hi I wrote this thing very late at night (or very early morning???) It starts off shitty and dramatic but it actually has a plot.
I only put a little but up for you to see so you can read the rest under the cut.
Keith has never been in love.
He thought he was, at one point. The head-over-heels kind, in fact. The first love kind. The reckless kind.
Love, he learned, was not where you give every part of your heart or soul to your loved one. It was not where you put everything on the line for the other person, uncaring about the repercussions. It wasn’t the warm, tingly feeling you get when you look at the person you gave your entire life for. That feeling of being on top of the world when you hold their hand or kiss their cheek in public.
It certainly wasn’t what they show in the movies.
And so, Keith, at the tender age of eighteen, got his heart broken so far into oblivion that he lost a part of himself in the process.
I’m avoiding my homework, so I wrote this little silliness! Set during the season of secret sex.
The first time Mulder spends the night at Scully’s after
they’ve slept together, he wakes up practically hanging off the bed. And he’s
shivering. He distinctly remembers spooning up behind her and wrapping his arms
around her chest and her waist, engulfing her. Why he isn’t still snuggly
behind her now, he doesn’t understand. Scully usually is not one for
touchiness, but Mulder has learned that post-coital Scully will hang on to him
for dear life. So when Mulder comes to almost full-consciousness and realizes that
if he moves even an inch to his left he will fall completely off the bed, he attempts
to slide to his right and resume being curled up behind Scully. Instead, he
turns over and comes into contact with Scully’s feet, which apparently don’t
welcome his presence. Scully, without waking, proceeds to kick his shins until
his legs dangle off the side of the bed.
He looks over his shoulder to find Scully completely wrapped
in her comforter and sheets, sprawled diagonally across the bed. He goes to
push her legs back to her side, but instead she rolls onto her stomach and
brings her hand out to grab the pillow Mulder was using, tucking it into her
Mulder groans, conceding defeat, and finds his boxers on the
floor, slipping them on before attempting to rouse Scully from her slumber. He
places his hand on her shoulder and shakes her slightly. “Scully, wake up.”
She stretches, and Mulder can’t believe how much more area
of the bed she spans. He chuckles and shakes his head, not knowing it was
possible for a woman this small to take up this much room. In airplanes and the
passenger seat of the car, she curls herself into sleep without hesitation,
lulled by the movement of the various forms of transportation. Mulder envies
how easy it is for her to fall asleep in such situations, and how even smaller
she manages to make herself. Her bed, apparently, is a different story.
Scully blinks her eyes open slowly, aware of Mulder’s
presence looming over her. She gives him a sleepy smile and a quiet but
“Scully, are you aware of how much of a bed hog you are?”
She looks at him as if he just told her that he’s no longer a Knicks fan. “I am
not.” Her voice is hoarse, either from sleep or last night, she’s not sure, so she clears her throat.
“Scully you are sleeping diagonally in a queen-sized bed,
and you pretty much kicked me off a few minutes ago. And you took all the
blankets with you! Tell me that’s not hogging.”
“I do not sleep diagonally.”
He thrusts his arms out as a way of saying, “take a look at yourself,” his eyes
expressing disbelief. “My back and legs beg to differ.”
“Well, you’re one to talk. If I fall asleep with my head on
your chest, you always take my pillow, leaving me with nothing when I
eventually roll over. We’ve shared a bed plenty of times, why has this never
“It’s never happened before! Which is why I’m confused.” He knows the next
thing he says is going to offend her, but in his mind, it’s the only logical
explanation. “We’ve never shared your
bed before. At least not after sex. I think you’re trying to make sure it never
“Mulder what on earth?”
“You know what I think? I think that this new aspect of our relationship maybe
is too much for you, and you’re trying to tell me that while we can sleep
together, your bed will always be ‘your’ bed, party of one.”
She’s sitting up fully now, the flush of her face almost
matching the color of her hair. He’s managed to piss her off before 8 a.m. on a
Saturday. “Mulder, are you kidding me? This is ridiculous! You’re being
dramatic, and you’re overanalyzing my sleeping habits.”
