#but . omg. sometimes seeing just So Much . side eye shit is . like imagine my exhaustion | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amandaray-nature-vs-nurture · 3 years

Text

Take a Mosey on Down the Diagnosis Trail

Was I depressed? How depressed? Was it “clinical” or “seasonal” or “major”? From what I remember, at first I was clinically depressed. Sprinkle some Zoloft on it.

I didn’t like taking the Zoloft and whatever else I was prescribed; didn’t like the notion of having to take pills to be “normal”. As I know now, that is not an uncommon sentiment. I am pretty sure I was diagnosed within those same few years as having some anxiety disorder, but it was not an “official” diagnosis at first. I remember going back and forth with trying to accept this diagnosis and take my medication when I was supposed to. I had access to the internet back then, but it wasn’t like it is now. Not for most of us, anyway. We didn’t think of searching for things online and definitely couldn’t just type a vague idea in the web address bar and get anything other than an error message. Back then, free AOL CD’s were everywhere by the thousands and I began collecting them by the pounds in my bag and would just hide them in random places all over any house or place of business I found myself at.

Within the same year of being released after my first committal, my sister got arrested after snitching on her own damn self and my mom and I moved to a one road, one grocery store, no red-light town. We lived in an itty-bitty house, my window looking out onto a massive lot for semi-trucks to back up and turn around in (at least, that’s all they ever did right there) at the cotton factory. I could jump out of my window and be in said lot before I even completed taking a single step. There were adventures to be had there many intoxicated nights (one more serious than the rest), of the infinite types of adventures that would have resulted in death in most other instances. I’m lucky to be alive. “Lucky” doesn’t even begin to describe it. I hear stories about young women or men just being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or making risky decisions, and not making it out alive -- and I feel like absolute shit knowing that I dodged so many bullets and they did not.

So, as I was saying, my mom and I lived in this house -- just us -- and things steadily devolved. Meaning: there was absolutely zero psychiatric care during that time. Loads and loads of self-medication, and lots of Live LiveJournal-ing (I have tried to recover the account, to no avail). Our house was the house for getting fucked up. It makes my heart palpitate and my guts twist to write this, so I am lucky (there’s that word again) that this is not a story detailing many of the happenings of that wretched place, or any of the wretched places that came after. This house is where my addict tendencies became known to me in a way, and where I developed an eating disorder.

I was never diagnosed with an eating disorder, but my best friend at the time Meghan and I would see who could go the longest without eating while taking fists full of diet pills (I always gravitated toward Metabolife) that we’d stolen up the street. We lived for the Pro-Ana sites/blogs that were around back then and used their tips and tricks and thin-spiration images daily. We ended up purging together after eating anything. We’d drink hot water and punch each other in the gut after jumping around for a while. We were competitive regarding things like who could get the next bone to be more pronounced, and how much we were able to purge vs how much we ate/drank, clothing size, weight, measurements, our side-effect symptoms of whatever we were taking or doing or just the whole mess in general, who bruised easier, who cut the most, the deepest -- who cut the most fucked up saying into which area of skin and using what -- and even our stools (speaks incredible volumes about your diet).

Meghan and I were extremely codependent. I spent those years with her cycling through an infinite amount of possible diagnoses, but I was never helped in any way. I remember a few episodes of psychosis or mania or whatever it was that are mixed with significant chunks of amnesia in my memory. When I think back on the few close friendships I had as an undiagnosed and untreated (or wrongly diagnosed and wrongly treated) person, I imagine that to the people who found themselves stuck in my orbit -- the people who found themselves hypnotized by my incredible vulnerability mixed with utter recklessness and abandon… it must have been awful for them. Especially when they eventually snapped out of their trance and saw what was happening to them because of my disastrous and dangerous ways. My willingness to go as low as one could imagine, at the blink of an eye. I annihilated souls one at a time -- but, for the very clear record, they were always willing participants. I never forced anyone’s hand. Maybe I obliterated the very essence of people, but by that point, they all chose their fates to be intertwined with my own.

In that itty-bitty house next to the cotton factory, my mom ended up abandoning me with a guy I had been dating for a couple of weeks, at most, and his mother ended up taking me in. I only have a few solid memories of that traumatic experience, as well as for the years that ensued at Robert’s house. I lived there, hurting myself in secret and having panic attacks and floating through the world only kind of remembering getting from one year to the next. There was more self-medicating and spiraling. Some cock fights. What I am saying is, there were a whole lot of years that I went untreated.

The next diagnosis that I remember is a Bipolar Disorder diagnosis. I have no idea if I was allegedly Bipolar I or II, but there were other diagnoses such as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety, Panic Disorder, and PTSD. Everyone uses OCD so loosely, “Omg, I know; I’m (or someone else they know is) so OCD about…” That, or they think that everything I do is going to be immaculate and organized; perfect. They don’t talk about the intrusive thoughts or the weird obsessions that no one can know about or the compulsive rituals we do that often have nothing to do with anything but if they don’t get done, something awful will happen and it will be all our fault. I remember when I was young I had the literal Fear of God in me. I was obsessed with death and Heaven and Hell. Thought about it all the time. I was told that God heard our thoughts and that he could always see us. Every night when I would lay down to go to bed, I forced myself to think of every single possible infraction I made that day and to beg God’s forgiveness for it while clutching my Precious Moments Bible. I lost a lot of sleep due to this and so it became increasingly more difficult to stay awake each night. I would pinch and scratch and slap myself to stay awake and beg for forgiveness. At some point I also began praying for the health and safety of every single family member I could think of and then for the health and safety of every person I could recall in my memory from being out and about during the day. I spent entire nights probing my memories for every possible soul who needed my prayers in order to be safe. I had to cycle through them, imagining God cupping his hand down around their home like a shield to keep bad guys from breaking in and to keep fires from happening or violent weather or someone from inside the home from hurting them or aliens from abducting and probing them (Fire in the Sky ruined my life that extra layer) or just whatever else my mind could come up with to be terrified of happening. I had to do this, and I had to do it as many times as humanly possible every night. I would, of course, pass out sometimes. I’d awake with a jolt and grab for my Bible. But, wait… what if it is upside down?! I would think. Surely there are crosses and other things within this Bible that would only invite evil and ensure my spot in Hell if inverted?! And so I would get up, turn the light on, and check. Getting out of bed every time I was unsure whether or not the Bible was facing the correct way was exhausting -- more exhausting than this whole thing already was. I came up with a solution: tie a cord from the string on my light to the rail of my daybed. That barely lasted a night because I was convinced -- despite the cord being nowhere near slack enough -- that the shit would get wrapped around my neck and kill me (and I would likely die with an inverted Bible in my hands, before I could finish my prayers). Solution? Super-glue a penny into the top left corner inside the front cover of the Bible so that I could just feel in the dark which way the hateful thing was facing. Problem solved (still have the thing).

The next diagnosis I had was Bipolar with Rapid Cycling (maybe some of the readers can see where this is going at this point). Also, the PTSD was bumped up to C (complex)-PTSD. I was put on mood stabilizers, lithium, some new anti-psychotic that was promoted as something else through the commercials on television and anxiety medications. I was in my early twenties at this time. Maybe mid. No later than mid. I had lost my mind after the death of a loved one and uprooted my life with Aidyn to move to Savannah at the petitioning of a couple I had met while I worked at Taco Mac. The wife worked there with me, and the husband came up to see her a few times. He was a tattoo artist and had found work in Savannah. They had outed themselves as swingers to me and requested my presence in their bed more than once. Oh, and they were also the most intensely religious people I’d ever met in real life. I was told that I’d have a job in the tattoo shop so I talked a coworker, Christine, into going down there with me to scout an apartment and “interview” at the shop. Fast forward to meeting my husband and a while with him, having Shane -- There’s a whole lot of dirty and dangerous detail in there, with another couple of stints in hospitals, and a whole lot of Ambien being used for everything but sleeping before this point, but they’re not important to this story.

I have just brushed over something here that is a big issue: skin picking. Excoriation. That has been a daily habit ever since I can remember. I think I have glossed over it so far now because it is not an issue which we are currently dealing with and focused on, but it has gotten so bad on a number of occasions that we couldn’t even go in public. That is not specifically my thing and so I am not very familiar with it, but I do have access to some of the memories we have about it.

After a couple of stays in jail and yet another hospital stay, I had the diagnosis of Schizoaffective Bipolar Disorder with Psychotic episodes. That one got me to the medications I am currently taking. All of my previous diagnoses still stand. I hit one of my bottoms during this time. There’s a whole lot more that I don’t remember than I do.

A few more stays in jail and a few years of sobriety later, and I had a diagnosis of DID. Dissociative Identity Disorder. I am still navigating that one. I’ve definitely been back forth and all around with this. I have mapped out a timeline of sorts in a journal, and it’s astounding how much sense this diagnosis makes. Finally: A diagnosis that actually fits all the way around. It is still quite alarming, and I am still trying to establish good communication between alters within my inner world and be more okay with referring to us as us or we or a system. We know now that the path we took could have never led us anywhere but here. We understand that only due to our most recent move to a place where we are safe with the kids, were we able to come forward and be known.

DID is a disorder rooted in trauma, and usually only makes itself known after the system has moved away from the direct influence or vicinity of the family member, caregiver, or other person (or people) who make it unsafe for parts of the system to be known. They were birthed by severe trauma and have existed for strictly covert missions to protect the other parts. Walls of amnesia are typically built up around the fractured pieces of personalities (this is always done at a young age -- usually sometime before seven to nine years old -- before personalities integrate into one personality), and stay up and operational in order to keep awareness of the trauma from reaching certain parts. When there’s no longer present and persistent perceived danger, these alters are often left with not knowing what to do with themselves and questioning their own validity and justification for living in an environment where no one needs to be protected. They have been operating within the system for so long in their own way of doing so, and the reactions of parts and systems to no longer being actively life-saving vary widely. They will reach out knowingly or not, and sometimes a system will even break down.

My story is not atypical. It is a classic story of a journey down Diagnosis Trail through the mental healthcare system. The average amount of time for people to get to a correct diagnosis of DID is seven years after initially becoming a patient within the mental healthcare system. Finding professionals who are willing to diagnose and treat dissociative disorders is a challenge, because despite the presence of the diagnostic criteria in the DSM-5 and clear cut texts on the treatment of DID, there are many people out there who have so little experience and knowledge of our disorder that they don’t “believe” in it.

This was my diagnosis journey, made intelligible and digestible as I could manage. I know that I touched on several different stories, and I definitely had to skip over so many significant times that came up as I was writing. I mean, I summed up multiple years at a time with just a couple of sentences, some of the time without even one actual meaningful memory to go with them. That’s what this blog is going to be for, in part; though, most of the details of my life are going to be published in my Memoirs. Thank you for reading and feel free to email me with or comment below any questions, comments, or concerns.

3 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Elastic Heart - Part 5/10 (Branjie) - Mia Ugly

A/N: The rest of this story is basically mostly written and I'm going to try to post it quickly before the ACTUAL SHOW messes with my Valentina-esque levels of fantasy. Thanks to everyone who has been reading and giving me feedback. I’ve never written in this fandom before and you’re all so kind (and talented, Jesus murphy.)

Relationships for Brock have always been complicated.

He really hasn’t met a whole lot of queer people who don’t have some kind of emotional hang-up based as a result of the world they live in. And his journey’s been easier than a lot of other people’s, so really, he should be over this by now. But he still has a helpless association between want and guilt, like the moment he feels something good it’s a ticking clock until it’s going to be taken away.

His most long-term relationship has been with ballet, and then he cheated on it with drag. He can’t imagine loving anything more than that. The thought makes him feel a bit sick to his stomach, because - that kind of love would be overwhelming. As big as the world. Completely uncontrollable, and Brock has to be in control.

But when he watches himself on Drag Race, there are moments up there when he sees someone who - isn’t. In total control, that is. Sure, he presents a very polished, curated image but sometimes he does this smile thing when he’s asked about Vanjie and it’s - just not a face he’s ever seen himself making. He knows what his face looks like. When did it start looking like that?

He goes out after the Snatch Game watch-party with a couple of other queens, ones he barely knows (but he’s trying to be unreasonably social, trying to stay distracted.) He can barely look at the screen as he epically bombs a Canadian legend, so he drinks too quickly, and talks to the bartender, and pretends to be live-tweeting when isn’t. There’s a guy there too (Jeff? James?) leaning close to Brock, touching him too much, buying him drinks he doesn’t want. Brock accepts them anyway, wanting to feel anything but his feelings.

His friends suggest another bar, and he follows them, and Jeff or James is comes too. There are vodka shots (he thinks) and Vanessa’s beautiful face on yet another screen and more shots and Jeff/James’ arm around Brock’s shoulders.

And Brock doesn’t want his arm there. But he laughs and smiles and reprises his war-crime of a French Canadian accent, because that’s easier. Easier than remembering that episode, those feelings. The sight of Vanjie, silver sequins across the mainstage, lips parting. the thought of: “this is it, they’re in the bottom two, it’s over.”

It wasn’t over then, of course. It is now.

Brock thinks he gets Jeff/James number although he can’t remember asking for it. Do they kiss? He hopes they don’t.

Somehow Brock is in an alley, leaning against a brick wall because he doesn’t think he can stand.

Somehow Brock is in his bed, and there are cats on his pillow.

Somehow Brock is on his phone, FaceTiming someone. Who is he FaceTiming oh dear GOD don’t be -

It’s too late, there’s no going back, and Yvie Oddly’s furious eyes are glaring at him. No, his name is Jovan. They’re here in the real world, they’re not on the show (Brock sometimes has to remind himself of that.)

“Oh.” Jovan says that one syllable like an obscenity, rubbing his hands over his face. Brock can barely make him out in the darkness. “I see you’re handling things well.”

Jovan’s in bed somewhere, still wrapped up in blankets.

“Whosit?” a quiet voice slurs somewhere beside him, a tumble of long dark hair against a white pillowcase. Jovan frowns and murmurs something indistinguishable, picking the phone up and taking it somewhere brighter.

Brock regrets everything, all of it. “Sorry - I shouldn’t have called.”

“There are lots of things you shouldn’t have done. I don’t know if calling me at 3 am makes the top five.”

(Top Five Things Brock Shouldn’t Have Done:

Number One, and fine, Number Two as well: Fallen stupidly, clumsily, unspeakably in love on national goddamn television. On a reality show, for Christ’s sake, like he’s a contestant on the Bachelorette, like he’s the kind of person who would confuse a paying gig with something real. Looked across a set full of cameras and lights and P.A.s and thought ‘holy shit, that’s Miss Vanjie,’ and then - not even one day later - thought ‘holy shit. I’m in so much trouble.’

Number Three: Started smoking. That stuff will kill you, and it’s so fucking hard to quit. He’s tried seven times, and the longest he ever managed it was six months, but he was touring and he was gaining weight and his body-issues were out of control at the time, so. Yeah. Don’t ever start, is what he’s saying.

Number Four: That Celine Dion, Jesus Lord, it was just hideous. The memory still wakes him in the night in a cold sweat.

Number Five: Thrown Ru-Paul’s fucking Drag Race.)

“I’m drunk.” The bedroom is spinning. The cats are in danger.

“Yeah, you are. Girl, what is going on with you?”

“I just - I know we can’t talk about it. But I wanted -”

In the dull light of a kitchen, Jovan raises an exhausted eyebrow - or at least the place where an eyebrow would be if he had one.

“I wanted to talk to someone who was there.” (Because Nina wasn’t there. And Plastique wasn’t there. And sometimes the weight of what happened seems unbearable on Brock’s shoulders. And sometimes he wonders if he even remembers it right. Sometimes he thinks that when the episode airs it’s going to be a completely different picture than the one he painted in his memory. Uglier. Bright and graceless and cheap.)

Jovan lets out a long, deep sigh. Brock can faintly hear a clock ticking in the background.

“Okay. Fine. I was there. But you know who else was?”

“Yvie -”

“Your fucking boyfriend. Remember that? So maybe there’s someone else you should be drunk-dialing at ass-crack-o’clock in the morning.” Jovan’s volume is starting to build, but he brings it down, casting a nervous look over his shoulder. “Listen, Brooke, you made a choice. Okay? You can’t go back, and you can’t beat yourself up for the rest of your life. There’s got to be a point where you move the fuck on.”

“I know.” This is why Brock called, must be what his vodka-soaked brain was thinking. Jovan can be mean and he can be abrasive but he’s never anything other than honest.

“And like, I’m pretty sure she’s fucking other people. Someone was posting about it. So.” (Okay, maybe a bit too honest Jesus fucking hell -)

Brock’s face must do something in response to that statement, because Jovan suddenly looks - sad. Ugh, that’s even worse than furious.

“Does she know?” Jovan asks before Brock can say anything.

“Know what?”

“Fuck off, ‘know what.’ Have you told her you’re in love with her?”

(“You want a ring or some shit?”)

Brock doesn’t answer.

Because - he hasn’t told Jose, not in those words. Not - out loud.

Jovan nods sharply. “And there it fucking is. Why do I have to have this conversation with you if you can’t cowgirl up enough to get your man back? I know this timid Canadian bullshit was good for the fans, they fucking ate it up, but this is real life now, girl. You can’t blame a bad edit.”

“Didn’t you just tell me to move the fuck on?”

“Well bitch, now you have two options. Maybe pick one. At least you’d be doing something.”

After Jovan says goodbye (well, flips him off and hangs up) Brock is still too tipsy for his own good. So he does another stupid stupid thing. He goes online.

There’s this picture floating around of the two of them. He remembers the P.A. taking it in the back seat of the van, promising them he’d send it to their managers (“Omg, you’re so cute right now.”) Brock looks at it for a long time, and there is sand and saltwater under his fingernails.

Is this what a heart attack feels like? Maybe he’s having a heart attack.

Maybe he should try to quit smoking again.

Maybe he should listen to Yvie.

(Move the fuck on. She’s fucking other people.)

Relationships for Brock are complicated. It’s only ever been simple once.

* * *

There’s a heatwave in L.A. and production takes them to a beach.

The whole area is guarded by P.A.’s on walkies, but its the queens’ day off, and there are no cameras for once. Everyone loses their shit after Brooke emerges from the changerooms with a wide-brimmed hat and long linen shirt over her swimsuit; for all that she’s accused of being thirsty AF, she’s still a pasty white chick who’ll burn in under thirty minutes. Vanjie laughs so loud and long when she sees her that it’s almost worth it (“yass girl, live that Diane Keaton fantasy.”)

When they get to the water, Vanjie is quick to ditch her clothes in favour of the tiniest black speedo, and a thin gold chain. She looks like a picture Brooke might have hidden under the mattress as a teenager, and Vanjie knows it. She grins at Brooke as she rubs some sort of oil on her (perfect, gorgeous) skin, and Brooke thinks she must have gotten too much sun already, might faint or dissolve with the weight of this wanting.

“Eyes up here, bitch,” Vanessa smirks at her as she walks past, heading toward the shoreline. Brooke watches her go, can’t help herself. After that precious five minutes in Brooke’s hotel room, every second around Vanjie seems electric. Brooke keeps having these terrible, delicious thoughts of pushing her up against every hard surface she sees; the stations in the werkroom, the side of the van, the runway. The way Vanjie’s body was warm and trembling, the way her eyes were blown black, the harsh rasp of her voice - fuck.

Brooke shouldn’t be thinking of this while wearing a swimsuit, she’s going to get arrested.

She lathers on the sunblock and keeps the hat (but undoes her shirt, so that’s something. She might regret it later when she’s lobster red, but she’s beginning to feel a bit like the girls’ spinster aunt chaperone.)

Yvie, seemingly oblivious to the heat, remains in long black jeans and a ripped up sweatshirt. She hangs back under a beach umbrella, nose stuck in a copy of Blood and Guts in High School while the other girls frolic in the surf like puppies or nymphs or something. Brooke sits with her for a bit, watches A’Keria and Silky and Vanjie hassle each other, laughing and swearing as they try to push Silky underwater.

