#Still writing here and there I realized I hit on an interesting idea with my cellphone idea so that got reinvigorated

[bratzforchris]

Five Love Languages, M. Sturniolo

Summary: The five love languages look a little different for Matt and his girlfriend, but that's always okay<3

Pairing: Matt x neurodivergent fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of autistic burnout, this is entirely self indulgent

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I think we need more representation around here, especially for different neurotypes and disabilities <3 This fic is based off of this Instagram post :) I am autistic and have ADHD, and this was so much fun to write--if you'd like to see the same thing but for another boy, drop a request in my inbox!

Infodumping༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

“Matt, come here! Now!” You squealed from your shared bedroom, your joy infectious as you bounced up and down on the bed happily. 

You could hear the sound of your boyfriend running up the stairs, followed by him bursting through the door, slightly out of breath. “What’s up, honey?” he asked with a smile, noting your happy stims and luminous grin. 

“Taylor’s going on tour!” You giggled, shaking your hands in small fists as a way to release all the happy, all-consuming energy that came with engaging in a special interest. 

“Oh really?” Matt asked genuinely, sitting beside you on the bed. “Tell me more, hun!” he encouraged you, kissing your cheek gently so as not to get in the way of your movements. 

“It’s going to be a tour where she goes through every era,” You smiled, happily bouncing on the bed. “We have to go.”

“We will,” Matt rubbed your knee softly. “As many dates as you want.”

“Really?” Your eyes lit up at the thought of getting to experience your special interest with your favorite person. 

“Really, honey. What album are you most excited to hear?”

Matt looked at you kindly, his eyes shining with love. He absolutely loved watching how excited you got over your special interests. You had been a huge Taylor Swift fan for over ten years now, and the brunette wished that he could bottle up your happiness whenever you engaged with her music. He would almost equate your joy to that of sunshine, baby animals, and glitter. Where some people thought you were “just a fangirl” or “too obsessed”, Matt loved listening when you infodumped about Taylor Swift. The sheer dedication someone could have to a singular topic was beyond impressive and adorable to him. 

“That’s really hard, Matt,” You whined playfully, still happily stimming and flapping your hands. “I really like Lover a lot because it reminds me of you, but I also want to hear reputation because it’s just so iconic. Like the whole snake aesthetic after the Kim and Kayne thing was just perfect. But then I also love folklore because of the love triangle thing and also because it’s just so experimental. Did you know that there was only eleven months between Lover and folklore?” You asked your boyfriend, becoming more animated as you spoke. 

“I didn’t know that!” Matt responded, clearly very invested in the conversation. “Here hun, why don’t you play with this instead? I don’t want you to hurt your wrists, sweetie.” he explained softly, passing you a fidget toy that was laying on your nightstand.

You blushed as you took the toy from him, not even realizing just how bad your wrists were hurting. “You’re the best boyfriend ever, do you know that?” You asked him, slowly crawling across the bed and into his lap. 

“I think I had an idea or two.” Matt smirked. 

You began to play with the fidget toy with one hand and Matt’s hair with the other. You still felt the need to stim, your nervous system buzzing with happiness. Whenever you felt the need to fidget, you loved to mess with your boyfriend’s hair, and he always let you. The way his soft, brown curls slid through your fingers and the way his natural highlights hit the light gave you such good sensory feelings. 

“Thank you for listening to me…I know it’s a lot sometimes.” You whispered shyly, hiding your face against his hoodie. 

Matt rubbed circles on your back as you played with his hair. “I love listening to you talk Taylor, baby. I think it’s interesting.” he grinned. 

“You do?”

“I do,” he booped your nose. “I think it’s cute too.”

“Do you think she’s gonna go era by era?” You asked, still too excited to focus on much else besides your special interest. “I hope so. That would be so much fun.”

“You’re gonna have to teach me everything,” Matt giggled. “I can’t be one of those boyfriends who goes and looks miserable.”

You squealed, untangling your hands from his hair and planting a kiss on his lips. “Oh hun, you’re gonna be the most educated boy in the stadium. You’ll know more Taylor lore than Taylor

Parallel Play ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

You sighed happily, pulling your blanket closer around yourself and taking a sip of your coffee. Thankfully, Matt had a completely free day with nothing to film, which meant you could just enjoy each other’s company. These days were few and far between, but you treasured every one because of how unmasked and free they allowed you to be. 

You sat your mug down on the coffee table and picked up the yarn and crochet hook you had set out earlier. Matt sat at the other end of the couch, feet in your lap as he focused intently on his book. You felt your heart swell with love as you took a peek at the cover, and noted that it was a memoir about understanding and aiding your partner in their unmasking journey.

Matt was by far the best boyfriend you had ever had when it came to accepting and loving you, neurodivergence and all. Finding a man who didn’t fetishize or infantilize being an autistic woman was hard, but the brunette was a diamond in the rough. Like right now for example, when he was spending his Saturday morning that he had off learning about how to understand the way your brain worked.

You blushed and picked up your crocheting, beginning to work on the blanket you had started earlier in the week. You had picked a chenille yarn in pretty pastel colors, and the rainbow of yarn, as well as its soft feel made you smile. You began to crochet, taking a peek at Matt every so often. Occasionally, your boyfriend would look up at the same time and catch your eye, sending you a soft smile before going back to reading. 

The silence wasn’t awkward, nor was it uncomfortable. Matt had a way of making you feel loved and safe, even without speaking the words out loud. Having grown up with his own mental health struggles around anxiety, your boyfriend understood the importance of “being alone together” and just existing in each other's orbit, without the need for words. 

“Thank you.” You whispered shyly after about thirty minutes of silence. 

“For what?” Matt asked you, closing the book and setting it on the pillow next to him. 

You sat down your craft as well and moved to snuggle into his arms, angling yourself so that you could hear the beat of his heart. “For just letting me be me.”

The brunette buried his nose in your hair, speaking softly against his head. “I love you.”

“You just let me be and we can do our own things without feeling awkward or weird,” You explained. “It’s comforting…and it makes me fall more in love with you.” You giggled softly, a blush creeping up your neck.

Matt held you closer to his body, arms wrapped around you protectively. “You’re perfect, baby. All of you.”

As you snuggled further into his hold, the two of you fell into companionable silence again, enjoying each other’s company. It really was the little moments like these that made you realize just how lucky you were to be in such an accepting, caring relationship. 

Support Swapping ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Over the past year of dating Matt, you had fallen into a wonderful routine with your boyfriend, one that allowed you to distribute your spoons more easily and allowed him a slight break from his anxiety, especially socially. 

“Support Swapping” as you two called it was great help and was arguably one of the best parts of your relationship. Being autistic and having ADHD, you tended to struggle with executive functioning, always focusing on the wrong things instead of doing what you needed to maintain a healthy lifestyle. If you were hyperfixated on something, your mind could block out all reminders and signals from your body to eat, drink, rest, and use the bathroom. Once you finally realized how depleted you were, it would inevitably lead to an autistic meltdown because of the overwhelming sensory urges of hunger, exhaustion, and thirst. 

Matt, on the other hand, oftentimes struggled with parts of his job that came along with being a content creator. As much as he loved being in front of the camera and giving the fans funny content, he despised writing and sending emails. Nick could edit out anything that made him seem a little too weird or awkward; he couldn’t control how the recipient would take his email. You however, had loved writing ever since you were a little girl and actually took great pride in being able to communicate effectively through the written word. 

When you had voiced these concerns with each other and how they made both of you feel emotionally, it was clear there was only one option, and that was to support each other, just like you were on this particular day. It was nearing dinnertime by this point, the sun setting over the LA skyline as you tapped at the computer in Matt’s office. You had been hunched over the computer all day, filling out paperwork and emails for collabs that Matt had to do. You typed up all the notes for him, pasting them into a document, where he could then sign his name and send them off. Between your love of the written word and routine, writing the same thing over and over again was like a weird therapy for you. 

“Sweetheart?” You heard a soft knock at the door before Matt entered the room. 

“One sec.” You hummed, eyes still trained on the screen. “I’m almost done.”

“Babe,” Matt spun you around in the office chair so that you were facing him. “I love you and I adore you for doing this for me, but it’s almost seven. Time for dinner.” he chuckled, planting a kiss on your lips. 

“Oh,” You blushed, not realizing how much time had gone by. Just then, your stomach rumbled, making Matt give you a knowing look. “This is why we help each other and remind each other.” You snorted, facepalming yourself softly. 

Matt kissed your forehead gently, helping you out of the chair and guiding you towards the kitchen with a soft hand on the small of your back. Before you two left the office, though, he sneakily closed out your computer, making sure you would spend the rest of the evening resting. Your heart swelled when you walked into the kitchen and saw your and Matt’s small dining table completely laid with dinner and drinks. 

“You didn’t.” You smiled, turning towards your boyfriend. 

“I did,” Matt picked you up and kissed you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “I know how distracted you can get when you’re working, sweetheart.”

You blushed as Matt sat you down at the table, knowing he was absolutely right. “You take care of me so well.” 

Matt rubbed your knuckles softly as he sat down in his own chair. “That’s what a partnership is for,” he smiled, the adorable crinkles around his eyes that you loved oh-so-much on full display. “We take care of each other.”

"Please Crush My Soul Back Into My Body" ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

You sighed, growing restless as you shifted around in the backseat of the van. The triplets were filming their weekly Friday car video, and you had decided to join on this particular day. You absolutely loved playing Over/Under, but the effects of the evening were beginning to wear on you. Between Chris frequently changing topics to almost anything that wasn’t Over/Under and Nick’s yelling, you were starting to become overstimulated. 

You shifted, trying to pull your hoodie off since it was starting to irritate you, only to loudly smack your arm on the hard, plastic door of the car. All three boys looked your way, making your cheeks burn with embarrassment. 

“Are you okay?” Matt asked with a chuckle, but his eyes held a concerned look. 

“Mhm,” You nodded, trying not to let your frustration show. “Just a little too hot.”

“We should finish up. Nick’s second timer has already gone off.” Matt turned in his seat and stretched, trying to discreetly end the video. 

Matt knew you almost as well, if not better than you knew yourself, and he could tell that you weren’t super comfortable, despite your best efforts to hide it. Even he had to admit that Chris’s frequent change of topics and Nick’s yelling was getting to be a lot, so he couldn’t even imagine how you were feeling. Luckily, his brothers seemed to take the hint, and the boys swiftly ended the video, with you whispering a little ‘bye’ in the background. 

As your boyfriend began to try towards the triplets' LA home, you shoved your earbuds into your ears, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the window. You were overstimulated and exhausted, and the next person to add to sensory overload was going to catch it if you didn’t try to calm yourself. You were so caught up in the awful feelings taking over your body and your anxiety that you didn't even notice that Matt had pulled into the garage and Nick and Chris had vacated the car until your boyfriend turned in his seat, patting your knee. 

“You okay, baby?” he asked softly. 

“No…” You mumbled, trying not to choke on tears. “Too much.”

Matt understood what you meant and gently helped you out of the car and into the house without another word. On the way to your shared bedroom, he quietly shushed Nick and Chris, mumbling a little ‘overstimulated’. Both brothers were aware of you being autistic and immediately piped down, silently feeling terrible for you. 

Your boyfriend sat you down on the edge of the bed, handing you a fidget toy from off your nightstand. Despite the discomfort you were experiencing, you felt your heart swell as you watched Matt gently take off your socks and shoes, before standing up and looking at you. 

“Do you want your headphones?” he asked you in sign language. 

You could’ve cried right then and there because of your sheer love for Matt. Ever since you two had started dating and you had explained that you used ASL to communicate when you were feeling overstimulated, the brunette had taken it upon himself to learn as much of the language as possible. He was still rather beginner level, but it was the thought behind it that made you want to squeeze him and pepper his face with kisses. 

You nodded to his question, and Matt swiftly replaced your earbuds with better quality, noise canceling headphones. You sighed softly at the relief, standing up and wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's waist. “Thank you,” You signed against his chest. “I love you.”

Matt hugged you back gently, almost like he was scared you would break. “Pajamas?” he asked again. 

You nodded once more, and your boyfriend gently helped you into soft, sensory approved pajama pants and one of his faded, soft shirts. You quietly got curled up under your weighted blanket as Matt bustled around the room, getting himself ready for bed, but the pressure wasn’t enough. You needed something more. As your boyfriend crawled into bed, you rolled over onto your side, tapping his shoulder gently. 

“Will you lay on me?” You signed. 

Matt smiled, kissing your forehead gently. He grabbed the remote and turned on your comfort show on the television, before laying his head softly on your stomach. You smiled and sighed contently at the feeling, running your fingers through his soft, brown curls. That was one of your favorite stims, and the feeling of Matt’s pressure, combined with stimming and noise canceling headphones, was slowly calming you down. 

Over the hour that followed, Matt softly laid more and more of his body weight over top of you. He knew that deep pressure therapy helped you regulate your nervous system, especially when you were overstimulated. If some extra love and cuddles would help, he wasn’t going to be the one to complain. Sure enough, by the time he looked up at you, you were fast asleep, a happy little smile on your lips. 

Penguin Pebbling ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Matt looked over at you from his position on the couch as you giggled, happily kicking your feet. “What’s so funny?” “Check your Tiktok.” You laughed, a happy little smile taking up residence on your face as you stimmed. 

Your boyfriend smiled at whatever antics you had going on, migrating to his phone. You let out a little giggle as you watched Matt’s facial expressions change, from that of confusion, to that of happiness. 

“You really sent me one hundred and fifty different cat videos?” he asked, though his tone was playful. 

“They reminded me of you,” You whined, throwing a stuffed animal at him. “You’re the one who always sends people images of sleeping kittens and says ‘that’s me’.”

Matt chuckled as he sat watching every single video. He knew how important sharing was to you, especially when it had to do with the people you cared about. “Penguin pebbling” as it was called, was the act of unconventional gift giving as a sign of affection. Your boyfriend absolutely loved when you did this, because it was pure love. It wasn’t big, expensive gifts or luxury vacations. It was the smallest, most accessible thing in the world, yet you took time out of your day to do it. 

“Have I ever told you I love you?” the brunette asked, sliding onto the floor beside you and kissing your cheek. 

“Maybe once or twice.” You grinned. 

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @mbsbaby @herxyz @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @bunny-cotton @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniee @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @mggcult @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @not-phone-guy @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @mayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @aemrsy @billsslutt

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#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagines #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets fanfic

[willowser]

i will never stop writing bakugou as a shy, blushy loserboy, but. the idea of you being more inexperienced than him ??

you're carefully bandaging him up at the agency clinic, after he'd taken a nasty hit that left his shoulder scuffed up, and he's been in here with you more times than he can count, much too late at night, and maybe that's how you get into this conversation in the first place; weird stuff always gets said at this hour.

"no, i'm telling you," despite the vulnerability of what you're saying — despite the awful look that must be on his face — you're laughing. "never dated anyone, never been taken on a date, nothing."

and — he really must look truly terrible, with his mouth open and his lip curled over his teeth and his brows furrowed, because he can't hardly believe a fucking word you're saying. it pisses him off and he doesn't know why, just seems. a waste, for no one to have appreciated someone like you.

someone that he maybe thinks about too much, that is too nice and not funny to anyone but themselves but still laughs and hardworking and. so pretty that it annoys him.

his question comes out rough, harsh. "why the hell not?"

"i don't know," you shrug, eyes cutting to his before focusing back on patching him up. "i'm — probably too shy and weird, or something. and online dating is hard, y'know! some guys are really into the purity thing, like too into it, and some guys find out and won't touch me with a ten-foot pole, so," and then you shrug. like that's all there is to it.

and katsuki is just astounded to know this. not that he's ever done all that much himself, but all his bases have been covered, by now in his life, and he just really can't imagine anyone knowing you and not wanting to—

he realizes the irony of thinking this, like a punch to the gut. after knowing you for almost two years now and never so much as complimenting your stupid hair and the stupid way you wear it.

"well," katsuki grumbles, averting his eyes to the walls of the clinic, trying to seem more interested in your creepy, anatomy posters. "maybe he's comin'...or whatever."

"who's coming?"

"your guy, i don't know!" it's unfortunate that his shirt is off for this, because there's no way you aren't getting a perfect view of the flush that spreading down to his chest. "your dude, maybe he's...figuring it out."

"hmm, maybe. that's what my gran says, but who knows?" you shrug, oblivious — and suddenly your singleness makes a smidge more sense. "i've resigned myself to a touchless, loveless life for—"

"he's comin'!" katsuki barks and you startle at the outburst, eyes casting over his warm cheeks and then down his chest and back. finally, it fucking clicks for you, like he hasn't been finding excuse after excuse to see you every damn night for ages. "he's...checkin' his work schedule and then he's...gonna figure it out, alright?"

you brighten considerably, lip going between your teeth. "oh, yeah, yeah," and your smile is unstoppable, not hidden in the slightest as you turn to the steri-tray at your side, shyness bleeding into his own. "alright."

#WAAAAHHHH #he considers himself so inexperienced #to the point he's such a flustered fucking dork about dating anyone #and so it makes him remarkably nervous around you to begin with #and then he goes absolutely bonkers learning that you've done even less than HIM AKFHDJSKAKAL #he's PISSED like WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN NO ONE HAS EVER KISSED YOU BEFORE #NEVER BOUGHT YOU SHITTY FLOWERS BEFORE #it is probably the thing that riles him up enough to make his move because he's just. so pissed about it alfbsisjai #lmaoooooo #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: bakugou #✿ theme: pre relationship bakugou

[sugarcoated-lame]

Pretend To Be My Boyfriend? | Rhett Abbott x Reader

all of my works are 18+ only, minors DNI!

Synopsis: When a guy won't leave you alone, you ask the pretty cowboy at the bar to pretend to be your boyfriend.

WC: 2900

Warnings: not much? this is mostly just fluff :) fake dating, mentions of harassment/guys being creepy, mentions of alcohol and drinking, flirting? like one mention of sex, i feel like that gif of rhett should be a warning

a/n: I've had this idea in my head for a while and finally decided to write it (: kinda feel like it's a bit shit but please enjoy, comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! ♥

*

*

“Hey, honey!” Rhett hears a sweet voice call out through the dimly lit, noisy bar. He senses a figure approaching to the left of the barstool he’s sat on, hand freezing halfway to his mouth as he goes to take a sip from his bottle of beer.

It takes him a moment to realize that you’re speaking to him, his confused expression meeting your hopeful, smiling one. He checks behind him for somebody else, but nope, there’s no one there — you’re definitely talking to him.

“Uh…hi? Do I- do we… know each other?” Rhett places his beer down on the bar, wincing as he asks the question; it wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten a woman that he’d met in this very bar and drunkenly hooked up with. And that situation never usually ends well for him.

You’re very pretty — beautiful, actually — and Rhett decides right then that he definitely doesn’t know you. There’s no way he’d ever be able to forget a face like that.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as you step a little closer to him, and though you’re still smiling, within the newfound proximity Rhett can now see a frazzled, almost pleading look in your bright eyes as you go to speak again.

“Can you pretend to be my boyfriend?” You ask, your voice lowered to a level that only he can hear.

“Uh…” Rhett’s confusion is written all over his face, from his brows that furrow adorably to his gaping mouth.

Your own expression turns sheepish as you realize how silly the question sounds, and you’re quick to intercept and elaborate for him.

“There’s a guy over there,” you turn away from Rhett slightly and nod your head subtly to your left and catch a glimpse of the drunken stranger who wouldn’t leave you alone. “He’s been trying to hit on me for the last thirty minutes. Can’t seem to get the hint that I’m not interested.”

Rhett follows your gaze and sees a man sipping a beer and staring at the two of you from the other side of the bar.

“So… I told him that I was waiting for my boyfriend.”

When he meets your eyes again, he can tell that you’re trying to play it cool, but Rhett can sense that little hint of fear in your eyes and the worry in voice. And, though he doesn’t know you, he feels his protective instincts kick in.

You can see the change in his demeanor almost immediately, shoulders squared as he sends the other man across the room an intimidating glare that you don’t think you’d ever want to be on the receiving end of.

But, when Rhett’s gaze returns to you, his blue eyes soften and his lips turn up just a bit. He gestures to the empty stool next to his and you take the seat with a sigh of relief and a grateful smile.

“If I’m gonna be your boyfriend, then I guess you should know my name. I’m Rhett.”

Your own shoulders deflate in relief that this kind stranger — Rhett — has agreed to help you, a genuine smile now forming on your lips as you introduce yourself as well.

You’re not entirely sure what made you choose him, but for some reason you found yourself drawn to the pretty cowboy sitting alone at the bar and drinking a beer. And, you’re glad you did.

He’s even prettier up close — little curls peeking out beneath his Stetson hat, adorable button nose, and his eyes captivating pools of blue, intense in their gaze that’s now focused on you. His voice deep and rich, and oh-so soothing.

“You new to town? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here.” He’d definitely remember if he had.

You nod your head in confirmation. “Very new, I just moved here two days ago for work.”

“Well, welcome to Wabang. I promise not all us guys here are creeps like that asshole.” Rhett promises, once again glancing toward the man who had been harassing you earlier.

That draws a light chuckle out of you, but before you can respond, Rhett narrows his eyes and goes to speak again.

“Speaking of which, he’s still staring over here. I’m gonna put my arm around you… if you’re okay with that.”

Your head nods in agreement without really thinking much about it. Admittedly, you find yourself a little bit lost in the quiet, gravely tone of Rhett’s voice, that deep southern accent, and you’re fairly certain he could get you to agree to anything if he keeps talking to you like that.

Before you can register what’s happening, you’re enveloped by warmth and a pleasant musk that’s a spicy mix of vanilla and tobacco as Rhett leans in and drapes a protective arm over your shoulders.

“Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?” Rhett emphasizes the last word sarcastically; if he’s going to pretend to be your boyfriend, he’s going to have fun with it.

You take a second too long to answer, too busy trying to inhale Rhett’s scent again as discreetly as possible, hoping he doesn’t notice — he definitely notices.

When you look back up into his eyes, there’s a playful mirth to them, and a smirk overtaking his lips at how flustered you are by the close proximity and the use of the pet name.

“Y-yeah…yes.” You shake your head as though to clear it. “I’ll have a beer.”

As you inwardly cringe at yourself for stumbling through your answer, Rhett simply smirks and raises his hand to flag down the bartender and order your drink, all the while keeping you close to his side underneath his arm.

Only when the bartender places the bottle down in front of you does Rhett remove his arm from around your shoulders, and you find yourself already missing the warmth of the denim of his jacket on your bare skin.

“So, you moved here for work. What do you do?”

You tell him all about your new job and how excited you are for this fresh start in a new place, and Rhett listens intently, chiming in when necessary, loving how passionate you are about your work and content to just listen to the melodic sound of your voice.

“Alright, enough about me. What do you do, Rhett?” It’s the first time you’ve said his name tonight and Rhett feels his cheeks heat, deciding right then that he loves the way it sounds on your lips and that he needs to hear it more.

“I help out on my family’s ranch,” Rhett tells you. “…But I’m also a bull rider.” A small grin grows on his lips that tells you just how much he loves it.

“A bull rider?!” You’re beaming at him, eyes widened in surprise. “No way, that’s so cool! Way cooler than my job.”

Rhett lets out a deep chuckle and shakes his head in an attempt to protest. Bashful and blushing even harder now, he tries to brush it off – unable to take a compliment, but you’re having none of it.

“Come on, it’s very impressive! Maybe I’ll come cheer you on in the stands sometime.”

“Yeah?” The two of you share light-hearted grins and you give Rhett an affirmative nod. Yeah, he would definitely like that.

The two of you sit at the bar and talk for a while longer, Rhett buying you a couple more beers. You discuss anything and everything that comes to mind and share a good few laughs, the alcohol leaving you on just the right side of tipsy, feeling open and content – light.

Rhett only nurses the one beer that he’s been drinking since you approached him earlier in the evening. He finds himself already feeling a bit protective of you, liking the responsibility of keeping an eye on you and making sure you’re having a good time. Besides, he just really enjoys talking to you and doesn’t feel the need to get drunk tonight.

Rhett continues to also keep an eye on the guy who was bothering you earlier – though he’s fairly certain he wouldn’t try to approach you again since you’ve been at Rhett’s side for a while now, his arm once again finding itself wrapped securely around your side.

However, Rhett’s noticed throughout the night that he’s not the only man in the bar he’s caught looking at you – yes, you’re new in town, but he knows they’re also looking – staring really – because of how beautiful you are. And he maybe finds himself feeling a bit jealous.

“Seems you’ve caught the attention of just about every guy in here tonight.” Rhett informs you with a teasing lilt to his voice to make light of the situation, smirking into his beer bottle as he takes the final sip.

“Not that I want it.” You roll your eyes dramatically. A playful smirk then takes over your lips — you’ve got an idea. The corner of Rhett’s lips quirk up a bit too as his brow raises in question.

“Just trust me.” Your face is leaning in closer towards him and before Rhett can process what’s happening, you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

The fact that you’re tipsy has definitely provided you some liquid courage, that much is for sure when you pull back and shift to whisper into Rhett’s ear.

“Gotta let them know that I’m all yours.” Your tone is playful, sarcastically seductive, the warmth of your breath against the skin of Rhett’s earlobe sending a shiver down his spine and he has to fight to hold back a groan. God, does he wish that statement were true.

You can’t stop the little fit of giggles that escapes you as you pull back, and Rhett can’t help but chuckle along with you. Admiring the way your eyes crinkle up when you laugh, the adorable way that your nose wrinkles too. The skin of his cheek is still burning where your plush lips had kissed him.

Now it’s Rhett who has an idea, you can almost see the light bulb flicker behind his crystal blue eyes when they peer into yours again.

“Do you have a ride home?” He asks and your brows furrow adorably, curious as to where he’s going with this. You let him know that you were just going to call an Uber.

“I can drive you home… if you’d like.” Rhett’s nowhere near drunk from the one beer he’s had all evening.

“And there is a way you could show everyone you’re mine.” He proposes, that playful smirk returning to his lips and a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Oh?” You narrow your eyes at Rhett, but you can’t help but grin along with him, still wondering what he could possibly be suggesting.

Rhett goes to remove the cowboy hat from his head, repeating your own words from only a few moments ago. “Just trust me.”

He moves to place the hat atop your head, a silly grin still on his face as he adjusts it over your hair. You meet his look with a puzzled smile of your own, unsure of what he meant, but something within you tells you that you can – trust him, that is.  

Rhett flags down the bartender and closes his tab before lightly knocking his fists on the wooden bar top.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” Rhett chuckles like he knows something you don’t, and you can only roll your eyes in jest as you wait to be let in on the joke.

Rhett watches as you shrug on your jacket, stealing a long glance at you wearing his Stetson – feeling a sense of pride swell in his chest and enjoying the way it looks on your head – before he gently ushers you toward the exit of the bar.

Near the door, he sends a self-assured smirk to the asshole who had been bothering you earlier in the evening, who just watches along from a nearby booth with his buddies, a sour look on his face as you walk out into the night with Rhett’s arm draped over your shoulder.

Only when you’re secured into the passenger side of his truck does Rhett divulge the nature of his plan.

“So, uh — the hat,” Rhett nods towards his hat that you’re wearing and your fingers reach up to touch the worn fabric. “If you wear someone’s cowboy hat, you’re supposed to uh…ride the cowboy…”

He trails off, admittedly a bit nervous now – he doesn’t want to come off as a creep – as he explains the ‘cowboy hat rule’ as he called it, to you. His way of making the whole ‘fake boyfriend’ thing seem a bit more real to any prying eyes, showing everyone in the bar that you’re ‘his’.

You stare at him in bewilderment for a long moment, mouth agape. Your expression sends Rhett into a boisterous fit of laughter, unable to refrain, and earns him a playful smack on the arm.

You close your eyes and cover your face with your palms. “Oh my god…”

“Oh, come on. It’s kinda funny.” Rhett contends through his laughter and you send him what you hope to be a scornful pout. But there’s no real malice behind it, a smile fighting to break through as you find it hard to be annoyed with him.

“And it’s not like I’m gonna hold you to it.” He promises with a wink that might make you swoon if you weren’t already sitting down.

Before you know it, you’re joining in on the laughs, unable to hold back any longer and relishing in the humor or the situation.

Once you’ve rattled off your address to Rhett, the ride to your home is filled with quiet music pouring from the truck’s radio – though it merely serves as background noise as you and Rhett spend the entire 20-minute drive talking. Sharing little details about yourselves and making plenty more jokes. His Stetson still sitting pretty atop your head.

Despite having spent hours talking with him in the bar, you still find yourself wanting to know more about him, not wanting the conversation – or this night –  to end.

The truck reaches your little house all too soon, and Rhett finds himself not wanting the night to end either. Pretending to be your boyfriend was the highlight of his evening and he wants nothing more than to see you again.

When he stops the truck at the end of the little path leading to your front door, Rhett clears his throat before moving to speak.

“So, I — uh, I was wondering, c-could I… maybe get your phone number?” Rhett asks quietly, a pink flush taking over his pale cheeks as he internally curses himself for sounding so nervous.

You don’t mind it, though — this seemingly tough cowboy growing all flustered and stumbling over his words for you? You couldn’t find it more endearing.  

Rhett holds his breath as your pretty eyes — slightly glassy still from the alcohol you’d consumed earlier in the evening, look straight into his blue ones, and you grace him with a coy smile.

“Of course. Who else am I going to call when guys are harassing me and I need a fake boyfriend?”

Rhett releases the breath he was holding and bites back a smile, his shoulders dropping in relief. “Great.”

Once you’ve exchanged numbers, you gingerly remove Rhett’s hat from your head, smoothing down your hair.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you scoot closer toward him in the bench seat, reaching up to carefully place it back on top of his head  — your eyes gazing into Rhett’s blue ones as they peer back into yours, the two of you sharing bashful smiles.

With the cowboy hat secured on the head of its rightful owner, you move to pull away. However, you pause before you get too far, deciding to lean in and place one last kiss to Rhett’s cheek before climbing out of his truck.

Rhett’s in such a daze – cheeks flushing that bright pink once again as warmth radiates from where your lips had kissed him, and a dopey grin on his lips – that he almost doesn’t notice as you walk around to the driver’s side of his truck, leaning a bit into the open window. Your face close to his, lit up all pretty in the moonlight.

“Thank you for turning my shitty night around, Rhett.” You bite back a grin. “I had a lot of fun.”

Before Rhett can respond – still flustered from the kiss to his cheek and now from hearing you say his name again, you back away from his window, making your way towards the path. Walking backwards, still facing the truck and grinning at him all the while.

“Oh, and you’re a really great fake boyfriend!” You call out.

Breaking off into a giggle that carries in the night’s slight breeze and Rhett can only chuckle back, shaking his head as he watches you with a fond smile.  

With that, you turn around and walk off to your house with a spring in your step. Rhett stays sat there in his truck until he sees you make it through your front door safely, and he’s absolutely beaming.

Rhett's going to call you first thing tomorrow. He hopes that he can turn this ‘fake’ boyfriend situation into something real.

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Thank you for reading! x

taglist: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91  @memoriesat30  @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 ♥

also tagging a few people that I think may enjoy/liked my last rhett fic ♥ : @roleycoleyreccenter @sunlightmurdock @rhettabbotts @mothdruid @lewmagoo @foreverrandomwritings @pillow-titties @sobshoney

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#rhett abbott #outer range #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott imagine #lewis pullman #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott one shot #my writing

[eustasskidagenda]

anon asked: Hi sweetie, My brain just can't get over the idea of Kid being pegged, I mean, everything is so 'grabable" on his body. So could you write an OS or drabble about this? With a female reader. Maybe Kid would have that kink after a certain time in their relationship, according to your NSFW alphabet. With maybe some overstimulation, hair pulling and spanking as additional kinks? And if it's possible, could you write this with Kid being pegged for the first time? I think it's can be interesting! Last, please, can you write him as extra tough/bratty but his attitude breaks bc he can't handle how good it feels. I hope my request was understandable, I don't know how to explain myself properly. Tysm for your time and anon please

Hi! Well, that was an interesting request! And you’re so damn right, Kid's body is so grabbable. It was quite fun to write, Kid is such a brat, I love him so much :D Sorry for the long wait (my back is still injured) and thank you for requesting, I hope I did the job correctly :D ☆

☆Eustass Kid getting pegged for the first time

CW : MDNI, smut, f!reader, pegging, overstimulation, hair pulling, spanking, praises (bc Kid lives for praises), established relationship, Kid has a filthy mouth, Kid is a big brat, kind of virginity loss kink I guess (?), fingering & oral sex (Kid receiving), dirty talk, rough sex

WC : around 4K. I know it's really long, but I wanted to develop a bit Kid's mindset. Hope you don't mind the length!`

Kid is everything, but not submissive. It's written on his face, and the moment you met him, you immediately knew that he would always be in control of absolutely everything. Including in the bedroom. And you never tried to change that, because Kid knows what he's doing. You crave the sensations of his hands gripping your waist and his huge body pressing against yours. However, in the back of your mind, a fantasy always refused to leave your spirit. Your giant, hot-headed boyfriend, moaning and begging while you fuck him. So, once, you tried to talk him about pegging, and you earned nothing, but a dark, mad scowl and a "no" yelled loudly."I'm not a wimp, y/n, no one will ever fuck me. I ain't no bottom bitch." That's what he said. And you know Kid is a stubborn mess, so you never tried to bring the subject up again.

It was five years ago. 

Your mind is still filled with this fantasy. So, a few days ago, you tried again to convince your stubborn boyfriend. It was in the middle of a passionate make-out session, and you caught him off-guard. Initially, you believed that he would yell at you once more. However, he simply scowled and frowned. "You're so goddamn stubborn, I thought you would forget about this stupid idea." And then, he shrugged. "You better take the bigger size, I'm not a fucking pussy." 

You still don't realize that he actually said 'yes'. In his language, with a lot of cursing and arrogance, but he did accept. It took him five years to gain sufficient trust in you. What a challenge. That's what you think as you relax on the huge bed and read a book that Kid stole for you. You're waiting for him, actually. Kid is probably locked in his workshop, working on some random weapon or new arm improvement. 

Suddenly, the door hits the wall. "You're not sleeping yet?" He asks, closing the door behind him. He's still wearing his goggles and his lips are painted with your favorite red lipstick. And on his skin, some stains of oil. "Gonna take a shower, I'll be right back soon." You laugh softly. "Fine, but don't remove your makeup yet." He mutters 'I don't take orders from anyone' before slamming the door once more.

When he comes back with make-up still on his face, you can't help but smile. He listened to you. Locking the door with a kick, Kid drops his heavy coat on the ground, cracks his neck, and crawls on the bed. He immediately wraps his hands around your waist. "Come here. I want to fuck my pretty girlfriend." He sits you on his lap and holds your hips firmly. As he smears his lipstick on your neck, you shudder and put your face against his neck. Kid slides his hand and firmly gropes your ass. "Mine," he growls, squeezing your bottom. "I want to see that pretty ass, undressed and get on all fours," 

You raise an amused eyebrow. "No, I won't." He scowls, irritated by your teasing expression. You roam your hands along Kid's broad chest. "You're the one getting on all fours this time." He scoffs. A low chuckle rumbles up from his chest as he gazes at you. "You're being feisty tonight?" He squeezes your ass tighter. "No. I didn't forget what you said. I chose the larger size. So, will you let me fuck you?" 

Totally flushed, Kid scoffs once more. "Goddam, y/n" You can almost see the gears of his brain working quickly. "Why are you so obsessed with this thing?" He groans, still holding your cheeks and squeezing them like if it were a stress ball. "Because you're hot. And you know where your prostate is, right, Eustass?" Kid scowls at you. "I'm not stupid, y/n." You gently touch the corner of his lips with a kiss. "So let me pleasure you." 

You take off his goggles and his red hair falls free on his forehead. He's as beautiful and fierce as ever, gazing at you with his amber eyes. He forces you to sit on his lap while he thinks. And his laps make quite a beautiful throne to sit on. Your heart is racing and you're hoping Kid won't change his mind. You need to see that large, massive body, shivering under your touch. There's something so exciting about the idea of fucking such a big, tough, and rude man as Kid. "Y/n, I swear on everything I have: if you ever try to tell to anyone what I'm about to do… I'll fucking kill you. And I'm not even kidding."

Damn, you know he's not kidding.

Kid cares way too much about his reputation. He's so touchy and sensitive whenever someone tries to deny his status or powers. So, abandoning his dominant position is not easy for his stubborn mind. He must really cares about you. Your dear captain only knows the hard way. His strong spirit was the only thing he had as a poor child, when he used to fight for almost everything. That's why he toughens up so much. Right now, he seems much more human. There's a hint of anxiety in his eyes. Maybe he loves you, but people have betrayed him so many times, he can't help but be a bit distrustful. "Eustass, I won't tell anyone, even Killer. It's between you and me, I swear. " Kid sighs deeply. " Goddam woman… fine." 

Relieved, you kiss his lips softly. As a punk, Kid always craved for non-conformism. You noticed really soon that he was always curious to try things considered 'weird' by society. But you never thought he would let you peg him. Your heart is brimming with excitement, pride, and impatience. You squirm to escape the strong grasp of your boyfriend and reach for the nightstand .Kid watches closely as you grab the lube and the strap-on. You didn't lie; you chose the larger size. Kid glances at the toy for a long moment, but remains quiet. 

"Alright, come here and lie back." Immediately, Kid raises an eyebrow. "You want me to take orders from you? Ain’t no fucking way" Ah yes. Kid. Constantly bratty and hot-headed. "Come on, Eustass." You gently try to push him on his back, but he doesn't move, struggling with his inner thoughts. "Let me pleasure you." As you press your palms harder against his chest, he snarls and eventually lies back, completely tensed. You reach for his belt and he pushes your hand. "I can do that myself," he grunts, taking off his shirt, unbuckling his belts and unbuttoning his pants. 

Damn, what a sight to watch at Eustass Kid's naked body. Muscular shoulders, broad and toned chest, abs as hard as the stone, big and grabbable thighs, and that perfect muscular, round booty. "Your name is so accurate, Eust-ass", you laugh as his face turns as red as his hair. "Shut up and do your fucking job," he barks aggressively. He's trying to hide his flustered state. How cute.

Your hand reaches for his already hard cock and you firmly wrap your hands around the thick girth. Kid bucks his hips, eager for more friction. "You're so hard. Are you actually turn on by the situation?" His cock twitches in your palms. "You know what? You should shut the fuck up. Why won't you suck my cock?" He grins and grabs your hair. Damn, even now, he can't help but give your orders. Kid smirks as you comply, content with himself. "That's it, take it all." His cock is throbbing with needs as he pushes deeper down your throat. You can already taste his pre-cum in your mouth.

You keep sucking him while reaching for the lube, spreading it on your fingers, and guiding your fingers against his tight hole. Kid tenses automatically. "Just do it, I'm not a pussy," he mutters. With a wet sound, you remove his cock from your mouth. "Eustass, just to be sure: have you already been fucked in the ass before?" 

Now, even his neck is red. "Hell no. Do I fucking look like a guy who likes being fucked all the fucking days?" He snarls, his pride stinging. His thoughts are filled with lust as he feels your hands on him, making his heart race. "Now what?" You don't answer and continue to run your hands along his muscular thighs, grabbing them to widen his legs. "You're so pretty for me." Kid lets out a low, growling sigh, his cock twitching with the need. "Don't call me pretty. And fuck me, I'm dying of impatience" 

"Fine, fine. You're needy." You gently tease him, spreading his ass cheeks to take a look at this hole clenching around nothing. Eustass tenses under your touch. "Don't fucking look at my ass like that" he growls, squirming nervously. "Why not?" You whisper, kissing his inner thighs and squeezing his muscular flesh. With your lips, you trace all of his scars and curves. "Because I'm not some fucking object for you to gawk at!" Kid roars, shoving your hands away from his ass. "Now, are you going to fuck me or what?"

You can't help but chuckle. He's such a hot-headed mess. Even more stubborn, yelling and aggressive than usual. Your poor boyfriend is really flustered and turned-on by this situation. The unknown is something he finds unpleasant because he can't control it. "Don't worry, I'll fuck you soon. Let me prepare and stretch you first." You're rubbing your fingers against his entrance, as you say. "Prepare me?" He sneers, his voice thick with disbelief and irritation. "I'm not some delicate flower" He continues to protest, but his heart is racing at the thought of being filled with the massive strap you choose. "Stop being so bratty." You sigh, apply more lube to your fingers, and spread it on Kid's entrance. " Just breathe and relax for me." You gently push two lubricate fingers inside him. His warmth and tightness immediately surround you. With a shiver, Kid groans and grabs the bedsheets. His head, neck, and shoulders are all flushed. 

Kid groans as you keep teasing the tip of his cock with your free hand. The double-stimulations is too much for his body to handle. You gently push your fingers deeper, savoring your boyfriend's low grunts and how he clenches around you. So needy already. "You're doing okay, babe?" You ask teasingly, curling your fingers and rubbing his prostate. Kid grabs the bedsheets tightly. Right now, he looks so vulnerable; he doesn't have his prosthetic arm. Just his bare body covered with scars and his big thighs trembling crazily. "Don't call me 'babe'" he grunts, bucking his hips against your hands, eager for more of your touch. It's almost hilarious how hard he tries to hide the moans of pleasure that threaten to escape his lips. "Look like you're enjoying yourself" you tease, stimulating his prostate. "Fuck!" Kid groans, his body arching off the bed. "Just get it over with, I can't get much fore of your goddamn teasing!" he growls, his voice laced with need. 

Eustass 'Captain' Kid is finally begin to break down.

That is so fascinating to watch such a big and scary man, so needy and almost begging for more. Begging to actually be fucked. You continue to finger him and he yells, his eyes rolling back in his head as the sensation shot straight to his cock. The pre-cum is leaking onto your fingers and his stomach as his member throbs in your hand. Kid's body trembles, betraying his arousal despite his best efforts to maintain control and the tough boy-attitude. "Just fuck me," he growls impatiently. 

"Okay. Then, get on your hands and knees." You demand, taking your fingers off. "No." 

"Why, no?" 

He frowns. Of course. He won't obey. No one can commands the great Eustass "Captain" Kid. You sigh, half-amused and half-annoyed by his stubbornness. Despite his dislike for orders, what if you simply guide him with your hands? Perhaps he will comply. Holding his hips with firm yet gentle hands, you attempt to roll him onto his stomach. But you can't move his big, heavy body if he's not willing to obey. Kid glances at you for a long time, and when you finally break the eye contact, he huffs and rolls on his stomach. Your heart is racing at the sight of his muscular back. Some scars are running down his spine. Both the small of his back and his ass are incredibly juicy. You can feel yourself becoming increasingly wet as you imagine the moment you will finally fuck him and drive him crazy. 

Still with your hands, you try to move him on all fours. Kid growls and arches his back. But he can't really stay on all fours with his missing arm, so he ends up with his head buried in the pillow and his ass perfectly raised in your direction. The position he's in is so helpless and vulnerable that it makes your throat feel a bit dry. He must really trust you to be so exposed. "You can breath at least?" He turns his head. "Of course I can, just fuck me."

He glances across his shoulders as you put on your strap-on and spread some lube on the fake cock. Kid asked for it to be both large and long, and it is. His spirit of competition is quite amusing, but you hope he'll be fine. You give a playful spank to Kid's amazing, muscular ass and enjoy the nice jiggling. It's only fair to give him a light spanking because it's his favorite activity when you're on all fours.

