know, I keep seeing posts talking about what a horrible liar Kara is. But the
fact of the matter is Kara is probably one of the best liars I’ve ever seen on TV.
wait. The entirety of National City knows Kara’s Supergirl, you may be
thinking. How can she be a good liar? But that’s the thing—her secret isn’t
that Kara Danvers is Supergirl.
only been Supergirl for the past year or so. But still, she’s been lying for
well over a decade about who she is—and
successfully. The thing about Clark—and they’ve addressed this in season 1—is he
may as well be human. They’ve talked about this with Astra, and then they’ve
shown this Myriad. Because in Clark’s head, he’s
not Kryptonian. His powers make him stand apart, but when he solar flares,
his most likely thought process is I’m
human now. To Kara, it would be I’m
now powerless. And there is a difference. Krypton is much more
technologically advanced, yes, but that is not the only difference between
Earth and Krypton.
cannot emphasize enough Kara is not
human. Kara’s alienness isn’t contingent upon her abilities—superpowers or
no superpowers, she’s always Kryptonian.
plenty of people probably have figured out that Kara is Supergirl—but that’s
pretty much it. What people know about Kara’s past is that she’s Superman’s
cousin, and that’s it. And clearly, Kara is younger than Superman—most people
aren’t going to think “yup. She was probably put in suspended animation in some
way.” I mean the conspiracy theorists might, but not really the overwhelming
people on Earth. (listen. You gotta draw a line somewhere)
people are going to think ‘Occam’s Razor’—that Kara’s mom, or dad, or both, got
off Krypton at the same time as Superman, and a decade later had Kara, and that
there’s a very good chance that Supergirl is half human, or at the very least
born on Earth and raised as a human. It’s what’s logical, isn’t it? The simplest answer is usually the correct one.
not. English isn’t her first
language, and she grew up with a very different culture, undergone a host of
different experiences that most humans couldn’t even imagine. Hell, she wasn’t
even born the same way—Clark was the first natural Kryptonian birth in years. That means Kara was not. Kara was born via the Codex—really,
if James was surprised at the depths of Kara’s anger over losing Krypton (back
in season 1—you know, where Kara got to have more than 3 emotions), or how
surprised he was to find out what Kara’s family crest really meant, how surprised
would they be at everything she’d decide to just stop hiding?
Kara is so very good at hiding. Kara
Danvers is real, yeah, but it’s someone she had to build. One of the very
subtle, but telling moments happened in the first episode of season two, when
Kara and Clark were getting off the elevator, and Clark had a clumsy moment
where he ran into someone and knocked all their things to the ground. After he
apologized and helped the person pick up their things, Kara asked him “wow, you
really have the whole clumsy thing down, don’t you?” “Oh no, that was real.” Key
word here is thing. As in, I
have a routine I go through to distract people and to seem harmless.
And this is just the tip of the iceberg, of routines and acts Kara must go
through to make herself seem human. Kara Danvers is real, but part of that identity is a persona she constantly embodies–clumsy, absentminded, horrible at math and science, cute but not drop dead gorgeous, a bit quirky always happy, harmless, invisible, human.
And so it’s not surprising that all of these people are figuring out her identity, but that’s not really what Kara’s held close to her chest, not like Clark. Kara’s anger and loss and just general alienness–that is her secret. This is what she’d confide, this is what she’d have to truly trust someone to reveal. This is what the culmination of trust would look like, trust in Cat or Lena or Maggie (or hell even Barry, who sure knows Kara is an alien but. He doesn’t really seem to grasp the implications of that–oh i didn’t realize Kara got mad).
years, Kara kept herself hidden, keep herself secret. But Kara’s secret isn’t
that she’s Supergirl, a human with powers.Kara’s secret is that she is angry and mad and hurting. But most of all, Kara’s secret is that she is not human.
Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are riding the Indomitable onto Kothlis, relying completely on Obi-Wan and Anakin communicating telepathically since their comms are jammed for the foreseeable future.
Things are getting messy as Grievous attempts to take out the Republic fleet.
At first, you’re like wow Obi-Wan is being a tad salty. Can’t he calm down? But then-
He turns it into a cute little teaching moment. He’s so unsure of his own mentoring abilities. And he’s so proud of Anakin- I jus- I can’t handle this.