Brooke isn’t sure what expression is on her face as she studies Vanessa from a distance, but it can’t be dignified. She twines her hands together, smiles down at her knees before anyone calls her out for it.

Of course, she’s too late. When she glances back up, Yvie is looking at her over the top of her tiny round sunglasses. She does not look impressed.

“You know what you’re doing?”

Brooke doesn’t bother pretending to be confused. She’s been asking herself the same question a lot lately. Too often to not be a bit of a red flag. A pink flag at least.

“We’re just flirting. It’s fun, we’re not –“

“Yeah, but like maybe drop the bullshit for ten seconds and remember that this is a competition. You know they’re going to make you lip-sync, right?”

Brooke’s mind goes conspicuously blank for a moment. She forces herself to take a breath, do a grounding exercise. Obviously it’s a thought she’s had before. She knows it would be a gag, knows it would be good television. But it’s also something Brooke has to avoid thinking about, move her thoughts in pirouettes and backbends around the idea, because she doesn’t know how else to survive. She can’t - she can’t be the one who sends Vanjie home. It just can’t happen.

“We’ll have to stay out of the bottom then.”

“Girl, they won’t care, they’ll fucking put you in the bottom to get that storyline. That’s the tea. Can you handle it? Because you’ve got little hearts floating around your head right now –“

“Fuck off –“

“-and I don’t think it’s an act. I think you’re trying to be cool about it, but you’re not being cool at all. The pair of you are being absolutely the least cool.”

Brooke rolls her eyes. Yvie’s been pissy since Scarlet left, but she doesn’t need to come at Brooke when they’re at the beach for Christ’s sakes.

“You know she’s not making it to the Top 4. With that runway -”

“Fuck off.” Brooke snaps her head toward Yvie, immediately done with this conversation. Yvie can say what she wants about Brooke, but no one gets to talk shit about Vanessa. “Seriously.”

“I’m just saying, you ready for that?”

“And I’m just saying it’s our day off. So maybe leave it for a goddamn minute.”

“Whatever.” Yvie gets up out of the sand, brushes off her jeans, and walks off down the beach, little black stormclouds following her. Brooke decides that the least she can do is steal the queen’s umbrella, shuffling her towel over into the shade and stretching out.

Fuck Yvie. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen. She doesn’t know anything about it.

Brooke dozes in the shade for a bit, enjoying the warmth of the sand and the occasional bark of Vanjie’s wicked laugh. She doesn’t know how long she lies there, only really waking up when a very cold, very damp toe drags over her bare calf.

“Poor sleepy Brooke. Just ain’t cut out for the pressure of television, hey?”

Brooke smiles before she opens her opens her eyes, squinting up at Vanjie in the sunlight.

“You need to pull a Dela, send your fine self home?”

“You wish,” Brooke smiles as Vanjie settles down beside her in the sand. Water droplets still cling to her shoulders, chest, stomach. Brooke feels her lips parting, thirsty as hell.

“That’s a damn lie, girl, don’t know what I’d do if you went home now. Be boring as hell around here. You know, cuz you got so much personality.”

“I leave the personality to you, you leave the challenge winning to me,” Brooke says deadpan, and Vanjie hoots with laughter.

“Oooh ,bitch! You may look pretty but you don’t act pretty.”

Nina and Plastique have gone to track down some food, and the rest of the girls are still down by the water, so it’s just Brooke and Vanjie under the umbrella together, lying side by side. Vanjie leans up onto her elbow, giving Brooke a once-over before raising her eyebrows.

“You undone a couple buttons, hey, Miss Brooke? Tryin’ to drive the boys crazy?”

“Only one of them.”

Vanjie gets that crease between her eyebrows again, that little nervous tell. It’s gone just as quickly, and Vanjie looks away.

“Sure, sure.” But there’s a flush to her cheekbones, the kind of blush that makes Brooke feel like she’s never been kissed before, or heard Tchaikovsky, or seen the Pacific Ocean.

Sometimes Vanjie does things that make Brooke feel like a sun that is rising. Completely new and so bright she’s blinding.

“Bet you say that to all the girls.” Vanjie stretches out on her back, staring straight up. “Top 8, Top 8, Top 8.”

“Top 4, Top 4, Top 4,” Brooke says back to her, and Vanjie laughs.

“Girl, I gotta take it one challenge at a time, right? I ain’t gonna think that far in the future.”

“What would you be doing today if you weren’t here? If you were just at home?”

“Hmm.” Vanjie thinks about it. Brooke watches her distractedly tug on the thin gold chain she’s wearing. “Same sorta thing, maybe. Hit up the beach, find some piece of trade. You know - what I’m doing now.”

“So this is just any other day for you.”

“Oh yeah. Definitely. Gettin’ bored up in here.” Vanjie grins at her. “What ‘bout you, girl? You be at the library or something?”

“Sure. Studying. Playing bridge. Drinking tea if things got really crazy.”

“I knew you was nasty.” Vanjie studies her, reaches out one hand. “One day and you already gettin’ scruffy.”

Her fingers trace Brooke’s upper lip, and Brooke can’t be held responsible for her actions; she opens her mouth and sucks Vanjie’s fingers inside, twisting her tongue around them. They taste like the ocean.

Vanessa’s eyes go dark and unfocused, and her breathing stutters. “Careful, girl.”

She slides her fingers out of Brooke’s mouth and sucks them into her own. Brooke wants to roll over on top of her and kiss her and grind against her, right here in the sand in front of everyone. She wants Vanjie’s nipples in her mouth, hipbones between her teeth. The want is something she’s never felt before, clean and simple and deadly as a knife. It shakes her knees, rattles her jaw.

Of course, she won’t do it. Vanjie might be known as this loud, dynamic, fearless queen, but when it comes to – whatever’s going on between them – she’s just as private as Brooke is. Maybe more so. Brooke was ready to spill the tea in the backstage lounge after being called out that first time, whereas Vanjie just laughed and disappeared. Brooke was talking about crushes while Vanjie was calling them friends.

She’s shy. Brooke’s realizing that more and more, and it blows her mind. Who would have thought that Miss Vanjie would be shy?

Most of the time it’s Brooke that makes the first move in the werkroom, and God help her she was never this touch-starved before - what the fuck is happening? She’s never had to clench her hands into fists instead of reaching out, she’s never felt electrified by something as simple as a raised eyebrow. She’s clearly out of her depths here, and she blames it on the structure of the show – the pressure of performing and being judged, the long days and almost sleepless nights (she’s dreaming in choreography now, wakes up en pointe.)

“You’re killin’ me,” Vanjie murmurs, staring at Brooke like she can’t help herself. Brooke flattens her hand against Vanjie’s smooth chest, and Vanjie lets out a tight, slow exhale. Brooke can feel Vanjie’s heartbeat leaping against her palm, and wonders how the hell she’s going to survive this.

The van ride back to the hotel is some kind of torture. A P.A. takes a picture of them in the backseat (“OMG you’re so cute right now.”) and then Vanjie takes Brooke’s hand and doesn’t let go. The two of them are pressed close together, shoulder to hip, and Vanjie smells of coconut oil and saltwater. It’s like sitting next to a mermaid. Brooke thinks she might be drowning.

At one point Vanjie dozes off, and her head tips toward Brooke. Almost resting on her shoulder but not quite. Enough that she can feel Vanessa’s breath each time she exhales. It’s making her feel dizzy, stomach tight with (well, want, that’s obvious) but also something else. Something sharper, like a needle full of ink. Something that feels permanent.

Vanjie’s hand is warm in Brooke’s, pulse slow and steady as music. Brooke does not let it go.

When the van is pulling into the hotel parkade, they’re jostled slightly. Vanessa grumbles, sighs and starts to pull away. Brooke turns toward her just as Vanjie wakes up and for a moment they simply – look at each other. Vanjie’s head almost on Brooke’s shoulder, Vanjie’s dark eyes blinking sleepily at Brooke. Their lips only inches apart, and the smell of salt in the air between them.

Vanjie’s forehead creases. Brooke would press her lips to that spot, if she wasn’t terrified the other queen would flinch away.

“Hey,” Vanjie says softly, their eyes holding. Something gives a lurch in Brooke’s chest, like a muscle being torn.

“Hey,” she says, but the word feels like something else.

“Out the car, bitches,” Silky shouts at them as the van door opens. As Brooke reluctantly pulls away, stumbles out of the back, she sees Yvie shaking her head, over it completely.

As they stand in the parking lot, waiting for the other girls to gather up their things, Vanjie reaches over and takes Brooke’s hand again. Their fingers lace together. Brooke has trouble remembering to breathe.

They hold hands all the way to the elevator, quiet. Brooke can’t shake the constant awareness of each move Vanessa makes, every time their arms rub together, the sudden pressure of Vanessa’s hip against hers as they squish into the elevator with the other queens and the remaining P.A.s. When they get to Vanessa’s floor, it’s all Brooke can do not to follow her out, hold hands down the hallway and press her up against the door of her room, get down on her knees and do anything, everything (get Vee off once with her mouth, and then take her to bed and eat her out until she’s begging to be fucked, and then -)

“Bye ladies,” Vanjie says as she exits the crowded elevator, followed by her P.A. A flicker of something crosses her face and she suddenly turns back around. “Oh shit, I forgot - hold the door.”

A P.A. stops the door from closing and Vanjie pushes her way back inside until she can grab Brooke and pull her down into a deep kiss, sloppy with tongue, noisy and wet and intoxicating. Brooke squeezes her eyes shut as the elevator erupts in cheering and whistling, puts her hands around Vanjie’s waist and holds her tight. If this is all they can have right now, Brooke is going to take advantage.

Much too soon, Vanjie drags herself away, lips swollen and shiny.

“Y’had something on your face, Hytes,” she says as she leaves again, and A’Keria wags her finger while Silky hollers.

Vanjie catches Brooke’s eye as the elevator doors start to close, and Brooke wants to rip her heart out of her chest and hand it over. Vanjie should have it, and she can do whatever the fuck she wants with it, Brooke doesn’t care. It’s not Brooke’s heart anymore. It stopped belonging to her a couple days ago.

Instead she smiles at Vanjie, struck dumb with affection, and Vanjie smiles back. The doors close and Brooke goes back to her room. She doesn’t turn on the lights on, doesn’t need to. She feels incandescent, shining bright enough to be seen from space.

And then the next day Snatch Game happens, and everything goes to hell.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #yvie oddly #branjie #angst #smut #canon compliant #elastic heart #mia ugly #tw binge drinking #tw anxiety #concrit welcome #submission #s11 #on set fic

72 notes · View notes

herespeyton · 5 years

Text

TAGGING → @mrcharlesjackson & @herespeyton

TIME FRAME → Sometime in the first week of June?? (I’m so slow at posting omg)

LOCATION → Karoke bar, NYC + Charlies Apartment.

WARNINGS → alcohol, nsfw (not really, but just in case)

NOTES → Charlie agrees to be Peyton’s wingman for the night + peyton vice versa. Neither go home alone. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

peyton

Peyton didn’t go out often — or ever, honestly. It was almost impossible to get out of the house with Lexi, and when the opportunity did arise she chose to sleep. While she didn’t know Charlie super well, he dated Willa a while ago and didn’t seem like a bad guy. She had spent the past hour going through her wardrobe trying to find something that didn’t look like she was a mom before deciding on a red dress she had last worn at least a year ago. She gave instructions to the baby sitter — though Lex was already asleep — and waited for the actor to arrive at her apartment.

charlie

Charlie was excited, he hadn’t been in a good while. He was finally on a better wave in his personal mood and ready to get out there and have fun. He had met Peyton a few times but that felt like a life time ago and Charlie was looking forward to getting to know her as an adult. She was always a very kind girl and she deserved the night out after all the hard work she constantly did. Plus he was sure being a single mom was exhausting and he wanted to help. Charlie decided on on a pair of dark blue fitted pants, a plain white T-shirt with a cream colored blazer to top it off. He had also shaved for the first time in weeks, leaving himself a nice stubbled beard. He checked himself in the mirror before spraying on a bit of cologne, grabs his wallet, phone and keys and was out the door on his way to pick up Peyton. Upon arriving he knocked gently on the door, waiting for the younger girl to answer.

peyton

Peyton straightened herself as she walked to the door, grabbing her keys and purse on the way past the side table. "Hey." She greets him, eyeing over the man she hadn't seen in... years. He honestly didn't even look like he'd aged from what she remembers. She shuts the door behind her and smiles warmly up at him. "You look very dashing." She says with with a nod. "Thanks for doing this... Hopefully I don't totally cramp your style." She says a little awkwardly.

charlie

“Holy shit.” Was the first thing to leave his mouth. “Holy crap, look at you, all grown up.” He grinned and clapped his hands together and he checked out the girl. “Well, thank you! You look incredible, Peyton... don’t worry about me, tonight is going to be fun! Also how can you cramp an old mans style.” He grinned and winked playfully. He gestures at her to follow him out. “So, I was thinking of going to that one pub on 3rd street. They have pretty good drinks and the people are friendly. How’s that sound? Or would you rather go to a club? It’s up to you.” He shrugged.

peyton

Peyton could feel her cheeks warm at the compliment, she was really quite terrible at taking them. "I don't know about that, but...um... thank you." She says softly before following the older man out of the apartment building. "You say that now, wait until all your fans are trying to get your number and I'm still around." She chuckles and bites down on her lip gently as she thinks about the options. "I think maybe starting at a pub might be a good idea?" She replies with a smile, not that she had a problem with lots of people, but easing into a social life sounded better than going head first into strobe lights and sweaty bodies.

charlie

Charles furrowed his brows in confusion, the girl didn’t seem to think so highly of herself, at least look wise. “Well I think you look beautiful.” He gave her a small smile. He chuckled and shook his head. “Please, if that happens please help me escape. Same goes to you, if there’s a guy or girl –I’m not sure your exact preference – But if someone is getting too rowdy or handsy or you just want out of boring conversation, I’m your guy.” He assures her. “Pub it is.” He grins as they continue to walk. “So, hows the single mom life treating you?”

peyton

"Oh don't worry, I have all sorts of creative excuses up my sleeve to get you out of awkward situations!" She laughs, pointing her finger for exclamation. Honestly she feels a little more relaxed knowing she had a get out of jail free card in case she ended up in the company of someone she really didn't want to be with. "I'll be the greatest wingwoman you've ever seen. Unless of course I see my cheese fries delivery man, in which case I'll have to follow my heart." She tells him with a smirk, and crosses her arms in front of her when they're outside. "Single mom life is every bit as glamorous as you'd imagine." She shrugs and looks up at him. "I mean, Lexi is the coolest kid ever, but it's sort of exhausting... But how are you anyway? It's been so long since I've seen you!"

charlie

Charlie raised a brow. “Oh, really?” He asked with a chuckle. The girl was definitely charming as he remembered her. “You’re gonna ditch me for cheese fries guy?” He pouted and then smiled. Charlie listened to the woman and nodded. He couldn’t imagine being a parent, let alone being a single parent. He was already past his prime and Charlie began to wonder if he’d ever have kids. “I see your posts, she’s freaking adorable, looks just like you.” He shrugged. “I’m.... all over the place I guess you could say. Things sort of flipped for me. I never expected to be on tv but here we are...” he tittered “But currently I’m good, I’m in a good place... it’s been, what, at least 10 years... you were still a kid.” He said incredulously. “Holy shit.” He laughed.

peyton

"What can I say, cheese fries guy and I had a real connection." She tells him, hand on heart and laughing. "She is pretty cute, right?" Peyton responds proudly. "I mean... She looks more like her dad, than she does me. But when she talks it's like having a mini-me around the place. Which... I'm not always sure is a good thing." The mom had a tendency to ramble when it came to her daughter... she should probably reign that in if she wanted to not come across as "just a mom" for the night. Peyton nods as he talks, eyeing him over again quickly before looking back ahead. "I don't read a lot of magazines, but I remember the day I read you were taking over the role in supernatural... That sort of stuff is just crazy to me." She says honestly, not imagining her life changing so dramatically... Though maybe she should now Sammy was involved in it. "I was a teenager thank you very much." She laughs. "But you look... almost exactly the same. How is that even possible?!"

charlie

Charlie rolled his eyes playfully. “You can do better than cheese fries guy. I promise.” He told her. “Oh she’s the boss, then.” He chuckles. “Wait... I thought you never knew the father...” Charlie asked curiously, not that he thought it was a bad thing, it happened. He sighed and smiled “Yeah, I still can’t believe it sometimes. It’s surreal. But I mean who knows if this will last with the show ending next year. Maybe I’ll go back to teaching.” He shrugged. He scoffed “You we’re a kid.” He teases with a small laugh. “I beg to differ... look at these crows feet!” He said pointing to the stinking around his eyes. “But I think it’s also my jeans.” He said literally as a joke, pointing to his pants.

peyton

"She is most definitely the boss. She knows what she wants." She said with a smile, nodding. "Umm..." Peyton didn't really know how to explain the Sammy situation without feeling like a bad parent, honestly. "I don't... I mean, I didn't. But he remembered, I guess?" She shrugs. "It's complicated." And right now even more so. "At least you still have enough year to decide? I might even be able to catch up on all twenty seasons before it comes back on again." She teases. "But I think it's lucky in a sense that you have that degree to fall back on, you know? Whatever happens you'll still have a career." She scrunched up her nose. "I was not a kid." She pauses for a second. "Okay, maybe I was... But I wasn't an annoying kid, right?" Peyton looks up at his eyes more closely when he points to them before shaking her head. "Nope, I stand by my comment. You've barely aged at all... it's the jeans, for sure. You're pulling them off perfectly."

charlie

Charlie chuckled and shook his head. “It’s okay, we’ll leave it at that.” He said talking about Lexi’s father. He pursed his lips and grinned. “Or you can just watch the last season I was in and we’ll call it even.” He shrugged “Oh totally, I’m not totally hopeless.” He smiled and sighed. “I mean you weren’t the most annoying kid I’d ever encountered.....” he teased and bumped her playfully. “But you’ve certainly grown into a gorgeous young woman. So not annoying anymore.” He spoke and batted his eyes at the compliment. “Now you’re just being nice and complimenting my ass which I’m not upset about.” He laughed. They soon arrived and Charlie held the door open for the woman. “What’s your drink of choice, first rounds on me.” He asked as they reached the bar.

peyton

Peyton smiled thankfully, relieved Charlie wasn't going to pry into the situation. It was meant to be a fun night, after all... Even if she felt out of her element the moment she stepped out of her apartment after 7 o'clock at night. She laughs. "You're only saying that now because I'm not wearing sweatpants... If you saw me on any other day that ends in Y i'd look like a wreck." She looked at the man's ass, not even really subtly and nodded with a grin. "I'm just being honest." Peyton placed her forearms on the bar, and smiled warmly at the male. "I'll just have a beer." A bi-product of spending so much time with her father growing up. "And that's awfully gentlemanly of you. Next is on me though."

charlie

Charlie raised a brow. “Oh, I bet you look even hotter in sweatpants.” He smirked and winked at her. He then got the attention of the bartender, asking for two draft beers. “What can I say? I was raised right and I’ll never miss the opportunity to buy a pretty girl a drink.” He got the beers and gave his card to the bartender. “Don’t worry about buying for me, it’s my treat, remember?” He said as he handed a beer to Peyton. “Cheers to trying to get laid.” He grinned.

peyton

Peyton smiles and looks around the bar, feeling just a little out of place. "It's a good thing you brought your card, there's like a lot of pretty girls around here to buy drinks for." She takes the drink and brings, and holds it comfortingly in her hands. "You need to let me repay you somehow though. I don't know how... But somehow." She laughs at his toast. "To trying to get laid." She repeats, bringing the beer to her lips. "So is there some sort of secret trick to this I need to be aware of?"

charlie

Charlie chuckles and looks around the bar. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” He shrugs and then shakes his head and places a firm hand on her shoulder. “Hey, were good. I’m serious.” He smiles and squeezes her shoulder gently before removing it. “Um, secret tricks? I’m not quite sure. Maybe just not trying so hard? A couple drinks will help with that to get initial jitters away.” He nods.

