Hello Kitty bandaid that was staring back at him.

You pulled a tight smile. “Make sure you change your bandaids every day! I have more if you need them.” You said innocently at him.

“Oh, darling,” He stood up to cup your face “I’ll make sure to knock on your door every day so you don’t worry too much.” He replied as he gently removes his hand from the side of your face.

You dropped your smile and pushed Tom towards the door. “Bye, Tom.”

Now that you’ve thought about it, this whole “it’s Halloween! take a break at least!” thing only makes you want to leave all of your work behind and just crawl up to bed.

Harrison finally stepped out of his room, looking like he’s finally ready to intoxicate himself with alcohol and release himself from the stress this semester has caused him.

“Fucking finally, mate” Tom let out a loud, exaggerated sigh as Harrison rolled his eyes at his impatient friend. “C’mon then, let’s go!”

“Can you calm down, mate?!” Harrison said as he made his way towards the kitchen. “You don’t even have a shirt on!”

Jesus Christ, why are they always like this? You thought to yourself as you watched the two bicker in front of you.

It’s always like this. The two would always have a tiny bicker every time they have to do something together. You always reasoned why on earth would they even have to do it together when they always end up bickering. They claimed that it’s all for fun and adds dynamic to their friendship.

Dynamic my ass. Easy for them to say, they’re not the ones who have to endure two annoying dumbasses.

“Could you be any louder?” You said in annoyance as you looked up from your laptop. You were about to start writing your paper, that’s due tomorrow mind you, and all you have is a sloppy mess.

For crying out loud, who even gives out papers and assigns the due date the day after Halloween when they know students are drinking themselves shitless that night? Oh, that’s right, university professors do.

And these two? Not helping. At all.

“Yes? Is there something you’d like to add, darling?” Tom asked teasingly. Not without with a huge smirk plastered on his face.

God, he’s ten times more annoying when he’s fueled by his impatientness and thirst for alcohol.

“For fuck's sake” You grunted, bringing both your hands and ran them up in your face, obviously irritated. You’ve been roommates with Tom and Harrison for almost three years and until now, Tom can still find a new way to irk you.

Tom chuckled at the sight of you, dreading to pull your hair out due to the overflowing irritation.

You stood up from the table and grabbed a black shirt from Tom’s pile of fresh laundry, then chucked it at him. “There, put that on and leave.”

“Hm,” Tom looked at the black shirt that you shoved “Sure this is okay?”

“Yes, yes, now go. I can’t work with you two here.” You waved dismissively at them. “Especially you, Holland.” You pointed out as you looked at Tom pointedly.

“Is it because you still have a crush on me, darling?” He teased, causing Harrison to chuckle.

You narrowed your eyes at Harrison, who just grinned at your frustration. “That was a long time ago, ‘ya dickhead!” You groaned, slightly embarrassed that he still remembered that time. Curse the day you and a couple of friends went out for a drink.

You had one too many drinks when Liz, a friend from your literature class, asked you a question. “Okay, I know you said that you’re friends-”

“Oh, no,” You groaned. “I know where this is going.”

“Y/N!”

“Okay, fine!” You raised your hands in defeat. “Shoot.” Fuck it, right?!

“Bed, wed, behead Luke, Josh, and Tom,” Liz stated with a teasing smile on her face.

“Oh, the choices are horrible!” You exclaimed with an awful amount of concern for such a flimsy game. “Awfully considerate of you to use this version instead of fuck, marry, kill, by the way.” You added as you took another sip from your margarita.

“Anyway, I’d kill Luke. After lashing out because I wasn’t comfortable giving out my number? Kill Luke, that easy.” You explained which earned a handful of approving nods.

“I guess I’d have to fuck Josh,” You answered as you were still weighing the pros and cons of your answers as if they really matter. “I mean I’d only have to do it once anyway.”

It was when you finished your drink when you realized what was left out of the options. “Wait,” You yelled quite obnoxiously. “I don’t want to marry Tom!”

“Okay, but you have to admit that Tom’s cute.” Liz pointed out.

“I mean,” You were flustered for a moment, “Y-yeah. Tom’ is good-looking, I’d be lying if I said otherwise but that doesn’t mean I’d like to marry him!”

“You’re taking this game way too seriously, love,” Zoë commented with an amused look on her face.

“Is that so, Y/N?” A curious voice suddenly popped up from behind you and saw Harrison with a smirk on his face.

Your friends said their quick hello’s and Haz politely returned them as well as asking how are they doing.

“God, can I have one night without seeing both of my roommates?” You groaned and buried your face in the palm of your hands.

“Well, I can grant you half of that wish,” Harrison commented before he asked the bartender for another pint of beer. “Tom’s stuck in the library, cramming for his Physics exam.”

“I told him to start his revisions early. That exam is no joke.”

“Yeah, and the bloody idiot didn’t listen,” Harrison grumbled. “But speaking of the idiot, you were saying you didn’t want to marry Tom? I didn’t even know he proposed.” He teased. “I didn’t even know you had a crush on him!”

“I will kill you in your sleep, Harrison.”

“Hey, I was just asking why you didn’t want to marry Tom.” He defended himself with a grin, obviously enjoying how flustered you were.

“What are you even doing here, Haz?” You asked, plain exasperated.

“Well, Y/N, I need to have a social life too.” Haz answered.

“Can you have a social life somewhere else then?”

“Nah,” He dismissed you and out of sheer reflex, you smacked the back of his head. “Oi!” He yelped in pain.

You and Harrison were pretty close and you two established that early when you three started living together. You two definitely bickered like siblings and everyone knew that. Tom never felt out of place with you and Harrison as you three collectively found ways to annoy one another.

“It’s okay, YN,” Zoë tried to console you for a moment before adding, “Harrison can stay.”

“You’re just saying that because you have a crush on him,” You grumbled before taking a sip of your drink.

You suddenly felt a stinging pain from your arm and saw Zoë glaring at you, cheeks blushing. “Oi, what is wrong with you?” You cried while rubbing your arm, trying to disperse the pain.

“I don’t see why you’re so deeply affected with the idea of marrying Tom,” Liz commented as she turned to you. “The two of you already fight like a married couple anyway.”

“I still would’ve loved to hear it from you, darling,” Tom commented as Harrison was fighting off a laugh behind him.

“Keep dreaming, Holland.” was all you said before turning back your attention to your laptop.

“We’re heading out for Jackson’s party, ‘mkay?” Tom called out, stuffing his phone and wallet in his back pockets.

“Mhm… sure… as if I care…” You mumbled as you started typing your essay, with your draft as reference. You were definitely annoyed at how you were spending your free time.

“I’m just saying!” Tom remarked in his defense “I just thought that maybe you’d wait up so…”

You tore your attention from your paper and looked into Tom’s eyes and said bluntly, “I don’t know how you do it, but you never fail to surprise me with that ego of yours.”

“I’ll miss you too, darling. Don’t stay up too late.” He winked then left.

"We’ll see you later, Y/N. Lock the doors!” Harrison said before waving you goodbye.

You sat up from your bed, sneering at the loud banging noise coming from outside of your door. You blindly looked for your phone and as you found it, you checked the time and it says 3:21 AM.

“For fuck's sake," You grunted as you stood up and marched your way to the living room. You’ve only been asleep for less than two hours and you were ready to kill whoever’s outside your door.

As you opened your door, you saw a very drunk Tom who looked like an absolute mess and will probably regret everything the next time wakes up. You leaned into your doorframe, as you watched Tom successfully maneuvered his way around the living room.

“Tom, it’s past 3 AM.” You groaned in exhaustion as you watched Tom, clearly drunk out of his mind, trying to keep his balance.

“Y/N, baby,” Tom greeted you, “‘ve missed you.” His speech was beginning to slur as he engulfed you in a hug.

“Holland, you reek of alcohol.” You scrunched your nose in disgust and wriggled your way out of his hug. “Come, I’ll take you to your room.”

“Nooo,” He drawled out as he dragged his footsteps inside your room, lazily walking to your bed.

“Tom, you can’t sleep here.” You argued as he still didn’t budge and just flopped on the top of your bed.

“Why not?” He murmured, clearly out of it.

“Because that’s my bed and you have your own, dumbass.” You replied as you threw your head back, frustrated. At this point, you knew it was hopeless. This was the most you’ll be getting out of him.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“What?”

“I really, really like your bed,” Tom confessed which only made you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I figured.” You commented as you began pulling out the sleeping bag stashed in the back of your closet. You often wondered why you bought this as you were never the type who camps for pure pleasure.

I guess I finally have the reason to use this now, you thought to yourself. You grabbed a couple of pillows and the plush blanket you’ve always adored then began setting them up on the floor where you will be sleeping.

You stepped outside for a minute to grab a glassful of water and some aspirin for Tom before placing them on top of your nightstand. You also stopped inside Tom’s room for a quick minute to grab some clothes for him to change in.

You didn’t know why you were doing all of it but there you were, standing in front of Tom’s closet, looking for a shirt and some sweatpants that he could change in.

After you’ve managed to grab Tom’s clothes, you popped back into your room only to find Tom completely sprawled on top of your bed. You quietly approached him and gently dabbed the damp towel (that you also prepared before coming back to your room) all over his face.

Brushing Tom’s hair away from his face, you couldn’t help but stare at him in complete awe. Until now you were still asking yourself why you’re going the extra mile for him.

Maybe you were trying to convince yourself that you’re trying to be a good friend and should be looking after him.

Maybe you were trying to convince yourself that you’re trying to be a better person and through this, you wouldn’t feel a sense of guilt if you let Tom pass out in the living room.

Or maybe those pesky little feelings that you tried to suppress were emerging once again. You did have a little crush on Tom but there was no way in hell that you’d ever admit that nor does anyone have to know.

Tom wasn’t bad. Yeah, maybe he does annoy you out of sheer pleasure but the guy wasn’t the absolute worst.

Tom always gets you coffee when he knows he went over the line and pissed you off.

He’d always leave little notes beside them too, saying “sorry if I was being an ass last night :(” or maybe something like “coffee in exchange for letting you sleep in a bad mood”.

You always said they were cheesy but you secretly adored them. You always kept the notes too, you were a sucker for those sentiments.

You pushed your thoughts in the back of your mind and gently tapped Tom’s shoulder, asking him to wake up.

He eventually obliged, half-asleep as he sat up from your bed.

“You need to change into more comfortable clothes, Tom.”

“M-don’t want to,” He murmured as he rested his head on the headboard.

“You are literally covered in sweat, dumbass.” You argued, “Also, I don’t want my sheets to smell like sweat and alcohol.”

Tom sighed as he took off his shirt and changed into clean ones. He was about to take off his pants when he caught you watching at him.

You quickly turned your attention away from him, your cheeks definitely burning from embarrassment. You didn’t even know why you were watching him in the first place.

You always see Tom shirtless so that wasn’t a huge deal, and there are a couple of instances where you saw Tom walking around the flat with just his boxers on.

Why you were suddenly embarrassed with an almost half-naked Tom, especially when this was not a foreign sight for you, only confused you.

Maybe, I’m the one who's drunk.

"Are you decent?” You asked Tom, afraid to turn around as the embarrassment was still running through your veins.

You heard a soft chuckle from Tom and he murmured “yeah” in response.

Tom laid back and took the spot at the edge of your bed as you took the sleeping bag that you prepared a little while ago.

You quickly peeped at your phone to check the time and it was almost 4 o’clock in the morning. You were wide awake now.

“Hey, Y/N?” Tom suddenly called out.

“Hmm?” You hummed in response.

“Did you know that flamingos bend their legs at their ankles and not at their knees?”

“I-uh,” You were lost for words, either at this fact or due to the fact that Tom even knows this. “What?”

“Well technically, the joints that we see on their legs are their ankles while their knees are much closer to their body and are hidden under their feathers.”

“How do you even know this?”

“I usually do a deep-dive on the web when I can’t sleep.”

“Oddly enough, that makes sense.” You confessed, chuckling.

There was a small period of silence and you suddenly wondered where Harrison was.

“Hey, do you know what happened to Harrison?” You asked out loud.

“No,” He murmured. “Why are you suddenly looking for him?”

“Well you two left together and only one of you made it home, so I think I get worried for that idiot right?”

“He probably crashed at Jackson’s or he’s hooking up with someone.” Tom answered. “I told him I was heading home and he said he wanted to stay so that’s my best guess.”

You picked up your phone and tried calling Harrison but he wasn’t picking up.

You furrowed your eyebrows and sent a text to Haz saying, “text me if you’re alive. need to know if we need to clear out your room. jk. pls text back.” followed by a “ also pls don’t do something remotely embarrassing. text back, haz. i mean it.”

The room fell into silence once again and it made you a bit uncomfortable.

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you mind if I play some music while sleeping?”

“Go ahead, it’s your room.” He answered.

You scoffed, “Yeah, thanks for reminding me.”

“Anytime, babe.”

You connected your phone to the bluetooth speakers and put your playlist on shuffle. Soon enough Cigarettes After Sex’s song “K.”, started playing softly in the background.

You shuffled across your ‘bed’, trying to find a more comfortable sleeping position.

“This is going to kill my back when I wake up.” You mumbled to yourself.

“Sleep with me then,” You heard Tom suggest.

“I beg your pardon?!” You were appalled.

“Wha- Oh! Not like that, babe.” He quickly took it all back, trying to recover from another layer of embarrassment he just cost the two of you. “I mean yeah, sure, why not.” He joked.

“Ha ha, very funny Holland.” You said sarcastically.

“What I meant was lay down next to me. Here. In the space next to me.” He cleared out.

“I think I’ll be fine here.” You answered. “I mean what’s a day of pain right?”

“Y/N, I think we’re two grown adults. We’re just sleeping together.” Tom tried to explain which only made you wince even more.

“Tom, you really have to clarify things well.”

“We’re two grown adults, sleeping in one bed. Nothing malicious there.” He did his best to do it properly. “Besides, are you really passing up the opportunity to sleep on your outrageously comfortable bed?”

You sat up straight and shot daggers at him. “Screw you, Holland. You should be sleeping on your own bed.”

He closed his eyes and said, “’m too tired to move.”

You sighed, grabbing a few pillows and your blanket. You made your way to the empty spot of the bed, right beside Tom. “Don’t try anything, Holland.” You warned him and laid right next to him.

With his eyes still closed, he chuckled and said, “I promise, darling.”

“I’m serious, Tom. If you try something, I swear I will curse you and the next three generations of your family to fail.”

“I’ll marry you then.” retorted Tom.

Flushed from what Tom just said, you grabbed your phone to divert your attention to something else. It was then when you noticed a text message from Harrison saying, “i’m fine. crashed at jack’s lol. it’s not me you should be worried about, it’s tom. the blabbering drunk might finally confess he likes you haha.”

You quickly turned off your phone as it only left you even more flustered. Right then, you felt Tom tug your hand only to interlace his fingers with yours.

You turned to face him but he had his eyes closed. You decided to just close your eyes and force yourself to sleep.

You were slowly falling into a deep slumber when you heard soft mumbles from Tom. “Goodnight, Y/N. Going to sleep with my heart racing is harder than I thought. The things you do to me, darling, you’ll never know.”

hiya again babes, please leave some feedback!!!! whether you think it’s shit or just plain horrible! or maybe you liked it for some reason?? lmao any feedback is nice.

#tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland blurb #tom holland angst #tom holland imagines #tom holland x y/n #tom holland au #tom holland and reader #tom holland and you #tom holland x you #the girl writes i guess #txmhoellandwrites

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soundofseventeen · 4 years

Text

13 Days of Christmas (Chwe Hansol)

A special thank you to @pointless-verses and @notprincesscharming for loving me the way they do and accepting who I am. I wouldn’t have written this without them. Some of us are Vernon and some of us are Y/N and that’s okay. Merry Christmas (Eve) everyone.

Word count: 2682

“Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright,” you sang softly as you hung the ornaments on your tree. You continued humming it as you decorated your apartment. Occasionally, one of the people that lived in the building would join in with you. You loved Christmas; you loved the holiday; you especially loved the meaning behind it. For many others, it meant gifts, shopping, food for days and more money spent in one month than in the entire year. For you, it was the reminder that Jesus Christ was born.

Jesus, church, and religion had been a big part of your life as a child and as you grew up, your faith in Him never wavered despite the obstacles. You didn’t tell people this part because over time, they had become less devoted and more critical of those who still believed, especially now that questioning everything had become a thing. You were familiar with almost everyone who disrespected your beliefs, and a lot of the time it felt like they targeted you personally. You knew there were bad Christians (and Catholics) who condemned those who were different, but you also knew that the self-righteous pricks who ironically had the holier-than-thou aura were no better, especially when it was just those who followed the trend. You felt lost for a time, but after joining groups and speaking to the pastors about your problem, you left somewhat reassured that as long as you had your faith, you could deal with the problem. Plus, your friends and family accepted you as you were, so nothing else mattered.

Sure you still didn’t know how people lived without God in their lives or how some could be angry at him, but you also didn’t know how people could use God as an excuse to treat others the way they did. Along the way in your self-discovery of living your life as God intended, you met those who had the same intentions as you did, some praising the Lord and some who merely smiled at the statement.

Among those you befriended in that category was Hansol Vernon Chwe. Hansol, from what you knew, had a golden heart with a soul to match perfectly. You met him one day while waiting in line for a coffee. He complimented the buttons on your backpack and even showed you the same ones he had. You noticed the book he had in his hand since it had been one you were curious about, so you sat down at one of the tables and discussed all the books you’d read and wrote down his recommendations. He was a lot on the goofy side so it was refreshing to see that because, at your age, everyone was stressed over something. (Not that it was a bad thing, but it was a nice change.) He was a little awkward once you started hanging out but once he got comfortable with you, he opened up a lot about his life.

It wasn’t the happiest but he managed to overcome a lot of his obstacles and you opened up to him. He was a fairly happy soul so when you spent time together, it felt cathartic. You listened to each other’s problems about whatever happened and just enjoyed each other’s company.

You did have suspicions that the idea of religion made him uncomfortable, but every time you asked him about it, he’d just wave it off and let you continue until the topic could be appropriately changed and you’d eventually forget about it.

But you noticed the closer to the holidays he got, the gloomier he got. You could see the storm in his eyes whenever you passed the green and red colored shops with Santa Claus decorating the windows and his mood soured every time he saw people buying gifts, and you realized he never celebrated the joyous holiday with someone important to him, so on a chilly and windy afternoon, you set off to find something for him and you’d wait until Christmas Eve to give it to him once you finished setting up the nativity set on the coffee table, and then you’d invite him over to give him said gift: a leather jacket and a new beanie to match it.

There was a knock on the door just as you finished putting the three wise men on the table and you yelled a, “Come in,” while you set up the farm animals around the little area. You continued your humming, setting up the nativity set as you pleased. “Hi Hansol!” you greeted him cheerily.

“Oh...hey,” he said sitting down next to you. He threw his backpack on the couch. “What are you doing?”

“Setting this up. It’s almost Christmas so I wanted to put this up. It’s the most important thing to me.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that. So, uh, you said you wanted to see me?” He tried not to look on the table, the discomfort setting in, the more he avoided it.

You nodded, finally standing up and stretching. You pretended not to notice how he eyed the place skeptically, especially when you walked to the Christmas tree. “I got you something.”

“Why?” His eyes narrowed quickly, the slow boiling anger making you uneasy. Maybe you should’ve brought it up a little later? Maybe after he tried some food from a new recipe you made?

“Because you’re my friend and you’re special to me and all my special friends get gifts.” You smiled at him nonetheless.

“I don’t celebrate Christmas,” he said simply. “It’s stupid.” The off switch hit and he shut down, the way it normally did when he didn’t know what else to do.

You tried not to show the disappointment and hurt on your face, but you didn’t know how to make words come out of your mouth either. The present in your hands felt heavy suddenly and you felt like a fool. “Oh,” you finally said.

“Yeah...holidays don’t deserve to be celebrated when it’s a shit storm all year ‘round,” the sarcasm and bitterness lacing through the happy tone. “You got kids dying, homeless people with no place to go, and when your life is torn apart like mine, well, you get used to it. I gotta go.”

“But you just got here!” you protested, your voice trying not to break.

“And I have somewhere else to be now.”

“Hansol, if I offended you, I’m sorry-”

“You wouldn’t understand. I didn’t mean to ruin this for you.” He patted your shoulder and walked out quietly.

The moment he had found out about your religious side, Hansol had known it was gonna be difficult. He often stayed away with people who claimed to have a relationship with God because whenever he told someone that he wasn’t sure if God even existed, it was like a switch flipped. They were usually offended, yes, but then they forced (or tried to force) their beliefs down his throat and just gave him the cold shoulder when they realized they couldn’t convert him. He had been through so much in his life and he had stopped trying to defend his reasons behind it. He was tired of being judged for it, and he hated trying to prove that he was still a good person because he thought it could still be possible. It made him angry; it confused him and it even saddened him a little because he never knew where to turn to.

When he met you though, he thought you were just like him: a lost little soul, hoping to find something, anything. But as he got to know you, and you spoke of God so highly, he couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Another one for the books.

He liked you a lot though, and despite the barrier, he never felt like you forced it on him. Then again, he waived the subject of God and Christianity and everything it came with whenever his discomfort became too much. He never meant to push you away like he did at your place but it felt like he was backed into a corner. He made his friends (whatever was left of them, that is) and family swear they wouldn’t buy him anything in relation to the holiday in the past because he knew the reason behind Christmas and he couldn’t get on board with that. He would be something of a hypocrite if he celebrated it, so he chose not to.

He could taste the bile on his tongue from overthinking and he needed to get away from his head. He wanted to call you, but he knew he made you cry the moment he left your house that day. Couldn’t he be your friend and still choose not to believe? Or did you only wanna become his friend because you a.) thought that he was religious or b.) knew he wasn’t and you thought you could change his ways? Neither seemed likely though. You never gave him a reason to believe otherwise

He turned on the radio to hopefully drive his thoughts away, but the moment he heard the song, you automatically came to his mind and a slow smile crossed his face. He remembered you telling him it was your favorite Christmas song over lunch one day when it came on the speakers. You had hummed it and tapped your fingers to it. He liked seeing you happy like that; all of his friends deserved it, especially you. You made him feel welcome, although he never told you upright his confusion with religion. Some days he didn’t believe; sometimes he did, but mostly, he was unsure. He was afraid it’d hurt you and he didn’t want that.

It was a nice song, he decided right now that he was paying attention to it. Would he add it to his Spotify playlist? No, but that was okay. He could appreciate it because you were important to him..

“‘Bye everyone! Thank you for coming! And thank you for the gifts!” You weren’t sure of how much hot chocolate you ingested but you were sure it mixed into your bloodstream. You felt full and content. You invited a few of your loved ones over for breakfast and you all exchanged gifts. The best part of it all was being together, as it should be. There were hugs everywhere, laughter and even a few tears from laughing too hard, all music to your ears. You never felt like you belonged more than in moments like this. God had blessed you with the best people in your life and you’d be going to church later on today to express your gratitude because you couldn’t ask for more (except maybe some concert tickets, but that wasn’t the point here.)

Your gaze landed on Hansol’s unopened gifts and you were overcome with many emotions, unsure of which ones were stronger. You could pinpoint the hurt because of what he said to you and how he said it; the sadness because of the outright rejection and refusal of opening them; embarrassment for not asking him if he wanted something in the first place; anger for not handling the situation the way you wanted to; disappointment because you had at least hoped he would’ve opened them before saying something; and even the hope he’d come to at least apologize. You said a silent prayer that wherever he’d be, he’d try to make the most of this sacred day.

You didn’t know what you’d do with the presents but you couldn’t return them...or give them away. You bought them specifically for him and neither option felt right. Maybe you’d just use them as a birthday gift; it was a couple months away, after all. It’d save you the hassle of shopping for him twice and at least you only had DK to worry about.

The knocking on your door brought you back but you laughed at yourself for being scared. You felt both giddy and afraid as you opened it and Hansol stood there shyly, holding a makeshift white flag as peace. “Hi, can I come in?”

You nodded quickly and let him in, curiously staring at the guitar his hand. “Sorry about the mess. I was just about to clean up. Did you forget something here the other day?”