I love that Ahsoka can get Obi-Wan to laugh even when he’s super stressed out and afraid for the lives of everyone on Kothlis. She is such a sweetheart. Her innocence and enthusiasm to be a good Padawan is probably what keeps Anakin and Obi-Wan going when everything else is a disaster.
Summary: Dwalin accidently wakes you up in the middle of the night and you learn that Thorin is spending another night away from his bed. You decide to do something about it.
Pairing: Thorin x Reader
Word Count: 1,274
Requested by: @sdavid09 ; “An ear infection cause a particular dwarf to become very clumsy at hilarious moments. Originally I thought it could be a Thorin one, but then I realized a Dwalin one would make it hilarious!!!
Nori’s cold is hindering his sneakiness.
Thorin is overworking himself, and that won’t do for the dwarf you love. So you set up a “spa” day where you don’t let him work and pamper him all day!”
A/n: I kind of tried to tie in all three and I don't know if it came out good so let me know if you don’t like it so I can try to rewrite it. Also, I tried so hard not to base it off of Feisty Little Hobbit, but I couldn’t resist. It can be read without reading Feisty Little Hobbit, but this could also be an epilogue of sorts.
“It swallowed me, this lunatic. Please save me tonight. Within this childish madness, you will save me tonight.” - [“Save Me” - BTS]
Summary: It was an unprecedented love that bloomed within the halls of your high school, until secret words were overheard, and shattered the budding romance. It changed your life forever, leading you down a path you had never thought you would be on– training to become a secret agent. You chose it to escape Yoongi and the results of how things ended between you two, but as fate would have it, that very same choice ended up leading you right back to him. Will you be able to save your clients and solve mysteries together despite your history? Will you be able to save each other? Will you able to save yourself…from yourself?
Yoongi x Reader (ft. Jin & all the other BTS members)
Secret Agent AU
Mystery, Action, Angst, & Fluff (contains some violence, mentions of murder, death, harassment, and bullying)
A/N: So this wasn’t the entire thing I wanted to release, but I didn’t have time to write up everything, and I wanted to leave an update for you all before I left. I’m travelling to Greece for a week and a half on vacation, so I won’t be able to update/write x) and I didn’t want to leave you all hanging…too much. Soo here’s some important and much needed fluff <3 Prepare for more of the mystery and action when I return! Muahaha ~
Yoongi grinned widely as you hurried
towards him, dressed in an adorable dress, with your hair done more carefully
than you usually did for school. It was all for him, and his heart welled up
happily at the thought.
You stumbled into him giddily, and
he steadied you with his hands at your waist coolly. You blushed and smiled
shyly. And he couldn’t help it, with you looking so adorable, so he leaned down
and kissed you sweetly.
"Yoongi. People are…”
You glanced around worriedly.
His grin simply widened as he stole
another kiss from you.
"You should know by now, I
don’t really care about other people.“
You chuckled as you cupped his face
and kissed him. "Let’s pretend that you don’t then.”
He intertwined your fingers as you two
strolled down the streets.
"So are you really going to
make me try lamb skewers?“ You scrunched your face.
"Um yes. It’s the best. And you
need to try the best.” Yoongi rolled his eyes.
You glanced over at him and smiled.
“You look good with a beanie.”
"I look good with
everything.“ he smirked and you smacked his arm.
"Your ego is killing the mood,
He chuckled. “I like when we’re
ourselves like this.”
Your lips curled up. “Me
He studied you up and down.
“Did you fall?”
"Your knees are a little
You blushed. “Oh…yeah. I had
a clumsy moment.”
"No one’s been giving you a
hard time right? Now that everyone knows we’re dating?“ Yoongi questioned.
"No. Of course not.” You
giggled. “Who would dare touch Min Yoongi’s girlfriend?”
"Damn right.“ Yoongi
You scrunched your face as Yoongi
waved the lamb skewer in front of your face.
"Just do it! I promise. One
bite and you’ll be hooked.”
"But I heard people didn’t like
it!“ You complained.
"But you won’t know until you
try!” he urged.“Open.”
Cautiously, you opened your mouth
and took a small bite. Immediately, your eyes lit up and Yoongi cackled smugly.
"What’d I say?“
"Shut up.” You grabbed the
skewer from his hand with a huff.
"When we’re old enough to
drink, we’re coming back and eating these with soju.“
"And grilled meat!” You
Yoongi chuckled as he rested his
chin on his palm, staring at you eat endearingly. “And that is why you’re
the chosen one.”