peyton

Peyton’s eyes briefly dart to the hand on her shoulder. With everything in her life being so delicate, it felt oddly comforting to have a touch that resonated strength for once. She smiles softly, and nods in concession. “Not trying so hard?” She arches her brow and looks at him with mock judgment. “That is terrible advice... I’ve spent the last three years not trying so hard and that’s gotten no where.” She replies with a short laugh. Not that she’d give up her life, but there were obviously times she wished she wasn’t always alone. Peyton lifts her glass and takes a few large gulps of beer. Liquid courage was a thing, right? “But you might be onto something with the drinks.” She admits with a giggle. “I feel like... umm... people are looking at you.” She tells him with an awkward tone as she feels a woman’s eyes piercing into her.

charlie

“Hey, I never said I gave good advice. I mean most of the time they come up to me, so....” he shrugged and chuckled softly. He absentmindedly touches her arm, something Charlie is just used to doing in general. He was a very affectionate guy and it showed. “Don’t worry, Just relax and finish your drink so we can have another. “He says with a gentle press to her arm. He raises his brow, “Me? Don’t worry about it, I’m not ditching you until we find you someone.” He finished his beer and places it back on the bar then beams at the girl. “How about a shot of tequila?” He suggests.

peyton

Peyton's eyes light up when he assures the girl he's not ditching her. The last thing she wanted was to be left alone with no idea what she was doing. "Thank you... But if some super model comes in and asks you to go home with her, I'm going to be disappointed if you don't get out there." She can't imagine what it must be like for Charles to be recognised everywhere he went, her nose crinkles even at the thought -- it sounds like her own nightmare, honestly. Personal space and privacy was what got Peyton through so much of her life's hiccups. She sculls back the rest of her beer, her eyes squeezing shut as it's been a long time since she's even attempted to do such a thing. But hey, she was still young... Maybe tonight she could feel it too. "Tequila?" Her first instinct was to shake her head, adamantly telling him the last time she had tequila she got pregnant, but instead she nods, finding herself feeling somewhat safe around the older male. "Can I sip it?" She jokes, leaning against the bar with her body facing him.

charlie

Charlie shakes his head, brushing her off. “There will always be more supermodels and honestly, not really my type.” He shrugged and then grinned at the girl gulping down her beer. “Nice.” He praises her. He returns his attention to the bartender and orders them 4 shots total. “No you can’t sip them. Cmon. You’re a big girl now.” He teases. The four shots are in front of them now, rimmed with salt and limes on the side. “Now, you don’t have to do both but it’s there if you’re up for it.” He assures her, picking up one of the shot glasses and holding it up to the one he hands her. “Cheers.” He grins and takes it back in one swing, immediately grabbing the second one and taking it as well. His face straight, not needing the limes.

peyton

"What is your type?" She asks more directly than she normally would. But if she was going to be a successful wing-woman she felt like this was important information to be aware of. Peyton's face grimaces slightly at the sight of the shots, but slides one of them close to her anyway. You only live once, right? "No sipping. Got it." She says quietly and turns her gaze to watch Charles down the alcohol so easily. "You make that look very easy." She comments with a chuckle before taking a deep breath, picking up the glass and downing her own shot. Peyton's eyes clench shut, her mouth twists, and she immediately grabs the lime to dull the burn in her throat. "Fuck." She mumbles but reaches for the second shot and does the same, the burn thankfully less intense this time around.

charlie

Charlie shrugs. “Girl next door, natural. I hate all that fake shit. Like cmon, do you really need the fake lips and Botox?” He asked feeling himself loosen up a bit more. “A girl who can handle herself and her alcohol and isn’t wasted on a fucking cranberry vodka.” He tells Peyton. Yeah, he definitely had a type. “I’ve had a lot of practice.” He shrugs, watching as Peyton takes her shots and chuckles. “Wow, you’re a trooper... I’m very impressed.” He raises a brow in delight and smiles. The noise around them had gotten louder and there was now music playing, more on the rock side. He leaned in closer with his hand on her shoulder so she could hear him. “How are you feeling?” He asked, just to make sure she was still in a good place.

peyton

“Thank you, thank you.” Peyton replies proudly, curtsying and proceeding to laugh at her terrible attempt at it. Her blood is slowly warming, and she can feel her muscles relax more with each passing minute. Her heart’s racing to the beat of the music, and honestly, she was okay with that. She pushes the empty shot glasses and used limes back towards the bartender, thanking him sincerely.Peyton leans into Charles touch, moving her ear closer to hear him properly. The combination of his warm breath on her skin and the tequila sends a shiver down her spine, her lips lighting a smile at the feeling. She nods and turns into him, closing the gap so now she could be heard. “I feel great.” She tells him. “So are you going to wingman me?” She asks with a half smirk.

charlie

Charlie chuckles at the charming girl. She was cute, beyond cute if you actually asked Charlie, but he figured nothing would never happen between them and honestly his intentions were completely pure, still he couldn’t help but slightly crushing on her in the moment. He’d blame the alcohol. “Great.” He smiles and looks around the room, realizing they had set up Karaoke tonight. His face immediately lit up. “Holy shit, yes.” He commented. “I forgot they did Karaoke here. Yes, I will wingman you but we need to sign up to sing first.” He said as he grabbed her wrist and dragged her through the crowd and towards the other side of the pub, looking for the signup sheet that was with the DJ.

peyton

Peyton's head tilts to one side, eyebrows raising when she realized what he was about to suggest. Before she could object his hand was on her writs and they were moving through the crowd. She grins, and holds onto him tightly, wanting to make sure she didn't lose him in amongst the people... Though, he was tall and masculine, she would probably be able to spot him if she did. "I think the sign up sheet is over there." She says letting go of his arm and resting her hand on the curve of his back, pointing to the board. "I'll do this, but I am not choosing a song! Unless baby shark or the paw patrol theme song is an option, my brain is useless." She jokes, moving to the sheet and looking up at the older male, lingering as she studies his features under the light in this part of bar. No wonder so many girls were staring at him. "Okay, what's your go-to karaoke song?"

charlie

Charlie hadn’t felt this full of energy in a while and it was exciting to him. He felt young and he loved it. Charlie looked into the direction the girl was pointing at and grinned. “Genius!” He exclaimed at her and kissed her head playfully before getting to the list. “You have to do Baby Shark. I dare you.” He laughs as he looks through the karaoke book. “Classic rock. Maybe a bit of AC/DC or Lynyrd Skynyrd — oh or Allman Brothers!” He says as he see the song he wants to pick. He then takes the pen next to the sign up sheet that’s fairly empty, writing down ‘whipping post by the Allman Brothers’ and his name, he then faces Peyton. “Do you wanna sign up?” He asked.

peyton

Peyton's cheek flush and she's momentarily thankful the pub is dark enough to hide it. She bites down on her lip to stop herself from grinning like a stupid school girl.Fuck. Was it sad that a kiss on the forehead was the closest she had really been to a man in a year? ... Probably. "Don't you dare me, Mr. Jackson." She smirks, her competitive nature coming out. "Whoa, look at you showing your age." She teases him a little on his song choice, flicking through the book. "I'll sign up." It might have been the alcohol talking, but it could be fun. "It looks like you might have to listen to me rock out baby shark another time, there's no option here." She lifts her shoulders in a shrug. "But I can do this." She points to the song and writes it down 'Let me Love you' by DJ Snake and Justin Bieber on the sign up song. "Does it show my age that I'm doing a song with Justin Bieber?" She asks with a short giggle.

charlie

Charlie raised his brows seductively, "Ooh, Mr. Jackson. Haven't been called that in a while." He teased her . "Shut up. I just know good music." He stuck his tongue out at her as she picked out her own song. He hovered over her, his arm around her shoulders as he watched her pick. "Justin Bieber? Really?" He judged her playfully. "I'm going to need another drink for this one, But i'm definitely holding you over on that whole listening to you sing Baby Shark." He laughed. "We definitely grew up in different worlds.... How do you feel about another drink? Or are we moving too quick for you?"

peyton

"Does it bring you back to your teaching days?" She asks with a chuckle, nudging him playfully. She felt relaxed around him, and honestly it had been some time since she could just be herself and not worry about her daughter. It was different... Actually, sort of great. "Justin Beiber is iconic!" She defends her choice, arching her brow at him. "You just wait... My rendition of Baby shark is legendary. Lexi prefers it to the original." She grins proudly, turning around to look at the crown before up again at Charles. "Too quick?" She scoffs. "You should see me during football season, I could probably drink you under the table." Or at least she used to be able to, but he doesn't need to know that that.

charlie

"Truly." He chuckles and bites his lip a bit. He raises his hands in defense as she defends herslef and he laughs. "Okay, okay! God you're cute when you're riled up." He lets slip but doesn't really make to much attention of it. "I can't wait to hear it." He smiles at her and nods. "That's fine, thats why I ask. and also somehow I believe you." He smiles and suddenly is hearing his name over the mic. "Oh, that was fast. Alright, I'mma sing and you stand here and look pretty and pick a dude out and I can wingman you. I mean unless you wanna be stuck here with me all night." He chuckled. "Be right back, darling." He says with a wink and makes his way to the small stage, giving himself a small introduction with his name and then proceeds to singing.

peyton

Peyton's lips press together, and now it not longer feels like her cheeks are warming but her whole face. Of course the man who used to date her older cousin thought she was cute. Probably the same way he and everyone else (rightly so) thought Lexi was cute. She's broken from her thought at the sound of Charles name on the speaker, and claps excitedly for him. "Break a leg." She still wasn't sure if that was the correct musical theatre reference that Jaxon had taught her, but she was going for it. She moves to the front of the crowd cheering obnoxiously loudly for him when he introduces himself. She looks around the room only for a moment looking for someone she might be interested in, but then the actor starts singing and it's hard to put her attention anywhere. He was good...really really good. She sways absentmindedly with the music, happily content with being by herself and listening to his voice. How she could possibly follow this, she didn't know.

charlie

The thrill that Charlie got when he sang was like no other. He loved it and he also liked the attention if he was being honest. It felt good to have people cheering for you and it was even better seeing Peyton in the crowd supporting him. Once he was done he thanked the crowd, getting a few high-fives as he went through the crowd back to the younger girl. “Did I do okay?” It was an honest question and he valued her opinion greatly. “I need another beer.” He chuckled. Then they were calling her name and she was up. “Go kick it in the ass.” He smiled at her reassuringly and runs he arm.

peyton

She watches him emerge into the crowd, shaking her head in awe of how insane he just was. "Are you kidding?" She asks him, her tone still full of the disbelief she was feeling. "If every girl in here didn't already want you, they do now." She joked with him, though honestly kind of seriously. "I can see why you want to go into music." She tells him, reaching out her hand to touch is arm softly to show sincerity. "Me too-" Her heart just about jumps from her chest at her own name, she really hadn't expected Charles to be quite that good and even the thought of following that made her ridiculously nervous. She puts her hands in her face for a second. "I did not have enough tequila for this." She laughs and smiles at him before making her way up to the spot he stood just moments ago. Not quite as confident as the other, she quietly introduces herself, takes a deep breath -- or three -- before starting to sing.

charlie

Peyton was extremely sweet and Charlie felt warm and fuzzy. Both from the compliments and the alcohol. He brushes off her compliment, beyond contrary belief, Charlie didn’t really care for people throwing themselves at him. He liked getting to know people, although he was guilty of having one night stands of course but it was always more to him. Right now, no other women really interested him in the bar except Peyton , not that he would tell her unless she actually showed interest in him. He didn’t want to ruin her night. He gives her another reassuring smile and a thumbs up once she hits the stage. He cheers for her to help her confidence and listens as she sings and ‘oh crap’ she’s actually good. He had no clue she actually knew how to sang. It was almost angelic and Charles was really enjoying it. He’s still watching her until he feels a tap on his shoulder, he turns to see an attractive blonde behind him, trying to buy him a drink and inviting him to leave with her. Charlie politely declines and the girl rolls her eyes as she leaves, not that Charlie really cares and his attention just falls back on the singing girl.

peyton

Thanks in part to the alcohol, and in part to seeing Charles in the audience she can feel herself starting to relax. She starts to sing, pretending she was in the shower and rarely looking anywhere other than the male in the crowd... Singing to someone she knew felt a whole less daunting than singing to a bar full of strangers. She hands the mic back to the man on stage and scrunches her face in a I-can't-believe-i-just-did-that way before quickly returning back to her date for the night in the crowd. "Now can we get a drink?" She asks, resting her forehead on the male's arm as her heart returns to a normal pattern.

charlie

Charlie cheers as she finished her song and opens his arms for her and she comes to him. “You did incredible!” He says excitedly as he hugs her tightly. He nods. “I think we can.” He smiles as he pulls away from the hug but wraps an arm around her, leading her back to the bar. “Hey, two more drafts for the lady and I.” He calls out to their same bartender. “So, I didn’t know you could sing like that.” He told the girl. “Like, hun. Woah.” He says with a grin. He takes the new glass of beer and takes a refreshing gulp. “I’m glad you came out tonight, Pey. I’m having a better time than I imagined.” He tells her sincerely.

peyton

Perhaps it was the adrenaline from singing in public -- something she'd not done since she was in high school -- or perhaps it was the effects of the tequila -- though she was feeling quite sober right now -- but there was something about the older man's arms that were so comforting. They were strong. God, they were so strong. She felt giddy... even if she knew she probably shouldn't. "Thank you." She says reaching for the drink and taking a few decent sips to calm her post karaoke nerves. "I'm not sure about whoa. You are whoa.... But thank you." She says humbly. She leans in closer to him to hear his words clearer. "I'm glad I came out too." She comments, looking into his eyes and not able to stop her gaze from making their way to his lips for a moment. "I'm sorry I haven't found you anyone to go home with yet." She says into his ear, and chews on her lower lip realizing she wasn't actually all that sorry at all. "I mean... I've enjoyed your company."

charlie

Charlie licks his lips, feeling them a bit dry. “You’re definitely woah.” He tells her as he gets closer, he could feel jitters and it was weird but exciting at the same time. He stares back at her eyes and he notices the small glance to his lips and he feels himself blush. “I don’t think I mind at all.” He says genuinely and bites his lip gently. His desire to kiss the girl suddenly grows and keeps growing. “I’ve more than enjoyed your company.” He replies.

peyton

Despite the sensible and usually overpowering voice in her head reminding her that he was older and she was nothing but cute in his mind, Peyton takes a step closer, the gap between them becoming almost non-existent. "I think I'm content with your company for the rest of the night." She says boldly, feeling goosebumps run down her arms at how close and intimate his breath was starting to feeling as her face moved slowly closer to him. She wanted to give him time to move away, to say no. "Because you're whoa." She says in a whisper at this point, before closing the gap between their lips completely, ignoring her better judgement, and giving into her instincts telling her to kiss him.

charlie

He can feel his own breaths getting shallow the closer they got and his heart pounding fast. He felt young again. “Yeah?” He questioned with a smile, a small laugh escaping his lips before he felt hers press against his. There was a connection there and Charlie could feel it, strongly. He smiled into the kiss, his rough hand reaching behind her neck, tangling gently into her hair as the kiss got more heated. So perhaps the feeling was mutual but perhaps it was the alcohol and Charlie didn’t know which one it was but in the moment he didn’t mind. After a few steamy moments, the man pulls away to take a breath. “Woah, indeed.” He laughs, pushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I don’t think we need any wingman’s tonight.” He announces.

peyton

Peyton felt electric and addicted, like she could keep kissing these lips for the rest of the night and still crave them. She hooks her fingers behind him in the space between his belt and his jeans, her cheeks blushing and her toes curling at the way their lips connected. "You don't think?" She ducks her head, suddenly feeling more nervous than she was when they were a few moments ago. But she can't bring herself to put more space between them. Not if it was going to remind him that she really wasn't the person he should be doing this with. "Now what?"

charlie

Charlie watched the bashful girl and smiled. “Hey, were good.” He says gently. His hand caresses her cheek before pulling her into another kiss. It was definitely a sobering moment and as freaked out as Charlie had been in the past about age, he didn’t care. There was something about Peyton, and he really liked her. “What do you want to do? We could stay here, have a few more drinks... We could go find something to eat if you’re up for that... we could also go back to your place or mine. No pressure, of course.” He suggests. He didn’t want her to think that just because they kissed he was expecting anything more from the girl. He would do whatever she wanted to do, after all it was her night.

peyton

Peyton looks around briefly, feeling eyes on her from people who clearly knew Charles but had no idea who she was. “Let’s get out of here.” She smiles, leaning in boldly to steal another kiss from the older gentleman. “Umm... Do you have beer at your place?” She asks, taking back her hands and running her fingers nervously through her hair. With Lexi in bed and a baby sitter staying the night, she knew she couldn’t go back to her apartment. But Peyton was a homebody and felt much more comfortable in a place where she didn’t have to worry about a room full of people she didn’t know. she also wouldn’t mind being alone with Charles. “No pressure.”

charlie

Charlie nods. “Alright, your wish is my command.” He leaned into her kiss and turned back to the bartender, asking for the tab. “I believe I have a few.” He confirmed with the girl. He signed the tab, leaving a hefty tip and grabbed his card so they could leave. He smiled at the girl and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Lets get out of here.” He tells her as they leave the bar and start walking to their destination. It’s a little chilly when they exit and with Peyton in a small dress, he can imagine how much colder the girl was. He removes his arm from her to take off his blazer and drape it over her shoulder to make sure she was warmer. “As hot as you look in your dress, I’d rather you not freeze and my place is at least 10 more blocks from here.” He chuckles softly.

peyton

Peyton still feels like she shouldn't be letting Charles pay for everything, but before she could object it was done and they were leaving the bar. Which honestly she's thankful for, she was having fun, but most of that was due to the company she was keeping. The cool air of the New York night sends a shiver down her spine almost instantly, and even more so when the warmth of his arm was removed from her shoulders. She was getting accustomed to that arm. "That's very sweet. Thank you" She says sincerely, smiling cheerily. "You really think I look hot?" She asks, still feeling the courage of alcohol. "Not cute?" She adds with a laugh.

charlie

Charlie laughed. “Oh definitely hot. Almost as hot as me.” He teases her. He was definitely aware of how attractive he was and of his assets and for the most part he was humble about it except when he didn’t have to. “Cute was my cover up, okay? I wasn’t exactly sure if you were interested.” He explained himself. “But you are cute. Very cute but in a sexy way.” He grinned, his arm returned to wrap around her. “So, tell me. How is a pretty girl like you still single. I mean I know time is an issue and you have your daughter but there has to have been some guys after you. You’re a total catch.”

peyton

“I can accept that.” Peyton side eyes him, smirking slightly. If she looked like the actor she’d probably say the same thing. He’s the type of man that humbly demanded attention without saying a word. It was hot. “Oh is that so?” She chuckles, leaning into his side a little more. “Well you’re pretty cute in a sexy way too.” Peyton teases. “Ahh... Not really.” She answers honestly and shrugs her shoulders. And if there were, she was probably too tired to pay attention. “ I haven’t been looking to be fair, Lexi comes first. I just want to make sure she can have everything in this world... which means I’m either working or spending time with her.” She pauses and sighs quietly. “Sometimes I feel like since it’s just me that I somehow I have to be twice the parent? Like I have to be there twice as much, and take on every role so she never feels like she missed out.” She shakes her head, realising she suddenly got kind of deep and that was definitely not sexy. “How are you possibly still single anyway, Mr. Jackson?

charlie

Charlie’s furrowed his brows and looked at the girl. “What are you talking about? You’re nice, you’re smart, you love animals, you’re an incredible mom.... I mean the way you talk about Lexi and all you do for her, it’s admirable. She’s going to really appreciate it one day.” He nods at the girl with a smile. “I uh- I recently went through a break up a few months ago. It just wasn’t working out and I was also just going through a lot at the time, still sort of am... but I’m going to therapy and taking medication.... Yeah I know, not what you expected from Mr. tv star.” He shrugged, hoping he hadn’t ruined it with his over sharing.