Although he wants to dive deeper into the root of her
diagonal sleeping, Mulder can’t help the laugh that escapes his throat. He
flops back down onto the bed, turning to look at Scully. “You’re cute when
you’re mad at me.”
“Your face is the same color as your hair right now, and
you’ve got this look that screams ‘I shot you once, don’t think I won’t shoot
you again.’ And it’s adorable.”
“Mulder, thirty seconds ago you were angry because I kicked
you out of bed in my sleep, convincing yourself that I don’t want you in my bed, and now you’re
saying I’m cute because I’m frustrated and trying to prove you wrong?”
“It’s early and I haven’t had coffee yet. I’m not
responsible for anything I may say or do until I have some caffeine in my system.”
Scully takes the pillow from behind her back and flings it
at his face. With Mulder caught off guard, she takes the opportunity to crawl
on top of him and pin him to her bed, her thighs on either side of his waist.
“Am I cute now, Mr. Morning Breath?”
“Frighteningly so, Blanket Thief.”
“Lover of an alien lover.”
This time, she’s the one that can’t contain her laughter. It’s the
kind of laugh that brightens Mulder’s eyes and makes his heart swell with complete affection, a grin
plastered to his face. He brings her head down so their lips can meet, and it’s a kiss so
fierce and full of passion that they’re both panting, struggling for air, when they come
apart. She brings her weight down on top of his torso, and he tucks her head under
“Are you still frustrated with me?”
“I’m always frustrated with you. But in this case, I can forgive you if you can
forgive me for taking up the whole bed.”
“Aha, so you admit to being a bed hog?”
Scully chuckles and brings her hand up to draw lazy circles
on his chest. “I’ve never been great at sharing. Especially my bed. It’s always
kind of been my safe place.” Mulder lets out a rueful sigh. “Mulder, I’m not
kicking you out on purpose. I’ll get better. It’s been a while since I’ve
actually wanted to share my bed with anyone. I think I just need more practice.
Let’s go back to sleep. It’s Saturday, and we don’t have to be anywhere. Plus
we were up late last night doing… well, not sleeping. I’m exhausted.”
He kisses the top of her head and hauls them further up the bed. Scully reaches
down and grabs the covers, draping them over the both of their bodies. She
closes her eyes and exhales against Mulder’s chest. She can hear his
heartbeat as a result of where her head is resting, and she thinks it may be
one of her new favorite sounds. The warmth of his skin and the blankets, along
with his hand rubbing back and forth over her lower back, drags Scully back
“Mulder,” she says, just before sleep overtakes her.
Los Santos is a pretty weird place, so of course they’d have one of the most extravagant pride parades ever. They’ve got balloons and floats and the whole nine yards. LSPD is just hoping the FAHC doesn’t use the opportunity to try to rob a bank or something, ya know. What no one is expecting is a sudden rainbow of colored flares shooting over the crowd. And there’s a big explosion as the boys whip out their fireworks launcher that Geoff gave them for the 4th of July. There are fireworks and flares /everywhere/ for a good bit. Then it goes strangely quiet and everyone is tense, waiting to see what the deadliest crew of all time is about to do.
What they don’t expect is for all of them, B Team included, to come sweeping over everyone in their rainbow parachutes. And they’re dropping candy and stolen goods all over, careful to not hurt a soul. It’s a day of pride and they’re not there to ruin anyone’s fun. And if they see someone so much as look at them with disgust for flaunting their pride… oops the fucker is on fire. Was that a flare? And Gavin had managed to hack into every speaker anywhere close to the parade and starts playing Lady Gaga’s Born This Way.
“*slowly creeps out of blanket fort* is there any chance for a part three to blessings? ily”
A/N- (I GOT ALL OF YOUR BACKS!! There will be one more part after this and oh man I’ve had the idea for this next part since the night after I posted part one and I just can’t wait to get to it you guys like ugh! I hope I can pull it off right because if I do, you’re gonna cry (: Also, I get to research so much about 18th century fashion for these fics you guys I love it. ALSO ALSO TJeffs has a clothing kink (esp lace) and no one can tell me otherwise. )
“I hate this.” Thomas sighed. You nodded. Your head was rested on his bare chest as he leaned against the headboard. Your palm rested flat against his heartbeat. His arm went along your back until his hand came to rest on your hip. His other hand rested on top of yours, his thumb rubbing small circles there.