"The chosen one?“ You
raised an eyebrow.
"The chosen one to be deemed my
girlfriend.” he grinned.
You rolled your eyes. “What did
I do to deserve this honor?”
"Hand.“ Yoongi called out.
"I’m not a dog.”
"Just do it.“
You opened your palm curiously. He chicly
placed a sterling silver chain with a slender ring looped inside, into your
hand. He blushed as he shyly watched your reaction. He had never been good at
giving presents, but when he had seen this, he knew he had to get it. He wanted
to get it for you.
"Is this…?” Your eyes
glanced up at him in awe.
Yoongi averted his eyes and pulled
his own identical ring from underneath his shirt.
"Oooo ~ Min Yoongi.“ You
teased. "I didn’t know you liked couple things ~”
He huffed, embarrassed.
You pulled your hair up, and smiled
at him expectantly. “Shouldn’t you put it on me like in the dramas?”
"You can just put it on
yourself though.“ he grumbled, but still grabbed the necklace, making his
way behind you.
After it was hooked and fastened,
you turned and pulled his face down to plant your lips against his gratefully.
He smiled into the kiss, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
But suddenly, you began fading from
his grip and he was left in darkness, calling out your name worriedly.
Here’s a fic for @miraculousblackout, addressing the concept of reposting to “share the artists’ work with others”.
The sound of coins hitting the ground distracted Marinette from her grocery list, doubled with the large coin that hit the side of her shoe. There was muffled grumbling behind her–clearly someone was having a clumsy moment, and was not happy about it. Marinette could totally relate.
She bent down, grabbing the coin and turning around.
“Here you go.”
“Oh, thank–” The woman straightened up and paused, the shock that crossed her face echoing Marinette’s once she got a good look at the woman before her.
Ugh. And she had been having such a good day…
“…Symone,” she said, working to at least be civil (though it was more than Symone deserved), holding out the dropped coin for Symone to take. Symone sniffed, snatching the coin back as she straightened her blazer, smoothing out the sleeves as if she wished to intimidate Marinette with her expensive wardrobe.
My fingers gripped the dual Illyrian blades as my father came up behind me. His magic swirling around us, we had been training when a female appeared before us. She looked ready to kill us and I had no idea who she was.
Do you know her?
No. Be ready.
I stood my ground watching the female wearily. She was beautiful with golden hair like Mor’s and a long silver gown.
“You will pay, Rhysand! You and your family will pay for what you did to my husband! My king!” Confusion shoots through as I glance at my father, whose jaw is clenched. He must know who she is now. Before I can ask, she throws a vial of something cloudy at me. All of a sudden I am falling and screaming.
“Dad! Daddy!” I hadn’t called my father ‘daddy’ since I was a young child but now, as I was thrown into a whirlwind of silver shadows, I didn’t care as I am sure certain death is coming my way right this second.
“Seren!” His roar filled my ears as I fell down. I tried opening my eyes to see what is happening, to see where my father is but the white mist, whatever it is that the woman threw at me made my eyes burn.
“Daddy!” I grip for anything, anything that could help me, but I knew, as soon as my father’s roars soften into nothing, I’m very well far off his reach. Then winds are whistling past me, I try to flair my wings but the wind forces them against my back and I felt my face turn into a grimace at the achiness of the force. My swords are ripped from my hands as a scream leaves my lips. Tall trees come up to me fast as my body crashes across the branches. I hit from branch to branch as my momentum slows but pain fills my body. I try to wrap my magic around me but it seems to be harder, more distant for me to reach. I tried to lure my magic out again, but my left wing gets caught on a branch and a shriek bubbles through me as I try to readjust so I am falling on my stomach. My hair snags on bark and comes loose from its bun, ripping a patch out of my scalp. My hair tumbles down around my face wildly and my fingers claw at anything to slow the fall but I only lose two fingernails at the action. Before I could see the blood that is surely gonna come rushing out, the soft grass rise up to meet me and with a loud thud, I finally stop my descent with a moan. I can’t move for a moment as the pain just screams through me. My fingers dig into the soft grass as I try to sit up. A wing comes around me and a stick poking through the membrane is the first thing I see.