peyton

“You’re a sweet talker.” She grins. It was nice having someone remind her she was doing the right things for Lexi, she spent for more nights awake worrying it was for nothing than she’d ever admit. Peyton looks up at him as she listened intently to what he was going through, smiling sympathetically. “I learned a long time ago that things aren’t often what you’d expect.” She tells him, pausing and stopping them both on the side walk to look at him properly. “I think you’re brave.” Her tone was sincere and she stretches up to press a chaste kiss against his lips.

charlie

Charlie shrugs “I’m just being honest. You just happen to be a sweet person.” Sharing things about himself scared Charlie. It was probably the number one problem he had with Josh but he was trying to fix that and let people in. They stop and it pulls him out of his thoughts, her words make him smile. He wraps his arms around her waist and leans into her. “Now who’s the sweet talker?” He grins. “I think you’re brave. Taking all you take on, being a single mom... working so hard... you’re incredibly brave.” He responded.

peyton

Peyton blushes, pressing her lips together to stop herself smiling stupidly. “Still you.” She muses with a chuckle. Was it possible for someone’s heart to beat from their chest? Because with her body this close to Charles she felt like it was about to happen any moment. It might have been alcohol, or the fact he was the first person who’s peaked her interested this much in a year, but she felt like a school girl right now — though she hopes he doesn’t think of her too much like that considering that’s what she was she last time they met. “Come on. You must be freezing without your jacket.” She says, reaching for his hand and intertwining her fingers with hers.

charlie

Charlie laughs and shakes his head. It had been a very long time since he felt this attraction to a person, not just physically but there was definitely an unspoken chemistry that the two shared and Charles let himself go along with it. He was enjoying himself so much and he didn't want this night to end. He squeezes her hand and bumps into her playfully as they walked in silence, a good kind of silence. So enough they were at Charlie's building. He remembered a time when he had to work two job 24/7 just to afford to live here and now, it wasn't even something he thought about. "This is me." He smiles as he lets go of her hand to punch in the security code that let them into the building. "Codes 1218, just in case you ever need it." He tells her as he leads her to the elevator in the nice lobby. It was one of the nicer apartment complexes in the area and he lived in one of the bigger apartments with his best friend. "Also I have a roommate but i believe she's out of town so, we're good."

peyton

"Wow." The word had quietly escaped her lips before she had a chance to stop it. She knew places like this existed in New York, but she'd never once stepped foot in an apartment building that felt like it could be out of a film. "You don't need to tell me your code." She ducks her head, smiling and shaking her head. She can't stop her eyes from gazing around the foyer, and even the elevator was... well it was working which was a step up from her apartment building. An apartment building like this made her feel... small. "I have a roommate too." She jokes. "Except she is very much in town." She squeezes onto his hand. "So do you film Supernatural in New York or?" She asks, genuinely curious.

charlie

Charlie chuckles at her joke. “You’re funny.” He pulls her in and kisses her as he presses the button for the elevator. Once inside he presses the button for the 15th floor. “I film upstate, so yes, New York just not in the city.” He tells her, the elevator stops at his floor and he leads the young lady to his door. He pulls out his key and opens the door. “Welcome to my humble abode.” He grins and holds the door open for her. His apartment was definitely more on the homey side, not as luxurious as people would expect but he did have a large tv, something he really wanted to splurge on.

peyton

Peyton shushes him, smiling against his lips when they kiss. "I umm..." She feels slightly light headed after kissing him and tries to remember how to think straight. "I haven't been to upstate New York. What's it like?" She asks, following him into his apartment and looking around in awe again. It wasn't as 'fancy' as the foyer, but it was at least double the size of her small New York apartment. "I'm glad you didn't see my apartment." She jokes, bumping his side playfully as her eyes to scan the room. "Can I be honest?" She turns to him, hand still holding his for comfort.

charlie

Charlie bites his lip, “Gorgeous. Upstate is amazing. Full of trees and large open space. The air is fresh and you can actually breathe.” He explains. “I’m sure your apartment is great.” He responds to her. “I think I’d prefer if you were honest with me.” He tells her with a small squeeze of her hand.

peyton

"I miss being able to breathe freely." Peyton comments, thinking back to what it was like on the farm where there was nothing but space and fresh air. "I'm sure I'll get there one day." She takes a deep breath, her eyes fluttering shut for a second before speaking. "I have no idea what I'm doing." She admits with a giggle. "I know the intention was to find me someone to... You know, but I don't know if I'm that person?" She ducks her head, feeling her cheeks warm with each word she speaks. "Do you think we can we just... drink beer?" And make out. But she leaves that last part out incase by taking the offer of sex off the table he was no longer going to be interested in spending time with her.

charlie

Charlie squeezes her hand again reassuringly. “I don’t think we ever really know what we’re doing... we just do what feels right, y’know?” Charlie frowns a bit but not because he’s disappointed but because he never wanted the girl to feel uncomfortable around him. “I told you back at the bar, no pressure. Meaning we won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with...” He offers her a smile. “So beer... and perhaps food? I’m a little hungry to be honest.” He suggests.

peyton

Peyton breathes a silent sigh of relief. She was human... of course she wanted him like. But the last time she had a drunk one night stand, she got Lexi. So, it was pretty obvious the universe was trying to tell her she wasn’t built that way. She nods. “I know, I know.” Her tone is soft, and she’s trying to stay upbeat but she saw the way he frowned when she said she didn’t want to sleep with him and she felt guilty. “I’m still sorry... I probably should have let you find that supermodel, hey?” She says with a chuckle, pulling back her hands and moving her hair behind her ears. “Oh my goodness, yes! Food sounds amazing.” She comments excitedly, taking off the man’s jacket and placing it gently on his side table. “Please tell me there’s not like a private chef in here or something?” She teases.

charlie

Charlie shakes his head at her. “Hey, don’t be sorry. Believe it or not, I prefer when people aren’t throwing themselves at me.” He assures her. “I just want you to be comfortable, Pey. Sex isn’t the be all end all. At least not to me. I mean, sure it’s fun but I’m not that superficial.” He laughed. “No private chefs, although my roommate is a pastry chef so there’s probably some form of cake in the fridge and there should be left over Chinese.” He tells her with a smile, coming up behind her and rubbing her shoulders.

peyton

Peyton chews a little at the inside of her lip, thankful she had ended up here and wasn't having the 'I don't think I can sleep with you tonight' talk to a total stranger. Even if it had been ten years since she'd last seen Charles. Her eyes follow the older gentleman's movement, her face bright when his hands fall on her shoulders. "You're making it hard to think about food." She giggles, cocking her head to the side. "But it's hard to say no to cake and chinese food. Especially cake made by a pastry chef... Let her know if she ever needs a new room mate." She jokes.

charlie

Charlie chuckles and kisses the side of her neck before leading them to the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge as he pulls out half an eaten chocolate cake and then pulls out the carton of chicken fried rice. “Are you trying to keep me all alone in this apartment?” He asked with a smirk. He throws the carton into the microwave to warm it up and as it does he also pulls out another couple beers, opening one for Peyton and himself. “Here.” He smiles.

peyton

"Don't I already have you all alone in this apartment?" She asks with a teasing tone, turning to look around the apartment. "Unless your apartment is haunted and you left that part out." Peyton takes the beer from his hand, smiling thankfully and bringing it to her lips before speaking. "My daughter would love your television, by the way." She comments, thinking back to seeing it when they first walked in. "She'd think she was actually in Jurassic Park." Peyton couldn't help it, she was always going to be that person who brought up her kid.

charlie

“Maybe, who knows.” He shrugs teasingly. “Kidding, yeah you do have me all alone, right now.” He chuckled and sips his beer. “You should bring her over sometime, make a movie night out of it.” He offers the girl genuinely. He wouldn’t mind having a little one around. He laughs at the Jurassic park comment. “That’s adorable.”(edited)

peyton

Peyton is a little taken back by the offer, but figures she'll go with it. She wasn't the type of person to hold him to it if in the morning he was sober and regretted the decision to spend more time together. She nods. "I'm sure she'd love that." She responds, leaning against the bench and crossing her feet in front of her. "She's sort of obsessed with dinosaurs." Peyton smiles widely and pulls out her phone, navigating to the gallery and scrolling through the photos while leaning in next to him to show the multitude of dinosaur related pics. "This... Probably isn't what you want to talk about." She blushes and realises this wasn't exactly sexy talk. "Sorry." Peyton locks her phone, smiling bashfully. "Habit."

charlie

Charlie leans into her and looks at the pictures with a soft smile. “She’s very cute.” He chuckled. The microwave beeps and Charlie carefully takes the food out of it. He grabs a couple chopsticks from his drawer and leads them back to the living room. “What? You’re fine, hun. I mean Lexi is like 90 percent of your life. I get it.” He nods and sits on the comfortable couch. “Come, get comfortable.”

peyton

"Probably more like 95 percent... The other five percent are animals." She laughs. He might not get it personally, but at least he wasn't making her feel like a crazy person. She follows him to the couch sitting down next to him with her legs folded underneath her and places the beer carefully on the table in front of her. "Okey dokey." Her eyebrows raise when she takes the chopsticks from him, biting her lip in concentration as she works out how to hold them in her fingers for the hundredth time in her life so she can actually eat the food. She giggles softly, still a little buzzed from the alcohol and attempts to try and pick up the food for it to only fall immediately back into the box. "Is now a good time to mention I can't use chopsticks to save my life?"

charlie

Charlie watches the girl take the first bite and fail and it’s the most charming thing he’d ever seen. He laughs at the young girl and shakes his head, grabbing his own chopsticks and picking at the dish and then holding it to her mouth. “Here.” He offers in between chuckles. “God, you’re cute.” He tells her. “I can grab you a fork.” He offers.

peyton

Peyton looks at him with appreciation when he offers her food with his own chopsticks, taking it happily. "You're so kind." She muses quietly, cheeks flushed with slight embarrassment. "There you go again using the c word." She laughs, nudging him playfully. "Oh it's okay... We're already sitting down. And I sort of don't want you to move?" She says leaning forward and picking up the beer from the table to sip it.

charlie

Charlie bites his lip with a chuckle. “I can’t help it. You are the epitome of sexy cute.” He shrugs as though it was obvious. He takes his own bite of food and smiles with his mouth closed, savoring the food. “Mm. Chinese always taste better the second day I swear.” He moans. “Oh so you just wants me to feed you all night?” He raises a brow suggestively and grins.

peyton

Peyton shakes her head, her lips pressed together in a smile. "That's not... no." She replies, laughing. "I'm going to ban you from saying it." She can't stop her eyes from travelling to Charle's lips as he talks, the innocent sounds he's making as he does definitely isn't helping. But Peyton really didn't want to lead him on, so instead she quickly diverts her eyes, picking at the label of the beer bottle in her hands. "I mean, you're clearly the expert chopsticks user here... And you wouldn't starve me, would you?"

charlie

Charlie rolls his eyes. “Fine. I won’t compliment you anymore. Is that what you want?” He raises his brow, questioning. He grins “I would never let you starve.” He picks up another mouthful and offers it to her. He sighs happily and it’s almost weird to him how easy this is. How... natural it feels for him to tell her how he’s feeling. “I had a really great time with you tonight. Hell, best time I’ve had in a while...You’re really easy to talk to and it’s usually hard for people to have me let them in like this... Maybe it’s the meds, cause I know it’s not the drinks.” He shrugs.

peyton

“No... I mean, yes.” Peyton crinkles her nose, her flustered laugh filling the air. “Shhh, you make it hard to think straight.” Or maybe it was alcohol, but either way she was struggling with sentences right now. “I just mean, the last time you saw me I was... young. And I guess when you call me cute I feel like you still see me as the heart eyed schoolgirl.” She brings the beer up to her lips, taking a couple of long gulps before holding out her hand defensively. “Not that I was a heart eyed school girl for you. But yeah.” Her voice trails and she turns to eat the food he was offering, humming happily as she did. “I had a really good time with you too.” She says genuinely when her mouth was empty. “Thank you for coming out with me tonight.”

charlie

Charlie bit his lip and laughed quietly at the girl as she stammered. He took in what she said and tilted his head just a bit, his eyebrows raising. He set the food down on the table “I can definitely... assure you that I don’t see you as a heart eyed school girl.” He spoke quietly, seductively as his hand began to trail on her leg, just soft traces. “I can also prove it.” He says whispering into her ear. He’s not expecting this to go any further because of her asking earlier but he liked to tease and he would stop if she asked. “Maybe another time though, when you’re up for it.” He assures her as he pulls back, hand and all.

peyton

Peyton’s heart suddenly felt like it was about to beat out of her chest again as she watches the way his eyes change from sweet to sexy. “Y-yeah?” She stumbles, far too distracted by his hand to speak fluently. Her eyes flutter shut briefly and before she can even try and find words he’s pulled back, and faint groan escapes her lips. “Okay. Point proven.” She swallows, her lips twisting really not knowing what to say in this situation. “Maybe another time.” She quietly repeats his words with a small smile. Even somewhat tipsy Peyton knew she wouldn’t give in to sleeping with him, as much as she may want to right now.

charlie

Charlie smiles at her, his hand back on her shoulder in a friendly and comforting manner. “Hey, relax. I’m just teasing you. How about a movie to go along with our food and drinks? Or tv show? Whatever your preference might be?” He asks her as he grabs the remote from the side table, turning on the tv. “What do you want to watch?” He asks her with a simple smile.

peyton

"Anything without dinosaurs." She responds with a serious smile. "And nothing that could possibly be featured on Nick Jnr." Peyton's skin was still buzzing from where Charles hand had been, and her lips still tingling from kissing him earlier. He might not see her as a heart eyed school girl, but that's how she felt around him. God, she wanted to kiss him again. "But I'll leave the executive decision on what to watch up to you... Try not to show your age too much though." She teases, getting more comfortable on the couch and resting her head against the male.

charlie

“Dinosaurs, hm.” The only dinosaur movies he was really aware of were the Jurassic Park and world movies and he had the newest one on digital so he shrugged and started playing it on the tv. “Old jokes, very funny.” He said sarcastically with a playful chuckle. He wrapped an arm around the girl, getting comfortable with her. “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom it is.... although I really should let you suffer through all the supernatural seasons.” He raises a brow.

peyton

Peyton lifts a brow when Jurassic Park starts playing, and she realizes he only heard half of what she had said. She smiles to herself, honestly not really caring at this point. She'd seen the film about a hundred times, but that just meant she didn't need to focus -- which was probably a good thing because it was sort of hard to do when he was around. "After karaoke I had to." She teases. "Honestly, I don't think I'm emotionally prepared to sit through all thirty seasons of supernatural." She comments, resting her hand on his leg and tracing her fingers absentmindedly over the fabric of his jeans.

charlie

Charlie hadn't even realized the 'out' part of without when he put the movie on. He even found it weird that she would still want to watch these movies when her daughter watched them all the time. But maybe she missed Lexi and wanted to feel close to her. He didn't question it. "It's only 14 and honestly I'd only make you watch the one i'm in sooo only one." He chuckles and kisses the top of her head. The fingers tracing his leg definitely being felt and even giving him a small set of chills. He bit his lip, trying to think of unsexy things so he wouldn't suddenly get hard in her presence. It wasn't entirely working.

peyton

“Only 14?” She giggles, shaking her head. “I can’t just watch your season... I grew up watching Gilmore Girls, I’m gonna be watching for Dean.” She teases him and looks up at his face, her eyes lingering on his features. He was so pretty. “Do you want to kiss me?” She asks in a bold moment. “Because I don’t think I can watch anything when it’s all I’m thinking about.”

charlie

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, I had to watch all of them for research. Ackles was a talented fella." He shrugs. "Ah, so you're a Padalecki fan. Alright, i get it. I guess he is pretty." He rolled his eyes and then her question peaks his interest. "I would love to kiss you, Pey." He says gingerly as he grabs onto her waist and turns her towards him, partially on his lap. "Are you going to kiss me now?" He asks her with a smile.

peyton

Peyton gasps a little under her breath when he turns her, her cheeks warming and her heart racing something crazy. She nods, though she knows it's probably a hypothetical question. "Definitely". She murmurs against his lips before closing the gap and letting her lips fully immerse themselves in his. The taste of beer on his tongue feels more alcoholic than all the drinks she'd had earlier in the night. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, her fingers twisting into the back of hair and tugs gently as she tries to deepen the kiss between them.

charlie

Charlie smiles into the kiss as he pulls her in closer, his arms wrapping around her upper thighs making her dress ride up, his hand resting on the swell of her ass. The tug on his hair makes him squeeze her ass instinctively and moan mildly, it also wasn't really helping his problem from before. He let her into the kiss, his mouth parting and soon there were lips and tongue and it was getting hotter and hotter. Charlie wasn't exactly sure where this was leading but he trusted that the girl would stop them if she didn't want to go any further.

peyton

It had been so long since Peyton had felt this close to someone, in so many senses of the word. With their bodies flush together she wasn't sure how she was meant to stop herself from going further with this man. In this second she wasn't sure if she wanted to. She grinds against his hips in response to his moaning, feeling him hard against her and smirking against him for a moment. Spending day in and day out either covered in crayons or animal fur wasn't a recipe for feeling sexy, but Charles? Charles made her feel sexy. She moves one hand from his hair, trailing it down his body, wanting more and more to touch him everywhere.

charlie

The longer this went on, the harder it was for Charlie to control himself and let her take the lead. If it was up to him the would already be in the bedroom with less clothing. He wanted more, of course he did, but he was anxious to upset the girl by going too far. Their hips crashing together, has him groaning softly in her mouth, he pulls away from her lips briefly to attach his lips to her neck. "You keep doing that and I don't know if i'll be able to control myself." He warns in a deep gritty voice.

peyton

"Maybe I don't want you to control yourself?" She feels herself moan, her eyes closing as his lips explore her neck. But she was drunk, and she didn't do this... She just didn't know how to put that into words right now. She didn't want to be that girl, the one who went home with someone, led them on and then left them disappointed and angry. Her breath hitches in her throat, and she hesitates for a moment before finding his lips with hers again.

charlie

Charlie can almost feel the hesitation in her body. The desire to be with someone this intimately was always strong in most people and Charlie understood that. He also wasn't as intoxicated as the young girl was and he didn't want to take advantage of her vulnerability and desire when she had clearly stated earlier that she didn't want to do this. He stopped them, his hand coming up to cup her cheek so he could look at her. "Are you sure you want to do this? We don't have to." He tells her quietly. "I don't want you to feel pressured even if this is something I want>" He tells her honestly because of course it's something he wants.

peyton

Peyton brings her hand up to cover his gently on her cheek, she wants to say yes. But she can't. She takes a deep breath, her heart thudding so hard she was sure he could hear it, and she shakes her head. "It's not you." She whispers sincerely leaning in so her forehead was touching his. "I'm human, and you're... gorgeous. But no. This isn't me." As much as she wants it to be. "I'm sorry." She breathes, sliding from his hips to sit next to him. "I can go..."

charlie

Charlie nods and catches her lips in a chaste kiss before she slides off. "You don't have to apologize, Peyton." He assured her with a soft yawn. "Do you want to leave? Cause I rather like your company, just let me take a quick shower? Take a breather for a moment before we try to jump our bones again." He chuckles and squeezes her arm.

peyton

She presses her lips together, smiling awkwardly. "I should probably leave." She says with a shrug. "Lexi is going to wake up in about four hours and I should try and get some sleep before then." She chuckles, leaning in and kissing his cheek softly. "But thank you for taking me out tonight... And bringing me back here. You're really sweet." She muses, tucking her hair back behind her ear. "Don't be a stranger." Peyton stands up, her dress falling back to where it was before making out.