By pressing on the small of his back, you force him to bend more, enough to spread his ass cheeks without your hands. Then, you gently rub the cockhead of the toy against his tight entrance. Kid eyes roll back in his head as he feels the cold rubber head pressing against his hole. "Hurry up and fuck me, damn it! He grumbles with a voice full of desire and impatience. His cock throbbing between his legs shows that he's ready. "Just relax and let me in," your orders before starting to push the massive toy inside him. "Fuck", Kid hisses out between clenched teeth, his body shuddering from the intrusion. He tries to manage his breathing, and he feels the thick head of the dildo stretching his entrance further. "Shit…" he cries out, as the cockhead finally passes his tight ring of muscles. His body instinctively fights back. You soothe him with one hand while gripping his hips firmly with the other. "Just breathe, Eustass. You're doing so good. Just a little more and it will all be inside. " Kid grabs the bedsheets with his hand, his whole body shaking and covered in a slight coat of sweat. As Kid finally relaxes, you manage to push the big toy deeper into him.  "You're taking me so well, Eustass." You purr, watching the thick girth of the strap sink completely inside him, stretching his ass widely. "That shit is so fucking big," he groans out, his body shaking with the sensation of being filled so deeply. His ass walls are tightly clamped around the toy. "That's what you wanted" you laugh playfully, squeezing his ass. You can’t believe you’re finally filling him up to the hilt.

"Shit! I know. Just fuck me, I can handle it." Even as it overwhelms his senses, he cannot deny the pleasure that surges through him. Seeing him with a completely flustered face would be wonderful, but you know that he's probably more comfortable that way, with you taking him from behind. If you are unable to see his expressions, he may be more willing to let it go and indulge in the pleasure.

Your entire body is aching. It's too much for you. Kid is so perfect, so pretty, on all fours for you. His muscular body offers to your hands and thrusts. You had no idea that he would allow you to realize one of your most significant fantasies. Now, you have to take good care of him and prove to him how good it can be to be fucked. Maybe he will accept to do it again if he's convincing enough.

You gently start to thrust, sliding in and out with ease thanks to all the lube. The amount of lube is making some wet, obscene sounds with each thrust. Kid grunts, almost moans and tries to hide it behind a curse word as you move your hips. Your hands move from his waist to his ass, and you grab it firmly. You spank the firm flesh playfully. "So perfect" you whisper while thrusting. Kid groans lowly as you continue to plunge the toy into his ass. "You look so beautiful when I’m inside you." Kid sighs. "Can you stop babbling and actually starts to fuck me for real?" He tries to keep his moans under control, his teeth tightening tightly. 'Fuck," he mutters, his voice thick with need and desire. " Damn Eustass, you're taking me so well. You're so beautiful, I-"

" Harder " Kid grunts, silencing you. " I can take it, fuck me harder." You give another spanking to his ass, which slowly turns red. Kid bites the bedsheets, smearing his lipstick everywhere on the pillow and on the mattress. As you speed up your thrusts, Kid bites the bedsheets more firmly to muffle his moans. The sensations are too intense, the pleasure is too overwhelming for his poor mind. He can't think clearly, and is slowly starting to lose his tough-guy attitude. It's tempting to tease him about his pretty, husky moans. He's such a whimpering mess. But you shut up. It's obvious to you that he would feel mocked and humiliated. And you want him to trust you. It's beautiful to watch him indulge in a new world of sensations. With each hard thrust, the inner ring of the strap grinds against your clit, and you moan as well, digging your nails into Kid's ass. "You should see how your hole is swallowing all of me." The mind totally dizzy, your boyfriend doesn't react and just bucks his hips, eager for more friction, more roughness. "Yeah yeah i get it; you love my ass. Just fuck me harder," he begs again impatiently. His body is trembling as his mind still tries to fight against the pleasure washing over him. His cock twitch violently, releasing pre-cum as it throbs in response to your thrusts. "Fuck," he repeats, moaning. Burying his head in the pillow, he bites it. You know, his lipstick is probably all over the white bedsheets. You spank his ass playfully, speeding up your thrusts. "Damn, you were right Eustass, you're taking me so well. You like how wide it stretches you?"

The slapping sounds of the skin fill the room as Kid turns into a whimpering, almost whiny mess. It's difficult for him to handle how good you're stretching him and how nice the toy is rubbing his prostate. You continue to thrust, chasing your own highs. The rubber ring is stimulating your clit just nice, not to mention the amazing view of your boyfriend on all fours and at your mercy. The fake balls of the toy slaps against Kid’s balls. With one hand, you still hold his hips firmly. With the other, you pull on his hair, fucking him deeper. His face is completely red, his eyes are almost wet, and his lipstick is smeared on his chin and cheek. Amazed by this sight, your pussy ache in need. You already know how beautiful Kid looks when he can't handle how tight your cunt is. But that. It's beyond all expectations. The slight pain from his hair being pulled and his ass being spanked only add to his arousal, his cock throbbing with need. All he can mutter is a long, long strand of'shit' and 'fuck'. 

Kid buries his head back in the pillow after you release his head. His ass is red from both your spanking and the roughness of your hips when slamming against his. Amazed by the way his body is completely swallowing the toy, you too moan. You reach for his chest, squeezing his large tiddies. Your breast bounces crazily with each hard thrust and Kid's body just jolts of pleasure. You know he won't take much more. So you reach for his cock and as soon as you touch it, Kid cum violently, arching his back, curling his toes and making a mess on the bedsheets. The pleasure just washes over him. But you don't stop, still chasing your own highs. "Fuck!" Kid groans again, his body shuddering from the intense release. His massive frame falls stomach-first on the bed. The friction between his sensitive cock and the mattress is causing him to squirm and jerk. "Damn, Y/N!" He grips the bedsheets more tightly and pants heavily. The way you're overstimulating his sensitive walls and prostate is too much to handle.

"Almost there", you whisper, and finally, you feel the pleasure running through your veins. Your loud boyfriend can't help but cum once more, his eyes rolling back in his head, short-circuited by his second orgasm. You continue to give him some sloppy thrusts, making him squirm and cry out. "You're amazing," you whisper before finally pulling out the toy carefully. With a loud 'plop', you completely pull out the toy, leaving Kid with a gaping hole.

'You're okay?' You whisper, stroking his back gently and playing with his hair. "Hmph. That wasn't that bad" he admits, his chest heaving up and down. Your fierce boyfriend struggles to glance at you and keeps his head buried in the pillow. Despite the intense pleasure he'd just had, his pride is swollen. You gently kiss his lower back, leaving a trail of kissing along his spine. "You were amazing… so beautiful and perfect for me…" Kid grunts slowly. At the moment, he only needs praises. He cannot deny how good it was. And his mind is tortured. What does it mean? Is he still the same for you? Does he look less manly now? Or cruel, maybe? Ashamed, Kid slowly manages to relax as you keep praising him. "You're alright?" You ask, kissing his neck. "Yeah." He grumbles, still trying to catch his breath, and finally rolls onto his back. You take off the strap-on and leave the bedroom, just for a moment. When you came back with a wet cloth, Kid didn't move at all. Without any words, you clean him. "Are you hurt anywhere?" He shakes his head. "No. I fucking lost my arm, I can handle having my ass pounded, damn." He groans. "Alright, alright. Just move your ass then, let me change the bedsheets."

Kid struggles to comply, barely standing up on his shaking legs. After you're finished, he returns to his bed. "Are you joining me or what?" With a chuckle, you comply, pressing your naked body against his. Kid wraps his hand tightly around your waist. "I love you, Eustass" you whisper close to his ear. The confession brings his heart racing. "Of course you love me." 

He rolls on his side in silence. You know exactly what he wants, so you wrap your arms around his large body. "My big boy loves to be the little spoon," you laugh and he grunts a 'shut up'. 

His hand reaches for yours and intertwined your fingers. 

"Why are you smiling?" Kid asks as he feels you smile against his back. "Nothing." 

You're just so proud of your stubborn, hot-headed boyfriend. And proud of how your relationship just evolved. Kid is always hard to understand and you never know if he loves you, but those kind of moments… it eases all your doubts. You're overjoyed to have the chance to see the vulnerable, human Kid. He can sleep comfortably. You won't tell anyone about it; it was too precious, you want to keep it to yourself. 

"Alright, just smile then, he grumbles", still holding your hand.

#one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #one piece requests #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid headcanons #eustass kid x y/n #eustass kid x you #eustass kid imagine #eustass kid #one piece smut #eustass kid smut #eustass captain kidd #eustass kidd x reader #kidd x reader #one piece writing #one piece fanfiction

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Hey!

It would be lovely if you could write a Remus x fem reader, who sleeptalks and confesses after a long night studying in the commonroom.

this was sooooo sweet! 🥰 I am so happy Remus is my first 2024 story cause I loved how this turned out Warnings: none, this is pure fluff; reader talks in her sleep Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter 😁 gif isn’t mine 😊

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Sleep-Talking

"Oh, come on! Just tell us already!" Sirius kept pestering you.

"Sirius, just drop it!" you repeated.

Sirius was currently lying upside down on the sofa behind you as you and Remus tried to study in the Common Room. James and Peter were sitting by the window, James playing with the Snitch as he laughed softly. They all knew that you talked in your sleep and Lily had recently told them that you mentioned one of them a few nights ago but she didn't tell them who. Although James had a pretty good idea and it wasn't Sirius.

"C'mon, love" he said, smirking at you. "We all know it was me, so just, admit it already" he said.

"You got me. Yes, Sirius. I had a dream that I you kept asking me stupid questions, so I punched you" you smirked back at him, making the other three laugh and Sirius' smirk drop.

"You're not funny when you do that" he glared at you.

"And you're not funny when you do that" you said, going back to your book.

"Was it about Prongs?"

"Sirius!"

"Pads, just drop it" Remus added, sighing as he tried to concentrate on his Transfiguration book.

"I just find it weird that she won't tell us? I mean, what's with all the secrets, love? What's the harm in letting us know you had a dream about one of us?" he asked, turning around before realization hit him. He slid off the sofa and was now fully sitting on the floor, next to you his arm behind you as his smirk was back on. "Hold on a second" he said, moving closer to you. "What was your dream about?"

Your eyes widen a little and you could feel your cheeks burning. You hoped Sirius didn't notice the smudge you made on your book while writing. But Remus did.

"Uh-"

"Oh, Merlin" Sirius laughed as James and Peter suddenly found the conversation very interesting. "I knew it! That's why you don't want us to know, isn't it? It wasn't a very innocent dream, was it, love?"

"Alright, Sirius, that's enough" Remus said, glaring at his friend. "We are trying to study here. If you three aren't even going to pretend to care then, please leave us be!"

"Oh, come off, Moony!" Sirius mocked him as James was already pulling him up by his arm.

"Let's go, Pads" he laughed.

"Is not like he's not dying to know if it's him!" you still heard Sirius as James was pulling him upstairs to their dorm with Peter following them and finally leaving you and Remus alone.

"Um, I'm really sorry about them" Remus chuckled, nervously. "You know they can be-"

"It's alright, Rem" you smiled sweetly. "I know they're idiots" you chuckled. You've known them for a very long time.

A few hours had passed, and the Common Room was empty by now, except for the two of you and the dying fire on the fireplace.

"Okay, I think we've covered everything" Remus said, looking at his book. "Except the Fruitcakes to Fairy tales" he said, re-reading the content again. "Wait, that can't be right" he chuckled, rubbing his tired eyes with his hands. "Right, Fairy Cakes to Fairies" he corrected. "I think we can leave that for to-" he turned around to see you and stopped when he noticed you were resting your head in your arms and had fallen asleep. He looked at the time and realized it was a lot later than he had thought.

He felt himself smiling as he saw how peaceful you looked in your sleep. He would never admit this out loud but, Sirius was right. He would eventually have to find the courage to finally ask you out. He slowly got up and quietly started cleaning his and your things before he would gently wake you up so the two of you could go to bed.

"Mmm..." he heard you mumble in your sleep before he saw a smile appear on your face. Again, he may never admit this out loud, but he kind of agreed with Sirius. Ever since Lily told them that you had said one of the Marauders' name, he had been dying to know who it was. "Stop it, love" he heard you say, still fully asleep. It may not be the best idea though, as this could mean there was a 75% chance that you were in love, or at least dreaming about, one of his best friends. But at least this way, he would be done and get it over with. But then... "I love you too, Remus" he heard you chuckle, making him instantly look at you to make sure you were still sleeping, which caused him to drop the books in his hand, and you opened your eyes at the sound.

"H-hey-" Remus said, nervously as he picked up the books and he felt his cheeks blushing. "S-sorry, I uh" he stuttered. "I didn't mean to wake you up-"

"H-how um- how long have I been asleep?" you asked, feeling your heart pounding heavily.

"N-not long" he insisted, kneeling back next to you. "I was just thinking about calling it a night. I mean it's a bit later than I thought" he smiled.

"Um, sure" you smiled, nervously. "W-was I uh- was I... t-talking in my sleep?" you asked, feeling your cheeks burning as you looked away.

"Um..." Remus thought for a moment. He could see you were extremely anxious, and he didn't want this to be the way he confessed his love for you. "N-no" he said, noticing the sigh of relief you gave. "You were just... mumbling a bit but I couldn't make any of it" he assured you.

"Oh, um... okay" you smiled, feeling your heart flutter at how close Remus was from you. Not only because of that, but also because of the dream you were having, where he was much closer and his lips were very much on yours. "Um... we should... probably go to bed then" you said. "I mean, uh... separately, um... y-you know, you to your dorm and me to my dorm-" you stuttered. "I'm just going to shut up now" you chuckled nervously.

"Yeah, I think we're good for tonight" he said, smiling adorably at you as he got up and then helped you as well.

"Um, thanks again for helping me study, Rem" you smiled as you made your way to the stairs where you'll be parting ways.

"Anytime, love" Remus said, smiling at you and stopping you before you could go up the stairs. "Um-" he said, blushing a little. "I was thinking" he said, nervously. "Since it's a Hogsmeade weekend" he continued, placing his hand on the back of his neck. "And we're basically just one subject away... maybe you'd like to... go with me?" he asked, smiling sheepishly at you.

"R-really?" you asked, feeling your heart melting. "Just... y-you and me?"

"Y-yeah, if you'd like to um... go on a date... with me, that is" he assured you.

"I would really like that, Remus" you smiled.

"Really?" he asked, excitedly and you nodded happily. "Brilliant! So, maybe we could meet here and go to breakfast and then, we can go?"

"Sounds perfect" you said, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"See you tomorrow then, love" he smiled before he turned around to leave but you stopped him.

"Are you sure I didn't say anything when I was asleep?" you asked, smiling nervously. Remus looked at you and smirked a little.

"Nope. Nothing, love" he replied but you weren't fully convinced. "At least nothing I could understand" he shrugged. "Why? Were you dreaming about something in specific?"

"Not really" you smiled back at him. Remus pulled you a little to kiss your cheek.

"Sweet dreams, love" he whispered before he went on his way.

Yes, he definitely heard you.

The End

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A/N: I hope you loves liked it! hopefully more stories are coming up this week!

#marauders #marauders imagine #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin drabble

[crdteezv]

Frat House - Prologue

RULES (important): This will be a choose-your-own ending type of fic! At the end of the prologue, I will have links at the end for each member so you can choose the one you want to spend the night with!

Paring: frat boys! ot6 wayv x afab! reader

Genre: College!au, frat! Suggestive

Synopsis: College au where your best friend Ten invites you over after you tell him you were stressing from all your upcoming exams. You play different kinds of drinking games with all of his friends. Towards the end, you played an interesting game of spin the bottle...

Warnings: Alcohol use, kissing & a little bit of exhibitionism. Since this is the prologue nothing much happens until you choose who you want to be with at the end. 

Word Count: 2.6k 

**AUTHOR NOTES**: I'm still writing for some people as I go, so the others will be updated in due time! I hope you all will enjoy this series and will come back once I post the other members.

It was a late Friday night. 

You were exhausted from all the studying you had to do for your upcoming exams. Finals are coming up and it's starting to become overwhelming. You decided to take a little break and call your best friend Ten. 

You guys have known each other since freshman year - orientation to be exact. You both hit it off pretty well from the jump. You’ve realized you had a lot of things in common and would hang out a lot. 

It's always been purely platonic between the two of you. However, he has flirted with you from time to time. Most of the time he was joking and you never took him seriously. He was just a flirt by nature and you got used to it. 

“Hey, how are you? I haven’t heard from you all day!” Ten asked you on the phone.

“Yeah, I know, sorry about that, I've been studying like crazy. I wanted to take a break and talk to you for a bit.”

“Ah I see, I understand since exams are coming up. But to be honest, I barely studied for any of my exams. I think I will be fine since I’m an art major. Most of my finals aren’t going to be that hard for me.”

“Lucky. I’ve been studying for hours now. I wish I could take an actual break and unwind for a bit.” 

“You know what? Why don’t you come over to my place tonight?”

You were thinking that it would be a pretty good idea to go. It’s the weekend and a Friday night at that – meaning you have no class tomorrow.

“Sure why not! But won’t all the other guys be there?”

“Nah most of them went out partying tonight. It's just Kun, Winwin, Xiaojun, Hendery, Yangyang, and I here. You don’t have to worry about all the other members trying to get in your pants.”

You sighed in relief. 

Everyone that is in the frat house, tried to get with you at least once. Anytime you would come over, you were like eye candy to them. That’s why you usually just chill in Ten’s room and play games with him. 

“Alright, what did you have planned?”

“We were planning on having a little game night, drink a little, truth or dare, etc.”

This all sounds pretty exciting so far. You were ready to be anywhere but your room tonight.

“Ok, I’ll head over now.”

You both said your goodbyes and you started to get ready to leave. You decided to wear a loose crop top with some shorts and sneakers. You headed out of your dorm and walked over to the frat house that Ten is a part of. It’s not too far from your dorm. You were thinking about how Ten recently joined the fraternity. 

He joined last semester and has gained a lot of new friends since. He introduced you to all 19 of them. It’s crazy how they all manage to live together. You don’t even know how they survive. You swear all they ever do is party and it's always too chaotic for your liking. However, some of them were actually kind of cool and you became good friends with them.

You arrived at the house and rang the doorbell. To your surprise, Hendery answered it.

“Oh, it’s you.”

“Whatever, I’m coming in”. You rolled your eyes and pushed him out of the way to let yourself in. 

You and him never got along, and would always bicker. He always claims that he is better than you at everything – but that is not even the case most of the time. Most of the time you come out victorious and he acts like he doesn't care. 

You enter the living room where the remaining 5 are sitting and setting up all the games. You were first greeted by Ten with a smile and hug.

“Hey, I’m glad you could make it! We’re just about to get started, do you want anything to drink?”

“Oh nah I’m good! I don’t plan on drinking tonight. I won’t be staying long.”

“You’re so boring - you know that right? Why’re you even here if you not going to drink at least once?” Hendery said in a snarky tone.

“Shut up alright? I should’ve stayed home if I knew you were going to be this annoying.”

He rolled his eyes and didn’t grace you with a response,  and he sat right next to Yangyang. 

“Hey, if she doesn’t want to drink that's fine. She only came here to take a break from studying and to unwind. It’s not like we’re not forcing her.”

Hendery nodded and you had this smug look on your face. Tonight you were going to pay him no mind and focus on having fun tonight.

You sat between Ten and Xiaojun. You have always been comfortable with Xiaojun. You guys actually used to be friends in high school. You both used to be close back then, but not so much anymore. After entering college, you didn’t see him as often as you used to. Ever since Ten joined the frat, you've been seeing Xiaojun more and you guys have gotten close again, fortunately.

As for Yangyang, Winwin, and Kun, you only just met them not too long ago, so you guys don’t talk as much. You're cool with them but you never hung out with them or anything.

As the night went on, you played games like Uno, Just Dance, etc. It was getting to the point, however, where things started to get a little boring. So, they decided to start playing some drinking games. You eventually caved and began drinking with them as well. You started to become more and more intoxicated as the night went on.

In the last game, you guys played Spin the Bottle with a little twist to it. Whoever the bottle lands on has to do a truth or dare made by the other person, and if they refuse they have to take a shot. If the bottle lands on the person who spun it first, everyone else in the group can collectively come up with a truth or dare for them to do.

You were too out of it to refuse to participate even if you wanted to. Everyone sat in a circle around the coffee table, and you were in between Kun & Ten. 

You’ve never sat this close to Kun before, and you sensed this distinct aura from him. It felt intimidating and domineering in a way. You guys made eye contact for a split second then you looked away.  

However, you still felt his eyes on you. 

You start to squirm around and begin to feel nervous. You always felt a bit intimidated by Kun. However, you were also very intrigued and wanted to know more about him. Hopefully this game of truth or dare can help with that. 

Across from you is Yangyang & Winwin. You thought they were both relatively attractive. You're closer to Yangyang since you both have the same math class. You talked to him a couple of times outside of class too but every once in a while. You would honestly give him a chance if he offered.

Winwin, however, you’ve talked to him once or twice when you came over to the house. He just stays in his room and usually keeps to himself. You find Winwin to be quite mysterious. 

Hendery grabbed an empty bottle lying around and decided to be the first one to spin it.

It landed on Ten.

“You know what? Fuck it, hit me with a dare.”

Hendery had this smirk on his face like you know he was about to say something stupid.

“I dare you to kiss the person sitting on your left.”

It was you.

God, Hendery was so chidish, asking him to do something like that. It feels like you were in high school all over again.

Ten gave you a look of hesitation, seemingly trying to prevent any rising awkwardness

“Hey, look, you don’t have to do it alright. You know Hendery just wants to make things awkward-” You started.

While you were mid-sentence, Ten pulled the side of your face towards him and gave you a light kiss on the lips. When he pulled away, he was sporting a mischievous look on his face. It seemed he had been wanting to do that for a while now.

You didn’t want the kiss to be over, so you went back to kissing him in front of everyone. 

All eyes were on both of you at this point. 

The tension in the air was thick, which started to make you feel anxious but excited. Your heart started racing like crazy and you began to feel hot all over.  Having all of them watch you make out with Ten was starting to turn you on. 

You hear Winwin and Yangyang whispering about something – but you can’t make out what they are saying. Xiaojun however felt so flustered that he was looking away the whole time, waiting for this all to end. Kun was previously on his phone but now is looking up at your making-out forms. 

On top of this, the outfit you were wearing wasn’t making this any better. Your thighs were being exposed from your shorts. Kun couldn’t keep his eyes off of them. You felt him staring at them earlier, but thought you were just being paranoid. 

Your crop top was starting to ride up a bit after put your arm over Ten’s shoulders. Your bra was about to get exposed, and you felt Hendery searing a hole into your head.

To be honest, you wanted to get under Hendery's skin because you knew how much he hated seeing you enjoy yourself. For a split second, you open your eyes and make eye contact with Hendery, all the while making out with Ten. 

The look on his face was absolutely priceless.

You grinned into Ten’s mouth and slipped your tongue in. He accepted your advances and things started to become even more intense between the two of you. 

Hendery couldn’t bear to watch this anymore. He started abruptly, “Alright, goddamn. That’s enough. You guys should go get a room if you want to make out with each other so fucking bad.”

You can sense the hint of jealousy in his words when he said that. You found yourself liking this side of him. 

“But weren’t you the one who dared me to do it in the first place?” Ten rebutted.

The room went silent when he said that. Everyone was taken aback for a bit.

“I don’t see why you’re so mad about it. It seemed like she enjoyed it so much she came back for seconds. Isn’t that right darling?” 

He was staring back at you with an alluring look on his face.

Something about the way his aura changed after saying that was kind of hot to you. You don’t know why you started to burn up even more. The making out from earlier was still on your mind. Sure he would always flirt with you in the past… but this time something felt different.

You nodded and didn’t say anything because you were starting to feel a little flustered.

Then, the realization started to hit you like a truck. 

You just made out with your best friend in front of all of his close friends.  

Ten boldly saying what he said in front of everyone really did something to you. You were wondering if anyone else felt jealous of him and wished they were in his place instead. The thought of that alone was driving you crazy.

However, Hendery felt almost embarrassed after putting himself on the spot. Winwin and Yangyang were trying to hold back their laughter. 

Yangyang decided to be the next one to spin the bottle to clear the tension in the air. 

It landed on Kun.

“I’ll do a truth.”

“Playing it safe I see? Ok, is it true that out of all of us, you’ve slept with the most people?”

He scoffed and had a cocky look on his face. “What makes you want to know huh?”

“I'm just curious is all, since you have the most experience here out of all of us.”

This did intrigue you. It would make since he is the oldest here - and a senior at that. Ten and Winwin were also seniors. Everyone else was juniors including you. You were curious to hear his response.

“Yeah, I for sure have fucked around more than all of you guys combined. I used to get around but not really anymore. I’m focusing more on my studies since I’m graduating soon.”

Everyone had a shocked look on their face - including you. Who would have known that Kun was the biggest player of the group.

It made you wonder what he would be like in the bedroom.

“Wait, really? Damn Kun! I didn’t know you used to be like that… wow. Who wants to spin next?” Yangyang said.

♡♡♡♡

It was starting to get late, having been 2 am at this point. 

You started to feel a little bit sober after not drinking for a while. You all got so immersed in the game, you forgot all about drinking. Mostly everyone would follow through with their truth or dare.

After this rotation, it was your turn to spin the bottle. You were the last person for the night because everyone (including you) was starting to get tired.

You spin the bottle and it lands back on you. This means that the guys can collectively choose what they want from you. 

You decided to do a dare, because what did you have to lose?

They were huddled in a circle for what seemed like forever. You started to become a little anxious about what they had planned for you. Eventually, they stopped plotting and Hendery had a smug look on his face. It’s almost as if he knows you’re going to be fucked.

You began to feel nervous, but somewhat excited at the same time. 

Hendery said, “OK, we dare you to spend the night with one of us in our rooms.”

No, you couldn’t simply go through with this. This is absolutely crazy. You’re not even that close with most of them.

“Come on love. It is pretty late anyways… I don’t think it’s safe for you to walk home this late at night.” Ten said in a teasing manner.

He did have a point. 

It would be kind of crazy to walk alone at this time – especially when you still feel a bit inebriated. 

“Fine, but I get to choose who I stay with right?”

There goes Hendery with that cocky grin on his face. He was really starting to get on your nerves.

 “Not quite. We’re going to spin the bottle again and whoever it lands on you room with for the night.”

You hated how much Hendery was enjoying this. He knows that if it lands on him, it's about to be absolute hell for you. He will for sure get on your nerves the whole night and piss you off. 

Or even worse try and get in your pants. However, that thought had crossed your mind before you guys even became rivals. You can admit that he’s really attractive. It's just his personality that pisses you off.

You were feeling pretty bold tonight, so you agreed to the terms of the dare.

He spun the bottle, your heart racing with anticipation in the meantime.

You waited in a mix of fear and anticipation for who it would land on….

Will the bottle land on [KUN] [TEN] [WINWIN] [XIAOJUN] [HENDERY] [YANGYANG]?

#wayv #hendery smut #wayv smut #nct smut #wayv scenarios #hendery x reader #kun #kun smut #kun x reader #kpop smut #nct fic #nct reactions #nct fanfic #ten smut #winwin x reader #wayv fanfic #winwin smut #xiaojun x reader #xiaojun smut #yangyang x reader #yangyang smut #wayv fanfiction #wayv imagines #wayv hard hours #ten x reader #wayv fic #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut

[makncheese12]

Top Shelf pt. 2

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Masterlist

Summary: being the kid of a well-known book store owner was easy, so was running into famous people. But being book smart doesn’t make everyone people smart.

Warning: my writing, I don’t know how to fully play chess so it’s a bit weird haha, very awkward, a little rushed if you come back tomorrow sometime after twelve it should be better

Word count - 3.1k

Credits: @novmoth (my friend from school who feeds into my delusions and gives me more ideas for this story🫶🏻)

“So,” Lyle starts as you move a piece across the chess board and look up to him then back down at the half played board. “You mean to tell me you ran into Jenna Ortega—“ he says through gritted teeth and puts his hands together and leans his forehead against them.

“—and you didn’t know who she was? She’s known world-wide after her recent show on Netflix!”

Why was he so surprised? He knew your parents situation and how it was critical that your mothers family didn’t find her.

Why would you want to be on social media so much anyway? All the drama involving celebrities and people switching up on them after finding some stuff they don’t like.

Hell people could even find information to black mail or threaten you with, that would just be your luck.

It was better to not get caught up in all of that. All you had was Instagram that had nothing to do with the last name and TikTok with no post that you barely used.

“You know I don’t watch a lot of TV.” You mumble watching him move the white piece taking your black on the board between the two of you. “Dude,” Mj starts looking up from pride and prejudice.

“We all used to watch her on stuck in the middle in sixth grade at Rosa’s place before Marco moved.” She says, clearly uninterested in the conversation yet wanting to be right.

You knit your eye brows together making Lyle stare at you like you were some kind of idiot. “She played Harley, middle child AKA stuck in the middle.” You continue to stare dumb founder.

The large man only groans and Mj scoffs at your lack of knowledge. Dru is then seen, holding a pile of games he wanted to try out.

“The chick with the hot sister who used her for an invention with her boyfriend.” He hums, placing the games next to the computer nearby.

Realization hits you like a brick and you nod, now knowing who they were talking about and the seeing the resemblance.

She both sounded and looked older now, you noted before moving a chess piece.

“If that’s what it takes for you to remember things then we’re all doomed.” Mj states as she pulls her legs up to her chest.

“Okay, when did she come exactly?” Lyle stares at the board, eyes clearly focused but keeping his attention on the conversation.

You think back to the interaction as he makes his move. “A few hours ago, right after lunch when people usually come in.”

“Wonder how she got here without getting noticed.” Mj wonders out loud. This girl must have been a big deal if she can’t get away without being noticed.

“Check,” Lyle hums and your eyes snap back to the board to see him move his piece. You narrow your eyes at the board for a moment and huff out.

You two had decided to create your own set of rules after playing together for so long it had become a bit boring. With his idea, you both made the game a little more interesting and complicated.

“She probably has little disguises, you know to specifically get away from the paps.” Dru mumbles, face inches away from the screen.

You grimace at the sight, now seeing why he needed glasses yet he was still doing it with them on.

“He has a point.” Lyle replies watching you make your move before his smile grows. “Checkmate.” He flaunts making you groan as he snatches your king.

“Your slacking, Y/N, do better.” He shakes his head before putting all the pieces back in place.

His teasing only making you groan again, louder this time making him chuckle.

“You’re making me feel like a sin getting scolding by his father after a bad game.” You mumble before sitting up again and making the first move.

“Good,” he laughs watching you make the same move as before. “You need it.” He says in response.

“Fuck the game, what are you going to do about Jenna Ortega?” Mj speaks up closing her book and slamming it on the table.

Usually, you’d scold her for doing so but it was after hours and no one was inside to bother.

Lyle huffs. “Never say that again, this game is very important.” Mj rolls her eyes in response, everything was important to him.

“What would you have me do? Send her a quick text and ask her to come back?” You laugh at the thought.

It would have to be a miracle to get any celebrities number, it would have to be a god send to get her phone number.

“You’re such a pessimist.” Lyle snorts and you send him a glare. “I would be if a cute celebrity showed up and I never saw her again.” Dru calls out making you huff.

“I will see her again, actually. I think, at least.” Mj perks up at this. “Oh? How so?” She asks, leaning forward on the table.

You send her a glare and lean away. Why was she suddenly acting like a fourth grade friend who finds out about your crush.

“She borrowed the book, so she kind of has to come back.” You grumble scooting your seat farther away from her.

You didn’t really think you’d actually be excited for someone to return for a book. Sure, there were cute people that came in and out of the library all the time. But none had really had any real affect on you like she did.

Though the interaction was short and quick, it was probably one of the most interesting ones you had with a customer.

You’d do anything to see those freckles in person again.

The clicking sound of a phone brings you out of your thoughts as you glance up to Lyle whose holding up his phone.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he begins angry typing. “You just looked so aesthetic with the chess board, I gotta post it to Insta.”

You roll your eyes before they move to Mj who paces back and fourth.

“Okay, so that would probably be your only chance at actually talking to her.” She says as if she were talking to herself.

“She’s so delusional

“That is if you don’t fuck it up,” she mutters that last part with a as she continues pacing making you point to your face that is clearly unamused.

“But how will you do that? You’re a horrible flirt, that much is true and your humor is as dead as Lyle’s hair.”

“Hey!” He quickly goes to cover his purple hair with his large arms. “There’s no hiding that atrocities.” Mj rolls her eyes, once again for the hundredth time tonight.

“I say you just go for it.” Dru says tapping his computer key quickly and you notice the game to be ‘cookie clicker’, an online game that is not any of the games in his pile.

“Be yourself and you’ll be fine, if she doesn’t like that oh well.” He says inching closer to the screen, glasses almost touching it.

“Wow DD,” Lyle says, looking up from his screen that was suddenly getting lots of notifications. “I never thought you could be so poetic.” He teases and Dru sends him a side eye glare.

“That wasn’t even poetic, just common sense.” He replies, eyes traveling back to his screen.

Lyle sticks his tongue out at the older man who doesn’t even notice.

“I want sushi,” You say standing up watching the abandoned chess pieces fall from their place. “Let’s go get some.”

“Right behind you,” Mj says eagerly as she grabs her book and jacket, Lyle not too far behind her.

“Wait, give me a second!” Dru calls but you just laugh and continue your way to the door.

“Wait! I want sushi too! Stop!” He calls out louder as Lyle holds the door open. “Just abandon mission dude! Sushi is way better.” Lyle says as you begin walking down the street, Dru coming out not long after making sure to lock the door.

————

You carefully pull books out of the return section as the beat of your music rings through your ears making you bop your head lightly.

You glance over to Lyle who sat in the desk chair, playing Call Of Duty mobile on his phone. You wouldn’t usually be allowed to do that but it was a particularly slow day.

It had been two weeks since Jenna had last came to the library and to say you were disappointed was an understatement.

You knew it could be months before she would have to return the book and you would have to charge her for it if she really didn’t and that is what you didn’t want to do.

Mj made sure you didn’t forget either, sending you cheesy pick-up lines and ‘how to flirt’ website which only aggravated you and hurt your ego.

You did look at a few though and had to admit some were actually good while others made you skin crawl.

You don’t notice the sound of the bell ringing or the way Lyle quirks up slightly glancing toward you

Jenna looks up to him as her body guards walk to a side table in front of the window allowing her a little freedom to walk after seeing there weren’t many people.

He makes his lips into kissy form and a small ‘ooh’ leaves before turning to you, back turned as you sort through the books.

He looks back to Jenna who is now standing at the front desk contemplating to help her or not.

He decides against it but doesn’t want to leave the celebrity waiting. He stands up and quickly grabs the closest thing to the back room door before putting his finger to his lips.

“Shh..” He says, eying her as a playful threat before chucking the item at you and rushing through the door.

The thing hits your head and you whip around, barely missing Lyle as your eyes land on Jenna who held her books, glancing between the storage room and you.

“Did you..” you say, pulling your headphones out and picking up a mouse key that had been ripped off from the cord. “Did you just throw a mouse key at me?” You ask with playful tone as you walk toward her.

Jenna thinks back to Lyle’s silence threat before speaking. “You weren’t paying attention, it’s bad customer service.” She just shrugs.

“Oh, my bad.” You say putting your hands up in defense and her smile grows. “I’m sorry I was doing my job,.” You say shaking your head before playing glaring at her.

Be confident, all girls like that!

Mj’s words ring through your head making you cringe slightly.

Not too confident, that’ll get you punched.

Dru had stated after and your lips pull up at the memory of Dru getting punched at the skating rink during you tenth grade year.

You think of all the pick-up lines that actually seemed subtle and weren’t cringe worthy but decided against it as she pushes the books toward you.

“So, what’d you think?” You ask taking them and scanning the under the red light and pressing the ‘return’ button on the computer screen.

“I actually enjoyed between shades of gray surprisingly even though it was pretty dark,” she says shyly and you nod. “But the other wasn’t really good.”

“Just shows I have better taste than you.” You tease lightly, attempting to flirt but realizing it wasn’t actually flirting.

You were starting to realize how bad of a glitter you really were and Mj was right.

You feel your phone buzz go off multiple times at a time as Lyle comes out of the storage closet with a box full of old tapes you had just put back in there a little while ago.

He takes his seat and watches through the corner of his eye, looking through the black blocks clearly acting like he was doing something as he ease-dropped.

You roll your eyes before leaning against the counter, rolling your thumbs around each other, becoming nervous by the sudden pressure of his gaze.

“Does he always stare at you like that?” She suddenly asks, amusement clear in her voice making you snort.

“Unfortunately yes,” you say and his head yanks toward you, fake offense taking over his features. “He’s always been weird but I guess that’s what makes us friends.”

He forms a heart with his hands before blowing you a kiss making you grimace at the large man.

“So,” you say looking back up to her, noticing her biting the inside of her lip slightly before looking back to you. “Looking for anything else or should I just get back to work?” You ask, smirking slightly as you look up toward her.

You hear a quiet snort come from Lyle and send him a mental glare in the process. Oh how you wished it was Dru here instead, hell even Mj would do.

“Actually, yes.” She says, perking up slightly at your mention. “I was hoping to get another suggestion from you, since you know.” She finishes making you raise an eye brow and hum to yourself.

You think through the hundreds of books you’ve read before coming to your conclusion and standing up straight.

“I have one,” you say and she nods. “I figured.” She replies as you pass through the low door and around the counter.

“It’s sort of the same as Between Shades of Gray, same time frame.” You say walking toward the historical section. “I will need to help get it though,” you snort to yourself, feeling glare in the back of your head.

“I’m actually six foot two if you remember correctly, it’s just the angle your looking at that makes me look shorter.” She argues and your smile grows.

“I’m sorry, I completely forgot I hope I haven’t offended you too deeply.” You tell her, bowing slightly as she passes you walking into the aisle with her head high.

“But in all seriousness,” you say scanning over the the spines of the books. “What made you think the name ‘Top Shelf’ wouldn’t be quite literally the top shelf.” You reach out and grab the book ‘The Book Thief’ before turning to her.

“I thought it was like a metaphor or something.” she mumbles taking the book from your hands, reading the cover.

“Oh definitely, especially with the owners being tall themselves.” You say, laughing at her glare at you through her eye lashes.

She rolls her eyes before moving past you and toward the front desk.

You follow after her quickly and go behind the desk again before pushing past Lyle who was messing with the computer.

“Excuse you,” he stares at you wide eyed as you click back to the search bar. “Your fault you were in my way.” You mumble only giving him a glance.

“Name?” You asks glancing toward and you can almost feel the glare Lyle gives you.

“You’re joking?” She asks, clearly unamused. “It’s policy.” You send her another playful smile watching huff out.

“Jenna Ortega.” She says before Lyle pinches your side making you jump slightly. “Stop that,” you whisper before kicking your leg back at him, you miss completely.

“Burrowing or buying?” You ask and she again, rolls her eyes. “Burrowing.”

You feel Lyle pinch your other side and you send him a glare, clearly wanting him out of your bubble and away from your conversation. “You’re so annoying.” You say before watching him stick his tongue and move back to his seat.

You look back toward Jenna who was, once again, chewing her lip.

You take her credit card and swipe it quickly, using your hand to keep him a safe distance away from you.

“Anything else?” You ask, glancing up to the girl who is already staring at you.

“Actually,” she mumbles quietly as Lyle pinches your arm pit making you elbow his chest and he lets out a hard huff.

“You seem pretty cool and I was wondering..” she hesitates for a moment, trying her best to maintain eye contact which makes Lyle stop, chest against your back.

She continues you hesitate as you bag the book and slide it toward, you fidgeted slightly as anxiety creeps up to your core.

“If I could have your number? Or maybe I could give you mine?..” there’s a sort of shyness in her voice and she begins to bite the inside of her lip again.

You stare at her dumb founded a second, not fully expecting that.

But then again it was very obvious it was coming from the first part of her sentence, that was clear especially to Lyle who glances between you two.

The two wait for your response that seems to never come which makes Lyle’s eye twitch and Jenna to shift on her feet.

“You can say no, of course I just thought I’d ask.” She says, voice even quieter which makes Lyle decided to take matters into his own hands.

He snatches the phone from your pocket and sends you a small knowing smirk before turning to the girl. “Excuse her, she’s not used to these kind of interactions.” He says unlocking you phone and opening your contacts and going to the number screen.

“She is, after all, a librarians daughter. She just has no game what’s so ever.” He shakes his head and clicks his mouth. You quickly snap out of your dazed state to glare toward him.

“Yeah, sorry but I’d actually love that.” You say before watching her smile grow and all the nervousness leave her body as she begins to type.

“Cool,” she says before handing you your phone back. “Very cool.” Lyle states as he nods and gives you a knowing look.

“Text me,” she says before picking up her bag and walking toward the door. “I mean it!” You watch her stern look as her body guards stand and open the door for her with a goofy smile on your face.

“I will!” You call out as the door shuts behind her.

“Holy shit,” Lyle mutters watching her walk down the street. “Holy shit.” You repeat, still a little shocked by the whole situation.

“Jenna Ortega thinks my best friend is cool and gave her her number.” He says pulling out his phone and typing quickly before you feel a buzz in come from the phone in your hand.

You open the text messages in the group chat and see a series of text between Lyle, Mj and Dru. They had to have been spamming the entire time.

You read over the last text and snort.

My best friend is cooler than you, you also owe me twenty bucks <3

Read next part here!

A/N: Lyle being R’s wingman is in fact canon🫶🏻

Also, while you’re here why don’t you request something for different characters. I have some drafts for other things I’m working on but I would let to create some you guys ideas!

#Jenna Ortega #Top shelf #jenna ortega fanfic #Jenna Ortega x reader #tara carpenter #scream 5 #scream 6 #wednesday Addams #Vada Cavell #jenna ortega x you #Lorraine day #x #the fallout #Jenna Ortega imagine

[rainydayz-nstuff]

Adventure Time

You can probably tell what I’m mostly going to be posting about 🫤 Anyways, this is briefly based on my own AT fanfic that I have.

So here is Finn x Ice Kings Kid! Reader (How you met)

Let’s start off with how you appeared since you’re human. Gunter found you while messing around in Ice King’s ‘research lab’

It was actually Simon’s old lab.

You, with very out dated clothes, were stuck in an Ice Pod where you’ve been asleep for many, many, years.

Ice King heard Gunter’s ‘wenks’ so he found both Gunter and a sleeping human

At first he asked Gunter if he had made a statue, then he opened the pod and you… nearly fell on your face.

Ice King caught you and realized you were still knocked out, and he kindly brought you to his bed and laid you down. He spent the next few hours pacing around the room and staring at you while he ate trail mix

When you woke up, he was chomping away and he was completely zoned out. Like, his pupils were huge.

You stared at him before blinking slowly. Finally, Ice King glanced down at you while letting out a hum. You locked eyes before he shrieked and started choking on his trail mix.

“Oh! Geeze, I’m sorry!” You instantly apologized.

Ice King recovered while taking deep breaths. You were now sitting up and he could tell you were kind of young.

Then, an idea hit him.

“I’m going to adopt you!”

“… You gonna what?

Ice king is now officially your dad (here you go people with daddy issues)

HES ACTUALLY A GOOD DAD NGL

He teaches you how to play the drums, the keyboard, writing fan fiction, ruling the kingdom, how he’s gonna kid nap possible wives-

You just let him rant on and on because he seems happy to talk with you

He’ll also offer to kidnap anybody you may be interested in, he doesn’t judge.

MAKES A CROWN FOR YOU! It never melts, and it looks like a mini version of his!

Cried the first time you wore it in front of him

Okay, onto the rest-

He set up a coronation to officially welcome you to the kingdom as his child.

Sends out posters, invitations, notes tied to rocks, and some people actually showed up (over half are kidnapped princesses because why not?)

Finn and Jake showed up because they found out about this coronation and thought it was a trick to lure in princesses or he kidnapped someone and was going to make them stay in his kingdom forever.

Right as the official Ice crown was to be placed on your head, they kicked the doors open and stopped the ceremony.