“No, but I know I said some things that weren’t right and they probably hurt you. This is embarrassing because I hate singing and I hate Christmas but I didn’t know what else to get you so I learned this for you.” He strummed the strings a few times to make sure they were in tune and a moment later, covered “Silent Night” just for you before he could turn around and walk away. He missed a few words and fumbled a few times but you were endeared nonetheless and he hadn’t even finished when you were bawling your eyes out.

“Hansol, I-” you wiped your eyes with the sleeves of your pajama shirt at a loss for words.

“I’m not religious,” he started off after he saw you couldn’t complete your sentence, “I haven’t willingly stepped foot in a church in years and I don’t plan to anytime soon. I don’t like today for that same reason and because everyone in my family wants to erase everything that goes on throughout the year too. I’m not sure I even believe in God anymore because I don’t know how someone can be this cruel sometimes. But, I shouldn’t have disrespected you or your beliefs because of my problems. And for that, I’m sorry.”

“Hansol,” you tried again, but you didn’t know what to say. You’d met people who didn’t believe in God, but you never knew what to say when they told you so. This time it wasn’t any different. “You’re still the same person regardless of that. If I had known sooner, then-”

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to judge me or try to change me. You’re one of my closest friends and if I lost you because of that...I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Silly boy, only you can decide if you wanna believe. You’re in my life because you’re a good person and honestly, that doesn’t define who you are. I’m not gonna drag you to church every weekend hoping you’ll change your mind and I’m not gonna buy you a bible either. It doesn’t matter if next year you wanna try it. It doesn’t matter if you wanna believe in God, or Allah, or Olofi, or not. But please, at least give me a warning if you’re not comfortable with gifts or anything.” You sniffled again and he pulled you close to him. “I don’t even know what to do with them. You made me feel so bad.”

“I’m sorry. You bought them with good intentions, and I see that now. Would you mind if I opened it?”

“Are you gonna get mad again?”

“No, I’m gonna treasure them for as long as I can because you put so much thought into them.” He lowered his voice, still fighting his discomfort. “Thank you for not hating me. You’re one of the first people I know who’s accepted me.” He choked a little on that last part and it was your turn to comfort him, understanding his pain. You stayed like that for a moment longer and he unwrapped his presents, thanking you more times than you could count for the jacket.

“Hey, isn’t something missing from your thing?” He said just as he was getting ready to leave.

“Oh yeah! The baby Jesus! This is for him after all.” You walked to the TV to grab the minuscule figurine. “Would you like to put him on his bed?”

Although a little uncomfortable, he nodded because he knew it’d mean a lot to you. With trembling fingers, he gently laid him down as heard you singing, taking his hand in yours to give him the strength, and for that he was grateful.

“Silent night….holy night….”

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fourdaysofrain · 5 years

Text

In a Flash

Summary: Peter sees a familiar face during patrol.

(Post-Far From Home, ignores the end credits scene)

Read on AO3

Peter Parker was standing in a cemetery.

It’s not the first cemetery he’s been in. He’s had experience with grieving, of course. His Aunt May and Uncle Ben helped him process the death of his parents, and then his Aunt May alone helped him with the death of his uncle. Even before that, he was brought to the funeral of his great-grandfather before he was old enough to realize why everyone was crying.

But now, he stood in front of the grave of Tony Stark. It was bare, with dirt that hadn’t yet begun to grow grass. Peter slowly leaned down and placed a single white carnation against the gravestone.

“Mr. Stark, I–” his words caught in his throat, countless unsaid feelings floating just out of his reach.

Peter kept taking slow, deep breaths. He didn’t plan anything to say, he had hoped it would come to him in the moment. He settled for just looking solidly at the dirt, too afraid of the finality of seeing the name engraved in the stone.

He watched as a small spider slowly stalked through the ground. Another unearthed right behind it. And another to the left. Peter tried to shift backward, but his shoes were glued to the earth beneath him. He couldn’t even look away.

He saw the dirt shift almost imperceptibly. And then it continued to shake, a mound forming in the center.

A gauntlet burst out, one that was too achingly familiar. Peter wanted to move, to run away, to do anything, but he couldn’t even blink. He was trapped to watch as the rotting carcass of Tony Stark pulled itself out of its grave and grabbed him, pulling him down into the earth.

If you were good enough, maybe Tony would still be alive.

Peter slowly slid his window open, not wanting to disturb Ned, who was still snoring loudly underneath a pile of blankets. They had yet another sleepover last night, both still too afraid to sleep comfortably alone. They both passed out to Ned’s laptop almost judgmentally showing the “Are you still watching?” screen from Netflix.

Peter had nightmares about Tony’s death even before he sacrificed himself to save the world. But after Mysterio, they were happening more and more frequently. Thankfully, he was able to wake up without screaming now. He cringed as he remembered the first couple weeks when he would feel Aunt May softly rubbing his back as he sobbed himself awake. But tonight, he just needed some fresh air to calm down. Sticking to the outside of his bedroom, he double-checked that his suit was sealed correctly, and then put his mask on.

“Hey Karen, how’s your night going?” he asked casually.

“Good evening Peter. Your heart rate seems to be elevated, is there anything I can do to help?” Karen’s voice cut cleanly through the dull sounds of the city at night.

“Uh- no, no I don’t think so, I just need to swing around for a while. You know.”

“Of course, Peter. Would you like me to play your patrol playlist on Spotify?”

“No, that’s okay, Karen. Thank you though.”

“I’m here if you need me.”

Peter took a deep breath before jumping from the wall and falling to the ground below. He felt the rush of wind around him and waited as long as he could before shooting a web and pulling himself back into the air.

He tried not to think about when Karen would offer to call Mr. Stark on nights like these. She would read his fast heartbeat, figure out he had a nightmare, and Mr. Stark would call him with a lazy excuse about needing his opinion on a project. They would end up talking for so long he’d forget what the nightmare was even about. Or, Mr. Stark would get an alert that he was using the suit past curfew, and he’d get an angry phone call on his display. The current lack of supervision was almost oppressive, some nights. Aunt May was always willing to help him, but she had no way of knowing what he did after he went to bed each night. Happy kept in touch with him, of course, and he was able to get some information from the suit, but he didn’t even know the half of all the protocols Mr. Stark made. Peter himself was only barely starting to scratch the surface.

The first time he went out patrolling after Mr. Stark di- after the blip, he got stabbed. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, he just needed to get to the MedBay. Karen had innocently asked if he wanted to call Mr. Stark, and he broke. He was barely able to tell her to call Happy instead. The next day, he went through her code with Ned and removed any reference to him. The next month, he put it all back in, and slowly struggled through telling her the story of how he saved the universe.

The night progressed slowly. He swung from building to building, no end destination in mind. The beating of his heart eventually slowed to match the steady rhythm of his swings. He finally ended up on the roof of a nearby building to take a break before going back home. He wasn’t keeping track of how much time had passed since he left, and he wanted to get home before sunrise.

The hair on his arms stood up, and he got a short burst of adrenaline. Something was wrong.

“Karen, what’s happening?” he whispered.

“There seems to be a mugging happening in the alleyway to your right,” Karen responded.

“Thanks, Karen. I’ll check it out.”

He slowly peered over the edge of the building to get a read on the mugging. There were three men surrounding someone who was cowering against the end of the alleyway. He couldn’t see any weapons out, but that didn’t mean there were none.

“Hey Karen, activate enhanced reconnaissance mode. Let me hear what they’re saying.”

“On it, Peter.”

A small rectangle appears over them in his mask’s display and magnifies his vision.

“C’mon kid, just fork it over and no one gets hurt,” a gruff voice said.

The reply consisted of mostly whimpers and heavy breathing.

“Dude, if he’s not gonna just give it to us, we’re gonna have to take it,” a second voice grunted.

Peter decided this was a good time to jump in. He dropped slowly down to the ground, making sure to remember Nat’s advice about landing on his toes so he didn’t alert the muggers.

“Thing like that must cost a pretty penny, eh? Not like your daddy can’t just get you a new one, with how much you were runnin’ your mouth back there,” the third voice finally chimed in, a small flick of his wrist revealing a switchblade.

Peter took one more slow, deep breath before intervening, putting on the Spider-Man persona like an old leather glove.

“Hey, guys! Looks like you’re all having fun, but unfortunately, I gotta break this up.”

When the three criminals turned around, Peter shot a web at the third’s hand that held the blade to pin it to the wall. His hand instinctively opened, and the switchblade fell to the ground. One of the remaining two dove for it.

“Oh no you don’t,” Peter shot a web over the knife to make it unreachable, “don’t you guys have more than one of these? That’s poor planning on your part.” He shot a web across the torso of the third, who was trying to pry his hand free. He was pinned to the side of the alleyway. Now he just had two to worry about.

They were both moving towards him aggressively. He threw a web grenade at the side of the alley, and when it detonated it threw the two of them to the opposite side. All three of them were stuck to the wall in some way or another. He could handle petty criminals like these in his sleep. He mumbled a quick reminder to Karen to alert the local precinct and got a short confirmation in return.

The person at the end of the alley was still curled up in the fetal position. All he could see was the top of a very gelled hairstyle. He shot a quick web over each of the mugger’s mouths before starting to approach the victim.

“Hey guy, or uh- person! Don’t worry, these things happen all the time. Are you hurt? Do you need help?” Peter could hear a staccato rhythm of quick, sharp breaths underneath the muffled yelling of the muggers as he got closer. He slowly crouched and put a hand on the person’s shoulder, when they yelped and started to run out of the alleyway. Peter froze for a beat and then lightly jogged after them.

“Hey! Hey, you can’t just run away! I know it’s kind of scary but I want to make sure you’re okay!” Peter called as he caught up. It didn’t take long, but they were able to make it out of the alleyway. At least he didn’t have to keep looking at the wild eyes of the three men webbed to the walls. Peter grabbed their shoulder again and they whipped around.

“Hey, do you have anyone I can call for–” he froze. It was Flash. He just saved his high school bully from a group of muggers.

“Holy shit!” Flash exclaimed, eyes wide.

“Hey, hey, hey. The bad guys are gone now, it’s just you and me.” Peter tried to sympathize with him, being in danger for the first time can be a big shock.

“Jes- Jesus Christ! They could have killed me!”

“They didn’t though, you’re good, they’re stuck back there for a couple of hours.” Peter awkwardly motioned to the alley before trying to find a natural position for his arms.

Flash let out a huge sigh and slumped against the wall of the adjacent building. Peter looked at him and sighed in turn while he wondered how to proceed. Sure, Flash gives him a lot of shit in school, but it’s not like he was irredeemable. Peter also knew that he was a huge fan of Spider-Man, and he didn’t want to ruin that.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Flash looked at him with a start.

“Are you Spider-Man?” he yelped.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I am.” No, these are my pajamas.

“You’ve saved me before.” Peter didn’t want to give anything about his identity away.

“When?”

“I was in the Washington Monument when the elevator broke. Part of an academic decathlon team, if you know what that is.”

“Oh yeah, I remember that. Were you the guy who tried to save the trophy before himself?” C’mon, just because he was helping him didn’t mean he couldn’t make a little fun of him.

Flash gave a dry chuckle.

“Yeah, I guess that was me.”

Peter hummed in response, wondering how he could end this conversation quickly.

“You also stole my dad’s car.”

Peter’s gaze quickly snapped back to Flash, but he didn’t sound angry. He just sounded… sad.

“I’m really sorry, you were the first person I–”

“Don’t apologize,” Flash interrupted, “That was the first time in a long time that my father paid any attention to me.”

The statement hung heavily in the air between them as Flash’s breaths started to even out.

“Y’know,” Flash started, “I swear I’ve heard your voice before, Spider-Man.”

Oh shit. Peter felt his blood turn to ice. He knew he should have made a voice modulator, but he kept putting it off. All the ones that Mr. Stark had made him were over-the-top and dramatic, just like the man himself.

“Voices are weird like that, huh? You just said we met before anyways, so…” He tried to subtly deepen his voice.

“You just changed it, you sounded different before.”

“Listen, Flash, it’s not a big deal.”

“How do you know my name? You said it while you stole the car, too.”

Double shit.

“I– Someone said it in the Washington Monument, and I remembered it because it’s a cool nickname?” Peter squeaked out, hoping Flash would be blinded by the compliment.

“Are you spying on me? Is this because of what Father did? I know he’s rich, but he’s not worth all this trouble. Because if you hold me hostage, it’s not like he’ll give you anything. And he’s not available, anyways. I tried calling him when those thugs tried to get my phone, but I only have the model early because he paid for an exclusive prototype. If you want it, just take it, they weren’t lying when–”

“Woah woah woah, hey,” Peter cut him off before he ran out of oxygen, “I’m not spying on you, don’t worry.” Flash’s fear turned to anger. He pushed off the wall and got into Peter’s personal space.

“Then tell me how you know my name, Spider-Shit. And why you sound so familiar. I’m just tired of no one listening to me.”

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry. I’m just going to leave now.”

“I’ll show you a big deal”

Then it happened. Before Peter could lean away, Flash grabbed the top of his mask and pulled.

Peter stilled, cursing his supposed Peter tingle. He kept eye contact with Flash, blinking a few times to let his eyes adjust to the change in brightness.

Flash was frozen, his mouth in an almost perfect “O.” He stuttered a few times, not knowing what to say first.

“I– You– Wh–”

Peter’s inner conscious was swinging between fight and flight like a metronome on meth. Eventually, it stopped on one.

“Bye Flash. The cops are already coming, you can leave,” he said grimly. Before Flash could form a coherent sentence, Peter jumped off a nearby streetlight to gain momentum and grabbed his mask from Flash’s hand with a web as he used his other hand to swing from a nearby building. He quickly put it on before getting out of Flash’s line of sight, turning his head to see him staring right at him.

“Shit,” Peter murmured.

—

Peter was able to get back to his bedroom before anyone woke up. He changed back into his hand-me-down pajamas and booted up his laptop. There was no way he’d go back to sleep now. Thankfully he didn’t have to see Flash until Monday, and it was still Saturday.

He checked the clock. Scratch that– Sunday. He sighed and rubbed his face. He had no clue how he was going to face Flash knowing he was Spider-Man. He checked Spider-Man’s mentions on Twitter and Instagram, but there wasn’t anything online about his identity yet. That was a good sign, at least. The only people who weren’t superheroes or part of Mr. Fury’s group that knew his identity were May, Ned, and MJ. And Liz’s dad, but he figured it out last year and nothing has happened yet. He really didn’t want to add anyone else. Flash knowing was… manageable, as long as he didn’t tell anyone else. He decided to just mindlessly browse Twitter while he waited for the rest of the world to wake up.

—

“Are you sure I can’t miss a day?” Peter groaned out from underneath his pillow. Sunday went by too fast. He managed to not let it slip that Flash found out his identity to Ned or May, but it still sat like a stone deep in his stomach.

“Peter, superheroes don’t get sick, you already miss so many classes. Ned’ll be here soon, chop-chop!” May yelled from the kitchen, no doubt trying to get the coffee maker to work.

Peter stretched his spine before quickly throwing on the cleanest looking clothes he could find on his floor and made it to the front door just as Ned was knocking, being sure to grab his wrapped up lunch and snacks from the counter before he left.

“Bye May, love you!” He yelled behind him as he walked out, locking the door behind him.

Peter and Ned walked to school together, like always. Ned was talking about LEGO’s new Avenger Tower set when the secret bubbled up into Peter’s throat. He made sure no one was around, and then interrupted Ned.

“Flash saw me in the suit!” He said harshly.

“What? When?” Ned looked at Peter with the same wide-eyed look that he always has when talking about his extracurricular activities.

“During our sleepover, I went out after you fell asleep and I stopped some people who were mugging Flash and then he took my mask off and I just left and now we’re going to see him in school and he’s probably already told everyone!”

“Why did you let him take off your mask!”

“I don’t know it just happened!”

“I thought you had your Peter tingle?” Ned acted out his words, waving his fingers near his temple.

“Stop calling it that, I’m freaking out right now, man!”

“It’ll be fine Peter, we can figure this out together. Does May know?”

“No I didn’t tell her, are you crazy? She already hates Flash, this would just give her an actual reason to go murder him!” There was only one adult he would feel comfortable telling, and he was six feet underground somewhere upstate.

“Okay, just… Deep breaths. We can figure this out.”

Peter and Ned’s conversation kept ping-ponging between the two for the rest of their walk. Eventually, they reached their lockers.

“Ned, we have chemistry first period with him! What’ll I do?” Peter said, sounding more like a strangled cat than a teenager.

“Guy in the chair, I’ll figure something out. I can cause a distraction whenever you need. I’ll just drop all my stuff onto the floor, just give me the signal,” Ned said pointedly, grabbing an extra textbook he doesn’t need from his locker.

“I don’t see how that will help,” Peter hissed at Ned before they walked to class.

—

Flash was already in his seat and had a crowd of students around his desk.

“I was scared out of my mind, when all of a sudden–” Flash’s eyes snapped to Peter and he choked on his words for a second. He cleared his throat before anyone listening to him noticed and returned his attention back to the group around him– “Spider-Man came in. He just wiped the floor with these guys, it was awesome. I got to see it all happen five feet away.”

Peter tried to keep his face as neutral as possible as he watched Flash from across the room. Ned, meanwhile, was looking visibly anxious as he fiddled with his stack of textbooks put purposefully near the edge of the desk.

“After he was done and all the guys were stuck to the wall, he just swung away, probably off to save more people’s lives,” Flash finally looked up from the small group of students and made eye contact with Peter as he finished his story, “I wasn’t even able to say thank you.”

Peter let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding.

Peter nodded slowly.

Flash nodded back.

And if either of them noticed Flash started calling him Peter, they wouldn’t tell.

#spiderman #spider-man #ffh #endgame #fanfic #art writes #irondad #hooueh #mcu

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welllpthisishappening · 5 years

Text

The Period of the Long Change (5/15)

It’s quick. One second she’s standing there and everything is fine and then Emma looks up and it’s not. It’s awful. And the lights are too bright and there are too many rooms and too many opinions and her phone won’t stop ringing because everything seems to be changing all at once. She’s never been great at coping with change. But, maybe, if she can just figure it out and stay right where she is, with Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers, at her side, it’ll be alright.

It’s slow. One second he’s standing there and everything is fine and then Killian’s breath catches and it’s not. It’s terrifying. And the noises are too loud and there are too many questions and he can’t find the right answers to any of them, not sure how to cope with everything changing all at once. That’s never really been his forte. But, maybe, if he can just figure it out and stay right where he is, with Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations, at his side, it’ll be alright.

It’s another season and another challenge and Emma and Killian are both struggling to get over the boards.

Rating: Mature Word Count: More than 8K. I like adjectives. AN: As always, thanks for clicking and reading and being generally lovely. Having one-sided conversations with your baby is basically the same thing as therapy, right? Sure.

Also on Ao3 and FF.net and Tumblr if that’s your jam.

The music, honestly, was probably too loud.

Emma wasn’t entirely sure what the volume was at, but she was almost certain she could feel the beat under her skin and that probably wasn’t good for her eardrums or the actual baby sitting in a carrier on the goddamn floor.

She glanced at Peggy, seemingly oblivious to the volume or the generic tackiness of a Spotify playlist that was actually called totally 80s and Emma nearly tripped over a pile of papers she forgot she’d moved.

On the floor.

There were papers all over her floor.

It was, in theory, easier to organize that way – stacks for ticket sales and food options and non-gluten options because things were absolutely crazy and vaguely insane, but Will Scarlet still had a gluten sensitivity and he’d mentioned it fifty-two times in the last three days.

At least.

And there were piles for merch, some signed and some game used and all of it ready to be displayed and auctioned and they were going to get a video poker machine instead of a new roulette table because it was cheaper and Zelena was, suddenly, worried about budgets.

Emma had sat in four different meetings about the same budget in the last week.

She almost didn’t make it to the restaurant the night before, a pen still stuck in her hair when she barreled through the door and Killian’s whole face had done something entirely unfair because he kind of looked stunned when he saw her, but that might have been because they hadn’t really seen much of each other in the last few days.

He had PT and kept loitering at practice, despite several pointed opinions from both Vankald sisters about that in the group text, and Emma felt like she was constantly half a second away from throwing her phone out the window and screaming at everyone to leave them alone so she could make out with Killian in her office again.

They were really good at making out in her office.

But that would probably be difficult if there were still piles of papers on every flat surface and there were not enough hours in the day for everything Emma had to do.

So, really, the music might have been at an entirely appropriate volume.

Or, at least, an understandable one.

“We’re good, right?” Emma asked, glancing back at Peggy like a thirteen-month-old baby was about to respond to her. “Totally not going crazy.”

Peggy did, in fact, make a noise, some kind of gurgle and a mumble of ma, ma, ma, ma, tiny fists held up like she was challenging the air to drop gloves.

Emma sighed, closing her eyes lightly and her legs didn’t entirely appreciate when she crouched down, but she’d actually put her kid on the ground, so her legs could cope and her mind could cope and Killian kept sitting on the bench while the Rangers were practicing.

That new guy was good.

Not Killian good or Killian fast, but he was good and not on the IR indefinitely or worried about headaches or a Tylenol schedule that Emma actually had memorized at this point.

Nicklas Husinger did not have to walk as slowly as humanly possible on a treadmill while Ariel glared at him for forty-five minutes every day.

Emma needed to do something besides sigh.

Peggy tried to wave, but they hadn’t quite got the hang of it yet, a backwards move that made Emma’s heart grow. “You trying to tell me the music is too loud, babe?” she asked, more questions she knew she wasn’t going to get an answer to, but the song changed and Emma had always had a sort of soft spot for George Harrison and she’d picked Peggy up before she realized her fingers were moving.

“I know, I know,” Emma murmured, bobbing on her feet and trying to avoid a stack of papers that Merida had put in alphabetical order the day before. She had no idea where Merida was. Probably avoiding the music. “It’s not too loud, right? You’d definitely shout if it was too loud and we’re happy and kind of dancing. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

No answer.

A hair tug, and a slight gurgle, but no answer.

“This is a good song too,” Emma continued, weaving across her office and it looked like it was snowing out. She hoped it didn’t snow on Casino Night. They didn’t have a snow contingency plan. Shit they should probably have a snow contingency plan.

She’d make the entire goddamn roster walk to Gotham Hall if the cars couldn’t get there.

And Killian needed to get a tux.

“Oh damn,” Emma muttered, remembering that and wondering if there was a notebook somewhere that wasn’t already filled with half-finished thoughts and schedules. She made a face when Peggy did, eyes flashing down with an expression she hoped was repentant because Killian had read one time about talking to babies before they were born and how that affected their cognizant reasoning once they were born and Emma could only imagine the kind of impact she was leaving on her kids by swearing in their faces.

“Listen, when you know how to actually say words and not just yank on my hair to get my attention, I need you not to mention this entire afternoon to your dad, ok?” Emma asked, and she’d clearly lost her mind. “I’m serious, babe. Not a word. He should have reminded me about his tux.” Peggy squirmed, which Emma assumed was some kind of sign and she knew Killian didn’t forget about his tux and just didn’t want to go to Casino Night and the whole thing was a disaster.

The new guy was really good. He’d scored in the second game of the back to back. They were on a win streak.

Killian was probably watching film while walking as slowly as humanly possible on the treadmill.

“He’s really freaking out, you know,” Emma muttered, ducking her head to kiss Peggy’s forehead and the words weren’t supposed to shake their way out of her, but nothing had really gone according to schedule in the last week and a half and she was so ridiculously tired she was positive she was walking through some kind of constant fog.

“And he’s not really talking about it,” she added. “Which is kind of making me freak out. Are you a little freaked out too, Pegs? Because that’d almost be understandable.” Emma leaned back, not sure what she was waiting for, but the almost-raspberries Peggy blew into the air were pretty far down the list and her laugh sounded as genuine as it had since the almost date.

“That was about as eloquent as me,” Emma grinned. She was still almost dancing, shifting and rocking and twisting her hips and George Harrison had turned into the B52s and this playlist was going to single-handedly fix all of Casino Night, she was positive.