charlie

Charlie can't help but be a bit disappointed that she's leaving, but he wasn't going to argue with her especially when she mentioned her daughter. He stands with her and nods, "Don't worry about it, anytime." He smiles at her. "Let me walk you home at least..." He offers as he grabs a sweater that was lying on the small chair in the room and hands it to Peyton. " Here, it's cold outside."

peyton

Peyton wasn't going to turn his offer, partly because it wasn't a brilliant idea to walk home by herself at this time in New York city, but mostly because she selfishly wanted to spend more time with him. She bites her lip timidly, taking the sweater and slipping it over her head. It was sort of huge on her, but it was warm and oddly comforting. "What about your shower?"

charlie

Charlie grabs his blazer from before and slips it on, offering Peyton a smile. "Eh, The new York city air will work just the same." He winks as he discreetly tries to adjust himself, seeing that his pants felt tighter due to the obvious. "Ready to go?" He asks as he grabs his keys so they could leave.

peyton

She can't stop herself from laughing a little, suddenly realizing why he was going to have a shower in the first place. Admittedly she's sort of thankful it wasn't just an excuse for him to leave the room. "I'm ready." She says, nudging him playfully and walking to the door. Still sort of in awe about how cool his apartment was. "I think I'm going to keep this sweater, by the way." She teases as she hugs it into her chest.

charlie

Charlie looks at her when she laughs and chuckles with her. "I told you, you were hot." He reasons with her and bites his lip. "Alright, lets get out of here and get you home to your beautiful daughter." He smiles and grabs her hand. " You're keeping my cozy sweater? Maybe I'm just letting you borrow it." He raised a brow as they enter the elevator back down. "I want to do this again with you... Maybe I can take you to dinner next time?" He asks her.

peyton

The corners of Peyton's lips tug when he mentions her daughter, it wasn't going to be something most people would understand, but she kind of missed her already. She squeezes at his hand, lifting a shoulder into a half shrug. "Exactly. Borrowing forever." She jokes with him, knowing that she'd give it back once they got to her apartment. "You do?" She looks up at him with a raised brow. "You want me to be your wing-woman again... Because I don't think I did the job I promised."

charlie

“I think you did an excellent job.” He told her. “Plus, I don’t think I’ll need a wing woman anymore.” He smiles at her as they walked into the cold New York air. “Yeah, I want to take you on a proper date. If that’s something you want.” He lets her know. He was really into Peyton and while Charlie liked most people, he really never felt this sort of connection.

peyton

"Well thank you. I'll make a note to put "professional wing woman" on my resume" She tilts her head, swinging their arms a little in a way that she's used to doing with Lexi. "Though I'm not sure why any vet clinics would care about whether or not I can get a guy a girl's number." She chuckles, and tries not to act as taken back by Charles wanting to take her on a date than she actually is. "I think I'd like that, honestly."

charlie

He laughs “You’re funny. I like that.” Charlie sighs in relief when she says she would and he smiles. “Yeah, good. Cause I would love to take you out to dinner or breakfast or lunch. I know you’re a busy woman, so whenever you have time to fit me into your busy schedule then it works for me.” He smiles at her and brings her hand up to his lips to kiss it.

peyton

“I am busy, yeah, but you’re a tv star... somehow I think you might be just as busy as I am.” She tells him with a smile. “But I’ll check the incredibly unorganised calendar on my fridge and get back to you.” Peyton doesn’t want Charlie feeling bad in the morning if he decides she’s too young for him, or comes with too much baggage (even if her baggage was the world’s most beautiful girl), so she doesn’t commit to a day or time. That way there would be no awkward situation for him to try and get out of if he wanted to. Tonight wasn’t the night she had expected, honestly she’d thought maybe she’d just try and get one guys number have a couple of drinks and come home... but this was good. This was really good.

#para: night out #para: charlie #charlie

1 note · View note

qvestchen · 6 years

Text

Juice Cartons // Jaeyong NCT : Chapter Eight

Summary: Taeyong has never been jealous of anyone but lately, he can’t seem to get rid of the nagging spike of jealousy he feels whenever Jaehyun spends time with someone else. And as he often reminds himself, it’s not even as if they are dating. But maybe, just maybe, Taeyong could change that.

Author: qvestchen

Status: Completed

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12.

Juice Cartons // Jaeyong NCT

Chapter 8: Several phone games later

When Taeil had taken out the managers for dinner right after reaching the hotel, Taeyong had been too tired to even see the amount of winking and nudging that was going on between the members of “Jaeyong Drama Resolution” club. When Winwin suddenly started sneezing and begged Taeyong to get him some meds for his allergies, he had wanted to say that he had no idea about the shops here and seeing that Yuta was the local here, shouldn’t he…but looking at Winwin who was in what appeared to be huge discomfort and a worried Yuta clinging to his arm, Taeyong decided to go buy the meds without even having set foot in his hotel room.

It was when he returned and was told through the door that Winwin was asleep and Yuta wasn’t opening the door because there are ghosts around, hyung, that Taeyong started to wonder if his members were going crazy and whether he had been the victim of a prank. He was on his way to getting well and truly upset when he knocked on his own hotel room only to be informed by Doyoung and Johnny that they had locked themselves in and wouldn’t open because there are ghosts, huge horrifying ghosts in the corridor and maybe this one just sounds like Taeyong?

“You little shits, where am I supposed to stay?” Taeyong banged the door again.

“Just go to Taeil’s room,” Johnny had suggested.

This was how Taeyong found himself in the present room, except the bathrobe-clad figure in front of him was definitely not Taeil. It now dawned on him what the other members had planned and how easily he had been tricked.

Rubbing the back of his head that he had banged against the door when he had jumped back on seeing Jaehyun in the room, he ignored the way Jaehyun had looked up at the noise, towel still on his head and let out an, “Oh.”

Before Jaehyun could add anything to that oh Taeyong fished out his earphones and plugged them in, choosing to not indulge in an awkward conversation with this guy who obviously didn’t like him. He could imagine how the conversation would go. Jaehyun would coldly enquire what Taeyong was doing in his room. What would he reply to that? If he told him that he had been tricked by the other members would Jaehyun laugh at him? Worse still would Jaehyun believe him? What if he thought Taeyong was just using the opportunity to get close to him after the fight?

No, it was better to not have any conversation. It was just a matter of one night. He could handle that. Several phone games later, his phone’s battery was dying and he was forced to sneak a look at Jae.

Jaehyun was lying as far away from him as was possible on the double bed, his face lit up in the dark by the light from his phonescreen. He was texting someone, his expression changing from a frown to a slight smile as he typed back quickly and frequently.

Taeyong felt so far away from him and when he remembered just how close they used to be, sticking to each other’s side as Jaehyun would read aloud to him from whatever latest book he had picked up from the airport bookstands while he would complain that the narration was disturbing his game.

Who was he talking to? He felt disappointed at himself the second the thought floated in his mind. He switched off his phone and turned away, closing his eyes.

A very selfish part of him wished he had never met Jaehyun, wished he didn’t have a million confusing feelings for him, wished he didn’t look so soft and beautiful, wished he didn’t miss his loud laughter, wished he could be unbothered and smiling at his phone screen instead of playing farm games but mostly he wished Jae would say something, just anything.

It had all started because of that juice carton, to be honest. He should have just bolted then like his hammering heart had told him to.

Taeyong hummed to the song he was practising to as he reached for a juice box on the refreshments table, his hand colliding with someone else’s.

He immediately drew back, apologising, only to see the other person apologetically drawing back too. He had no idea who the other person was. Dark hair flopping over his forehead, ears slightly red, a hint of a dimple. He had never seen him here before but then he didn’t know a lot of people. He wasn’t really any good at the whole being social thing. He held out the juice box to the guy. “Here you go.”

The other boy seemed to be struggling with words but he shook his head slightly as he raised a hand. “No, it’s fine. You can have it. I’ll take one of the others.”

Taeyong looked in the direction he was pointing and inwardly cringed at the line of grape juice boxes. “This is the last mixed fruit one. The others are all grape-flavoured and those taste horrible.” He didn’t know why he couldn’t shut up, why he wanted to make this other boy as comfortable as he could, why his heart was beating so fast, why a part of him wanted to run away and why he knew he couldn’t. “You can have this one, it’s okay.”

“No, you have it. I mean, I can have the grape one.”

Turned out the very grape juice ones he disliked so much were his favourite.

And suddenly, Taeyong was drawing out the conversation, telling this newbie his name.

The newbie had a name. Jung Yoonoh. Taeyong nearly choked on his juice when Yoonoh caught him staring at him. He could feel his cheeks aflame. He nervously said, “Well, I guess, I’ll see you around, Yoonoh.”

He couldn’t practice at all that day. His mind was still on the boy he had met. He wanted to know him more. He considered going back to the refreshments table only to shake his head and remind himself that he was losing it if he started to behave this way. Most probably Yoonoh wouldn’t even remember him when they next met, if they next met.

Soon, Yoonoh began to be more familiar as Jaehyun. Jaehyun, Taeyong liked the name. Jaehyun was friendly, well-mannered and likeable. Very soon, the trainees were all friends with him and Taeyong was so scared of being just the ‘juice carton boy’ to him but maybe somewhere some magic existed because they continued to find themselves in each other’s presence. Jaehyun calmed him when he was nervous, took him for dinner to what quickly became their favourite restaurant when Tae forgot to eat, told him silly jokes and sang cheesy songs to him. Taeyong fell in love so fast, he didn’t even realize until there was no going back.

He must not have been asleep for more than a few minutes because he awoke to Jaehyun whispering into his phone in the dark. “Ten, stop sending me loud voice messages. I can’t find my earphones in the dark and Taeyong just fell asleep….No, shut up, pervert. He must be exhausted. Okay, I am hanging up. You’ll wake him otherwise and he won’t be able to go back to sleep easily….Go bug Johnny or Kun.”

Taeyong held his breath as Jaehyun locked his phone and the room was submerged into absolute darkness with only a sliver of light escaping from the bathroom door. So, Jaehyun had been messaging Ten. A tear ran down his cheek and he blinked in surprise.

Jaehyun pulled the covers towards his side of the bed as he stretched his body, yawning with sleep, leaving most of Taeyong’s body outside the covers. For a whole minute, there was no movement and then, Jaehyun got up with a small sigh, pulling the covers over Taeyong.

Taeyong went stiff at the gesture, listening to Jaehyun mutter how it was too small for the bed. Jaehyun shifted closer and finally, pulled the covers over his head and drifted off to sleep.

Taeyong lay unmoving in his position, acutely aware of Jaehyun’s body heat, wanting so much to reach to him but he didn’t even turn around and sometime in the night, he too fell asleep.

When he woke up, it was early morning and he was annoyed at himself for waking up before the alarm. He tried to change his position, his arm numb and heavy, only to realize that a sleeping Jaehyun was propped against his arm. His eyes widened when he realized that his arm was nearly holding on to Jaehyun. He removed his arm quickly, pushing Jaehyun away in the process.

Jaehyun murmured sleepily, “Go to sleep, Taeyongie,” before snuggling closer to him.

Taeyong sighed, looking at the ceiling. He got up slowly, trying not to wake up the sleeping boy and quietly, went out onto the balcony. He sat on the cold chair and began to write bits and pieces of words until lines of lyrics began to emerge on the back of the magazine he was scribbling on.

He read them again and sat back in his chair, smiling ruefully, before tearing out the page and crumpling it. He sounded like a lovesick idiot but then, he admitted to himself, that was exactly what he was.

Next chapter: Coming soon! + OMG guys we never know if anyone’s reading and enjoying this story so please comment you fav parts or anything you’d like to see in particular for this story and don’t forget to give a follow so that you don’t miss an update! Lots of love and happy jaeyong vibes ~~

Juice Cartons: Home, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12.

41 notes · View notes

gyeommine · 6 years

Text

MONSTA X as Roommates

wow sorry this has been a LONG absence. i am swimming in school work and deadlines atm so bear w me. my final exams are this year so i am trying my best love u all <3

(all gif creds to the original owners)

Shownu:

( AN ACTUAL ANGEL )

okay so he’s a typical male but he tries really really hard okay?

he’ll say he will do his chores, make his bed or do his laundry

but he’s a busy sweetie

so he’ll fall asleep in a crumpled duvet

and it melts your heart so you have to do it

and he’ll always thank you super sincerely where his eyes disappear into his face and honestly ur roommate is the most adorable human alive.

u always catch him being an actual dad

he’ll be in his favourite sofa crevice, scratching his chin w his arm up in that position the bois make fun of him for.

and you have to try with all your might to not burst out laughing

instead you send a picture to the mx groupchat.

it’s called tender blackmail.

he also falls asleep on the sofa a lot but u can’t move him so

another dad thing he does is that he’s lowkey super protective

he’s not often an emotional person so it’s quite well hidden

but he does worry if you’re home later than him and will probably call u.

and will let out a prominent sigh of relief when you respond

lets you wear the baggy shirts he doesn’t wear anymore or so he claims

it just makes him chuckle when his shirts completely drown you

you also get to see a v sincere side to shownu

you can clearly see how his performing on top of variety shows exhausts him (esp when he claims variety is not his thing)

but he’ll never snap at you when he’s like that

because he’s so sincerely appreciative of having you around

but doesn’t disguise his dumbness

you guys can’t have many expensive ornaments

bc he’ll go to thoughtfully polish it to cheer you up

and end up breaking it

he’s a literal sweetheart that tries so hard, love him please

Wonho:

(wOW i would protecc this man w all my heart. purest)

he would be the sweetest roommate in th world

even tho he’s busy 24/7

he’ll sometimes randomly buy you your usual coffee

or he’ll see you’re almost out of milk or something

where he’ll promptly restock so you don’t have to

he’s incredibly thoughtful

it makes you a lil sad sometimes when he’s particularly busy

bc you miss him like crazy

but when he gets the chance, he makes sure he hangs out w you and dedicate some set time to his best friend

bc he really appreciates you

you’re both each other’s main support

he knows that when he walks in through the door after a shit day

you’ll be sat on the sofa ready to hear him out

it leads to way too many profound chats till like 3 in the morning

he’s a lil’ bit protective

on the rare occasion he’s not working and you’re not home

he’ll be snapchatting you, texting you

‘wonho i was just at the gym?’ ‘can i come too??!!”

and then suddenly you’re hanging out as per

living w wonho is the chillest thing

except when he neglects to wear a shirt when he’s having a lazy day

and you’re red in the face, throwing fabrics at him to cover him damn self.

friends or not it’s illegal for wonho to walk around like that

you both gel without arguments

you like the same films, music and even like to eat at similar places

never any arguments over takeout lol

you even end up giving each other skin care tips

which makes for a pretty blissful living arrangement if you ask me.

Minhyuk:

(a visual??????)

okay you two are the ultimate best friends.

you have a long list of movies and tv series/anime that you two have to watch together

primarily because you know how whiny and salty he will be if u break it

you’re both pretty relaxed roommates

like the dishes don’t need to be done right this second

magically chores still get done

thankfully, minhyuk isn’t the typical gross male

but he will probably shamelessly steal food that you have labelled

which is probably the only source of any conflict in your house.

when you’re both at home

you better believe this loud ass will wake you up super early to go do something together

“time to bond (y/n)!!!!” “what r u, 5?”

but you’re lowkey kinda grateful that he wants to do stuff with you

since you’re always afraid you’ll lose him to his schedule

you’re still super super close

you guys create your own dance routines and memorise current choreos that are trending

you prank each other, which may involve you printing pre-debut pictures of minhyuk and plastering them everywhere

you have you’re own handshake that may or may not last for like 5 minutes

and if either of you forget it oH THE b e t r a y a l

did i mention that minhyuk is a massive drama queen?

but in a funny way (unlike a certain member who’s about to follow)

you will have named your shared apartment, no doubt

and will reference its name in the invites of the house parties you guys host

you basically act like siblings when their parents go out for the evening... 24/7...

Kihyun:

(his smile could sAVE lives. it’s so bright)

the ‘drama queen’ i previously mentioned

if u wanted a relaxed roommate, dude look elsewhere

i reckon yoo kihyun is a clean freak

he is mad about a rota of chores, to ensure it’s equal

but i can imagine him redoing them anyway if they weren’t done exactly how he normally does it.

this causes some some minor bickering

it’s always resolved when you ask what you’re doing for dinner that night

you guys have this insane ability to just drop arguments in a flash

which is why the intense cleaning regime never bothers you

plus, it contents your parents that you don’t live in a pig sty

(and silently wish that they could hire kihyun to clean on the side)

but beneath the bitterness, he can be super thoughtful

he’ll remember a food you were craving that one time

and suddenly you’ll find it in the cupboards

when you ask, he’ll shrug it off

but he lowkey loves to cook for you.

you guys will love to buy furniture together

prepare yourself for many trips to look at random decorations or house plants to liven up your two dead souls

relishing the simple joys like buying new plates or cutlery like the secretly middle aged people you are.

surprisingly, yall have a v similar ideal

i can just picture this modern (not to mention spotless), monochromatic apartment in seoul

mx and your friends will be so jealous of how well you run your appartment together

although they quietly question your friendship, yall get it each other

your closeness is measured in bitterness and insults

and you don’t really need anyone to understand your friendship

bc it works

Hyungwon:

(ONE OF THE BEST LOOKING PPL IN KPOP HANDS DOWN hOLD me)

this living arrangement will be the exact opposite to living w kihyun

“organised mess”

it’s just you guys are always so busy with your careers and lives

so tidiness happens to be the bottom of the priority list

except when parents come over

then you’re doing hurdles over each other to tidy up

trying to find as many convenient dark spots in the place to hide unwashed laundry

when you are both at home

it’s a quiet contentedness in each other's company

you’ll most likely message each other instead of yell

but when you do call out to him, it usually takes 3-6 times before you receive at least a mumble in response

you’ll probably text each other when you’re right next to each other

well, if hyungwon’s even awake

you will definitely leave passive aggressive notes to each other

‘close the cupboard u moron - love (y/n) xoxo’

and hyungwon will reply on the same cupboard door

‘even ur writing is loud omg - hyungwon’

and the door will be wide ajar

and you’re genuinely not sure whether he hasn’t noticed the actual issue or is blatantly ignoring it

nevertheless, it’s your guys’ sense of humour

you guys probably stay up a lot together when you’re both free and not feeling up to doing much

a few beers while watching some b-rate movie to laugh at

but the film will soon be forgotten and you’ll be talking about anything from love to what vegetable you identify with

and end up falling asleep on the sofa next to each other at 6 am

and the cycle starts all over again

Jooheon:

(one of the sweetest dimpled people alive)

a golden, pure apartment

you guys are inseparable and the cutest friends alive

yall really take care of each other, even if its a little out yours’ way

you both can immediately sense when something is wrong

when you drag your feet into the flat, your face completely drained

jooheon is alert and ready to let you rant about your day

and he’ll offer to pay for food that night or cook something

likewise with him. you just sense when he needs a cry or a moan.

you guys are also super goofy

jumping around like 10 year olds to your favourite playlists

having your own lip sync battles and completely slaying the raps

i can also imagine you two having a redecorating day together

you playfully bickering over a shade of blue for the living room

idk it just seems like something you guys would do together

you also leave sweet notes for each other

especially if you don’t see each other at home for a while

you’ll wake up to a lil’ sticky note wishing you a pleasant day

it’s honestly sickly sweet

you’ll prank and tease the other members when they come over

because you guys are an unstoppable, mischievous duo

unfortunately shownu doesn’t really scare like jooheon does

so the tables over turn :/

jooheon has also put a ban on horror movies

because he’s so jumpy and he knows he’ll never live it down

you guys will also share a bed in a completely platonic way

like you have just missed your best friend

so you have a sleepover... in the flat you share... as adults

everybody just assumes you’re dating and mx think you should

esp when jooheon gets lowkey jealous when you go on dates, since he’s so openly protective of you

but you guys know where you’re at

and you’re happy as best friends

I.M:

(i love this gif of changkyun. look at his cheeks ahhhh)

you guys are long-term childhood friends so the apartment vibe is chill

you have been friends so damn long, you know exactly how each other click so there are rarely any problems

if there is, you threaten to blackmail w the thousands of ugly photos you have of him.

then you remember he has an equal amount as you, and the actual issues is dropped within seconds

because you guys are still goofy through it al

like i said, it’s a v chill household

chores get magically done, eventually, but there’s no real rush

but you are both rarely there to have to thrive in it

it does make kihyun want to die a little when he visits

changkyun is often at his own studio

and you’ll receive calls asking you to listen to something he’s produced and see what you think of it

it means you guys end up spending more time at his studio than the apartment you both pay for lmao

but it doesn’t bother either of you

sometimes, it does take some prompting from you to stop him from overworking himself

what you guys love to do is go out on drives

just drive somewhere completely random, sit and watch the night creep in

you guys can pretty much talk for hours and hours

be it reminiscing, talking about the future or about the new music that you have been listening to

this does mean changkyun always has headphones in

so you’ll have to call his name repeatedly to get his attention

your apartment will also always smell good

you both end up buying heaps and heaps of incense and candles

careful in not making the landlord believe you guys are doing drugs lmao

but it just creates such a relaxed atmosphere

and you don’t have to think too hard when buying each other presents

sorry if the lengths aren’t v well balanced. i had LOADS of ideas for some members and fewer for others. curse of writer’s brain grrrr. some of these were so cute, and i would so room w changkyun tbh

307 notes · View notes

theramblingonesie · 5 years

Text

I love you but I don’t like you right now: The Passion Project Diaries

I remember years ago when I was nannying for a beautiful family, experiencing the joys and not-joys of their daughter coming into toddlerhood. She was such a precious dumpling as a baby, and somehow she had sprung into an agent of chaos, destruction, loss of hearing (mine), and potty-training nightmares. I had a day where I remember sitting at the kitchen table hoping for five minutes of peace (that never arrived) and feeling overwhelmed by the guilty thought of, “omg. I don’t like you.” Bothered by this, having established that I did feel unconditional love for this child, I asked one of my friends who is a mother to two young children if she ever experienced similar feelings. She laughed and threw her hands up exclaiming, “OH GAWD YES! There are days where I completely dislike my children. You don’t tell them that, obviously, but that’s a well-kept secret among mothers. We all talk about it. You’d be surprised how common that is, especially when they’re toddlers.”