Ice King, like usual, got mad and instantly flew in the air to use his powers.

He flew up too quickly and knocked himself out when he hit the ceiling.

Before you could rush over to your dad, Finn grabbed your hand and whisked you away like a bride

He gave you a reassuring smile to try and convince you that you were now safe

It didn’t make you safe

“Hey! Put me down!” You struggled to get out of his grasp. “Seriously, who are you?!”

Finn stopped running before he sat you down. Your shimmery light blue, bordering white, outfit matched the icy floor. “My names Finn, and that was Jake.”

His toothy smile and heroic pose made you stare at him blankly before you turned around. “I’m going back to see my dad.”

Finn’s face fell and he tried to grab your arm. “Hey, wait! Don’t go back there, it’s dangerous!” He tried to warn you, but your brushed him off.

“Don’t care. My dad just got knocked out, and I don’t think Gunter knows how to use bandages.”

After marching back inside, you found your dad mumbling to himself. And Gunter was stuck in bandages.

After getting the little guy out, you helped your dad and picked him up to bring him to his bed.

All the guests had left after the ambush so you changed out of the ceremony attire, and then put on normal clothes only with the crown on this time.

Finn, very interested in who you are, spied on you and noted how… familiar you seemed.

You had never met before, but he felt like you were something he was missing.

Then he realized you were human.

He outed himself when he gasped before he also fell to the ground and made a loud crash.

You stood tall over him while he stared up at you. Your eyes glared down at his nervous form.

“Get out of here.” Your voice laced with venom, but oddly enough… he blushed.

Finn stuttered a bit while you raised an eyebrow. He then quickly got up, grabbed your hand, kissed it, then ran away

You never told your dad what happened, but you still didn’t comprehend what just happened.

#adventure time #adventure time x reader #cartoon #cartoon network #finn mertens #finn the human #finn x reader #fluff #imagine #x reader

[merchelsea]

mastermind - charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: charles decided to rent a room in a hotel that was not associated with f1 to take girls into without causing any drama, but it turns out that asking for extreme discretion on a cheap hotel is not a great idea. PART TWO

author's note: just in case someone notices, the race schedule is NOT correct. i changed it to fit with what i wanted to write.

warnings: rushed writing

word count: 1,6k

previous part

the atmosphere was ablaze with celebrations throughout the day. the only time it felt slightly lower was when you and pierre got out of the club for you to make a call.

while your connection with pierre wasn't as tight as it was with charles, it was clear from the beginning that you both hit it off quite well. so, being alone with him wasn't uncomfortable at all.

as you hung up your phone, the french couldn't resist diving into the topic. "so, charles and you…" he began, causing an internal eye-roll that you suppressed effortlessly. "has he made a move yet?"

"a move?" you shrugged casually. "he hasn't?" he presumed, posing it rhetorically.

"ok tell me what's going on, because kika and you have been planting ideas in my head." you demanded. "what are you guys trying to tell me?"

"he's into you; I thought that was obvious," pierre replied.

"well, it's not. explain, but give me the full story, including the fact that you told kika I was the reason he didn't meet up with janne on that first night." you insisted, and could see from his features he was going to.

"yes, ma'am. so, that first day, charles was genuinely interested in you. he asked me to take you out to hang out with our friends. knowing that your initial impression of him wasn't the best, he figured that if you got along with his friends, he'd have a better chance with you," pierre explained. his strong accent made some parts a bit challenging to decipher, but you managed to piece it all together.

"he was not going to use the room anymore, so he actually met up with her to apologize and let her know he wasn't going to pursue anything with her," pierre continued, using expressive gestures as your mind raced with confusion.

"every night, he was supposed to go back to the f1 hotel, but yet, every night he was there with you; teaching you how to play games you told me you had never heard of."

your eyes widened as you realized that everything the frenchman was saying fell into place. you had forgotten most of what had happened that night, but not the conversations from the dinner when you were still sober and fully coherent.

"he schemed it like a criminal and you were his crime."

that was a lot to take in. even if not something out of this world, anyone would be taken aback if someone, especially someone like charles, put in so much effort just to catch their attention.

not only had he been doing this for a whole week, but he made it appear effortless, to the point where you didn't even notice his intentions.

you felt somewhat foolish, and above all, you felt like you had wasted all that time thinking he only wanted friendship.

of course, you still had tonight, and if he decided to stick around a bit longer, a few more days. it was time, but it felt insufficient, especially when you knew he was willing to settle for just friendship if you didn't find out of his intentions – or in this case, if pierre hadn't spilled the truth.

perhaps that's why you remained silent and contemplative for nearly half an hour. the thoughts were beginning to settle in your mind when someone finally pulled you out of your trance, offering you a drink.

"hey, are you okay?" the monegasque inquired when you accepted the drink. you managed to produce a faint "yes," but he still took a seat beside you, clearly unconvinced. "alright then. what are you doing here all alone?" you turned towards him, coming face to face.

a smile curved his lips when you met his gaze. "i'm thinking." you replied, returning the smile. "when are you going to… wherever the next race is?" you asked, leaning closer so you could speak more discreetly.

it was difficult to ear throughout the noise, and proximity helped, but it wasn't quite enough. charles drew closer, his hand resting on your lower back, his lips close to your ear, less than an inch away. "it's in england. i'll be on a plane in a few hours, but it could be a week if i choose to stay."

you switched positions, speaking into his ear, "well, do you want to stay?"

that didn't sound like a mere question, it sounded more like an invitation. you knew it was one, but you weren't entirely sure if he understood it like that. you pulled away from his ear and turned to gaze into his captivating green eyes.

"do you want me to stay?" he shot a little lower, his voice barely audible. you couldn't hear his words, but you read them from the movement of his lips and the subtle drop in his smile. "in your room or ours?" you inquired, your smile widening.

he wasn't entirely sure when he had shared the existence of the other room he had desperately tried to keep hidden from you, but he didn't dwell on it too much, as your next words held much more significance. "stay." you urged, sincerity evident in both your voice and your eyes.

you took a step forward, stopping only when you had passed him by. "that way, you can teach me more of those games I told pierre I knew nothing about." you could hear him sigh, and swore it wasn't a sigh of discontent.

navigating through the crowd, you made your way outside the club, the driver closely trailing behind.

now he knew that you were aware of all his scheming, and he also knew that you didn't mind.

"i-" he started, but you interrupted right away. "don't. i don't wanna know. i don't care." you moved closer again, your hand gently caressing his cheek."i really don't care." before you knew it, the hands that had held your waist just moments ago were now pulling you closer, your bodies drawn together and his face inching nearer.

when your lips met his, every wrong thing fell into its right place. the warmth of his beer-flavored lips against your vodka-tinged ones sent your heart racing. no one had ever kissed you like this, not even someone who professed to love you.

your skin got immediately hotter and shivers came down you spine, making this feel like a movie scene. although you were sure none of those TV kisses could even compare to his.

this was on another level, an entirely new experience for you. the passion was palpable, and you both yearned for more. his hand found its way into the back of your hair, while yours continued to cup his mesmerizing face.

his tongue entered your mouth and you both battled for space as the intensity of the kiss grew. fireworks erupted inside of you, and charles only managed to make them bigger.

you couldn’t know, but his heart race matched yours, and the feeling of you lips in his made every oscar awarded kissing scene seem stupid.

you never worried about the future, about this week being the last time you will ever see him in this life. but you worried for the fact that this didn’t seem to be a simple kiss. what you felt was everything but simple.

"come with me to silverstone." he asked, briefly parting your faces to extend an invitation. "what?" you laughed. "i am pretty sure i can convince your boss to let you come with me to the race if that means he gets an add with my face. come with me, please." he added with a twinkle in his eyes.

"ok." you replied, sealing the agreement with another kiss, this time accompanied by a wide grin. "you know, we still have a whole week to ourselves here. we'll see how the silverstone situation turns out, okay?" he hummed a yes, and you smiled at him.

looking into his eyes, you couldn't help but feel grateful for being this mastermind's masterplan.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #francisca cerqueira gomes #f1 x reader #formula 1 #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc #charles #charles leclerc blurb #pierre gasly #formula one story #short #f1 imagine #charles leclerc 16 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader

[lecsainz]

Hotel Room

pairings: pierre gasly x horner!reader

warnings: room cards exchanged, pierre almost hit by a vase, christian horner being a cool uncle and pierre shamelessly flirting.

authors note: even though it's very short, i had fun writing it.

word count: 680

Pierre Gasly arrived at his hotel after a long day of practice sessions. As he walked towards the reception to check-in, he received a card key from the receptionist, and without bothering to check the name or room number, he went straight up to his room.

Once inside, he put his bag down and noticed that there was a towel on the floor. Confused, he walked towards the bathroom to investigate, and that's when he saw her - a beautiful woman, wearing only a towel, walking out of the shower.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Y/N yelled, grabbing a vase and holding it defensively.

Pierre, taken aback by the situation, tried to explain that he was given the wrong room and that he was just as surprised as she was.

"Hey, stop! I didn't know this was your room! And put down that vase, you might hurt yourself." Pierre said, trying to calm her down.

"You can't just barge in here like that!" Y/N exclaimed, throwing the vase at him, causing Pierre to duck out of the way just in time.

"Get out of my room!" Y/N continued to scream, picking up anything she could find and throwing it at him.

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll leave. But you're the one who invaded my room, you know. And by the way, you look really nice in that towel." Pierre said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N glared at him, not amused. "Just get out!" shouted, throwing a bottle of shampoo at Pierre.

He ducked as the shampoo bottle sailed over his head and crashed against the wall.

Pierre realized that she wasn't going to listen to him, so he grabbed his bag and made his way towards the door. As he was leaving, Y/N's phone rang, and she answered it, still angry. "Hello?"

“Y/N, I just got a call from the hotel. They told me that Pierre Gasly, the driver for Alpine, was given the wrong room key and ended up in your room by mistake. Is everything okay?" Christian Horner asked, concerned.

Y/N's eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god, that's what happened. I thought he was some random guy who had broken into my room. I threw a vase at him and everything."

Christian let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness he's okay. I'm glad it was just a misunderstanding. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just embarrassed now." Y/N said, feeling mortified about her earlier behavior.

"Don't worry about it, Y/N. These things happen. I'll call the hotel and make sure everything's sorted out." Christian reassured her.

After Christian hung up Pierre turned around, curious about what was going on. Y/N hung up the phone and looked at him with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea who you were. My uncle is Christian Horner, the boss of Red Bull Racing. He's going to kill me."

Pierre couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry about it. It's an honest mistake. And it's not every day that I get to meet the niece of one of the most important people in my sport."

Y/N gave him a small smile. "I guess you're right. I'm sorry for overreacting."

"It's okay. And by the way, I really did mean it when I said you look nice in that towel," Pierre said with a wink.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help but laugh. "You're such a flirt, Pierre."

"Guilty as charged." Pierre said, grinning.

"Well, now that we've cleared that up, I guess we should introduce ourselves properly," Y/N said, extending her hand. "I'm Y/N."

"Pierre,” Pierre said, shaking her hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle.”

Y/N smiled at Pierre. "You can just call me Y/N."

"Y/N it is then," Pierre said with a smile. "So, now that we've met under such interesting circumstances, can I buy you a drink or something to make up for the misunderstanding?"

Y/N chuckled. "Sure, why not? But only if you promise to tell me more about yourself and what you do."

"Deal." Pierre said, grinning.

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 x reader #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly fanfic

[dem-obscure-imagines]

The Way it Was Before

Bernard the Elf x Reader

Fandom: The Santa Clause

Summary: Something is VERY wrong this Christmas, and it seems you’re the only person in the world who remembers the way things were before. Well, almost the only person. It’s up to you and the Head Elf to save the day before Jack’s wish becomes irreversible.

Note: I was literally possessed by the spirit of Christmas to write this. I still don’t understand how I whipped this up so fast. Also I have a few ideas kicking around for a sequel, so let me know if that’s something you’re interested in! Additionally, I will be uploading this to Ao3, so if you see it on there too, don't worry hahaha

Warnings: Language, a lil violence as a treat (nothing major just literally a few punches lol), a lil angst but a very happy ending <3

Word Count: 14k

Reader is: Female, 23

Well, that was it, then. It was over. You couldn’t help but feel a little torn up about it. You just weren’t cut out for the job, or maybe you didn’t have the magic for it. Whatever the reason, Mother Nature had made it clear. You were not the Spring Enchantress, and this would be your last foray into the Magical Realm for a very long time, if you ever set foot in it again.

Mother Nature had to visit Santa at the North Pole. You weren’t sure why, she didn’t tell you what she was there to pick up, but she did give you some time on your own to explore the Workshop for the last time.

Wanting to get away from the wandering eyes, you found a secluded nook and sat down, resting your head in your hands. You loved the Pole. It was so intricate and beautiful and whimsical and you would never see it again. You’d never step foot in Mother Nature’s Grotto or the Summer Isles, or even Halloweentown.

It hit you all at once and the tears came flowing before you could stop them. You just hoped none of the elves were around to find you. You didn’t want to worry them when they were already so busy.

“(Y/N), right?” a voice asked, drawing your attention to the doorway where he was standing. Bernard, the Head Elf. Your eyes wandered over his shoulder to the sign on the door. Of course, your crying spot had to be directly outside his office. Figured.

“Right. Yeah. Sorry.” You wiped at the tears, trying to compose yourself. You motioned to the door. “I didn’t realize…”

He shook his head. “That’s alright. Is something wrong?”

“I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m sorry, I can—”

“No, you’re no bother at all. Come on in. My couch is a lot comfier than that bench there.” He motioned you forward and you hesitated, but got up and walked into his office, a large, cozy room with forest green walls, hardwood floors, a small fireplace, a cozy couch, and a desk facing it. There was a shelf of snow globes on one wall, a shelf of old leather books on another.

Bernard motioned to the couch and you took a seat while he perched himself on the edge of his desk. He plucked a tissue out of the box and handed it to you, empathy etched in his brown eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“It um…Mother Nature…” You spoke slowly, composing your words. “She said I’m not the Spring Enchantress like she thought. So um…I’m getting my memory wiped and heading back to the Mortal Realm. Tomorrow, I think.”

“Wiped? Like entirely?” Bernard said, horror in his voice.

“I mean, I’ll still know who I was before I started training under her, but…all of the magic stuff, all of this…” You shook your head. “I knew it was all too good to be true.”

“I am so sorry this is happening to you.” He shook his head. “It’s not fair.”

“Yeah…” You nodded, wiping your tears on the tissue he’d given you. “I’m just glad she brought me here one last time. It’s so beautiful here.”

Bernard smiled softly. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a small snow globe, waving a hand over it before handing it to you. “Even if you won’t remember this place…I’d like you to take a piece of it with you.”

You took a shaking breath, more tears flowing at his words, at the sincerity on his face, at the beautiful snow globe he’d given you. You stood to accept it and found yourself hugging him instead, seeking comfort from the most powerful elf in the Pole. His arms wrapped tight around you, comforting you at your most vulnerable.

“Thank you. So much. Even if I don’t remember it, I…I think I’ll still know. That it’s real. That all of this is.”

“Believing is Seeing.” Bernard said, meeting your eyes. “Someday, you’ll remember that.”

You hoped he was right…

THREE YEARS LATER

Leaving your Irish Folklore class, you were absolutely buzzing with ideas. It had been an amazing lesson. Your professor was very knowledgeable on all sorts of legends and fantasy creatures, where they’d come from, how stories about them had started. You, as a writer, were planning on using this knowledge to write an epic fantasy romance. You weren’t sure what exactly it would be about; you were still waiting for it to click, but you were sure it would eventually.

You walked to your favorite coffee shop, a little ways from your apartment, and grabbed a hot cocoa with extra whipped cream, your favorite around this time of year, sitting down with your work at your favorite table in the corner of the shop.

You took out your notebooks, comparing the notes you’d taken in class to the ones you had left over from…before. The inklings, few though they were, that had lingered in your mind, even after Mother Nature, yes, that Mother Nature, had supposedly wiped them all from existence. Granted, there wasn’t very much left from your time with her, just a few things: the Northern Lights dancing across the sky as you…as you…no, see, there it was. Nothing.

That was all that was left, pieces. And the snow globe on your shelf that you knew was more than just a snow globe, but you couldn’t remember why. Or who’d given it to you.

Sometimes you felt crazy, pushing against the walls of your memory, begging it for just one more detail, but that was how it had been for the last three years. You knew you weren’t making it up, that it was more than just fantasy, but you couldn’t tell anyone. Not even your therapist. The looks wouldn’t be worth it.

So you kept these things to yourself, jotting them down to get them out of your head. Or, rather, keeping them safe in case someday Mother Nature came to finish what she started, wiping it all away for good.

You worked on an outline for a short story for your creative writing class, but you didn’t feel all that confident in it. You sipped your cocoa some more, which had cooled to perfection, and opened an article you were supposed to read for your Folklore class. Something about elves. Festive, you thought with a chuckle. It was indeed the season for that, especially since that had been your last class before Christmas. A perfect send-off for the end of the semester.

Once you’d gotten a decent amount of work done, you packed up your stuff and headed back to your apartment, setting your bag in your room. You checked a few things off of your To Do List.

Gleaming on the shelf, your snow globe caught your eye. “Believing is Seeing.” You whispered to yourself, eyebrows knitting together when you did. It sounded familiar, but…you weren’t sure why. Or what it meant.

Down in the living room, your roommates were watching Christmas movies. In a few days, they’d both be headed home for the holidays and you’d be left on your own for a few weeks. You didn’t mind all that much. You did well on your own, in the quiet. You were kind of sad about spending the holidays alone, though.

Maybe you could find a community event to attend. A holiday party or something. Maybe your college would be doing something for the students who were staying. You hoped they’d let you attend even though you were a grad student.

On the TV, a cheesy Hallmark movie played out, the city girl deciding the small town she’d stumbled into was actually the perfect place for her and the handsome lumberjack that worked at the Christmas Tree Farm at the edge of town was actually her soulmate. You chuckled. You didn’t believe in soulmates. Not like that, at least.

“Hey, we’re going to a party tonight. Down at the Kappa House. You want to come?” Your roommate, Cindy, asked.

“Oh! Thank you. I’m alright, though. I’ll order some takeout or something.”

“Alright.” Megan, your other roommate, nodded. “How was your class?”

“Good! Yeah, I’ve just gotta finish this essay and then I’ll be good for the semester.”

“That’s good.” She grinned, sitting cross-legged on the couch.

You sat with the two of them until they got ready to leave, dressed in short red dresses, fishnets, and Santa hats. “Call me if you need a DD.”

“Oh we will.” They giggled, stumbling out the door, each armed with a bottle of cheap wine, leaving you on your own in the apartment. You did as you’d said and ordered some takeout, cranking out the rest of your paper and turning on some Christmas movies. Elf, Home Alone, all of the classics were on.

You felt something in the back of your mind, a little tingle. You froze, staring at the screen. You expected another little piece, a sliver, anything, but the feeling faded as quickly as it came. You sighed, setting your container of Lo Mein on the coffee table. Suddenly, you were tired. Maybe some sleep would help. So, after putting your things away and cleaning up after yourself, you changed into your pajamas and headed to bed.

You stared at the ceiling for a while, trying desperately to jog your memory for the little inkling that was about to emerge earlier, but to no avail. You shook your head and turned onto your side.

Believing is Seeing…

***

The next morning, you felt groggy and decidedly weird. You jotted down the dreams you remembered in your journal and went downstairs to get some breakfast to appease your growling stomach. You poured yourself a bowl of cereal with milk and plopped down in front of the TV, all but dropping it in your lap when you saw what was on the screen.

“Come on up to the North Pole, folks! Christmas Wonderland right at your fingertips! This year, we’re opening our Winter Wonderland Water Park, Hotel, and Resort! Pet the reindeer! Take a photo with an elf! And don’t forget to meet Santa!”

“What the Fuck.”

“Oh! See! I told you! We should go! They have a two for one on the Mistletoe Cruise!” Cindy grinned, hopping over the back of the couch. “Rewind it!”

You did as she said, pausing when the prices were on the screen. It just so happened to be when this so-called Santa was also on screen. Taking one look at him, you could tell something was wrong. His height, his voice, but most of all, his hair, which was frosted and spiked up. He may have been wearing the suit, but that was no Santa.

Chills ran up your arm at the sight of him. No, that was no Santa. That was Jack Frost.

It was coming back to you a little now.

“What…the North Pole…?” You murmured, confused.

“Obviously. What, did your parents never take you as a kid?” Megan asked. “We went all the time when I was growing up.”

“I can’t say they did, no…” You shook your head. No, this was bad. Something was very wrong here. Your stomach sank, veins on fire and chills unending.

You got changed at the speed of light and headed out to town, stopping in the book store next to your favorite coffee shop, where on the front rack was this new Santa’s memoir. It was titled, “Becoming Santa” and you doubted anything in it was anywhere near the truth.

You scooped up a copy of it as well as a book on the history of the Pole. There had to be something in there, some hint, some…someone you could contact. You checked out at the counter and headed next door to the coffee shop, spreading out your books and notes. You grabbed a cocoa with extra whipped cream and a shot of espresso. You knew you’d need the caffeine for whatever lied ahead.

You combed the books extensively, rolling your eyes every paragraph as you waded through Jack’s stuffy memoir. It was…impossible. You couldn’t believe this had all happened overnight. Unless there was magic involved. You cracked open the history of the Pole book, which had pictures, thankfully. You were able to look through and see if there was anyone you recognized. The longer you stared at the pictures, the more it confirmed your suspicions. You had been to the Pole before, but not in the capacity your roommates were discussing. It hadn’t been a theme park, a tacky tourist destination loaded to the brim with money-grabs. No, you had been there when it was a gorgeous, beautiful workshop, full of joy and love and…for lack of better word, Christmas cheer.

A single tear slipped down your cheek and you sat back in your chair, taking it all in. You remembered. Most of it, anyway. There were still bits and pieces that wouldn’t click into place just yet.

“This seat taken?” Someone asked.

You looked up, staring for a long moment as his features came into focus, his kind brown eyes, dark curls, a pointed ear sticking out from under his hat. He was the exact same as the last day you’d seen him, right down to the red tunic embroidered in golden symbols, the tassel necklace around his neck.

You gasped softly. “Bernard?”

Click.

His face split into a grin and a wave of relief swept over him as he all but collapsed into the seat across from you. “Thank the stars. I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“How could I forget?” You asked, mostly to yourself. You had forgotten him. Well, until now. But it was all coming together. Something about seeing him made everything else, all those loose, scattered pieces, finally come together.

“So far, you’re the only one who remembers.”

“Remembers you?”

“No, remembers…the way things were yesterday.” He lowered his voice and you nodded, eyes wide.

“Okay cool, I’m not crazy. Always nice to know.” You sighed, closing the book and sliding it over to him. “I’ve been looking for…I don’t even know what, to be honest, but I knew it wasn’t right.”

“That’s…yeah.” He nodded, flipping through the book before closing it again.

“So what’s going on?”

“No idea. I was on my way out of the Pole when it hit, which is probably why I was spared. All of the elves…” He shook his head, arms crossed. “I don’t have any magic. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Why me?” You asked softly, voice breaking at the edges. “How did you find me?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you since everything happened. I’m really sorry. What happened to you isn’t fair and I understand if you want to stay out of it, but I need your help. You’re the only person I have left.”

“I was on your team the second you sat down.” You told him, earning a tired smile. “So I did find…something. Um…Santa. Our Santa, I mean. When did he…?”

“He put on the coat in 1994.” Bernard replied with certainty.

“Okay that’s not good.” You opened Jack’s memoir to his origin story, in which he claimed to have become aware of his Santa Powers in the same year on the same night. “That never happened. Jack…he must have gone back in time and overwritten things.”

“How would he even have done something like that?” Bernard asked, taking the book from you and reading through the section you’d underlined.

“Father Time,” you mumbled. “Maybe he did something to Father Time.”

“Maybe.” Bernard nodded. “He’s in London. Big Ben. We can head there. But first, we need to find our Santa and pray that he remembers too. If not, our goose may already be cooked.”

***

Bernard ordered a drink for himself and the two of you left the shop, sticking a nice tip in the jar on the way out. You led Bernard to your apartment. Your roommates were still there, buzzing about their impending trip to the North Pole.

“I thought you guys were going home to see your families for the holidays.” You said, prying to see just how much they had changed in this new reality.

“Oh right, right, we were, but this deal is just too good to pass up, you know? My parents will understand. We’ll just celebrate…over spring break or something.”

“Yeah, yeah same. It’ll be fine, I’ll just mail them their presents.” Megan agreed, going right back to vacation planning with Cindy.

You gave Bernard a look that he returned before the two of you went up to your room. You pulled open your laptop and sat on the floor, Bernard looking around your room, eyes careful, admiring every detail until he found it, the snow globe he’d given you still sitting on the shelf.

He smiled softly, picking it up and giving it a shake before setting it back. “You still have it.”

“Of course I do. I’ve had it in all of my apartments. I don’t move anywhere without it.” You smiled and paused, thinking. “Did you…use your magic on it when you gave it to me? Maybe that’s what’s bringing my memory back.”

“No, I only used my magic to inscribe the plaque.” He explained, pointing to where the words were inscribed in curling cursive words, Believing is Seeing. “Something else is protecting your memory, even now.”

“Mother Nature?” You wondered quietly. Then again, if she wanted to protect your memories, why would she have wiped them in the first place? It didn’t make sense, so instead, you turned your attention to Google. “Alright, what’s Santa’s government name? As long as Jack didn’t kill him, we should be able to find him.”

“Scott. Scott Calvin.” Bernard replied, sitting on the carpet beside you, leg brushing against yours. “When we found him, he was living in Illinois. He might still be close to there now.”

“Scott Calvin…” You said quietly, typing his name in the search bar along with Illinois to attempt to narrow down the search results. It was common name, but hopefully not too common. You scrolled through hits from Facebook, showing Bernard the profile pictures to see if there was one he recognized. After all, you never saw Santa when he was still human, only as the Big Man himself.

“There! There, that’s him!” Bernard pointed to one of the Scotts. You clicked on his profile and started scrolling.

Marriage Status: Divorced

Employment: Frost Toys, Illinois

“Frost Toys.” You read, sounding deflated. “Even he’s working for Frost.”

“Can you get a phone number? His business phone maybe?”

“Can do.” You hopped onto his LinkedIn and found his contact, punching in the number and handing your phone to Bernard.

He waited while it rang, shaking his head when it booted him to voicemail. There was a long beep and Bernard said, exasperated, “Hey Scott, this is Bernard. If you remember me, remember anything, please call back. We’re going to fix all of this.”

He hung up and handed the phone back to you, looking disappointed.

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine.”

“Having trouble believing that at the moment.” He exhaled, frustrated. “This is bad.”

“On a scale of zero to plastic Santa…?”

He chuckled, mood lightening the tiniest bit. “You heard about that?”

“It was the talk of the meeting that month.” You laughed, remembering. Your smile faded when you remembered who else had been at that meeting. Maybe that was where Jack had gotten his messed up little idea of world domination.

“I’d take three of that guy before this.” Bernard shook his head. “What now?”

You thought before shrugging. “I guess we’re going to Illinois.”

“You’re serious? You’re coming with me to get Scott?”

“Or what, let you do this on your own? No way. Help me get some stuff together. I just put gas in my car so we should be good for a while.”

He smiled, getting to his feet and pulling you up after him. “Alright, what do you need?”

As quickly as you could, you gathered up the absolute basics: a pair of pajamas, an extra set of clothes, your toothbrush and toothpaste, your hairbrush, extra fuzzy socks, and a phone charger. Once the two of you were done, you stopped in the kitchen to load up on snacks and drinks for the long car ride, garnering looks from your roommates.

“Hey, who’s the guy?” Cindy asked, having missed him on his way in, apparently.

“I’m Bernard, a friend of (Y/N)’s. We have, uh, History together. History class, that is.” He offered his hand, but neither of them shook it, still too wrapped up in their phones and the cruise tickets they were busy booking.

“Ohhhh, right, I think I remember her mentioning you.” Megan nodded, agreeing. “You two going somewhere?”

“Illinois.”

“Why?” Cindy asked. “What’s in Illinois?”

“We’re going to see The Bean. I’ve heard it’s lovely this time of year.” You shrugged. “Probably cheaper than a North Pole trip, too.”

“The Bean…” Bernard chuckled, shaking his head as he shoved a box of Rice Krispy Treats in the snack bag along with some Hershey Kisses and a bag of Twizzlers.

“Okay, Mr. Sweet Tooth, pack some salty stuff for me,” you muttered, elbowing him.

“Heh, right. Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly, packing a few saltier options that would appeal to your human taste buds.

“We probably won’t be back by the time you two leave, so…lock up good, alright?” You asked, meeting each of their eyes.

You loved your roommates. You knew they weren’t usually like this, dropping literally everything for a vacation. It was something about this timeline. Christmas wasn’t…happy like it was supposed to be. It was a bitter, greedy thing that was pushing these girls, who loved their families very much, away from their loved ones during the holidays. It made you sick.

“You alright?” Bernard asked, noticing the moment you began to space out. The last thing he needed was to lose you, too.

“I’m good, yeah. Let’s go.”

***

Hauling your little suitcase and your bag full of snacks, the two of you walked out of the apartment to where you’d parked your car. Thankfully, it was still there, one of the things the new timeline seemed to have no effect on. You slid your suitcase onto the back seat and Bernard set the bag of snacks on the floor in front of the passenger seat.

You settled into the driver’s seat, turning on the car and adjusting the temperature and the mirrors. Bernard fiddled with the radio, looking for Christmas tunes and finding them, catching the end of White Christmas just in time for an announcement from the radio host.

“We’re playing your favorite Christmas Hits all day, 24/7. That was White Christmas by Michael Bublé, up next, Santa’s new hit single, Come Meet Santa.”

“You’re kidding me.” You groaned as an insufferable song started blaring from the speakers, Jack singing about his fancy new resort at the Pole.

“He’s got the reindeer in a petting zoo?” Bernard asked, disheartened as he listened to the lyrics.

“Oh my god…” You shook your head. “We’ve gotta find Scott.”

You connected your own Christmas playlist to the aux cord, doing away with Jack’s twisted idea of Christmas and set up navigation to the Frost Toys office building in Chicago. You figured even if it wasn’t exact, it would get you close enough to Scott by the time he called you back. Well, you hoped he would. Hope was kind of all the two of you had.

You drove out the front gates of your college campus and started heading towards the highway. “Let me know if you need a bathroom break or anything.”

“Alright.” Bernard nodded, still looking tense.

“Did you…try to call the Pole? I don’t know if there’s a special number for that or…?”

“I did. Customer Service put me on hold.”

You blinked. “Customer Service?”

“Yeah we didn’t have that department yesterday.” Bernard crossed his arms and leaned back against the seat, eyes squeezed shut in what you were sure was the immense stress of the situation. “Sounds like Curtis is in charge up there now, though. It’s like I never existed.”

“Oh.” You said, turning on your blinker to get in the faster lane. “I’m really sorry, Bernard.”

“Yeah, it’s…we’re gonna fix it.” He insisted, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “We have to.”

“We will.” You assured him.

He chuckled darkly. “This whole time, all I’ve been able to think about is how…this…what I’m going through now is what you’ve been going through for the past three years.”

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t really know what I was missing out on until today.”

“How do you mean?”

“Something about you showing up jogged my memory. Before that, it was just little tiny bits and pieces. If it weren’t for your snow globe, I definitely would have thought I was losing my mind. I remembered Mother Nature and the…role she played in this, I guess, but I could not have told you what she looks like. All I’ve had is the idea of her.”

“And now?”

“Now I remember. Pretty much everything, I think. Santa, the Pole, you, all of it.”

“Well that’s good for us.” Bernard chuckled.

“And when it’s over, I’m sure she’ll just…wipe me all over again.”

“I will see to it myself that that does not happen.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe she ever did that to you to begin with. Lead you on like that just to drop you like nothing happened.”

“Yeah.” You shrugged, letting out a sigh. “I don’t know, I just…like I said to you that day in your office—I think, it’s still a little fuzzy—I always knew it was a little too good to be true. I always felt like I just…I was the puzzle piece that didn’t fit. That there was this big, beautiful, magical world out there, but I wasn’t meant to…be part of it, I guess.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Bernard shook his head. “I’m 1600 years old and I’ve never met someone who doesn’t have a place. And having met you, I can guarantee you do belong. If Mother Nature can’t see that, then that’s her loss.”

You smiled softly. “Thanks.”

“You know, we can always use a hand in the ornament department.”

“I’d work anywhere you stuck me just to be able to hang out at the Pole again.”

“See, that’s the spirit.” He laughed.

The two of you drove for a handful of hours and you did decide to stop for gas, just to be safe. That, and you were really craving a gas station slushee. So, you filled the tank while Bernard grabbed the two of you some slushees for the rest of the drive down.

While he was standing there, there was a weird, floaty feeling about him. For a moment, his hands began to fade, sparkles taking their place, but as soon as you walked through the doors, the bell jingling above your head, the feeling went away and he exhaled a sigh of relief, feeling solid again.

“You alright?” You asked, voice hushed.

He squeezed his eyes shut, nodding before daring to meet your gaze. Never in his millennia and a half had he ever felt so weak.

“Bernard?”

“I’m fine!” He insisted, raising his voice slightly, but softening when he met your eyes again. “Sorry, I’m…fine.”

“Hang in there.” You whispered, standing closer to him. “I can’t lose you, too.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything. The two of you went back out to the car, sipping your slushees and turning the Christmas music back on when it was interrupted suddenly by an incoming call.

You looked at Bernard and he reached over, putting the call on speaker. “Hello?”

“Bernard? Is that you?” Santa’s voice came out of the speakers and you sighed in relief.

“Santa? Oh thank the stars.” Bernard closed his eyes, a long breath working out of his lungs.

“What the hell is going on? Where are you?”

“We’re about an hour from Frost Toys. We did some research and found this, uh, new job of yours.”

“Don’t get me started.” He chuckled. “I’ll send my apartment address. Does this number work? Whose phone is this, I didn’t know you had a cell phone.”

“I don’t. It’s a long story, but I’m with a friend and we’re on the way.”

“Good. Well then, I’ll see you two soon. The sooner the better.” Scott sounded very relieved. He hung up and texted over your new destination, which was just a little ways further than the building you were already heading towards.

With new fervor, you pulled out of the gas station and got back on the highway, reaching Scott’s apartment with speeds even Bernard was impressed by. You pulled into the parking garage, got your little orange slip to put on the dash, and took the elevator into the building. Scott buzzed you upstairs and you met him outside the door of the snazzy, modern downtown apartment. At the very least, this timeline had given him a cushy job. He ushered the two of you inside.

“Bernard.” Scott greeted, hugging his Head Elf briefly before the two turned back to you. “I’ve never been so relieved to see you.”

“Likewise.” Bernard sighed.

“And you are…?”

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).” You introduced, offering your hand. “I don’t expect you to—”

“Oh! You were Mother Nature’s apprentice for a bit, weren’t you?” He asked, remembering.

“Yeah. That was me.” You nodded, deciding to spare him the gritty details. “I’m here to help save Christmas.”

“That might be easier said than done…”

“(Y/N) thinks Jack might have used time travel to do this. We were planning on going to see Father Time to see if any of this is something he can fix, or…or if Jack did something to him and that’s how he accomplished all of this.”

“It wasn’t Father Time.” Scott shook his head. “Jack tricked me with a wishing snow globe. Made me wish I had never been Santa and…took the coat for himself.”

“Oh.” Bernard murmured, nodding. “The Escape Clause. Well that would do it, then.”

“There’s gotta be some way to undo this.” Scott said. “It can’t just be over. This can’t be it. Carol…she doesn’t even know who I am.”

“Mrs. Claus?” You asked softly and he nodded solemnly.

You’d met her on a few occasions and she had always been so nice to you, relieved to have another human-ish woman at the Pole, as she said, which always earned a laugh from you. And now, she was a school principal again at a public school who didn’t believe in Christmas anymore. Even Mrs. Claus wasn’t safe from Jack’s trickery.

“Okay, so…we go to the Pole, then. Get…plane tickets, I guess. My roommates were planning their vacation there when we left, so if they can do it, I’m sure we can.”

“Definitely.” Scott nodded, searching for tickets on his phone.

“We go there, find that snow globe, and undo all of this, set it right, the way it’s supposed to be.” You said, determined.

“You think it’ll work?” Scott asked Bernard and he thought over it for a long time before nodding.

“It has to.”

***

Scott booked three tickets for the earliest flight in the morning, at five. You changed into pajamas so you could attempt to get some sleep, and Bernard put something on the TV. You emerged from Scott’s guest bedroom, face wiped clean of makeup, hair freshly brushed, and cute little penguins on your pajama pants. Bernard grinned.

“What?”

“Penguins?”

“I thought they were cute.” You defended, shrugging as you plopped down on the couch next to him.

“I never said they weren’t.” He shrugged, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“Hey, pizza sound good, you two?” Scott called from the kitchen.

“Sounds perfect.” You replied.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Bernard agreed, flipping channels until he found what he was looking for. Ah yes, the Christmas movies. Specifically, the stop-motion Rankin/Bass movies you’d watched during your childhood. Absolute classics.

You gasped, childlike wonder filling your features. “Oh, I love this one.”

“You like these movies?”

“I’ve seen just about all of them, I think. We always used to watch them when I was a kid. These were my childhood. I like them a lot more than the Hallmark movies my roommates are always watching.”

“Rightfully so.” Bernard agreed. “These guys just…got it.”

“Better than anyone else.” You sat criss-cross on the couch. “Riddle me this, Mr. Head Elf, is Rudolph real?”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, (Y/N), but no, he is not.”

“No! What? You’re lying!” You covered your face with your hands. “My life is a lie.”

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that.” He laughed. “Rudolph is not one of our reindeer. The rest all are, though. Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen.”

“Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen?” You asked.

Bernard smiled, proud. “Precisely.”

“Hey,” Scott held the phone away from his face for a second, covering the microphone with his hand, “pepperoni good? Thin crust?”

“Sounds good to me, Santa.” Bernard gave a thumbs-up. He could not, for the life of him, remember the last time he’d even had pizza.

“Yeah, I love thin crust.” You agreed.

“Great.” He nodded and walked back towards the kitchen again, finalizing the pizza order.

The commercial break hit with, of course, an ad for the North Pole Waterpark and Resort. There were clips of miserable elves playing games in the arcade, forced to work as lifeguards in the waterpark, facilitating the reindeer petting zoo.

You frowned, that familiar feeling of dread settling into your stomach again. This was awful.

“That’s Betty, there, in the green. Third in command. Second, now, I guess. She looks…”

“Miserable.” You finished.

“Yeah.” Bernard nodded. He let out a frustrated shout. “I can’t believe this is happening! Look at them! Look at what he’s done to the Pole!”

Bernard took a shaking breath and slumped back against the couch, his lack of magic hitting him once again and that floaty, sparkly feeling returning.

“Bernard?” You asked, voice rising in concern.

“It’s my magic. The magic of the Pole, of Christmas, everything. Elves are…well, we’re basically made of magic, so if we don’t fix this, and soon…” He shook his head, words trailing off into hopelessness.

“Take some of mine.” You said, quiet, but certain.

He stared at you for a long moment. “What?”

“Take some of my magic.” You told him, more confident this time.

“You still have magic?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“And no idea how to use it, but you do. You need it more than I do right now.”

“O-okay.” He nodded, sitting up a little straighter.

You unfurled your legs, turning to face him. You turned his hands so they were in a receiving position and placed your palms on his, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes to focus yourself, tuning into the fragments of magic still inside of you and then pushing them towards him, through his hands, up his arms, into his chest.

He flinched a little at the feeling, the sharp, cold tingle, but his eyes widened when he saw it, your magic, flowing into him. It was iridescent, teal and purple and pink and blue, waves ebbing and flowing, its gentle glow lighting up your features in the dim room, your hair blowing around softly in the gentle breeze it created.

It looked like the Northern Lights.

He pulled away after a few long moments, stopping the flow. You opened your eyes to look at him.

“Do you feel better?” You asked, concern etched deep in your gaze, pulling at his heart strings in a way he hadn’t felt in centuries.

“A lot better. Thank you,” he said. “But save some for yourself. That might be what’s protecting your memories.”

“Right.” You nodded, thinking. “That makes sense.”

It was quiet, the murmur of the TV the only sound other than Scott in the kitchen, getting dishes out in anticipation of the pizzas arriving, their ceramic clattering against the fancy marble counters you’d spotted on your way in.

You looked at Bernard, really looked at him for the first time. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been crushing on him a little bit, back when you were acquaintances, when he was the knowledgeable, responsible, somewhat stern Head Elf with a heart of gold and you were Mother Nature’s apprentice, vying for a destiny you would not receive.

You remembered the way your heart would lurch when he peeked into the meetings you sat in on, with the rest of the Legendary Figures, and occasionally, the Guardians of the Seasons, if their presence was necessary.

One of the other elves, you were pretty sure her name was Abby, had given you a tour the first time you were there, she’d introduced you to him, and she’d also called to attention the way your cheeks went rosy the moment you walked away from him.

You wondered if he thought of you, if he had those memories too, tucked away someplace special, or if you were just another passerby in his long, long life. Sometimes you almost forgot he was hiding a thousand years behind that youthful face.

Sitting there, you weren’t sure if it was him who started leaning in or you, but it stopped as soon as Scott called for you from the other room, like a scratched record in the middle of a sweet, slow Christmas ballad, pulling you both back down to reality.

“Pizza.” You chuckled, standing up from the couch. Maybe it was the lighting, but you swore Bernard’s cheeks were rosier than they had been before.

“Right. Pizza.”

The two of you walked out to the kitchen together and sat on the barstools pulled up to the counter, grabbing slices of the thin-crust pepperoni.

“So, I booked the North Pole tickets. I also booked us tickets from there to London…Just in case.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Bernard chuckled.

“Hey, you look better.” Scott noted.

“I’m feeling a lot better, too.” Bernard motioned to you. “(Y/N) here still has a few tricks up her sleeve.”

“Good. We’re gonna need all the magic we can get.”

***

You didn’t get very much sleep before your alarm went off. It had been about what you were expecting. You never slept well when you were stressed.

You did, however, have a dream.

You were sitting in a meeting with Mother Nature and the Guardians, the two of them that were left after the Spring Enchantress’ retirement. Of course, you were training up to fill the position, so it wouldn’t remain empty for long.

Mother Nature led the meeting, held in the giant tree at the center of her Grotto, glancing at her watch every few minutes until finally, he showed up. Jack Frost. Even then, chills ran up your spine, though, at the time, you were convinced it was a side effect of his existence in general.

“Sorry I’m late, ladies. Had quite the hold up in Toronto.” He shrugged, sliding into the fifth seat at the round table, a snowflake embedded in the crystalline mosaic on the table’s surface. “What are we talking about?”

“You, actually.” Mother Nature stated, sitting up straighter. “We were wondering how the search for the Aurora was going, since you’ve elected to take on the task yourself.”

“Ah, yes, well, it’s certainly not easy. Winter Guardians don’t just fall from the sky, you know. But I’ve searched all of the places she used to pop up. Hence my overlay in Canada.” Jack shrugged. “And besides, it’s been five centuries since we’ve had one, I think we’re doing just fine without her.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” The Autumn Witch, a gorgeous young woman named Amber Sanderson, interjected, meeting him with her sharp gaze. Her long, curly orange hair was as beautiful as the autumn leaves, brown skin smooth and ageless, even after her thirty or so years on the council. She didn’t look a day over twenty-five.

“Then what would you say, Ms. Sanderson?” Jack countered, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “If you have a problem with the way I’m running things, I’d prefer if you were forward about it.”