“Shit,” I hiss. Tucking my uninjured wing against me, I grab onto the stick. With a count of three, I try to yank it out only to let it go with a harsh breath of pain. Horses hooves and shouts ranged in the distance, so I slowly crawl to hide in a bush beside me, grimacing at every move my sore muscles made. I peak out at the group coming towards me who seems to be led by a white-haired male with piercing blue eyes who is obviously fae. He looks young, maybe a few years my senior. Even from where I sit I can see he looks like an entitled brat with his cocky posture and the small smirk forming his glossed mouth. The ache in my wing causes me to try to sit up but it only hurts worse and I cry out silently. Trying to grab ahold of something to keep from falling, I was too late and I suddenly ended up flopping in front of the riders. For an Illyrian trained soldier, I am quite clumsy at the moment. The male climbs off his horse and comes running over to me. I tuck my wings behind me but find the left one is harder to move. The male kneels before me as I slowly drag my eyes up to his. He is in green and gold attire with an emblem of a stag on his muscled chest. Closer now more than ever, I met his eyes and I realize he has a gold circle forming around his pupils. I could smell his scent, the smell of the forest, so fresh and wild radiating off him and the pain lessens. Blinking my eyes, I see him staring at me and I look down, seeing black swirling shapes of what I assume to be tattoos creep up his neck. So much like the tattoos from my court except, there is a certain difference to it that I don’t exactly know.
“Are you ok?” His voice is rich and his accent thick like the earth beneath me. Then his eyes flick to my wing which I try to hide behind me only to whimper at the pain. The male tries to reach for me but I back away, ready to attack despite my injury. He holds his hands up to me.
“I won’t hurt you,” his voice is soft now. “You are hurt. Let me help you,” he says. I glance at my bleeding wing, already healing around the stick and having little choice, I nod. Slowly, he walks to my wing and kneels beside me. And I let out a gasp, but not in pain as he unexpectedly strokes the membrane. A blush crawls up my face.
“They are sensitive,” I stutter. The grin on his face makes me blush harder.
“Wait,” I paused “May I hold onto your shoulder?”
“Of course,” he says. I hold onto his shoulder and grit my teeth as he yanks it out. I press my mouth to his shoulder, biting it through the fabric to stop my scream. Sagging against him, he picks me up.
“I don’t need to be held,” I snap.
“Nonetheless I wish to help you,” he pauses staring into my eyes with a startled look. “Your eyes are violet.”
“They are beautiful,” he breathes.
“Thanks. Now can you put me down?” He chuckles and I hate the way it feels upon my skin because I love it and even more, I hate that I love it. I do not know this male standing before me and yet, somehow I feel…Shaking off my thoughts, he gently sets me down. I flick my wing out and smirk at how he stumbles back. My wing is healing but not as fast as usual. The magic is strange here, so…unusual.
Flicking up my eyes at the endless of trees around me, I ask, “Where are we?”
“The forests of Terrasen.”
“Terrasen? Home of the most beautiful fae.” I ignore the last half of his statement and made myself masks a bored expression even if I am feeling the little panic rising up at me “What are you?”
“Me? I am fae. Obviously,” I pointed out my ears and roll my eyes. What an idiot.
“I don’t know any fae with bat wings. Or without fangs.”
“I am half Illyrian and half high fae.” I say, flicking off invisible dust off my clothing.
“What’s high fae?”
I stop and looked at him. “Ruling class of Prythian?”
“My father and mother are high lord and lady of the night court.”
“I am so confused right now.”
“You are not the only one,” I say, biting my lip and looking down at my feet. Both of us are silent for a moment before a flash of thunder strikes loudly and heavy rain started falling down. The cold pinpricks against my skin makes me shiver and goose bumps raised against my skin. The only clothes I wore were a black short tank top, tight pants, and boots. I was fit for training on a warm day at the night court, not a muggy, rainy day in this Terrasen forest. Running my hand over the goose bumps raised on my flesh, I glance at the male beside me and let out a sigh.
“My name is Seren Archeron, and you are?” My eyes take him in as he towers above me. Muscular tan skin pulls the green tunic taught against his body. Gold trim lines the fabric and a symbol of the stag is on his chest. Light armor adorns his shoulders and chest and grey breeches cling to his bulging thighs. His face is all hard panes with a sensuous mouth that seems to be always quirked up in a smile. The tattoos that crawl up his neck and weave down into his shirt where I can only assume the wrap around his body. These tattoos are not like the swirling elegance of my Illyrian tattoos. They have angles and curves, no real pattern but mesmerizing nonetheless. His white hair is a stark contrast to his tan skin. The white tendrils are pasted against his forehead; his hair comes to brush his shoulders. By the cauldron, he is gorgeous. With a flourishing bow, he takes my hand and kisses it.