PHEW. Great, I wasn’t a monster. Or if I was, I was at least in good company.

Producing and directing The Scarlet Tongue Project has brought out similar feelings for me over the course of the past three or four years. I remember the gestation period, feeling scared and excited, dreaming about what her personality was going to be, how I would be as an art mommy, imagining all the playdates with other artists and art parents in town. Then I went into labor, breathing and screaming through the pain of contractions, feeling frustration and fear of the nurses- some helpful and some harmful. I remember the vulnerability of not wanting anyone else to touch my baby, of just wanting to hold her to my chest where she would feel safe and bonded. I remember how deeply and fiercely I fell in love when she began opening her eyes and making sounds. She was the most precious thing in the world to me, and I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. The rest of the world disappeared, and it was so hard for me to focus or find equivalent joy in anything else. Then the insecurities of being a new art mommy set in. I doubted my abilities, and my exhaustion from trying to navigate this new territory had me questioning everything. Everywhere I turned there was information telling me that I was doing it all wrong; that if I made the slightest error I would damage my art baby for life, and maybe even lose her. I constantly reached out to loved ones asking for assistance, afraid to be left alone with this tiny, vulnerable creature. When you have a new project and you’re a new producer, suddenly everyone around you is an expert and wants to tell you how to do your job; particularly folks who have never been producers before. You begin to wonder if you made a mistake, and if you should give your project up for adoption to someone more competent. Other times, you pour yourself a glass of wine and tell them to eff right off because it’s your kid and they can go mind their own beeswax. I was in awe as I watched my art baby grow. She began to take on her own personality, making friends, forming opinions, and developing a stubborn side that I couldn’t budge for the life of me. I adored that about her. I was so deeply in love. But every once in a while, I would wonder if I made a mistake. She was so hungry, and the bigger she gets the hungrier she is. She developed her own voice, and while there are so many laughs and moments of deep wisdom that make me think she’s an old soul, she also loves to scream. Her favorite thing to do is scream, just to know she can. What and who she loves one day she hates the next. Sometimes she decides that what was previously her favorite food is disgusting, and will go on a hunger strike until I guess what she likes, because she won’t actually tell me. Sometimes I’ll put her in the bath and then run downstairs to grab a book quickly, and when I come back up she’s turned the water all the way up, screaming because it’s too hot and the tub is overflowing all over the floor and leaking through the kitchen ceiling below. Sometimes I think she’s getting dressed to go run errands with me, but instead she’s put on her roller skates and is three blocks down the street by herself with nothing but her lightning bolt undies on. In winter. On those days, I don’t like her. I don’t want to be an art mommy.

When my health issues crop up, physically or mentally, I don’t want to be an art mom that day. When I have no clue how to delegate because the beginning stages of this project left me with massive trust issues, and now I’ve taken on way too much for one person, I don’t want to be an art mom. When I receive yet another rejection letter from the millionth grant or residency program I’ve applied to, I want to quit. Everytime someone says, “so wait, I don’t really get what you’re doing, it’s so confusing” or “so like, is Scarlet Tongue even happening anymore?” I just want to go full-Britney, shave my head, and start smashing the street up with my umbrella.

Everytime someone says “oh, my sister is into feminism and stuff and she likes to draw. You should interview her”, I want to crumble into a pile of feral cats and scatter into oncoming traffic.

There are days when I ask myself why I took on a project that isn’t as flashy or “fun” as my other artist friends. Why am I so heavy? Why am I such a downer? Why am I so weird, but not in a way that’s cool?

There are days when I don’t know whether to punch or charge money for the next person who tells me that anger is bad, and why don’t I focus on a project that brings love and joy?

There are days when my heart breaks, because everyone likes the idea of womxn’s anger in theory, but when actually confronted by it they simply regurgitate the same toxic oppressive mentality that’s left us in this place to begin with. I’ve lost track of how many times “yes I believe in this, PLEASE LET ME HELP” has turned into “you’re a bad mommy. How dare you be angry with me.”

There are days when I feel lost, because I am holding the weight of so many people’s heaviest emotions and darkest secrets, and I feel pressured to keep smiling and do a flashy dance to make it all seem sexy, because sex seems like the only thing that sells if “womxn” is mentioned in your mission statement. Either that, or a complete exploitation of my artists’ trauma, which is a hard no.

There are days when money issues are gutting me, and I’m afraid to ask for help because I fear I’ve overtapped my resources.

There are days when it looks like for one every step forward I end up taking ten steps back.

Some days I’m not sure if I’m actually a better person since doing this work or not.

Those days, I turn my face away and mutter “I don’t fucking like you” under my breath, and secretly look up boarding schools in the middle of the night. When I’m around a small handful of friends I really trust, I’ll confess that I don’t like this project anymore and am ready for it to end.

But then, something beautiful happens. The act of saying how I feel out loud invites a feeling of surrender, and that surrender creates space for me to look at this project with fresh eyes and see her wholeness. Sure, maybe in certain moments I’m ready to tap out. But in a way, that’s good. It means I care, and I welcome emotions in this project. Sure, there are parts of this project I’m ready to wrap up, and not being able to complete that on my desired timeline makes me cranky. Not because I think they suck, but because that is the healthiest choice to keep things moving forward. I’m not going to start feeding my child solid foods because I resent their baby years; I’m going to feed them solid foods because it’s time to grow and move to the next step. Despite my hair-pulling moments, the reality is that when I really dig in and try to visualize not having this project, or never having started it, I feel panic and then a full-body resistance. For all of the frustrations, ups and downs, I believe in this work so hard, and I am completely dedicated to the path. I have visited parts of the US and the world that I’m not sure I would have ever seen otherwise. I’ve had the absolute fortune and blessing to gain both wisdom and knowledge, collaborate with, and share space with absolutely brilliant creative minds, both past and present. I’ve lost track of how many “holy shit, this is my life??” moments I’ve had, and that number only continues to grow. For every moment I’ve doubted myself, just as many people have taken time to tell me how much this project and this work means to them, and how it’s influenced their lives, whether as contributors or observers. On a personal level, the work I’ve done to heal a lot of my own trauma and anger issues has been profound, and the effects of that have had incalculable influence on my personal relationships and in my blood family. This project has shown me, through peace and through fire, how tirelessly obsessed and dedicated I am to making something happen if I really want it. Hearing “no” might bum me out for a minute, but you find solutions and move on. Being bummed out isn’t a death sentence.

Two years ago I was sitting with friends in Mexico, chatting with them about their experiences as mothers, contemplating if I wanted to have children of my own one day. One thing they said really stuck with me-- as a parent, you don’t own your children and they’re not extensions of you. They are their own people who will develop into who they need to be, and they will ultimately inform you about who they are. A parent’s job is mainly to love them, provide resources, and keep them safe.

This is a regular reminder for The Scarlet Tongue Project. I brought her into the world, gave her some form, and now she’s taken on a life of her own. Rather than being the owner or queen of this work, my job is far more service than glory. I’m trying to be better at asking her, “who are you today? What do you need to thrive?” Sometimes I have no clue what she’s trying to tell me. Sometimes we need to explore that a little bit to figure it out. Sometimes we take one or two wrong turns before getting back on track. But I trust the friends and caregivers she’s called forward to help on this journey. It’s a constant balance of appreciating growth while remaining present, and frequently reminding my ego to step out of the way. In moments of absolute frustration, I simply ask myself, “have you tried absolutely everything?” and the answer is always no. There is always more to do and more to learn. I can’t justify giving up when there is still infinite potential available.

Our relationships always flow in cycles. One day you’ll be super in sync with a friend or loved one, and the next you can’t seem to jive with their energy. Life will happen, circumstances will change, and then days, weeks, months or years later, you’ll fall back in harmony. In longterm romantic relationships, you cycle through periods of absolute infatuation, then wanting to murder each other, and sometimes being platonic roommate besties. I don’t have actual children, but I do believe there are so many different ways to live the archetype of Parent. It’s no secret that with parenthood comes doubt and overwhelm, along with joy and love. One minute you can’t get enough of your babies, and the next you’re hoping someone will take them away for a month so you can get some sleep and remember who you are outside of them. While love remains, inspiration and interest come in cycles. Life, death and rebirth apply to the creative process as much as they do to the larger natural world. Winter in the creative process is crucial for letting things rest, assessing our previous work, and contemplating where we want to go before implementing a plan in the creative spring.

The work my team puts into this project continues to stun and humble me in gratitude. Every single person who takes a moment to tell me how this project has helped or inspired me has given me fresh life. Watching this whole thing come to life is surpassing my wildest dreams, even with the path being full of twists and turns. I don’t have to always like this project, and it’s liberating to admit that. But I love her on both an intellectual and soul level, and that’s what allows me to push through. This project is all about rawness, authenticity, and speaking your truth. It would be hypocritical if I encouraged everyone else but myself to be in that energy.

I wish you all creative spring through your moments of wanting to light it all on fire and send the ashes out on trash day <3

#scarlettongue parenthood artmom art producerlife punk punkbabies

1 note · View note

ultchaebugi · 6 years

Text

mx reaction ; to s/o having a pregnancy cramp while fighting [hyung line]

req. can I request monsta x's reaction when you're carrying their child and had a fight and then their s/o feels a sharp pain? I hope this makes sense and sorry my English hihi. thanks♥️

a/n; Oh my god this is so long? specially the changkyun one omg i’m soooo sorry HAHAH i had to divide it in hyung and maknae line because this is so long omg im sorry fjfkjf

shownu

You and him rarely fought, he tried to be comprehensive of your mood swings, but after a hard day at work he came home exhausted and you were pretty sensitive- not mad, but you were kind of sad that he didn’t show any affection- later on, you understood that he was tired and brushed it off, but you knew he was still mad. “I really don’t understand you sometimes, y/n,” you stared at him, confused, and when you were about to say something you felt a sharp pain coming from your uterus- one of those you weren’t really used to experience since you were still in early stages of pregnancy.

When you remained silent he would straighten up and stare at you, only to see you shut your eyes and hissing, trying to breathe in and out. He would be scared, kneeling in front of you trying to act collected. He would ask what’s wrong, and to the lack of response he’d panic, looking around in hopes of seeing something that will help you ease your pain.

When the pain started to soothe, you breathed out until you could talk and calm him down, telling him that it was a normal pain that you’d experience a few times and that he shouldn’t worry. He’d sit next to you, hugging you tightly. “Let’s not fight anymore, okay?”.

wonho

Hoseok’s a pretty chill person, but he’s very sensitive too, although very lovely and wouldn’t hurt you in the slightest, you had your insecure moments- hitting him where it hurt the most, because even though you warned him that you’d be very susceptible, he’d still be offended because he thought you didn’t trust him enough.

When you were discussing -fighting isn’t allowed between Hoseok and you, you never fought because you know how insecure he is and it breaks your heart everytime you see him cry- and it got worse, you were standing up and you felt something at the sides of your uterus stretching, a sharp pain you’ve felt before but not so intense.

He’d be terrified, you bent down to ease the pain and he quickly kneeled in front of you to ask you what happened, panic written all across his face. Tears started to form in his eyes out of fear, and seeing this you grabbed him by the shoulder and told him to calm down- and to help you sit on the couch. He immediately did what you told him and sat beside you, holding your hand and asking you to squeeze it to make the pain go away.

That night he slept resting his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat, relieved that you and his child are okay and resting.

minhyuk

Oh, this boy. He’s like a flame, he loves with all his heart- and takes things very personal too, so it isn’t strange that both of you fought a lot during your pregnancy.

He learned that you were carrying his child and also you were the love of his life and had to put you before his temper and pride.

He was very patient, but he had his moments when he was extremely tired and the slightest thing would make him lose his shit, and so were you. You were still in early stages so it hit you pretty badly, it was the first one- you were leaning against the kitchen counter and you tried to calm things down, but before you could say anything you started to feel it. He wouldn’t buy it at first, thinking it was some kind of sick joke but after he told you to cut it he got pretty scared, getting closer to you and he helped you straighten up, sitting you in a chair and calling a friend of yours that had a baby recently in a cry for help.

“Okay, so, she says that you should try to breathe in and out calmly. Hold my hand, okay? squeeze it if it hurts a lot and please stay with me,” he said- afraid that you might pass out or something. He was there with you the whole time until you regained your composure and he had an apologetic smile on his face. He squeezed your cheeks lightly. “I’m sorry I’m such an ass sometimes… I love you both so much you can’t imagine, and sometimes I lose it. But it won’t happen again, I promise.”

kihyun

Fighting with Kihyun during your pregnancy was like a latin-American novel si me lees y eres de latinoamerica, pasa a saludarme por el inbox <3 both of you guys had the shortest temper to ever exist, and the fact that you were like two nagging moms in the house at the same didn’t help at all.

You were tired, experiencing pains by yourself the whole day- they were light, not something you didn’t feel before. You know if it got worse it should be at night, and Kihyun would be there to help you.

Something in your brain clicked and told you it was a good idea to nag Kihyun after a tiring day at work, and you ended up fighting- fights with him weren’t strong, you didn’t yell or throw fists, you just said some sassy stuff and then he collected himself, trying to calm down and pull you into a hug because he understood you were having a hard time and because he loves you to the moon and back- but before he could calm down, you sneezed and it hit you, a pain in the lower abdomen you couldn’t handle without bending down and holding your small belly between your hands.

“Hey, are you listening?” he’d get closer, “Are you okay?” When he saw you were in pain he helped you sit down on the bed and to lie on it, rubbing your abdomen gently and reassuring you. When the pain eased down, he lied next to you-you had your eyes shut as he pulled you closer to his chest, protecting you from any possible harm.

“I’m sorry baby, I know you should be the mom and not me” he chuckled and made a pause. “I love you and our babygirl with all my heart.”

tbc

#kihyun #wonho #minhyuk #shownu #monsta x #monsta x reaction #monsta x reactions #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios

131 notes · View notes

kfawkes · 6 years

Note

Omg could you do an eggsy unwin x reader with the prompt “i had to carry you to bed last night, you were exhausted.” from the domestic list. Thanks you so much if you do, I love your writing!

[Okay! :D Sorry guys, been at con as you know, and then yesterday I was working on this and I was SOOO sucked into Stranger Things I couldn’t finish it lol ;.; But I’m trying to get a few out this week before I gotta get to Blizzcon on Friday. Buuuut as always thanks for being incredible and patient with me :)

I did so many different things with this, lol so I hope you like it anon ;.; I can’t tell anymore because I’ve been staring at it for so long hahah and the week has been long sooo I'm sorta mentally drained

And to you specifically, Anon- Thank YOU so much for your prompt and the compliment

Pairing: Eggsy X Reader

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Mild smut, nothing graphic. Some cursing though as always!

—Read on Ao3!]

When you opened your eyes you’d expected to wake face down in a pile of paper like you had been every morning this week. Maybe you’d have reconsidered being a Kingsman if you knew how much paperwork was involved…

Okay, you absolutely wouldn’t have. Being a Kingsman was the best thing that ever happened to you for more reasons than one. Your incredibly handsome best friend Eggsy was a lovely bonus, but even with a smile like that you could complain from time to time, right?

Right.

But instead of waking to Prince licking the fingertips with a cramp in your neck the size of a small country; you woke comfortably in your bed with absolutely no recollection on how you got there.

As you pulled your arms into a long stretch; the kind that you can feel in almost every muscle of your body- you eyed the room cautiously. On each glance around the space, the pieces began falling into place…

Eggsy had shown up– late.

One minute you were talking, having a few drinks and then the next thing you knew it he was pinning you against the wall; breathing in your ear, and whispering how badly he wanted you…

You slid your hand over the back of your shoulder feeling the raised flesh once more; and in that moment you could almost feel him there again. Those marks were proof that what you remembered wasn’t just some fantasy: it was real.

But considering he wasn’t beside you now, it was probably safe to say that last night hadn’t been nearly as important to him as it was to you… You knew that sometimes people did stuff they didn’t always mean. Hell, you’d done and said a great deal of things you wish you hadn’t in the heat of the moment.

Only, this was Eggsy, your very best friend… The guy that brought you coffee every morning, and trained you into the super spy you were now– his words, not yours.

It was hard to imagine that Eggsy would just… do that to you. But you knew it was a possibility.

You didn’t like the feeling those thoughts gave you though, and decided now was not the time to fixate on them. So you hugged your stomach with a small frown attempting to forget them as best you could; ready to close your eyes to the things you didn’t want to see and feel.

Except now that he’d been pressed against you in the dead of night with lips pushed to yours fervidly– you knew you’d never be able to forget it. You were having a hard time not thinking about it now, how could you be expected to do it every day?

Perhaps if you couldn’t forget, you could at least pretend to… or even try ignoring it. Just go through the motions, and play the part of the best friend like you always have. As ‘nice’ as that sounded, something told you it wouldn’t be that easy and you remembered nothing ever was…

You actually loved that cheeky shit, didn’t you?

It was a stupid question really, you knew that. Of course you loved him. Eggsy was kind, caring and far too charming. There was something in the way he looked at you that made you feel like you were the only person in the room and you’d never laughed harder than when you were with hi–

“You ain’t s’posed to be awake yet.” Eggsy spoke in a whisper as he pushed the door open with his foot, causing you to shoot up from bed with eyes wide.

He was shirtless with his hair shoved around lazily and he was wearing the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. When you looked to his hands they gripped two large mugs of coffee anxiously, and once you realized he hadn’t left you; you felt an explosion of relief spread low in your gut.

“You’re still here.”

“That’s alright, innit?” When he replied this time, his brows raised self consciously and if he was being honest, he was so fucking nervous.