It was, at the very least, doing a pretty great job of calming her nerves.

She kept reading about post-concussion symptoms. In between meetings and budgets and numbers that Merida promised ten different times they’d reach because they didn’t have another choice, and Aurora had called twenty-two times in the last day to double check on the Garden of Dreams banner.

A goddamn banner.

That had gotten water damaged in New Jersey too.

Emma needed to stop reading about concussion symptoms. It was terrifying.

“It’s not that,” she whispered, half to herself and half to Peggy and, maybe wholly to the world, challenging everything and everyone because it was just a misdiagnosis and not CTE and it absolutely, positively was not going to be CTE, and indefinite didn’t mean forever.

At least not in this instance.

Peggy yanked on Emma’s laces.

“Hey,” Emma chastised softly, pulling away fingers and brushing kisses over the back of her daughter’s palm. Her phone was ringing again. It was probably Aurora again. It was definitely Aurora again.

She’d been avoiding Aurora like several different plagues.

Maybe she should have talked to Phillip about Aurora.

That felt like cheating.

“Hey, hey, hey, Pegs, what if we go on another field trip, huh?” Emma asked. She knew Peggy’s eyes didn’t actually get brighter, but it was comforting to think that this conversation wasn’t quite as one-sided as it definitely was. “We can go see A and maybe get Dad to stop staring at film that’s only going to make him mad and then we can totally avoid Aurora again. That seems like a pretty good plan, right? Maybe get some hot chocolate?”

“Are you avoiding Aurora?” Emma jumped several feet in the air, clinging to Peggy and Ruby grinned from the doorway, arms cross and feet crossed and a smile on her face that felt a little predatory.

Peggy started crying.

“Jesus Christ,” Emma hissed, nearly tripping over several stacks of paper and Ruby’s smile only got more pronounced. “Where the hell did you come from?” “Like in general or just now?” “Ruby.” She moved her eyebrows quickly, uncrossing her limbs and crossing the threshold before taking Peggy out of Emma’s arms without asking. “Hey, Pegs,” she cooed, rocking her weight between her feet and it took, exactly, three seconds for the crying to stop completely. “Is your mom interrogating you? She realizes you can’t answer, right? And it’s only a little weird that she’s conversing with you? An actual, human baby?” “It’s good for them to hear voices and be acknowledged,” Emma pointed out. She sank onto the edge of her desk, one of the few places she could do that and Ruby hummed.

It was decidedly placating.

And the phone was ringing again.

“Oh I’ve got no doubt you absolutely believe that,” Ruby said. “Or that it’s actually true.” “Where are you going with this?” “That you are wandering around your office, which incidentally looks like several different disasters, talking to a baby who can’t respond to you because you don’t want to voice your concerns to someone who can actually respond to you.”

Emma blinked. And pressed her lips together – tightly. She was, like, seventy-two percent positive the music got louder. But that might have just been the rushing in her ears and the pounding of her heart and she was not at all emotionally prepared for Ruby to get to the heart of the matter that quickly.

She was really pissed off at the Rangers for still winning.

And at Aurora for being worried about a goddamn, fucking banner. It was Gotham Hall. That banner was going to look ridiculous.

“How was that?” Ruby asked when Emma didn’t respond immediately.

“Absolutely terrible and totally wide of the net.” “Ah, that was actually funny, Em.” “I am occasionally funny,” she muttered, but she couldn’t quite get enough acid in her voice for it to sound like a convincing insult and she was way too tired to try again. Ruby probably knew that too.

“I’m still not disagreeing with you. But this joke felt a bit more like an attempt to prove how fine you are instead of how good your sense of humor is.” “Did you just come in here to lecture me?” “I mean, kind of,” Ruby shrugged, and there was something to be said for honesty. “I wasn’t expecting to find you soliloquy'ing your kid though. Isn’t she supposed to be at daycare? Or anywhere that is not suffering permanent hearing damage?” “You think the music’s too loud?” “I could hear it when I got off the elevator.” “You work two floors above me.” Ruby shrugged again, waving a hand through the air. “And I wasn’t in my office. I was talking to Zelena because…” She trailed off, glancing around the office for something Emma hoped she didn’t find and she didn’t entirely expect the weight of absolute and total dread to land in her stomach quite that suddenly or quite that painfully.

“If this is about Casino Night budgets again I’m going to curse Zelena to several other realms,” Emma warned, drawing a quiet scoff out of Ruby and Peggy fussed in her arms again. “But I’ve got a sneaky suspicion it doesn’t actually have anything to do with Casino Night.” Ruby shook her head.

“Is that why you didn’t go on the road swing?”

“That was mostly because I didn’t feel like being in Arizona or Nevada right now.” “Because you’re trying to make sure I’m not staging several different mental breakdowns in my office?” “You words, not mine,” Ruby pointed out. She took a step forward, pressing the toe of her shoe on Emma’s outstretched foot and her smile had a hint of something that felt a hell of a lot like disappointment to it. The dread in Emma’s stomach moved to her heart. “And you’re pulling Pegs out of daycare so you can have one-sided conversations with her.” “It was just one day,” Emma reasoned, but the argument fell flat and it wasn’t much of an argument and she probably would have taken Matt out of school too if she knew he wouldn’t, somehow, find his way onto the ice. “She’s a good...distraction. Ah, shit that’s a terrible description. Don’t tell Killian I called her that, that’s not what I meant at all.” “I realize that. Although your inability to choose the right words is, like, at least five eighths of the reason I didn’t go on the swing. Plus, they’re going to roll, nothing’s going to happen in two games that the rest of my team couldn’t deal with on their own.” “It sounds very impressive when you call your two assistants your team.”

Ruby flashed her a smile – less emotional and just a little happier and Emma’s entire soul appreciated that, the air around her not feeling nearly as heavy as it had before. “I am incredibly impressive at all times,” Ruby muttered. “And some kind of baby whisperer. Which I think you should remember the next time you let Scarlet and Belle watch your kids before you ask me.” “That was kind of a spur of the moment thing.” “I do not care at all. He’s been bragging about how great they were at it. You know I got pictures of them designing defensive schemes on the PK?” “Matt is four,” Emma argued. “What kind of defensive schemes could he come up with?” “I’d imagine he got a good amount of direction from Scarlet, but it included a lot of blocking shots and they were a little worried about the chance of sticks breaking which, you know, is horrible on the PK. But then, and this is straight from Belle because Scarlet would never admit it, mini-Jones got bored by defense and announced he was only ever going to be on the power play so he could score.”

Emma’s heart sputtered.

Or stopped.

It felt like it stopped.

It hurt like it stopped.

She was glad Ruby was holding Peggy.

Emma dug her nails into her desk, a move that wasn’t going to do her any favors in the long run, but in the moment at least made sure she felt like she was still tethered to the Earth. She squeezed her eyes closed, willing her lungs to continue functioning and Spotify was playing some kind of 80s rock ballad.

She didn’t appreciate that.

Spotify could go fuck itself, honestly.

“Do you know how terrifying CTE stuff is?” Emma asked, wincing when the question came out like a shout and the fear in her voice seemed to reach out and slap her. “And I didn’t...I didn’t even really think about it until now. I mean even after knowing everything about Liam and what happened then. I just…” She sighed, twisting her ring in between her fingers and her laces fell halfway down her arm. She’d forgotten to eat again. She really needed to remember where Merida was.

“It’s really bad,” Emma finished lamely. “All the stuff that could happen or go wrong.” “It didn’t with Liam,” Ruby pointed out.

“It could have.” “Have you been looking up CTE symptoms?” “If I say no are you going to tell me I’m an enormous liar?” “No, but only because the question was really more rhetorical than anything else. Your crazy eyes were a pretty good answer. Plus the aforementioned soliloquy.” “It wasn’t a soliloquy,” Emma grumbled, but that was a lie too and she knew her eyes looked insane. “It was just a vocal listing of plans.” “Does Cap know you’re looking up symptoms to a disease he doesn’t actually have?” “If you tell him that I’m looking things up, I will push you in traffic, I swear.”

Ruby’s eyebrows jumped immediately, lips quirking and Emma wished her face wasn’t quite as expressive. It was way too judgmental. She let out a low whistle, tracing her tongue over the front of her teeth and her eyebrows didn’t move when she turned towards Peggy.

“I think you’re mom’s kind of lost her mind,” Ruby muttered, gaze flitting back towards Emma when she spoke again. “There’s a reason Scarlet didn’t mention any of this to Cap. Because his eyes would do the same thing yours are doing, but he’d probably get a stick from somewhere and check several people with it until they yielded.” Emma’s laugh was shaky and nervous, but Ruby was right and it wasn’t CTE. It would be fine. Ruby also wasn’t done.

“Nothing is going to happen to him, you know that right?” she asked. “There was a diagnosis and a name and Ariel said as long as he followed the schedule he’d be able to get back by playoffs.” “That’s if we make playoffs.” “You’re just looking for excuses now.”

Emma didn’t argue, couldn't and didn’t want to and in the great, big list of everything that could have gone wrong in a life that was otherwise pretty fucking fantastic brain trauma wasn’t even close to making the list.

She hadn’t even considered it.

She’d thought about broken bones and ACL injuries and trades. She’d considered the possibility of blood clots and getting a skate to the back of the calf before she thought about concussions and the helmets were supposed to be better.

The hits weren’t supposed to be that hard.

There were rules.

That kid shouldn’t have lowered his shoulder.

“God, Mary Margaret really underestimated just how badly you’re dealing with this, huh?” Ruby murmured, and Emma almost didn’t realize she was talking to her.

She didn’t entirely appreciate it when she did.

“Are you gossiping about this?” Emma hissed, and Ruby actually had the audacity to roll her eyes. “Is that honestly what’s happening? Is the whole team doing it?” “Em, give us a little credit. We are not gossiping. We are worried. Exponentially. And Mary Margaret can’t keep a secret to save her life. You know this.”

She did.

And she knew it would, probably, be fine as long as they followed the schedule and actually made the playoffs and no one did anything even more stupid, but her mind was running on some kind of previously unknown level, pointing out everything that could go wrong and had already gone wrong and they’d been winning.

And she still couldn’t quite figure out why Killian didn’t tell her.

Or how she didn’t notice.

“Cap wasn’t keeping secrets because he’s an ass,” Ruby continued. She dropped next to Emma, bumping shoulders and they should have changed the playlist if they were going to have this conversation. The whole thing felt a little absurd. “You know that too, right?”

Emma nodded. “In theory.” “And in practice?” “I keep researching CTE symptoms and signs and what to look for when handling a loved one dealing with multiple concussions.” “That sounded a little clinical.” “It’s easier to deal with if I get a little clinical, honestly,” Emma mumbled. “Like I’m dealing with it from an outside perspective or observing or something.” “Yeah, how’s that working out for you?” “Like shit.” Ruby scoffed, resting her head on Emma’s shoulder and at some point they’d both started holding Peggy at the same time, fingers dancing over Rangers-branded merch and neither one of the Jones kids ever wore anything except blue.

“That endorsement deal fell through,” Emma whispered, not sure if she was supposed to broadcast the news, but Regina had told Killian before the team left the night before and maybe half her current research was being solely fueled by the look on his face. Like the entire world was ending.

He’d barely said two words for the rest of the night.

“I figured that would happen,” Ruby said. “That doesn’t mean Gina won’t get something better next season. She’ll probably get double the money from like...Nike or whatever on the force of her anger and the power of her glare alone.” “I don’t think Nike’s affiliated with the NHL. NFL, maybe. NBA definitely. Maybe, like, track and field because they’re in Oregon, right?” “I think that’s Under Armour.” “Nah, that’s Baltimore.” “Why do you know that?”

Emma shrugged, but she’d researched that too and Killian Jones was already the face of the NHL, but an endorsement deal and an equipment deal would have been big and several adjectives worth several zeroes and it would have been more than hockey.

She almost understood why he didn’t tell her about the headaches.

“It’s not CTE,” Ruby repeated, like that would get Emma’s mind to stop thinking or worrying or plotting for the metaphorical end of the world. “And this isn’t the NFL, Em. We’re usually way better at preventing this kind of stuff.” “I know that.” “Do you? Your music and baby theft suggests otherwise.” “She’s my baby,” Emma argued, groaning when Ruby laughed under her breath. “God, that sounded more defensive than calling her a distraction. Just...don’t tell Killian about any part of this conversation, ok?” “I’ve got no plans to do that at all, because I am not Mary Margaret, but I do think you should probably tell Cap about every single part of this conversation yourself. Tonight. You should have already, but you’re trying to save the Casino Night budget. And you’re you, plus Cap is him and he’s lurking on the bench.” “How do you know that?” Ruby stared at her incredulously, another judgmental look and there was not enough oxygen in any of the known universes for the amount of sighing Emma kept doing. “That’s insulting,” Ruby said. “And I knew about Locksley and Scarlet’s plan to intervention him.” “Can you use that as a verb?” “I just did, so…” “So let it be written,” Emma intoned, the sarcasm almost audibly dripping off her words. “I don’t think he wants to go to Casino Night.” “Do you?” “Not really. This budget is ridiculous and I’m considering several threats to the entire state of New Jersey at this point.” Ruby chuckled, making a face at Peggy, but her expression turned serious when she looked at Emma. “Zelena wants to do a promo on the new guy,” she said bluntly, and Emma had to swallow before she could completely process those words in that order.

“What?” “That’s why I wasn’t in my office. She...well, he’s been playing well and I guess there’s been some interest and one of my assistants said The Post wants to do a feature and--” “--He’s an AHL replacement,” Emma yelled, a noise Peggy did not appreciate and Ruby gaped at her when her voice cracked. She was standing up. She didn’t remember deciding to do that. “He’s not going to stick around that long.” “At least until the playoffs, Em,” Ruby said.

“He’s not going to be on the team that long.” “Emma…” “No, no, c’mon,” Emma argued, not sure if it was an argument or just her desperation, finally, boiling over, but Ruby looked a little wary of her when she started pacing a small circle on the few inches of open floor. “Who even is this guy? He’s not anyone. He’s not even that fast.” “I don’t think being fast is a prerequisite for being a good NHL player. It’s just plus.” “Well, he’s got a negative, then!” “I know you’re pissed, so I’m going to overlook that sentence.”

Emma cursed under her breath, tugging her hair over her shoulder and huffing out air she probably could have used to maintain her higher brain functions. “Does Killian know about any of this?” Ruby shook her head. “No, I came here first, because uh…” She wished she hadn’t stood up.

She wished the Earth would stop throwing metaphorical curveballs directly at her face.

She wished she could stop coming up with sports-based clichés.

“I’m not doing that,” Emma whispered, and she knew Ruby heard every word perfectly. “I’m not. Zelena can come down here and tell me if she wants to and I’ll tell her the same exact thing. I’m not hyping up some guy who shouldn’t even be on the team.” “He should be on the team, Em.” “No, he shouldn’t!”

The words sounded insane. She sounded insane. And her breathing was ragged, shoulders heaving and tears pricking the corners of her eyes and she was going to rip her laces in half if she didn’t stop yanking on them.

“He shouldn’t,” Emma repeated softly. Ruby moved a pile of papers before she walked towards her, resting a hand on her shoulder and trying to brush away tears and the team kept winning. She hoped that wasn’t a sign.

That was a shit sign.

“It’s not going to stay that way,” Ruby said, a promise she absolutely could not keep because the internet kept saying these things were temperamental and it was a waiting game and there wasn’t much to do except hope it got better.

“Right,” Emma mumbled. “Right, right. It’s...going to be fine. It is fine. Currently.” “Man, that was really bad.” She let out a watery laugh, squeezing her eyes closed when her hair found its way back into the grip of a questionably strong thirteen-month-old. “Super bad,” Emma agreed. “So, uh...if Mary Margaret told you about everything, I’m guessing she told you about…”

“Tink offering you a job? Emma nodded. “Oh, yeah, she opened with that because she knows not to bury her lede. I also heard from Tink, but that’s a whole other story.” “How do you know her?” “Well, first of all, I know everyone, so jot that down. And secondly, Regina knew her from the get. They went to college together or something. She tried to set her up with Cap once.” Emma’s mouth dropped, something that almost felt like wholly irrational jealous flashing through every inch of her, and she really needed Ruby to consider her conversational reactions before she did them. Laughing was not helping her state of mind.

“Relax, green-eyed monster,” Ruby muttered. “You’re the only one the set-up ever worked for. So retract those incredibly possessive claws.” “I don’t have claws.” “You had, like, slightly pointed nails. What did you say to Tink? And what did she say to you?

“Not much, really,” Emma said. “She told me she knew who I was and what a good job I’d been doing in New York and that she was offering me a job.” “And?” “And what?” “What did you tell her? That was almost a week ago.”

Emma shrugged. “I told her I’d think about it.” “Have you?” “Absolutely not.”

Ruby’s laugh wasn’t unexpected, but it was still a little jarring and almost as loud as the 80s music that was still, inexplicably, playing. “Of course not,” Ruby mumbled, a note of familiarity in her voice that was, almost, endearing. Her eyes darted to Emma’s desk when her phone made another noise, and neither of them were psychic, but they were both pretty good at making educated guess and it was only a matter of time.

And the world appeared to have a very twisted sense of humor.

“Stop reading the internet,” Ruby commanded. “And answer your phone.”

Emma took a deep breath, and she’d run out of places to run – metaphorical or otherwise – because there was stuff all over the floor and Ruby wouldn’t let go of Peggy and she knew all the words to the song playing from her computer speakers.

That felt like a sign too.

“Hello?”

“Emma,” Tink said brightly “I feel like we’re playing phone tag.” “Yeah, yeah, it’s uh...it’s been a bit of a crazy week since the break and we’re getting ready for our Casino Night and--” “--Oh, no I understand completely. I’m just happy I was able to catch you when you weren’t busy. I’ve spoken to your assistant several times.” “What?” Tink made a noise from wherever the hell she was, a hum and audible confusion, and Emma’s head snapped to Ruby, met with a shrug because she wasn’t Elsa Vankald-Jones and didn’t have supersonic hearing.

“I’ve spoken to your assistant several times,” Tink said slowly. “She said you were in meetings for most of the week or out of the office.”

Emma was going to have to buy Merida a new apartment. Or something. A car. A car was impractical in Manhattan. Maybe she’d just give her her job.

She was better at it anyway.

“Right,” Emma said, the word sounding strained and force and Ruby shook her head like there’d been a question at all. “Well, I’ve got a few minutes if you’re good.” “Emma, I called you.” “Right.” “I wanted to give you a bit more information on what exactly it is I’m offering you,” Tink started. “It is, frankly, an incredible opportunity.” “I’m all ears,” Emma mumbled, dropping back onto her desk. Ruby snickered.

It sounded like Tink smiled. “Perfect. Well, as I said, the league has taken notice of the work you’ve done in New York and, particularly, the work you’ve done with children and the Rangers. I think you’ve single-handedly sparked an entire new generation of Blueshirts fans.” She paused, like she was expecting Emma to laugh or agree and Ruby scowled when Emma didn’t do either.

“Anyway,” Tink continued. “The board of governors wants to continue to do just that. We want to expand the game to the youth and help grow interest across the country, maybe even the world. There’s been some talk of playing a few games in Europe and possibly a Winter Classic in Finland in 2030 and--”

“--And what does that have to do with me?” Emma interrupted. Ruby’s face was going to get stuck like that.

“Everything, in fact.” “These conversations always seem to end with me telling you I don’t understand what you’re talking about. I can’t imagine that’s a good first impression.” “Oh, we’re on a much later impression than that,” Tink promised. “Double digits, at least. That’s why I’ve been so understanding about your schedule, particularly with your husband’s injury. That kid they brought up from the ‘Pack scored a nice goal a few days ago, though.” Emma grit her teeth. “Yes, he did. What exactly does this job mean, Tink?” “You’d still be based in New York, I can guarantee that upfront. I know you’ve got young children to consider and I noticed your son was on the ice during the Skills competition.”

Emma took another deep breath, large enough that she was sure her lungs were going to jump out of her body and object loudly to the move. Ruby didn’t appear to be breathing. The computer was playing We Built This City. They’d never turned the volume down.

“Although there would be a considerable amount of travel involved,” Tink continued, and maybe they should get Elsa to schedule everyone’s conversations because she appeared to be the only person who could go from one point to the other coherently.

“Travel,” Emma echoed. Tink hummed from, maybe, Toronto.

“Oh yeah, of course. How else do you think you’re going to help run the events?” “You haven’t been exactly forthcoming with that part.” Tink laughed lightly, a chair squeaking in the background and Emma made a mental note to ask Regina this woman’s entire life history. She’d make Roland stand next to her when she did. Then Regina wouldn't be able to argue.

“The idea is to get kids on the ice,” Tink explained. “To increase youth participation in places where it hasn’t been all that impressive in the last few years. That means skating clinics, meet and greets with players and coaches and alums, instructional events and, I’m afraid, anti-concussion measures.”

“I’m not pro concussion,” Emma muttered, the words finding their way out of her without any sort of filter. Ruby had to press her face into Peggy’s stomach to muffle her laugh.

Tink clicked her tongue. “I’m not suggesting you are, just that it might be a touchy subject currently. But, as I’ve said, league-wide community relations has been a growing part of the brand over the last two decades. We’ve helped renovate arenas and get facilities into towns, now we want to make sure kids are interested and taught well from the moment they lace up.” “And you think I’m the best person for that job?” Emma asked skeptically.

“I wouldn’t be stalking you via phone if I didn’t.”

“That’s fair.”

“You’d get your own office, a team of professionals who’d be more than willing to do your bidding. I’m sure you can even take that assistant who’s very good at lying with you, if you wanted to. The pay would be...competitive, let’s say. And it’d be secure. This the direction the NHL wants to take with its fanbase. That’s not going to change any time soon.

I realize you’re busy, Emma,” Tink continued, a sudden business-like approach that didn’t quite match up with her voice. Emma sat up straighter. “But I think you’re the perfect fit for this. I think you can affect the game. I think you can do something incredibly positive with this opportunity and I’m going to need an answer by the end of the month.”

The phone went dead before Emma could even open her mouth, let alone with respond, and she exhaled so loudly her whole body heaved forward.

“So, uh, we going to dance party some more or, like, what’s the plan here?” Ruby asked, Emma’s laugh loud and slightly unstable.

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s totally the plan here.”

Emma managed to successfully avoid both Aurora and Zelena for the rest of the day, tugging Merida into her office when Ruby announced they had to switch to 70s music before I go insane and there was more dancing and a distinct lack of professionalism, but she did at least eat lunch, so she figured it all balanced out in the end.

And there was a game that night.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, twisting awkwardly in the back of the car to try and grab it and Killian had picked Matt up again. Emma had to change into merch in her office.

Did you know that Arizona is the country’s leading copper producer and that the Arizona capital is covered in the equivalent to 4,800,000 pennies?

Emma laughed out of instinct and years of doing just that and feeling even more and those were decidedly sentimental thoughts, but her shirt was almost identical to Peggy’s so comparatively it really felt normal.

I did not know that. Why did you know that?

If I tell you that I had to look it up is that cheating?

Nah.

Then I totally knew it off the top of my head.

She was only a little worried her smile was going to get stuck on her face, but there wasn’t as much traffic and a pair of Jones jerseys waiting for them outside the restaurant.

“Mom,” Matt cried as soon as Emma opened the door, dodging Killian’s arms and nearly taking her out at the knees. “Mom! Mom! Did you know that ice cream was invented in St. Louis?” “What?” Killian groaned, hands stuffed in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels and Emma furrowed her brows in confusion. “That’s not what the fact was,” he mumbled. “The ice cream cone was invented in New York, the guy got a patent and everything, but it was popularized at the St. Louis World’s Fair where the guy twisted a waffle into a cone-type shape.” “Naturally.”

“There was an educational part to the whole thing.” “Yuh huh,” Emma muttered, but her smile still felt stuck on her face and Matt was wearing his All-Star jersey. Killian shrugged when she looked at him. “What kind of ice cream did you get, Mattie? Were there sprinkles involved?”