“Well Thomas,” You shifted slightly. “if I knew you hated cuddling with me so much, I would have never come.” You got up.
“Get the fuck back over here, Y/N.” you heard Thomas say. You smiled and turned around, crawling back over to him. You placed a kiss on his cheek and resumed your position. “I hate that I can’t be with you publicly.” he sighed. You nodded, feeling a weight on your chest. “You can only come over when the sun has gone down, and you have to leave before it rises.”
“Speaking of…” You looked toward the window.
“No. Please no.” Thomas brought your face back to his and kissed you. “One more time.” he pleaded against your lips. You pulled away from him.
“Thomas, we’ve done enough!” You laughed slightly. “You’ll see me tonight.” you reasoned. He pouted at you. “Fine.” you sighed.
You rolled off of him and grabbed the object of off the table by his bed. He looked at you eagerly as you opened it up. You rolled your eyes.
“What chapter were we on?” you asked, fingering along the pages.
“Twenty-one.” he confirmed. You nodded and faced him, crossing your legs in front of you and keeping a sheet wrapped around your bare body. You started to read the book aloud to him. A large grin spread across his face. You let your eyes float over the words on the page. Every once in awhile, you chanced a glance up at the man you loved. Sometimes his head was against the bedframe, eyes closed letting the sound of your voice watch over him. Otherwise, he stared at you with adoring eyes, hanging on to everything you said. When he got a giddy expression on his face, you knew that you were about to find something really good in the book.
“Thoms, you’ve already read this. Why must I read it to you?” you sighed.
“Because I know that you’ll love this one,” he explained, “and I love seeing your reactions to it. I like hearing your voice.” You blushed and looked down. He leaned over to you, pushing the book out of your hands. “Your intelligence is attractive.” He whispered in your ear. His hand traveled up your bare thigh, tracing patterns he had followed a million times before.
“Th-Thomas.”you stuttered, feeling flustered. Thomas was the only man that had ever made you feel weak, vulnerable, and dependent.
“Hm?” He hummed, kissing along your neck.
“Thomas we can’t.” you breathed, stretching your neck to him despite yourself. He sighed and hung his head. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down. He cupped your cheek with one of his hands. You stared up into to his eyes feeling utterly breathless. You didn’t know when Thomas had completely captured every part of your being, but there was nothing you could about it now, not that you would have wanted to. Thomas nodded slowly and placed a kiss on your forehead before backing away from you.
You both got off his bed and dressed yourselves by the low light of the candles. You had long since given up trying to dissuade him from walking you home. At least you had convinced him to only accompany you for half the journey. If anyone saw you with him at these hours, both of your reputations would be ruined, yours especially.
You held on to Thomas’ arm as you walked through the empty streets, humming to yourself quietly. Thomas smiled down at you.
“What?” you asked, feeling embarrassed.
“Nothing.” He looked out toward the street again. “I’m just certain that you’re the only thing I love more than myself.” he smirked.
“Shut up.” You pushed into him and laughed. Your face fell, however, when you noticed your surroundings. The familiar lamp post came into view. Your meeting, and parting, spot. You stopped walking and turned to him. His hand traveled down your face while eyes gazed down at you.
“Stop wondering at me, Thomas.” you teased.
He smiled. “ ‘Wonder is involuntary praise’ my dear,” Quoting Edward Young had become a thing between you two. “and my praise is all voluntary.” He twirled a piece of your hair between his thumb and forefinger. “Will you be at the ball tonight?” he asked. You nodded.
“Sam is taking me.” you said quietly.
“Aha. ‘Sam’. Great.” he said bitterly.
You rolled your eyes. “Thomas, you know I have to.” Dwelling on this too long broke your heart. He nodded and pressed his forehead to yours.