“I am Prince Calev Ashryver Galathynius Whitethorn.” His accent makes me want to melt but I pull my hand from him and raise an eyebrow.
“So which is your first name?” He lets out a low chuckle at me.
“You may call my Calev, little bat.” I bare my teeth at him but the gesture is lost as a shiver rocks through my body causing the pain to spike. Calev walks back to his horse and grabs something then comes back and hands me a blanket. Taking it, I focus on my magic. It takes all my concentration before my wings disappear and I can wrap the blanket it around me. Unfortunately as I try to take a step forward, I almost fall due to the magic sapping all my strength. Calev holds tight to me, he gently picks me up and this time I let him.
“We are going to take miss Serene back to the palace,” Calev’s voice rumbles against me chest.
“But Cal, the mission?”
“Damn the mission! This girl needs our help first.” His snarl makes my breath catch. The way he was protecting me reminded me a lot of my parent’s mating bond. I shake the idea; it was just typical male protectiveness that all fae seems to have. Nothing more.
“Yes, my prince,” the male spits and I hear horse hooves walking away. A shiver runs through me and I gasp in pain.
“Shhh…it’s ok, I am taking you to my home. We will get you better,” he murmurs. Calev puts me on his horse, then mounts up behind me. His arms wrap around me as he grips the reins. I lean back into him as I have no strength in my body. As the horse slowly takes on a stroll, I notice that Calev uses his body to shield mine against the rain. He lets out a kissing noise from behind me and we take off at a canter. The horse’s gate was smooth enough that it didn’t jar me as we rode on. I did curl into Calev’s warmth as much as I did not want too but I felt my consciousness slipping. The ride was long and I was barely coherent for most of it. The rain let up after what felt like hours and I was thoroughly soaked yet Calev was not shivering. Sometime later, the horse stops.
“We are here, little bat.” I open my eyes and sit up as best I could. Calev helped me as I looked at the sprawling city before me. It was alive with color and music, not unlike Velaris. Though this was not by the sea, it had an air of the forest throughout the city. With moss and trees twining through the city. The smell of pine was intoxicating much like the male behind me. Despite the rainstorm, people were milling about on the slick cobblestones. Children played in a massive fountain, their giggling infectious. The city was miles long. Beyond that lay a granite castle. I had never seen anything so big or extravagant. Gold and bronze decorated the façade as stags leaped in granite along the the massive building. It was like something out of a fairytale, my mouth had dropped open and I was very glad Calev could not see my face. Sitting here with this strange faerie pressed against my back and this strange new world ahead of me, I felt something like excitement and anxiety.
“Now, shall we get you healed and meet my parents?” With this, we started down the road towards the beautiful city.
I frowned. “Why would I have to meet your parents?”
“Have you forgotten?” he asks as the horse gallops through the land. “They’re the Queen and King of Terrasen.”
Written by me and edited and helped by @crazy-fangirl16
Hope you like this! I’m going to do a series of posting these. So this is just the first one.
It just an ordinary day in the lab. Molly was finishing up some paperwork as Sherlock conducted his own experiments, his face glued to his microscope.
It was quiet. Comfortable. Their perfect rapport.
Until Molly shuffled her finished papers together and made to get up from her stool. Ten years and it was just habit to slip off and walk over to the filing system.
Only today went a bit differently. And a simple moment of clumsiness sent their world in a new direction.
As Molly swiveled and leaned forward, her ankle hooked over the metal bar pf the stool and as her center of gravity shifted forward, her foot remained behind.
Sherlock looked up from his work at the sharp cry only to find his pathologist had disappeared.
'Owww,’ a whimpering moan had him on his feet and rounding the lab table in a heartbeat. Molly lay crumpled on the floor surrounded by scattered papers, nursing her ankle.
Sherlock immediately deduced it was not a break, but a bad sprain. In a single smooth motion, he gathered her into his arms and strode out the door.
'Sherlock, put me down. I’ll be fine, I just need to walk it off,’ Molly protested faintly. But her eyes burned with held back tears and one knowing look from Sherlock silenced her.
'A sprain without proper care can have severe ramifications in the future,’ he stated. His face softened from worry to care as he stepped into the lift and looked down at her. 'And I do not like to see you in pain.’