“Chocolate and chocolate,” Matt yelled, and Killian shook his head.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Emma grinned, swiping her thumb over a missed spot of evidence at the corner of his mouth. “You still want dinner though? Because A and Eric may be upset if you don’t eat their food.” “Onion rings?”

“It’s an away game, kid. There’s always onion rings.”

He nodded enthusiastically, turning on his heels and running into the restaurant with their usual order on his tongue and Emma was fairly certain that was unnecessary. She also wasn’t sure if Killian could move.

“You ok?” she asked, a loaded question that seemed to be playing on loop out of her for the last week and a half. He nodded, but it looked stiff and unnatural and he had to twist his arms when Peggy reached for him. “We didn’t have to come, you know.” “Red would have killed me.” “You show for PT or just play hookie with ice cream?” “The ice cream happened after I walked the world’s slowest recorded mile.” “Somehow I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration. And this whole stupid team can do several words I won’t say out loud in case they wreck Peggy’s mental state. Honestly. This has nothing to do with them. I can yell if you want.” “You don’t have to yell, Swan,” Killian murmured. “Are you worried about Peggy’s mental state?”

“I mean, a little,” Emma admitted. “But mostly yours.” “I’m fine.” “So I’ve heard.” “Still true,” he said.

“Did he pick that jersey on his own?” Killian’s lips twitched, tongue darting between them and that was as much an answer as any of the words he could actually say. “Immediately,” he said. “I guess it’s got to get some use.”

“Was the ice cream before or after the costume change?”

“Before,” Killian laughed. “We ate the ice cream on the way home from school. I figured there was more time in between that and the onion rings then.”

“Super dad.”

He shifted Peggy between them, bending to brush his lips over hers and it wasn’t enough, but they were on a sidewalk and she could hear Ruby shouting and Mary Margaret trying to quiet her and she kind of wanted onion rings. “C’mon, love,” he said. “I’m sure there’s protocol I’ve got to follow for away games.”

There was, in fact, protocol, but Emma assumed it helped when you wore a shirt only actual team members got because your sister was also dating the equipment manager and it was all going pretty well.

There hadn’t been any fights, no terrifying hits, not even a penalty kill.

Matt kept shouting about offsides, but Emma wasn’t entirely convinced he was entirely sure what offsides was, and Killian kept an arm wrapped around his waist when he climbed onto the table that was always theirs. “You realize you’re mumbling instructions under your breath, right?” Emma asked, glancing at Killian out of the corner of her eye. The third period had just started, Arizona winning the faceoff and neither Roland nor Matt were very impressed by that.

“What?” Killian muttered. He didn’t take his eyes away from the TV.

“Instructions. Pass right and cross ‘em, which I didn’t entirely understand, and there was a few times in the second when they were all up against the boards and you just kept chanting ht him over and over again.”

Killian laughed, switching grips on Matt so he could lace his hand through Emma’s. Her heart fluttered. Or something less ridiculous with two kids and goddamn brain trauma and he smirked when he looked at her.

“He should have hit him that’s why,” Killian explained. “No one’s going to call that. Not in a scrum in in the first week of February. And certainly not in a non-divisional game.” “Seems like a lot of prerequisites.” He shrugged. “I almost know what I’m talking about.”

“Almost. Seriously what did cross ‘em mean? I can’t figure it out.” “You could have asked.” “What do you think I’m doing right now?”

Killian did something wholly unfair with every inch of his face, eyes practically flashing in the dim light of the bar and the hockey game on the TV and Emma wasn’t sure who groaned louder Ruby or David or Ariel.

Mary Margaret looked a little teary-eyed.

Leo had fallen asleep before the first period ended.

“If you guys are going to flirt this obviously, I need you to do it, like, twenty feet away from me,” David said. “At least.”

“Is this flirting, Swan?” Killian asked, and she knew she didn’t imagine how he leaned towards her. His arm didn’t move away from Matt. Absurd upper body strength.

Emma shrugged. “Kind of feels that way, doesn’t it?”

“It could certainly be argued that way.”

“I’m going to arrest both of you,” David warned.

��I don’t think you’ve got that kind of power, Detective,” Emma said. “What exactly is the crime?”

“Grossness.”

Ariel snorted into her drink, Ruby nearly choking on a half-cold onion ring, and Emma wished her glares had magical powers like Regina. It’d probably make her more intimidating.

“Shut up, David,” Ariel muttered. “This is almost cute. I mean it’s super gross because your kid is right there and we’re right here, but it’s also kind of endearing in a romance type way.” “Stop talking, Red,” Killian said. “Swan, you want to keep flirting with me and break all of the rules of this ridiculous tradition?”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day,” Emma muttered, and it was a very strange, slightly dangerous balancing act while one of them was trying to keep a four-year-old from falling off the table, but she swore she felt actual electricity when Killian’s mouth found hers.

She was probably so sentimental because she hadn’t really been sleeping.

Maybe they needed some help.

And someone did, eventually, have to score.

They goal sound went off, ricocheting off the walls of the restaurant and, what felt like, the inside of Emma’s head, and she hated the AHL kid.

Her eyes flashed to Killian, jaw set and shoulders straight and she could feel the tension rolling off him as clearly as if it were being broadcast as well, a muscle in his temple jumping as soon as the first line crashed against Husinger in the corner of the ice. “Em,” David mumbled at the same time Ariel whispered “Cap,” and she shook her head hard enough it hurt her spine.

Her hand was still wrapped up in Killian’s.

“You want to get some air?”

“Yeah,” Killian said, standing up and fixing Matt’s jersey. “Here, c’mon, get off the table, Mattie. You uh…” “We’ve got it, Cap,” Ruby promised. “C’mere, mini-Jones. Let’s talk strategy.”

He didn’t let go of her hand when they walked back onto the block, or possibly the other way around, leaning against the side of the restaurant because there was snow on the curb.

“I’m sorry about--”

“--No, no, don’t apologize,” Emma cut in, and seriously she needed to ask Elsa for conversational tips. Maybe she needed to ask several people for help. Killian blinked in surprise, a fair reaction to the absolute vitriol in her voice and Emma wasn’t mad at him.

She was mad at...the world.

That sounded ridiculous. There wasn’t really anything to be mad about. Killian was fine and would be fine and this team would probably make the playoffs, but Emma’s brain would not shut up and even an absurd dance party in her office wasn’t enough to distract her for more than a few hours when that AHL asshole scored another goal.

“Red was upset she didn’t get an invite to your club this afternoon,” Killian said, mouth tugging up when Emma spun towards him. “Although I was a little confused by the specifics of it.” “It was kind of impromptu. How did she find out?” “How does anyone find out anything on this team? An absurd string of talking and gossip and interfering in each other’s lives.”

Emma laughed, humming in the back of her throat and Killian tugged her hand up when she tried to rest them both on his chest, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “When I was in school, I usually went to Reese’s house on breaks,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice light. “But one time, Christmas break of senior year, David invited both of us to his mom’s house. Ruth had way more rum for pies than Mr. Blanchard did. And she also had a questionably large record collection. Old 45s and singles an almost impressive amount of Beatles albums, like every one and then some collectors editions, and it was just...enormous.

And one day, Ruth went shopping and left us in her house with her alcohol and her music and we got incredibly tipsy on rum and found her collection of 80s hair bands. Ruth loved White Snake, you know.”

Killian’s laugh was more a guffaw, hot air moving over Emma’s skin because he’d never actually pulled his lips away from her wrist. She hoped he couldn’t feel how quickly it kept beating.

“I can’t quite imagine that,” he admitted.

“Swear to God, it’s totally true. So we started listening to White Snake and Duran Duran and Reese’s put on a pretty fantastic show of singing Living on a Prayer and Ruth totally caught us, but then she started singing too and it might have been the best Christmas I’d ever had until--”

“--Until,” Killian interrupted sharply, and Emma knew her cheeks were flushed. She’d blame the cold. It didn’t have anything to do with the cold.

“Until we stole a Christmas tree,” she said. “And every subsequent iteration after that just keeps getting better, don’t you think?” Killian nodded. “But, uh...the 80s thing kind of stuck with me and Reese’s and it’s a comfort thing or something less lame sounding.” “That doesn’t sound lame.” “That’s generous of you.” “I promise, Swan,” Killian said, and there was no way to doubt it or him or them and she needed to stop looking up CTE symptoms. She wished Husinger hadn’t scored. “I didn’t know that though.”

“I’m full of surprises, I guess.” He hummed, moving to the side of her jaw and the curve of her cheek and Emma bit her lip so David wouldn’t actually arrest them for public indecency. “I need to tell you something,” she muttered. He didn’t stop kissing her. “Killian, I’m serious.”

He leaned back, face even and Emma felt like she was standing at center ice in the middle of overtime and there was probably another gold medal on the line.

That was probably easier than this.

“I, um…” Emma started, tilting her head and hitting herself in the face with her hair. “I don’t think it’s going to actually matter, but you’re right about this team and I didn’t want you to hear from someone else before me and…”

“What, Swan?” “The league offered me a job.” Killian blinked, opening his mouth only to close it again and she didn’t expect him to kiss her.

His arm wrapped around her waist tightly, pulling her flush against his chest and that tongue thing was ridiculous because she couldn’t think when he did that, and Emma was sure he’d planned it that way.

She felt like she was breathing him in, fingers moving on their own and into his hair and she gasped when his hips canted up, rocking against her and the brick wall behind him in equal measure. Emma had to press up on her toes to reach him, a fact Killian didn’t seem particularly inclined to complain about any time soon.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Emma mumbled, earning a groan for talking that might have been because her left hand had found its way under his shirt. “That’s...this was unexpected.” “That’s incredible, Swan.” “What?”

“A job with the league?” Killian asked, leaning back again with a disbelieving look on his face. “That’s incredible. And exactly what you deserve to be doing, love.” “But I don’t…” “You don’t what?” “I just don’t have time to think about that right now.” He blinked again. She didn’t want him to do that. She was stupid attracted to the color of his eyes. “What does that mean?” “I’ve just got a million other things to do,” Emma explained, and she was ready for his eyebrows that time. They twisted and turned and arched and she had to breathe through her nose to stop herself from sighing too loudly. “And I bet they’ve got plenty of other people who could do it better than I could.” “They asked you though.” “I don’t really want to focus on it now. Let me get through Casino Night and that stupid thing we’ve got to do because Phillip hit some point marker first.” “When is that?” “Hopefully before Casino Night,” Emma quipped, and she felt Killian’s laugh before she heard it, lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. “I just didn’t want you to hear about it from Rubes or Reese’s before I told you.” “Do they know about it?”

Emma nodded. “They were both there when I got the phone calls.” “Plural?” Killian asked, voice catching on the word and eyes widening slightly and that was worse than the blinking.

“Tink was very determined, I guess.” It could not have been good for his face to be experiencing so many emotional changes at once. “Yeah, yeah,” Emma muttered, tugging on his t-shirt and one of them should have grabbed a coat. “Ruby told me about that. I mean you wanted to have two painfully adorable kids with me, so I’m not really threatened by the league lady with the slightly ridiculous laugh.” “We could keep making out on the sidewalk if that’d help.” “Nah, I bet David would actually arrest us. Hey, you think we can get him to arrest this AHL jerk? I bet I could get him to do it.” “He’s doing his job, Swan,” Killian said. “He’s supposed to score goals, I don’t think that makes him a jerk by default.” Emma nodded, lower lip jutted out slightly. There were goosebumps on her arms. “That was good,” she mused. “Super convincing, appropriate PR response.” “I’ve been practicing.” “Yeah, I figured. I was almost totally serious about the arrest.”

“I know you were, love, and as much as I appreciate that particular abuse of power, I think we’re good. And you should send the season tickets the e-mail thing about him. It’s ok.”

She almost stumbled over her own feet, jerking back and only staying upright when Killian’s hand tightened around the back of her shirt. “How?” Emma demanded.

“Zelena found me. Told me she knew you’d put up a fight and maybe I could help.” “Jeez.”

“It’s not your fault, Swan,” Killian said, and she knew they weren’t just talking about Husinger. “None of it. You’ve got to do your job. And that was a good goal.” “It was a shit goal and he’s a shit winger and I hate him.” Killian chuckled, kissing her quick and Emma chased after him, but they needed to get back into the restaurant and she heard the door swing open around the corner. “That’s the spirit,” Killian mumbled.

“Hey, uh, guys,” David called. “There’s some kind of argument happening here about proper faceoff technique and I think Matt’s going to challenge Rol to drop gloves.” “Yeah, we’ll be right there,” Killian said. The door sounded very loud when it closed. “It’s alright, Swan,” he continued. “Admittedly not great, but…” He shrugged, mouth twisted and Emma’s heart lurched, some kind of deep-rooted need to make sure he knew how good he was and better than that and he deserved a better schedule than the one they’d come up with.

“Super dad,” she whispered instead, and Killian kissed her before they went back into the restaurant.

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #cs fic #blue line change #i seem to have a habit of making casino night very dramatic always #someday i'll just let them have fun at casino night

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oohlove-oohloverboy · 5 years

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Rami and Joe on some long ass road trip, chilling, going through spotify playlists they made for the occassion, when Joe just flat out, "I'm wearing the black lacy panties, btw" and Rami is like, gripping the steering wheel, thanking whoever's out there no one else is on the road and pulls the car over so he CAN SEE THEM

AO3 Link! [x]

“Also, just so you know, I’m wearing those lacy black panties you got me for my birthday.”

Rami, to his own surprise, didn’t slam on the brake or swerve off the road.

His voice did come out dangerously shaky, though, when he said, “You - what?” He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Joe out of the corner of his eye.

Joe, who was staring right back with a tiny smirk on his face that Rami recognized as trouble immediately. “You heard me.”

Fuck. Rami took in a deep breath, and let it out purposefully slowly. Less than thirty seconds, and they’d gone from playfully joking around, to a comfortable silence, to such charged tension that Rami could probably pop it like a balloon. He’d also personally gone from flaccid to pressing against his zipper at lightning speed, and he didn’t know if that was the reason he was suddenly lightheaded, or because the image of Joe wearing those panties under his jeans was just that dizzying.

“Okay,” he said tightly. “Okay. Alright.” FUCK. “Alright.”

Joe hummed and shifted a little, and Rami glanced back over to find his legs spread pointedly, as much as he could get them in a car seat, anyway. His bulge was… very pronounced, now, and he had the hysterical thought come passing through of he’s wearing silk under those jeans right fucking now.

He may have, possibly, whimpered out loud at that thought when he turned his eyes back to the road.

“If I could make a suggestion,” Joe said, sounding far less bothered than Rami felt. “It’s gonna get dark soon, and the road is pretty deserted, I’d say.” His voice gained an amused twang at the end that had Rami huffing at his dumb pun. Deserted. Sigh. Yeah, they were in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico right about now, but… “There is absolutely no reason you can’t pull over to make sure I’m not lying.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Rami said, too high-pitched to come off as calm, and scowled a little when Joe had to stifle a laugh at his expense.

“But don’t you wanna be sure?” Joe said, drawing it out just-so, and Rami clenched his jaw and his hands on the steering wheel hard enough to ache. He let out a harsh breath through his nose.

Fuck it.

He pulled over to the side of the road jerkily enough to give them both a good lurch when he pulled it into park, leaving Joe snickering as he wrestled his seat belt off. “Don’t laugh.” He could feel himself pouting, even as he was struggling to open the door.

“I’m not!” Joe lied easily, seemingly having no problem releasing himself from his own seat belt and slipping out of the car to follow Rami into the back. He was tempted to keep arguing just for the sake of arguing, but before he could do more than open his mouth, they were together in the back seat with the doors closed and Joe was reclining to lay down with his legs spread. Instead of the remark he wanted to make, what happened was a sharp intake of breath and a very soft sigh that had Joe grinning cheekily. What a little shit. Rami had no doubt he’d planned this.

In response, he rearranged himself between Joe’s legs, leaving one palm pressed to his bulge and the other on his inner thigh so Joe could buck into it and hiss at the pressure. He was tempted to only give Joe that tiny relief, let him hump his hand to completion and utterly ruin his panties while Rami watched, but he wanted - he needed to see.

His hands went to Joe’s zipper, undoing it with ease despite how Joe’s hips rose and fell as another layer was removed between his cock and freedom. As soon as his eyes caught sight of it caught under the black satin, lace straining to accommodate and having a difficult time of it, his cock swollen under the fabric, he couldn’t stop himself - he was bending down to lick over the silk and leaving a wet trail behind him that left Joe hissing and jerking under his hands where they were planted on his hips to keep him still.

“Fuck,” he muttered with feeling, lifting his own hands to card through Rami’s hair and grab two fistfuls and pull. Rami could admit that he whimpered at the sensation, a jolt of arousal shooting down his spine and leaving him painfully aware of his own cock and how it was still trapped under two layers of tight clothing. He mouthed at Joe’s under the silk, panting on it and darkening the satin with his saliva. Joe was practically trembling under him, his thighs quaking on either side of his body, and, frankly, Rami wasn’t fairing much better, humping into thin air for some kind of relief. Maybe if he shifted to lay on his stomach… but the seat wasn’t long enough for that…

He whimpered again when Joe tugged his hair, more purposefully this time, pulling him off of his cock and pressing his face into his stomach, where it was visible now that his shirt had been rucked up. “What d’you wanna do, Ram?” Oh, he already sounded so… “You gotta tell me, I gotta find the condoms if-”

“Wanna-” Rami swallowed, rubbing his forehead into Joe’s naval to keep from looking him in the eye. Joe just used the fingers in his hair to start combing through it, pushing through his curls calmly and soothingly until Rami could talk without choking on his own bashfulness. He was sure Joe could feel the heat of his blush on his bare skin. “Wanna - wanna suck you off, I want it, I-”

“We can do that,” Joe interrupted sharply, his fingers tightening and making a mewl get caught in Rami’s throat. He knew his tone wasn’t from impatience, or anger, because he felt the way his cock jumped to hit his chin at his words. “That is so fine, babe, I have no problem-”

“Then let me-”

Joe’s grip loosened just enough for Rami to shift down so he could get his mouth on his cock again, only to whine at the way the new position made the denim of his fly twist uncomfortably against his own hard-on, and he sunk back down. Joe moved instead, letting go of Rami’s hair so he could push himself up and bring Rami with him. It was just enough for Joe to stay under him and reach down and cup him at the same time, which had Rami shivering, but when he squeezed, he was gasping breathlessly into his chest and bucking into the pressure before Joe decided to put him out of his misery and undo his zipper. He even went so far as to stick his hand into his underwear and give him a few dry tugs that were as relieving as they were a little too much.

All to soon, the hand retreated, leaving Rami’s cock out in the open out of his jeans and underwear, no matter how much he tried to chase the touch with his hips, and Joe was squirming again, shifting so he was back on his back and Rami’s head was resting just over his bulge. He just let himself stare for a few seconds, trying to find his breath. How had he been so thoroughly wrecked so quickly? “Now, I know I’m a delectable specimen, Rams, but staring isn’t gonna get you anywhere,” Joe teased, making Rami curl his lip and send him a pointed look that Joe met with a delighted grin before he planted his hands on either side of his hips and bent back down to run his tongue over the line of Joe’s cock where it was stretching the already-wet black silk.

That earned him a choked-off groan that left him moderately smug, before he really got to work.

By the time Joe’s hips had a mind of their own, and he was letting out little shouts at every pass of his tongue, the satin was positively soaked, from saliva and pre-come both, near see-through and giving Rami a wonderful view of just how hard he was under those panties. The tip had just started to pop out from the waistband, glaringly red against Joe’s pale stomach and happy trail, when Rami decided he’d had enough of only half tasting him, and latched his teeth on the waistband to drag it down and free his cock. The rest of it was just as red, shiny and wet, and Joe let out a frankly indecent moan as it was finally bared, the hot flesh cooling just that much in the air.

Rami didn’t give him much time to savor it, because he was licking up the underside of his cock as soon as he could, from the base to the head, leaving it even shinier in the dying sunlight outside their car, before running the flat of his tongue over his slit and gathering up as much pre-come as he could to swallow and breathe out over it.

It left Joe’s cock twitching and Joe himself whispering, almost to himself, reverently, “Jesus fucking Christ.” When Rami, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth to lick his lips, still dangerously close to the head, glanced up at him, he saw his pupils blown to hell, his lips red and swollen from how hard he’d been biting them, and his face wildly pink, from his cheeks all the way down his neck to under the collar of his shirt. Rami didn’t quite smirk at the sight, since he’d stopped breathing for a moment from the way it’d made his cock throb, but it was a close thing. Instead, he took in a deep breath, kept eye contact, and opened his mouth to sink down as far as he could on Joe’s cock without gagging in one go.

The good news was, Rami managed to clasp his hands onto Joe’s hips before they could buck and make the head hit the back of his throat, and Joe was groaning loudly at the combination of the feeling of his cock in his mouth and what Rami was sure made quite a sight, his lips stretched around him, pink and shiny, looking up at him with eyes that were just starting to tear up.

He pulled off again to catch his breath, feeling shaky all over, not quite sure how he was still able to keep himself up, and watched Joe roll his head back and curse under his breath before blowing cool air on his cock. It made him jerk and curse much louder, this time, and then Rami was leaning back in, taking just the head into his mouth, his eyes fluttering closed, tasting him as he leaked a little more onto his tongue when he swirled it around his slit and up and under. He took him a little deeper, then, just deep enough to drag his teeth along the hyper-sensitive skin and leave Joe trembling under him, raising one leg from where it had been bent at Rami’s side to kick the sole of his foot into the window. It left Rami humming with amusement around him, earning him another buck of his hips for his trouble.

He pulled back again, blowing cool air again, descended again, and repeated once, twice, three times, before going deeper, as deep as he had before, deep enough to not quite set off his gag reflex but to get his eyes to water, and he took in a breath through his nose before swallowing around him-

“Fucking-” Joe’s hand was back in his hair, forcibly pulling him off his cock, to Rami’s immense disappointment, as evidenced by the pitiful whine that escaped him and the way his eyes blinked back open curiously, his vision a little blurry from the tears that hadn’t fallen. His throat wasn’t quite sore, but his voice would definitely be a little hoarse tomorrow, and the thought made him whimper, leaving all his weight on one arm so he could shove his other one down to grab the base of his cock to keep himself from reaching that edge just yet, just yet.

And then Joe’s other hand, the one that wasn’t tight in his hair, was jerking himself off inches from his face, using the leftover saliva and the pre-come still leaking from the tip to ease the way. Getting where this was going, Rami’s lips parted, tongue just peeking out past his teeth in anticipation, and that seemed to do it for Joe, because it took less than four more passes for him to come all over his face with a hiss and a guttural grunt. Rami managed to catch most of it in his mouth, to be fair, but what he didn’t catch landed on his lips, his cheeks, his chin - one precocious stripe had painted his adam’s apple, actually, Rami could feel it when he swallowed it all down, already drying.

The edge he’d been trying to hold himself off from was suddenly right fucking there, and he didn’t think he’d be able to keep himself from coming even if he tried - which he was. He whined, squirming, his fingers tight around the base of his cock, god, how hard was he? If he jerked himself off once it’d probably be enough to do him in. Joe, who wasn’t quite into the ‘absolutely useless post-coital bliss’ part of his orgasm yet, shifted just-so, dropping his leg from the window to push himself back and up, somehow without the lethargy and heavy limbs Rami associated with him after having just come. He kept his hold on Rami’s hair the whole time, keeping him relatively still while he maneuvered them both into kneeling positions, and then was reaching between them to uncurl Rami’s fingers from around the base of his cock and replace them with his own.

Rami’s mouth opened around a soundless gasp, pawing at Joe’s chest, neck arching, eyes fluttering back shut, and the combination of the feeling of Joe’s hand thick in his curls, keeping his head pulled back to bare his throat, the feeling of drying come on the lower half of his face and the dried tear tracks already there, the feeling of his thighs shaking with the exertion of holding himself up, the feeling of Joe’s fingers dancing back and forth on his cock, with just enough pressure to not leave him unsatisfied, the feeling of Joe’s tongue sliding up his throat to lick up the stripe of come he’d put there-

Rami, with his mouth still open, found himself bucking once, twice, before coming into Joe’s hand with a high-pitched keen that petered off into a deeper moan, then soft sighs and mewls as Joe worked him through the aftershocks.