“We have been.” Evangeline Cho agreed, the Summer Sorceress. As her season had just started, she was glowing even more brilliantly than she usually did. “Every year, winter creeps further and further into autumn and spring. And it seems you haven’t done anything to stop it.”

“What, I can’t control that! I’m getting more powerful! It’s merely a side effect.”

“Which is precisely why we need someone on this council who can control their abilities. Such as an Aurora, which you were tasked with finding nearly a century ago, Frost.” Mother Nature stated, her voice cool and even. “If you’d like one of us to find her instead—”

“Oh no, no, that won’t be necessary. I promise you, by next winter, we will have an Aurora again and I’ll go back to managing snow days and frosting window panes.” He drew an X over his heart. “Cross my heart.”

“Excellent.” Mother Nature nodded. “Meeting adjourned.”

You blinked awake in time with Mother Nature’s gavel, staring at the ceiling of Scott’s guest room. That wasn’t a dream. You were certain. It was a memory. You’d have to tell the others.

***

Once your alarm went off, you got dressed and met Scott and Bernard in the entryway of the apartment. Bernard, who hadn’t changed his clothes, had one pointed ear sticking out the brim of his hat, a dead giveaway if there ever was one. You rummaged through your carry on and produced a knitted hat you’d made a few years back, motioning to his ear.

“Oh. Right. Thanks.” He nodded, swapping his usual headwear for the hat you gave him, slipping it on with ease. “Where’d you get this?”

“I made it. I knit.”

He chuckled, checking his reflection to make sure he was covered well. “Well aren’t you just full of surprises?”

“As we’re both learning.”

Scott drove the three of you to the airport and you arrived early, hoping your plane would be a little ahead of schedule, but when you found it was actually delayed an hour, it gave you time to grab drinks at the coffee shop.

“Hot cocoa, shot of espresso, extra whipped cream, please.” You ordered, Bernard just behind you.

“I’ll have the same, but make it a double shot.”

“Coming right up,” the barista nodded, setting to work.

Outside, the sun was just beginning to rise, filling the sky with orange and pink, sunlight glistening on the icicles hanging from the windows. You smiled, appreciating the quiet moment despite the dread looming overhead.

Once your drinks were ready, you joined Scott on a chair near the windows.

“So um, I had a dream last night. I think it was a memory from before.” You said, not sure how else to bring it up.

“What was it about?” Scott asked, curious.

“I was at a meeting with Mother Nature and the Guardians. Jack was there, sitting in for…the Aurora, I guess.”

“The Winter Aurora.” Bernard replied, nodding.

“What is that?” Scott asked, unfamiliar with the term.

“Well, there’s a Guardian for each season, often a woman, gifted with the powers of that specific time of year. They work with their Legendary Figures to oversee the flow of time and ensure everything is on schedule. The Spring Enchantress, the Summer Sorceress, the Autumn Witch, and the Winter Aurora.” Bernard explained. “We haven’t had an Aurora at the Pole in 500 years…”

“Well that would explain why I’ve never heard of her.” Scott nodded, thinking. “So Jack took her job?”

“Yeah, they were talking about his…powers increasing, I’m assuming because he was getting buffed by her powers in addition to his. And how winter is creeping into autumn and spring because of it.”

“That’s not good.” Bernard shook his head. “The seasons have to be balanced. Jack’s hunger for power is messing up the eco system.”

“Mother Nature said he was supposed to be looking for her, and I don’t know…maybe he just…wasn’t looking.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Bernard took a long sip of his cocoa. “I’ll add that to the top of my list as soon as we get everything else back to normal.”

As soon as you finished your drinks, the plane started boarding, so you followed after Scott and onto the plane. Through the windows in the walkway, you could see the plane, giant, winter blue, and emblazoned with a giant picture of Jack Frost’s Santa impression, giving a thumbs-up.

“I’m gonna puke.” You rolled your eyes.

“Ditto.”

The three of you boarded and settled into your seats, all in a row. Scott had brought his laptop along to do some research on the flight. He figured it was better to go in with something of a plan than be blindsided by whatever you found on the other side. You had a feeling the Pole would look a lot different than last you’d seen it.

You settled into the window seat and got as comfortable as you could. For a supposedly luxury flight, the seats were surprisingly stiff. Knowing Jack, you should have expected him to cut corners, even in his power fantasy brought to life.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Bernard asked, voice soft.

“As well as I can, I guess.” You shrugged. “I’m glad I’m not doing this alone.”

He nodded, eyes meeting yours, soft and serious. “I am, too.”

A lady in a flowery dress walked past, her perfume so strong, you caught a whiff of it from the window seat, its floral scent immediately tickling your nose. You tried your best to suppress the sneeze, but to no avail. You sneezed two times, waiting for a third, but it never came.

“Jeez.” You shook your head, reaching for the Benedryl in your bag.

“What’s that for?”

“My allergies. That lady’s perfume was pretty strong.” You chuckled.

“You have allergies?” Bernard asked, eyes narrowing. “Spring allergies.”

“…Yeah?”

“You have spring allergies and Mother Nature thought you were the new Spring Enchantress?” Bernard asked, looking skeptical. He knew Mother Nature. She was an intelligent, almost all-knowing being. He knew she wouldn’t make a mistake that obvious.

“That part never made sense to me either.” You shrugged.

“She thought you were a Spring, but…you’re obviously more of a Winter. I might be a bit biased, though.” He smirked.

Your heart raced when he said it, the realization hitting you that he was flirting. You were getting hit on by Santa’s Head Elf. That was something not everyone could say.

“I mean, I was born in December. The 21st.”

Suddenly, his flirting demeanor was gone, replaced instead by a look of realization, like you had just given him the last piece of the puzzle he’d been trying to solve since the day you left the Pole. “The Winter Solstice…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Let me see that, Santa.” Bernard took the laptop from Scott’s lap desk, clumsily navigating with the mousepad and punching something into the search bar. “Where was it your parents are from, (Y/N)?”

“I grew up in South Carolina. We were supposed to live in Michigan, but Dad got a job opportunity at the last minute, so we moved right after I was born.”

“Whereabouts?”

“Traverse City.”

“Hmm…” Bernard clicked through articles a bit before finding a story that made your heart race. “Is…Is this the house?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s…Oh my god.” You covered your mouth, reading through the article. Three months after your family had moved out, there had been a freak snow storm that took out half the houses in the neighborhood. And your house had been hit the worst, the roof over what would have been your nursery was caved in completely.

“Jack hasn’t been not looking for the Aurora. He’s been killing her every time she’s popped up.” Bernard concluded, a horrified look on his face.

“Wait. So you’re saying…” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m…”

“Mother Nature appointed you Spring Enchantress to throw him off of your scent.” He said. “That has to be it. It’s the only explanation.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, fingers shaking as you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants. “I…I mean, wouldn’t I know? I’m not…special. Not like that…”

“Are you kidding me?” Bernard asked, incredulous. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. (Y/N), I’ve seen your magic. It’s the only think keeping me alive right now. It…” He reached for your hand, positioning your palm so it was facing upwards and as soon as he did, a wave of stunning Northern Lights glowed between your fingers. “Do you see that? I’ve seen Aurora magic. This is that. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner…”

“Woah.” Scott muttered, eyes falling on the scene unfolding between the two of you.

You curled your fingers, pulling the magic back into yourself and extinguishing the light. You sat with it for a moment and met Bernard’s gaze. “He tried to kill me.” You murmured, tears brimming in your eyes. “He tried to kill me for…for power? For a title?”

“We’re not going to let him get away with it.” Scott stated, fire in his gaze. “We’re not going to let him get away with any of it.”

You felt a tingling on your head and watched as white trickled from your scalp down to the ends of the piece of hair at the front of your face. Your heart raced and you touched the hair with shaking fingers.

It was real now. You were the Winter Aurora. And you had a feeling the closer you got to the Pole, the more evident that would become…

***

By the time the plane landed, the three of you were settled on a plan. Scott, Jack’s biggest priority, would cause a distraction, buying time for you two. Bernard would find the elves and try to snap them out of it. You, as the only one Jack wouldn’t fully recognize, would go find the snow globe and get it to Scott so he could undo his wish and fix everything.

Was it a perfect plan? No. But it was all you had, so it would have to be enough.

You walked off of the plane together, hoping the streak of white in your hair wouldn’t draw too much attention. Once you were inside the gates, the three of you huddled, finalizing your plan.

“You’re going to be fine on your own? Do you know how to get to the snow globe room?” Scott checked.

“I’m…being here…yeah, I’m definitely gonna be able to find it.” You nodded, still completely blown away by the powerful waves of magic, hitting you all at once for the first time. “It’s all coming back to me.”

Bernard grinned, hopeful. “Good. Good luck.”

“You too. Stay safe. I…I really don’t trust him. What he’s capable of…” You said warily.

The Head Elf shook his head, confident. “Is nothing compared to what you are.”

“Let’s save Christmas.” Scott announced.

The three of you split off. You watched as Bernard and Scott walked away together, Scott playfully nudging Bernard. About what, you couldn’t be certain, but you had a pretty good feeling it had something to do with you.

Cheeks flushed for more reason than one, you took off, following the swirling feeling around your heart, dodging past security elves with a stealth and speed you didn’t know you possessed. It was like muscle memory, suppressed very deep in the core of your being. A power you had never tapped into, but one that was quick to embrace you. You felt it in your soul, the Pole wanted you there, and it was very glad you’d returned.

Following the instructions Scott and Bernard had given you, you walked briskly down the corridors, slinking past bakery elves on their way to one of the many tourist eating spots. The workshop itself sat big and empty, barely an elf in sight. The few that were there looked tired, sad, working on tacky Santa Claus bobble heads and cheap gift shop pens. It broke your heart.

Distant voices echoed against the cavernous halls. In your mind, you heard echoes, too. Laughter and love and light, elves building toys, creating things together, working to make the kids of the world happy, no matter what it took. The workshop had been wrapped in pine trim and string lights, warm and bright.

Now, it sat dark and empty.

You wiped a tear from your cheek and continued down the hall, to where the entrance to the Hall of Snowglobes was. And at its entrance, was Betty, who stared at you for a long moment as though trying to place where she recognized you from, but quickly shook it off.

“You can’t be back here. No visitors allowed. I can escort you back to the main area, though.” She offered, smiling.

“Your name is Betty, right?”

She hesitated. “How did you…? Nevermind that, you’re still not allowed back here.”

“I have to be back here.” You told her. “It’s important. The fate of Christmas depends on it.”

“Well, the fate of Christmas depends on me doing my job, so if you’ll follow me this way.”

“I can’t do that, Betty.” You shook your head. “And I know you don’t want to either. Don’t you see that all of this is wrong? That what Jack’s done to the Pole, the capitalism, the resort, the gift shops, the reindeer in the petting zoo, this is not what Christmas is supposed to be. You know that. I know you know that.”

Betty’s features saddened and for a moment, you thought you’d won her over until she reached for a walkie talkie. “Security, we’ve got a tourist that needs to be removed from the Workshop.”

“Great.” You huffed, summoning your power to your hand, just as Bernard had shown you. But instead of sending a blast of energy at her, you let it slowly waft over, rainbow colors and dancing lights slowly enveloping her. As the magic hit her face, she blinked through it, eyes awash in the pinks and teals and purples. Yet another streak of white flowed through your hair.

She dropped to her knees and stared up at you, tears in her eyes as it all came flooding back. Her voice fell to a whisper. “You’re our Aurora.”

“I am.” You nodded, feeling confident in your title for the first time. “And I need your help. We don’t have much time.”

“Bernard, he’s gone! He—”

“He came here with me. We have to hurry. We need that snow globe.” You told her and she nodded.

You helped Betty to her feet and she ushered you into the Hall of Snowglobes, carefully plucking the little glass orb that had started all of this off of its pedestal and handing it to you. You held it with careful hands, admiring it. It was beautiful, if not absolutely dangerous.

“We’ve gotta get this to Santa.” You told her.

She nodded, following you out of the Workshop and into the bustling center of town, an absolute sensory overload if there ever was one. Tourists packed the streets, vendors were shouting over the noise, and above it all, speakers were blaring Jack’s Christmas Album, each new song worst than the one before it.

There was a massive stage, covered in fake ice and bright lights, and on said stage, was him, Jack Frost in all of his faux Santa glory, his red suit iced at the ends, hair spiked and ridiculous, like icicles. Behind him, was a row of toy soldiers and in their grasp was none other than Bernard, eyes wide in fear as Jack manifested a blast of snow in his hand.

“(Y/N)!” Scott shouted over the crowd, waving wildly to get your attention.

“Get this to Scott.” You handed the snow globe to Betty, urgency in your voice and your eyes. “I’ve gotta get Bernard.”

“On it.” She took the globe from you and weaved through the crowd expertly. You ran towards the stage as though everything was moving in slow motion.

“This guy isn’t Santa! He’s trying to ruin Christmas!” Bernard shouted, voice cracking as he did.

Jack laughed loudly, and the crowd assembled did the same. “Do you hear him? I am Santa! Without me, there would be no Christmas! What gives you the right to say any of this?”

“I’m the Head Elf!” Bernard insisted, struggling against the toy soldiers. “I’ve seen a thousand Christmases and dozens of Santas! You are nothing compared to any of them!”

“Alright, tough guy, you think I’m not Santa? How about I show you what a real Santa is capable of?” Jack threatened, ice in his voice. He raised his hand to freeze Bernard and you dove onto the stage, tackling Jack to the ground, earning a loud gasp and several concerned voices from the crowd.

“Don’t you dare touch him, you fucking narcissistic popsicle!” You shouted, getting a good punch in before retreating to Bernard’s side, kicking the toy soldier behind him and pulling apart the large ribbon bow binding his wrists. Parents covered their children’s ears, shielding them from the harsh language. Some of the crowd cleared out, retreating to a safer distance, while others pulled out their phones, desperate to go viral on YouTube.

“Come on.” You grabbed Bernard’s hand and he squeezed yours, following you off of the stage and through the crowd to where Scott stood with the snow globe. He shook it and made a wish, but nothing happened.

“What?” Scott asked, trying again. “It won’t work.”

“It’s the Escape Clause.” Bernard closed his eyes, remembering the rules. “Jack made this wish. He’s…he’s Santa now; he’s the only one who can undo this.”

“Oh my god.” A wave of dread flowed over you.

“And those, my dears, are the words I will never utter.” Jack said, dusting himself off and sauntering over to the four of you, his security not far behind, ready to apprehend all of you. “It was a nice try, though. Really valiant effort, all four of you. Scott, Bernard, Betty…and you. I can’t say I recognize you.”

“Maybe if you had half a braincell, you would.”

He scoffed, offended. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. They’ll figure that much out when they get you to jail, I suppose.” He shrugged and the security officers seized the four of you, taking the snow globe and giving it back to Jack. He tossed it in the air cockily a few times before chuckling. “You know, I don’t need this thing. I’m never going to wish all of this away.”

Frost tendrils crept up the glass dome and in a great burst of light, it shattered. You gasped, feeling the magic settle. This was it. This was reality now. There was no way to undo it.

“O-oh.” Bernard took a stuttered breath, faltering. He collapsed to the ground and you pushed away from security, rushing to his side and collecting him in your arms.

“Bernard?”

He shook his head. You raised a hand to give him more of your magic, but he lowered it with his own. “You have to finish this, Aurora.” He said, eyes serious, glimmering despite the pain you could tell he was in. “You’re the only one who can.”

He leaned forward, a hand brushing the hair away from your face, capturing your lips with his own, his kiss soft and tender, tasting faintly of peppermint, and then he disappeared in a burst of sparkles, his silver and gold magic drifting forward into your chest.

You gasped, tears rolling down your cheeks, arms empty and heart emptier. “No! NO! What did you do to him?” You turned, facing Jack.

“The only thing I could. Protecting Christmas from the likes of you.” He shrugged. “What was it he called you? Autumn? Is that your name? Autumn?”

“No.” You told him, rising to your feet, pure magic lifting you from the ground and setting you on your feet.

His eyes widened and he took a step back.

“I’m the Aurora.” You rose into the air, teals and purples and pinks swirling around you in a rush of power. You raised your hand, manifesting the snow globe within it, its broken shards reforming in your grasp, effortless and precise. Once it was whole again, you shook it, magic swirling within its waters, overriding the rules of the Escape Clause with rules of your own.

A voice came out of you then that you weren’t sure was your own. It came deep from your chest, echoing across the pole, accompanied by a wave of power, the same magic you’d used on Betty, but tenfold, fierce and fiery, prickling like static all down your arms as it left you.

“May Everything Return to the Way it Was Before, to the Way it was Always Meant to Be.”

And with one final rush of magic, everything went white.

***

It took a while for the picture to form in front of you, your hearing distorted, the colors slowly coming back one by one.

You were kneeling there in the center of the Workshop, which was full of elves, their work paused as they watched the scene unfolding. Scott was Santa once more, wearing his red undershirt and suspenders, looking jollier than you’d ever seen him. Carol stood beside him, looking confused.

Mother Nature was there, as was Tooth, and, of course, Jack Frost, wearing his signature blue suit as opposed to the red one he’d been wearing moments earlier.

You got to your feet, looking for Bernard in the crowd, but not finding him. Your heart lurched, your search brought to a halt by Jack’s nasally voice.

“Aw, come on now, kid, no hard feelings, right?”

Rather than replying, you wound up and punched him square in the jaw with more force than you were used to possessing.

“OOOOOOOH…” The elves murmured, wincing as Jack fell to the ground, gripping his face.

“I’m going to ask you one last time and you are going to answer me. What. Did you do to him.” You demanded, a fierce power zinging through you.

“I didn’t do anything to him! This is all a big misunderstanding! Right, Santa? Tooth? Back me up on this!” Jack groveled, shielding his face with both hands, cowering in fear.

“Can’t do that, Jack.” Scott shook his head. “You have to answer to her.”

“Where is Bernard?”

“I feel like there are more pressing issues at hand—” Jack deflected, shrinking further away from you.

“What’s that?” One of the elves asked, pointing to a column of sparkles manifesting beside you.

You turned to look, staring at it until it clicked. Reaching into yourself, you let the last pieces of Bernard’s magic flow out of your chest, where it had retreated for safekeeping. Silver and gold glitter rushed out of you, swirling from the ground up until he was standing there again, solid and real.

He all but collapsed into your arms, holding onto you tightly while he found his balance again.

“Bernard,” you sobbed, holding him close, your arms desperate to prove he was real again, that he was solid and wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hey, no need for tears, Aurora. I’m alright.” He grinned, meeting your gaze. His hand rose to your cheek and he wiped your tears away as he took you in for all that you were. “Thanks to you, I am.”

“(Y/N)?” Mother Nature asked, voice soft and warm.

“I…I can explain.” You insisted, turning to face her.

“No need, dear one. I know why you’re here. I’ve always known.” She smiled, bowing her head. “And now that you’re here, we can finish this.”

You looked to Bernard and he nodded, letting go of you to give you a gentle push forward, his eyes proud and supportive.

“Kneel.” She instructed, and you did, dropping to one knee in front of her.

The elves fell silent, desperate to witness what was unfolding for the first time in centuries.

“(Y/N) (L/N), through your bravery and selflessness, you have proven what I’ve known all along. You are the Aurora Borealis, the Winter Guardian, and Protector of the North Pole and all her Magic. For the first time in five centuries, the North Pole has an Aurora, which means…” She looked to Jack, who shook his head desperately.

“No. No way. I am not giving an ounce of my power to that…that…she punched me! Twice! Did none of you see that? She’s violent!”

“After everything you did to the Auroras before her, you’re lucky all she did was punch you!” Bernard snapped, arms crossed. “Not to mention the fact you destroyed her house in an attempt to kill her.”

Jack gasped in faux shock. “What, me? I…I would never—!”

“Jack.” Mother Nature reprimanded sharply. “You don’t have to give her the power. It was never yours to begin with.”

She outstretched a hand and, as easily as turning on a faucet, the power he’d been given, the magical, dancing light, was siphoned out of him and floated straight into you. Your feet lifted from the ground, head tilting back as your body slowly rose from the floor, power greater than you’d ever seen or felt ebbing and flowing around you, changing you into the thing you were always meant to become: the Aurora Borealis.

Your hair fully turned white, glimmering like fallen snow, a few stray streaks of pink and purple and teal scattered throughout. Your skin took on a subtle sparkle, every part of you becoming stronger, right down to your fingernails. Your clothes were replaced with a simple, glittering dress, the color of the night sky.

Gently, you touched down again, fully reborn.

The elves murmured and whispered in awe and you looked around to find a row of proud faces.

Mother Nature stepped forward and took both of your hands in hers, meeting you face to face for the first time in three years. “Dear one, I am so sorry for everything you’ve been through. I should have warned you, I should have done more to ready you, but I didn’t and…I let you feel alone.”

“I am alive because of you. Because you misled him. Everything you did was to protect me. I understand that now.” You told her, voice smooth and confident.

She touched her forehead to yours for a moment before pulling away to meet your gaze again. “Then, dear one, I have one last question for you.”

“I’m ready.”

“Hereby and Forevermore, your duty as the Winter Aurora is to the North Pole. You are tasked with its safety and secrets, to protect all of its residents and the magic they hold. Do you accept the Title of Winter Guardian and all of the responsibilities it holds?”

“I do.” You nodded, meeting Bernard’s eyes for a brief moment, only to find the warmest, proudest smile on his face.

“Then this belongs to you.” In her hand, Mother Nature manifested a small, elegant silver tiara, embellished with glittering snowflakes. She set it gently in your hair, completing your transformation once and for all.

Jack started sneaking towards the door, but you lifted your hand, a wave of power rushing around him, turning him back towards the rest of you and giving him a push back towards the rest of you. He stumbled forward, looking around the group nervously.

“You’re—you’re not gonna kill me, right?” He asked. “You still need me! I’m the one who oversees the snow days and-and the snowmen! Think of the snowmen!”

“We do need a Jack Frost.” Mother Nature said. “Which is why while you were here terrorizing Santa, I was locating your successor. Jack, come on in.”

The doors of the Workshop opened and in walked a much younger man with shaggy white hair. Your best guess put him in his early twenties, and his wardrobe was much more modern than the other Jack’s as well, a blue hoodie adorned with silver swirls. He carried a large stick with a curve at the end of it, somewhat resembling a scythe.

“Nice to meet you.” He waved casually, leaning against his stick.

“My successor?” Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re firing me?!”

“Oh, we’re doing more than firing you.” Tooth chuckled. He looked to you. “Aurora, what do you think we should do with him?”

“He needs to be put…somewhere he can’t hurt anyone else.” You decided. You turned to the Head Elf and he perked up, interested to hear your suggestion. “Do you have a snow globe I could borrow?”

He grinned and reached into his satchel, pulling out a fresh one. “I like the way you think.”

“What? No! You can’t just—” Jack shook his head, looking to Santa, to Mother Nature, to even Mrs. Claus for some other solution.

“This is for all of the Auroras before me, for the elves you brainwashed and the reindeer you stuck in a petting zoo. You’ll have lots of time to think about what you’ve done. And maybe someday, in five hundred years or so, I’ll let you go live a boring human life.” You told him, taking the snow globe from Bernard and focusing.

There was a bright flash of sparkles and then it was done, Jack was trapped in the confines of the little snow globe in your hands and he looked very angry about it, but his complaints were too muffled to make them out clearly. Santa reached for the snow globe, so you handed it to him and he gave it an amused swirl.

“Well done, (Y/N).” He complimented, passing the snow globe to Curtis. “See to it that this gets locked away properly.”

“Will do, Santa.” Curtis nodded and headed off.

“Now, (Y/N), if you are going to be staying here, I suppose someone will have to show you around the place.” Santa smiled knowingly.

Bernard cleared his throat. “I believe that would be my responsibility as Head Elf, Santa.”

“Yes, I believe it would.”

The Head Elf offered you his arm and you gladly took it, letting him escort you up the stairs of the workshop and down the hall so the two of you could have a private moment. As soon as you were out of sight, he turned to face you, his hands cupping your cheeks, nose brushing against yours.

“See, I knew you were more of a Winter.”

“Do I look okay?”

“You’ve never looked better.” He murmured, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips to yours passionately. In your Mortal life, you’d had your fair share of kisses, but kissing Bernard was something else entirely. He was experienced, that was for sure.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “Now, where would you like to explore first?”

***

Bernard took you around the Workshop, showing you all of the departments, which were full of elves, all of them working hard to ensure Santa was on schedule to leave that night. Bernard checked in with each of them as he did, making sure everything was going according to plan. Tooth and Mother Nature had stuck around to help out, and some of the other Legendary Figures had arrived as well, introducing themselves to you when you came around.

Finally, as the end of your tour, Bernard led you to an ornate set of stained glass double doors. As if by magic, they swung open when you approached, giving way to a beautiful bedroom, tall, arched ceilings, dancing Northern Lights projected across them. Stained glass windows, a large, wooden desk, hardwood floors and shelves and shelves of books. There was a carved armoire in the corner of the room, and against the leftmost wall, on a platform, was a giant canopy bed.

“This is the Aurora’s suite. You can decorate however you’d like. I had some elves from the interior design department get it fixed up for you.” Bernard explained, your arm looped through his, hand resting on his bicep. “If you’ll turn your attention right over here…”

He led you to the desk, dropping your arm and plucking something off of the desk. Your snow globe! The one he had given you three years before, still inscribed with those famous words that had started your entire adventure to begin with, the last remnant you had from this life before it was ripped away from you.

“My snow globe! How did you get it here?”

He shrugged, handing it to you. “My magic came back. Which means I can give this back to you.”

Bernard lifted his hand and you pressed yours against it, palm to palm. Gently, your power flowed from him back into you, a light breeze blowing through the room. He brushed your hair away from your face and pressed a long kiss to your cheek.

“There’s still a lot to do, but…I think we’re going to be able to pull everything together by tonight.”

“Well then you better get out there, Mr. Head Elf.” You smirked, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.

He met your eyes, “You’ll be okay?”

“I’m going to be just fine.” You assured him, setting the snow globe back on the desk so you could rest your arms on his shoulders, his hands resting on your waist. “And after, you and I will have all the time in the world to figure this out.”

“Oh! I didn’t mean to interrupt…” Curtis muttered, standing in the doorway.

“Curtis!” Bernard exclaimed, his voice cracking.

You giggled when he abruptly pulled away to face his number two.

“The tree topper department needs an extra set of hands.” Curtis said, motioning back towards the workshop.

“Can I help?” You asked.

“Oh, Aurora, you don’t have to—” Curtis shook his head.

“Yeah, but…can I?” You asked, eyes curious.

Curtis grinned. “Yeah, of course.” He made eye contact with Bernard. “I like her already.”

Bernard gave you a nudge. “I do too.”

***

At Santa’s request, you met him and Bernard at the stable gates to see him off for your very first Christmas as the North Pole’s Guardian. Your heart was racing. You didn’t know what was expected of you or what you’d have to do, but Bernard was there, his smile ever so reassuring.

Some of the elves that worked with the reindeer helped get them all properly harnessed and ready for the flight, carefully attaching their reins to the sleigh. Bernard walked you through what you’d have to do. As one of the oldest elves in the Pole, he remembered the process well.

“It’s easy. All you’ll have to do is raise your hand.” He was standing right behind you and raised your hand with his own, positioning it just so. “And lower the barrier so Santa can leave. And if you can’t, we have controls for that now. It’s…mostly ceremonial at this point.”

“Well that does make me feel a little better.” You smiled, turning towards him.

“And, um, after, I think you should…check the armoire in your room. I left something for you.”

“Oh you did, did you?”

“Something for the party. You don’t have to wear it, though.” He shrugged awkwardly, cheeks extra rosy.

“And the party starts…?”

“The minute Santa gets back.” Bernard explained. “And then we get three months off and pick back up in March.”

“Alright.” You nodded, smiling. “Plenty of time for you to show me the ropes.”

“I was thinking exactly the same thing.” He smiled, looking both ways, but not risking a kiss, not with all of the elves assembled to send Santa off.

“Everything ready?” Scott checked, donning his famed coat and hat for the flight just as a few elves loaded the famous gift bag, filled to the brim and then some, onto the back of the sleigh.

“All set, Santa.” Bernard nodded.

Scott put a hand on your shoulder, the other on Bernard’s. “We owe this Christmas to you two. Wouldn’t be standing here without either of you.”

“All in a day’s work, Santa.” You smiled.

“I’ll see you when I get back. And then the real fun begins.”

“I’ll see to it that we have enough eggnog at the ready.” Bernard replied with a wink, which Santa laughed at.

“Excellent.” He climbed into the sleigh and gave you the signal.

Just as you’d practiced, you lifted a hand and focused on the barrier protecting the Pole, made of the same magic that flowed through your veins. Effortlessly, the veil parted, making way for Santa’s sleigh and the elves erupted into cheers as Scott flew off into the sky. Bernard cheered loudly, turning to you and scooping you up in his arms, spinning you around in his excitement. You squealed with laughter.

Once your feet were on the ground again, you met his eyes briefly before pressing the quickest of kisses to his cheek and walking over to Carol, who was smiling a proud, maternal smile.

“Let’s get you ready for that party, huh?” She asked, looping her arm around yours. “You’ll have to fill me in on everything you’ve been up to! It’s nice to have a human-ish woman around here again.”

“I missed you, Carol.”

“I missed you too, hon.”

***

The deliveries went on without a hitch and Scott was back at the Pole faster than you could sing the Twelve Days of Christmas. Carol, you, and Betty had gone into your room to prepare. Carol did your hair, perching your snowflake tiara perfectly atop your head. You felt like a princess.

Betty helped zip up the dress Bernard had left for you, an elegant silver gown with a layered skirt, a tasteful slit up the leg, and off the shoulder sleeves, a layer of tule on top that was embellished with silver stars.

“You look stunning.” Carol complimented, resting her chin on your shoulder as the two of you admired your reflection.

“Thanks to you.” You tilted your head. “I’m still getting used to the hair, but…I think it looks nice like this.”

“Makes you look like a superhero.”

“I kinda feel like one, too.”

“Well you should. Scott told me everything that happened. I’m glad you were there to help.”

“I’m glad I was, too.” You said, pausing before asking, “So…theoretically speaking of course, is there a rule prohibiting the Aurora from…dating?”

Betty gasped, smiling. “I knew it! You and Bernard—”

“You and Bernard?”  Carol asked, interested. “I never would have guessed.”

“Never?”

“Well, maybe a little.” She admitted, pinching her fingers together. “Saving the world together is a very romantic first date.”

“So…I am allowed to…date him?” You asked, earning a giggle from Betty.

“There is nothing, to my knowledge, prohibiting either the Aurora or the Head Elf from falling in love,” she reported. “But I can check the handbook if you want me too.”

“That is good to know.” You tapped your temple, laughing a bit.

Downstairs, you could hear the music pick up and the three of you took that as your cue to join the festivities.

Soon, you were standing at the rail overlooking the Workshop floor, where Bernard was standing, chatting with Curtis, Santa, and some of the other elves. As soon as he caught sight of you, he froze, his glass of eggnog halfway to his mouth and eyes locked on you.

You smiled coyly and lifted the skirt of the gown, carefully navigating down the stairs. He ditched his glass on a cluttered table and met you at the foot of the stairs, taking your arm.

He swallowed thickly, admiring you for a long moment before murmuring, “You look beautiful, Aurora.”

“Thank you, Bernard.” You smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You picked a great dress.”

“Would you like to dance?”

“I’d love to.” You nodded, letting him lead you over to where the rest of the elves were paired up, swaying to a slow song. Your arms settled around his neck as he tugged you closer, a hand on your waist, the other finding your free hand.

It was clear in seconds that he knew how to dance, as he expertly spun you out and then back into him with ease, his chest flush against yours, mouth right against your ear. It was one of those moments you were forced to remember he’d lived a hundred lifetimes. He carried them well; he always had.

When the music picked back up, he said, “Let’s go get some air.”

You nodded, letting him lead you back up the stairs to the railing, where a few stray elves were also hanging out, getting some space from the heat of the party. The two of you leaned against the metal, looking down over your new home.

You were quiet for a long while before finally asking the question that had been on your mind since early that morning, in an airplane in another timeline. “Did you know her? The other Aurora?”

He nodded, face serious. “I knew her, yeah. I wasn’t Head Elf at the time, only second in command. She and I were acquaintances, but she was nice.”

“Mmm.” You hummed.

Bernard reached over and touched your hand. “I much prefer what you and I have this time around.”

“And what is it you and I have?” You asked.

“I’m…not sure yet.” Bernard shook his head, tugging you ever so closer, a gentle hand on your waist. “But I do know that in all of my 1600 years, I’ve never felt like this before. Even before, when you left, when I thought I’d never see you again, I was waiting for the day our paths would cross. I wish it had been under better circumstances, but…”

“But, I’m glad you found me.” You interjected, taking another step forward and resting your head on his shoulder.

Bernard leaned in to kiss you, but stopped, noticing all the elves watching. However, when you pointed straight up at a bundle of glowing mistletoe, he knew there was only one thing he could do…

THREE MONTHS LATER

“Ladies, thank you so much for agreeing to meet here at the Pole.” Mother Nature smiled at each of you, seated at the large round table in your office, which was, coincidentally, right down the hall from Bernard’s office.

Around the table were yourself, Mother Nature, and the three other Guardian Spirits, Briar Flores, Amber Sanderson, and Evangeline Cho, each of you dressed for your respective season, but Briar was absolutely glowing, as though a halo of light was positioned just behind her head at all times.

“Thank you for having us, (Y/N).” Briar thanked, bowing her head. “My place is absolutely a mess at the moment. Bunny has paint on just about every surface in the building.”

“Any time, Briar. This place has been quiet since the elves started their break. Things should be getting started up again soon, though.”

“If you need any help saving Christmas this year, you let us know.” Amber chuckled.

“Knock on wood Christmas doesn’t need saving this year.” You laughed, knocking on the table.

“I am serious, though, as soon as Easter is over, we all need to get mimosas and brunch. There is this lovely little island that is just so flowery and perfect this time of year, you’d all love it.” Briar beamed.

The rest of you murmured and nodded in agreement, stopping only when Evangeline looked up at the doorway, biting back a grin.

You looked up to see Bernard standing there, a bouquet of snowdrops in his hand.

“Hello, Bernard. How can I help you?”

“Oh, Aurora, I didn’t mean to interrupt. The guys in foliage need a second opinion when you have a minute.”

“Right, of course.” You nodded, looking to Mother Nature.

“Meeting adjourned. I’ll see you all next month for a progress report.” She smiled, straightening up her papers. The rest of you all stood up from the table and began to exit the office.

Mother Nature rested a hand on your shoulder, glancing back at Bernard. “You look really happy here, (Y/N).”

“I am really happy here.”

“Good, I’m glad.” She gave your shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll see you next month.”

Once the others had scattered to the winds, Bernard walked into the office, closing the door behind him.

You quirked an eyebrow. “The guys in foliage, huh?”

“Partially. Partially just the Head Elf wanting to make sure his Aurora had something pretty to look at.” He whispered, an arm drawing you closer for a kiss that you gladly reciprocated.

“Your Aurora already has something pretty to look at.” You replied, a finger booping the end of his nose.

He shook his head, grinning. “Does the flirting never cease?” “Check in with me in a few hundred years.” You replied, setting the snowdrops in your vase before lacing your fingers through his, your other hand rising to rest on his arm as you walked out of the office and towards the large room you’d been using to train your powers. “Now, where were we with those lessons…?”

Tagged: @madameggroll, @capamericant, @midnightmisses, @five-hargreeves-apologist

#bernard the elf x reader #bernard imagine #bernard x reader #bernard headcanons #bernard #christmas #the santa clause

[quackarl]

YOU BELONG WITH ME; QUACKITY X READER (STRANGERS TO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, SLOW BURN.)

A/N: Hiii! I did not realize how hard it is for me to write about friends to lovers until I was writing this. I think I'm better at established relationship stuff, hahaha. But there was an interesting request in my inbox if I could write a Quackity X Reader piece, where the reader is hired by Quackity to edit his videos and Spanish subtitles and such, and proceeds to fall for him somewhere along the way. So, I did that, with a few twists of my own imagination. Be aware, that this story includes usage of alcohol. And it's painfully slow burn at times, hahaha, but that's the beauty of it sometimes.

I can’t remember a time in my life when I have felt more hopeless. Looking for a job really sucks, actually many things suck and I hate how life seems to pass me by, almost even faster when I feel like running out time, almost as if to tempt me to keep count of all the time I waste. Time flies when your life is falling apart, isn’t that what they say? 

I wish it was few days ago when this started, this desperate job-hunt, but it’s been so long now. I need something, and fast.

I see my phone light up, the only source of light in the dark room. I see it’s already 11 PM, which means I have wasted another night staying up thinking about my future and where do I fit, if anywhere. Great.

Besides that, what captures my attention next is that it’s my friend texting me, and they’re not here to chit-chat about the usual stuff we talk about every night, but telling me they have a perfect plan for me that’s worth a shot. I wonder how that’s possible, at 11 on a Monday night, and how do they know it any better than me what’s right for me? We both know that’s a lie, though, they know things about me before I even know them myself.

I demand to know more about this plan. I’ll try anything, that’s for sure. Anything to get my foot in the door in this world, you know? The next thing they send me is a mysterious link. I click on it and see it taking me to an application form. For what exactly? 

I let out a frustrated puff once I read the first line;

“We are hiring! Apply here for the position of ‘Video Editor’ and ‘Translator’ for Quackity!”

Ridiculous. I already feel defeated, rejected, because how would I have a chance, out of everybody else applying? What makes me special? That’s probably one of the questions on the application and I don’t see myself writing anything worth reading over in it.

I text my friend promptly, my will to fight suddenly vanishing into thin air, telling them exactly what I think of this idea, that it’s far-fetched and I’m not going along with it. Still, curiosity, or whatever, is kind of getting the best of me, I can’t lie, as I eye the open application. 

My friend texts me back, full of persistence;

“And why not? You studied editing and you’re good at it AND you speak Spanish which is what they’re looking for. You’re the whole package?! Tell me I’m wrong, you can’t.” 11:06 PM

Well, I can’t argue on that. It’s my power that I did happen to take editing courses, and Spanish courses too, for reasons I wasn’t sure about back then, but now it could all make sense.

I confess to my friend that I’m actually considering filling out the form, but I feel stuck. I don’t know what I would answer to certain questions such as why should they hire me, or what makes me, well, me. I don’t know.

I mentally hit a dead-end as soon as I got to the question of what makes me unique and stand out from the other candidates. I wrote out my first, honest thoughts, and everything the perfect version of me in the perfect world would think or say, if I only was more brave and less insecure. I wrote, a lot of stuff. If I say so myself, it was a good application in the end, with a little humour.

The scary part was to scroll down the page, hit the blue ‘submit’ button, and watch text appear on the screen;

“Thanks for your application and your interest towards working with us! We will be in contact as soon as possible as the recruitment process will proceed!” 

I think I just jumped out of my skin. I want to cringe at the thought of them reading over my application. Can I just not be me for a second, while I try to get over this?

I text my friend the last thing for the night, before deciding I need to sleep this shame off, and maybe tomorrow it all doesn’t matter, and we move on;

“Guess what? I just sent the application. I hope you’re happy now.” 11:25 PM

I watch their text pop up; 

“I am! You’ll be too when they hire you, trust me!” 11:26 PM

Sure, I think, almost wanting to roll my eyes. I appreciate the enthusiasm my friend has for my future when I don’t have any, but I mean, like I said before, this is an insane attempt. I drift to sleep soon after. A total shocker that I was able to even sleep a wink that night. What have I done and what am I doing to myself? 

.

The more time went by, the more all of this felt like a joke I always knew it was. It’s been a week now since I sent the application, and everything almost feels too normal for anything life-changing to happen anytime soon. 

Well, it wasn’t until I checked my email on a Wednesday morning when things started to feel somewhat real and moving again. I had something there waiting for me. An email regarding my application. I imagined it to be a nicely worded rejection, something along the lines of “We would like to thank you for your interest in us and the position you have applied for. Unfortunately, at this point, you are not being considered for this role, blah blah blah.” 

I suddenly felt like I was in fact not fine at all, when I started reading through it;

“Welcome to our team! We were impressed by your application and would love to proceed further with you! Please reply to this email as soon as possible if you are still available and interested in this position.”

What do I do?! I will reply, tell them I’m still interested, right? That I’m ready for things to proceed. Am I? How, or why, am I the lucky one here? I’m not used to claiming first place, I’m usually just a runner-up. But here begins my winning streak, I guess. 

I type a response with shaky hands, then put my phone down. I don’t think I’m actually ready for things to move any faster than I can take, and it’s already feeling like a lot right now, like I’m biting off more than I can chew. But if they see enough potential in me, it’s all in my head. 

Safe to say that it startled me when not even a few minutes later I received a follow-up email, asking me a few more questions, to which I replied to to the best of my ability. Questions such as am I certain I can commit to such schedule in a long run. It was sinking in for me as I was typing, that this really is a one hell of an opportunity that they are offering me, and I need to be the best. There’s no other option.

The next email they sent, it meant all business;

“We are thrilled to hear you are ready to work with us! Would you be free for a call tomorrow at 8 PM?”

Okay, straight to the point. I tell them I’m free and ready.

Except that I didn’t feel so ready anymore when I received one last email;

“Great! We will have Alex call you tomorrow.”

Yeah, I’m absolutely sweating bullets now. I stayed up much later than I had intended that night, mostly thinking about how fast things are happening now, and if I have started something here I can’t end. I typed his name countless times into the internet to see more of him, but it feels like the more I know, the less capable I am of dreaming of the possibilities of what will happen. So I just went to bed. 

. 

The next day arrived faster than I hoped it would. Can I really do this? Am I ready? So many questions and not enough time to figure out the answers. Quite literally, because I lingered in bed the whole day and hurriedly had to jump into my clothes when I eventually got myself up.

It was 7.50 PM when I sat myself down at my desk, ready to take on whatever was coming. Even if it knocks me down once, I will get up twice. No matter what it takes. It didn’t help my nerves when I kept checking and re-checking the time on my phone. Now I just want to get over with it, so I can finally have some peace of mind and not live in the distress for a minute longer. 

Then it was finally 8 PM, sharp. This is a waiting game, I guess. A matter of minutes. 

When the phone finally rang, it was 10 minutes later. The longest 10 minutes of my life, by the way. I’m surprised I didn’t curl up and die within those 10 minutes, that’s what it felt like. 

I give myself a few second pep-talk, clearing my throat, before picking up as nonchalant as I could, acting like I haven’t been sitting and waiting here shaking like a leaf, thinking about if death was more painless, “hi there!”

I mentally cringe at myself for sounding a little too excited and loud, but Alex didn’t seem to mind as he speaks back to me, “hi! Hello. How are you?”

“I’m good, yeah! Nervous, actually, if you can’t tell yet. You?” I’m already starting to crumble and my voice is wavering as I realise that I’m just… me, and he is he. Even as strangers, he’s way out of my league. He is known, adored, watched by millions of people, I am not. I’m average, boring, some would even say. I don’t blame them. So, remind me how am I, out of everyone, here, in this situation? 

I hear him smile into the phone, “don’t be. I’m good, fuckin’ amazing, to answer your question. And just overall, you know…,” he trails off, before taking a sharp breath, “anyway, I guess I’m just here to sort of do a vibe check. I mean, I can tell you’re cool, so there should be no problems there, but—talk to me, about anything. I would appreciate it, though if it was related to the job, but don’t fret too much, okay?”

I now smile to myself too and at the fact that he, first of all, is here trying his best not to overwhelm me, and that he keeps cussing as if he doesn’t care this is technically a business call. I could loosen up a bit too in my own ways. 