“I know. “ he whispered. “Will you spare a moment for me?”
“If we can make it look natural.” you replied. He nodded.
“I’ll look for the purple dress tonight then.”
You furrowed your brow. “How do you-”
“It’s your favorite one.” He grinned at you. You smiled and kissed him slowly, unsure of when you would be able to see him like this again. Against your deepest desires, you pulled away from him.
“Soon Thomas.” You placed a hand on his cheek. “I promise I will find a way for us to be together soon.” He nodded and kissed your hand.
“Goodbye Y/N.” he whispered.
“Goodbye, Thomas.” You turned from him and walked away, feeling his eyes on you. It wasn’t goodbye forever, but that didn’t make it any less hard to be apart from him until the next time you could slip away undetected.
You arrived back at your house about an hour before the first signs of sunrise and slept well into the afternoon.
“Y/N!” your mother called, bursting into your room. “You must get up! Samuel will be here soon to take you to the ball, and you know how difficult these gowns can be!” She gestured to your closet. You sighed and rolled out of your cold empty bed. “Which one shall it be?”
You smiled softly. “The purple one.” you said almost dreamily.
Your mother frowned. “Didn’t you just wear that one?” Her hands sorted through your wardrobe, purposefully avoiding the one you wanted.
“Yes, it’s my favorite.” You walked over to the closet and pulled it out, placing the fabric on your bed. You smiled fondly at it.
“It’s the biggest and most difficult one.” your mother quipped.
“I know.” Your hand ran over the dark cloth. It was big and fancy and eye catching. Thomas had only been partially right. This dress was your favorite, but only because you’d realized how much Thomas liked it.
“Well, put your undergarments on then.” your mother resigned. You squealed excitedly and went over to your dressers. You quickly pulled on a pair of drawers and buttoned up the camisole, putting the purple blouse the matched the skirt over top of it. You grabbed your violet corset, trying to hook it on quickly before your mother could interfere. Unfortunately, you heard her voice behind you.
“We’ll have to tighten this, dear.” She tugged on one of the ribbons.
“Must we?” you whined. “We tighten it every time I wear it! I won’t be able to breathe!”
“Are you a woman of poise or not?” Your mother raised and eyebrow. You sighed and propped yourself against the dresser. She stepped behind and pulled on the two loops of ribbon, adjusting the top to match. You let her tug and pull until she was satisfied, effectively trapping you in cloth and ribbing.
“There.” She took a step back with a smile. You straightened and looked in the mirror. “I think Samuel will like this.” Your mother raised her eyebrows and gestured to your breasts which were now slightly spilling over your corset.
“Mother!” You reached behind you to hit her arm. She laughed and walked over to your closet. You smiled and sat down on your bed, pulling on a pair of black stockings.
“Black? Really?” your mother said, somewhat shocked. You nodded, remembering Thomas’ words.
“Black stockings? That’s new…”
“Does it bother you?”
“No..no I kind of like it. They’re dark and…sexy.”
“Well, I’ve been enjoying darker clothes lately. They match my new black bra would you like to see?”
“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”
You smiled and attached the stocking to the garters on your corset.
“Ready for this?” Your mother held up the crinoline. You nodded and stood up. She walked over to you and placed it in front of your feet. You stepped into it and, pulling the hoops up, attached it at your waist. Your mother put and petticoat over your head and then the violet fabric of the matching skirt. You grinned as she adjusted the two fabric to cover your hoops.
Your mother walked you over to the mirror. “Are you sure? Samuel prefers a pastel yellow and this color clashes wildly with that.”
“Yes, but it complements magenta.” you thought.
“I’m sure.” You ran your hands over the fabric fondly.
“What shall we do with your hair then?” Your mother picked up a handful of it and let it drop. You stared down at your locks, once again thinking of Thomas.
“I like your hair like this. You should wear it down in public.”
“It is not ‘proper’ or ‘feminine’ for a lady to wear her hair wild and unkempt.”
“Y/N, I’ve been in bed with you. While I can attest to your femininity, you are by no means proper.”