Her heart melted just a bit and she rewarded his thoughtfulness with a sweet kiss. They broke apart just as the lift shuddered to a stop and the doors opened.
Sherlock strode into the foyer and demanded to see the only competent orthopedic doctor on the floor while Molly’s heart filled to burst.
Sherlock paced outside of the room. It was just a simple sprain, painful, yes, but no reason to bar him from the room.
“'Family only, sir.’” He mocked the doctor under his breath. He was as good as, just because he hadn’t gotten around to putting that damn ring on her finger didn’t make their relationship any less legitimate. Besides, he would have done so last Thursday if John hadn’t come down with the flu and relinquished Rosie to them for the weekend.
Sherlock supposed it was only fair; after all, he had ruined John’s first proposal attempt, too.
Sherlock immediately spun around as the doctor came out. A smug smile was on the idiot’s face and Sherlock’s hackles rose.
'Please come in.’ Sherlock didn’t even wait for the man to finish speaking before he burst into the room and came to a screeching halt.
Her hands covered her face and her shoulders were shaking.
Molly was crying.
Why was Molly crying?
What had that quack done to her?
For a moment, Sherlock oscillated between comforting her and leveling the so-called doctor. It was an easy choice.
'Molly, whatever this charlatan has done, we can have Mycroft make him disappear.’ He promised fiercely, pulling her hands from her face and shooting a deadly glare at the amused doctor behind him.
But then he took her in. Her tears, her smile, her quiet laughter.
Sherlock frowned in bemusement. 'Molly?’
'You’re an idiot, Sherlock Holmes,’ she teased. 'And for that matter, so am I.’
'What? What is going on?’ Furious at not being able to deduce what caused this brief bout of insanity in his Molly, he looked up for answers to the doctor who came to stand beside them.
'The sprain is mild, but painful. Our regular procedure is to prescribe a mild pain reliever.’
Sherlock was still utterly at sea. 'Obviously. But why-’
'Unless the patient is pregnant.’
Every running gear in his mind came to a screeching, grinding halt.
He blinked several times and lost complete control of his facial muscles as that could be the only explanation for the way his mouth gaped open.
'Sherlock,’ Molly whispered softly. Her smile hadn’t diminished, but her eyes were wary. 'We’re having a baby.’
To hear it from her lips made it real, the undeniable joy rushed over him and he kissed her with all the love he had.
Neither noticed the doctor slip out of the room to give them privacy.
'You’re seven weeks along, missed several signs due to having the flu two weeks ago…’ The deductions flooded in and his mouth wouldn’t stop until Molly yanked him close and silenced him with another kiss.
Sherlock smiled against her lips.
Tonight. He would ask her tonight.
It would be the perfect ending to the perfect day.
Monsta X Reaction to being on the same show as their idol crush.
Thank you for the request!! I hope you like it :D
Honestly, he’d be so
great. He’d offer to get you a coat if you were cold, a drink if you were
thirsty. Shownu would be kind of shy, so he’d try to just be around you. He
wouldn’t try and make any physical contact since he wouldn’t want you to feel
uncomfortable. He’d be polite when he replies to you, and would maybe try and
make a joke or two. They wouldn’t be funny, but the awkward way he said them
would be hilarious to you. He’d gain confidence by the end of the broadcast of
chatting with you, so he’d probably say he was looking forward to seeing you
Wonho would be very
polite when you first met him. He’d wait till he was on the broadcast to give
you some compliments, working on lowkey flattering you. He would grin and laugh
every time you made a joke and he’d try to bounce off your humour really well
so you felt like you had a natural banter with him. He might tease you a bit,
but he’d be playful about it, and with his cheery smile you’d definitely like
him and want to get to know him more- his plan would definitely work!
Minhyuk would gush
over you. He’d approach you directly and introduce himself and chat away
without a care in the world. He’d compliment everything about you, discuss your
music, and make jokes about being your fan. Of course, he’d ask if you were his
fan, and he’d offer to show you any dance moves you wanted to learn. During the
broadcast, Minhyuk would try and sit next to you or interact with you. If you
had to do a pair task, he’d jump on you and hold your hand. He’d be so smiley
and happy and chatty you’d feel like he was your best friend from the moment
Kihyun would be super
shy, I think maybe the most shy? He would be worrying about meeting you for
ages. He’d take extra care with his clothes, hair and makeup, wanting to look
flawless for you. But when he met you he’d probably trip over, or drop
something, and he’d be scared you thought he was an idiot. But you’d just laugh
and help him up, and suddenly him having a clumsy moment wouldn’t be so bad. He’d
thank you, and ask if you wanted to get a drink together to make up for it. He’d
be very lowkey about having a crush on you.