“Well, I—first of all, thanks for doing this. I’m really excited about this opportunity,” I ramble until I realize how I’m getting a bit sidetracked here from the question, thankfully he doesn’t point it out, but instead encourages me to keep going, so I did, this time right on subject. I tell him what I can, about myself and my studies that I worked hard for and that would benefit me in succeeding in this job position. He listens every word, throwing in some comments and pleased sounds, as to approve what he’s hearing.

“Wow, yeah, that’s fuckin’ impressive, you should be proud. Not everyone can do it, you know? Like that’s some tough shit if you want to be any good, so I definitely respect what you got goin’ on.”

Why am I now spiraling? Maybe because I can’t recall the last time someone bothered to compliment me on this so thoroughly, and out of all the people possible, it has to be him. I didn’t expect it to actually rob me of words like this.

“Thanks,” I eventually stutter, “didn’t think I was going to hear that, especially from you. It means a lot.”

“Of course, I’m glad it means a lot. I really mean it.”

This is definitely not the kind of vibe I had prepared myself for. I feel like we are already…. bonding? Just a little bit. I feel it more as we keep talking, and one conversation turns into another and then another. I learn something, that he undeniably has a great sense of humour, very witty and likes to laugh, but can also be serious when needed, talk sense into anybody and be the voice of reason. I think it was at least for a good hour that we just exchanged words and stories, and laughed a lot too, of course. I even come out of my shell and tell him jokes, that makes him laugh in turn. 

Before we could get any more in depth, he mutters through a yawn, “I’m genuinely excited to have you, it’s gonna be so fuckin’ great. So, welcome to the Team Quackity—no one says that, I just made that up, I just lied to you—but, I really think you’re gonna do amazing. I think I’m going to put my little best foot forward and head to bed at a decent time, for once. My feet are not little though, like I’m not a fuckin’ gnome or anything.“

We both laugh. It is getting somewhat late and our brains are getting to the stage of tiredness when everything said is suddenly funny. It’s very reassuring to see this human side of him, that he is so easy to talk to and that maybe I was anxious for nothing, and felt the pressure to appear so interesting for nothing, because he made me feel interesting so effortlessly.

And I guess I’m in now, I got the job, judging by his words, that he is excited to have me around in the future. It’s going to take a while to get used to this. Maybe I ever won’t, so he’ll always keep me on my toes. 

”I’ll see—or talk to you soon, I think,” I tell him. 

He doesn’t bother correcting me or himself, “yeah, I’ll see you soon, very soon probably.”

After that all I heard was rustling from his end and a small noise indicating he was getting tired, so we both know it’s time to wrap things up here. Until next time. It made me want to squirm to know there will be a next time.

I still don’t know how I managed to fall asleep that night with a mind running a thousand miles an hour, but I did, eventually. 

. 

It didn’t take many days at all before I already had something waiting for me in my inbox, some work to do. This is what he must have meant by seeing me very soon.

And so the first day of work and then a whole week of work was over in a blink of an eye, and I found myself busy trying to juggle everything. Doing my best was the best I could do, as I spent my days taking everything in and making this my new normal. Speaking of, it will take a while for any of this to feel normal.

I got to put my rusty Spanish skills to use, I even surprised myself with how easy I suddenly found the language I struggled with at a certain point in my life. I guess all it really takes is finding the right thing.

As to what comes to Alex, I barely hear from him. Mostly because this is strictly business, and when we do talk, it’s about work, and even then he keeps it very short. I understand, he’s busy, I’m not his only priority. The one-on-one talk I got to have with him on the phone that one night, when he was supposed to interview me but we ended up talking about anything else, that was one time and definitely won’t be something that happens frequently. Things have changed since then. There has to be some boundaries set of what is appropriate, because after all, I just work for him and not playing any role of a friend.

So, it’s been very independent, lonely at times, doing this job and I don’t know how or who to talk to about it. New job blues, it must be. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. 

. 

I was startled out of my sleep to my phone obnoxiously ringing. Well, it was obnoxious at first to be woken up like that, until I realised there aren’t many people who would call me this early in the morning. 

I make grabby hands for it, until I find it in the midst of the covers, and to my horror see Alex’s name on the screen. It was still there no matter how many times I tried to blink the sleep out of my eyes, confirming I’m not dreaming. This could be pretty much about anything, which scares me. It’s very unlikely for him to call me anymore just to chit-chat about nothing in particular. There has to be something else.

I hesitantly pick up, “hello?”

“Hi! I just wanted to… you know, check in, ask how’s it going?” he sounds way too happy for there to be to bad news. Whew.

I tell him it’s going good and hear the smile in his voice as he seems to be satisfied with my brief answer, “good, I’m glad. I know it might be a shit show at first, like everything’s new, you feel like you’re alone in it—all of that, but you’re not, okay? Like, I really do appreciate the hell out of you and what you’ve done so far. It’s been really great to see it!”

“Thanks. That’s actually what I needed to hear. It’s been a lot of…. change for me,” I feel like I’m flustered like a fool right now, good thing he can’t see it because I must look crazy. I wish I knew better words to express my gratitude for him right now, because it’s exactly what I wanted to hear, especially after feeling low, but I never thought he’d actually say it. Especially not right now on this specific, beautiful morning when I’m still half asleep and oblivious to the world. 

“I’m sorry if I haven’t really been there to show my appreciation more, but I’m genuinely just so fuckin’ busy, or if I’m not busy I’m sleeping or some shit, because as great as I am, I still do need my little beauty sleeps. But, if there’s anything I can do for you, just—you will let me know, right?”

I don’t know where this is coming from and what is causing him to talk to me in such confidence and care. All I know is that I suddenly don’t feel as alone as I did not too long ago.

“Sure. I’m really glad you told me that. Takes a bit of a weight off my shoulders.”

“Of course,” he emphasizes, “I’m glad we’re on the same page. So, what are you doing right now?”

I’m surprised at his attempt to keep talking to me instead of hurrying to go on with his day, like he usually does. I rack my brain for something sensible, if there’s a right answer to his question, “uh—is this a trick question? Is there something I forgot to do?”

He laughs, “no, no, I swear! So, you’re not up bright and early, not a morning person?” 

“Who is?” I chuckle and fight off a yawn.

He groanes as if stretching himself to prove his point, “fair. So, you’re not doing anything? You’re free to—I don’t know—have a little chat?”

Is there something he hopes to discuss, since he keeps hanging on the line? I don’t know for the life of me what that would or could be, or maybe I’m wrong and mean and paranoid and he is just kind enough to call me and initiate conversation after not hearing from me in a while.

“Yeah, sure. Anything in particular you want to talk about?”

“No. Just anything, like fuckin’… why Spanish? Why did you learnt Spanish in the first place? Why did you chose it?”

Great question. I smile to myself, “sounds like you had something to ask me all along.”

And so we fell into a conversation about it, about me deciding to learn Spanish in the first place, me telling him it was more of decision that I made one night when I was bored and couldn’t sleep and thought it was a such a godsent, brilliant idea. And so I applied for those classes that same night, I think I was half asleep and delirious, and the next morning I had to suck it up and face the consequences of my sleepy actions and attend those damn classes. It was surely tough at first, like everything new is, but eventually, with some hard work, I got the hang of it. 

It was over 30 minutes later, when we finally said goodbyes and hung up and then it was silent again, except for his words now echoing in my head, and how he seemed to be very into learning more about me, like he eats, sleeps and breathes that new information.

Now that I sort of have his permission to rely on him if I need to, I want to make the most of it. I mean, possibly, if I ever need it, but on the flip side, I’m aware I’m not here to make friends or connections. We haven’t really even connected more than as people who work together so far, which I understand. Except for those few longer talks we’ve had on the phone, but I think since he’s so approachable, he probably talks like that with everyone. I don’t feel too special yet.

.

Things slowly made more sense and fell into place as it was that same cycle for the remaining of the week and the weeks after. I spent the days sitting at my desk, working. Time flied, for sure. The only thing that made me feel as if the days were dragging, was that I didn’t hear much from Alex. I actually didn’t hear from him at all, except for when I reached out to him concerning work, but other than that we didn’t really talk. I didn’t want to be the one to reach out to him for a casual chat, because it felt inappropriate, unprofessional even.

I definitely got crashed back to the harsh reality from whatever high I had been on when he used to have the time to talk to me. I understand it, but I did kind of crave some human interaction, some communication. Blame it on me and that I’m a people person and that maybe I find him interesting just a little bit. 

I want to know how he is doing and kind of wanted to have him ask me how was I doing too. Well, I am buried in work, that’s how I’m doing. I sometimes too need something, or someone, to share the burden with. I wonder if I’ll always feel this way.

.

Something blaring disrupts my sleep and wakes me up. Whatever it is, it’s too loud for whatever time it is. It’s not my alarm, I acknowledge, but my ringtone. My phone. I recognize that sound. 

It almost hurt to pry my weary eyes open so fast, but I still experience a deja-vu. This sort of feels all too familiar, doesn’t it? Who’s calling me this early? It’s 9 AM on a... Saturday!? I completely forgot it‘s the weekend. That’s what intense work hours does to a human.

“Hello?” I didn’t even try to conceal the sleep in my voice.

“Well, hello to you too,” my oh-so-dear-friend speaks on the line. Right now I feel like I could tell them off, but to be fair, we haven’t talked in a long while. I just realised how long it’s been since I have heard their voice now that I’m hearing it.

I groan groggily, “hi, hello. Cut the chit-chat and tell me why you woke me up.”

I pull the phone away to check the time again on the screen, if I had read it correctly. Yep, 9.01 AM on a Saturday morning. No one should be awake at this hour, especially not me. 

“I was finally able to sleep in today, you knew this,” I keep whining.

My friend just laughs like this is all a joke, “or you could come and have breakfast with me, just like the old times. I work too, so don’t tired-shame me! I love sleep as much as you do, but it’s not every weekend we can do this anymore. You barely even talk to me these days.”

I sigh again, now out of pity, because as tired as I am, they’re right. We really don’t even talk as much as we used to do when we were not busy with work and well, adulting. Life. Ugh.

“Fine,” I eventually agree to it, “you got me. I’ll see you soon then, I guess.”

My friend squeals, “you really gave in already, this easily? I’ll see you soon!”

I stretch my tired body that feels like it isn’t ready to get up just yet. I need a minute, or two, or ten to wake up and I probably have like 30 minutes to an hour to get ready. Definitely enough, even if I stall in bed for a bit longer. And that’s what I’m planning on doing.

I cry out when my phone rings again not even a few minutes later. There’s no way my friend is on their way already. Or maybe something came up and they are telling me I can go back to sleep. Am I an awful person for wishing that? I had a change of attitude when I saw who was calling me.

“Hello?”

“Hey! Long time no see, or talk,” he speaks. It’s Alex.

Why is he calling me now? I’m suddenly feeling way more awake than I did just seconds ago. Yeah, screw sleep. What does he want?

“Yeah,” I laugh nervously, “what’s up?”

“So, something needs to be up for me to call you? I can’t just call you?” he speaks before breaking into laughter, “I’m just fuckin’ around, I’m kidding! Anyway, speaking of that seeing, how—what would you say if I asked if you want to pop a visit to my place? I’d love to see you in person, you know, and I’m in town, I have like no shit to do for once, I’m a free fuckin’ man. If I was you, I’d take advantage of that, but you do you, I guess.”

This is not what I expected in a million years. Even if his house was the only house in this world, I still wouldn’t expect access there. I mean, I’m flattered as hell, but why? I’m sure he has other friends he would rather see—and we’re not even friends, actually.

I guess kindness comes in many forms. He doesn’t really owe me anything, especially letting me to see such a private part of his life like the place he calls home. Just because I’m now a part of his job, an acquaintance perhaps, doesn’t mean he has an obligation to let me see more of him. But, who am I to say no?

I hesitate, before finally uttering a response, “sure—I mean, if you’re sure, then yes. I’d like to, it’s not like I have anything to do.”

Except that I actually do have something to do. The breakfast.

Of course I don’t have the heart to correct myself, not when Alex sounds this excited, “great! So, I’ll be expecting you… let’s say in a few hours? Nothing too crazy. I want to—you know, I usually have a thing that I want to see as many people as I can who I’m working with to kind of, just to see them, makes sense, right? A vibe check, some would say.”

Finally he tells me he’ll text me the address later and there he goes, as the line goes dead and I’m left with my own thoughts. As terrified as I feel, I also do feel a little curious. What’s going to actually happen once I get there? Is this a build-up to something bigger? What will he think of me when I’m not just an ideal voice on the phone, but a real, existing person standing in front of him? 

I call my friend and they immediately pick up, “there’s no way you’re already ready! I’m leaving in a few—”

“No!” I yap, “listen—this is an actual emergency, like Alex just called me and asked me to come over, like he actually wants to see me and I said yes, because I spoke before I could think, so here I am, thinking what the hell I have just done.”

“What? What are you talking about? Like right now? You have to go right now?”

“Like soon-ish, yeah, I mean—should I not? Am I actually going to go?”

“Of course you’re going! In what world would you not go?!”

“So—you’re okay with it?” I ask. I don’t care what anyone’s telling me right now, I still feel stubborn if this is the right thing to do. I mean, there’s a lot at stake here. I could like, say something stupid to him or get all tongue-tied. 

My friend sighs loudly, “I’m saying this as kindly as I can, but shut up. You’re going! I’ll just see you another day! Just tell me how it goes then.”

We talked for a bit more, or more like, my friend talked and I halfheartedly listened. I feel completely unprepared for what is about to happen. Good luck to me. Luckiness is not my strong suit, but it has to be today. 

.

I was finally walking to the bus stop when a drizzling rain started to fall, and it did when I got on and off the bus too. Before I was caught in a storm, I check the address on my phone, and then I’m on my way to my destination.

It was not more than 15 minutes when I had made it, and there it was. In front of me was a really nice apartment building. The dark, cloudy sky made it look even more majestic, as it stood tall and proud. As I walk along the concrete sidewalk, I maneuvered my way to the entrance and right up the few front steps.

I feel like I’m doing something I shouldn’t as I make my way inside. Thankfully, I don’t see anyone as I step into the well-lit lobby, because I was definitely a sight to see, a bit damp from the rain and looking around like I don’t know where I am.

My heart is still heavy in my chest and my ears in the elevator. I keep tapping my foot whenever I could keep myself still, which was nearly impossible. But I had some time to think; what do I actually do once I’m there? No idea.

I finally make it to the right door and then it’s now or never. Well, it’s not going to get any easier, so I guess I have to go for it. After I gather the courage to ring the doorbell, I hear the lock turn and see the knob twist, and there he is, in front of me.

He has a really nice, contagious smile that I’ve only seen on screen before, but I never saw just how it reaches his eyes, the dark and captivating eyes that reminds me of nice things in life, framed by his long lashes. He looks relaxed, his face a bit sleepy and his hair covered by a black beanie. 

“Hey!” he smiles wide, looking like he can’t stay put in one place much longer either, “it’s so nice to see you! Come here!”

Before I have the time to say or do anything, he pulls me into a warm, welcoming hug. Definitely a good hugger too. His scent fills the air around me, which has a calming effect. The hug was warm like a sweater and a soft, pleased sigh escaped his lips. 

“Hi,” I mumble against him, “it is. I didn’t know you’re a hug person. Noted.”

Alex just laughs, like it was everyday for him, “thanks for thinking I’m an asshole. What, should I just fuckin’… push you like the asshole I am?”

We laugh off any tension, if there ever was any to begin with. See, he’s really funny like that, which makes me think that maybe there won’t be any rough patches today and we will get along fine. When we pull apart, he takes his body heat away with him, and I feel a little chilly again from the rainfall. He steps aside in the doorway and with an excited grin, invites me in, “come on in!”

I give him a tight-lipped smile as I walk past him, “gladly, thanks.” 

God, I need to stop being so formal and boring, and lighten up a little. My head is still hazy, I can’t remember the reason why I am here in the first place. Was there ever such thing? Guess I’ll find out soon. 

He shows me around inside. What I saw in front of me, was a place that was really simple yet modern, very inviting indeed. Lots of tones of grey and white. There wasn’t any clutter in my sight, everything looked squeaky clean and organized. There was a corner that looked like his streaming set-up, that looked more messy than the rest of his place did.

“So, this is my place slash office, where I do work. Hence the name ‘office’,” he tells as he gestures me to take a look around. I laugh, and he seems satisfied at successfully amusing me, as he moves our attention to the living room.

I agape at how spotless it is wherever I look at. There’s no way he does this himself with a schedule like his, or if he does, it’s impressive.

“I’m a clean-fuckin’-person, okay! As you can see. Honestly, my life hack would be just not to do shit. If you don’t do anything, there won’t be a mess. See, it’s fuckin’ easy.”

We both snicker out loud again and he motions at the tiny kitchen, exclaiming, “this is where I cook! I bust my little ass in this little kitchen every day.”

“You do?” I ask, surprised. Shit, I didn’t mean to say that out loud, especially after what he said, so now it sounds kind of awkward, but it’s also kind of funny. I’m just surprised that he seems to be so good at everything. 

He just chuckles, “yeah. I’ll show you someday. Only if you promise to pay attention to the food and not only to my ass, like get your priorities straight first.”

Oh God. Someday? I’m here for the long run? I’m just going to ignore the latter comment. I put my hands up in surrender, “I promise.”

As we laugh again, I wonder how he is truly, effortlessly funny, like a breath of fresh air. I’m sure I haven’t met someone like him before. Now it all clicks why he has such a wide audience from every corner of the world, it’s not hard to find his personality likeable at all. He wears his sense of humor like it’s his lucky charm and it works.

I follow him with my arms tightly tucked on my sides to the living room area, that’s kind of one with the kitchen, like a joint. I must look painfully awkward. 

“And this,” Alex gestures, “is where I kick back and relax. Not too much time for that lately, I’ve been so fuckin’ busy with work.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt it. I’m glad if I can make your life a little easier in that spectrum.”

He has a nice view of the bustling city from the window too, something I find hard to divert my gaze from, just to find myself staring right into his eyes when I did.

“You do!” he smiles widely, “that’s why I wanted to see you, actually, to kind of know even more about what you’re all about. You wanna sit down for a second? Can I interest you in a drink?” he pulls his best British accent for the question. Oh, so here’s the part when it gets real, him questioning me. 

I agree and again follow his trail to the kitchen and watch as he pulls out a chair for me. He made it seem like it’s such a nonchalant thing to do, but it strangely made my face feel warm. He didn’t have to do that, but he did. I thank him and sit down. 

“So, what would you like to have?” he speaks behind me.

I eye the kitchen, “honestly, whatever’s the easiest for you.”

I hear him hum and then he is gone. I watch as he walks around the kitchen, opening the fridge and the cupboards. I feel a bit creepy just following him with my eyes, so I sneakily pull my phone out of my pocket and see there’s a text from my friend. I should’ve known.

“What’s going on there? I’m dying to know!” 1:01 PM

I kind of did promise them that I would text them as soon as things progressed or happened, which they really haven’t so far. I’m just kind of lost in the moment right now, taking it all in. 

I mentally shake my head and fight a smile, texting them back that I promise and vow to tell everything later, except that not much has happened yet. We haven’t exactly gotten to the point here, whatever it is.

There’s one thing I can’t deny so far and could talk about forever, which is that he’s really fun to be around. He’s one of those people who can immediately light up a room with his energy, which is what he probably does every time he’s with people. I suddenly feel small in his world. Sure, I’m here right now, sitting in his house, and I’m lucky enough to call myself someone who gets to work with him, but still. I’m just one of the many people that gets to watch him shine from the sidelines. 

I put my phone away once I hear him coming back, and watch as he places a drink in front of me, “for you,” and one for himself “and for me,” and sits down opposite me. The drink is lime green. It looks delicious. I tell him that and shiver as I wrap my hand around the cold glass.

He smiles at me with his pearly white teeth on full display, “it’s fuckin’ amazing. I think it’s so cool, like the shit that bartenders do, mix a bit of that, throw a little bit of that in, and this is one of my many creations. I do feel like a bartender whenever I make this.”

I smile and take a sip. It was amazing. “You make this for everyone?”

He seems stunned, “no, no! I mean, I rarely get people over, we’re all just so fuckin’ busy to dilly-dally, and if I do, it’s work related—you’re work related too, I know, but—it’s a day off for the both of us, so fuck it, why not, you know?”

“Yeah,” I take another sip, “well, I’m glad you invited me over.”

He broadly grins at me from behind his glass, “you already told me that.”

I feel myself getting flustered. I’m not really too good with human interactions or words today.

“I’m just kidding,” he gently laughs, “I’m glad you came over, too. Uh—you—how have you liked everything so far? I feel like I know a lot about you already, but you just—you’re a very interesting person.” 

So, this is the kind of stuff he wanted to talk about? And did he just call me interesting? I’m going straight back to feeling nervous. Meanwhile he takes a sip of his drink too and keeps his eyes on me the whole time.

“Me?” I gulp, “I don’t know whether to thank you or tell you that you’re delusional.”

He just snickers again, there was no hint of real hurt or judgment there, “no, no! Like now, you could’ve told me more, something I don’t know, but it’s almost like you got some secrets, like you’re avoiding some shit. Are you? Every time I try to talk to you, you don’t.”

He holds a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and I’m thinking if I should hold back my words here. Have I been holding back that much? I haven’t realised it, if I have. Maybe I’m just scared of being too much and I don’t want to, well, be too much. I don’t know how deep is too deep, especially considering our work situation-ship.

Just when I thought I somewhat know him, he shows me a new side of him. There’s been a lot of people in my life who’s had their eyes on me, but never cared enough to look closely enough to see me the way I am. At least not in the way I feel I deserve, like I do with him. He seems fairly interested in me, which is the highest compliment, I think. 

“I thought you invited me here just to talk business,” I stutter. 

”We’re not working right now, I already told you.”

His face was content as ever as he leaned on the palm of his hand and listened to me talk. And what did we talk about? Everything. All about me. I found it rather easy to open up to him, once I got started. The only time it didn’t feel as easy was when I was reminded how intensively he’s listening and looking at me. I gulp down my drink and relish the sweet taste.

“I think it’s kind of a fair trade if you tell me something about you next,” it’s my turn to grin at him. 

It was enough to make him crack up, “what is this, a fuckin’ truth or dare? Spin the bottle? You want another drink? I could go for another one. Fuck it, let’s do 10 more! This is fun, I’m having a good time.”

He convinces me to have one more with him. I mean, I can’t leave him now, I think it’s just getting good here. We are having fun, is it a bit too much fun? I don’t know, but neither of us seem to care enough to stop it.

I agree, “sure, I’ll have another and dare you to tell me something next, like how did you pick me? Or was it even you? You had your fair share, now it’s my turn.”

I can play this game too and I’m really interested in why he chose me. All this time I thought it was luck, but was it? What else does he see in me? 

He grabs our glasses, going to the kitchen to work his magic again, with his back facing me. It didn’t take him long, but it was long enough time for a silence to fall over us, except for a few clinks from the kitchen, and enough time for me to wonder about what has happened to far today.

He is so chill, unlike me on the inside. He didn’t make a big deal of us meeting, which is fine. I mean, I do work for him, this is all business, so I don’t know what else I would expect to happen. But I am taken aback he is willing to share so much with me and that it doesn’t seem to phase him much. He is letting me read him like an open book. 

He was way too soon back with our second batch of drinks, “so, you want to know why you’re here?”

I nod coyly. 

He beams and leans back on his seat, resting his arm behind him and fiddling with his glass with the other hand, “I mean, you know everything I need you to know and you’re good at it. You know a lot, you’re very smart and you work hard. I saw your application. And I know you’re very funny, too. You were funny as fuck on the phone when we first talked.”

Oh no. Yeah, that was my tired brain talking back then.

He interrupts me, “no, I think you’re funny as fuck. You should do that more often. Why are you holding back?”

“I don’t know,” I don’t know what I’m actually going to say to this one, “I’m not used to mixing my humour with work, I guess, but glad it works for you.”

“It does, like you don’t need to hold back around me. Be yourself, you know? Like, fuck it. I say stupid shit too, but you don’t think any less of me, do you?”

“No, I dont,” I confess. I’m happy he told me that. He’s giving me the freedom to be me, which I never realised is the greatest thing someone could give you. 

After both of our glasses were empty and we had gone over the stupidest jokes and stories that matter, I think it was time for me to get out. We really had found ourselves talking about everything, from our tastes in music to plans for the future. 

I tell him, “I should go soon, but this was fun! We should do this again—probably not! But if we ever happen to… I don’t know.“ Damn it. I know very well we shouldn’t and probably won’t ‘hang out’ like this again. Stupid me, not knowing when to stop. I’m such embarrassment-prone.

To my luck, he shakes his head, “no, I’d like that! You have a phone, I have a phone, you know, let’s make shit happen. Easy.”

I dodged a bullet right there. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to think that us meeting up again would be unprofessional or weird and I didn’t make matters worse.

We get up and I let him lead me to the door. I’m about to step out, but not before turning to see him standing there with his arms spread out for me. A little warmth rushes into my cheeks as we mold together and share a hug for the second time today and he gives my back a soothing rub. 

“Have a safe trip home,” he speaks lowly in my ear.

I watch him return the small smile through the little crack, until the door shuts close with a soft click. I walk back to the elevator, and once I’m certain I really am alone, I pull out my phone and text my friend. I didn’t even realise what I was typing as I was typing it. 

There’s one thing in my mind I need to air out, because the longer it stays there, the more it becomes a secret. And I don’t want to keep secrets from my friend right now, secrets that are confusing me as much as it will confuse them;

“Oh my God. Since when has he become so attractive?” 3:05 PM

.

It didn’t take long at all for my friend to reply, like they had been waiting by the phone, but certainly not for a message like that. For the first time ever, I was honestly scared to see what they have to say this time. I don’t blame them though, I myself even feel a little scared of what I’m feeling right now.

“What?! What did you guys even do? You know this sounds very suspicious?” 3:06 PM

Trust me, I know it’s stupid, but it’s the way he actually cared to listen to me, and, I don’t know, appreciate me like no one has before. I’m afraid no one will understand what I mean, they would have to meet him and be in my place to understand. He is somehow irresistible in every way, the way he talks, the way he listens, both just as important qualities. 

I guess there is no use in explaining myself, but I still text my friend back, trying to find the right words;

“Nothing like you’re imagining, we just talked! But he said some nice things to me, like he finds me interesting, like he’s just a very nice person and he has an attractive personality. I don’t know if that’s a thing but if not then I just invented it.” 3:09 PM 

I know if there’s someone who sees right through me, it’s my friend and I will probably be called out any second now. Just to be clear, I would not mess with him nor this job opportunity. I’m not like that, I just appreciate a good personality, I guess. And I mean, I’m not saying his looks are bad either... but, no.

My friend replies,

“I believe you, but this sounds like so much more. And I’m quoting you now, ‘attractive’?!” 3:11 PM

I wish I would’ve kept my mouth shut, because I don’t think I will ever hear the end of this. I end up finding my way back home safe and sound, which was actually a miracle, considering that I didn’t really pay attention to where I was going or which bus I hopped on, because there was just one thing on my mind. I don’t like Alex like that, but I’m also running out of ways to defend my case. It’s too soon to even think about these things. 

I went to bed early, deciding to catch up on some tv-shows, because I didn’t exactly know what else to do with myself. And sure, I was also texting my friend, telling them it’s not like that and if we can now drop it and move on. I feel too stupid and embarrassed to think about it any longer. So I just got ready for bed and started up a tv-show re-run. Of course I couldn’t pay much attention when I had my friend blowing up my phone and my brain screaming the same stuff at me. This secret can never get out. 

.

The next day, as I woke up, the first thing on my mind was whatever it was that had taken over me yesterday, but other than that it was all the same. I so wanted to text Alex, thank him for having me over. I suddenly felt so very bored of my own life, as I realised that wasn’t going be something we do often, if ever again.

I spent the whole day in bed, just killing time and relaxing, not like I had anything else to do. I could call up my friend, but I honestly still feel a bit embarrassed to talk anything over with them yet. I would rather solve it myself. My feelings, my problem, right?

.

A few weeks have passed. I haven’t talked much with Alex. It’s the same as usual, we have fallen back to the normal ritual, where the only interaction we ever have is strictly work-related talk. 

I, myself have also finally fallen back into my calm state of mind and so has my friend. Everything feels the same it’s always been. Obviously, my friend hasn’t completely let me live it down, but I can live with it. We still occasionally talk about it, or more like, they ask me if I’m okay, because apparently, I sounded so passionate about my feelings and it’s not healthy to brush them off. 

It wasn’t until a few more weeks had passed by swiftly, when I heard from Alex again, on another Saturday evening. My phone was going off, with his name on the screen.

“Hey. Sorry if this was sudden, or whatever,” he quietly speaks to me when I pick up.

“It’s fine,” I assure, “I actually have been waiting to hear from you.”

Was that too much? I feel like that’s one thing that would have been better if it only existed in my head. I was relieved to hear him find the humour in it though.

“Yeah?” I heard him chuckle on the phone, “you’ve been waiting for me like I’m fuckin’ Santa or some shit?”

I laugh too and played along with his usual banter, “oh, yeah. Now, do you have something for me?”

He actually sighs and gets serious, “I have like, bad news and then there’s like, amazing news.”

Oh no. How bad are we talking about? Is it about me? Just when I thought things would go back to normal, whatever normal is. I make a noise to urge him to keep going.

He sighs again, “okay. I’m… going to have to move and leave that fuckin’ amazing apartment behind, that you just saw a few weeks ago. Like, what the fuck? I get it, like life comes at you fast, but like, fuck.”

“What?” I ask him, sounding too disappointed for my own liking, “you have to? Like, this is it? You’re getting evicted or something?” 

He finally laughs lowly, “okay, fuck you. I’m just kidding! No, actually—I got this offer, hear me out, this is a big ass spoiler, but I’m getting a huge sponsorship, which means that the amount of content I have to do for them, and with them, of course, is just so much that it would be necessary for me to live there. At least for now.” 

He keeps on rambling about this opportunity and genuinely sounds like he couldn’t be more excited, meanwhile I don’t make a peep.

“And I figured to tell you now, because I know you’ll be cool about it. I’ll still have work for you to do, so technically this doesn’t change anything for you, but, I mean, fuck it, why wouldn’t I do it?! It’s time for me to spread my little wings and go out there in the big world,” he keeps going while I still remain silent.

“Oh, wow, not what I expected to hear, but that’s awesome. So, where’s the bad news?” I finally say to him, when I don’t hear his voice anymore, trying my best to conceal the lack of excitement in mine. 

“I know right! Those aren’t even bad news, ‘cause like, what the fuck? It’s going to be amazing. I figured I should let you know, ‘cause when you see me filming from somewhere else, just so you know I haven’t been kidnapped, I’m not streaming from someone’s basement. No one’s forcing me to make content.”

Well, that got a genuine giggle out of me. I want to show my support more, but I feel a bit sad about this. I don’t know why. Why do I find it so hard to be happy for him right now? 

I understand that this is really something he wants to do, something that’s bringing him lost motivation back, so what else would I tell him other than ‘yes, it’s a good idea’? Even though it means he’ll be far away in another state, God knows exactly how far, but I can’t be selfish and act all hurt when this doesn’t even affect me. But, how long will he be gone for?

“So, when will I see you again? Not anytime soon, I assume?” Now I’m asking the real questions here.

“I know... yeah, probably not. Shit just happens so fast, isn’t that crazy?”

At least he’s honest. I don’t know and neither does he. There’s my answer. I’m not going to lie, I’m a little upset. I guess we have—I don’t even know how much more—time left, and then everything will change, or not, like he assured, but I think it will all change for us. Maybe not in all the worst ways, but how often does change not hurt at first? It always does. 

.

That bitter feeling didn’t die, no matter how many days I tried to drown it for. There’s still a tiny string in me holding onto the hope that he’s not leaving. I know it’s selfish, I hate it too. I hate how I’m doing this to myself. I’m especially having one of those days today, when I feel like doing nothing, but I have to get work done. It’s just hard not to think about him when my work centers around him, like I really can’t get away. 

I just never thought we would run out of time. Isn’t it cruel how we only appreciate time when there’s not much of it left?

I decide to wrap up work early today. I had sat on my desk the whole morning, staring at the screen and realising that words don’t make sense to me, I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing, like this stupid editing program suddenly feels like a stranger. If I’m going to do a crap job, I might as well just not do anything. The deadline isn’t until tomorrow. 

My mind is more occupied with things with a shorter deadline, other things I have to solve before I can immerse myself in anything else that requires complete focus, like the strange feeling I got after hearing him break the news. It shouldn’t matter to me, so why does it feel like it does?

I shut down the computer after saving the little work I got done. I need to look after myself, do the things I used to do and enjoyed doing before all this happened and he came and rocked my world and hopefully I’ll get over it, and myself.

Just out of pure curiosity, I want to know how things are going for him. I’m not trying to get my feelings hurt, but it’s only been a few days, nothing too major hasn’t happened yet, right? The buzzing of my phone jerkes me back to reality. It’s Alex!

“Hi!” I balance my phone on my shoulder, as I finished patting my face dry after a very refreshing shower I just had.

I can hear him clear his throat and speak, “hello. I just woke up, I know it’s like, what, 1PM? Holy shit. Anyway, uh… what are you up to?”

I wonder what is the reason for this call, but I’m not going to ask. I’ll happily take as much of his time as he can give me, before he gets busy with moving and his new life.

“Nothing,” I reply truthfully, “I mean—I’ve had kind of a slow day today. I just—I’ll get back to work later, right now I’m just trying to unwind myself, I guess.”

“Oh,” he replies, “something on your mind?” Oh, you have no idea.

I try to laugh it off, hoping he won’t try to dig any deeper, “honestly, the usual. You know, life.”

To my relief, he just laughs in response, “yeah, me, if anyone, would know about that. Like, fuck—tell me about it! I don’t know at this point if I’m fighting demons, or if I’m the demon.”

We both laugh and it’s so nice even for a few seconds to just laugh with him, and I hate even more what is about to happen to us. 

“Yeah, like I don’t know who prayed for my downfall, but it’s working for them.”

He yawns, “see, you get it! I knew you would.” Except that I don’t…

“Anyway—you’re probably wondering, how am I doing, so considerate of you. Being all worried and shit. I am after all just a baby. But I’m doing great! Uh—I’ll be busy as fuck soon, so...,” he trails off. 

I hum. I know what he means by that, that he won’t have much time for me anymore. “Yeah, I understand,” I tell him, trying not to sound too sad nor too happy. Just neutral, like how I wish I could actually feel about it. 

“Yeah, so, it’s a big fuckin’ step, but I still think it’s a step that needs to be taken, content-wise, because, after all I just want to keep getting better and bigger. I mean, there is no such thing as too big. That’s what I tell myself every time I—okay, I’m gonna stop myself right there.”

He laughs at himself and I stand stunned for a while, until the joke hits me and I laugh too. And… it made me feel flustered. He is just something else. That’s why I like him. As a friend!

“What was I saying? I don’t know, but yeah, it’s happening and I’m excited. So many fuckin’ great things happening. I hope the same goes for you.”

I hum again, since I don’t trust my voice right now, “thanks. I hope so too. I’m really excited for you. Don’t miss me too much while you’re gone.” Just one lie after another. 

“I’ll try not to. I think I should be the one saying that. You don’t miss me too much.”

“Wait, who are you again?”

“Okay, fuck you. Bye.”

We both break into laughter again over the ridiculous banter and hang up. Seems like things are going, and will go, well for him.

I put on a very lazy outfit, since I had no plans to go anywhere today.I had too much time on my hands, so I started overthinking again, and for the rest of the day, it was one thought after another. I wish I could see him one last time, why didn’t he ask to? I mean, I know why. Because we’re not close like that. It was a one time thing, won’t happen again. He probably said that he wants to see me again just to avoid disappointing me and hurting my feelings. They will be hurt either way. 

I wonder what Alex is doing right now, 7PM on a Wednesday night. A text pops up on my phone as I'm scrolling online… from him?!

“Hey! I have some spare time tomorrow, you wanna come over? I kinda owe it to you, but I wouldn’t mind you seeing you either. It’s a fucking mess here but I’m sorry I can’t pack neatly.” 7:01 PM

What on Earth? It seems like for some reason we are in each other’s subconsciousness. I asked for this, but now I feel weird that this is happening. I’m getting what I want and I don’t think I will want it again. I reply;

“Sure! Thought you’d never ask.” 7:03 PM

I slept better that night. Who knows why.

.

The next morning I was up before the sun, bright and early. It wasn’t until the afternoon when I had promised to be at Alex’s place, but I couldn’t sleep and lay still anymore. I’m itching for something to happen, something that involves him and getting to see him, possibly for the last time in a long time.

Then later in the day, it was me going downtown again in the same bus, walking over to the same building. The same elevator ride upstairs. The same long hallway. The same door that already looks like coming home. I shouldn’t get so attached anymore. No more crazy thoughts. 

This time I didn’t even wait around, but rang the doorbell as I pulled my earbuds out. Ironically, there’s nothing but petty, angry love songs on the radio today where someone’s leaving and someone gets hurt. I feel like I have nothing to be scared or nervous about right now. If anything, my feelings should be scared of me, because I’m not going to feel anything. Whatever I felt the last time I was here, I’m over it. 

I heard him turning the lock and there he was, opening the door, all smiles. He looks happy. This time, though, I don’t think I’m alone the reason for it. He doesn’t surprisingly look as disheveled or tired as I imagined, either. In fact, he looks like he has been personally touched by an angel. He is, well, glowing, you could say. Every piece of him.

“Hi!” he ushers me inside, not wasting any time.

I march right inside, “you’re happy to leave.”

He rubs his hands together, “c’mon! I’m having the fuckin’ time of my life! Like—I’ve had good news, c’mon on! Cut me some slack!” He’s so excited to go. Wow. 

If I was him, I would feel more bittersweet, perhaps, but people like him just don’t seem to be having a hard time saying goodbye. Maybe people like him aren’t even supposed to stay too long in one place, like the world needs him as much as I do. Good for him, but sucks for me. He then went off, leaving me by myself, like I’m already one with the house and know my way perfectly around.

I followed him to the kitchen, where it was boxes upon boxes. The living room didn’t look any different. The house looks swept, from what I can see so far. His setup is the only thing that looks somewhat the same, but I can tell there’s things missing, already been put away.

“Wow, you really weren’t kidding, like, this is really happening,” I say, mostly to myself.

This place looks weird and dead now that it’s almost empty, like it’s empty of life too. 

“Yeah! What, are you gonna miss me and shit?” he asks me, amused by the thought, “no sad, happy!”

Then he quite literally places his hand on my shoulder and gives it a comforting rub, before taking off again. I don’t know if it made me feel better or worse.

“I—“

“So,—“

We start at the same time, following by us both saying ’sorry’ in sync. Awkward. But hey, that got us to laugh again. Oh, how I just like laughing with him. I think it’s one of my favourite sounds. God forbid, if he could read my thoughts right now.

“I was just going to ask if I ever get to see you cooking in that kitchen, like you promised?” Way to change the subject. 

Alex gasps with his mouth agape, “no fuckin’ way! How the fuck are you one step ahead of me? I made some of it last night, wondered if you wanna have a bite with me? I mean, of course, you fuckin´ do, right?!”

He starts clapping excitedly, before I could say anything. But the answer is going to be yes, nonetheless. A perfect way to waste some time with him.

In the kitchen, I already knew my seat. It’s the same one I sat on the last time I was here. It felt like personally addressed. I reach for the chair at the same time as he turns to pull it out for me as an act of chivalry. It caused us to knock into each other. Not hard enough to cause an accident, but hard enough to make us both feel embarrassed.

We laugh again, more awkward this time. That was probably the worst fake laugh I’ve ever had to do with him. I sit down and watch as he turns his back to me and takes something out of the fridge.

“This,” he announces, “is my secret recipe, fuckin’ incredible, guacamole.” He brings it to the table and goes back to kitchen to fetch us something to enjoy it with, until sitting down with me. He tells me to dig in, while sitting back and taking off his beanie and running his fingers through his hair. God knows why it made my breath hitch.

When I finally make the move to dig in like he told me to, it’s unlucky he made the same choice at the same time. Our hands touch lightly, before we both quietly apologize and pull them apart like they just had been burned. 

“Relax, it’s all yours,” I tease him.

“Fuck you,” he giggles, a smile creeping in, like he’s glad I broke the tension.

The food was honestly pretty good. I hum in enjoyment, “this is good, you were right.”

He laughs, “I told you. Get used to me being right, if you haven’t yet, it’s about time. I mean, I was right about you, too.”

Is he doing this again, getting all mysterious and sentimental about me? And he does it whenever there’s no escape for me from the conversation, too. I wonder what’s really weighing on his heart. 

I ask him instead, “okay, what does that mean? You always do this.”

“Well, if it wasn’t for my mastermind, you wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t have something here that made me thought about staying, but, you know, it’s not like I’m leaving for good.”

I was on his mind as something that’s worth staying for? There’s not much left he can give me anymore, we’re running low on things to say or do when there’s so little time left, but he never wanted to leave without telling me that. It’s the one last high, before we flatline. 

“You really think so? That I’m that special? I’m sure whatever you will find next is going to be worth it, though. I’ll be fine.” I can only keep lying to myself for so long. I’ll be a mess.

Alex straightens himself in his seat, like he’s about to say something crucial, “you’re so fuckin’ special, like I don’t know who hurt you so that you always have to question it. Like this is not the first time we’ve had this conversation.”

He’s right. But what he doesn’t know is that it’s him leaving that hurts me. Maybe I’m just insecure, because I know I’m always replaceable. But maybe he doesn’t think so. 

He slyly continues, “whatever it is, whoever they are… they don’t matter now. Don’t think about them, just think about us—or me, you know I would never judge you for how you feel. And I even told you already that you mean a lot to me, so what are you scared of anymore?”

“I—,“ I really don’t know what to say, “I don’t mean to make this about myself, but… I guess I was just excited to spend more time with you and now you won’t be here. And I know it, that I was a chapter in your life, but you have a whole book to write. So I don’t know how much space there is anymore to write about me.”

I know better than get attached to people like him. They have the whole world to impress, I’m just one person.

“Damn, that was some deep shit. I was not fuckin’ ready for that by any means, but fine. Fuck it, let’s take the deep road,” he babbles in his usual way, “it’s not like the next time I see you will be awkward anyway, because, you know… I won’t fuckin’ see you. I’ll be long gone.”

I pretend to gasp at the joke and play along, even though the truth behind it hurts.

“But I agree, it’s been great, but, you know, I’m just a call away. And I always, always have time for you, like I’ve already fuckin’ saved you a seat in my mind, so I never forget to keep you in my thoughts. See? That was pretty good, I can get deep in shit too,” he grins almost child-likely and nudges me as he gets up and goes on his merry way to the kitchen, cleaning up the table. 

He seems like he’ll be fine enough, so I feel dumb to push it anymore. I just nod, even against my own will and avert my gaze. Maybe I should stop acting so ungrateful, I still get to keep my job and it’ll almost like force him to talk to me once in a while. It’s not the end of my world. Maybe.

We talk more, this time with me trying to act reasonable. He seems to like and laugh at everything I say. I try my best too to keep a smile on my face and tell him, “I’m sure it’ll be fine and we both make it. I’ll be here rooting for you, king.”

“Thank you so much, thank you. It really means a lot coming from you. I’m glad you seem to feel better.”

Yeah. Surely, I’ll be fine… I’ll fake it if I can’t make it. As he’s cleaning up, he tells me I can feel at home and get some water from the fridge if I want to. Well, I eventually figured I should make myself useful and walked up to the fridge in unbreakable strides. 

He seemed to be finished with the dishes and stepped to his right where I was, and our bodies had another collision, I think this being the worst one yet. Like we’re used to it already and know the route out of the awkwardness, we just laugh it off. I don’t understand what the universe is trying to tell me to do right now, because it seems like every move I decide for myself to make is wrong. 