You blushed at the memory. “I think I’ll leave it down.”
Your mother gave a scandalized gasp. “Y/N! This is an official event! At least pin the front back!” You sighed and nodded, knowing that you had a reputation to upkeep. You sat down in front of your mirror and grabbed a few pins, pulling back the front few strands from your face and attaching them to the back of your head. You turned toward your mother.
“Satisfied?” you asked, slightly annoyed.
“It will have to do.” your mother grumbled. “Now, Samuel will be here any minute. Go wait in the parlor and make yourself look respectable.”
You nodded and walked carefully down the stairs. You grabbed a book Thomas had recommended to you and sat down in one of the chairs. You had only made it through two pages when your mother whisked in with tea.
“Y/N no!” she exclaimed. You looked up from your book reluctantly. “Men want and intelligent woman, but not that intelligent!” She took the book from your hands and placed a much less stimulating one in them. You sighed and started to flip through it.
Soon enough, Sam arrived wearing a pale yellow suit. He took his hat off and smiled before bending to kiss your mother’s hand. You gently put the book down and stood.
“Y/N…” Samuel breathed. “You look beautiful.” he spoke with an obvious glance at your chest. Your mother smirked beside you and you groaned internally.
“And you look very handsome, Samuel.” You held your hand out and he kissed it.
“Have you time for tea?” your mother asked as a courtesy.
“I hate to decline, but we really must be going.” he said. You nodded, eager to drop the pretenses of a relationship with this man. He walked you out to the carriage. As soon as the doors closed, you let out a breath.
“How is your beloved?” you asked Samuel. He let out a small laugh and glanced out the window of the carriage.
“She’s…great.” he said. “And yours?”
“Wonderful.” you smiled. He looked down at you with a pained expression.
“Do you think you will ever tell me who he is?”
“Maybe.” you shrugged. Samuel nodded and looked away. “Sam?” you asked.
“When will we bring this up to our families? I believe they are picking a date for a wedding now, and I don’t want their planning to go to waste. If we attend too many events together, it could become a scandal. ”
Samuel smiled softly. “Soon, we just have to wait for the right time.”
You frowned slightly, not fully understanding when the ‘right time’ would be. You kept the conversation light during the ride, Samuel gazing at you the whole time.
When you stepped into the large hall, your eyes instantly searched for Thomas. Despite how tall he was, you could not find him amongst the crowd. You sighed and allowed Samuel to walk you over to his friends. You talked and laughed with them, but you were distracted. Samuel had asked you a question.
“Hmm?” you said, turning your attention back to him.
“I said shall we dance?”
You nodded and allowed him to take you among the couples dancing together. His hand went to your waist, and you placed one on his shoulder. The two of you danced and laughed across the ballroom for quite a long time until a dark hand appeared on Sam’s shoulder. You stopped swaying.
“Hello there. Thomas Jefferson.” Your lover held his hand out to your fiancee. Samuel took it hesitantly. “Would you mind if I danced with Miss L/N for a bit?” Thomas looked tense. Samuel gave you a look that basically said, “You never told me the man you’re in love with wrote the Declaration of Independence.” You shrugged and looked up to Thomas.
“Of course, Mr. Jefferson.” Samuel turned to walk away, but leaned back over and kissed your cheek before disappearing into the crowd. Thomas glared after him, practically steaming at the ears.
“Thomas?” you asked quietly. He turned back to you and visibly relaxed, taking you into his arms and saying to the music.
“I don’t like him.” Thomas said quietly.
“He’s a nice man, Thomas.” you reasoned.
“He’s fallen for you.” Thomas’ grip on your waist tightened significantly as if claiming his territory.
“What? Thomas that’s ridiculous.” You leaned away from him to look at his face.
“I can see it in the way he looks at you. He loves you.” Thomas insisted.
“He loves someone else. He’s trying to help us be together.” you insisted, gesturing between the two of you. Thomas ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Let me talk to your family.” he pleaded.
“Thomas…” you warned.
“Why can’t I try to convince your father?”