It felt like hours before they got their breath back, and Rami was left with a pleasant ache echoing down his spine after Joe released his hair and pushed him back onto his haunches, cracking his eyes back open. It was pretty dark by now, the sun had definitely set already, but he had no problem seeing the self-satisfied grin on Joe’s face that made him fondly roll his eyes and lightly slap his shoulder. “Oh, hush.”

“So that’s a yes on the panties?”

“Hush.”

“I’m just sayin’, after my birthday, and this, I wouldn’t mind if you borrow ‘em next time-”

The second slap was much harder, and left Joe snickering into the dark.

#mazlek #mine x #fic #smut #sorry this took so long!! to be frank I have to be in a mood to write smut #and I have been in A Mood the last two days so!#maybe I'll be able to crank out some more mazlek prompt responses now? who knows #anyway enjoy this is Filthy

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maggotmouth · 5 years

Text

hullo it nora, back for more mess. this unhinged little nightmare is cecily who i first birthed around 3 years ago and i am so excited to finally be playing her again. feral wolf girl who loves silk babydoll dresses and bubblegum but would also cut your femoral artery if she was bored. is the eptome of that “somethin dangerous about the boredom of teenage girls” trope. amma crellin meets harley quinn meets addy hanlon. ( pinterest )

APP.

( nora. 22. gmt. she / her. ) it might be HER FRESHMAN year but I still think CECILY DE ROSA looks exactly like FREYA MAVOR and sometimes I think the FEMALE is actually them. Of course I’m wrong, as they’re 19 and studying THEATRE while living in FIDELIS here at Lockwood. The GEMINI can be rather PUCKISH and CANDID, but also kind of SELF-CENTRED and HYSTERICAL. Their most played song on Spotify was CELL BLOCK TANGO by CATHERINE ZETA JONES AND THE COMPANY OF CHICAGO, so I think that says a lot.

BACKGROUND.

tw death suicide murder proceed w caution

born as ‘lamia romana’ in italy to catholic parents. her father was a struggling alcoholic and incredibly depressed. when cece was 4, and her brother was 3 her father fed the gas pipe through the back of their car whilst they prepared to go on their family holiday because he knew suicide would leave his wife and children penniless so he decided the most selfless thing would be to take them with him

cecily (lamia) and her brother luc by some miracle survived the accident, but were left orphaned. they were sent to a convent where they were raised by nuns. cece was incredibly religious. it became her whole life. she was devoted to god completely, almost crazed, because in the absence of parents she transferred the need for a guider and protector onto this spiritual other evoked by her religious beliefs.

she always had a strained relationship w her brother because she believed he wasn’t as devoted to catholicism as she was. when she was 13 he claimed that god wasn’t real and that she was a freak, and in a violent rage cecily thrust a crucifix through his throat. it was completely out of character for her. she screamed until her throat went dry. eventually, when the nuns managed to tear her away from her brother’s body, she was taken to a psychiatric hospital in manhattan where she stayed for two years. driven to madness, she convinced herself that she had been possessed by the devil the moment she killed her brother, and soon she began to accept her fate, as not holy, like she had anticipated, but in fact it’s ungoldy antithesis

when she was released, she was adopted by an american distant aunt and uncle and sent to a manhattan boarding school under the new name ‘cecily de rosa’. see also: st. trinnians. lifted of any religious obligation, cecily grew wild. she delighted in acting up, cheeking her superiors, causing havoc and chaos, terrifying the other girls. sex became her weapon – she would seduce the boys from the local comprehensive and drop them like flies. to her, it was merely a game.

uses sex as a weapon, a way in which to manipulate men, having filmed sexual liasons with both a former acting coach and a TA to use for the purposes of blackmail.

her expulsion from school was threatened after she streaked the school naked and doused in pig blood, but her academic prowess was an asset to the school, so they learnt to put up with her antics. she applied for yale but didn’t get in.

she atended juliard for a year but was thrown out for indecency

theatre-wise, one of Cecily’s most commendable traits is her sheer tenacity and lack of inhibition – she is willing to do whatever it takes to climb to the top, and kick as many other people down as necessary on her way there. tthis unhinged hunger for success was evidenced when, in her breakout role, cecily played Tamora in Titus Andronicus. feeling the presentation of one of shakespeare’s most terrifying women was ‘pussy-footed’ and dulled down for a male audience, cecily took matters into her own hands, and during the famous banquet scene where Tamora is fed her own sons, she ate a pig’s heart live on stage – receiving both awestruck and horrified press reviews for her performance -- and getting expelled from her drama school. (thats why she is now at lockwood)

she is in a sorority house n the gymnastic squad. she speaks fluently in four languages. the kind f sociopathic lana del rey writes songs about.

was raised Roman Catholic, and although she is now estranged from religion, it’s still an integral part of her identity. She holds it partially responsible for the need to repress emotion she still experiences. The only time she allows herself to truly feel, without perceiving it as a weakness, is when she’s performing

cecily was raised with dual-nationality and is multi-lingual. Her parents frequently spoke both Italian and English around the house, leading cecily to do the same. She is also somewhat familiar with Latin, having studied it alongside Literature, Contemporary Dance and Theatre at a manhattan-based performing arts boarding school.

ethereal wood elf. plays flute and does ballet. her favourite tv shows are making a murderer and dance moms. she is big on Tchaikovsky and Bukowski. poetry to cecily is soup of the soul, despite the fact that the only things she really feels are apathy and mild disgust. her poems mostly centre around the beauty of violence -- writing about it often prevents her from committing violent acts -- and also her cat.

loves gettin fucked up. always high on sometin -- cocaine, ecstasy, love, her own ego.

had her first taste of alcohol at 15 and has stayed fond of spirits ever since. likes literature of the macabre, isn’t fond of social media, and loves knee high socks and glitter. she bites her nails, will only take cold showers, and doesn’t drink coffee. loves cats. is vegan.

she sleeps like a cat, regularly but short amounts of time, and is usually found awake at night stalking the streets in the pursuit of self-destruction. she views herself as pansexual because she is attracted to people rather than genders but she thinks men are trash. probably biromantic or homoromantic. she loves the chase. she likes meaningless sexual liasons, but if hearts are broken in the process, even better. hearts are breakable and she believes those who have them are foolish.

aesthetic: peroxide hair in a bathtub, bleach, glittery socks under spaghetti strap heels, silk slip dresses, glitter smeared beneath eyes, split knuckles, nose bleeds, a bubble of blue gum snapped against cherry flavoured lips, orange peel, knee-high socks, tartan two-piece skirt and blazers, kate moss posters ripped out of vogue, littering a bedroom wall, yearbook photos tacked together with red thread, clip in highlights, stick on earrings, french music humming from a crackly gramophone, a hip flask covered with hello kitty stickers

PLOTS.

i currently have NO PLOTS for her so everything is open. if you want a cousin / ex-lover / friend with benefits / bully, or are dying for a specific connection, let me know or like this post and i will msg you!! LOVE U ALL xoxo

more plots all of these are plagiarised:

“you were drunk and you climbed in through my apartment window and I’m not really sure how you managed it because not only is the fire escape broken but you are really fucking plastered wtf please, teach me your skills?”

“i set your kitchen on fire ‘by accident’ because i hate your guts, and you know it was me but you have no evidence”

“we’re in a breakfast club style all day detention”

“you came over for ‘help studying’ and my roommate came home five minutes after we were done hooking up and you got roped into a conversation about her dogs and everyone is uncomfortable”

“we’re friends but it’s a really toxic relationship made up of trying to one up each other all the time”

“I caught you writing gay porn in the library and now you’re terrified i’ll tell everyone, but really i’m just waiting for the next instalment”

“i asked you to help me sneak my cat into my dorm but we got caught by the janitor and now we’re both in the principal’s office”

“you saw me come back to my apartment covered in blood one night, but you’ve never asked about it because you’re scared that yours might be the next blood i’m covered in”

“you broke into my apartment while I was out for whatever reason and when I came home I knocked you out and now you’re unconscious on my floor and idk what to do?”

“i just decked you in the face because i’m drunk and you were pissing me off but ow my hand really fucking hurts i think i might have broke it and oh look your nose is bleeding and now we’re both sitting awkwardly in the hospital while i glare at you from across the room. but wait are you giving me sex eyes?? stop that i’m supposed to mad at you??”

“you keep dragging suspicious sacks up to and down from your apartment and I don’t know what your deal is or why I still wanna bone you”

“we’re in the same rocky horror troupe”

“i stayed over at your house and woke you up in the middle of the night to have sex while your roommate is asleep and every time, your room mate yells “STOP FUCKING, JESUS CHRIST” right when we’re about to finish”

“we used to have a thing but now we hate each others guts and can’t be in the same room without yelling at one another”

“i had a drunk one night stand with your brother last year and i threw up in your room, and now we’re in a class together and it’s really awkward.”

#tw:intro #tldr - crazy bitch like 4 plots

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onewfantaesy · 7 years

Text

secret boyfriends; senior homecoming

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4

Taemin’s Senior Homecoming was a big deal in many ways: he’d finally told his parents he wasn’t going to a school dance stag, he finally wore a stupid boutonniere to a school dance, he had been voted Homecoming King, he had to dance the first dance with the Homecoming Queen, and he and Kai managed to pretty much out themselves to the entire school not even a full minute into the first dance.

He also lost his virginity that night, so overall, it was a pretty special Saturday night for a seventeen year old.

When Kai and his parents showed up at Taemin’s house for pictures two hours before the dance, their parents realized the two of them were wearing matching light blue vests and bowties under their suits. Taemin had also told his mom two weeks before that he needed a boutonniere, and he made it sound like he needed it for Homecoming Court, but he and Kai had decided to actually get each other their boutonnieres so they could be somewhat traditional.

Kai hissed when Taemin pinned the flower on his suit, and Taemin punched his shoulder for trying to make him think he had poked him.

“We’re going together,” Taemin muttered slowly to his parents, fearing what his dad’s reaction would be. “Because he’s sort of my boyfriend.”

While his mom was giddy and clapping her hands and telling them how cute they looked in their matching suits, his dad was quiet. Taemin felt like he wasn’t going to be able to breathe until his dad said something, even if it was a negative reaction.

“Just how long has he been your boyfriend?” Taemin’s dad asked.

“Since we were, like, sophomores,” Taemin mumbled. “Are you - are you mad?”

“Of course I’m mad,” his dad said. “He’s been sleeping over in your bedroom practically every weekend since then, and you didn’t think to tell us you were together? Just what have you two been doing in there?”

“Nothing!” Taemin shouted, his voice getting higher. “We haven’t done anything!”

“Well,” his dad huffed, crossing his arms. “You can kiss that little privilege goodbye. He sleeps over, he sleeps on the couch. Understand?”

“Uh, yes?” Taemin said.

That was a much different reaction than what he had been expecting.

Their other friends and their dates were starting to arrive, and Taemin sent one last glance at his dad before going to take pictures with everyone. They all of course made fun of the crown Taemin’s mom reminded him to put on, and Taemin just rolled his eyes at all of them.

When it was time to leave for the dance, Kai drove the two of them in his car to the school. Taemin had shoved a bunch of shit in the center console right when he got in, but he told Kai they were snacks to have before they went to the after parties.

Taemin’s dance coach was a chaperone - like she was every year - and she signed them both in when they got to the door.

“You two are looking rather sharp tonight,” she told them. “Very color-coordinated.”

“Thank you,” Taemin muttered, his cheeks heating up.

“Am I going to have to find you during one of the slow songs?” she asked quietly.

“Not this time,” he whispered. “I don’t think you’ll have to.”

“Alright,” she said. “But if that changes, you just come find me.”

“Yes, thank you,” he mumbled, but Kai had already grabbed his hand and was dragging him over to the table where their friends all were.

Moments before the dancing was supposed to start, the activities director came and pulled Taemin to the back of the gym so he could put on the cape and enter with the Homecoming Queen and the rest of the court. The director announced the King and Queen and said they would start the first dance, and Taemin wiggled his eyebrows at Krystal - the Queen - and held onto her waist when the music started playing.

Typically, if the King and Queen weren’t each other’s dates, the Queen’s date would interrupt the dance after about a minute and ask to take her hand. That year, not even forty-five seconds into the song, Kai rose from his seat and went to tap Krystal on the shoulder.

“Mind if I interrupt?” he asked, and nearly the entire gym was whispering about how he took one of Taemin’s hands and then put the other on his hip.

They were the only two dancing for almost a full thirty seconds, no one having even really known that they were there together, let alone that they were supposedly a couple, and they just watched as Taemin and Kai smiled at each other, laughed, and swayed together. By the time everyone else started dancing, no one noticed the dance coach go to whisper to the DJ to request the next slow song. No one even seemed to notice Taemin squeeze his arms around Kai’s waist and press his body even closer to him to rest his cheek on his shoulder.

When the next song came on, Taemin and Kai laughed at each other when they realized it was the first song they slow danced to during Homecoming their sophomore year - it had sort of become “their song” shortly after that night. Just like their first dance sophomore year, Taemin moved to lock his wrists behind Kai’s neck, Kai wrapped his arms around Taemin’s waist, and the two of them swayed together. This time, however, they actually looked at each other, and there was a severe lack of Kai stepping on Taemin’s feet.

By the end of the song, Taemin had his eyes closed while Kai leaned down to press their foreheads together. Taemin’s crown almost slipped off his head, and he laughed as he reached back to keep it up on his head. When he opened his eyes, Kai pressed a quick kiss to his lips before they could get caught by one of the chaperones.

After about five seconds of the first fast-paced song, Taemin dragged Kai by the hand over to where the chaperones were.

“Can I take these off now?” Taemin asked, tugging at the clasp that held the cape together.

The activities director took the cape and crown from him, and Taemin pulled Kai back to their table to leave their coats on their chairs and go back out to dance.

Even during the fast songs, they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. Now that everyone knew, Taemin didn’t care who saw them holding hands or touching each other’s hair or grabbing each other’s butts. And while he supposed some people might have thought Kai interrupting the first dance could have been a joke, the way they held each other during those first two slow dances was definitely not a joke, nor was the way Kai kissed him at the end of it.

Towards the end of the dance, Taemin and Kai hurried over to one of the doors leading outside and asked the chaperone at the door if they could go outside to get some air.

They went to sit behind the weight room, facing the ditch, and Taemin held tightly onto Kai’s hand.

“So, the stuff I put in your car,” Taemin stuttered. “Um, so, it’s not exactly snacks.”

“What do you mean?” Kai asked, rubbing his thumb over Taemin’s fingers.

“So, you know Jinki came home this weekend. For the game and everything,” Taemin started. “So, he sort of got me some stuff. To use tonight. Because there’s some stuff I maybe wanna try to do before we go to any parties.”

“Shit, dude, did you put weed in my car?”

“No!” Taemin hissed, looking around in case one of the chaperones had popped up near them. “Shit, dude, no. Jesus Christ, he got me condoms and shit!”

“Oh, thank God,” Kai said, holding his chest with his free hand. His head snapped back towards Taemin, though, after a moment, “Wait, what? Condoms?”

“And, like, lube,” Taemin stuttered, not looking at Kai. “If you wanted to - you know. We don’t have to, but, like, if you want, they’re there.”

“Woah,” Kai whispered. “Seriously? Where?”

“Where what?”

“Where the fuck are we supposed to fuck?”

“I don’t know, the back of your car?”

“What, like in the trunk?”

“I don’t fucking know, I guess?”

They were both quiet for a couple minutes, but neither of them let go of each other’s hand.

“We could fold the backseat down,” Kai mumbled. “And my mom makes me keep blankets and shit in the trunk in case of emergencies.”

“Are we gonna do this?” Taemin asked, turning towards him.

Kai shrugged, “I mean I guess, if you want.”

“Do you want to?”

“I mean, yeah, kinda.”

“Cool,” Taemin muttered.

“We could always fuck in the ditch.”

“Why the fuck are you so obsessed with this ditch?” Taemin laughed, pushing Kai away from him.

“It was a joke!” Kai laughed.

A couple hours later found Kai lying on top of Taemin in the back of his car. They had told their friends they were gonna meet them at Ravi’s for the party after they went to get booze with Taemin’s brother using Jinki’s fake ID. Instead, they drove by the beach, parked where no other cars were, climbed into the back where they had already put the seats down, and tried to figure out exactly how they were gonna have sex.

It involved a lot of swearing, Googling, one ripped condom when Kai tried to be cool and open it with his teeth, probably too much lube, and a very loud Spotify playlist. In hind sight, they probably should have waited until a time when they had access to a bed and they weren’t fucking in public, but it was exciting, it was fun, and even though Kai’s car smelled like sweat and rubber condoms for two days, it was kind of worth it.

When they showed up to Ravi’s later that night, no one even noticed that they didn’t have any booze with them. Taemin stayed glued to Kai’s side, their arms intertwined and lazy smiled on both of their faces. Taemin’s face was red before he even had his first drink, and Kai said he would be their designated driver for the night.

“You earned a drink,” Kai told him with a laugh, and he moved to squeeze one of Taemin’s buttcheeks.

“Stop,” Taemin whined, but he laughed anyway. “Shut up.”

Taemin drank maybe two whole beers that night, because he decided it was more fun to make out with Kai out by Ravi’s pool than it was to get shit-faced playing beer pong.

“Hey!” Jimin’s voice called, and he whacked Taemin on the back of the head.

Taemin, who had been straddling Kai, yelped and turned to look at him.

“What?”

“Since when have you two been a thing?” Jimin asked, his voice sounding a mix between hurt and annoyed.

“Since, like, the summer before sophomore year,” Taemin told him, moving around to sit on Kai’s lap.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Jimin asked, putting one hand over his chest while the other held a red solo cup. “I’m hurt.”

“To be fair, a total of like, six people knew until today,” Taemin told him.

Jimin scoffed, told him he was a douche, and went stumbling over to his date for the night to get another drink.

“I’m gonna kick your ass at dance on Monday!” Jimin called over his shoulder. “I thought dance dudes kept no secrets from each other!”

Taemin and Kai only laughed, because Jimin was beyond wasted at that point, and Taemin wondered if he would even remember that fake little threat come Monday.

When Kai dropped Taemin off at his house after the party, they lingered on Taemin’s porch for a few minutes while the outside light flickered above them.

“Bye,” Taemin whispered, laughing when Kai kissed him.

“Bye,” Kai whispered back.

Taemin kissed him, “Bye.”

“Bye.”

They just kept giggling with each other, re-lacing their fingers together, and pecking each other on the lips as they repeated “Bye” to each other until the front door opened next to them.

“Goodbye, Kai,” Taemin’s dad said, and the two of them immediately separated.

“See you on Monday,” Taemin muttered as he went inside.

“See you Monday,” Kai said. “Goodbye, Mr. Lee.”

As Taemin closed the front door, his dad only shook his head at him.

“Go to bed, it’s late,” he said. “And you and your mom need to take your suit back tomorrow.”

“Okay, goodnight,” Taemin whispered. “M’sorry I was out so late.”

“You’re home before 2:30, that’s all I ask for,” his dad said, going off towards his bedroom. “Goodnight, Taemin.”

Taemin let out a relieved breath and went to shower before going to bed.

“This isn’t the right coat,” the man at the suit rental store said the next day. “Or the right bow tie.”

“What?” Taemin asked. “No way, those are both what I was wearing last night. The bow tie is the same color as the vest, it has to be right.”

“Computer says it’s not the right bar code,” the man said. “But they are both ours, so you probably just grabbed your friend’s or something by mistake. No big deal, happens all the time.”

Taemin definitely did not like the look on his mom’s face, but she didn’t say anything, so he didn’t either.

The next Monday at lunch, Kai let out a huff of a breath as he sat down at their usual lunch table and wrapped an arm around Taemin’s shoulders.

“What’s with you?” Taemin mumbled, trying to finish a Latin translation before the next period.

“So did you have the wrong coat and tie at the rental place?” Kai asked, and all their friends turned to look at them.

Taemin turned to glare at him, and he muttered, “Yeah, what of it?”

“My mom totally knows,” he said.

“Knows what?” Taemin hissed, kicking him under the table. “The guy said it was no big deal, happens all the time.”

“I told her,” Kai whined. “She was staring at me for so long in the car after we returned it, I couldn’t not tell her.”

“Kai!” Taemin hissed.

“Tell your mom what?” their friends all asked.

“Nothing!” Taemin said. “He told her nothing!”

“She knew,” Kai hissed. “She knew I was fucked-”

“What do you mean you were fucked?” Taemin scoffed. “I was the one who-”

He stopped himself before he said anything else, and he clamped his mouth shut and stomped on Kai’s foot.

“Shut up,” he hissed at them all when all their friends started laughing, having figured out what happened and what Taemin was about to say. “Give me your stupid Latin homework.”

He reached over and grabbed the Latin workbook right out of Ravi’s hands, and he scribbled out the translation while his cheeks felt like they were on fire and his friends all laughed.

“Wait, when the fuck did you two have time to-”

“Shut the fuck up, Ravi, I swear to God,” Taemin hissed. “After the dance but before we went to your place, now shut up about it. God, announce it to the whole fucking school why don’t you?”

“Was it good?”

“I’m not answering that,” Taemin snapped.

“It was pretty good,” Kai said.

“Stop talking about it!” Taemin whined. “Seriously.”

“Okay, sorry, we’re stopping now,” Kai told him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Taemin scoffed at him, stomped on his foot again, and then went right back to copying Ravi’s Latin homework.

#taemin #kai #taekai #shinee #ravi #jimin #secret boyfriends au

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shadyb00ts · 6 years

Text

My Top 12 Favorite Pop Albums of 2017

Man, 2017 was a great year for pop music especially. This year was also when I started actually using Spotify, subscription and all, for the first time, so the new music I discovered just kept on piling up and I was so here for it. I decided I’d compile a top 12 list of my favorite albums, since it’s the end of the year, why not. And yeah I know the “normal” format is top 10, but bitch I have 12 favorites, whaddaya want. And even these I had to really narrow down. If you follow me on Twitter at all though, you probably know exactly what my number one album is. It’s an album that’ll probably be on many people’s number one spots, but I think I’ll do this list descending. This is also only the music that I’ve discovered personally, so if a big pop album/EP from this year wasn’t mentioned, means I either didn’t really like em that much or I have yet to discover them.

#12. BETTY WHO - THE VALLEY

Spotify | iTunes

I actually first heard of Betty Who through Troye Sivan’s song “Heaven” which she featured in. She strikes me as Australia’s equivalent of Carly Rae Jepsen because her songs are all just the completely infectious, bubblegum pop sound that I find irresistible. Some of my favorites from this album are “Mama Say”, “You Can Cry Tomorrow” and “Human Touch”. This is a great album to put on when you’re getting ready with your friends or just wanna jump around and be crazy. If you’ve never heard of her and you’re a pop music freak like me, this album is right up your alley cause it’s chock-full of bops. I’d also recommend checking out her debut album, Take Me When You Go, which has more of the Carly Rae-esque 80s-y feel to it than this one.

#11. TOVE LO - BLUE LIPS (LADY WOOD PHASE II)

Spotify | iTunes

Oh, Tove. What else can I say? If you love pop music then you know exactly why this album made the list and it probably made yours too. She is just the ultimate master of making unapologetically sexual bops. She’s always been very sex positive and seriously, the production on her songs is always spot on as fuck. I’d say “shivering gold” is one of the songs that I keep coming back to the most, as well as “stranger” and the addictive lead single “disco tits”, but this entire album is filled with solid and sultry pop songs that you can pop your pussy to any time. Tove is just always so unabashedly nasty and honest, I always love that about her.

#10. ANNA OF THE NORTH - LOVERS

Spotify | iTunes

One of the indie artists I discovered on Spotify which I’m immensely grateful for. Her music is right up my alley; modern yet very much rooted in dreamy, 80s-inspired synthpop. I pretty much like every single song across the board, but some of my favorites are “Money” which is a really cute song about warning a guy about dating a gold digger, and then “Feels” and the title track “Lovers “ which both just make me drift off into a dreamlike state every time and zone out, and I find most of the songs on this album have the same effect on me. “Dreamy” really is the perfect adjective to describe it. I strongly suggest checking her out if what I’ve described is your thing.