And there comes that weird tension again. I hope he doesn’t think I’m trying to try something here. I would never. But he seems more than fine, and definitely not like he’s internally cursing my name, as he is casually standing there next to me, making these ridiculous expressions and sounds in result of a brain freeze, since the water was pretty much ice cold. It made us both laugh and smile like nothing had happened.

What do we do now? Is this it? I thought as I soon announce that I should leave, before anything else can happen. I make quick work on putting my jacket on and tying my shoelaces, reaching for the door just as he does, and there I find myself bumping right into his side again. 

I suddenly feel the urgent need for the floor to swallow me whole, but since that’s not happening, running out the door seems very tempting. I can’t handle another one of these accidents. I’m so embarrassed. Not the kind of ending I imagined for our story, but I guess it’s better than drowning in tears. Maybe I have a chance in surviving losing him, if this is how I feel.

“Sorry for whatever that was,” I apologize again, God knows for how manyth time today.

He just timidly laughs, not as loudly and lively as he usually does, but it was still a laugh, “it’s okay, you know, it takes two to… fuck up, something like that, right?”

I laugh too now, “that’s true.”

Now we are just standing in the doorway, thinking who’s going to be the first to say goodbye. And I didn’t find it in me to just run out and leave without it. To my luck, he breaks the moment of silence, “so, uh…. I wanna tell you that I’ll see you soon, but I’m actually not sure when I’ll be able to do that. So—I know you understand, right?”

I do. I understand what is happening. It’s almost like it’s finally sinking in that this is it. I don’t know what the future holds. Will I see him again? 

“I don’t want to make any promises, but… I’ll see you at last whenever I’m back, whenever that will be. I’ll talk to you about the new work schedule too, when it’s more topical,” he rants. Yep, at least I get to keep my job. 

I just nod sympathetically, “I understand. Good luck with everything, honestly. I’ll see you someday and in the meantime, we can always talk on the phone.” I feel the need to still remind him that just because he’s not here, doesn’t mean I’m not waiting to hear from him every day. 

“Of course,” he smiles genuinely, so wide that it reaches his eyes, which makes me want to take his word for it.

He then pulls me into a lingering hug, which surprised us both, how there was no hesitation this time to be so close to each other. Sure, my time with him has been short-lived, but it has meant something. Every second mattered and in a matter of seconds time will be irrelevant. Oh, how life goes.

He pats my back, which felt both like a curse and a blessing. It felt too nice to not happen again in a long, long time. Why couldn’t I feel this way when there was still time? 

When he next stares at me from under his long lashes with an unreadable expression on his face, like he’s trying hard to memorize something, I make the move to leave before I fall any deeper into the despair.

It takes a second for him to realise it and to follow me, and now he leans against the doorway, as if he needs something else to cling on to now that I’m out of his reach.

“Go on then, little superstar,” I giggle, “I won’t forget you. Which would be impossible, anyway.”

He starts grinning again, and before he can get too ahead of things and himself, I roll my eyes, “I’m trying to be nice here.”

He gets serious and gives me a more gloomy look before turning it into a smile to almost prevent any emotions spilling, “I know, I know, sorry. Me neither. Trust me.” Trust. That’s what I need, to trust him and let the rest roll off my shoulders.

Soon after we say the final farewells and I watch and hear the door click close for the last time and he is out of my sight for also possibly the last time, at least for a long while. Call me selfish, or a bad person, all of it, but there’s no way he’s actually leaving. I don’t want him to. There’s no way after all that sunshine, it’s now raining this hard. When it rains, it really pours.

Quite literally, indeed, because when I stepped out of the building, it was raining. Ironic. I put my hood on and made my way quickly to the bus stop, staring at the black screen of my phone like any second now he’s going to tell me something, something along the lines of like he has changed his mind. I wiped the raindrops off the screen, they reminded me of teardrops. For some strange reason, I don’t feel like crying at all.

I was already cursing the bus, the bus route, the bus stop. Everything here is going to remind me of him. I can never come back here, unless it’s with him. There’s no way I’m in this deep already, but I am. And there’s no bottom or no one to hold me up this time, I’ll just keep sinking. 

.

The next morning, and the next one, and the next one my immediate thought was Alex, not to anyone’s surprise. The thought of his existence didn’t get me so high as it used to do, since he will now exist so far from me. Just when everything started falling into place. I had already let myself forget the day he’s leaving. Was it yesterday or today, or tomorrow? Or maybe it’s better if I don’t know and will let him leave quietly. So quietly, that the sound of it doesn’t make me flinch. 

I figure I can’t just lay down here in my bed the entirety of my existence or Alex being gone, I have to get back to work and back to, well, what life was like before there was him. But what was my life like without him? I’m not sure I can recall it. 

I realise I could do anything I ever want, but I’m stuck here and there’s a void in me that looks like him. I feel like I’m supposed to just sit on my hands, what else would I do? Later that night I throw myself on the bed again, ready to waste time scrolling through my phone, maybe watch some TV.

I open Twitter and wait as it loads new content for me to see. So, what do I do on Twitter? I do follow Alex, and I see that he hasn’t posted anything new. I also do follow people I find interesting, a few friends, people who have the same music taste and interests as me. I haven’t caught up with the timeline since last night.

The further I scroll, the more I see concerning headlines of news. What the hell is this?

“Another COVID-19 lockdown possible, says experts.”

What’s going on? It says just a few states have been put on high alert, the one I’m in is not included, at least for now. We still get to go about our lives here. I feel my heart sink, thinking about going back to square one. I don’t think we as society can take another one of those. I see it before my very eyes how the news are spreading like wildfire. Everyone is talking about it. It’s all I see and I think it’s all I will see even in my sleep tonight. 

I read until the words didn’t make any sense to me anymore, they were just words of confirming what we all fear. They just made me sick. As the night fell on me, I know I wasn’t the only one in the world who laid wide awake that night. What’s going to happen?

So much for summer plans and so much for possibly visiting Alex or him visiting me. Shit. I just realised what this means for us. It’s the state where he went that’s one of the few mentioned to be prepared to shut down. If only he had never left. 

.

I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s now been more than a few days since I had last seen and heard from Alex, too long when he’s all I think about. I want to know more, ask him how he is. I’m also a little worried, like how he had joked I would be, but now I really am. The world is suddenly not ours to take anymore, so I guess I have a valid reason to be. I text him;

“How is everything?” 1:24 PM

A completely harmless, friendly question. It doesn’t give away too much and he can write me back whenever he finds the time to. 

Instead of doing so, he almost right away was calling me. Even a bigger bargain: I get to hear his voice again!

I picked up the phone expecting him to be in a frantic, excited hassle, but he was calm, it was almost too quiet on his end for someone who’s doing as much as he is. Actually, he didn’t seem to be in a rush at all and definitely didn’t sound as excited as he had the other day. I can only assume he’s tired, that’s the only logic that makes some sense.

“Hey,” wow, he does sound worn-out.

“Hey. I bet you’re tired, so you didn’t have to call me. I just wanted to know that… how are things in wherever you are?”

“No, of course I want to talk,” he assures, “I’m—something happened. I’m sure you’ve seen the news. It’s fuckin’ crazy out there.”

It hits me again. The news that feels like the end of the world all over again. I feel for him. Is he now possibly stuck in another state for longer than he anticipates? 

I sigh, “yeah. I was hoping it won’t mess with you too much?”

“I’m just as fuckin’ caught off guard as you, but… I really can’t go. It’s too bad out there where I was supposed to go to that I can’t go, I can’t risk it. And I don’t want to seem like an ignorant asshole and just take off.”

“What?” I stutter, “I mean, it makes sense, but you mean—where are you right now?”

He lets out a little sad laugh, “I’m still here, in this great apartment of mine, in the middle of all these boxes and all of my shit is packed up, all of it. And now I’m not even going. Think about it.”

He is still here? He never even left? Or more like, he didn’t have the time to leave? He continues before I could get a word in, “I mean, fuck it, I still might as well fuckin’ move to the next block in the spite of having to pack and unpack everything.” 

That made us laugh amidst all of the chaos. I feel bad for him, but it’s a funny thought. But, back to the real topic, he is not leaving after all? What is this universe up to? Did I manifest this unfortunate and unexpected turn of events? I’m starting to feel like I did.

“So, stupid question, I know, but how are you? You never got to leave? I thought for sure you were already gone,” I ask, “sorry, this must be so shitty, I can’t even imagine, and you probably don’t want to answer my stupid questions right now.”

“No, no! I do want to talk, more than ever. I was supposed to leave the day after I last saw you and then all of this kind of happened overnight. I don’t know—I’m just thinking about all the things and shit I don’t get to do now.”

He was so excited just for everything to be called off right before the kick off. I pity him. I’m not exactly sure how to comfort him in times like this, how to say the right things. What even are the right things to say? I know I wanted him to stay, but I never wanted it to happen like this, in a way that drains him of all of his contagious joy.

We talked a long while. Or more like, I let him talk and didn’t wait for my turn to talk. I listened with curiosity and empathy, for as long as he needed. I didn’t fill in the silences, just listened. The last thing he says to me on the phone before we hang up, comes as a total surprise, “hey—you wanna come over?”

. 

And so it went, there I was again taking the same bus downtown to him. I never saw this coming. This looks like a film everyone would love to act in, where the one never gets away, but this is real life. I don’t know how to direct it yet, but I will keep looking for the answers for why this is happening and why he keeps always coming back to me, sometimes even against his own will.

Of course I said yes, when he asked me to come over. 

By the time I rode the elevator, I was fuzzy in the head. This was not supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to come here again, not after we said those goodbyes not even a week ago.

I walked up to his door, and as by some instinct, he opened it before I could even knock. I did a double take, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I mean, it’s him, but... he looks great. Happier, for some reason, even when there’s not much to be happy about, or so I thought. I wonder who made him like that. Whoever it is, consider them lucky. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so serene and beautiful like he does in this light. 

“Hi!” he lets me in, “alright, let’s just forget about the fuckin’ dramatic goodbyes that we had and pretend none of that shit happened.”

He then giggles at his own recollections, so did I. How many times you get this lucky when there is no bye in goodbye? I also still don’t know what is keeping the smile on his face right now. If there is sadness in there, he’s not showing it.

“Yeah, this is pretty fucked. Not to make things about me, but I thought I would like never see you again. Like you’re gonna start a whole new life without me.”

He shakes his head, “not this time. And I mean—I still wanna keep you, I’m not just gonna fuckin’ let you go, no matter what happens. You’re stuck with me, pal.”

“Yeah, literally. You couldn’t get too far even if you tried.” I wonder if he will ever make it out of here. Right now, everything feels impossible. None of us will get out anytime soon.

“Yeah, see?” he grins.

I see some of the boxes in his house are still up, some of them opened and unloaded, as if something necessary has been taken out of them. He follows my gaze and laughs nervously, “yeah, I know, it’s a fuckin’ mess here. And—it’s just that all of these news are fuckin’ with my head, you know? You feel it too?”

I nod. It’s not bad at all where we are, but what if it gets bad here? The only rule is that we can’t exit the state, but that’s already enough to mess up people’s plans. Like his. It’s all ruined for him.

We talk about these arising fears as he guides us to the kitchen and motions me to take a seat. I smile at his thoughtfulness and sit down. He sits across from me, bringing some snacks on the table.

As I secretly watch him there in the brief silence that occurs when we chew on the snacks, I feel the same old familiar excitement to see him and to be here with him. Like I want to fight all the odds that prevents keeping me right here forever. He makes me feel excited about life, especially when we have more promised time now. That’s the closest my words will get to the feeling I can’t explain.

And, he looks... great. Brand new. Attractive, even some would say. Not me, of course… I clear my throat, hoping he’s not catching on to me, “so, you called me here, because… you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I just needed to know that… I still have you. Like no matter what shit goes wrong, I’ll always have you here. Especially now, when being alone is the last thing I want. I can’t even see my friends from other states or from home, in case shit gets worse, but you’re always here, right?” he rambles.

I’m still too a bit freaked out that I now have him here, right here where I wanted him all along, I suddenly don’t seem to know or remember what I always wanted to tell him. I think he just beat me to it. I think we really need each other, especially at times like this when loneliness is almost bound to happen.

“Yeah, of course. As selfish as this sounds… I’m glad you’re still here. I don’t think I was ready to say goodbye just yet,” I didn’t know what else to say to his emotional outburst other than answering with the same concerns. If honesty is what he wants and needs to hear, then so be it. 

“I knew it. I knew you’re happy I never left”, he tries to suppress his usual grin and raises a brow challengingly at me, “you need me.”

I roll my eyes, “what? That’s all you decided to take from that?”

We both laugh at the banter, like we always used to do. I’m glad we are able to pick up right where we left off. It’s like nothing ever happened. Even though I think we are getting a little sidetracked here. 

He adjusts himself in the chair and leans back, crossing his arms as if to appear more intimidating, “what can I say? I have a selective hearing, you tell me you need me and I’m fuckin’ all ears, just like that.”

“I—okay. I didn’t say I need you, I’m just happy you’re still here. I know, it’s probably weird for me to say this—“

At this point I felt like I was squirming in my seat under his gaze. Why is he doing this, almost obsessed with the idea of me needing him?

“Hey, no. I’m sorry if I went too far joking about it and making you feel like it’s weird. It’s not. I feel very… fuckin’ happy you think so highly of me.”

We talk more, and I learn that the news of the possible COVID-19 outbreak, even if it’s not happening here, has really messed with him and I understand a little better why he is being like this. No one wants to feel isolated and alone and he seems to be holding onto me now more than ever. I understand him, but it will change us. For worse or for better, nobody knows.

“Anything else before I go?”

“Actually, yeah. I have a few friends pop over in a few days. You should come too,” he tells me like it’s nothing and like he has already made up my mind for me.

“Oh?” I ask with genuine surprise, “are you sure? Do you really thinks it’s a good idea for me to meet them?”

“Of course! I think it’d be fuckin’ awesome! They’ve been in the city for a few days now, they’re not coming from another state, so it’s all good, all safe.“

“Okay.”

He grins happily, “great!”

What am I getting myself into here? I need to think things through when I get home. He walks me to the door not soon after that. I thought to open the door and walk myself out, but he had the same thought to open it for me, causing us to collide with each other again. This is such a deja vu, but I didn’t remember how awkward it exactly is.

“Yeah, that’s it. I’ll stop being a gentleman right at this fuckin’ second,” he laughs. I laugh too, because as awkward as it is, he makes it funny.

“Okay, I’m gonna go now, before you jump at me again,” I finally make the move to leave. 

“Uh—excuse me!” he yells after me, “it takes two! It takes two, pal!”

I keep backing away until I’m so far from him, that we pretty much have to yell to make ourselves heard in this hallway, before waving him goodbye. I made some quick strides to the elevator, it was waiting for me on the same floor as if to rescue me. What is he doing to me and why is it working? And why do I kind of like it?

.

So, how do I actually feel about Alex inviting me over with his friends there? The thought of it seemed to excite him greatly, but I, on the other hand, am not sure if I can reciprocate his feelings. I do like hanging out with him doing nothing, but when you throw other people in the mix, will it just blow up in our faces? Am I just ruining things to make myself miserable at this point?

I so want to text my friend at times like this, even though I’m highly aware they would force me to go and socialize, but I figure this is something I just have to decide myself and for myself. Some would say this is out of my comfort zone, but what else would I find comfort in if not being around him? How bad could it be there?

My phone makes a sound. There’s really only one person who would have a reason to text me right now. It’s time to make up my mind, I guess.

I was right, it was Alex, 

“Sooo you coming tonight? I hope?” 4:35 PM

Fortunately for him, I don’t think I have it in me to tell him no. Not when he sounds like this, like he needs me. Like it’s up to me to make or break his night. It’s a lot of pressure to be this important to someone like him.

For now, I reply,

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” 4:39 PM

It’s as if he knows me inside out again and that I’m still questioning my choice, because he doesn’t leave it there, but says,

“Awesome, I was already thinking you’d bail on me.” 4:40 PM

That’s awkward. 

“Never.” 4:40 PM

Guess I’m going. 

.

I popped by a liquor store on my way to his before I hopped on the bus. I’m not usually the one to drink, especially on the first meeting, but I think I need some liquid courage, because I will decay before I can meet those new people if I think about it too hard. Have I already made it obvious that I’m a nervous wreck? It’s already an accident scene in my mind. When I finally arrive at his door, I could already hear the voices of many that I’m not familiar with. It’s still not too late to back out, but I won’t. I didn’t come this far just to come this far.

I knock on the door, and then it opens, revealing Alex behind it, smiling at me radiantly as ever. The smile that I think makes this all worth it. 

He seems to be already having fun with his friends, so it’s still unclear to me why he wanted me here to shuffle the pack. I put on a happy face and my best foot forward, greeting him with the same enthusiasm. Faking it until I make it.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” he was grinning, like he was proud to have lured me here.

“Of course! Always up for a challenge.”

“Hey, everyone’s gonna like you, as much as I do. You don’t ever have to worry about that,” he pouts. 

I wonder what caused him to say that. What is suddenly so likeable about me and how can he sound so sure of everything?

I step in the living room and see three other people that are still strangers to me. So that’s not too bad, I can tackle three. And perhaps Alex was right, if he invited me here it must mean there’s something he sees in me that everyone else will too. It was when I found my seat that they started talking and then it was my job to keep up.

“Hi! I’m Karl!” a brunette opposite me spoke and gave me a little wave. 

“Punz,” the person next to him raised his hand as a greeting and popped snacks into his mouth.

“Oh! I’m Foolish!” the last person speaks and laughs lightly.

I wonder what happens next and how much they already know, or more like, what has Alex told them about me. Well, I was nevertheless about to tell them something that I hoped to be interesting enough, but got cut off by Punz as he waves me off and gestures to bottles on the table, “oh, we know who you are. Here, have one—oh, you brought your own drinks, nice.”

Oh, now I really am curious what have they heard from Alex. If it’s anything like what he told me at the door, I have a lot of expectations to meet. I’m totally cool about it, as cool as the drink I crack open and take a sip of. Bless them for initiating small talk while we wait for something to happen, since we are still the guests here.

Speaking of Alex, where the hell did he go? I haven’t seen him ever since he let me in and told me I don’t have to worry about a thing. Well, now I am worrying a bit, am I the only one who feels bothered by his absence? 

“Yo, where the hell did he go?” Karl asks everyone at the table.

So, it seems I’m not.

We all look around ourselves but he was nowhere to be seen. As if he planned this all along, leaving me alone with his friends so we have no other choice but to gather around and talk to each other. It would have happened even without his shenanigans, so I don’t understand why this was necessary, if that is the case.

We couldn’t help, but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Karl hid his smile with his sleeves and slapped the armrest, “he really said hi and bye. Can you believe him?”

He shakes his head disapprovingly. Punz seems fixated on the snacks he is still eating, good for him. Foolish was laughing too, like this was the main entertainment. I feel anything but entertained, I forgot to expect the unexpected whenever I am with Alex. You never know with him. I just sat there and drank my drink.

“So, what do you guys wanna do? Since it’s just us,” Foolish asks and wiggles his eyebrows, leaning forward to rest his hands on his knees, balancing the neck of a bottle on his fingertips.

I don’t want them to change their plans for me or to stop doing what they were doing before I got here, but obviously, true to my nature, I don’t dare to tell them that. My head is playing tricks on me, making me think there’s still a reason to keep my guard up and shy away.

Karl looks like he’s going to say something, like a brilliant idea washed over him, but then just asks me, “you two seem like you’re pretty close. Are you?” 

My jaw slacks open in surprise. I assume he’s talking about me and Alex. What do I even say to that? 

“Yeah, I think so—“

“Really? What do you like about him?” Karl bombards me with more questions, “ahem, as friends, of course.”

What is this about? What are my answers being used for? 

I’m confused, but answer, “uh—everything?”

I don’t really know what to say and I acknowledge that Alex could come back any second and I don’t exactly want to be caught talking like this. 

Karl tucks his lips into a tight-lipped smile, “well, if that ain’t the cutest thing. I asked him the same thing and he told me pretty much the same about you. Do whatever you want with that information.”

It’s now my turn to ask him, “really?”

He said that?

Karl just smiles again and yells out to Alex, wherever he is, “in case you forgot, you still have guests over and we would like to do something here, with or without you!”

Okay, so that conversation is over and I’m left drawing the conclusions and connecting the dots myself. It looks like a messy map of undecided feelings and missing truths. Did he really mean it, and if, why?

We all dissolve into laughter when Alex finally comes out of hiding and yells, “okay, asshole! Some of us has to look good tonight.”

Not too much had changed about him that would explain why he was gone for so long. Well, he had changed his outfit and from what I can tell, maybe fluffed his hair a bit, but I don’t see why that is necessary. He can do whatever he wants in his house, I guess. Not that I mind what he looks like, I myself am very casual and so are the other guests.

“So,” he claps his hands together and sits down next to me, not taking his eyes off me, “you okay?” 

I nod. He has no reason to worry about me so much, but I appreciate his heartfelt care. It’s a two-way street, I acknowledge I would do the same. It causes a grin to break out on his face, “great! So, should we play something? Jackbox?”

We did that. I was sitting there on the couch, with my legs pulled up to my chest, curling away, watching the game play on, downing my drink. 

Somewhere along the night, he was resting his arm on the back of my seat. I didn’t think much of it, until I felt his fingers toy with my hair. Does he even realise he’s doing it? I let it go and let him do his thing. It’s new for the both of us, a touch that’s so gentle and light as a feather it’s almost make-believe, but it feels nice and real. It’s making me want to stay here longer.

The game went on, we didn’t get through a round without laughter and genuine fun. I don’t know what happened to me about halfway through the night, I drank like never before. It occurred to me that it’s a receipt for disaster, but I’m way past thinking straight anymore. We just had a bit too much fun, or I did. Like I said, I never take things this far, but the rules slipped my mind tonight.

Foolish stretches with a strained cry and we all contagiously yawn as we wrap up the game for the night.

Alex mumbles next to me, “did you guys know there’s a fuckin’ fancy pool downstairs? I think it’s closed now and probably has restrictions and shit anyway—”

“Why tell us about it then?” Punz asks.

Karl was giggling again, “and who asked? We get it, you’re rich and we can’t go there—”

“No!” Alex defended his case, “I just—that would’ve been cool.”

It would’ve. I’d like to see the pool. Maybe someday. 

Karl hums, “hm, did you want to look at the stars with me and kiss me under the moonlight?”

We all laugh again and watch Alex throw a cushion at him.

Everyone soon scattered around the house to take bathroom breaks and such. As I attempt to hoist myself up, I definitely feel more drunk than I had intended to be tonight. I give up and sit back and hug my knees again, hoping this will pass. Alex gets up too to clean up the empty bottles on the table and floor. I’m scared I’m going to make a mess that won’t be so easy to clean up. 

I’m mentally cursing everything and myself, mostly myself for crossing the line, and how awkward it is sitting here alone. I want to get up and make things better, but before I know what is happening, I find myself falling to the ground. There’s no way to really say how I feel other than that I feel like I’m on a merry-go-round that doesn’t stop for anyone. It’s making my stomach churn and head spin. Everything is spinning, until I crash and hit the ground, or whatever I fell onto.

I’m listening but don’t hear anything, thinking it’s the alcohol messing with my head, until I realise there’s no sound. It’s a pin-drop silence. We’re almost frozen in time, right in this moment.

Alex finally fills the silence and speaks to me, holding onto me, “are you okay? Should I—tell me what can I do for you?”

Did he…. catch me? I mean, he must have, because I’m not shattered on the floor right now, but instead it was a very delicate fall. It didn’t even feel like falling, but the proof that I did is right there when I open my eyes that brings me a distorted vision of the floor.

“It’s probably just the alcohol, you know. We should get them water,” I hear someone else speak for me.

I then hear sounds from the kitchen, until it’s silent again, anticipating. 

“Here,” Alex advised me, “drink this.”

I felt a glass tilted against my lips and gulped down some water, and prayed this will all pass. This is such a nightmare, and I don’t even know who’s the villain here. I didn’t even drink that much, or did I?

Alex shakes me a little to get my focus, “do you feel sick? Just nod or shake your head.”

He kneels by my side and lays a warm hand on my shoulder, rocking me a little. That’s one thing I’m painfully aware of right now, how close we are. I hesitate to let him get any closer to me, in case this turns into an awkward memory. I mean, it’s already embarrassing enough as it is, I just don’t need him to touch me in ways he will later regret. 

He seems to notice my upset state and lifts my head to rest on his knees for a little comfort and holds me a little closer. This way, I can feel his every move, almost even every breath he takes. It oddly helps me, trying to synchronise our breathing, reminding myself that I can live through this.

I shake my head weakly, too weak to speak. Thankfully, he understands. I can see it in his terror-stricken eyes. Is he scared for? 

“So, that’s a no. Would it be okay to move you onto the couch?”

I nod, giving him the green light. I’m still here, pathetically lying on the floor like a wounded animal and no one knows what’s the right thing to do.

Alex nods back at me, “okay. Is this a stupid question if I ask if you can stand up? Even just for a few s—”

“Oh my God,” Punz groans, “yeah, no offence at all, but that’s a stupid question. I mean, look at them.”

Yeah, look at me... I know there’s no judgment there behind his words, it sounds almost pitiful, the way he talks about me. He sounds like someone who wants the best for me. 

“Okay,” Alex panics, “sorry. Is it—do you want me to carry you?”

Like he’s asking permission from me before daring to move me or touch me in a new way. I’m not in a good headspace to think, but that was kind of adorable of him. I nod, before I feel overtaken by nausea again. I can feel it in my guts, literally. 

I can make out Alex again hovering somewhere over me as he witnesses the colour draining from my face and my eyes drooping, like there’s something I’m trying to fight against. He seems to get the hint when I gesture him that I don’t feel good and then there’s four voices again frantically talking over each other about what to do with me.

“Are you—okay, okay. Should we go to the bathroom?!” Alex’s freaking out. Poor him.

Meanwhile I think I officially have the worst taste in making decisions. I’m in last place in learning lessons. This should have never happened. It doesn’t matter anymore, but I know better. 

“Yes!” Punz steps in, “take them!”

Those are the last words I can hear before I feel like silently I’m blacking out and spiralling into darkness.

. 

The next time I gain some sort of consciousness is when someone is talking and gently caressing me. I’m on the floor again, and that floor is cold, which feels nice on my hot skin. I don’t know where I am now, or who is with me, but my head is too heavy to ask myself those questions. I want to lay here for a second and just catch my breath, before I catch myself triggering another wave of nausea.

I feel someone leave my side for a minute, before they come back and drape something warm over me, as I lie still, too sick to utter a word. And so there were no further words spoken, until they squeeze me tight and whisper, “are you okay? Please, for the love of fuckin’ everything, tell me you’re okay.”

Assuming they are talking to me, I nod. I’m getting there, I’m going to be fine. I think.

“Oh, thank God,” they whisper back, keeping their voice low, “tell me if you need anything and I’ll deal with it.”

I really need my bed. No more words are needed when they say everything with their touch, rubbing their fingers comfortingly against my skin where they are holding my arm. I take a sharp breath as I feel my stomach twist and turn again very unpleasantly and pray they don’t hear it, but they do.

“It’s okay,” they murmur quietly again, “is it okay that I’m here with you?”

I nod again. 

I lost all track of time and place as I laid there in the silence. The silence seemed to be fulfilling enough for the person with me too, like keeping me company was the main reason they are here. By the way, I have no idea how long me and they have been here, wherever we are, but they never rush me. It never happens, no matter how many minutes of this night we are wasting.

Then it comes to the point of intoxication when I feel very swept up in emotions, like I had burned like a birthday candle that burns for joy, but now I’m burning out. I don’t even flinch when tears prickle my eyes and I start sniffling, as dramatic as it is. I really try to contain it, but my body doesn’t listen and wants to stir the pot and make me more of a mess. So I have no fight in me.

The person next to me doesn’t seem to mind as they lean down to fully capture me, their body radiating warmth against mine and hands urgently pressing wherever they could and stroking my back. Still no words said, but letting the actions speak. I know it’s not the right time or place for this, but when’s the last time someone has held me like this or would love this version of me? They keep me there tightly in place, tucked against their chest, giving my frame a few easing squeezes to tell me to take my time. 

When they pull away, I whine in the loss of comfort they once brought. 

“One more hug?” they ask me. As soon as I nod, we are back to cuddling there on the floor. It must not be so comfortable for them, but they put up with it, for me.

I’m startled to the core when I hear a door opening to the room we’re in, and a voice, “the car’s here. Ready whenever you are.”

That sounds a lot like one of Alex’s friends I met tonight.

The someone who’s still lying by my side tells them, “okay, great. Uh—we’ll be right out, okay?”

That sounds a lot like Alex. 

Wait, so I’m still at Alex’s place, in his bathroom, and everyone is still here? I’m embarrassed. Cheers to the night I wish to forget. The only memory I wish to revisit tomorrow is Alex and his tendency to closely watch over me. He did more than what was enough and showed me something about him I haven’t seen before. I like the new highs he took me to, but I’m not going to like the come-down tomorrow.

I jolt somewhat awake when I’m being helped to stand up and then walked downstairs and put in the awaiting car. This ride is not going to be nice with an upset stomach like mine. I don’t have to worry about that for too long though, when I close my eyes and then I’m out like lights.

.

I wake up to sunlight peaking through the window, shining on my face. I don’t know anything, but I do know that I feel like hell, at least emotionally. My mouth is dry as ever and my body feels icky. It’s uncomfortable to a point, that I wish I could step out of my current skin and put on a clean, nice one that doesn’t hurt. I’m happy to make the observation that I’m in my bed and that I made it home last night, or, well, I must have made the absolute walk of shame home last night.

I don’t know how long I have laid here like the dead, it doesn’t feel that long at all since I was sick at Alex’s. Speaking of him, how will I ever speak to him again without wanting to die of embarrassment? I didn’t have much time to think about it, when my thoughts were diverted to something else; I’m wearing more clothes than I did when I left. I’m talking about the soft hoodie I still have draped over me, Alex’s hoodie that he lent me for comfort. Awkward. It’s so bad I wonder if it will ever get good again.

I’m scared to check my phone, I really don’t want to know or see anything right now that would make me feel worse, but I still check it. The time on the screen tells me that it’s 11:45 AM and that my friend had texted me not so long ago;

“Come to my place today! We’re having a partyyyy. I know you love those ;)” 11:34 AM

Right, it’s Saturday, of course they are having one. When it comes to this party and my invitation, I can’t even look at alcohol right now, not after the night I had. It’s the last thing I need to expose myself to and it’s almost inevitable.

No text from Alex, nothing. A part of me wishes to see him, to apologize and give back his hoodie, but I don’t know what he thinks of me anymore. I know it would be better to make the big step forward and own up to it, but I was so out of line last night that I’m honestly terrified to talk to him right now. He probably resents me. I do too, it’s almost inspiring. I might be weak and unstable, but at least I’m trying. He and what we have, it means too much to let it fall apart.

I went back to bed and texted my friend back, telling them about last night. Not all of it, but enough for them to know I feel vulnerable and psychically I’m not doing much better.

While I lay there in the silence I created, I let the memories from last night creep back, or the ones I can remember. The tender touches from him, the whispers that were all for me. The hold he had of me, like I was the only thing he wanted to touch. I have forgotten to miss his touch already when there’s still a mess I have yet to clean up and this time he won’t help me. He hadn’t signed up for taking care of me, but he still did and followed through like it was a contract. God, how will I ever make it up to him? 

So, tonight’s party. I think I feel fine enough to go as long as I stay away from the drinks, stay there for an hour or two just to say hello to my friend, and then come straight back home and continue rotting in bed. It’s settled then.

I take a long, refreshing shower which soothes some part of me, but I still have this shame that doesn’t come off in the wash. That’s not how life works, unfortunately.

As I’m picking out an outfit, my phone pings to notify me of a text from Alex. Shit. I’m terrified to see what he has to say, but I know I have to take on my biggest enemy right now; the consequences of my actions. I don’t want to leave him hanging right now, so I read it immediately. 

“Are you okay???” 1:34 PM

That’s all his text says.

Well, I have this shame in me that’s eating me alive, but other than that, I feel okay, I guess. This is why I sometimes hate texting, not being able to read people. I can’t tell if he’s mad or worried, or somewhere in between, and I don’t know how I deserve to be perceived right now.

“I’m okay, but so embarrassed I’m not even sure I can talk right now, but I know we need to.” 1:36 PM

He must’ve been waiting to hear from me, because it didn’t take him long to respond;

“No, it’s fine. Seriously don’t worry. I’m just glad you’re okay. It was an honour to take care of you ;)” 1:36 PM

Why would he say that? I can’t remember what I have done and am not sure if I want to know. And when it comes to him reassuring me this is fine, I want to tell him it’s not and that he has every right to be frustrated, but I don’t exactly want to go against what he is saying to me and argue. How will I win if I don’t want to fight?

“Stop, this is so embarrassing. Can’t wait to never be invited again.” 1:37 PM

I fairly wouldn’t be shocked if last night was my last night at his place. His lack of irritation and ability to brush things off has so far been surprising. I wonder if he really is okay and what is he doing today. Is he thinking about me, us, and what to do with me? He is not going to fire me over this, is he?

He replied shortly;

“Can’t wait to invite you again ;) What are you doing today?” 1:39 PM

Just like that, he read my mind. 

“I’m actually going to a friend’s place, there’s a party BUT I am NOT drinking! Just wanna say hi and then bounce. Believe me, alcohol is the last thing I want right now. What are you doing?” 1:41 PM

I feel stupid now that I said it out loud, that I’m attending another party after last night. He must think I’m insane, if he already doesn’t. 

My phone pings again to alert another text from him;

“Oh nice, don’t drink, I’m not there to save you ;) Doing nothing.” 1:44 PM

I’m just going to ignore those winky faces he keeps sending me and how they make me feel. Just when I thought things couldn’t get more weird between us, they do. I type;

“This is as embarrassing for me as it gets, but I still have your hoodie. Tell me when to return it!” 1:46 PM

“Oh, it’s no problem. Think you need it more than me ;)” 1:47 PM

He is acting like he’s the one out of his mind right now. Did we both get up on the wrong side of the world this morning and fell into some alternate universe where nothing feels real or makes sense? 

I don’t know what came over me next when I typed before I could think;

“You wanna come with me to the party? I think we really need to talk.” 1:50 PM

I was terrified to check my phone when it had been a few minutes, and even more when I saw no reply from him. Why did I have to go and do that? Haven’t I been enough trouble for him already? I really need to think more and do less. Or, even better, I could have at least waited until Monday, when he’s going to text me anyway about work and the schedule for the week. It’s really not easy being me right now when I can’t stop screwing up and upsetting people, it seems like.

Next time I checked, he actually had replied;

“Needy smh, but what wouldn’t I do to see you ;) Tell me where and when.” 2:01 PM

He just said yes, as in I will see him very, very soon? This was an unexpected turn of events and I don’t know if we are heading for a dead-end here. I haven’t been this scared in a long time. This is what I wanted, but I think I underestimated myself.

I also made sure to text my friend and keep them in the loop, telling them I will be bringing him with me. I’m only doing this because I will not let him settle for anything less than a proper sorry. But sorry is just a word and not so simple, so what he decides to do with my apology, it’s up to him.

.

I got to the party before Alex did, which was lucky, because it meant I could have some time with my friend before he arrives. I know it’s not all fun and games when he gets here since we still need to talk about… well, last night and I’m not sure what kind of a conversation that will be. It if  doesn’t kill me, it probably will make me wish it had. Will we work or hurt?

I soon spot my friend in the crowded living room that had been turned into a dance floor for the night. The reek of alcohol and the sight of it is enough to make my stomach turn. I’m never drinking again. I push myself through the crowd and tap my friend on the shoulder. They turn around, their eyes lighting up as they see me there.

“Do you want—right, you’re not drinking tonight!” they yell over the music.

I shook my head, “no way. I’ll be just hanging in the kitchen probably, you know, serving you drunks.”

“That’s fine! And hey! What were you last night then?!”

“An idiot.”

They shoot me a sympathetic look and nod again, changing the subject like the good friend they are. We catch up some more, before I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I know it before even checking that it’s Alex texting me, telling me he’s finally here.

“I’m going to find him now!”

My friend just dramatically grins and sends me on my way, “hurry up! Don’t let him get away!”

I make my way back outside, and once I get there I inhale the fresh air that doesn’t stink of alcohol, which washes off all that nausea. My gaze immediately fall on Alex as he stands there cooly, with his hands in his pockets. He really came here for me, or at least that’s what I want to think, but I’m afraid he’s not here to see me just to see me, but for something else.

I forget for a second that I’m supposed to feel ashamed when his face holds a mysterious grin that makes it hard to believe there has even been anything troubling him, “hi! Good to see you standing, literally.”

Okay, so maybe there’s a chance he will try forgiving me and maybe forget.

I gladly accept his hug, letting him pull me to his chest, feelinghisthumb softly rubbing my back as he holds me in place, “shut up, but I am too, but shut up.”

He laughs lightly, music to my ears, “you’re a fuckin champ, though, because—how the fuck are you even standing after that? I thought I was going to have to carry you to the hospital.”

Ashamed isn’t actually even the word for how I feel, it’s deep regret for what I put him through. If there’s any part of him that is mad at me, he is suppressing it very well, so well that I’m not sure he is letting me see it. 

“I don’t know, but even thinking of alcohol makes me sick right now, so I think I’ll be hanging in the kitchen, playing the bartender.”

Alex grins at me widely again, his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip, before he admits, “it’s a shame, truly, that our time together was so limited. We didn’t even get to the good part.”

“Which was?”

“I don’t know, like we could’ve snuck to the pool. That would’ve been fuckin’ sick—sorry, I do apologize for my choice of words right there,” he shrugs, emphasising the word ‘sick’.

“Shut up or I’ll be sick on you the next time, whatever, goodbye,” I turn on my heel and walk inside, pretending to be annoyed and it didn’t take long that I heard him on my tail, following me inside.

“Next time?” he asks behind me, tickling my sides, “there will be a next time?”

I don’t need to look at him to know his eyebrows are quirked and that he’s wearing that stupid smirk again. It’s truly his favourite accessory whenever he’s around me, especially today when he has something new to tease me about. My head is hanging down as I’m trying to hide the smile creeping across my face from everyone passing by. They would never understand, when I can hardly understand how he makes me feel.

I kind of did take on a role of the bartender in the kitchen. You know, serving everyone who swings by whatever drinks they are looking for. Alex grabbed a seat and came to sit right by me, like I’m the only interesting thing here, or in the whole wide world.

“Sorry I forgot to bring your hoodie,” I blurt out. Better to get on with these apologies, there’s a long list to go.

It was his turn to roll his eyes, those eyes that held such care for me last night, “listen, that’s—it’s yours now. If you’re gonna give it back to me, I’m just gonna give it to you, you know that?”

Because friends totally keep each other’s clothes, right?

It’s like he could tell there was a lot on my mind as if he wanted to do something about it, “listen. Stop apologising or thinking you did something wrong last night and shit. I mean, I didn’t think either that you would find yourself in my arms, literally, but shit happens. Just let it go.”

“You know I was only there in your arms, because I quite literally passed out?”

“Yeah, sure,” he just grinned at me, like he wanted to believe that’s the real truth, “you seemed more awake when we… hugged and shit. Cuddled, even. It’s all good, I liked it too.”

I groan and cover my ears. So embarrassing.

I serve a few drinks to people, not exchanging a word or even a look with anyone else other than Alex. He is what matters.

“Wait, you have Snapchat? You should add me,” he leans back in his seat like he’s here for the long haul, already pulling out his phone.

“Ugh, really? You’re one of those guys?” I hate that stuff, I don’t really see the appeal and I don’t know if it would make any difference to what we do now, but for him, sure, I guess?

“Hey!” he straightens up looking up at me, extending his hand for my phone, “it’s a great fuckin’ app, okay? You just boom, boom, pow, and everyone knows what you’re doing.”

I give it to him without further complaints, expect for, “I don’t need everyone to know what I’m doing.”

“No, no. Just me,” he smiles smugly, softly brushing his hand against mine. I don’t know he meant to do it, but if not, then he’s real damn good at pretending and these happy accidents. 

While I was handing out drinks, he is doing God knows what on my phone. There’s not a single word exchanged when he seems to look interested in whatever he’s finding there and I’m not bothered to intervene, just enjoying his company in all its forms, until he talks again, “yo, what the fuck is this? This don’t even look like you.”

He flashes my Bitmoji on the screen, just enough for me to get a glimpse of it. Yeah, I know, I really don’t care about that stuff or if it looks like me. I have never felt bothered to change it or customize it, so sue me.

“Oh, really?” I challenge him.

“Yeah, I could make that amazing, like—you’ll see. You’ve never looked better.”

Before he could get any more heated over this dumb debate, I agree and let him work his magic on my phone again. Meanwhile I try to steal glances at him of sitting with his head low, leaning on his knees. He’s so chill it almost gives me chills. I can’t believe we made it through what happened last night, or did we?

I let him mess with my phone while dealing with more drunk people looking for more drinks. I gave them what they wanted. Ugh, they’re gonna feel like hell tomorrow. After last night, I can’t look at drunk people the same way, sorry.

“There,” he slams the phone back on my hand.

I raise it up to my eyes, “what the hell?”

He had made me look absolutely ridiculous and freaky. This, if anything, does not look like me. Well, as long as he has fun.

“Thanks for making sure no one will ever talk to me again,” I tuck my phone deep in my pocket.

“They shouldn’t, you’re right. I think I should be the only one,” he lays his eyes on me again, raising his eyebrows challengingly and crossing his arms across his chest.

For an hour, he sat there with me, like the time had stopped for us and there was no hurry to be anywhere else. I understood a little bit better why many feel drawn to Alex, and how it’s his commentary on things that is rather entertaining. I just want to hear him talk and joke more. I noticed he had rolled his sleeves up at one point and now his other sleeve had fallen down due to his dramatic hand gestures. It was kind of adorable.

“I’m definitely not drinking ever again. I’m so glad I’m not one of these people here, they will feel like hell tomorrow,” I tell him after watching another drunken person stumble out of the kitchen, leaving the two of us alone again.

He suddenly seems concerned, a total shift in his mood, “are you sure you’re okay? Did you even throw up last night? Like, you know, you need to get that shit out of your system.”

I bury my head in my hands, “I don’t know, I don’t remember anything after I was put in that car. What was up with that though? Who drove me home? Whoever it was, I just want to tell them that I’m sorry for being such an idiot.”

He hurries to my comfort, “it’s okay! You don’t remember? I got my friend to pick us up, he drove you home and then drove me back to the house.”

“You were there, in the car? Why?” I was surprised. He didn’t have anywhere to go, since he was already home, so why would he be there?

“Holy shit, you really don’t remember a thing,” he tries to contain his laughter, “of course I had to be there with you, I mean, not to spark some memories, but you were quite literally all over the place and I feel like it was my duty to get you home, so I came along, which by the way turned out to be the right thing to do, since you kept passing out and leaning on me.”

I did? And he was there for me the whole car ride? Ignorance is bliss, but I wonder what made him do it. Was it his head or heart that made that decision? Is he hiding something to be considerate of me or is there something he is not telling me? I would do the same for him, though, but I’ll never tell him that, since we all have something to hide here.

“Oh God,” I groan in shame, “yeah, I don’t remember how I got home from the car, but I don’t think I want to even know. I know it will be embarrassing as hell.”

He seals his lips with his pointer finger, “okay, okay. I’m not telling you, unless you absolutely demand me to, but let’s just say that you were clinging on to me when I was walking you to the door like—”

“Stop!” I cover my face with my hands. This is so bad for me. I will never, ever hear the end of this. 