You sighed and looked down. “My father….he hates France. He sides with Britain on everything. He’s a federalist. He’d never listen to you, Thomas.”
Thomas sighed and looked down at you. “You’re breathtaking.” he whispered. You glanced around. Thankfully, no one was paying attention to either of you.
“You look good too.” you winked.
“I know! Isn’t this fabulous!” he gestured to his suit and you laughed at his eagerness. “This can’t be comfortable, though. I hope you feel alright.” He ran a hand along your side, referring to your corset.
You shrugged. “I’m used to it.” He smiled. You saw Samuel approaching you over Thomas’ shoulder. The mood quickly turned sour. Thomas turned and followed your gaze, his stare intense. He turned to you quickly.
“I love you. Never forget that.” he whispered before stepping away. His hands were quickly replaced by Samuel, who smiled down at you eagerly.
You spent the rest of the night away from Thomas. You danced with Samuel, and Thomas danced with a few different girls, all of them more than willing to spend time with him.
“Y/N. Will you take a walk with me?” Samuel asked suddenly. You smiled and nodded. He led you out into the cool night air, along a moonlit path.
“I have something to tell you.” Samuel confessed.
“Of course.” you replied, turning to him. He took both of your hands in his, and you felt the strong urge to tear them away.
“Rosalie left me.”
“What?” you gasped. “Why?”
“I told her about our arrangement. Turns out she only wanted my status, and when it become apparent that she couldn’t marry me anytime soon, she left.” He looked down at your intertwined hands.
“Sam, I’m so sorry!” you gasped.
“It’s…fine. It was awhile ago.”
You furrowed your brow. “How long ago?”
Samuel avoided your eyes. “Several months..”
“Samuel!” you dropped his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I meant to! I promise I did…but something happened.”
“What?” You had the distinct feeling a bomb was about to drop. Your mouth went dry. Sam wasn’t answering your question. “What happened, Samuel?”
His eyes met yours. “I fell in love with you Y/N.”
“You what?” you stuttered.
“I don’t know when it happened, but I know that I love you Y/N.” he said sincerely.
“You’re in love, I know. With Thomas Jefferson of all people!” He threw his arms up in frustration. You took a step back. “Look, I’m not asking you to feel the same way, but…” He took a step closer to you. “I think if…if you gave us a chance. You’d see that I can make you happy, Y/N. Really happy.”
You felt sick. You wanted to run. You wanted to find Thomas and have him hold you, but you couldn’t move. You couldn’t.
“I’ll…I want to give you some time to think about it. So…I’ll send you home in the carriage, but…if you choose to stay with Thomas, I only ask that you put me out of my misery, and tell your family. I can’t stand having you pretend to love me it would just…it would hurt too much.”
You nodded. “Of course.” you whispered. He sighed and brought you to the front of a hall, situating you in a carriage and sending you home.
You cried the whole way.
You stayed in your bedroom for a week, barely talking to anyone else. You didn’t cry. You didn’t get angry. You just thought. You thought of Samuel. You thought of pros and cons. You thought of worst case scenarios. You thought of Thomas. Boy, did you think of Thomas. You thought of Thomas until you couldn’t feel a thing anymore.
And when you’d made your decision you thought of him ten times more. You thought of him so much that when he was actually standing in front of you, it was hard to tell if he was real or not.
“Y/N? It’s the middle of the day. What are you doing here?” His expression shifted from confused to concerned. “What happened? What did he do? Are you okay?” He tried to pull you inside but you shook your head.
“Thomas…” Your voice nearly broke as you said his name. “I need to talk to you.”
“Of course, what is it, love?”
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “I can’t be with you.” you squeaked. His face fell.
“What?” His voice sounded so heartbroken. “What happened?”
“I…I have to marry Samuel. It’s the only way.” you whispered, unable to meet his eyes.
“It’s not the only way!” he argued.
“Thomas please.” you begged trying not to cry. He took your face in his hands and forced your eyes to meet his.
“Look at me. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.”