#9. BILLIE EILISH - DONT SMILE AT ME

Spotify | iTunes

I know this is technically an EP since it’s under 10 songs, however I couldn’t possibly skip out of putting it on my list. Billie Eilish is one of the biggest breakout artists of this year I think. I saw a tweet recently from someone who said and I quote, “Whatever ‘it’ is, Billie Eilish has it.” I agree 1000%. She’s got star quality all over her. Looks, talent, all of it. The thing I love about her songs is that her attitude is always present in every one of them. Like in “my boy”, when she’d go “WHAT” or “Alright, dude, go trip over a knife” in between the breaks, and in “COPYCAT” where she does this long, drawn out apology only to top it off with a “sike”. “party favor” is also a very interesting song since it starts off with an answering machine message and it gradually fades into the actual song, and I thought that was such a cool effect; her personality just shines through in her music and that’s what makes her such a star. I have a feeling Billie is going to take 2018 by storm.

#8. DUA LIPA - DUA LIPA

Spotify | iTunes

Yet another new artist who is just oozing with star quality. I had a bit of a slow-to-grow thing with Dua though, for whatever reason. I held off from actually listening to her debut album because I wasn’t really feeling the singles she’d released prior to it. I recognized that she had an incredible voice, but for some reason I just wasn’t warmed up to her enough yet. Enter “Scared to Be Lonely”, her duet with Martin Garrix, which I think is one of the best EDM songs ever made. When I heard that song, I was like okay let me just sit down and listen to this bitch’s album and see what she’s all about. And I was pleasantly surprised. I was surprised at how diverse this album was especially cause she explored a lot of different sounds for almost every song. “New Rules” will always be my favorite, because obviously. That followed by “Genesis” and “Begging” are just a few of the stand-outs for me. Just like Billie, I have a feeling 2018 will also be a big year for Miss Dua.

#7. MUNA - ABOUT U

Spotify | iTunes

God, I am so happy I found this group. I first discovered them through their song “Winterbreak” which I thought was so beautiful and melancholic, I had to dig up more of their songs. Even just thinking about this album gives me a feeling of joy because I just fucking love their music so much. It’s not even something I can explain, you just have to hear it really. The stand outs for me are, well shit, there’s a lot actually. As well as “Winterbreak” I also really love “So Special”, “Loudspeaker”, “I Know A Place” (which I think of as a queer anthem tbh and it is such an empowering, joyful song) and “Crying on the Bathroom Floor” (which has a pretty morbid subject matter but is I think one of the best songs on the album). Please please check them out and support them if you like what they’re giving. I can’t wait to see what they do next cause I am all aboard the MUNA train for sure.

#6. LANA DEL REY - LUST FOR LIFE

Spotify | iTunes

I thought for sure LFL would make it onto my top 5 but it just scraped it. I think when I first listened to the album I was a little too quick to say that it was Lana’s best album to date. I think I was just so wrapped up in the fact that she was back that the excitement and how much I stan for her had me caught up in the moment. I mean let’s be real, even though I do love all her albums, I think most people are in agreement that Born to Die will always be her best. I did really enjoy this album however, especially Lana’s new happier outlook and the fact that she’s a little more political with her lyrics. Even just looking at the album cover, you can tell that she’s in a much better place in her life My favorite song from the album is without a doubt “13 Beaches”, it’s just so stunning and so quintessentially her. Overall I was just happy to hear that she didn’t stray too far from her sound for this album; she’s still unmistakably Lana.

#5. KESHA - RAINBOW

Spotify | iTunes

The long-awaited comeback that at one point I honestly thought would never come. I remember the #FreeKesha movement and how horribly Kesha was treated in the entire case against that monster Dr. Luke. It made me sick how he literally owned her soul at one point, and I’m glad that now despite the fact that she isn’t fully free of his influence, she was at least able to work without him and produced this magical little album. When the video for “Praying” first dropped, I was in tears. In legit tears, because it was the perfect comeback. Her vocals in that song gave me chills, and even though those of us who are massive fans of her have always been aware of her vocal ability, I feel like Kesha always has to constantly prove to the world that she can sing all because for the longest time she was known as “the autotune girl”. While Animal and Warrior were really good albums in their own right and I have a lot of nostalgic affection towards them, I feel like Rainbow was the album she always WANTED to make, just like Joanne was for Gaga. It gave her a chance to truly showcase her talent, which people often forgot or didn’t even know she had. But the thing I love most about this album is that it comes from a place of triumph. I am so proud of my girl. I hope one day she’ll be free of her disgusting abuser and can truly be happy.

#4. ALLIE X - COLLXTION II

Spotify | iTunes

I hesitate to use the word “perfect” a lot of the time, but Jesus Christ I can’t describe Allie in any other way. Even when I first discovered her via her 2015 EP CollXtion I, I immediately described her music as “pop perfection”. Because that’s literally what she does. She takes everything that sounds good about current pop music and makes it her own. She is such a hit maker and it boggles my mind how underrated she is. I think her song “Sanctuary” from her first EP I would even go as far to say as one of the best pop songs I’ve ever heard in my life. IN MY LIFE. In this particular album, every song is a certified bop. “Casanova” is for sure my number one song from it because that production is so flawless it’s criminal. If you’ve never heard of her and are listening to her songs for the first time, make sure to hide your wigs because I’m telling you; they’ll all disintegrate by the time you’ve gone through her discography. Allie X is the real deal, and she deserves WAY more fame and success than she’s getting.

#3. SZA - CTRL

Spotify | iTunes

Okay, yes, I know that technically this is an R&B album, but it would’ve been criminal for me not to put SZA on the list. She joins Billie and Dua as some of the biggest breakthrough artists of the year. I don’t really know why I fell in love with SZA and this album so much, because it’s normally not the kind of music I go for or am interested in. But for some reason I got lost in her gorgeous voice and the insanely crisp production of the songs that I was just hooked the house down boots. Initially my favorite song was “Prom” because it was probably the most pop-sounding song out of the bunch, but it wasn’t long before I grew to love the entire album as a whole, which I didn’t expect to happen since it’s so out of my comfort zone. SZA has this honest way of writing that really cuts deep at times, for example in “Drew Barrymore” when she says: “I get so lonely, I forget what I’m worth / We get so lonely, we pretend that this works” that shit hit hard. It’s REAL. “20 Something” is another one of those songs that anyone in their twenties could probably relate to due its pure honesty. Ctrl was seriously the surprise hit of the year, and I can’t wait to see what SZA does next. I low-key hope her next two albums will be called Alt and Delete.

#2. LIGHTS - SKIN&EARTH

Spotify | iTunes

I have kind of a special connection with Lights. I first discovered her through her song “Savior” back in like, 2010-ish. I was in eighth grade at the time and it was a very tumultuous period in my life. I was in an Islamic school, I had zero friends and I was still coming to terms with the fact that I didn’t fit in with anyone and I never would. I was in a deep depression, and her debut album The Listening helped me through a lot of that period of time. While most people coped with depression through listening to music that mirrored those feelings, I dealt with it by listening to songs that were happy and upbeat. Lights’ songs at the time were adorable and cheerful, sort of akin to if Owl City had a female vocalist. Ever since then, whenever she would release an album, it always helped me out of slumps, and I became really devoted to her. I was obsessed with her follow up albums Siberia and Little Machines, and now Skin&Earth falls into that category. I adore this album, and it’s one of those albums that I have to listen to from start to finish all the time because I just love it so much as a whole. At this point I know she could never disappoint me, and she’s one of the girls I always look to for catchy pop sounds with beautiful lyrics. I love her dearly, and I implore you to go through her catalog if you’ve just now discovered her. She is a true pop gem.

Before we get to the #1 (which I’m sure is pretty obvious at this point), some honorable mentions, most of which are EPs. I’ve attached each of them with their respective Spotify links in case you wanna have a listen to any of em. In no particular order:

Astrid S - Party’s Over (EP)

Monogem - 100% (EP)

Khalid - American Teen (this one almost made the list)

Superfruit - Future Friends (this one too)

PVRIS - All We Know of Heaven, All We Need of Hell

Terror Jr. - Bop City 2: TerroRising

Terror Jr. - Bop 3: The Girl Who Cried Purple (EP)

Sigrid - Don’t Kill My Vibe (EP)

Daniella Mason - Daniella Mason (EP)

Echosmith - Inside a Dream (EP)

Phoebe Ryan - James (EP)

Charli XCX - Number 1 Angel

Fickle Friends - Glue (EP)

FRND - In Your Dreams (EP)

Paramore - After Laughter (another one that just scraped the list)

Transviolet - Kaleidoscopes (EP)

Zara Larsson - So Good

Lola Marsh - Remember Roses

Thomas Azier - Rouge

Halsey - hopeless fountain kingdom

Ralph - Ralph (EP)

Sabrina Claudio - About Time

Demi Lovato - Tell Me You Love Me

Vera Blue - Perennial

Brother Sundance - Honey (EP)

Fifth Harmony - Fifth Harmony

MØ - When I Was Young (EP)

Stalgia - NOMAD

EMBRZ - Progress (EP)

Aly & AJ - Ten Years (EP)

LP - Lost on You

Mothica - Heavy Heart (EP)

SAKIMA - Ricky (EP)

Ella Vos - Words I Never Said

I highly suggest checking these artists out. Just because they didn’t make the list, doesn’t mean they’re less good; my favorites just sorta overpowered them. Anyways, now that that’s outta the way, onto my not at all surprising number one pick.

#1. LORDE - MELODRAMA

Spotify | iTunes

I told you this was Melodrama. How could I not crown this masterpiece of an album number one? Ever since I first listened to it, I was adamant in saying that it would be THE album of the year and I’ve stuck to that. I strongly believe that it should win the Grammy, and deservedly so, because Lorde really outdid herself with this. I mean, holy fuck. When I first heard Pure Heroine I knew she was a talented writer and that was a great album, but I had no idea she was THIS talented. Melodrama really captured the depth of her ability and also how much she’s grown as both an artist and a person. Pure Heroine was all about teen life and coming of age, it was a very cohesive and uniform album and also a very influential album musically speaking, since Pure Heroine along with LDR’s Born to Die has such a heavy effect on the pop music of today. Melodrama still has some of that Pure Heroine charm but it’s unmistakably more adult, darker and grittier, and maintains the cohesive theme of the rise and fall of a relationship. I don’t know how Ella’s mind works but she writes like a dream. All of these songs are masterfully written, and her and Jack Antonoff make an amazing team. One of the songs in particular, “Supercut”, gives me a very euphoric feeling in a way that it makes me want to dance around while laughing and crying at the same time. It is very reminiscent of my feelings toward Gaga’s song “Gypsy” from ARTPOP. “Liability” is a standout in regards to songwriting also, because a lot of artists like to promote their work as “personal”, but this song and really this entire album is pretty much Ella baring her soul, and that’s as personal as “personal” can get. I’m just really in awe of her talent, and Melodrama deserves to top every “album of the year” list out there. It’s an incredible piece of artistry and I think decades from now it is going to be remembered as a classic.

#pop music #my favorite albums #best of 2017 #pop songs #year-end list #personal faves

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partlycharlie-archive · 7 years

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give me toothaches just from kissin’ me

summary: “Hey- sorry to bother you, but is it okay if I sit here?” Dan didn’t bother looking up from the chemistry textbook splayed in front of them, choosing instead to grab a piece of paper on the table and study it intensely. “Not interested,” they muttered with a quirk of their lips and a short head shake. A pause, and then - “Oh. I mean? I-I didn’t think you were? But, uh, I’ll just. Find another place to sit, I guess. That’s-that’s fine.” (alternately: assumptions are dumb and love is dumber) word count: 3,503 warnings: misunderstandings, mentions of misgendering, fluff, awkward nerds!!!

this is for snowbunnylester - happy birthday! love you lots. (this is officially the longest fic i've ever written look at me being a nerd) read on ao3

Dan Howell walked down the unusually empty street with hunched shoulders, eyes slipping over the TD Bank on the corner (wow, they really never close, do they?) and the McDonalds across the street in favor of the glowing - maybe not actually glowing, but it sure felt like it - green Starbucks sign a block and a half ahead of them. They glanced into the nearest shop window and saw their image reflected back at them: a sopping wet flower crown balanced on wildly curly hair, an oversized white varsity jacket with sleeves that reached to their fingertips, and a pair of dark red Doc Martens that squelched with every step they took.

Looking down, Dan couldn’t help but notice the color discrepancy- the left leg of their ripped skinny jeans was almost definitely a darker shade of black than their right (if that's even possible), but they supposed it was just the result of their bulging messenger bag protecting their right leg from the downpour. Which - okay, yes, the weather in New York can be a bit ridiculous at times, but. It was July. Was this really necessary? They had gotten a fucking flash flood warning not five minutes ago, and it felt like something out of the movies.

Dan reached the doorway of Starbucks and started to pull the door open, sighing lightly under their breath when the door didn’t budge. They started to push at the door instead (what the hell is this made out of, anyway?), allowing themself a tiny grin when the door swung open and they were greeted with a blast of hot air. Dan’s eyes scanned the store, noting the empty table sticking out from the wall (odd, considering the weather, but whatever) and rushing to put their bag on one of the chairs.

They grabbed their phone and wallet from their bag (they made sure to double check their wallet for their debit card; they’d lost count of how many times they’d gone to pull out their debit card, only to realize they’d put it in their bag at some point) and walked over to the line winding behind the register. Dan shoved their wallet into their pocket, grabbing their headphones as well and pulling up their Spotify. Head bobbing to the music, Dan only just noticed when they reached the counter and smiled awkwardly at the cashier as they stepped up to the register.

Black and green hair tucked tightly into cornrows, showcasing a warmly tanned face; a flat nose, a full mouth. The standard Starbucks uniform - black shirt, apron (colored a shade of green that was probably copyrighted) tied above wide hips. Black skinny jeans, cuffs shoved into blue and grey sneakers. “Hey there,” ‘Katrina’ said. The cashier flashed a smile that almost seemed genuine. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing fine,” Dan replied with a smile on their face, slinging their Apple headphones around their neck. “How about you?”

“I’m doin’ fine, thanks. What can I get you?” Dan started.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry, I’ll have a- uhm. Grande caramel macchiato, with one of those cheese danishes, please?” Katrina nodded politely. Short nails tapped at the screen in between them, and a hand reached out to Dan, waggling elegant fingers in their direction.

“That’ll be $7.50. Cash or credit?”

“Yeah- credit, thanks.” Dan dug their wallet out of the huge pockets in their jacket (holy shit, god bless men’s clothes, seriously) and pulled out their debit card, inserting it into the card reader and pulling it back out.

“Alrighty. Name?”

“Dan.”

“Alright, Dan. They'll be calling your name in a minute.” Dan nodded their assent.

They grinned at the cashier as they walked away (and so what if it still gives them a little thrill every time someone calls them by the right name?), and put their headphones back into their ears. The brunette belatedly realized that music had been playing the whole time (with the last bars of getting it on by SALES ringing in their ears), but mentally shrugged- they had a portable charger in their bag, and there was (conveniently enough) an outlet right next to their table.

Dan sat heavily in the chair with their bag on it, huffing as they did so (they’re twenty-one and already turning into an old man, jesus christ) but taking in the room with a lingering smile on their face.

They could still remember the first time that had happened- where someone had just gone along with their name and pronouns. It was when they were in high school - they’d been in the GSA club before they’d even realized they weren’t cis, but come their sophomore year they’d asked everyone in the club to use different pronouns, and they all just... Agreed? Dan had to admit, it was a weird sensation; even at that point, they had already been used to people trying to find ways around using the right name or pronouns (or even just flat-out denying them the ‘privilege’). To get that sort of thing now- where people would look at him and just think Oh yeah, that’s Dan? It felt absolutely incredible.

“Caramel macchiato and cheese danish for Dan!” someone announced. Dan hopped out of their chair again and grabbed the food, smiling their thank you to the worker behind the counter. They headed back to their table and set the drink and food on the countertop, pulling a laptop and their journal out of their bag.

One of Dan’s favorite things to do when they had work and it was rainy was finding the nearest coffee shop and letting the noise around them lull them into a rhythm - they had found that it was the best recipe for success, especially when it came to their work. Today they were hugely grateful for it, especially because they had a chemistry essay to finish, and they were only halfway through with it. Dan knew somewhere in the back of their mind that it was due in roughly half a week, but he really couldn’t afford to miss any more assignments.

Time passed, songs played, more caramel macchiatos were ordered, and -

“Hey- sorry to bother you, but is it okay if I sit here?”

Dan didn’t bother looking up from the textbook they had eventually placed in their lap, choosing instead to grab a worksheet from their bag and study it intensely. “Not interested, thanks,” they snapped lowly with a sarcastic quirk of their lips and a short head shake. No matter how many people accepted them, this sort of thing happened enough - hetero/cis/whatevernormative people assuming something about them based on the way they looked, or acted, or (god forbid) dressed, for God’s sake - that they knew how to go through the motions of shutting somebody down without showing how much it hurt. Maybe it was presumptuous of them, to assume that was what the stranger was doing, but was it a crime to feel safe rather than sorry?

A pause, and then - “Oh. I mean? I-I didn’t think you were? But, uh, I’ll just. Find another place to sit, I guess. That’s-that’s fine.” Dan’s head snapped up, simultaneously yanking out their headphones and taking in the clearly nervous form of the person standing in front of them.

Dan’s first thought was Holy shit, this guy is tall. Compared to Dan’s measly 5’6”, this guy seemed like a tower, and Dan estimated no less than 6 feet, at least. Cropped black hair, fashioned in a style similar to what theirs had been like before they decided to go curly. Bright blue - no, green - no, yellow - eyes, framed by a pair of thick and square glasses that Dan would assume were fake (all for the aesthetic - they’d do it too, if they lost any more dignity) if not for the thick and obviously prescription lenses inside of them. A black tank top with the words “MY TASTE IN MUSIC IS YOUR FACE” written in red and white; the word “FACE” is crossed out with white ink. Dark red jeans with the cuffs rolled up, black Converses with rainbow laces, a dark red cardigan that seemed to swallow them whole (in a good way?). A tall black umbrella - Dan could see a hint of sky blue on the inside. A hipster. Why is it that the only times they’ve ever been preemptively rude to people, they ended up not deserving it?

“Shit. Sorry! I just- I dunno, I get a lot of? Whatever, people are weird, but! Yeah, of course, you can sit here, no problem!” Dan scanned the table in front of them, belatedly realizing that they had taken up nearly the entire space with almost-empty coffee cups and chemistry notes that they used once and never looked at again. They blushed fiercely, avoiding the look of wry amusement that was sure to be on the stranger’s face, and busied themself with swiping their papers into their bag and carrying the cups to the trash.“Sorry about that,” they apologized, smiling sheepishly.

“No worries!” Hipster smiled gratefully, eyes crinkling at the corners, and plopped a galaxy-styled bag onto the floor, dashing away to (presumably) grab something to drink. The stranger came back with a disposable cup and a brownie (shit, Dan kind of wanted a brownie now) and plopped down into the chair opposite Dan. They reached into the galaxy-styled bag lying on the floor next to them and pulled out a plain black sketchbook and a blue pencil bag with the words “get carried away” printed in gold, scripted ink, immediately opening the book to a page full of some sort of half-finished abstract piece.

Silence ensued; after a couple of minutes of observing both the stranger across the table from them and the rest of the coffee shop, Dan let themself shift their focus back to the conclusion of the godforsaken essay they were still working on. They put their headphones back in, smiling softly at the sound of Nina Simone, and got to work.

“... which, therefore, enforces the conclusion that radioactive elements can be used for a multitude of purposes over the course of their lifetimes." Dan sighed in relief as they typed the last word, and barely noticed the series of short knocks that sounded against the wooden tabletop.

They glanced up to see the stranger with a fist poised above the table and an awkward smile. Dan smiled back and paused Drummer Boy (by MisterWives - the band had opened at the last concert Dan went to, and they were hooked), pulling out their headphones and snapping closed their laptop with a cocked head. “What’s up?”

“Sorry to bother you,” they mumbled, rubbing their neck, “but, uhm- I realized I. Don’t have your pronouns? Sorry if that sounds really weird, but I’d rather not fuck it up, y’know?”

Dan’s previously hesitant smile widened into a grin - they weren’t trying to be pretentious, but they knew better than most how difficult it was to find someone who just asked for pronouns instead of assuming. In Dan’s experience, the only people who’d ever asked them about stuff like that had been people that already knew what it was like to be misgendered - or were close to someone who did.

“Oh! Yeah - it’s they/them, thanks. My name’s Dan, by the way. What’s yours?”

Hipster started to speak but seemed to reconsider their words. “Name or pronouns?” they asked, letting out a small chuckle.

Fuck. Dan drew in a sudden breath and felt their face contort into a full-fledged cringe, eliciting a larger bout of laughter from the stranger. “Sorry! Sorry - fuck, my mind is frazzled, oh my God. Both, if you don’t mind?”

“Yeah, of course! Don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” The stranger’s lingering laughter faded into an easy grin, and its infectious nature eased Dan into a responding smile without realizing. “Phil, and he/him. It’s lovely to meet you!”

Phil reached a pale hand over the table and Dan grasped it firmly, admiring the stark contrast in their hands - Phil’s hand was so large that it seemed to overwhelm theirs, much like the jacket sleeves they had pushed up to their elbows.

“So. What are you working on? It almost looked like you were ready to stab the damn keyboard with the amount of force you were putting into your typing.” Dan flushed, brushing a hand through their still-damp hair and rubbing it against the back of their neck.

“Ha - you probably don’t want to hear about it. I mean, I’m fairly good at chemistry, but even I know-”

“Chemistry?” Phil’s face lit up almost immediately, and Dan felt their cheeks heating up again. Looking at Phil’s smile felt like gazing into the sun, and they thought absentmindedly that if they stared for too long, they might be blinded.

They couldn’t say they’d mind.

“My favorite science is definitely plant biology - because holy shit I love plants so much - but chemistry is super cool too! I loved the titration unit - y’know, when you had to mix the solutions and the identifiers or whatever? It was so cool! The colors were all swirly; I felt like I was in the movies.” Dan grinned.

“Oh man, I know exactly what you mean. We finished that unit a while ago, so this paper is on radioactive elements- y’know, like carbon-14 and stuff? Yeah, we had to look into possible alternative…”

“Hey- really sorry to bother you guys, but we’re actually closing up now? So…” Dan jumped, having been cut off in the middle of explaining of why they stopped straightening their hair by the awkwardly shifting employee. Phil glanced around the cafe, clearly just as surprised by the lack of customers as Dan was. The sky outside was pitch black - shit, what time was it?

“It's nine-fifty,” 'Theo' murmured in response to Dan's unspoken question.

“Holy shit Phil we’ve spent two actual hours just talking what the hell I’m so sorry for bothering you? Do you have anywhere you need to be? Shit I totally kept you oh man-”

“Dan. Don’t worry, okay? I don't really have anything I have to do - I'm definitely not missing out on anything, I promise.” Dan sighed gratefully and rubbed a hand down their face - who knows what they would've done if Phil had ended up missing out on something important.

They steadied their hands on the empty table - Phil and they must've both put their stuff away at some point - and pushed themself away from their chair, bouncing on the balls of their feet once they stood up. Phil stood up as well, super-cool bookbag in hand, and they walked out together after a sheepish “have a good night!”

They stood on the corner of 86th and 3rd, and Dan couldn't help but notice the way the light shined across Phil's face. Traffic was at a standstill and the neon red from the traffic light cast a glow on the man's face, as if Dan was looking at him through rose-tinted glasses.

It felt absurdly romantic, considering they'd only known each other for a couple of hours.

“Which way are you going?” Phil asked, gesturing vaguely.

“I'm headed towards the Q -” they pointed east, “- ever since they finished the line, I've basically been using it every chance I get.”