Eggsy had been trying to find a way to tell you how he felt for months now. But what was the right way to tell your best mate that you were in love with em? Was there really a right way to say that you were the most wonderful person he’d ever met? That he thought about you whenever he wasn’t with you, and that he’d been wanting to kiss you like that since he first laid eyes on you…

Truthfully no words would ever be good enough, and ultimately it didn’t matter because before he even knew what he’d done– it didn’t matter and he kissed you.

Now that he had crossed that line, he was scared shitless that he’d fuck it up like he did so many things…

“D’you want–”

You began shaking your head almost fiercely when you realized what he must of thought at your greeting. The last thing you wanted was for him to leave or think you didn’t want him there.

“No, I just… I thought after everything downstairs. That you’d… maybe– I don’t really know what I thought to be honest, Eggsy…”

“Thought I’d leave you? Nah… never.” He smiled at you again relaxing a bit as he closed the space between you.

The smell of his skin surrounded you as he sat and you felt a wave of chills run through your body like it had every time before. As you look over his face you felt your heart begin to pound, and by the look in his eyes he felt it too.

Instead of saying something clever or cute like you’d intended, you went for the more awkward approach of stammering like a fool. “How d-did I get up here? I don’t remember us… being here– during… that.”

You narrowed your eyes on his as you press your tongue to the corner of your mouth, watching as Eggsy’s lips parted slowly answering your question. “You was out cold, had to carry you up t’bed… Think I wore you out a bit, luv.”

Eggsy’s lips curled into that cheeky smile you loved so damn much as he tossed you a wink; and in that moment you realized you couldn’t really deny how you felt anymore…

Even with the realization pressing at your chest burning for release, you couldn’t help but laugh; shoving him playfully as you turned a pale shade of red. You’d forgotten about the fresh cups of coffee he held until they dripped on your bed reminding you of their existence with a promised stain.

Eggsy pulled his bottom lip between his teeth shaking his head at you teasingly; eyeing the mess you’d made with pursed lips. “Look what you done now.”

You laughed again quietly into your hand not caring at all, enjoying this– him far too much. A moment later Eggsy leaned over placing the mugs beside you on the night stand, stopping close to your face. He didn’t say anything at first, and neither did you… you just looked at each other, but after a moment he smiled sliding his hand to your neck.

He traced your cheek softly with his thumb holding his eyes affectionately on yours. “You’re beautiful… you know that, yeah? Most beautiful thing I ever seen.”

For some reason you didn’t know what to say as a lump formed in your throat. There was something about the way he looked at you that was almost paralyzing, and having him only a few inches from your lips wasn’t helping.

If words wouldn’t come out, then actions would have to suffice… So you lifted your leg over his lap, pulling him closer with your foot as he leaned into you with a soft smile. Eggsy slid between your thighs like he’d done it a million times before with breath soft and warm against your neck.

You pressed your hands up his chest ending on either side of his neck as you lean back into the mattress. With his free hand he slid the hair from your face, scanning you like a landscape.

“You can be pretty sweet when you want to be.” You finally managed to reply as his warmth spread over you like a wave.

“I ain’t too bad,” Eggsy whispered moving closer to your lips… only seconds from tasting you again. “have my moments.”

You pushed into him lightly with your hips, wanting almost desperately to feel him again. He kissed you then just like you hoped he would, and you could swear in that moment you could see the fucking stars.

“Eggsy, I…” He kissed you as you trailed off, softer than before but just as ardently.

“I know… me too, luv.”

For this being the first time you’d done– well, any of this. It sure didn’t feel that way. It felt perfect. Eggsy felt perfect. Right. And now as you stare into those azure eyes, gazing over those dimples… you knew this was it. He was it.

And on the off chance you were really downstairs, fast asleep imagining all of this… You could bet your ass this was one dream you didn’t want to leave.

#Eggsy Imagine #eggsy x reader #eggsy unwin x reader #Kingsman #Fanfic #gary eggsy unwin #Eggsy #Kingsman fic #fanfiction #Eggsystential Crisis #Prompt #ask #answered

217 notes · View notes

donttellpeterparker · 7 years

Text

Art Studio

Can you write an imagine where you live with Harrison and you’re an artist and one night he comes home late and doesn’t find you home so he drives to your art studio just to find you asleep on the floor with paint and art all over you? Thank you love!!! You’re the best❤️ -Anon

Summary: Harrison comes back from press conferences and interviews to notice you fell asleep at your Art Studio. (crappy description sorryyyy)

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 1.3k

Note: Thanks for the request Anon! Hope you enjoy :))

Warning(s)?: none? Just fLUFFFFF

masterlist (x) requests (x)

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

Art Studio

You stayed late at the art studio to finish off your painting. The Gallery was opening up in a few days and you had to hand your piece in to be hanged by 9am tomorrow. You were stressed to the max cause your creative doesn't run to a schedule but sucked it up, knowing this was a huge opportunity for you. Ever since you can remember you've always wanted your art to be displayed in art galleries. You were currently attending College, being an Art major and all had it perks. Apart for one of your assignments you got to battle it out with your other classmate for a spot for your work to be shown in the new Gallery that was opening. It was a tight race but you won but half a mark and you couldn't be prouder.

With one last brush of red pain across the canvas you could feel your eyes begin to close. You glanced over to the wall to notice the clock said it was 2:36am. Great, you were supposed to be home a few hours ago. You said to Harrison that you would be staying late at the gallery so you could get your work finished. He smiled and nodded, offering to pick you up when you were finished. You declined politely, knowing he had to be up early the next day to head to a photo shoot with Tom. He was Tom's P.A so he pretty much went wherever Tom went. It kinda sucked at first cause you missed your best friend a lot. All those nights where you guys would sit on the lounge and snuggle into each other, watching some ridiculous t.v show cuaing you both to go into fits of laughter. Attending college parties together, though sometimes those weren't all that great.

They seemed to be for Harrison cause girls seem to be hanging off of his arm at every single one. You weren't jealous, no way you would keep reminding yourself. It was just annoying that you guys would come to the party together and he would always end up with someone else. He wasn't a fuckboy in the sense, but occasionally he would pick up a female and then tell you all about it the next day. You wanted to hurl.

''I don't need to know about your raging sex life Haz!'' You would yell at him, trying to cover your poor innocent ears from the vulgar information tumbling out of his mouth.

''Awww but that's not even the best part'' He would whine, wanting to continue. Why couldn't he do this with Tom? Why did he seem to always bother you with this stuff.

''She does this thing with her tongue that-'' You cut him off.

''Enough Haz! Please! Virgin ears you moron!'' You would yell back at him, covering your ears. He would just laugh in response and stop, noticing your flushed face whenever you guys talked about this stuff. He secretly loved to do it because he always loved winding you up, he thought it was adorable whenever you got hot or flustered.

Laughing softly at the memory you put the paint brush down. You hadn't noticed a tear had slipped so you quickly wiped it away, confused. You drew it down to you being up so late and you were exhausted and sometimes your eyes watered whenever you were overworked or tired. You looked up to your artwork and felt very proud at what you had accomplished.

''I'll just close my eyes for a few moments..'' You told yourself, beginning to rest your head against the desk on top of your crossed arms. Only for a few moments so that you could get up and re-focus.

Harrison's pov#

I dropped Tom off at his apartment before heading back to my shared flat with Y/N. I was beyond exhausted from the very long day with press conferences and interviews. Parking my car I hoped out, walking up to the front door. I unlock the front door and walk through, noticing all the lights were off.

She's probably already asleep.

I decided to walk around the apartment, seeing if I can see any signs of her. Nothing. I began to walk over to her room, softly knocking on the door. With no response i pushed the door open slightly, noticing her bed was untouched. Shit, she must be still at the studio. Reaching out to grab my car keys I decide to head over to the studio.

~Studio

I walked into the dim light room, noticing the amount of arts and craft that littered the rooms walls and tables. I glance around, walking into a workshop where Y/N usually was. Opening the door slowly I notice a figure snoring lightly, the body leaning against the table. I couldn't help but to let out a smile. I walked into the room and over to Y/N, noticing her lips were slightly parted as she slept. I looked down to see she was wearing her 'art' clothes, the ones that were always covered in paint. Glancing over her arms and face I also noticed specks of pain coating her aswell. Holding in a laugh I gently begin to shake her, waking her up.

She didn't stir at all. She must be really tired.

I decided to pull out my phone and capture this moment. She was too cute not to take pictures. Sliding the phone back into my back pocket I reach over to Y/N, beginning to move her body off of the table and into my arms. She stirred slightly, snuggling closer to my body for warmth. I could feel my cheeks begin to get flushed as I picker her up bridal style. Making sure there were none of her belongings left in here I headed for the door, not bothering to close it after me. I left the studio, walking over to the car and gently put her into the passenger seat. Again she stirred but just snuggled into a more comfortable position. I hoped around and into the driver's seat and began the car, heading home.

Once we arrived home I went around to her side again and picked her up again. I could have just woke her up but I didn't want to. Carrying her in my arms bridal style again I head into the apartment. I put my keys onto the kitchen table, turn around and begin to walk down to her bedroom. I opened the door slowly and turned the light on. I walked over towards the bed and gently laid her down, grabbing the blanked at the end of the bed to drape over her. She stirred again and reached for some warmth. Unknowingly she grabbed my arm and tugged me closer, pulling me down onto her bed.

''Y/N'' I said between laughs. She kept pulling on my arm till I was laying down beside her. She snuggled her body into my front and let out a sigh.Deciding not to bother fighting it I stayed, wrapping my arms around her bringing her closer. She always seemed to smell of vanilla. Snuggling my face into her hair, enjoying her scent I began to drift off to sleep. To tired to care that we were practically spooning like a couple.

~Third person

Unknowing to Harrison and Y/N the next morning as they slept through both alarms they had been caught. Tom was over at the apartment, ready to scream at Harrison for being late but stopped short once he made his was over to the open door of Y/N'S room. He let a smirk cross his features before pulling out his phone to snap a pic.

'''Not in love with her' my ass'' He said as he decided it was probably time to wake the both of you up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @cutie1365 @luke-the-princess @that70skiwi @mang0fruitblast @kawaiianime03 @fortheloveoflamp @jamesbuckybananabarnes @queen-zpidey

A/N: Thanks for this beautiful request Anon! I had so much fun writing this omg I hope you like it :)))

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield imagine #art studio #donttellpeterparker #tom holland #tom holland imagine #spiderman #spider-man: homecoming

60 notes · View notes

heckin-good-holland-blog · 7 years

Photo

(this image isn’t mine!! credit to whoever owns it, i couldn’t find the original xx)

Patching Things Up

Summary: Fighting with Peter is never fun, but when you take it a bit too far things get a little dicey. You end up having to try to fix your relationship (and a pretty beat up Peter) and find yourself discovering a little more about him than you expected

Warnings: Blood is mentioned but it’s nothing too bad :)

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker

Genre: Angst + Fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: WOAH my other writing thing got a bunch of notes for no reason omg I hope to keep posting and eventually make a masterlist?? but yeah enjoy!

————–

Peter was your close friend and you’d do absolutely anything for him, but man did he piss you off sometimes. You both were generally very easygoing and sweet people, but sometimes your opinions and viewpoints clashed dramatically. You argued about things ranging from what toppings to order on your pizza to who was the worst at math. Almost every argument you had was over silly stuff and you two made up instantly when you were finished. There was one exception though.

Spiderman. When you first found out about Peter’s secret you were stoked. It was an accident, of course. Ned let it slip one day when the two of you were talking and, against his wishes, you confronted Peter about it.

“I can’t believe you never told me!” you gushed excitedly. “There’s so many things I want to ask. Can you talk to actual spiders? Do webs come out of your butt? Spiders use poison to make their food mushy so they can eat it, is that what you do? I’ve never noticed.”

“How did you… Ned, are you serious?” Peter asked, his voice strained. “Y/N you weren’t supposed to find out. You have to swear not to tell anyone.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you said with a wink. “It’s not like anyone would believe me anyway, but I’ll keep it to myself.”

“What, you don’t think Peter Parker can take on massive villains with crazy weapons and stuff?” he asked, looking mildly offended.

“Honestly? Not really,” you admitted. “No offense Pete, you’re just not that threatening or tough.” His eyes flashed and you knew this was going to be the beginning of something.

“Well that sucks because I don’t see you risking your life every single night fighting bad guys ten times your size,” he said angrily. “I get beat up really badly all the time but you should see the other guy. I like to think I’m somewhat good at what I do.” You stared at him for a second, your mind processing what he just said.

“Peter you have to stop,” you said suddenly. He paused, clearly taken aback.

“Y-you want me to stop? Stop being Spiderman?”

“Yes,” you hesitated. “It’s so dangerous, what would I do if something bad happened to you? God, I can’t believe this. What if you’d gotten killed? Please, you have to stop.” He took a step away from you, looking hurt.

“Y/N I have to do this,” he said. “If I don’t then so many more people are in danger. Don’t you get it? I can save people! I’ve already saved people. Isn’t that more important than whether or not I get some bruises once in a while? It’s so selfish of you to even say that!” His voice raised as he went, his emotions running wild. For as long as you’d known Peter he had never raised his voice like that at you. You could feel your heart pumping faster as you glared at him.

“If you keep being Spiderman we can’t be friends.” As soon as you said it you regretted it. The look on his face was like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t been friends for very long but you were still extremely close and you knew life without Peter would totally suck. It wasn’t an empty threat though. His safety was really important to you and you hated the idea of him setting off every night to go get knocked around.

“I won’t,” he said in a low voice. You blinked, feeling tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“Then I guess we’re not friends anymore.”

“I guess not.” He didn’t look away, his gaze defiant and strong. You suddenly understood where Spiderman’s bravery came from. You readjusted the backpack on your shoulder and turned away, walking away from him.

It has been a few weeks since the fight had gone down and neither of you had spoken since. You were ashamed of your behavior but were too stubborn to go back on your word. It wasn’t really fair of you to ask him to give it up entirely but he had to understand the gravity of the situation. You checked the news obsessively every night to see if there was any information about Spiderman. You followed update accounts on twitter and even downloaded news apps with live coverage just in case. Every time Peter missed a day at school you were filled with anxiety and fear that he wouldn’t ever come back. You used Ned as a resource to find out how Peter was doing. Ned, caught in the middle, would always desperately ask you to talk to him again. He claimed that Peter had gotten really closed off and irritable and was ignoring just about everyone. It hurt you, but you were determined to prove a point.

One night when you were about to hop in the shower after a particularly long day your phone started going off like crazy. All kinds of notifications were popping up about a huge scale accident by Coney Island that involved one of the Avenger’s planes. Spiderman had been seen there, and from the looks of it he must have gotten pretty badly injured. Panic seized your body as you thought of Peter lying helplessly in the wreckage. You tried to shake it off. He was probably fine, this was his decision anyway. You decided to ignore it for the time being and just shower.

You were in the middle of drying yourself off when you heard the doorbell ring. You froze, your imagination spewing out worst case scenarios. You were home alone and there was a very slim chance it was your parents. What if it was a murderer? It would totally suck to be killed naked. The doorbell rang again a second and third time though and at that point your curiosity got the best of you. Your pulled your towel tightly around you and went to check the front door. You looked through the peep hole and saw a familiar face.

Peter. You swung the door open and almost passed out at the sight before you. He looked as if he had been in a gang fight or something. His entire face was cut and scratched with dark purple spots around his eyes. His lip was bleeding as well as a spot on his cheek. He was wearing a hoodie but he hadn’t bothered to put different pants over the suit, and you could see it had been ripped a few times.

“Holy shit!” you exclaimed. “Peter, what happened? Never mind, tell me later. My god, sit down.” Your mind was reeling as you desperately tried to think of how to fix his wounds. Peter cleared his throat, disrupting your thoughts.

“Not to be creepy but can you put on clothes first? I’m hurt but I’m not dying and it’s kinda awkward…” His voice came out raspy but still carried the joking tone. Heat rushed to your face and you nodded, running back to your bathroom to quickly get your pajamas on. When you came back Peter was laying on the couch, his eyes closed. You sat down next to him gingerly and he looked up at you.

“Y/N… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. He sounded exhausted and defeated. “Y-you were right. Putting myself in harm’s way is stupid and I can’t always handle things on my own. I can’t do anything on my own, actually. I need you to talk to me again, I’m slowly going insane. I missed you so much and it was so much worse than any pain I’ve ever gone through in my whole life.” You swallowed hard, holding back tears. He looked so incredibly vulnerable and it broke your heart that what you had done upset him so much.

“Peter, listen…” you started but he cut you off.

“I-If you want I’ll even give up on Spiderman.” You paused for a second. He was really willing to give up such an important part of his life just to get you to talk to him again. You realized that being a hero was just who he was, and his selflessness made you feel really proud.

“I don’t want you to,” you said gently. “We need someone like you out there protecting us. I’m sorry I made you feel bad, I guess I’m not as good of a person as you are. I’m still gonna be upset when you get hurt like this but if it’s what you want to do then I shouldn’t be the one to stop you.” He grinned and his smile even reached his tired eyes. You missed seeing that smile and it lifted your spirits.

“I can deal with you being grumpy sometimes, it’s better than nothing. I had to listen to Ned talk about computer programming for like an hour yesterday and nobody came to my rescue. Maybe that can be your superpower?”

“Maybe,” you chuckled. “Now, do you want ice or something? You look terrible. Not that you don’t always look terrible, Parker.” He laughed, cringing at the pain shooting up his side. You looked at him nervously, unsure of how to help him.

“Ice sounds great actually,” he said. You nodded and rushed to the freezer to find an ice pack. You wrapped it in a thin towel so that it wouldn’t be super cold and brought it back to him. His face was drained of all color and there were beads of sweat all across his forehead.

“Pete, I think you might have a concussion,” you said as you eyed the bump on his head. “Your pupils are all dilated and you’re turning black and blue.”

“I’m fine,” he declared as he sat up, the look in his eyes showing he immediately regretted his decision. “Actually do you… I need to go throw up.” You helped him up and guided him to the bathroom. He insisted that he was good on his own and you waited anxiously outside the door, listening to him coughing and retching. You were a wreck. Your nursing skills were slim to none and you were basically useless in this situation. You did, however, have a driver’s license and you decided that you needed to take Peter to the hospital.

“Ok, I’m fine now,” he said as he emerged. He looked ghostly pale and generally ragged.

“Yeah, no,” you said. “I’m taking you to a doctor. I’ll call your aunt and let her know what’s going on, let’s go.”

“Y/N I don’t need a doctor,” he argued. “I feel great! I just want to stay here… Can I crash with you? Will your parents be mad?” You considered it for a moment. Your parents wouldn’t care, they’d known Peter for a while and trusted you enough to have him over. The thought of not having his head checked out made you a little nervous but when you looked at his pleading face you couldn’t say no.

“Fine, but you have to stay close to me in case something happens. I’ll find you a garbage can or something if you feel like you’re going to be sick again. Do you want a change of clothes? I have some of your shirts that you’ve left here.”

“That would be fantastic,” he said weakly. “I’m really sorry, this is all my fault.” He apologized about seven times in a row as you went to grab him a t-shirt.

“Peter, you know I love it when I’m right but if you could please shut up for like a minute that would be great.” You handed him the shirt and he just stared up at you. You raised your eyebrows and he smiled awkwardly.

“I’m wearing the suit under this and I don’t have other pants,” he told you. You rolled your eyes and he laughed despite the pain.

“You have boxers right? I’m not in middle school, I can handle it. Besides, it can’t be any more embarrassing than the skin-tight suit.”

“What’s wrong with the suit?” he asked defensively. You shook your head, not ready to start another argument with him. He carefully pulled off the hoodie and you gasped. There was blood all over the front of the suit that had been hidden from your sight by the sweatshirt.

“I’m good!” he exclaimed, trying to remind you. He pushed the button on the front of his suit and it fell down in a heap on the floor. You got a good look at his chest which was a lot more muscular than you would have thought. There was a big gash going down from his rib cage to his lower stomach that thankfully seemed to have stopped bleeding.

“Hey,” he said. “My eyes are up here.” You felt your face flush and he giggled.