You closed your eyes, feeling several tears slip out. You did love Thomas, but the issue was bigger than that. It involved your whole family. You opened your eyes.
“Thomas Jefferson, I don’t love you.” you said firmly. Thomas stared at you. He did nothing but stare. “I have to go.” you whispered.
“Yeah.” he spat. “Yeah, you should go.”
You wanted to speak, but you had nothing more to say, so you turned and walked from his house, letting the tears flow down your face. When you got back to the street, you heard a door slam behind you.
Can you write this Jerome Valeska imagine based on the song Take on Me by Aha? Jerome’s actions affected Y/N to make comics about him- mostly comics of them together. After spilling her blood on her page from a paper cut, she accidentally brings Jerome to life. He takes her on a journey in the comic world? - @purityimagines
It was a cold day;
your fingers went numb even though a pile of clothes covered your body. The cold
air managed to get underneath your clothes and continue to freeze you by the
second. So you decided to head down to a café just two blocks away from your
apartment. You grabbed your comic book and handbag and left your apartment,
As you entered the café
and a gust of warm air hit your face. The smell of coffee filled the air. Luckily
enough, it started raining outside and you managed to get in the café shop just
in time. You sat next to the window and observed the people running to find
shelter. Then it hit you! You had brought your comic book. As you opened the
comic book, the first character that hit you was the ginger man…Jerome Valeska.
Your eyes were glued to his face.
You were snapped
out of the moment when the waitress came to take your order. “I’d like to have
a coffee please.” You said politely. The waitress smiled and confirmed your
order. Your eyes went back to Jerome. Your eyes began scanning the text that
followed with every drawing. In a few minutes your warm coffee arrived. The waitress
gave you the bill.
You took a sip from
your warm coffee and turned the comic to the next page. You looked at your
finger and saw blood coming out of your finger. Paper cut. You grabbed a napkin that came with the coffee and
wiped the blood off. You looked back at the comic and saw three drops of your
blood right under Jerome’s face. You sighed and tried not to explode; you had
just bought the comic book the day before.
You drank up your
coffee and looked back at the comic book but the three small droplets of blood
disappeared. You looked at the comic book in turmoil. You flipped the pages
over and over again but nothing. Not a single drop. You looked at the clock but
the second hand wasn’t working so you took your phone out. Dead battery. “It was 100% this morning.” You said so to pass
the time you took out your drawing book filled with comics of you and Jerome
together. You smiled down at the drawing of you and Jerome kissing.
Suddenly you saw a
hand reaching out from the comic book. Your eyes widened and they looked around
to see if anyone is staring at you. You looked at Jerome again and he winked. The
hand reached out even more. You put your hand in the mysterious hand and he
suddenly sucked you in.
“Jerome.” You said in amazement. “Hello Y/N.” Your eyes widened
even more and your heart beat increased.
“You know my name.”
course. How cannot I not know a name of such a beautiful lady like you?” You
were lost in words. In the comic books he seemed like a maniac, a villain.
looked over your shoulder and swallowed. “Come with me.” He grabbed your hand
and began running. You turned around to see Jim Gordon and Bullock running
after you and Jerome. He pulled you in a room and closed the door shut. “Why are
they running after us?” You asked breathless. “Well we’re in your comic book
and this is the part where Jim and Bullock run after us…”
He paused for a
moment. “And as you drew, this is the part where we kiss.” You pursed your lips
as you turned beet red. “Well Jerome, today seems like my lucky day.” He smiled
at you and slowly leaned in. His soft lips pressed against yours. He cupped
your face and pulled you closer to him.
wrapped around his neck and stood on your tip toes because damn…he was taller
than you imagined. As you opened your eyes you found yourself at your home in
front of your desk. I was just at the café.How am I home? You looked at the door
and saw Jerome leaning on the door frame, smiling. “Why am I here?” You asked
this is where you live, right?”
but I liked being in the comic.” You said as you got up from your chair and
walked over to Jerome. He took your hands in his hands and said “Well this can
be our comic book.” He looked around the room and his eyes landed back on
yours. “I love you Y/N.”