Phil grinned in response. “I feel you. I wish it connected with the 6, but we'll probably have to wait another century for that. I'm heading to Lex.” Dan pouted a little - maybe it had been a bit far-fetched, but somewhere in the back of their mind they'd been hoping that Phil would be able to take the train with them.

“Alright, well - guess I'll. See you around?” Phil's face flashed with something that looked vaguely like disappointment, but he nodded slowly.

“Yeah, definitely. It was great to meet you!” Phil stuck out a hand, and Dan used it to pull him into a hug, shoving their face into his chest. Phil flailed for a few (long) seconds before wrapping lanky arms around Dan's shoulders.

“It was fun talking to you,” Dan mumbled into his cardigan, smiling gently into the comfortable fabric.

“You too.”

Dan eventually pulled themself away, hopping subtly onto their tiptoes to brush imaginary dust off of Phil's shoulders.

“See you around,” they said, flashing a short wave. They pivoted on their heel, crossing the avenue (and thanking the god of social awkwardness that it was their light to walk) with hands in their pockets, wrapping fingers around the tangled headphones they'd shoved in earlier. They pulled out their headphones and untangled them, putting one into their ear when-

“Wait, Dan!”

They jumped, letting out a small squeal that echoed in their brain. Dan turned around slowly to face Phil, who stood five feet away from them with a hand outstretched as if he thought Dan would run away when their name was called.

Not too far-fetched, really; they definitely would've bolted if they hadn't recognized the voice calling out to them.

“Um. Hi?” Dan managed to blurt out before breaking into giggles. Phil soon followed, clapping a hand over his mouth to hide the hint of tongue slipping out between grinning teeth (holy fuck that's adorable).

Phil's laughter faded out, replaced with a bashful smile and a hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. “I, uh. Well- I realized you never finished telling me about your hair?” Dan raised an incredulous eyebrow, holding giddy laughter behind a bitten-down smile.

“Oh, really? I didn't know my story was that captivating.”

Phil scoffed lightly. “Everything about you is captivating, but that's besides the point.” His eyebrows lifted in surprise. He looked about as startled as Dan felt, and Dan felt their cheeks flush with surprised delight.

“Anyway. Maybe you could give me your number, and finish telling me some time?”

Holy shit.

What?

Dan didn't realize they'd said that last part out loud (probably with a wildly surprised look on their face) until Phil's face dropped, jaw snapping closed with a click.

“Oh. I mean? No worries? It's tot-”

“No! No, no, no, no!” Dan cut him off with a string of frantic words, shoving one of their hands through their already mussed-up hair and waving the other one wildly in the air. “Shit! Oh my god, no no no no no, I'm so sorry, oh my god, Jesus fucking-”

They cut themself off with a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose with their fingertips.

“Sorry, I just- didn't expect that. Yes, yes of course, yes.” Dan smiled, more of a quirk of their lips than anything else, and Phil perked up with a hopeful smile.

“Awesome!” Phil pulled his phone out from his pocket and Dan entered their number in, saving themself under “danny boy ;) ;) ;)” and texting an “eyyyyy waddup boi” to their number with a satisfied nod.

“There we go,” they chirped, handing the phone back to Phil. The tall man stole a glance at his phone before shoving it back into his pocket, laughing at the contact name.

“Okay, so now this is goodbye, right?”

Phil nodded and smiled again, pulling them into another short hug. They went willingly and squeezed as hard as they could, bursting with a tiny giggle when Phil over-dramatically complained about not being able to breathe, jeez Dan, you're way too strong for this!

“Okay,” Dan said finally, dragging themself away from Phil's lanky frame. They trailed soft hands down the sleeves of Phil's sweater, stopping right above his hands to look up at him with a hopeful smile.

“See you around?” The pink flush on Phil's cheeks contrasted with the green glow from the street lights. He gave a tiny nod and, after a moment of hesitation, leaned down to press full lips briefly against Dan’s cheek.

It felt like clammy hands - whispered compliments - old rock music played as high as they could get it - a breeze blowing through their hair - legs intertwined - plants crowding the hallway of an apartment they didn't have yet -

Phil smelled like brownies once he got close enough, and Dan couldn't help but wonder what he would taste like if he got even closer.

Phil smiled softly (yet again, holy shit this guy is full of smiles and Dan feels blessed every time he sees one) at the small gasp Dan let out, flashing another tiny wave at the frozen person in front of him. He turned around quickly, almost tripping over a crack in the sidewalk, and rushed back across the street with shoulders that hunched to protect him against the wind. Dan watched him leave, letting the faint sounds of a Hozier song echo in their brain.

Dan pressed soft fingers to a frozen cheek (wow, how much more cliché can they get, really), feeling it puff up as their face stretched into a giddy smile.

This felt like the start to something good.

“and my baby's sweet as can be she he give me toothaches just from kissin’ me”

- work song, hozier

#phan #my fic #partlycharlie #phanfic #phanfiction #phandom #meet-cute #;)#fluff

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softedwin · 7 years

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hitting on you - chapter 3

haha guESS who’s back and finally updated. I’m sorry it took so long. you can find a more detailed explanation on ao3 why this took me so long. I hope you enjoy! a huge thank you to @julieseven and @towonderland72 for betaing, and to @shakespeare-and-sunshine, @skamskada and my girl @isakje for being the greatest cheerleaders in the world <3

[ao3]

When Isak woke up the next morning, he had probably the biggest headache of his entire life. He could barely move or, more so, didn’t want to. He reached for his phone but immediately regretted it when the screen was too bright in his dark room. After his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw that he had a message from Even and, of course, the boys. He checked Even’s text first.

(09:28) Even: good morning. hope your hangover isn’t too bad. looking forward to today

Isak looked down at his phone comically. There was one thing he was certain of now: Even was out of his mind. After everything that had happened, he still wanted to meet up with him? Isak knew that he was good at charming people - Magnus had told him several times - but he didn't know he was that good. It took skill to make a guy stay after you punched him in the face and he watched you get kissed by someone else

(12:03) Isak: I’m dying

(12:11) Even: that sounds a little dramatic, doesn’t it

(12:12) Isak: it’s the truth tho. don’t think I can make it today

(12:12) Even: are you for real?

(12:13) Isak: no, but I still feel like dying

(12:13) Even: haha go take a shower and when you’re ready, I’ll come get you. Maybe coffee will help

(12:14) Isak: coffee won’t help with a hangover tho

(12:14) Even: but maybe seeing me will

(12:16) Isak: that was so cheesy, it’s not even the alcohol anymore that makes me want to throw up

(12:16) Even: hey!

(12:17) Isak: it probably won’t make the hangover better but it will definitely make my day better

(12:17) Even: who’s the cheesy one now

(12:19) Isak: shut up, I’m going to take a shower now.

(12:19) Even: have fun

(12:20) Isak: thank you very much, I will

(12:20) Even: ohhh I bet you will

(12:22) Isak: oh my god you are insufferable. I hope you know that

(12:22) Even: oh yeah I do, believe me

(12:23) Isak: good

(12:25) Even: go take your shower now

Isak replied by sending a thumb up emoji, then checked the group chat. He wasn’t even surprised to read messages like “Are you okay?”, “What happened last night?”, “We only saw you leave with Even. Everything okay?”, “Please text us as soon as you read this” but neither did he have the energy to explain everything nor did he want to think about what happened last night. Sure, the part where he talked to Even in the park was nice but the part where he blew Emma off wasn’t something he wanted to remember. Isak typed a short “I’m fine, don’t worry” and locked his phone again, throwing it next to him on his bed. Afterwards, he got up slowly, his head hurting with the movement more than he thought was possible. “I will never drink again, Jesus Christ,” he mumbled to himself as he was walking towards the bathroom languidly.

It had happened too often to him. Opening Snapchat because he wanted to send a picture of something that reminded him of his friends to them but it was the front camera facing him. Every time, he got frightened by himself and was terrified if he actually was that ugly. And this was how Isak felt when he entered the bathroom and saw himself in the mirror for the first time that day. “Fuck, I look like trash,” he said, squinting at his own reflection. He had bags under his eyes and he looked even more exhausted than he actually felt. Having a shower was probably the best thing he could do right now.

Isak got out of his clothes and turned on the tap. Since the water took forever to get warm, he had to wait for a few minutes, quite literally freezing his ass off (the temperature in the bathroom itself wasn’t that high either), before he could get in. As soon as the hot water hit his skin, he sighed contently. The shower was doing wonders for him and he felt immediately more alive. He lost track of time, and eventually his skin started getting wrinkly, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to get out just yet, but he knew he couldn’t stay in there forever. After rinsing out the rest of his shampoo, he grabbed a towel and put it around his waist. His entire body was dripping, making the floor wet, which caused him to almost slip. But luckily, he got a hold of the sink and cursed to himself. This day was already starting out great.

Before he left the bathroom, Isak checked if anyone was around to see him. He didn’t want a rerun of what had happened a few weeks ago when he was done showering. Isak had left the bathroom in a hurry but tripped over his own feet and conveniently lost the towel from around his waist. He had been quick enough to snatch it before it fell on the floor but the damage had already been done and he could hear a “Nice ass!” and laughter from behind him. When Isak turned around, the towel in its rightful place again, he saw Eskild down the hallway who wiggled his eyebrows at him suggestively. The pure horror on his face was replaced by annoyance and he let out an irritated groan. “Fuck off, Eskild,” was his only reply while he made his way towards his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Weeks of teasing and bragging about how good Isak’s butt looked had followed, and he had tried to avoid his friend as much as possible. Sure, he liked his roommate and they got along pretty well but he was also a fucking pain in the ass sometimes (no pun intended). Eventually, he told himself that Eskild was just jealous and he got over it. Didn’t mean he wanted to repeat the whole thing, though. So after realizing that no one seemed to be within reach, he bolted out of the bathroom, trying to get to his bedroom as fast as possible. Looking down at his own body, he thankfully found that the towel was still where it belonged.

Isak flopped down on his bed and reached for his phone, checking yet again for any new messages. The guys were, of course, spamming in the group chat, demanding to know what had happened last night, but Even hadn’t texted him again. Which made sense, considering the other boy was awaiting a message from him.

(12:59) Isak: I’m finally done. I’ll text you again when I’m dressed and ready

(13:03) Even: holy shit how long does it take you to shower You did have fun in there, didn’t you

(13:05) Isak: oh my god even, stop it

(13:05) Even: YOU DID!!!

(13:06) Isak: no, I didn’t

(13:06) Even: sure you didn’t, buddy

(13:07) Isak: I’m blocking u

(13:08) Even: anyway You ever heard of save the environment?

(13:09) Isak: yes, why?

(13:10) Even: you’re doing the opposite and unlike you I care deeply about my planet

(13:10) Isak: I’m hungover!! I needed that shower okay

(13:11) Even: are you really trying to make excuses for hurting mother earth In the long run you showering for so long will have consequences that are much worse than your minor, temporary hangover

(13:13) Isak: did you just say minor Because this shit isn’t minor And I honestly cannot tell if you’re for real right now or just fucking with me

(13:14) Even: well I am definitely not fucking you right now, considering that we’re not even in the same room

When Isak read the text, his face turned a bright red. How could Even just write stuff like that? It wasn’t that it made him uncomfortable or anything, if anything he actually kind of welcomed it. He just didn’t really know how to reply and maybe he was also a bit embarrassed. Isak probably wouldn’t be able to face Even later if he responded to this sex thing now.

(13:20) Isak: 1) you are insufferable but you already know that and 2) I am getting dressed now

Before he locked his phone again, he opened Spotify and pressed shuffle. Some song he had forgotten he had even saved started playing, but he didn’t mind. Instead he moved his hips along to the beat. He liked dancing and goofing around to songs as long as it was in the safety of his own bedroom. Isak reached into his closet, grabbing the clothes he picked out for the day. While putting them on, he danced through his room, feeling hyped. He wasn’t as tired and exhausted as he was when he woke up, so the shower had actually helped.

After he had put on the last piece of clothing, he stopped in front of the mirror and looked at himself. The dark circles around his eyes were still there and probably wouldn’t disappear in the next few hours. Apart from that, Isak believed he actually didn’t look too bad.

He prayed that he wouldn't fuck this up today. You didn't get many chances with other people, especially not someone as amazing, kind, and charming as Even, and Isak felt like he had already pushed his luck too much.

Smiling at himself confidently, he turned away from the mirror and texted Even that he was ready. On my way was the reply he got back.

When he left his room, a smile was playing around the corners of his mouth. He was so excited to see Even again and there was even a little bounce in his step. As he walked by the living room, he saw Eskild sitting on the couch. He must have noticed Isak as he looked up at him. The fact that Isak was practically beaming seemed to make him suspicious as he raised an eyebrow at him. Isak stopped in his tracks and waited for his friend to explain himself, a confused look on his face.

“Why are you so happy? What’s going on?” Eskild eventually asked after giving him another once-over.

“What do you mean? Am I not allowed to be happy?”

His friend contemplated this for a moment, tapping his index finger against his chin. “Of course you are.” He paused for a second, then continued, “it’s just… weird. You are usually grumpy. I’m just wondering what got you so happy.”

He wanted to tell Eskild about Even so badly, do some ‘gay bonding’ like he would say. But Isak didn’t even know where this thing between him and Even was going, let alone what it was. It had only started blossoming recently and he still wasn’t 100% sure if the other boy liked him that way. So he would rather keep it to himself until he got that figured out.

“Just having a good day. It’s nothing,” he lied and shrugged. Before Eskild could say anything else, Isak got the hell out of there, snatching his jacket from the coat rack on his way out.

While waiting for Even to arrive, Isak leaned against the wall of his apartment complex and played some games on his phone. He didn’t know how long it would actually take for Even to get here but because enough time had passed since he sent his last text, he figured it wouldn’t be much longer.

As Isak was focused on his phone, he was startled by the cheerful ‘Hello’ directed at him. He looked up, eyes meeting Even’s, and a huge smile spread over his face.

“Hi,” he replied just as happily while stowing away his phone.

Before Even continued to speak, he seemed to be thoughtful for a second, his brows furrowing in confusion, eyes narrowing. “For how long have you been out here?”

“Not too long,” Isak answered casually and shrugged.

“Aren't you cold?”

Indeed he was. Isak had been so focused on his phone that he hadn’t really noticed until Even brought it up. “Maybe a little bit, now that you mention it.”

Even flashed him a big affectionate smile that was enough for him not to notice the cold again. “Well, then let’s go and get you warmed up.”

They walked side by side, close to each other, their arms almost touching but not quite yet. Isak had his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket and focused on the street ahead of him, only occasionally sneaking a glance at Even. He usually caught him looking and gave Isak a smile, who looked away bashfully, blushing and smiling to himself. It was mostly quiet between them, both enjoying the other’s company silently. It didn’t take them long until they reached the café that Even had been heading for. The café was rather small and not too busy, with a harmonious and peaceful atmosphere. Isak already liked it.

After he paid for his coffee, he chose a rather secluded area in the back of the café and sat down on a comfy chair, waiting for Even to join him. When he did, Isak couldn’t hide his surprise at Even’s choice of beverage.

“Hot chocolate?” he wondered, “you’re drinking hot chocolate?”

“Uh, yes?” Even replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which it was. “Why are you so surprised?”

Isak shrugged, looking down at his own coffee. “I don’t know, I didn’t take you for a cocoa drinker. I was expecting something more… special?”

This earned him a big toothy grin and Even nodded knowingly. “You thought I was the kind of person who goes to Starbucks and orders a Latte Macchiato with not one but five pumps of hazelnut and vanilla syrup, two espresso shots and whipped cream but not that much because I need to watch my waistline. Right?”

For a short moment Isak looked at him perplexed by the detailed description and then shook his head in disbelief, laughing softly. “Yeah, exactly,” he admitted, “but you know, hearing all of that coming out of your mouth actually confirms that you are this kind of person.”

“Nope, this is enough. There’s nothing a hot chocolate can’t fix.” As Even said it, he raised the mug to his mouth and took a sip. When he put it back on the table, Isak noticed the milk froth on Even’s upper lip. He gestured towards it, pointed it out but when Even tried to wipe it away, he didn’t quite get the spot. “Is it gone?”

Again, Isak shook his head and Even tried a second time but failed yet again. He grinned amused at the other boy as he asked one more time if it was gone. “No. Wait, let me…” Isak muttered as he leaned across the table, brushing away the remaining milk froth. His thumb maybe lingered a moment too long on Even’s lip but he just couldn’t help himself. His lips were so soft . Isak could only imagine what kissing them would feel like when he took his seat again.

Isak fixated his eyes on those kissable lips but soon enough Even interrupted him as he thanked him quietly. Isak realised he was staring and immediately averted his gaze shyly, as he whispered, “no problem.” While he hoped that his creepy behavior hadn't been noticeable, he busied himself with opening the cookie that came along with his coffee. Afterwards he dipped it into his drink and took a bite.

They were quiet for a bit until Even spoke up again.

“You look good for someone who complained about dying earlier.”

Isak lightly blushed but chose to ignore the compliment. “Well, I was . But the shower helped.”

A wide grin played around Even’s lips. “Ahhh, the shower! Glad it helped.” Even winked at him, confusing Isak the slightest bit until he realised exactly why he had done it. And how could he have forgotten that part of their conversation?

Isak groaned loudly and shook his head, burying it in his hands. “Jesus, sometimes I cannot believe you.”

Even just laughed while wiggling his eyebrows at him. “No need to be ashamed,” he teased.

Although Isak was indeed embarrassed, his cheeks sporting a deep red, he smiled back. “We are not having this discussion again,” he replied determinedly.

The other boy nodded in understanding, his features going soft as he gently asked, “what do you wanna talk about instead?”

Isak thought for a moment, then pointed to Even’s nose tentatively. “How’s your nose?”

“Good, I guess. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” he answered nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. “But I told you before, the guy that punched me was a softie.”

“And I told you before that I am not a softie!” Isak exclaimed but couldn’t help laughing.

“Sure, you’re not. Keep telling yourself that.”

Isak just shook his head in disbelief as he watched Even taking another sip of his hot chocolate. It still felt unreal that he was actually here, talking to Even, making stupid jokes and laughing about them, just enjoying each other's company. Before the incident, Isak had never talked to the other boy. He had only admired him from afar and decided against talking to him because he always thought that Even might find that weird, Isak just coming up to him and starting a conversation out of nowhere. So instead, he had chosen to whine about it to his friends who probably had been very tired of the ‘Even Bech Næsheim’ topic by now but had still listened nevertheless.

Isak had also daydreamed of him, imagining their conversations and what Even was actually like. And it shouldn't have come as a surprise but this whole scenario playing out right now? It was exactly how he imagined it, with Even being funny and teasing but also attentive and incredibly charming.

Silence surrounded them again, and while it had been okay the first few minutes, Isak was getting uncomfortable. The question that had been lingering on his mind, haunting him ever since that fateful day, threatened to burst out of him but whenever he opened his mouth, no words came out. He was obviously struggling, his mouth opening and falling shut immediately after. It took him by surprise when Even suddenly took his hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb in a calming manner as if to say: It's okay, take your time. Isak smiled at him gratefully and while it did help to some extent, he still fidgeted with the table cloth. He took a deep breath and finally the words were tumbling out of his mouth.

“Uhm… I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he started slowly, quietly, unsure of himself.

Even nodded and smiled at him encouragingly as he sat up straighter, waiting for him to continue. It was only subtle but Isak’s fidgeting seemed to make the other boy nervous as well. Isak tried to stop himself.

“Why did you even come over that day?” As he said those words, he managed to hold Even’s intense gaze, surprising himself considering he couldn’t even get his mouth to work not even two minutes ago.

Even’s mouth formed an O, realisation dawning on his face. A smile graced his lips as he was scratching the back of his neck, a small blush creeping on his cheeks. Isak would never get tired of seeing him like this - all flustered and suddenly shy - nor the fact that he was responsible for it.

“Uhh, well,” Even tried, letting out a nervous laugh, “I was, well, I came over because I wanted to talk to you?” It was more of a question, as if he was unsure of how Isak would react to that confession.

Isak was definitely surprised, to say the least. “You did?” he asked incredulously, leaning forward on the table, eyebrows raised highly in disbelief.

“Yeah. Well, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to get coffee or hang out sometime and I had everything planned out in my head because I was nervous as hell. But then you punched me in the face.”

If he was honest, Isak didn’t know what to focus on: the fact that Even had wanted to ask him out or the fact that he had been just as much of a trainwreck as Isak, trying to muster the courage to talk to the other boy.

“You had everything planned out, huh? What was your plan then?” Isak wanted to know, a big smirk plastered across his face.

Even groaned, burying his head in his hands. He shook his head shortly before looking up at Isak again. “You really want me to tell you?” A nod. “Jesus. So, like I said, I was really nervous and I had been wanting to talk to you for weeks but I kept putting it off because I thought you might think I’m weird or maybe you might not be interested. Which is ridiculous when I think about it now but any-”

“Wait, what? What makes you think I was interested?” Isak interrupted him promptly. His brow furrowed in confusion and he tilted his head slightly, curious to hear Even’s explanation.

“You stare a lot and you’re not very subtle. At first I thought it was the “fucking hell, that dude is weird” kind of staring but it wasn’t. Not at all.” By the end of it, a deep blush had already been formed on Isak’s cheek and he could feel his face quite literally burning. Isak had been convinced that he wasn’t too obvious with his staring, never allowed himself to let his gaze linger for more than 10 seconds. How had he even noticed that? It didn’t take him long to realise that Even had probably been staring too if he had picked up on that. But instead of addressing it, teasing Even about it, he tucked that knowledge away in the back of his mind. It was something he could smile about and cherish later.

“Well, anyway, my plan was to come up to you, looking extremely cool and handsome, flash you a big smile before I ask you if you wanted to hang out. You, of course, would be so surprised that you could only stare at me dumbfounded and I would have to repeat myself. You would be blushing by then but say yes or at least that's what I'm hoping and I would act cool like it wasn't affecting me at all and tell you I would text you and then I would walk away while you would gaze after me and as soon as I round the corner, you would freak out with your friends,” Even took a deep breath as he finished, a big toothy grin on his face.

His grin only widened when Isak looked at him stunned. Letting out a puff of air, he replied, “Wow. You really thought this through, huh?” He wouldn't ever admit that if it had happened like in Even’s little story, he would have exactly reacted like the other boy described it: speechless that his crush was talking to him, turning into a blushing mess and saying yes a tad too eagerly. And honestly, who wouldn't freak out when a guy like Even wanted to hang out?

The fact that Isak didn't deny any of this seemed to be enough to confirm Even’s assumptions. His eyes glinted knowingly and although it was subtle, Even appeared to be pleased with himself.

“Yeah, I did,” he admitted and nodded in agreement, “and the part where I walk up like this really cool guy worked. But when I opened my mouth, you ruined everything!” He tried to sound serious but couldn't stop the laughter from bursting out of him.

Isak immediately joined him, shaking his head. “I didn't even do it on purpose!” he exclaimed, trying to defend himself. “Wouldn't want to hurt a pretty face like yours.”

“Awww, you think I'm pretty?” Even asked him teasingly, placing a hand over his heart as if he was seriously touched by Isak’s words.

Suddenly, his half empty mug was more interesting than Even’s face as he muttered, “shut up.” He could feel his face heat up again in embarrassment and avoided looking at Even the best he could. Which was hard because have you seen this man? Gorgeous as hell. Isak would never get tired of looking at him.

“But no matter how it went down, we still ended up here,” Even eventually muttered softly, his eyes shining so beautifully in a way that took Isak's breath away for a second.

“Yeah, we did,” Isak agreed quietly and bravely locked his gaze with Even’s now, not giving in under the scrutiny of his look. Instead, he kept his eyes on him as if he feared Even would disappear if he only as much blinked.

“That was all I wanted.”