Well, that was until our night came to an end when he told me he has to get going, since he had promised to stream later tonight. Safe to say I was disappointed, but duty calls for all of us sometimes and I can’t do anything to stop it. 

I didn’t let him leave until I told him, “I can’t wait for the day when this will all be forgotten and we can go back to normal. I am so, so embarrassed.”

“You’re asking me to forget how it felt to have you all over me? You’re driving a hard bargain, I’m not sure I can do that,” he grins mischievously and reaches for my arms as I walk him to the door. This is hopeless, he is being impossible. Impossibly… flirty?

Hhe closes the distance between us to capture me in a quick embrace, wishing me a safe rest of the night, and then he is gone, vanishing into the night too soon for my liking like a figment of my imagination. For a second I really think if this is all just a really good book that we live in. He’s too good to be true sometimes and that’s what scares me. I think it’s safe to say I am free to move on from last night and that we are in the clear. 

I had to really comb the whole living room in the hope of finding my friend, to tell them I’m out of here for good. Now that Alex’s gone, I feel like this place is dead and I have already overtimed my stay. I made my way through the dancing bodies, bumping into a few.

“Hey, who are you? Where did a beautiful thing like you come from?” says someone behind me. I know they’re talking to me, because I can feel them trying to grab my arm to slow me down. Not to my surprise, when I make them the favour of turning around, I see a guy I have never seen before. He wasn’t too drunk to function or to know what he’s doing, but definitely has more than a few drinks down.

“Uh…” I stutter, “I was just about to leave.”

He groans, “nooo, c’mon, stay! I’ll get you a drink if you stay and—”

“I don’t drink tonight, actually. I still have a killer hangover from last night, so I just came to say hello to a friend here,” I tell him firmly before he can finish that sentence. I don’t need to hear it, because my mind can’t be changed. 

He seems taken aback and puts some space between us like someone will charge at him if he gets one more move wrong, “okay, I hear you, I respect that.”

Thank God. I smile in hopes that he lets me go on my merry way, until he tugs on me again, “hey, you’re not interested at all? Like, can I get your number at least? I swear I’m not a creep, but you’re really, really beautiful, and I’d like to know you. That’s all.”

He raises his hands up in surrender as to prove his innocence to me and I internally want to roll my eyes. I thought he might have been cool and all and and then he raises a red flag. Nothing good ever starts with what he said, ‘I’m not a creep, but…’. He seems harmless, even a little nervous to be talking to me, which almost makes me feel flattered. Almost. He is innocent until proven guilty. Hope it’s not a dead-end case.

Before I can pick him apart any more in my head, I agree to his deal and he seems to notably cheer up, “awesome. Thanks for giving a guy like me a chance, it’s not every day I get this lucky.”

Save those compliments for the date, I’ve already said yes, I thought. That said ‘date’ though, all I’m saying is that I won’t be mad if it never happens. I’m not particularly excited to possibly see him again, but I rather take the risk than the regret of what could’ve been.

I just smile again when we quickly exchange numbers, and then I leave. It’s unlucky I can’t see my friend anywhere, so I just text them on my way out that I’m leaving. They wish me good night. I

.

Ever since that weekend, I felt the universe shift again for me. I know I say that a lot, but something really changed between me and Alex, like someone had wiped our slates clean and tied our souls together into a pretty bow. Or maybe it was because of that damned Snapchat, he definitely has used it to his advantage and sent me stuff all day and night, telling me where he’s going or what’s he doing, like he wants me to know his every move. Whatever it is that we’re doing, I kind of don’t want it to stop. I want to hear more from him, see more of him, and if this helps the case, then so be it. I want to give this my best.

Work has been okay, actually more than okay, now that I finally know him the way I have wanted. Sometimes he calls me while I’m working and we go over some bits together and laugh about them, or he tells me about the game he has been playing lately and I try hard not to get distracted. If I’m having a tough day, he always manages to put me back together. It was not so long ago when I still felt like walking on eggshells around him, like I was desperately just trying hard to make a good impression on him, but now we ask all the deep questions and keep each other up all night talking about anything and everything. It’s weird how fast things have fallen into place with him.

Just like today, when I finished work and was almost expecting him to blow up my phone again for no particular reason. I actually can’t wait to hear from him. My phone did eventually ping to alert a text, but my smile fell when I saw it wasn’t a text from him, but from a number I don’t recognise nor have saved;

“Hey. Still up for that date, I hope? How about tomorrow?” 5:32 PM

A date? With who?

“I’m so sorry, who is this?” 5:34 PM

“It’s me from the party! You didn’t drink back then, but I wondered if you’d like to go out, I mean you did say yes after all. Unless something came up?” 5:35 PM

Oh, it’s him, from my friend’s house party. Tomorrow is Saturday after all, if it happens it will happen tomorrow. I don’t know if I exactly feel like wasting a perfectly good Saturday night on him when there’s endless potential for it, but I guess one date won’t hurt, so I tell him;

“Oh sure, tomorrow is fine. Text me the time and place?” 5:38 PM

“Great, there’s this restaurant I think you’d like, I’ll text you the address. How about at 7PM?” 5:39 PM

How does he think he knows me already? I’m just going to go along and hope for the best, whatever the best here is. 

“Sounds good to me!” 5:40 PM

.

It was 6.15 PM when I left the house the next day for this so-called-date. He had kindly offered to pick me up, but I told him I’d rather meet him there. 

The restaurant looked promising, at least on the outside. I don’t even remember the last time I went out to eat, now that I think of it. I definitely didn’t in a million years think my next time would be with someone I barely know, an actual date. He didn’t seem to care too much about the finer things, so I’m surprised this is the kind of place he decided to choose for us tonight, but I appreciate the effort. I’m lucky if I even remember what he looks like and if we find each other in this parking lot. 

I was there, leaning against the wall and looking around, until I saw a silhouette of someone I think I recognise getting out of a car. I’m pretty sure it’s him and he confirmed my suspicion by smiling at the sight of me and waving, making his way over.

“Hello there,” he greeted me politely, “let’s get inside and see what this place is all about, shall we?”

I nodded and let him lead the way. How bad could this be?

It was a few steps to the door that opened up a bustling, dim space for our eyes. I could barely make out what he was telling me, but I figured it was something about finding our table. I just nodded and went along with him as we walked further inside.

“How did we, or you, manage to get this table tonight?” I asked him when he found an empty booth and we made ourselves comfortable in it. I mean, this place is packed and if I saw correctly, there was a small queue outside that we were able to just waltz past.

“Well,” he blushed a little under the yellow light, coming from the lamp hanging above our table “I booked this for us on the same night when you gave me your number. I’m sorry—I probably went ahead of things a little, but I couldn’t let this opportunity go.”

“Oh, that’s fine.”

At least he’s honest.

“Okay,” he smiled at me as if relieved, “good.”

A waitress came by to get our drink orders first. I decided to settle for one glass, he did too, and then we fell into small talk.

“So, what is it about you? Why are you ‘you’?” he questioned me.

Well, that’s one way to ask for my story.

I cleared my throat and thought about how much do I exactly want to share, before telling him about my studies. That’s always a good place to start, right? He kept nodding while listening to me, occasionally letting out approving sounds. Not that his opinion on what I should do or should’ve done matters too much. I asked him the same question in return, and that’s when he went into great detail about his life. Wow, I would’ve never guessed he’s so... educated and wealthy. A guy like him just doesn’t look like someone that walks around with such riches and glories like it’s nothing. Guess I could have not been more wrong about him.

If Alex was here, he would definitely crack more jokes and never make me feel less than I am—stop! Why am I thinking of him right now?

He kept rambling, not stopping even for a second when our drinks and food got placed down in front of us and we dug in, “I don’t want to brag, but I could change your life too if you gave me a chance. I have everything anyone could ever want and you look like you could use some of that.” 

I wanted to roll my eyes, because that’s exactly what he’s doing this whole time; bragging. It’s not the lifestyle I’m interested in nor do I need it from him. I suddenly feel very content with the simple life I have, I don’t need any of those things that he’s trying to force on me. 

As I was sipping from my glass, I could already imagine if Alex was here, how he would definitely steal some food from my plate and then act offended when I call him out for it and how we would make fun of pretentious people like my date. On the other hand, I need to stop thinking about him so much and stop looking at life through him and manage on my own for once.

We chat more between bites and gulps, mostly about him or the more serious stuff and the future, things that I didn’t really feel the want to discuss on a Saturday night or if ever, especially on a first date. I mean, we’re so young, what’s the rush planning the rest of our lives right this second?

I let out a few forced laughs here and there at his stories about his trips around the world, laughs that I never had to force with Alex. I felt almost ill at one point, like my gut was telling me something and I wasn’t listening. It didn’t get any better when he fell deeper and deeper into the same cycle of boasting himself and convincing me that he’s the greatest I will ever find. I think he should just date himself at this point.

He eventually slows down, “that was something, wasn’t it? Are you impressed, you don’t look impressed? What about you? What do you think you want to do?”

“Um,” I gulp, “I don’t know.”

“Hm,” he thinks out loud, “you could do so much more than you do right now. I’m not saying you could be as good as I am, these kind of things only happens to the few. I’m just the lucky one, but I think it would be good for you to give me a chance. You don’t need to be miserable for the rest of your live, when you could be happy with me.”

Oh God, I just want this to stop. How would he know what’s good for me and that I’m miserable with how life is going for me when in fact I am not? I mean, I am absolutely miserable right now here with him, but as soon as I get out of here I’ll be the happiest I have ever been and will go on living my perfect life that he won’t ever see. It’s perfect because it’s all mine and no-one else’s.

I nod just to get him to shut up, but as soon as I think it’s over, he looks like he’s eager and ready to delve into another story about himself. I sit there finishing up my food, occasionally listening to him, occasionally shamelessly thinking about Alex again. It’s a scary thought, how attached I feel to Alex all of a sudden. Maybe it’s moments like this, when I realise how good he is to me, so if nothing, at least this date gives me some new perspective on him and how he is the only beautiful thing in this ugly world. I can’t believe there ever was a me without him. 

We finish our plates just as he comes to an end on his story. I wonder if he timed that somehow and hope he doesn’t see through my facade and figure it out that I wasn’t paying much attention.

To my luck, he’s just all smiles, “thanks for listening. Now I guess it’s all up to you how you feel.”

Yeah, I’m not feeling much of anything.

He pays for us, at least he is a gentleman, and then we get up. I’m the one leading us outside this time. We stand there in the dark parking lot and he asks me if I need a ride home. I hastily lie again and tell him that I have a friend to pick me up, you know, any excuse just to walk away alone.

He seems to believe it and asks me instead, “so, will I see you again?”

Now’s the time for me to be honest. I shake my head, “sorry, I don’t think so,” and leave swiftly, but not without shooting him a sorry look. I don’t know exactly what I’m sorry for, I’m sorry for myself if anything. Almost everything he said tonight was uncalled for, I deserve something better.

As I make it far enough to not to be in his sight anymore, I fish my phone out of my pocket. It’s only 9:35 PM, I see. 

Before I can exactly control myself, I dial Alex’s number.

“Too drunk again?” he picks up, a taunting smirk evident in his voice.

Oh, how lovely it is to hear his voice, and just like that, he immediately makes me want to laugh the realest I have laughed the entire night. All it takes is really nothing from him to make me feel like this. It’s so easy for him to make me happy.

“Ugh, yeah,” I pretend to slur, “I went on this crappy date and drank for my misery the whole time.”

“You did?” he asks, sounding surprised, “I mean—what’s the truth? Did you really?”

“Yeah, I actually did.”

“No fuckin’ way,” his breath hitches for a second, “with who? You don’t know anyone.”

I laughed again, because he genuinely sounds like it’s news to him that I actually can go out and hang out with someone else other than him, “so you’d think, because I’m pretty sure I was just sitting at a restaurant with this guy, who, by the way, was—”

He rushes to interrupt me before he hears too much, “okay, okay! I get it, fuck. What the fuck—is this why you’ve been so quiet today?”

He’s right, we have not talked much today but I didn’t think it would concern him much, but now he makes it sounds like I should be behind bars for neglecting him for a day.

“Calm down, bucko. I didn’t even get to the good part, which is that I’m not interested in him and hope I never see him again.”

“Huh,” he exhales, “that bad?”

“Yeah… not the worst, but I didn’t have the best time either.”

“What happened? Why was he an asshole?” he inquired, almost defensively.

“Okay, imagine someone rich and successful—”

“Yeah, me,” he interrupts me again.

I shushed him through my giggles, “—and they just make it about themselves the whole time, like you didn’t have to come all this way just to tell me that you think you’re better than me.”

He groans in response, “yeah, definitely an asshole. What the fuck were you even doing there?”

“Well, I thought it’d be fun, you know, as you usually expect from dates, but it’s not every time you get lucky, I guess.”

“Yeah, that’s why there’s only one of me,” he states.

I laughed again, “right. But, I’m definitely over it, so you don’t need to worry your little mind. The only thing you need to worry about is when will I see you again before the next date candidate comes along and steals me away again.”

“As you should, as you fuckin’ should be over it. That shit doesn’t sound like worth anyone’s time, especially not yours. I’ll see you next Friday, it’s settled, alright?”

This made me feel a whole lot better, I can’t lie. He’s so easy to be happy around, he doesn’t try too hard to be funny and that’s what makes him funny. I think he’s one of those people who I could list good things about for days. One of those people who constantly celebrates you like it’s your birthday every day. Someone who knows what you need before you know it yourself.

“I love how you know exactly what I need and want and how I should spend my time,” I tease him. What if he is that someone?

“I do. I have something for you that will surely make you feel better, wait.”

“Okay...” I will wait. I have no idea what he could have up his sleeve now, but I think I will be pleasantly surprised, like I always am with him.

All I hear next is rustling and him murmuring to himself as if setting up something or moving something heavy. It went on for a minute, before I heard him loud and clear again and what sounded like him placing the phone down, “so, I have this piano, I don’t know if you knew but… I haven’t played it in a long fuckin’ time anyway.”

I didn’t know that. I don’t know what it has to do with anything, but I will trust the process.

He starts playing and talking in a voice so obnoxious that it makes me cringe for a second, “if you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can't you see? You belong with me—I'm in the room—in my room, I don’t know—it's a typical Tuesday night—a Saturday night, actually—I’m listening to the kind of music he doesn't like, and he'll never know your story like I do—something like that.”

I don’t know what is going on here, I mean it’s pretty obvious that he’s trying to lift my spirits that were stomped to the ground, but where is this coming from? All jokes aside, he’s pretty good at playing, but of course I don’t dare to tell him. Even if this is not genuine, I’m not mad about it, at least it’s something to laugh about, but if he’s this good when he’s not even being serious, I wonder how good he could be when he wants to be good. 

When he decides he’s done, it’s silent until I speak. He seems to be amused by how I’m struggling to make sense of this and laughs loudly, still playing random keys in the background, “yeah, that’s a good fuckin’ song, okay? It’s just straight up disrespectful if it doesn’t make you feel better. Like, I’m sorry I can’t write that shit myself, but I’m still here trying to make the most of it for you.”

For the rest of my way home we talk about nonsense and laugh, it’s what we do best. I try my best to keep good company, even though I’m not able to get back my mind that I had lost on him earlier and I hope for the best that it’s not too obvious that my mind is somewhere else, literally. Will I ever know the truth behind what he did, did he really mean it? Whatever the truth is; will it hurt, is it going to be worth knowing?

After we hang up the phone, I stare at the screen like it would tell me all the answers. That was one hell of a night.

.

He seemed to be completely oblivious to everything the following weeks. Work was as usual, except that it almost had became a ritual for us to see each other every Friday night. It felt dangerous, like I could finally live instead of just exist, it was living between existing. I lived in ways I had never before and no one knew, no one but me and him, but I liked it like that. We would hang out at his place most of the time, I would keep him company and he would keep all of my secrets. His place felt like a hideaway from the real world, most of the time I even forgot there was a real world out there, it felt like it was just us two. We spent time talking about anything and killed time doing much of nothing when there was nothing to talk about. Nonetheless, all time spent with him was time well spent.

As I was on my way to his place one Friday night, I had a different feeling about it as I typically do. Last week had been busy, maybe it was the stress catching up to me.  I made it to his door, knocking, waiting until he appeared behind it, looking a bit disheveled. We greeted each other and he let me in.

I was touching up in the front of the bathroom mirror when he barged in, “I was thinking—“

I looked at him through the reflection, silently asking him to keep going. 

“—we could go down to the pool now. I can see it from the window, there’s literally no one in there right now.”

“We can?” I asked in surprise. I mean, I’m really not surprised about it being empty, it is almost 9 PM, but I for sure would think that it’s closed at this hour. Isn’t that what he has told me before, when his friends were here too and we asked to go there but he said no, because it closes for the night? 

“Yeah!” he cheered, “why not? It’s always open for residents. I know I might’ve said last time that it’s closed at nights, but it’s technically not. I just wanted to—I don’t know—be there with you, not them.”

I’m not sure what he means by wanting to exclude the others, or why he suddenly seems hesitant to even look at me, or why he sounds like his guard is down and he struggled to say those words out loud, but I shrug it off. 

“Okay,” I agree, “but I wasn’t exactly prepared for this, I didn’t bring anything.”

If I would’ve known this was on the agenda for tonight, I could have been more prepared, but he is so full of surprises and spontaneousness that I shouldn’t be surprised. One of the many things I have learnt about him so far, I wonder if I will learn more tonight at the pool.

“No, no,” he waved me off, “I got it all.”

He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle, “I have this left from… that night. Is this okay? Just something chill.”

I agree to it, knowing exactly the night he means. He has learned not to poke anymore holes into my remorse than I already have. It’s something we just have moved past.

I watch as he runs around grabbing the keys and the bottle and also two glasses from the cupboard, and then we’re off.

The air at the pool almost stood still, it was so quiet and calm. The moon hit the surface of the water right, making it illuminate before our eyes. I pried my eyes off of it just to see the stunning night sky above us. I suddenly felt small in this world and overwhelmed by how that sky is black, apart from the hundreds of stars, but I’m only seeing colours when I’m here with him. There’s so much beauty in this world that I will never get to see all of it, but this moment makes up for it; the way the universe is kind enough to always stay beautiful to make moments like this more beautiful. Or maybe I just fell for him and got a concussion that’s making me see stars and colours. One or the other. 

We sit down on the side of the pool, making ourselves comfortable. He pops the bottle open and pours us both a full glass.

“This is nice. If I could I’d be here every night,” I broke the comfortable silence. ‘Nice’ is definitely an understatement, but I don’t want to overwhelm him like I’m overwhelming myself.

He grinned and swirled his glass, “well, who says you can’t?”

“You, realistically.” 

He looked surprised as he gulped down some, “the fuck? You can come over here anytime you want, okay? You know that?”

“Yeah, I know.”

There’s never a point in arguing with him when it comes to… well, me. Like how he always wants me around and if I can’t be there with him, he always makes sure I know I’m at least on his mind by blowing up my phone, asking me how am I. Yeah, I told you; we’ve come far from where we started. 

We had a few glasses and talked, a lot. The night got darker as we got lost in endless conversations. I usually forget a lot of things, but I’ll never forget this night, I’m sure of that. It’s the way our minds and words merge together like missing parts, creating an entirety of mutual understanding that only makes sense to us.

As he eventually laid down on the concrete to relax himself and I decided to join him, the view of the luminous sky was undeniably impeccable from this angle. I could still hear the soft sounds of the pool too, the sound of the water gently splashing against the walls, that made me want to close my eyes. There are so many things to be happy about right now, but I’m thinking; what is it that we’re doing here? Are we crossing lines or are we just friendly? Why am I here every Friday night if it’s all innocent? Do I even want to feel like that about someone? Everything is good as it is, so why ruin a good thing like I’m doing right now. But if it’s not him in the end, then who?

I think I’m going through the melancholy you get in this position, when it’s late at night and you think too hard about the world and you get a bit sad and apprehensive about everything. 

“The same person that’s destined for you or cares for you or will become your everything someday could be looking at the same moon right now. Isn’t that insane?” I don’t even know what I said that, I didn’t mean to get so sentimental. I still don’t seem to know how deep is too deep.

He sounded tense, “it is, yeah.”

It didn’t sound like him at all. Where’s the laughs and the jokes that are more like him? I was almost expecting him to laugh at me and call me out for being too philosophical for his liking, but he didn’t. It made me nervous.

I turn to look at him as he seems to turn away. It gives me no answers. I think the silence is the loudest and clearest answer here. I’m not sure what happened in the span of these few minutes and why are we now acting like we don’t know each other at all? 

When he finally turns to me, I see a look on his face that I have never seen before. He looks almost emotionless. I know he knows this is getting weird and I don’t know anymore who’s to blame, I fear it’s me. There has never been a better time for him to quiet my fears than right now. I just wish he would.

Is this the moment for the inevitable hurt when something goes awfully wrong? Whatever it is, whatever will come out of his mouth next, will change something, change us. I’m sure of it.

“Can I ask you something?” he finally stutters. It’s so quiet I can barely hear it. I wonder how loud it must be in his mind.

“Yeah, anything.”

He laughed sadly, “yeah, anything but what I’m about to ask you.”

It can’t be that bad, can it?

“What is it?” I urge him to tell me.

He abruptly sits up, looking afraid of God knows what, his head slumped, looking very stiff and uncomfortable in his own skin. He has never been the one to run when the heat turns up and it scares me how much he looks like he’s just planning his escape from this situation right now. I want to be there for him so bad, to reassure him that everything is okay, but I settle for silence. I’m not sure what to say to him when he’s acting like this, it’s my first time hanging out with this side of him. So we just sit there, I’m literally counting the seconds, because I don’t know what else to do with my thoughts nor how to sort them.

He finally gets it together and sits up straight, “sorry—can I kiss you?”

Is that really what he wants? Does he know this could make us or break us? One move wrong and we fall apart. But, why do I want to say yes? I thank the lucky stars that it’s dark here, so he can’t completely see my face, I know I look as dumbfounded as I feel. I felt a rush of energy, I’m not sure what kind of energy it is yet.

“Yes,” I slyly give him my verbal consent and sit up.

“Holy shit, yes—really?” he slurred, almost as if he was drunk on this. 

When I nodded to confirm his question, it didn’t take him long at all to slot our lips together confidently, like he has thought this over before. I wonder if he has. I’d like to find it in me to ask him some time, but for now now our mouths are busy pressing and massaging against each other over and over again.

It felt like a movie with fireworks, like that whole Hollywood blown-way-out-of-proportion magic. I think moments like this, that are like something out of a movie, only happens to you once in your lifetime and I don’t regret one bit spending mine on him. 

Excuse my language, but shit got very real when he wrapped his other arm around me and deepened the kiss. It felt new and breathtaking. I’m pretty sure that he could make all my dreams come true overnight. Maybe that’s my head and the adrenaline running through my veins talking, but if this is already the dream, then I don’t want to wake up ever.

We slowly pull away, so slowly that it feels like for a moment we are one, and it takes a while for him to come back to reality and take his hand off of me. I want to tell him that it’s okay and that he can keep it there, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to talk just yet. My lips feel like they’ve been claimed for more important things, like they should never be used for any other purpose ever again than kissing him. He remained silent too and I wonder if he feels the same. I felt wildly flustered again as I thought about the possibility of me in his thoughts. I was even more flustered when I realised how much I want to do that again, but I’m not sure how much is too much. We’ve already crossed one line, so what’s another one?

He seemed to know it too and make it known that I was there, in every corner and place of his mind, when he looked into my eyes and whispered the only words that matters, “was that okay—did you like it? I liked it.”

“More than okay,” I reassured him, “I liked it so much that I’d like to do it again.”

Relief washed over his face and his eyes gained their usual whimsical twinkle back as he nods and cups the back of my neck and brings his mouth down to mine. It was even better than the first time, as he made me putty in his hands.

“What if it’s me?” he whispers against my lips. 

I pull away and knit my brows, “what?”

He laughs freely, “sorry. You were just going on about that shit about the moon and I was here next to you thinking how much I care for you and I don’t think you know it. Like, I’m right fuckin’ here.”

I’m not sure if my concept of care is the same as his, if he thinks it like I think of it. But, I can’t complain when he’s here pouring his heart out to me after everything.

“I… don’t know what to say, other than I care about you too, a lot. I just didn’t expect to find it in you tonight.“

He quiets down, “it’s okay. We don’t need to talk about it right now. I just wanted you to know that if you can’t find whatever you’re looking for, it’s because you already have it, it’s me.”

And there he goes again, turning into a cocky little tease. 

“Yeah, I’m done talking,” I pretend to roll my eyes.

Big mistake, because he plays along and doesn’t lose the smirk off his face, “are you, now? I’ll spare you talking, if you let me.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

And then, kind of to my surprise, he pulls me in for endless kisses. I don’t know what I expected, but it caught me off guard how brave he is all of a sudden with his words, his hands, his lips, all of it. But, I like it, the confidence. 

In the end he grabs our glasses and the empty bottle and asked if we should go back up since it was getting chilly. I agreed, because it was and I was dressed fairly lightly, no matter how bad I wanted to stay here with him. Those were one of the few words we exchanged as we made our way back upstairs. We left the pool just like we had come, as friends and nothing more, I guess. On the outside we appear normal, you would never guess there is something wrong, but on the inside we both know we had taken some damage. Repairing that would cost us facing things and questions that we are not ready to see just yet. Only time will tell the answers, I think.

He opened the front door and we were immediately engulfed by the warm air. It was dark in the apartment, until he switched on the lights, creating a dim atmosphere for us. I don’t know what is happening next, am I supposed to just go home now? 

“I have another question for you,” he told me in the kitchen, setting our glasses down, “you remember that piano I have? I wanna show you something.”

Oh God, how much more can I take for one night? 

Nonetheless, I nodded, “yeah, sure, but you don’t have to impress me anymore.”

I think he has done enough tonight to show me how he feels. I do regret saying that when I see him grin at me over his shoulder, like he is back to his usual self again that lives for teasing me, “what, like you’re fuckin’ hopelessly in love with me already? This is it, like—you want my last name now or later?”

I try to act as unfazed by his comment as I possibly can as I follow him into his room and then there he is, anxiously messing with his piano, while I just stand and watch. He didn’t have me waiting for too long when he spoke again, “I can do better than the last time you heard me playing this bad boy.” 

I played the memory of him singing to me on the phone back in my mind and laughed. 

“Okay, if you insist,” I told him, leaning back against the wall, letting him do his thing.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “I don’t know what this will make me sound like, but I learned something that I think you will like and appreciate. You will, right?”

“Sure. It sounds like you’re hopelessly in love.”

I should know he is always one step ahead of me and that I can’t win, because he grins again as his eyes shift back to me, “there is hope. You’re still here.”

What is he doing to me?

Instead of more words, he let the music speak for itself and started playing. It didn’t take me long to recognise the song; You Belong With Me. Now, this makes it feel like he’s playing along to whatever joke this is, but as I stand there and watch him, I notice how much more serious he sounds. Of course I don’t dare to look at his face, I’m scared I might see through him, see his heart and soul and subconscious thoughts, see something that will change my mind about us, that maybe he is wishing non-existing things into existence, like us. Maybe this means more to him that I think it does. When I think I have him figured out, I realise I don’t. But I can’t exactly figure out myself either right now.

One thing I think I know for sure right now is that I feel something for him that I haven’t before. It’s when I see him like this, like he’s in his element, like music is the language he has wanted to speak to me all along. This is a total new side of him I have not had the pleasure of seeing before. I wonder if I’m really this special to him that he would do this, do something that most people would consider even romantic. 

And… it’s kind of even attractive how he plays.

“That was nice...”

“Yeah? Just ‘nice’?”

“You know what I mean,” I try to divert my gaze when I feel my face flush.

“Hm, tell me,” he rolls over to me in his chair and looks up at me. So many times I have seen those eyes, but now he stares at me so intensely I can almost see all the worlds and all the lives he has lived before. Maybe I knew him in another life and that’s why things are unfolding like they are right now, everything all at once.

“Fine! I think it was kind of… cute, and… I don’t know where all of that came from, but I think it made me think that maybe you were right. That you do things to me that no one else can.”

Wow, look at me being confident and speaking my mind. Never happens.

“‘Really now?” he smiles smugly, raising his eyebrows, ”fuckin’ finally. And you… you think I was cute too, huh? Just ‘cute?”

I sigh out loud, “fine. It was hot, okay?”

I think I went too far. I think that was too much. Maybe I have had too much to drink again. But no, I do know how I feel. 

His smirk doesn’t falter, and it’s my time to yelp when he suddenly makes the move to pull me on his lap. This is a whole new sensation. And what happened then? We got greedy again with our mouths and hands and each other. Endless sweet touches and kisses, as I stay seated on his lap. It was innocent as we still got used to the feeling of feeling each other this close.

We soon wrap up the night and I decide it’s time for me to go home and I actually couldn’t wait to be alone with my thoughts. I have a lot to think over, or maybe I’ll just fall into daydreams about him and this night instead. Tonight’s moment are going to be the rest of my life’s memories, and I can revisit those memories whenever I want to. He walks me to the door, we don’t really talk about what happened or what will happen next, instead he just settles for pulling me into a hug. His grip on me, that’s tighter than ever before, tells me everything I need to know, that he doesn’t want this to end here.

All he asks me as I’m about to walk out is “will we do this again?”, holding onto my arm, not willing to let me slip away before I can answer his burning question, whatever he means by ‘this’.

I just grin, “maybe.”

I still want to play a little hard to get after all this time, see what his intensions are and if he will keep fighting for me and my time. Now, I don’t actually mean any harm by that and I definitely want this to happen again, I just still feel like I have to preserve some self-respect and not be an easy target. Then I walk off.

.

The following week brings that painful tension between us and all I can think about is if we made a mistake at the pool and if I’m his brand-new regret. I’m trying to keep that thought out of my head, but it’s hard, because when it comes to work and talking with him, there’s so much tension there that I’m just dreading the moment when the heat turns up and it all sets on fire. I don’t know what will be left of us once that happens.

It wasn’t until a few more weeks had passed until it really settled in my chest, this hollow feeling, when something unexpected happens: he starts giving me the silent treatment. Something I never expected him to do, and unfortunately, I’m think I’m partly to blame. The night at the pool made things weird. If I think hard enough back to that night, it almost feels like a movie how he made the first move and unveiled both of ours wants for each other, but it ends as soon as I open my eyes and face the reality where he flipped the script and fleed. He had made me feel like I was flying that night, now I’m flying and getting motion sick.

I try texting him;

“Is everything okay? I need to talk to you.” 9:35 PM

He doesn’t respond. I wonder if he’s sleeping soundly meanwhile I’m staying up all night. 

Eventually I’m so tired I just fall asleep, my phone next to my head.

.

No text from him in the morning, or the morning after that.

I keep trying with a different approach;

“Pretty bored today, what are you up to? Unless you want me to get a head start and work on that stuff today already? Or unless you are up for some chatting :)?” 11:39 AM

To my surprise, he replies, but it’s not the side of him I was hoping would to come to the phone;

“No” 11:52 AM

If I’m not careful, I will get cut by the sharp edges of his tone even when there’s no reason for it. Maybe he doesn’t mean it like that, maybe he’s stressed and unintentionally took it out on me. I read the text again like a chant and wear it like a warning label. I didn’t know it would get to me like this, but I feel like I need to write it on me to warn people like him to watch their temper around me.

I text him one final thing before getting on with my day, even though I have a peculiar feeling he won’t reply;

“Okay. Let me know when you’re free to talk!” 11:55 AM 

I was right, for the rest of the day and night, he’s silent.

.

If I thought one day of his silence was loud, nothing could have prepared me for Alex disappearing from my life for a whole week and then two. He had brought us back to life just to leave like a ghost halfway through the good part of our story. It doesn’t make sense. Reality hurts too bad right now, I wish I could leave like he did. 

It was a text after another that I kept sending him, not even expecting a reply anymore but I still do it;

“Are you ok?” 7:52 PM

I wish I didn’t care so much, but I do. I thought we were getting along just fine, more than fine. That’s why it hurts.

.

My friend does keep me in check from that day on and blows up my phone with happy texts constantly, like they know somehow that I need a friend right now. Those are the only texts I seem to receive these days, so it was a real shocker when one day my phone buzzed with a text from Alex;

“Can we meet? Maybe by the park?” 1:15 PM

Oddly enough, I know the park he means. It’s the one next to where he lives that you can partly see from the living room window, the one I always walk past whenever I’m on my way to his. I think it’s the real oasis of this city, somewhere where the birds never stop singing and it’s always evergreen. I think that will change today. I’m never going to see that park in the same light again. I hope I’m wrong.

I throw on some clothes and then I’m out the door.

When I arrive at the park, he’s already there. Whatever it is that he wants to tell me, he must want to get it over with fast. When he looks like he doesn’t even want to look at me, I look at the sky and wish there’s an alternate universe somewhere up there where this is not happening, where everything is still okay.

I sit there next to him, nearly not as close as I used to would. The park looks ethereal as always, especially on a summer day like this it’s like a paradise, but you know what they say; even the sun sets in paradise. 

He sits there next to me in heavy silence, before taking a deep breath and telling me with his head in his hands, “listen, this whole thing—I’ve had fun, but…”

I’m just waiting for him to say it, that this was all a mistake.

He finally continues, “I’m just thinking about shit and turning shit over in my head. I like what has happened so far, but there’s just no dating—or being with someone like you. It’s so much more complicated than that.”

He said the d-word. Fuck. He’s braver than me. 

I don’t dare to interrupt when he keeps going, “I mean, you’re amazing, but it’s like—that’s the thing; you deserve someone that’s sure of what they want and don’t leave you hanging. For me, it’s like, I date or I don’t; I don’t do anything in between. And right now, I’m not sure what I want. You with me?”

He checks in with me and I just nod. I think I understand and I think I’m the same. Neither of us are cut out for casual dating, it has to be the real thing or nothing. And making the decision if we are ready for the real thing, I don’t know if we, or I, can make that decision right now after all. He also keeps dropping this d-word like it’s nothing. I guess this is the calm before the storm. 

“And—yeah, there’s not just dating, or committing to someone like you. People like you are so deserving of things I’m not sure I can give you. Maybe that’s just my insecurities talking, but I mean this as wholeheartedly as I can and hope you remember it. You deserve someone who deserves you, as simple as that, and I don’t know if I do right now, or ever.”

Wow, he really dug to the bottom of his feelings and found some gold there, and even shared some of it with me. 

I finally find my voice and some words to make sense of it all, “that’s—I’m very glad you told me that. I agree, there’s no telling who really deserves something the most, but I know you deserve good things too and I feel… very overwhelmed, but happy to know you see me as one of those. No matter what happens next, I think things have already changed between us, and maybe that means that the worst part is over, but I guess all we can do is keep going like before and see where we end up?”

He nods and croaks out, “yeah. That would be great. I need to get my own shit together first, like I don’t wanna be one of those fuckin’ people when I say this, but it’s not you. It’s me. I just want to be the best for you, but for now, I can only be your friend. Just like before.”

I’m glad we had this conversation after all, but still feel a little pang in my chest when we agree on staying like we were before, like there is no promise or guarantee we will ever make it as anything more. It’s better than nothing though. Now we just need time. Time for if nothing else, the sun setting in our paradise. 

.

There’s nothing that time and sleep can’t fix. Just a few days ago when I had the talk with Alex, I felt almost explosive, like if someone would have said the wrong things or made me upset in any way, I would have just exploded and spilled my feelings all over the place. There was more for me to process that I was able to take, but now I feel fine. We had a mature conversation, and I have a clearer vision of his feelings now. No more second guessing or doubting, or getting mad over literally nothing.

Work feels fine again, because at least that awkward tension is mostly gone, but we don’t talk as freely as we used to. That’s what happens when you’re not careful and spill your cup of romance all over your work.

I still nevertheless happily tell my friend about it over coffee. I didn’t mean to talk about it right there, in broad daylight, in a crowded cafe, but I did.

“So,” I tell them, “we did make up—I mean, there was no bad blood to begin with. I was just being dramatic, like you told me.”

��Yeahhh, I told you! I knew it,” they rolled their eyes at me from across the table, “no need to get all fired up if someone just—what did he tell you? Why did he do it? He was just busy, or?”

“Yeah, pretty much. He was just... busy. Yeah,” I have never sounded more shady. 

I know I still can’t blow my cover. This thing will be kept tightly under wraps until it feels right to discuss it with other people. I’m also that good of a person that I want his approval to share anything.

As I feared, my friend doubts me, “really? Is that really all? What are you not telling me?”

Digging a deeper hole for myself, I stutter, “yep! I just—I was really expecting there to be something, so I was just surprised that—you know, it wasn’t something I did. You know me, I’m paranoid like that, I don’t exactly like that about myself either.”

I was hoping this conversation would shift to something else, like my insecurities, literally anything else than this. A part of me feels bad for the lies I keep feeding them, but I know I’m doing this for the right reasons.

They squinted their eyes at me, “that’s weird, you’re being weird. I know you and I know you’re being weird like now. Since when we don’t tell each other everything?”

I don’t like how sad they sound all of a sudden.

“I am telling you everything, as always,” I try to comfort them, “it’s just weird for me to talk about him, because you know—he’s him. I just still feel weird about it that I get to know him like this.”

That seemed to ease their mind, as I witnessed a slight smile creep back into their face, “okay, okay, I believe you.”

.

As summer starts nearing its’ end, I feel like it’s also the end of other things too. Like the thing between me and Alex. We haven’t really hung out or even talked, and on top of that, I heard the news that it’s safe to travel again and that he’s going back home to Mexico for at least the rest of the summer, maybe even for longer. He didn’t tell me how long he will be gone for, but I know how his tone works and that there was something he didn’t tell me. Meanwhile I knew I will miss him terribly, but didn’t dare to tell him that either, considering the circumstances.

And so, he leaves in silence and I let him. I get to keep my job and talk to him about work matters, but anything other than that, nothing.

I miss him bad and fear that by the time he comes back there is going to be nothing left of us. He lives in a whole new world now, or that’s what it feels like. It feels like he is lightyears away.

.

“So, what do you want to do on Saturday?” my friend asks me as we pick out what to eat from the menu.

“Why?”

“Your birthday, dummy! You forgot your own birthday?”

“Of course I didn’t,” I scoff back.

They just sip their drink and devilishly smirk at me from behind the glass, “sure. Anyway, we could go shopping for some props, since we’re here at the mall. Do you know who’s coming yet?”

I scratch my head, “not really.”

Truthfully, there’s only one person I hope to see there, but it will not happen since he’s not here. I wonder what he is doing right now, wherever he is.

.

It’s the weekend, — and more importantly, it’s my birthday today— , but I’m just feeling blue. I’m throwing a party tonight and invited all of my friends that are in town, and in conclusion, they are coming over any minute now and I need to feel better ASAP before I become a buzzkill. I could lie and tell to myself that I don’t know the reason behind my heavy heart, but I know. Me and Alex haven’t really talked lately. I doubt he even knows it’s my birthday, or if he knows I wonder if he cares. It just sucks things have went south between us.

Soon my friends are walking in through the door one by one, holding small gifts or flowers and hugging me, wishing me a happy birthday. They don’t know that the best gift would be if Alex was here, as ungrateful as that sounds. The music is blasting through the speakers, but it’s not as loud as the thoughts in my head. This is going to be a long, miserable night if I don’t get it together.

We take a bunch pictures to post online and show everyone how much fun we are having. For me, it all feels like a facade. That’s how social media usually makes me feel, but now it feels like a whole cliché how I’m acting all happy, but inside I’m in shreds. If things were any different, would Alex be here right now? Possibly. That breaks my heart. 

The night goes on and I keep discreetly checking the door and my phone every now and then. I still don’t seem to understand that he won’t be here. One day he maybe will, if I don’t overthink myself to death by then.

We poured more drinks and even set up a little party game section in the living room, moving the furniture for more space to move and dance around. The more fun we had, the more ungrateful I felt for wanting more from this night, because at least I have my real friends right here with me. How could I ever wish for more? Who else could I count on if not them? I might feel lonely without Alex, but I would be lost if it wasn’t for the people here. There’s a difference and that tells me everything I need to know.

I can definitely have fun tonight. I can stop holding out my hand for someone who has no intention of taking it if I want to.

I poured myself another drink and to make up for my lack of gratitude so far, I went to turn the music up and got cheers from everyone as response. I do miss him, but I know now it will pass.

.

It was fine until it got to the point of the night when I have had enough to drink to start to feel emotional or sentimental or both and cursing myself for it. A moment when I just want to text someone something risky, especially Alex. It’s a stupid idea, a bad idea even, and just not worth it for me to be so forward on the phone now and then later flinch at the silence he will give me in return.

I still do the bad thing. I go to the bathroom and before I step out again, I type a quick text to him,

“I wish you could be for my birthday tonight :( It’s fun, but would be more fun with you here. 10:55 PM

Now I feel stupid as I stand and watch the text being delivered to him, knowing it’s too late to undo the damage. Way to make him feel guilty for not being here and making a fool out of myself in the process too. I know I’m better than this and I don’t like the sides he’s seeing of me right now.

I exit the bathroom and my friends tell me we should move this party to a bar. I agree, I have neighbours after all and it’s now past 11 PM, meaning we have to quiet down. And so the music stops and tables are being cleared and the lights are being switched off as we leave, but the night is not over for us yet. 

It’s a struggle for us to get a ride this late on a weekend, but we eventually manage to get a cab.

As we all finally squeeze in the car, I check my phone. My heart unpleasantly makes a drop to the pit of my stomach like I was on a roller coaster of life when I see a text from Alex;

“Happy Birthday” and a stupid meme attached to it that immediately makes me smile. 

It’s just like the old times happening all over again, like someone rewinded the story of us, when we were able to joke around like this with each other. It feels nice to do it again. Maybe I can finally take my heart down from the shelf I had reserved for him and accept that there is just friendship after everything we’ve been through.

I was looking out the window, watching the city lights and busy streets pass us by, while listening to the song on the radio and my friends conversing about what they will order at the bar. Things might not be as good as they used to be with Alex, but at least he’s still somewhere out there for me.

I lock my phone and put it away in my bag for good. We will be okay again. Or that’s how I’m trying to distract myself from thinking too much, because I know deep down I miss him bad.

.

At the bar, it’s jolly. I’m bubbly like the bubbles in our drinks. There’s no reason to be sad anymore, as long as I remember to forget. We dance the night away, we take more pictures, and buy all the fancy drinks. I know it’s a one-way ticket to temporary happiness, but I’m planning on staying for as long as I can. 

I get up to go and order another drink, and my friend comes along to tug at my clothes. I figure they are just too drunk to support themselves, until I notice their eyes wide as a deer’s in headlights and they shriek in my ear, “oh my God, I think I just saw him!”

“Who?” I cringe at their volume. 

They stammer and wave their hands frustratedly, already having trouble expressing themselves due to being under the influence, “Alex!”

My heart sinks.

“He’s not here, he’s home! We’re literally not even in the same country right now,” I try to get them to calm down, before someone else intervenes. I understand that this isn’t a good look on us here, them all over the place, freaking out.

“You ordering?” the bartender asks, seemingly bored of waiting around. 

I tell him to hold off a minute and instead escort my friend back to our table. What kind of a sick joke was that anyway?

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—it looked just like him!” my friend still slurs their apologies to me. 

“Okay, I believe you. It’s okay,” I coo at them when they look at the verge of tears. What have I started? My brain being occupied with the endless trail of thoughts of Alex all night seems to be contagious. Are we all going crazy? Is this fun anymore? 