“Oh shut up,” you laughed. “Since when do you have abs? I thought you were a nerd?”

“W-what? Oh uh I guess I just got fit from… fighting crime and stuff,” he stammered. He yanked the shirt over his head, all the carefulness from earlier abandoned. The two of you usually didn’t flirt or feel any weird tension, but suddenly the air felt stifling. He gazed over at you, clearly feeling the awkward mood settling as well.

“Hey, you know maybe I should go and…” you started to say, trailing off as Peter stepped closer to you cautiously. Your heart was beating so loud you were sure that he could hear it too. He looked as nervous as you felt, but the distance between you was closing rapidly. Soon enough he was right in front of you, his eyes fixed on your mouth. You knew what was going on, you just wouldn’t have ever guessed Peter would initiate it like this. His lips dangerously close to yours, he paused.

“Is this ok?” he murmured. You nodded slowly and he went for it. There was the faint taste of copper from the blood on his bottom lip, but that didn’t bother you. You pulled away first, your mind racing. What did this mean for you? Were you friends still or something else?

“Peter, I-” you said softly, but he beat you to it.

“I-I don’t know why I did that,” he said. “I just… I was thinking about what would happen if we weren’t friends and it messed me up inside, you know? After the first day of you ignoring me I knew that I liked you, like a lot. I don’t know if you feel the same way, I shouldn’t have made it weird…”

“I do feel the same way,” you said, surprising even yourself. “Let’s not fight like that again. You’re way too important to me.” You pulled his arm gently and the two of you sat down on the couch together. You were quiet for a moment before you looked over at him.

“Does this mean I’m dating a superhero?” you whispered.

“If you’re cool with it, yeah.”

“Once you feel better will take me on a date and show me how the web thing works?” He rested his head on your shoulder and thought for a moment.

“I think I might feel better tomorrow evening, maybe around 7?”

“You know where to find me, Spiderman.”

#oof!!!#spider man: homecoming #spiderman #spiderman fluff #peter parker #peter parker imagine #tom holland #sam writes!!

218 notes · View notes

sunnysidewrites · 7 years

Text

Street musician!Woozi

Requested by anon: hello! May I please request a Jihoon scenario where he’s a street musician across the street from where you work? Can be angst or fluff, I’ll leave that up to you. Thank you!

here you go anon!!! i chose fluff bc i think ppl need a break from that zombie apocalypse hwiyoung au…. LMAO i hope it was fulfilling to read happy reading from your fav mom!!!

warnings: fluff, the kind where u wanna punch them :))) woozi is a lil shit but what’s new

You’re a waitress at this cozy little restaurant on a fairly busy street

So you have quite a number of customers coming in frequently and have a handful of regulars

The restaurant has picked up popularity as of recent and unfortunately you guys are a little understaffed

So you and just a few other employees are constantly on your toes running back and forth from order to order

It’s a literal workout sigh

And you’re always extremely exhausted and ready to KO after every shift

One day you’re feeling more irritable because of difficult customers and restlessness

You’re bundled up in your lil warm coat while the winter wind chills you down to the bone

“Just a little more until you reach home y/n” you muttered yourself and continued trudging home

When you got to the end of the street your ears perked at a melodious sound

A crowd was increasing by the second and you’re trying to push your way to the front to get a good view bc wOW MUSIC!!1!!

Perched on a bench was a guy and his trusty guitar don’t hurt soonyoung

His slender fingers were picking at the strings and he was so effortlessly hitting high notes

You could have sworn you saw a light shining down on him bc is he an angel

His guitar case is opened wide for people to toss in change

hOLY COW IT’S A LOT MORE THAN WHAT PERFORMERS USUALLY GET

the amount of money sitting in his case was probably just the amount of tips alone you receive in a day already

This guy is going places and you showed that when you threw in a $10 bill

He was busy concentrating on his singing and playing that he was closing his eyes

But right after you tossed in the bill he opened them and caught your gaze

He was starstruck for 0.00001 seconds but he had to quickly end the song

He got whistles and cheers from the gigantic audience but he was blUSHING AND SMILING RIP @ ME

You were also really happy and reenergized after hearing his soothing voice and you looked like :DDD while you clapped

His heart stopped

“Who is this cute girl i’m weak”

You continued walking down to your home right when he mustered up the courage to talk to you

His outstretched hand slowly went back down to his side

:((( he was only a second late sigh

He’s determined to play at that exact spot at the exact same time he did that night

He usually bounces to different areas but maybe he’ll make an exception ;););)

Over the next week or so you take notice of his extended stay in what you call “his little corner”

Not that you minded ofc

He always seems to gaze at you longer than he does at the rest of the crowd but you think you’re just imagining things and you’re getting your hopes up a little too much

He’s always singing cute love songs

Sometimes he would do heartbroken ballads or upbeat renditions

But it would always be related to love!!11!

Lovestruck woozi is a concept

When he finishes his latest cover, he forces himself to catch you before you’re headed off

As per usual you’re wrapping your scarf closer to yourself and start walking further down but he’s like wAIT

You turn around anD IT’S HIM!111! THE COOL STREET MUSICIAN!1!!

“Yes…?”

He’s like o crap i didn’t expect to get this far lMAO WHAt do i DO

“Thanks,,,, for coming,,,, i recognize you as a familiar face for the past few shows,,,,”

Ofc he has he’s been ogling you

You’re like oh!! Well you’re talented ofc i’ll watch!!

And he’s like oHMYGOSH CAN I HIDE

“ahah thank you” he’s blushing while hiding his smile behind his hand wHAT A PURE

You can’t help but notice he’s clearing his throat a little and you’re like hmm??

“Would you like a drink? You sound like you could use it”

He’s like oH WeLL that would be nice but don’t worry about me

“It’s fine1!1!!! I work down at the restaurant and we still have time before we close”

He’s like omg but u just got off work it’s o k a y

You’re like i aM GETTING YOU A DRINK COME WITH ME

Woozi: well isn’t she insistent

Woozi: i like it

And so you drag him back to the restaurant and your coworker is like y/n??? Aren’t you supposed to be at home????

You walk over to them and whisper

“Can you do me a favor and put a drink on the house for him??? He’s been playing out in the cold all week” and you muster your best puppy dog eyes

They’re like nOT THE PUPPY DOG EYES N O DO YOU WANT ME FIRED

“I’m telling our boss you broke the mug his mom gave him”

“:))) what drink would you like sir?? :)) it’s on the house :))) totally completely free of charge :)))”

“O h you don’t have to do that!!!”

“See y/n he says–”

You: “m u g.”

“I inSIST IT’S FREE SIR!!! :))) pLEASE!!! TAKE THE OFFER!!! :))))”

“O-oh okay,,,,, I’ll just have some warm tea,,,, thank you,,,,”

“I’ll be back shortly” and right before they leave they glare at you

You: :-) what’s wrong? :-) certainly not his mug right? :-)

You join him back at the booth and you’re trying to make some small talk by complimenting his performances

Despite how well known he is around the block he’s still a humble little bee get it instead of bumblebee

“Ah.. … .. i’m not that great … ….. ..”

“Wtf you got like $50+?????”

“What n O,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, $40”

Jesus christ woozi

You’re just laughing and shaking your head in disbelief like ok mr music prodigy

You both talk and get to know each other until closing time which is roughly 15 minutes

Your coworker kicks you out and you’re back out on the chilly night streets

“Well,,,, it was nice talking but i should,,,, really head home”

“Yeah i should head back too,,,,,, you’’ll still be here to watch tomorrow right?”

You’re like uH O F C I W I L L

And he’s like ahah ok just,,, checking,,, and he seems to be stalling as he does the smile hiding again pls protect this smol bean

So you linger there with him and it’s just like u have n o i de a what’s going on but it feels like you should also stay with him

You see him closing his eyes and taking a quick breath before exhaling and muttering “just do it woozi”

Before you have a n y time to register it he opens his eyes and kiSS E S YOUR CHEEK AND SCREAMS “ U- UH I’LL SEE YOU T O MORR O W B Y E” AND SCURRIES OFF

And yo U ARE SHOOKETH

It ended as fast as it happened and so you’re like ? ???? ?? what just happened

But you’re like i’m demanding answers tomorrow night

Tomorrow night rolls around and he’s out there in his little corner again

This time he’s like “ok yall today’s song will be ‘20’ by seventeen”

AND YOU’RE LIKE O M G I LOVE THIS SONG????????

He notices you in the crowd the second your face popped up and not once did his eyes leave yours

You’re a blushing mess throughout his song and you combusted 10 times

When he’s done you cheer the loudest and wait for everyone to disperse before engulfing him in a hug

“Is that a proposal” you say when you break away and look at him

He smiles thoughtfully and tugs your waist

“Only if you want it to be ;););)”

“wE A IN’T EVEN DA T IN G PLS”

And he kISSES YOU AGAIN BUT THIS TIME O N THE LI PZZ

And his hand is gently on the back of your neck

Oh my god yall im fucKEN SOFT

“I didn’t see you give me any change today”

“sHUT UP WAS THE KISS NOT GOOD ENOUGH i withdraw from being your s/o smh”

“wAIT NO I WAS KIDDIng!!11!! Kisses are perfectly acceptable payment!!!11”

Damn right they better be

“As they should be :)))” you say before pulling him back in aW YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE

And there begins a sweet relationship full of serenades and free drinks!!!

209 notes · View notes

beebomeebo · 7 years

Text

Numb

Type: fluff

Request// “do you do anything besides smut? if so, can you do a fluff about a girl who's really depressed because her dad and stepmom are total assholes and brenny walks in on her relapsing and everything is all cute and cuddly bc they cry together and i need to be in a fucking relationship when that happens oml”

(A/N) Ahahahahahah sorry guys for being dead for so long, it has NOT been the best year for me but I'm dedicated to get more stuff done and get my shit together. & omg guys, thank you so much for 400 followers!! I’m sitting here in bed at 3:56 in the morning almost crying because I didn’t think my writing was that likable. Anyways, have a dribble drabble

Warnings: sneaky Bren, crying, the tiniest bit of angst, self-doubt, back talking, slight physical fight as well as verbal, cursing, :) fluffy Bren (: , !!no smut!!

Pairing: Brendon Urie x Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

I finally arrive home after a very long day at school. As I walk through my front door I slightly lower my shoulder so my backpack can slide off and heavily meet the wood floor. I throw my hair into a messy ponytail before slugging myself over to the couch. All I wanted at this moment was a nice nap.

I cross into the main hallway and into the living room. Not even bothering to walk around the couch I flip over from the back of it. Landing face down, the fluffy cushions mold to my body as I reach for a throw pillow to place my head on. Right as I close my eyes I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I groan quietly to myself as I dig it out. Keeping my half my face buried into the pillow I bring the screen to my face to read the text message.

Brendon :)

Hey, how did school go?

Too tired to write a real response I type:

Stupid. Gonna sleep, txt u l8r

I then toss my phone onto the coffee table and melt into the warm couch cushions.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

“Y/N! Y/N!”

I’m abruptly yanked out of my dream. My vision goes from black to hazy to a blur. And as my eyes adjust to my surroundings I feel a soft object collide with my face.

“Y/N! Wake up right now!” I turn to realize that my bitch of a stepmother, Sara, had thrown a pillow at me. “I specifically told you to clean the bathroom and the kitchen when you got home. And what have you been doing for the past two hours?”

I peel myself from the couch and glance over at the clock to notice, indeed, that two hours have passed. “Uh, sleeping?”

Obviously very pissed, Sara mumbles between her teeth, “Worthless child.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I retaliate.

“I said, ‘worthless child.’” She replies, this time slightly louder. “All you do around here is eat our food and sleep. You never do chores, you never do anything for this family.”

“What the fuck do you mean I don’t do anything? I literally just gave your dumbass dog a bath.”

“Do not use that language with me.”

“Or what, Sara? Or fucking what?” My blood begins to boil as Sara’s face turns with anger. With my adrenaline up, I quickly stand to face Sara. I was a good five inches taller so I wasn’t really scared of her. Just as I was about to turn around to retire to my bedroom Sara quickly raises her hand and strikes it across my cheek. I stumble slightly but quickly regain my balance. Now beyond pissed, I shove Sara into the kitchen counter behind her and her back collides with the marble. She falls to the ground clutching her back.

She picks her head up and looks up at me. “Go live with your fucking mother.”

“Fuck you.” I spat and then stormed into my room, making sure to grab my phone from the coffee table.

As I was leaving, Sara shouted, “Nobody loves you, you ungrateful brat.”

I shoved earphones into my head and turned the volume as high as it can go. Then I just lay there in my bed, looking up at my ceiling. My vision becomes blurry as droplets of water develop in my eyes and then disappear down my face as I blink them away. Soon, I can only see blurry before I completely shut my eyes and just weep. A small puddle forms on my pillow where my tears have landed. I try to lose myself in the loud songs that played through my headphones but I couldn’t help replay those words: “Nobody loves you.” It was as if my head was a broken stereo and those words were the only songs that would play.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

I stopped crying about twenty minutes ago and now was blankly staring up at my ceiling, imagining what it would be like if my dad never met Sara.

A whole lot better. I thought to myself.

After a few minutes of creating my perfect life with just my dad- one where he never went to that bar and met Sara- I hear a muffled tapping noise through my blaring music. I quickly sit up to see if it was my dad coming in to yell at me. But my door remained closed and unmoved. Shrugging it off as just my imagination I lay back down but here it again. I jerk myself upright and this time I lower my music volume and take an earbud out.

“Yes?” I say quietly. No response. Then, the tapping noise starts up again, this time a bit louder and aggressive. It catches my attention that the sound was coming from my window. Tap tap tap. Unaware of what was waiting for me on the other side of the glass, I grab my softball bat that I kept in the corner of my room. As I slowly creep toward my purple curtains a faint silhouette starts to appear; as I step closer and closer the figure becomes taller and taller. Fear surges through me like lightning as I become only inches away from the sheer that masked the figure. Tap tap tap. I close my eyes, take the deepest breath my lungs can receive, and gather every ounce of courage that I have. Swiftly unmasking the window, I raise my weapon in anticipation of an attack. The figure becomes recognizable from the tall, dark hair to the sharp line of their jaw. I pause in space as my mind races to attach a name to the face.

“Brendon.” I breathe with relief mixed with surprise.

“Y/N, let me in! And why are you wielding a bat?” The boy says through the glass.

“What are you doing here?” I asked hushed so Sara wouldn’t hear me. Setting the bat against the wall I unlock the window and lift the glass so Brendon can crawl through.

“You weren’t answering my calls and texts and I got worried.” He says to my back as I close the window and pull the curtains over to cover it. I sigh in response.

“I just haven’t been in the mood to talk to anyone,” I say turning around to meet him.

Brendon’s face shifts from soft to concern as his eyebrows furrow and his puffed lips gap open. His stocky fingers gently graze the side of my face that had previously made contact with Sara’s palm. My eyes darted to his shoes. He wore his favorite worn sneakers and I noticed there was still dirt on them from waiting outside the window.

“Don’t tell my Sara did this.” His voice was stern yet soft.

I stayed silent, scared that if I speak my words will catch in the back of my throat. I clench my jaw to pull back tears that were forming.

Brendon cloaks me with his arms as I’m pulled into his chest. My arms wrap around his torso and hold tightly onto him. We stand there for a moment in perfect silence.

“What did Ms. Skank do this time?” Brendon asks gently pulling away from me and pulling me toward the bed to sit down.

I sat on my cross leg next to him as I relive the entire scene, making sure to tell Brendon every moment I could recall.

“’Go live with your mother?’ What kind of person says that type of thing?” He asks with disbelief.

I shrug, staring at my wood floor. “She knew it would hurt me. That’s why she said it.” I feel the similar adrenaline kick as my heart picks up speed. My jaw clenches, my fists close tightly, and my body stiffens as I reply every moment that Sara has made me feel worthless and stupid. Then I think of my mom, how gentle she would be, how understanding. My muscles soften at the memories of her.

Noticing my change in mood, Brendon squeezes my hand and pulls me to his chest. I rest my head on his shoulder and he rubs my arm.

“I miss her so much.” I finally whisper, teardrops hitting Brendon’s leg.

“I know, I know.” He hushes, gently placing a kiss in my hair.

I break away from him. “You know, if I hadn’t gone to that party this never would have happened.” I choked.

“Y/N, don’t blame yourself. This is not your fault.” Brendon’s puppy dog eyes scan my face and I notice that a thin film of water was developing on his bottom lash line.

I break away from his eye contact and lower my head to hide my face. “Sometimes I wish I was with her. Forever.”

Stumbling on his words Brendon chokes, “Please don’t ever say that, Y/N. I need you. You’re the only thing that’s real in this shit hole of a town. If you left I don’t know what I would do.”

I finally gather the strength to look up at Brendon; his eyes were bloodshot and puffy, there were small rivers running down his face and his bottom lip quivered. I crash into his chest and let all my emotions go. All the pain and hurt that I’ve been bottling up pours out of like a waterfall as I clutch onto Brendon. He began sobbing along with me. In that moment, we were both vulnerable. Yet, together, we were strong.

After what felt like ages, the sobbing calms and we’re both just left holding each other. I break away to wipe my smeared makeup off my face but Brendon beats me to it. “I’m sorry for being such an ugly crier,” I whisper into his hand.

“Join the club.” He chuckles and I catch a glimpse of the hairpin curl of his smile.

I smile weakly at his joke.

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up and watch some movies, huh?” He raises and offers his hand.

I nod and accept his hand in mine as he leads me to my bathroom. I blankly stare into my mirror as Brendon turns on the shower. My body feels numb and exhausted from crying and all I can do is stare at my reflection. Noticing my lack of movement Brendon wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my shoulder. I hold his strong arms. We make eye contact through the reflection and I become lost in his deep brown eyes.

“You know, you’re the most beautiful girl at school.” He speaks to me. “I was so nervous to speak to you last year. And when you said yes to going on that date- after like, five attempts- I was beyond excited. You make me feel like a kid in a candy shop.” His cheesy words force my cheeks to redden and I try to muffle my laughter. “And you taste just as sweet.” He winks and smiles at his own humor.

I roll my eyes and break away from his grip. “Ok. It’s time for you to leave.” I laugh as I playfully shove him out of the bathroom.

“The way you scream my name is so sexy!” He says quickly before I close the door on him.

“Shut up!” I yell through the door. Once in peace, I grin like an idiot. Stripping my clothes off my body I feel the water and once naked, I step into the steaming chamber. Every muscle relaxes as I lose myself in the water.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

I turn off the shower and step onto my bathmat. The yarn bristles tickle the space in between my toes. I reach for my towel and wrap it around my wet body. Opening the door, I notice Brendon sitting on my bed flipping through Netflix. His attention switches to me.

“Feel better?” He smiles.

“A little,” I answer making my way to my closet.

“Oh, I already got your PJs ready.” He lifts a pile of fabric that was at his side. I smile and take the clothing from him.

We stare at each other for a moment before he gets the idea and turns his back to me. I face my back to him as I let the towel drop to my feet. And quickly slip on the warm, soft fabric. I turn around to a smiling Brendon.

“Were you watching the entire time?” I laugh, chucking the towel at his head, landing on his head and drapes over his face.

“Maybe.” He sings through the towel. “You’re just so sexy.” He chuckles, removing the towel from his face.

I roll my eyes while I take my place next to him. “So, what are we watching?”

“Well, I was thinking either Finding Dory or Minions.” He showcases the most childlike grin.

“Really?” I say sarcastically, “Kid movies?”

“Finding Dory it is!” He pecks my cheek and clicks on the movie title. I roll my eyes as he pulls me to his chest. Shuffling my body, I adjust to cuddle up to him. My arm drapes perfectly around his torso and I feel the steady movements of his breathing. Brendon nestles his face against my hair, planting a kiss on it. “You know I love you, right?”

“Shut up and watch the movie.” I tease.

“Well fuck you, too, then.”

245 notes · View notes