Isak nodded and smiled as he drank his coffee. When he had woken up this morning, he would have never thought his day would turn out this way. Sure, he was aware that he was going to meet up with Even, but he didn't expect things to go like this. While he was comfortable around Even, he was still awkward at times and blushed too easily at whatever Even said; yeah, he anticipated this to go much worse. But what he got instead was Even’s confession, which he definitely didn't expect. The other boy had thought about their conversation when they first talked in depth as well and it left Isak speechless. He didn't know what to make of or do with this information and he wondered if Even’s imagination stopped after the first meeting. But all that mattered right now anyway was that Even seemed to want this just as much as Isak which made him feel all warm and giddy on the inside.

It didn't happen often that Isak’s crush wasn't one-sided. So far it hadn't happened at all. Isak remembered all the fruitless crushes he had: Jonas, a few other guys from school, that one guy he had made out with at a party but had then panicked and was now hiding behind a girlfriend Isak knew he didn't love and never would. Isak thought Even would be one of them. Just another boy that wouldn't reciprocate his feelings and that Isak would get over rather quickly. It was always only a matter of time. He was delighted that this situation seemed to be different for once.

Eventually, Isak emptied his mug and wiped his mouth. He watched as Even put down his cup shortly after him. “Do you wanna get anything else? Another cup of coffee? Maybe food?” Even asked.

“Food sounds good. I saw earlier that they sell waffles,” Isak replied thoughtfully. Before he could say anything else, Even was already out of his chair and said, “Waffles it is then. Be right back.”

He turned on his heel, starting his walk to the counter to order, when Isak called after him. Even stopped in his tracks and turned back around, facing Isak. “Uh, can you also get me a hot chocolate?” he inquired shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Even’s smile was wide when he answered. “Of course.”

Isak watched Even’s back as he made his way to the front of the café and ordered two hot chocolates, Isak’s waffle and a muffin for himself. When he came back to their table, he put down one of the cups in front of Isak and the other one on his side, sitting down again afterwards.

“It’ll be a while until you get your food, though. They said all their waffles are freshly baked,” Even told him before he took a bite from his muffin.

“Okay, cool. Thanks.” He nodded shortly, then asked, “how much is it? The hot chocolate and the waffles, I mean?”

Even was still chewing the bits of his muffin, so it took him a while to answer. He tried to eat faster but it only caused him to choke on it which then turned into a coughing fit. He hit his own chest in an attempt to stop it but only when he also drank some of his cacao did he calm down a bit. Isak looked at him worried and reached out his hand tentatively to touch Even’s but backtracked in the last second. “Are you okay?” Isak wanted to know with concern laced deeply in his voice.

Instead of answering immediately, Even let out another cough but nodded. “Yep, I’m good. I’m good.”

Isak raised his eyebrows in suspicion. “You sure?”

The other boy made a ‘mhmm’ sound as he took another sip of his hot chocolate. He shook his head and wiped away the tears that had formed in the corner of his eyes due to all the coughing. “Okay, I’m all good now, really,” he said more to himself than Isak. The muffin was pushed aside as Even chose to eat that one later, and instead looked back up at Isak. “Don’t worry about paying though. This one is on me,” he declared with a bright smile on his face. And while it was hard not to just give in when Even smiled at him like that, he couldn’t accept the offer.

“No, you really don’t have to do this. I can pay for myself,” Isak protested.

“Because you’re a strong independent woman who doesn’t need her date to pay for her?” Even asked, eyebrows raised, and a grin playing around his lips.

Isak thought for a moment, then looked him dead in the eye as he said seriously, “Yes, exactly.” He sat up straighter subconsciously but his posture faltered soon enough though and his laugh could be heard as clear as a bell. It didn’t take long for Even to join him, and yet again Isak considered his laugh the most beautiful sound on earth.

Even’s laugh soon became soft and Isak could recognize something in his eyes that looked a lot like… fondness. “You can pay next time,” he promised.

The possibility of having a repeat session of this made Isak smile even more and he tried to hide his pink cheeks by looking down at his hot chocolate and taking a sip. Before he could reply anything though, a girl came up to their table to place a plate down in front of Isak. He thanked her smilingly and began eating. The waffle was delicious and Isak couldn’t stop the groan slipping out of his mouth. He noticed Even staring at him comically, and with his mouth still stuffed with food, he asked him, “What?”

Even tried to hide his grin as he said, “nothing. It’s just, you look and sound like you’re having an out of this world experience. You sure you don’t want me to leave you alone with those waffles?”

“I mean, they are out of this world. But if you wanna see someone who really has a holy experience every time he eats waffles, you should join us for lunch on Monday. Mahdi is like, obsessed with them,” Isak replied, grinning at the thought of Mahdi and his love for waffles.

“Mahdi?”

“Oh yeah, he’s one of my best friends,” he explains, “he eats them every day in the cafeteria for lunch. I don’t know how he’s not tired of it yet. The lady there always has them ready before Mahdi even orders them, so he can dive into paradise straightaway.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Even demanded as he was leaning forward on the table, his eyes insanely wide.

Isak just shook his head while he laughed. “No, I’m not. I am 100% serious about this. You don’t joke around when it comes to Mahdi and his waffles.”

“Jeez, I guess I’ll have to join you guys on Monday then to see this for myself,” he responded, a grin spreading across his face.

“Yeah, that would be great,” Isak said as he continued to eat his food. He switched between stuffing his mouth with waffles and drinking his cacao. It wasn’t long until he was finally finished and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He looked at Even who had picked up his muffin again, eating away at it.

They fell in silence again with Even munching on his muffin while Isak watched him subtly. He could sit like this forever, just staring at this beautiful boy sitting across from him. But he knew that wasn’t possible and that they needed to get home pretty soon where they would part ways. A horrible thought, if you asked Isak. But looking at his phone, he realised that they had been sitting here for hours and that it was getting late. Talking to Even seemed to make him lose track of time entirely.

When Even was done eating his muffin, Isak nodded his head in the general direction of the front of the café. “Do you wanna get anything else or are you ready to go home?”

Even smiled at him warmly as he answered, “let’s go home.”

When they left the café, it was starting to get dark outside, the sun painting the sky in a bright, beautiful orange. And while this was a beautiful view, Isak would rather look at Even who was even more stunning.

They made their way home quietly. Isak longed to reach out his hand, hold Even’s in his but like earlier he restrained himself and instead let his arms dangle at his sides. Too soon did they reach Isak’s shared flat and Isak knew this would be the end of a wonderful day spent. As soon as he would say his goodbyes to Even and go inside, the spell would be broken and he would return to the real world. God, there were so many things he still wanted to tell him and Isak’s head was spinning with thoughts and a million other questions that threatened to burst right out of him. He didn't even know where to start or if he should at all.

When they came to a halt in front of the kollektiv, the two of them just stared at each other until Even broke into a smile. Isak looked at him confused, asking him a silent ‘What?’.

“I was right. Today was even better than last night,” Even explained. “And you didn't kiss anyone.”

Not yet, Isak’s brain supplied helpfully but Isak tried not to ponder over it too much. “Yeah,” he breathed, a small smile dancing around his lips. “I’m just glad Emma finally knows how I feel about her even though I wasn’t really nice about it. I mean I feel bad but also kind of relieved, you know?”

“Hmm, yeah.” Even agreed with a nod of his head. He thought for a moment, tilting his head slightly. “But it wouldn’t have been fair to either of you to keep this going, so you did the right thing. Although you really could have been nicer about it.”

Isak smiled helplessly at the grin he was met with. “I know, but I don’t think I would have gotten my point across otherwise. I hope she isn’t too mad.”

The thing was: Isak really didn’t want to upset Emma and he definitely hadn’t planned on telling her like that. He wanted to explain this to her calmly, not when he was drunk off his ass. But when she had kissed him, he had just lost it - which didn’t justify his behavior - but he couldn’t exactly say he regretted anything. Isak was glad the words were finally out there and so he didn’t have to keep up this lie anymore that was slowly eating away at him. He couldn’t do it any longer.

“Ahh, I’m sure she won’t stay mad for too long. Not at someone with a pretty face like yours.” Even’s smirk was marvelous as he said it so casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Isak’s brows were raised in a mix of surprise and confusion while heat rose to his cheeks for the millionth time this day. The other boy ignored it and shrugged. “Just use your charm on her. It’ll work.”

“Like it worked on you?” Isak had his arms crossed on his chest and a challenging glint in his eyes. His lips spread into a smirk as he waggled his eyebrows at him. Isak didn’t know where the sudden burst of confidence came from. But he didn’t mind at all because soon Even’s look of astonishment turned into breathless chuckles and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and heard.

Even looked down for a second, shaking his head, and then looked back up again. His gaze pierced into Isak’s eyes with such an intensity he had to avert them. “Yeah, exactly,” Even finally said, grinning like a cheshire cat.

After that they stayed silent, only sharing secret smiles with each other, while Isak buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Isak had to process this information. His crush had basically told him that he liked him too, that he could charm anyone if he wanted to and even managed to do that to Even. Even Bech Næsheim liked him and this knowledge still felt somewhat surreal to him. He didn’t really know what to do with it.

During that whole conversation Isak hadn’t noticed that they had been getting closer, only standing a few meters apart now. Suddenly, he had a deja vu to last night where they were in this exact same position, Even only meters away from him but coming closer and closer and Isak standing there frozen, not knowing what to do. He tried not to let the panic rise in him again. He wanted this, so why was he so damn nervous about it?

This time Even searched his face, silently asking ‘Is this okay?’, and Isak only nodded because of course it was! God, Isak desperately wanted to kiss him, feel Even’s lips pressed against his own. He tried to swallow his nervousness when they were only centimeters apart now, his heart pounding so loud in his chest he was sure Even could hear it. This time he wouldn’t hug Even and he would definitely not run away again. No, this time would be completely different.

When their noses brushed, they shared the same breath, inhaling and exhaling each other. Isak never wanted this moment to stop, never wanted the bubble they were currently in to burst. But the universe seemingly wasn’t on Isak Valtersen’s side lately. As their lips were almost touching at this point, Isak’s phone suddenly ringed. With that, the spell was broken, the two of them jumping apart, as Isak fished his phone out of his pocket.

Magnus.

One of these days he was actually going to kill him.

Isak cursed under his breath as he answered the call, not being able to keep the annoyance from his voice, “what is it, Magnus?”

Magnus didn’t seem to notice that Isak was annoyed and started babbling away happily, “We heard someone from school is throwing a party and we wanted to know if you’re in? We’re currently pregaming at my place. Please, please, come, it will be so much fun!” His friend sounded way too excited, like more than usual, as if he had already had his fair share of drinks. “And you still haven’t told us what happened last night and have been ignoring us all day. We are deeply concerned about you, Isak Valtersen. So you are obligated to come and explain this to us.” Magnus tried to sound serious and genuine, he really did, but soon afterwards Isak heard him chuckle on the other side of the phone. He didn’t want to know how much Magnus had already drunk so far.

Isak thought about it. He didn’t feel like partying but he guessed he owed the guys an explanation. So he let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head as he gave in, “okay, I’ll come.” Magnus squealed in his ear loudly, making Isak hold the phone away from himself and clench his teeth at the screeching sound. He shouted at Jonas and Mahdi that Isak was going to join them, which was followed by deafening hollering.

Eventually, Isak said his goodbyes to Magnus and then looked at Even apologetically. “I’m sorry about that.”

Even shook his head and cracked a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, no, it’s fine.” Isak knew it wasn’t. Hell, he didn’t think it was fine and he was going to kill Magnus later for ruining this perfect moment. Why couldn’t he have called a minute later? But Magnus had never had a good timing, Isak knew that.

“Looks like I’ll be going to another party tonight,” he said, shuffling around awkwardly. Isak didn’t want this to end just yet. He would say anything to keep this conversation going for a little while longer.

Even arched his eyebrow, smirking at Isak. “Do I need to worry about you going around kissing girls while I’m not there?” he joked, trying to sound nonchalant, but the slight concern in his voice slipped through anyway. His heart actually clenched at that tone.

“No, you don’t,” he reassured him, looking at him fondly. Why he would ever want to kiss anyone but Even now was beyond him.

It was only subtle but Isak could see the corners of Even’s lips lift a bit immediately. “I won’t drink anyway. Probably. Maybe.” Isak pretended to think about that for a moment and then started cackling. “Okay, I won’t drink too much. I won’t survive another hangover like this morning.”

“Mhm, I’ve heard showers help,” Even replied teasingly, licking his lips. Isak tracked the motion with his eyes, blatantly staring at him, before he shook his head to collect his thoughts again.

“Oh my God, Even, I can't believe you brought that up again!” Isak exclaimed who struggled to be serious about this. “Will you ever stop?” Isak had a feeling he wouldn't. Something that he had noticed within only a few days of talking to Even is that he loved teasing others, specifically Isak. So the shower gag would be brought up over and over again until it got old, Isak knew that much.

“Not in the near future, no,” Even confirmed his assumptions but Isak wasn't even mad. It was a joke and if it really made him uncomfortable, he knew Even would stop if he asked him to. The other boy wouldn't intentionally hurt him. So instead, he sighed dramatically like it was the worst thing to ever happen to him.

“Anyway, I don't want to hold you up any longer. Go to your party and have fun. I’ll see you on Monday,” Even said, giving Isak one of his fondest smiles. He started walking backwards, waiting for Isak to say his goodbyes. He was quite amazed by Even who didn’t run into something along his way because Isak had been staring a lot at him until he managed to open his mouth.

“Yeah, see you on Monday,” he replied softly and watched as Even waved at him before turning around and strolling off into the night. Isak looked after him, only darting his eyes away when Even disappeared around the corner. He already missed the tall, sweet boy.

Isak wandered off into the opposite direction and seeked to look forward to meeting his friends, telling himself it was going to be fun. When he got on the tram, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and got it out. First, Isak thought it was going to be one of the boys, asking him where he was and when he would arrive at Magnus’ but he got it completely wrong. It was a text from Even. (18:53) Even: had a lot of fun today, it was great. can't wait till Monday Isak smiled to himself, warmth filling his body from head to toe all over again. He still couldn't wrap his head around what was happening but it was obviously a good thing, so he wouldn't complain. His smile grew bigger as he typed out a reply. (18:55) Isak: me too. I liked talking to you. seeing you actually did help with my hangover. even bech næsheim, the greatest hangover cure

(18:56) Even: aww haha stop it, you're making me blush glad I could help you tho

(18:58) Isak: what? me making you blush? incredible

(19:00) Even: ikr haha

(19:10) Isak: also thank you for walking me home.

(19:14) Even: of course. Yeah, today had definitely been one of Isak’s favorite days.

#skam #evak #evak fanfic #isakthesnake #LOOK I FINALLY UPDATED LMAO #smoothyousef #isaksredscarf #my writing #its been like 84 years wtf

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newidaho · 5 years

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18. Review

Don’t have the time/patience/desire to read with your eyes? Don’t have eyes? Well, have your friend read you this: You can check out the audiobook for free on Apple, Google, Stitcher, or Spotify. Subscribe for new episodes every Wednesday!

26 December 2054

As far as any of the Lucid Dreamers of Christmas 2054 could report, there was nothing notably intense or extreme about their sleep state while wearing the patch. The intense dreams that had affected many the night prior weren’t necessarily outdone by those on Christmas night (though, with such a paradigm shift underway, it wouldn’t have been surprising). Of the selection of users who were open to being asked about their first experiences with Lucidity, there were no definitive conclusions about any exceptional dream or sleep state.

Ricky 2 couldn’t even remember his dreams. As soon as he woke up, he recalled something vague about a soccer match before it was gone entirely. Ricky 2 smiled—this sort of thing was exactly what Lucidity was for.

When Ricky 2 opened the menu for Lucid Dream, he saw a new option on the hazy purple menu. The icon was in the shape of a file cabinet, and the title below it read “library”. Ricky 2 waved his hand over the file cabinet and the drawer slid open, another menu rising out with a list of dates. Ricky 2 selected the only folder currently on this menu, titled “Night of 25 December,” and was surprised to see five dreams from the past night to select from. He previewed a couple, selected a seemingly safe one to share with his parents, and headed downstairs.

Ricky and Shelly were already up and conversing in the kitchen. The strong smell of imported gourmet coffee greeted Ricky 2, who was a much greater fan of this scent than the drink itself.

‘It’s our little man!’ Ricky said to his son. ‘How did the night go? You sleep well?’

Ricky 2 nodded.

‘That’s good. Your mom and I were out. Did you check out any of your dreams yet?’

‘No,’ said Ricky 2. ‘I flipped through a couple frames, but I haven’t even watched any yet.’

‘Isn’t that just the neatest thing?’ asked Shelly. ‘Your own personal television station, updated every night. Pretty futuristic!’

‘Did you two watch your dreams?’ Asked Ricky 2.

‘Same as you,’ said his father, ‘We took a little skim off the top. Just to make sure your mom isn’t having no pervy thoughts about me that she don’t want to show you.’

‘Gross,’ Ricky 2 said.

‘Yeah, I know,’ Shelly replied. ‘Well at least you can be rest assured that our dreams are both relatively tame. Almost boring, in fact.’

‘You trying to have a little movie brunch, Ricky 2?’ His father asked. ‘Because I’d love to set that up. Once Sera gets down here. We can all just connect to a virtual screen together and watch the best of everyone’s night. Does that sound good?’

‘I think that sounds fun,’ said Ricky 2. ‘I don’t really know what to expect from any of you, so I guess it will just be kind of, like, a trippy sketch comedy show or something. Especially yours, dad.’ Ricky 2 shot a glance at his father.

‘What do you mean?’ Ricky replied. ‘Why me?’

‘Bro, you just told us a story yesterday about being in belly-world.’

‘Oh, I guess that’s right,’ Ricky admitted. ‘Well, do you want to make your way to the family room and watch each other’s movies?’

‘I’m ready. Where’s Sera?’

Sera was still upstairs, but she had been eavesdropping on the conversation. The truth was, she didn’t care to make her dreams public to her family. She could see a lot of ways that it could go wrong. She spent little to no time thinking about what could go right.

The reason for the negative anxiety was partially due to the fact that Sera didn’t care to share her dream. Every dream in her archive included Jason, a Korean boy at her school that she had had a crush on since about the fourth grade. She certainly didn’t want to share those dreams.

When she was called downstairs by her parents, she was already thinking up excuses not to share with them. When she arrived in the living room, she simply said she wasn’t comfortable sharing her dreams from last night, planning to leave it at that.

‘Sera had a sex dream!’ Ricky 2 yelled.

‘Ricky 2!’ his father said. ‘She’s thirteen, for Christ’s sake. Come on. Don’t make a father think about that.’

‘Alright, well, you know it’s true.’

‘It is not!’ said Sera. ‘There’s just some things that are private to my life that you don’t need to know about.’

‘Fine,’ said Ricky 2. ‘But you all are going to love my dream—ready to check it out?’

The family put on their Lenses and synced up their views. While synchronized to the same virtual screen, Lucid Dream made it easy to choose from the dreams of whomever was on deck. They started, as per his request, with Ricky 2.

The setting of Ricky 2’s selected dream was in the middle of a snowy expanse. You could see for miles in any direction. There were scattered trees in the environment, and Ricky 2 seemed to be standing on a road. Suddenly, a booming voice came from an unspecified location: ‘It’s time for the winter Battle Royale—Are you ready?’ The Dream Ricky 2 then removed a baseball bat with nails, apparently out of thin air, lifted it to the sky, and let out a blood-thirsty scream.

Back in real life, Sera started to giggle, and Ricky looked at his son with a smile.

‘What?’ Ricky asked them.

‘I don’t know, son. I guess I’m just expecting you to rip your shirt off here, or something.’

Ricky 2 ignored him and looked back at the dream. As he turned around, enemies began to appear from all over. Some of them just happened to be in the area. Others rose out of the ground. Dream Ricky 2 wasted no time in running toward them and brutally mauling them with his weapon. The bloodshed and the reactions of the crowd were both gratuitous and disturbingly vivid.

‘Jesus Christ, Ricky 2,’ Ricky said in real life. ‘Is this really what you dream about?’

‘What?’ said Ricky 2. ‘It’s like an action movie. You’re telling me you don’t have dreams like this? Get out of here.’

The dream went on for another ten minutes or so. After the ‘action,’ bodies were strewn all over the snow. Ricky turned away from the road he was on, and the snow in front of him began to bulge up into a mound about four times his size. On the front of the mound, two large, cartoon eyes peeped underneath the bottom layer of snow like it was a curtain. Two large, cartoon hands emerged from the ground on either side of it. Whatever this creature was had no mouth, but it’s eyes were certainly smiling.

As it held it’s hands palms up, two beautiful busty women fell into his palms one by one, both completely naked. It was at this point that Ricky made the executive decision to turn the dream off.

‘What?’ Ricky 2 said. ‘Why?’

‘Do you really have to ask?’ Ricky said. ‘Super inappropriate for your sister to see.’

‘But dismantling hundreds of people with a baseball bat isn’t too inappropriate?’ Shelly asked.

‘Fair enough,’ her husband said, ‘but we have to draw the line somewhere. Jesus, Ricky, is that what you really dream about?’

‘I hardly ever remember my dreams,’ he replied.

‘Well,’ his father said, ‘it was your Christmas present. But part of me thinks that it was the Good Lord’s intention that you weren’t remembering your dreams. Jesus Christ, Ricky 2.’

‘Okay,’ said Shelly, ‘I’ll go next.’

Shelly’s highlighted dream was much tamer. In fact, it was only about 20 minutes of her playing piano in a ballroom of what appeared to be a cruise ship. The family wasn’t interested in all 20 minutes, though the unique and beautiful melodies Shelly was playing on the piano would have made it worth revisiting in a different context.

Ricky’s dream was not quite as exciting as the dream he had had the night prior. It was mostly a long sequence of him running around a large house that none of the family had seen before (Ricky included) and saying to himself ‘I love my family.’ Periodically, he would go out on the lawn and yell at ragged homeless people to get off his property. Other than that, not much happened.

‘Well,’ said Ricky when it was all said and done, ‘What does everybody think?’

On the other side of town, the Caston patriarch was asking the same question. They had gathered around their own Virtual Screen in order to watch each other’s dreams.

In Darren’s dream, he had wandered around different locations in some sort of University complex. He would periodically pull of his Lucidity patch as he walked into each building. At first, he put it in his pocket. When it kept reappearing on his temple, however, he tried throwing it away, stomping on it, and giving it to passers-by. Each time, however, it would end up back on his temple within ten seconds of him removing it.

Snow’s dream had been somewhat similar to the one he had had on Christmas Eve. This time he was floating on a stage above a sea of people, all chanting “Cho—Sen—One!’ followed by eight double-time claps. He feared it made him look like a narcissist.

Emilie preferred not to disclose her dreams. Darren hoped that this shouldn’t worry him.

Snow was the first to speak on his thoughts. ‘I don’t think I want to be gathering around the Virtual Screen looking at each others’ dreams every morning.’

‘Yeah, I don’t think that was the plan,’ his father said with a smile.

‘It just seems like a bit of an invasion of privacy,’ Snow continued.

‘That’s why I didn’t want to share mine,’ said Emilie. ‘I hardly even know what to make of them—who knows what you two would think.’

‘I agree with that,’ said Darren. ‘But can we at least agree that it’s pretty amazing it works? And so seamlessly. I don’t think it bothered my sleep at all. Did you two notice anything?’

Emilie and Snow shook their heads.

‘I guess,’ Snow said, ‘I could see how it would be fun to show each other our dreams when we have really outrageous ones.’

Darren nodded. ‘I have some strange dreams, that’s for sure. I wouldn’t have any problem sharing some of those with you two. Not that I’m requesting either of you ever have to bear your unconscious mind to me.’

‘No, I get it,’ said Snow. ‘I think you’re right. It’s amazing—I had about five dreams in the device when I woke up, and I hardly remember any but the one I showed you. It kind of makes me want to dream more.’

‘Well, it’s a game changer, that’s for sure,’ said his mother. ‘It’s definitely fun and exciting. And it works so perfectly.’

‘Yes,’ said Darren. ‘It really is amazing. If I had any doubt before, I know now for sure—this device is the real deal. It’s going to change the world.’

#New Idaho #Ben Vizy #New Novel #Writing #Writing Community #Novelist #Novel Writing #2054 #Augmented Reality #Futurism #Surreal #Surrealism #Dreams

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