I don’t know if I even believe them, though. I’m curious who it was, I could imagine it’s someone that does not look like Alex the slightest. You know, when you have had too much to drink, anything can look like anything. I admit, the thought of it makes me want to laugh. It’s kind of funny in the end. 

“Hey!” someone storms up in front of me.

What now? Oh no, are we in trouble? Was that scene we made too much? 

I look up and squint, just to be met with eyes I know I have looked into before. I almost jump out of my skin when they splay a hand across my back. 

“I found you! I actually found you!” they giggle. 

And that’s definitely the same laugh I have had the pleasure of hearing before. 

Alex?!

I swear I almost fell forward from shock, “what? How… How?”

Alex places his arm on mine now and leans in to talk quietly to me, as if he doesn’t want me to miss a word, “what does it look like? Okay, I know it looks bad, but…”

I waited for him to say something and still look at him like he is a shooting star passing me by, which seems to amuse him. 

“I flew back, to... see you, I guess? Yeah. I have to go back home tomorrow, or so, but then I’ll be back again, okay?”

None of this is actually making sense like it should. He came all the way here, just for a day, to attend my birthday party? He flew all those hours to see me and has to do it all over again tomorrow? 

I’m here standing in place, his hand steadying me. It’s like the world has stopped for us, and it’s just waiting for me to make a choice, make a move, say a word, for things to start moving again.

I know he’s touching me, but I almost don’t feel it. I can see he’s desperately waiting and begging me with his doe eyes to do something, but I can’t quite acknowledge it. Did he make the right choice by showing up here? Just when I felt like I was content leaving things between us unfinished, to never write that chapter, he’s bringing everything back.

I know whatever I feel and whatever my choice will be is real, when tears pool in my eyes, that he seems to notice even in the dim lighting, because he starts to move his hand and rub my back again soothingly.

“W-what changed?” I finally ask him, when I got myself together. Except that I’m now crying, great. 

He looks surprised that I want to have this talk right here, right now, but then tells me “I wanted to see you, and I want to see what life could be with you. You know, if we take the next step.” 

In spite of everything, in this moment, I feel it in my soul  and heart that I need him in my life, in any way it works out, but even better if it’s in a way we haven’t explored before. Or is it? 

“Don’t overthink it,” he reassures me, as he can sense the distress I’m in, “let’s make the most out of these few days and see what happens.”

I nod, “that sounds... perfect.”

He laughs lightly, and pulls me finally in a tighter hug and sways us back and forth. I could spend the rest of my night here. 

My friends are quiet behind us, trying to mind their own business’s, but of course they are curious too, looking at us and then looking away when I try to catch their eyes. I don’t even want to know how dramatic I look, with tears rolling down my chin, pouting my lips. 

I guess I have to introduce Alex to them now, kind of. I’m sure they already know him. 

He stands there right by my side as my friends pipe up their “hi”, making sure to say hello to everyone back. 

I can’t help myself, but only look at him with stars in my eyes. How charming he is towards everyone, not losing that smile on his pretty face even for one second and raising his eyebrows in surprise every time he tries to memorize a new name. It’s kind of an… attractive look. I should stop. 

None of my friends still have no idea that there is something going on between us. To them, we are just friends, good friends. But just between me and Alex, we both know now there is something more brewing. 

I’ll tell them in my own time. Nothing gets out, until I’m ready for them to know. And this bar doesn’t seem like the ideal place to drop such scoop. I’m sure we all want to be sober for that conversation, too. 

“Sorry, I have to go and lock my car doors. I got out in a rush when I was looking for you and feel like I’m getting robbed right fuckin’ now as we speak,” he whispers to me and laughs.

I smile at him, until my smile falls, “your car? I mean, yeah, of course, but how did you even find me? How did you knew I was here? How did you knew to drive here, out of all places?”

He just mysteriously grins from ear to ear, “so many questions, but how could I not know? That’s all you’ve been posting and I can still see your Snapchat location, you know? I knew it would come in handy one day.”

It dawns on me, “oh, right.”

I never even thought of that possibility. He’s a hundred steps ahead of me in thinking. Props to him. 

I let him go and as he disappears for a minute, it’s already enough time for me to start missing him. I lived all this time without him, and now even a second is too long without him. Love is impatient. I want him only to myself. Love is selfish. I’m talking about love like it’s been here the whole time. Love is blind. 

I want to cry again. I’m not sure if they are happy tears this time. I’m happy, because he’s here, but it also fills me with a heavy feeling, because I can’t exactly celebrate and smother him with love here in public like I want to. I need to be careful of every word and action with him in front of my friends. Hearts aren’t meant for cages and chains, and that’s what mine feels like right now, locked up and tortured. Misused. Might as well not have one. 

No one at the table says anything. I guess they are either still drunk and ready to go home, or just flabbergasted. I’m both. Mostly the latter. I feel almost completely sobered up. 

Before I can hold myself back, I tear up again. I’ll just blame this on the drinks, or him, or me, or my friends. All of it is overwhelming. 

My said friends immediately gather around me to comfort me and in chorus ask me what’s wrong. I almost want to say everything is wrong, but that’s not true.

“Are you just going to make yourself cry more and not tell us what’s happening?” they push me to talk and huddle around. It makes me crack. 

I choke out and sniffle, speaking no matter how much my voice breaks, “he’s just so great, you guys, like… you see him now and he’s so kind and amazing, right? But once you actually get to know him like I do, he’s incredible.” 

I can’t pick my head up anymore from where it’s buried in my hands, but I can tell by the loud silence that there’s confusion in the air, until my friend snaps back to reality and is the first to ask me what I’m sure everyone else is thinking, “but… this is a good thing, right? Happy tears?”

Others agree to the question, waiting to hear the confirmation of their conclusions from me. Safe to say, they are surprised at my outburst, but still supportive.

I hiccup, “I guess...”

Now I just feel like leaving it at that, if they can’t figure it out themselves that I’m not happy with the way things are. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I got some of it off my chest and that’s it. No more spoilers. 

“You’ve cried a lot tonight, on your birthday too! Are you sure you’re okay?” another friend asks. 

I settle for silence and silent weeping for a little longer, until I croak out, “I feel like I have never felt like this about anything, or anyone, before like I feel about him. There’s so much emotion, as you can tell. And I—we—there are some feelings involved, has been for a while now. I like him, he likes me. He wants to try to—I don’t know—see if we could be more than friends. That’s why he came here tonight.”

Shit. Before I can stop myself, I have spilled the secret. This is bad. I can still feel my cheeks burning under the stream of tears and I don’t see an end to it. I have to get it together though, before Alex gets back. Which should be any second now, by the way.

I don’t even know if he’s okay with this information being out. I don’t even know if that’s true. What if it doesn’t work out in the end and he leaves the country again as just a friend? 

I try to wipe my eyes before he comes back.

“It’s okay! I mean, wow, I never saw this coming, and judging by your reaction, you didn’t either, but sometimes it just happens like that, when you least expect it,” my friends are immediately there for me.

“I’m sorry I kept this from you, it’s just really scary for me that you guys know now. And it’s a big deal.”

When Alex finally, or at a perfect time, comes back when I look decent again, everyone fortunately acts the same as before. I don’t think he even notices that I’ve been shedding tears again. In any other situation I’d feel hurt, but now it’s for the better. At least I don’t think he notices, when he smiles at me and makes the move to put his arm around me to be cute, but holds himself back and instead asks me if I’m okay. 

We stay for one more round of drinks and I comprehend that he hasn’t wished me a happy birthday yet. Maybe there’s a time and place for that later.

When the night actually comes to an end and everyone has an assigned ride home, Alex gets close to me again and asks me, “so, uh—do you want me to drop you off at home?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

He gentlemanly opens the car door for me and waits for me to climb in, until getting in from his side. Before he even considers driving off, he looks at me and daringly caresses my cheek with his soft fingertips, “hey. Happy birthday. I didn’t tell you yet and—”

He checks the time.

“—it’s past midnight, but fuck it. It’s still your birthday, don’t listen to the clock.”

We laugh in the dark car and I give him my most sincere thank you. 

“So, about your present…”

I examine his face, and how it turns smug, and tell him, “a present? I think you coming here was enough. What could be better than that?”

I’m surprised when he still doesn’t start the car, but pulls his hand back a little bit just to use his thumb to swipe it slowly across my lower lip and murmurs, “no, no, nothing like that. There’s really only one more thing that I could give you.” 

“What is it?” 

Alex tilts my chin up, his eyes not leaving my lips, “I think you know. Do you trust me?”

Oh… I think I do know what he means. 

I gulp as he gets closer, “I do.”

This is not the first time we kiss, but it’s the first time we do it when we know the feeling is mutual and this could become a recurring thing. As our lips mash and do their thing together, his warm fingertips slips under my the hem of my shirt just a little, to test the waters. I let him twiddle with the material and claim every inch of my skin. 

“What time will I see you tomorrow?” I mumble drunkenly against his greedy lips. Not on the drinks at the bar, but drunk on love, or whatever it is. It’s more than lust what we feel.

He retreats himself and the moment is gone, “what makes you think we’ll see each other again?”

I look at him confused. 

He fiddles with my hands that he has draped over his lap and continues, “what if we never say goodbye tonight? If… you want to stay the night at mine?”

What’s the worst that could happen, why not? Now that things between us are finally moving, I don’t want them to stop. 

I agree and his delicious, cherry-red lips curl into a smile, while an awed look swims in his pupils. He looks as gone as I feel. 

He finally reaches out to turn the engine key and the car purrs to life. I lean my head against the window and watch the sleeping city pass by. The empty streets void of people while we cruise is like a vision of a dream, like it’s just us two in the world tonight. Speaking of, in what world did today happen? This doesn’t feel like the same world I used to struggle in, living feels and comes as easy as breathing now with him. 

We drive and drive, until the scenario changes to something I recognize. We must be close to his apartment. From here I can see the park bench where we had that talk a while ago, when we agreed on staying as friends and he kind of broke my heart for the first time when he told me he needed time, and there was no certainty of anything. The place sparks up unpleasant memories in me. 

He seems to notice it too and taunts me, “you want to sit there? Reminisce with me a little bit?”

“If you do that I’ll break up with you!” slips out of my mouth. My big, stupid mouth. Can’t take my big, stupid mouth anywhere these days. Never in a million years I should have said that. 

“I mean… I don’t know what I mean,” I finally admit when he’s fallen silent. I really don’t know. We never said the D-word, dating, again since that day at the park, ironically. Not until now. We haven’t even established that, there’s no label on us that says we are exclusive. That’s a talk for another day. 

Alex finally opens his mouth and laughs, “I think you do. I know what that meant. You will break up with me.”

As he recalls those words back to me, I cringe so hard at myself. 

“No, seriously. I didn’t mean it like that,” I try to save face. Just when we agreed to take these few days slow, I go and announce it to him that in my head we are a couple. Leave it to me to mess up this bad. 

“I mean,” he seems to be enjoying putting me on the spot like this, “I don’t know how many ways there are to break up with someone.”

I sink into the seat, trying to be hide in plain sight. I hope he would let it go, but I know he won’t. Especially when he lays his hand on my thigh while driving with the other. Now we must look like a couple. A couple of pining people, if nothing else. 

“Now you want to get shy?” he asks, “would you still feel as shy if I said I kind of don’t want to wait anymore either?”

“With what?” 

He doesn’t even hesitate to speak and also doesn’t let go of me, but still holds my thigh in place, “fuck it, let’s make it official. I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but you want me as much as I want you. I want you in a way that allows us to be together. So, what do you say?“

My face gets hot. It’s what he does to me when he’s this blunt. 

“I would love that,” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding in. I have a feeling these four words will be the most important ones I will ever say. 

He smirks, “great! Uh—I would love to make this more romantic and shit, but…”

“You did this, technically, on my birthday, so I think it’s pretty romantic and great already. And I think it’s kind of us to just be spontaneous. It was perfect.”

He parks the car, “with the way you’re throwing all this praise my way, are you sure you can wait until we’re out of the car before you jump my bones?”

I try to duck my head down to hide my face, but he leans in and presses a single, seductive peck on the side of my jaw, before winking at me and exiting the car, before hurrying to my side to open the door for me.  I am definitely falling. 

.

“So, that’s how we got here,” I tell his friends in the kitchen, the luminous afternoon glow radiating through the window, illuminating our faces. Ever since the night when we—in his words, made it official—things have gone great. He had to leave the day after, but then eventually came back home from Mexico and told me he’s here to stay. So, life is sweet. It’s all like a dream, but the only difference is that I’m awake. 

What it comes to his friends: Karl, Punz and Foolish especially, the night I blacked out wasn’t thankfully the first and the last time I saw them. I had another chance of redeeming myself. We’ve hung out as a group a few times, like we are currently doing, and they are dying to know how exactly did we end up here. 

And, I am glad to tell them. Over and over again, as many times as they want to listen. 

I get up to walk to the fridge to fetch a drink, and notice Alex standing in the kitchen, preparing me a snack I didn’t ask for, but know I need. He’s sweet like that, making sure I eat and offers to make me something whenever he can tell I don’t have the energy to make it myself. It’s scary, how well he knows me already, but I can say the same about him. I think that’s how you know you have found your person. 

Alex purposely gently nudges and bumps me, just as I walk past him, “oh! Woah! Is this like our love story? Like in the old days?”

It takes me back to when we used to do that. 

He seemed to be finished with the dishes and stepped to his right where I was, and our bodies had another collision, I think this being the worst one yet. Like we’re used to it already and know the route out of the awkwardness, we just laugh it off. I don’t understand what the universe is trying to tell me to do right now, because it seems like every move I decide for myself to make is wrong. 

I understand now that the wait is over why it had to happen. It was painfully awkward to even look at him afterwards, but I would do it all over again if it meant that we would still have our happy ending. 

“Oh, shut up!” I scold him through my smile and in return, push him back with my hand. 

He grabs the hand I’m holding out and pulls my whole body against his instead and tells me he will never stop, pulling me into a kiss to seal the deal. He belongs with me, and there's never a day when he doesn't make me feel the same.

THE END.

#mcyt x reader #quackity x reader #quackity fluff #quackity imagines #reader x quackity #dream smp x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt fanfiction

[slayfics]

Okay, a sudden idea just popped up in my head. You can write this anytime you want or you can just ignore it but if your interested in writing, how about reader who is on the verge of death, gets saved by muichiro ? How would he react ? Or what would he do in a situation like that ? Your fanfics are what motivates me as a writer !! I literally became on because I wanted to be like you 😭❤️

Muichiro saves you.

Warnings: blood

This was by far the most challenging demon you had ever fought. You were struggling to keep up with its moves, and multiple times you had brought your blade down on its neck only to be unable to slash it.

Think- You thought to yourself. What would Muichiro do?

You suddenly had an idea come to mind. The final Mist Breathing form Seventh Form: Obscuring Clouds. It was a dangerous idea, you had only managed to use it properly once. The move focused on confusing the demon on your position then when you finally do go in for the strike you are extremely slow.

It was risky- if you didn't do it right you'd for sure be dead. But you had to try something you were losing stamina fast and wouldn't be able to do anything else soon.

On a whim, you attempted the Seven Form giving it everything you got. You spun around the demon which worked to confuse it. Seeing your opening you finally went in for the strike. The demon being taken off guard had barely any time to react, but still, it was not enough.

As your blade finally came down slicing the demon's head off, the demon at the same time went to strike you, hitting a vital organ. The demon's head fell to the floor disintegrating at once, and you fell down next to it.

Shit- I'm going to die, you realized. It wouldn't be long before you'd bleed out from your injury. Using the strength you had left you focused your breathing on slowing the bleeding. If you could hold out long enough, maybe just maybe another corps member would find you.

It didn't take long before in the distance you heard someone approaching. You felt your heart skip a beat at your good fortune. Much longer and you would have not made it. I hope this is an experienced corps member you thought, just as you were met with the sight of Muichiro looking down at you.

His eyes instantly widened in alarm at the state you were in and he dropped to the floor next to you.

"Keep focusing on your breathing," He instructed as he ripped off one of his sleeves and tied it around your injury to put pressure.

As grateful as you were that Muichiro had found you, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed that you had been so badly injured by not even an upper-rank demon.

"I'm sorry tok-," You began to say but Muichiro brought a finger to your lips shushing you.

"Do not apologize, you risked your life to slay a demon. That is what any Hashira would have done."

You felt a smile spread on your lips at his praises but slowly your vision began to blur.

"Keep focusing on your breathing, and I'll get you to the butterfly mansion as soon as possible," he said, gently grabbing you into his arms. Upon picking you up in his arms Muichiro realized how bad off you were. You didn't even have the strength to hold your head up or wrap your arms around him for support.

Muichiro carefully placed the weight of your head against his chest and his arm, keeping your head upright to avoid any choking. Once he felt comfortable with how secure you were, he took off in the direction of the butterfly mansion.

"Alert Miss Kocho we are coming," He said to his crow who swiftly flew ahead.

Muichiro continued to make his way as fast as he could without disturbing you in your arms. Even with his swift pace you were beginning to lose consciousness and started to come to terms with possibly dying.

"Tokito-" You called in barely above a whisper.

"Hm?" He glanced at you then back up, continuing to run.

"I- I'm glad it's you here with me- if this is my last-"

"No!" He yelled. "We still have so much to do together, do not even begin to say such things!" Tears swelled up in his eyes. "Just keep focusing on your breathing, save all your strength for that! We're almost there!" He looked down at you once more seeing the sleeve he had tied around you was now soaked through as was his own uniform where he was holding you. Yet your soft breathing continued, you followed his orders and did not give up just yet.

Finally passing through the gates of the Butterfly Mansion, Shinobu was ready and waiting. Instantly taking you to bed and getting to work attending to your wound.

"She'll be alright?" Muichiro asked, voice shaking.

"I'm going to try my best, it's a wonder she survived this long," Shinobu answered.

Thank you for the request Kye! You’re too sweet ahhh! You’re doing amazing with your own fics keep it up! For anyone that hasn’t check out @sleepykye fics! Her work is so unique and adorable~

Tags~

@aeolia18 @yandere-kou @sakurasunkiss @hashiroses @plvuii @snowmist-hashira

#demon slayer #kny x reader #kny x you #anime x reader #anime x y/n #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x you #muichiro x you #demon slayer muichiro #muichiro x reader #kimetsu muichiro #tokito muichiro x reader #muichiro x y/n #kny muichiro #muichiro tokito #muichiro fluff #demon slayer hashira #hashira x reader #mist hashira #hashira #kny hashira #kny fanfic #kny fluff #demon slayer fluff

[nostalgebraist]

Here are some fun / amusing / potentially-interesting facts about the process of writing and plotting Almost Nowhere, if anyone's curious.

Major spoilers for the whole of Almost Nowhere under the cut.

(There's really no way to spoiler-censor this material without rendering it incomprehensible. If you haven't read the book, do that first before reading this post.)

(1)

A large fraction of the book's eventual plot emerged from my attempts to patch a single, in-some-sense trivial continuity error I made while writing the very first chapter.

The Mooncrash section of that chapter ends with this sentence (emphasis added):

All parties were used to stillness, now, for the Mooncrash was nearly four years old.

And a few paragraphs later, in the opening of the Academy section, we get this (emphasis added again):

For (as everyone knows) the Shroud is upon us and while it tolerates the Academy — as it presently is, as it has been for the last eight years, a chrysalis, preparing itself step by minuscule step [...]

So: The Mooncrash is 4 years old. The Academy crash is at least 8 years old, and indeed older.

Yet the Mooncrash is also as old as the crash system itself! It was made by humans, during the period between the discovery of the anomalings and the mass-crashing of the human race. (This is only shown in the second chapter, but I had it in mind before then.)

How long has the human race been crashed, then? At most 4 years, and at least 8 years? How could that possibly be?

It would have been easy enough to just edit the chapter, but that's not how I do things. Restrictions, famously, breed creativity. I enjoy attempting to solve puzzles I have inadvertently created for myself, and many of my best ideas have been produced through this process.

It would also have been simple and easy to merely say: "OK, I guess time elapses at different subjective rates, in different crashes."

Amusingly, I ended up doing that anyway! But for some reason, this avenue didn't occur to me at first. By the time I started asking myself whether to include this kind of effect, I already had a different solution in mind.

I spent a lot of time beating my head against the figurative wall, trying to resolve the 4-vs-8-year issue. The early parts of my AN notes are full of this stuff.

----

At some early point, I came up with the idea that the anomalings/shades would deal with troublesome crashes by "rebasing" them, rewriting their histories.

I didn't intend, initially, for this idea to take over the plot as much as it eventually did. It was just a fun idea that underscored the huge power differential between the anomalings and their captives, and felt in line with the Cartesian/Wachowskian themes of transcending a "fake"/illusory world, radically doubting one's own perceptions and memories, etc.

But, having stipulated that "rebases" were a thing, I hit upon the idea that they could be used to modify the total quantity of past (subjective) time inside a crash -- turning 8 years into 4, or vice versa, or whatever.

So, I could fix the problem by stipulating that one -- or both -- of the problematic crashes had already been rebased, in this way.

But why? And by whom?

----

Now, at this early stage, I also had the idea in mind that the character "Anne" would eventually escape from her crash, and that she would have a hand in various major events in the story -- including some events that had already occurred, relative to the "present" of the textual PoV.

But I didn't know, yet, what these interventions actually were.

(I put "Anne" in quotes, here, because in the very early stages I casually assumed that only the PoV Anne introduced in Chapter 1 would be a major character, and that her sisters were merely background material for her personal narrative, like the tower itself. Of course, in the process of thinking through the details of things, I realized that this assumption was needless and indeed counterproductive.)

As often happens when I'm plotting a story, I found that two unknowns slotted neatly into one another, each one providing a potential solution to the problem posed by the other.

We need something for "Anne" to do in the past. Something consequential, something that shows off her newfound agency -- but also something that obscures her role from view. Ideally, something kind of weird, esoteric, "advanced"; something that feels buried inside the deep, dark center of the backstory, which the reader will only "excavate" at the end of a long, strange journey.

And we need someone to rebase the Mooncrash.

That answers the "who?" question. But again -- why?

Well, it was already in the plan that Azad would join forces with Michael, when Michael went in search of his lost Anne. That Anne would meet Azad, as a result, and that it would be Azad who persuades her to return to Michael's crash.

I didn't, at the time, have much else planned for the Anne-Azad connection.

As originally conceived, the "Azad convinces Anne to return" scene was about Azad's uncertain loyalties, and about Anne's lack of exposure to other human beings (and to the power of words, as deployed by human beings with access to real human culture). That is, it merely served specific, separate purposes in the sub-stories of these two characters. There was no intent to set up, or develop, a thread connecting these sub-stories, making Azad a major character in Anne's arc and vice versa.

But that seems like kind of a shame, doesn't it? Why go to the trouble of preparing these characters, and bringing them into contact, if I didn't have anything for them to do together?

Anne and Azad.

We need someone to rebase the Mooncrash.

We need Anne to learn about real human culture, somehow, before she leaves. I knew that, already, though I didn't have a mechanism in mind.

(I also knew, by this point, that causing Azad's appointment as translator was another one of "Anne's" consequential moves. I had conceived of this, at first, as a relatively impersonal act, done only for its historical significance. Indeed, that would have been enough -- but the more the merrier, theme/motivation-wise.)

Problems paired up, interlocked, and became each others' solutions.

(1b)

As is obvious from the above, I didn't have the scenario planned out in very much detail when I wrote the first chapter.

At the time, the story had been gestating in my head for a while, but only as a bunch of vague inklings and intentions.

The proximate cause of writing-the-first-chapter was a sudden and unexpected burst of inspiration. I was riding the bus to a social event, and suddenly my mind was awash with crisp, never-before-glimpsed details about Anne and her tower, the Mooncrash, the Academy, Cordelia's blue dress -- all the stuff of Chapter 1. It felt like a crucial message was being beamed into my brain, VALIS-style, from the Muse / Higher Power.

I had an urge to bail on the social event, turn around, ride back home, and start writing immediately -- what if the magic went away, as suddenly as it had arrived? I resisted that urge and made a perfunctory appearance at the event, but then went back home and wrote as much as I could before falling asleep.

So, when I was writing that chapter, stuff like "four years" and "eight years" wasn't based on any single coherent picture, just vibes and vague inklings.

(I think 4 years probably sounded like the right amount of time for G&A to have been in the Mooncrash, character-wise. Meanwhile, Hector's ascension from the Academy had to be long enough ago that there would be no direct overlap between Hector and any of the current students. The "Bad Old Days" had to feel like something you'd only hear about in rumors, or from authority figures who probably weren't telling the full story.)

(2)

Like TNC before it, Almost Nowhere was originally conceived as relatively simple and straightforward story, only to become something much weirder and more complicated as I fleshed out the details.

As I said above, I only had a very vague "plan" at the outset of the writing process. But I kinda knew where I was going with it, in very broad strokes.

The original arc, insofar as it existed at all, was something like:

The bilateral / anomaling tension is introduced.

The bilateral PoV characters come to an understanding of their situation.

Many of the bilateral PoV characters join up with Hector Stein, who is already trying to defeat the anomalings and free humanity from the crashes.

Azad temporarily sides with the anomalings, and Anne temporarily returns to her captive state. But both them "come around" eventually.

Anne eventually triumphs over Michael, delivers a dramatic monologue castigating him for imprisoning her (etc.), and mounts a successful escape.

Shortly after Anne's escape, some (TBD!) resolution to the main conflict is achieved. Whatever it is, it is proposed/spearheaded by the bilateral faction (and specifically Anne herself), and it somehow exemplifies "the bilateral way of thinking/being."

The humbled anomalings conclude that "the bilateral way of thinking/being" has its advantages, both practically and morally.

So the story, as originally conceived, was much more straightforwardly about the "good" PoV humans fighting back against aliens.

It unabashedly took the bilateral side in the conflict, and it ended with a "beauty of our weapons" sort of moment in which the bilaterals are both victorious and righteous, and in which these two kinds of success are closely linked and almost merged.

I have to imagine that, even in counterfactual worlds where some things went differently, I never would have stuck to this version of the story all the way through.

Because, one way or the other, I would have eventually realized that.. like... this version of the story kind of sucks, right?

I mean, why go to the trouble of introducing these aliens, and trying to make them interesting, only to say "nah, actually these guys were just wrong, it's us and our existing 'ordinary' pre-conceptions that are right, and that's what the story was about all along"?

It would have been "inventing a guy to be mad at," as the saying goes.

Not a great foundation for a story. And the least interesting possible direction to go in, given this kind of setup.

It also presents a seemingly unresolvable tension, for the writer, about how to portray the distinctively "bilateral" nature of the bilateral side in the conflict.

If "bilateral" is as broad a category as the anomalings say it is -- if you and I and all of us, whatever other qualities we possess, participate equally in this sin -- then it's hard to strike a note of emotional triumph around the quality of "bilaterality" that doesn't feel wrong, vacuous, or bloodlessly abstract.

"Woo, yeah, humans are great!" I mean, are they? All of them? You don't get to say "well, only the good ones," here, or "in their ideals if not always their acts," or anything like that. Everyone is included in the relevant category, except for the guys-who-aren't that were invented for this specific story.

It's difficult to make this land properly, in the same way it would be difficult to write a story that inspires "carbon-based life pride" or "having-DNA pride" or the like in its reader.

So this version of the story was dead on arrival. And indeed, by the time I was thinking through the stuff chronicled in (1) above, this version of the story felt like a provisional placeholder, at best, in my mind.

Nonetheless, there are various echoes of it in the story I eventually landed on.

For example, in the original version of "Anne's" escape -- conceived in a much more straightforwardly positive way -- I had Anne reading "real" books in secret, drawing moral strength from them, and then including a bunch of literary quotes in her big dramatic monologue to Michael. (I took inspiration, here, from John the Savage reading Shakespeare in Brave New World.)

And I had the idea that "Anne," being an autodidact, would read omnivorously without making culture-bound distinctions familiar to you and me; that her selection of quotes, in the monologue, would put low culture alongside high culture, infamous books alongside famous ones, etc.; and as a particular case, that it'd be fun if -- before going on to quote Shakespeare and co. -- she began the whole thing by quoting Ayn Rand.

And that one idea stuck, even if the rest of it didn't.

(Or, consider how the idea of "a powerful move in the conflict that exemplifies the bilateral way of thinking/being" actually crops up multiple times in the finished story, right up to its last scenes. One can see traces of it in the "trick" that obsesses Michael, in the use of autobiographical writing to build up nostalgium, and in Annabel's improved crash design.)

(3)

I came up with the Mirzakhani Mechanism relatively late, in between writing Chapter 13 and writing Chapters 14-15 (in which the MM is introduced).

The MM was a product of looking back at the sci-fi elements that already existed in the story, like crashes and rebases, and trying to invent some single underlying explanation that covered all of them in a relatively parsimonious way.

This basically "worked," I think -- it certainly worked better than I had been expecting, after playing the dangerous game of "write a bunch of weird stuff and hope you'll be able to explain it all later." (I remember talking to one reader who was shocked that I hadn't had the MM in mind from the very beginning, which was flattering.)

It also had unintended consequences that kinda took over the story, but largely in a good way.

Earlier, I had planned to have the post-rebase crash timelines "screened off" from the outside world somehow, so that rebasing a crash wouldn't mess up the timeline of the outside world. But, once I'd fixed the idea that "rebasing is an MM event" in place, I realized that this wasn't consistent with the way MM events were meant to work. Instead, the exposition in Ch. 15 directly implies the stuff about rebases that Grant realizes much later in Ch. 41.

Once I'd noticed this, it was obvious that it was extremely important, and I re-incorporated it into the broader plot.

On a related note, I eventually decided that the account of the anomalings "going backward in time to our era" in Ch. 15 didn't really make sense. This meant I needed a different, more viable way anomalings and bilaterals to exist at the same point in time.

This line of thought, along with several others (like "what happened to all the nonhuman organisms?" and "which parts of the MM multiverse are real?"), eventually led me to invent Everywhere-Heaven and the beasts.

That happened right at the start of 2022, between Chapters 21 and 22.

It quickly became clear that the E-H/beasts stuff could be put to a lot of valuable use in story's third act, which was largely a worrying blank space in my head (even at this point!). From thereon out, I worked on fleshing out the third act behind the scenes while writing the second.

Not coincidentally, Chapter 22 contains a ton of E-H-related foreshadowing, and also some hints that human scientists (like Aidan in Ch. 15) had never fully understood the anomalings.

The use of Maryam Mirzakhani, a real (and recently deceased) mathematician, was a weird choice and arguably one in poor taste. All I can really say in defense of it is that it came to me suddenly, and had a number of properties that fit the vibe of the part of the story in which it appeared, and I have a policy of "going with my gut" when it suggests such things to me.

I felt similarly about this choice and another thing introduced in Ch. 15, the nuclear attack intended to kill scientists. Both of these things underscored the fact that the story took place in an alternate reality. And both felt sort of "edgy," "too dark," "too close to the real world" compared to the tone of the story so far. But I wanted to take the story to new places in the coming acts -- "darker," "more real" places -- and something felt right about introducing these elements at this exact point, as signposts providing an indication of where things were headed.

(4)

The phrase "NOWHERE TO HIDE" was originally "NO MERCY," in my notes.

And the abbreviation "NM" for "NO MERCY" was used throughout my notes for Nowhere-To-Hide related stuff, e.g. "NM Annes."

This wasn't the product of much thought, just the first thing that came to mind that had roughly the correct vibe. I almost immediately concluded that I'd have to replace "NO MERCY" with something else in the work itself, since it would seem like an Undertale reference that I didn't intend to make.

"Moon" was originally just a placeholder name -- a shorthand for "the 'NM Anne' who rebased the Mooncrash." But I liked the idea of actually using it, once it had occurred to me.

The corresponding placeholder name for A11 was "Ling," as in "linguist" (but also an actual name).

(5)

I went through 3 different outlines of the third act.

Really, there was a first outline, which was really bad, and then there were two slightly-different versions of a very different outline that mostly corresponds to the finished draft.

The first, bad outline was amusingly titled "notes-satisfying-ending.txt", because I explicitly used this post about "satisfying endings" as a guideline while writing it.

(To be clear, I don't think the linked post was to blame for the badness of that first outline. I didn't ultimately find the post very helpful as writing advice, but the "satisfying ending" outline wasn't even a "satisfying ending" in the post's own terms, and was also bad in unrelated ways.)

I don't want to go into much detail about the bad outline. It was really bad, and also really different from what eventually occurred. It's honestly a pretty embarrassing document.

A lot of the key ideas were there (E-H, etc.), and the very end of the story was roughly the same. But it had a ton of needless flaws that I later corrected. Various existing character arcs and motivations were dropped and never picked up, or suddenly diverted in some new and unfruitful direction; way too much time was spent on getting characters and objects from point A to point B, or otherwise sort of rambling about in a way that didn't matter in the end; it included a lot of whimsical "fun ideas" that weren't necessary and would have added clutter to an already very full canvas; etc.

I never got to the point of building a chapter-by-chapter version of this outline, but I'm sure it would have much longer than the existing third act, also.

The existing third act is pretty long, but it was actually the result of an aggressive pruning and tightening process.

If the "satisfying-ending" outline had a single greatest flaw, it was terrible pacing. Lots of slack, lots of empty space, and when big things did happen, they came out of nowhere, not really prompted by what came immediately before them.

The next draft of the ending resulted from taking the raw materials of "satisfying-ending," purging all the dross, re-thinking all the obviously flawed stuff, and then trying to rearrange the pieces in front of me in a way that was maximally "tight" and interconnected, with questions and tensions introduced and then resolved in a rapid-fire manner, and without any major thread "sitting around in the background" long enough to feel stale, or get forgotten.

That outline was in a file called "notes-good-end.txt."

Much later, I tightened up the plan even further, merging some things that were originally in separate chapters. This was in a file called "notes-true-end.txt", and -- true to its name -- was the version reflected in the book itself.

So there was "satisfying-ending," which sucked; "good-end," which was good; and "true-end," which was slightly better.

(I realize the multiplicity of the ending, and the account of deliberate "tightening" etc., is in apparent tension with my recent account of working by direct inspiration.

There are a few things I can say about this tension.

For one, it really is true that the third act of AN was more deliberately reasoned-out, and less directly-inspired, than some of the earlier stuff. This is kind of inevitable: you don't get to do anything after an ending, that's what an ending is, and so you have to deliberately try to make the final act of a story fully work as a thing unto itself, rather than writing checks in the hope of cashing them at some later point.

And separately, I do think the final version of the ending feels "more real," "more true to the work" than the satisfying-ending draft.

I think I was aware, even while composing "satisfying-ending," that it felt off and wrong in some ways. But it was only after going through the exercise of creating a complete ending -- some sort of complete ending -- that I was able to look back and say "OK, this fits, but this doesn't fit," and distill something that actually felt right.)

#almost nowhere

[tastefulsimp]

A Quiet Evening

I’ve never written anything like this before, but I needed some writing practice, and I cannot get Hazbin Hotel out of my head. I wanted to explore his complexity and write something that aligned with his character, our oh-so-scary-and-charming peepaw.

I’ve heard that some ace folks have an interest in reading romance and spice as a way to access certain emotions. I relish the idea of Alastor enjoying a romance novel from time to time. (and yes, the quotes from the book are really in the book) female reader | not spicy | tension

— Prologue

In life, Alastor always loved a good book. John Steinbeck, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and H.P. Lovecraft were among his favorites. But, the radio demon had a soft spot for a the author Elinor Glyn. While he was out running some errands this morning, he spotted a copy of "It" and Other Stories in the window of a book shop.

It had been so long since he enjoyed a good book. Most of the hotel crew would be out with the provocative one and his explosive friend tonight anyway. A quiet evening accompanied by a good book did sound quite lovely.

Once he finished his hotelier duties, he asked poured himself a glass of Sazerac, tuned the lobby radio to some jazz and swing at a low volume, and settled into the sofa.

He forgot how much he enjoyed a good read. In fact, the film adaptation of “It” was one of the only films he had seen while he was alive. Mimzy dragged him along to a showing one evening. In truth, he never cared much for the medium, but the story was entertaining at least. And, anything is enjoyable in good company.

“I should lend this to Rosie” he thought as he crept through pages of the novel, “she would enjoy this character’s— what does she call it? Ah, yes.. moxie.”

— Part 1

Emerging from your bedroom, you’re confused to find silence in the hotel. Your lively group of sinners must have left for the club already. Feeling a bit relieved, that you’re no longer required to socialize, you make for your bedroom once again. The faintest sound of music hits your ears just before you cross the doorway.

When you became a guest after the last Extermination Day, no one knew what to expect. Charlie was elated to have two fresh faces join the crew. But, after your counterpart bailed in the first week, you were the only remaining new guest.

As you approach the end of the hallway, the sound of swing music is grows louder with each step. Quietly descending the stairs into the lobby, you’re surprised to see Alastor relaxing on the sofa, reading a book in the dimly lit room.

You couldn’t help but be curious about Alastor. You knew the stories of the Radio Demon, and you saw the broadcast of their fight with Heaven. He was scary, sinister, and powerful… yet he had been nothing but kind to you so far.

Quietly approaching the lobby sofa, Alastor doesn’t seem to notice your presence. You peek over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of what title has him so invested. Your eyes catch on the sentence: “John was aware of the sex magnetism in her. He instantly wanted to kiss those cherry lips…”

Your breath caught in your throat as you realized, Alastor was reading romance..? There’s no way. Peeking again, you scan the page, your eyes landing on the words “analyzed, dissected, and stripped her.”

Yep. That’s a romance novel.

Alastor cleared his throat and stretched his collar just a bit. You watched, bewildered as he turned his head toward you with a smirk. “You’re not a very good spy, you know” Alastor quipped.

“I’m sorry,” You replied sheepishly. “I didn’t realize anyone else was still here.”

“I thought the very same.” He said, eyes returning to his book. You crossed over to the arm chair across from him and took a seat.

“Not up for a night on the town, my dear?” he said casually, glancing at you over the top of his book. He had traded his monocle for a pair of reading glasses, he was wearing a tied red silk house coat over his white button up, and some loafers. He looked so relaxed, you thought.

“Not really my thing, honestly.” you say, your eyes never meeting his, “It’s loud, it smells, and I can get a better buzz here anyway.” He lowers the book slightly to reveal his signature smile.

“Hm. I often wonder how you ended up down here, Miss ___,” Alastor jokes. You laugh, “My ticket to hell may have been coated in blood, but those petty sins have never been my style,” you reply smirking at him.

“What are you reading?” you ask, crossing one leg over the other in your seat. His eyes trace over your outstretched leg, before meeting yours once again. “Elinor Glyn. A novel called, It” he replied in a dry tone.

“What’s it about?” you asked, thumbing through the redemption lesson plans that were strewn across the end table next to you. His eye twitches. He let out a big sigh, “I was rather enjoying my solitude.” He shifts in his seat a bit.

“Is that all you were enjoying, Alastor?” you teased.

“I suppose I was enjoying the music as well, my dear” he replied, meeting your eyes over the top of his book once again.

“Oh, yes it’s lovely. But, I figured you were enjoying her cherry lips, or maybe her… sex magnetism.” You smirked at him. Annoyance washed over Alastor’s face as his eyes shifted back to his book, and closing it sharply.

“Ah, so you were spying on me.” He places the book down on the couch and rises to his feet. He grabs his glass of Sazerac and slowly starting toward you, static rising in his voice. “Perhaps it’s time you learn your place, Miss ___”

Panic floods your body as the Radio Demon approaches you, static in the air growing stronger. His pupils turn into black dials and he emits a glowing green aura. He could kill you right now.

You uncross your legs, and shift nervously, backing up slightly into your chair as he steps closer, and closer. Despite your fear, a depraved thought crossed your mind. This was kind of hot. NO! It’s not the time for that.

His faces is inches away from yours now, you can feel his breathing, and he can certainly feel your hitched breaths, but you never break the gaze you both hold. Within a millisecond its over. His eyes return to their normal round saucers, and the static dissipates from the air. “Do you understand, my dear?” he asks in a low voice.

His eyes stay locked on yours as he speaks, making your body tense. Are you seriously turned on by this situation?? This close to him, you realize he’s wearing a woody, citrus scent, and it smells incredible. You feel your face begin to grow hot, as a blush reaches your cheeks.

“Yes, sir.” you respond feigning innocence, giving him your best doe eyes.

“Good girl.” he pats your head then turns around to grab his book. “That was a lovely chat, Miss ____.” he says turning slightly to smirk at you, “sleep well.”

Another depraved thought crossed your mind, and this time you headed straight for the bar.

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor imagine #alastor hazbin hotel

[mixelation]

thoughts on itadei, itakisa, and itasaku? and i guess any other popular itachi ships that are not currently coming to mind for me lol

ItaDei

Love it. Have written tens of thousands of words about it. It's sort of a frustrating ship to write because they're both assholes about their own feelings (and I don't think Itachi in canon... has a lot of thoughts on Deidara), but Deidara has an extremely canonical gay melt down over Itachi, so I feel like there's a lot of ridiculousness to explore. The fact that they're both criminal villain ninja means there's a lot of room for understanding that other ships might not have. Yes, Deidara blows buildings up with people inside, what of it? He's not like "ooh aah you monster!!" over the Uchiha Massacre. And I like that they both have wildly different, but demonstrably lethal/successful, attitudes towards problem solving. Like I think they cover a lot of each other's flaws while also making each other worse, you know?

Since it's "brutally honest" opinion time, I will add a complaint I haven't made in a while. I hate the way a good chunk of fandom writes Deidara in mlm ships. For some reason, people like to make him a naive uwu bean to play the "feminine" role. Stop that, it's boring and OOC.

ItaKisa

This is a ship I don't really mind but also don't find super compelling. I'm not a big Kisame fan-- like he's fine, I like writing and reading about him fine-- but he's not one of my favorite Akatsuki members. I don't filter on ItaKisa but the tag won't make me NOT click a fic. I could be compelled to write it if I had an idea for it. I do prefer exploring their relationship from a more platonic angle. Kisame is most interesting to me when he's the guy dealing with Itachi's bullshit 24/7 and somehow still thriving.

ItaSaku

My original OTP!!!!!! Okay so I think they're super compatible and HERE'S WHY--

Basically I think Itachi is someone who has idealized romance in a way where he has an extensive very bland fantasy about nice Konoha girls who let him have the most bland vanilla hetersosexual marriage of all time. He wants the culturally appropriate equivalent of a white picket fence. Would he actually be happy with this? No, obviously not, but Itachi also thinks he's a pacifist.

Meanwhile Sakura is a violent maniac who is trying her hardest to BE that nice Konoha girl. They indulge each other's insane fantasies about it. Itachi looks at Sakura and is like: "oh yes, the perfect Konoha kunoichi, the student of the Hokage and Hatake Kakashi, a healer with the face of an angel--" But if his ability for self-analysis were 2% better he would realize his favorite Sakura moments are all like "ripped a man in half" and "brought that same man back from the brink of death to interrogate him." He is ready to lay back and let Sakura live out her own fantasy of Fixing the tragic S-ranked missing-nin WITH HER LOVE because that is also what Itachi wants. Ignore that the village is on fire, please

Other Itachi Ships

Let's see.... every once in a while I get intrigued by the idea of Kakashi/Itachi, but I have never hit on anything there that I really like. I'm fine with Shisui/Itachi, but I don't think Shisui has enough of a canon presence for me to go really feral over it like I would ItaSaku or ItaDei. I'm intrigued by some other Itachi/Akatsuki ships although I don't think any of them are popular. For example, I think Itachi and Sasori would clash horribly in that they're both assholes in similar directions, and this would make SasoItaDei a beautiful trashfire for Deidara specifically.

I've written some Itachi-Karin interactions that I thought were fun so I think ItaKarin could be interesting. Ummm..... OH! I regularly forget Izumi even exists. Sorry, Izumi.

#ask meme answer