Hyungwon would be that
ultimate chill guy. He’d talk to you quietly, trying to get you away from the
others between takes for a bit. He’d probably just appear next to you with some
water or a snack, saying he wanted to make sure you were healthy during the
shooting. He’d ask you questions about your life and he’d talk about how he was
your fan. During the show if he was asked to dance to your music he would leap
at the chance. Not only would he dance well, but he’d shoot you a sneaky wink,
Jooheon would be
bragging to all the boys about the fact that he was going to meet you. He’d say
he was going to talk to you, flirt, ask you out, all this stuff. When in actual
fact when you were introduced on the show he would smile and be very polite to
you. Every time you spoke his dimply smile would flash and he would listen
intently, so intently the host would make a joke about him having a crush on
you. After, he’d tell you he’d loved being on the show with you, and he hoped
he’d see you again. When you gave him his number he’d smile and then run back
to the boys to scream with them.
I.M would probably
introduce himself, if he hadn’t already. I really don’t think he’d have an
issue just coming up to you and talking to you, smiling all the while. He’d ask
you questions about the broadcasts, and he’d maybe want to set up some jokes so
it looked like the two of you got along. During the broadcast he’d chat happily
with you and would probably make a few flirty comments in general aimed in your
direction. At the end of the broadcast
he’d definitely ask for your number!
you for reading! We really hope you like it. We’re open for requests, so go
ahead and message us!
Admin ☼ Iris
Summary: A bottle whiskey and a moment of clumsiness leads to the reader blurting out her feelings. When the next morning come where will her and Sam’s relationship stand?
Warnings: The excessive consumption of alcohol, language, a little angst, fluff.
Word Count: 2,173
A/N: So I’ll be honest this sounds a lot like me when I’m drunk. Immature, always poking people etc. So there you go a little insight into me. Anyways I hope you guys like it and feedback is always welcomed and appreciated.
“Poke. Poke. Poke.”
“Okay maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” Dean grabbed your finger as you reached to poke him again.
“This is the best idea you’ve had in a long time.” You slurred, falling back onto one of the motel beds.
“I doubt that.” He looked at you in amusement.
“Hey don’t be a party pooper.” You giggled. “Party pooper. Pooper of parties.”
“Are you really sitting over there talking about poop?” Dean’s lips twitched.
“Nooooooo. Yes. Maybe.” You rolled over again only to find the bed had run out and you instead went crashing to the floor. “This floor is hard.” Your voice was muffled. Dean’s roar of laughter reached your ears alerting you to the fact he would be of no help. Sam chuckled as he leafed through one of his books drawing your attention to him.
My soulmate @satire-please deserves all the love, so a bit more
little Timmy with the Bats from here.
The house is always quiet. Even when his
mom and dad were home or Mrs. Mac was in the kitchen when he got home from
school, the upstairs is always silent, like the museums where his parents
donate what they find on digs. He thinks it’s always been like that.
A/N: loosely inspired by one of my fav otp’s Jim & Pam.
Arizona’s shoes were nearly floating over the ground beneath her
as she ran to her designated OR. “I’m really sorry I wasn’t able to fly out
this weekend, sweetie.” her voice was rushed and she struggled to catch the
phone that slipped from her hands after running into the the swinging door to
the washroom. After her moment of clumsiness, she handed her phone off with a
smile to the nearest nurse and proceeded to wash her hands.
“It’s okay, mommy.” Sofia said.
Scrubbing at her arms fiercely, Arizona turned her head in the
direction of the nurse holding the only connection to her whole world when what
sounded like candy wrappers rubbing together boomed from the speakers.
“Sorry, Sofia dropped the phone. She’s quite excited.”
Arizona couldn’t help the smile that came upon her face at
hearing Callie’s voice, blue eyes returning to her task at hand. “Did you make
sure she remembered the move I taught her? The cute spin-“
Callie sighed. “The cute spin with the wink, yes. We went over
it a hundred times.”
Turning the water off and drying her hands, the blonde grimaced
at Callie’s irritated tone. “I just…I want everything to be perfect.”
At the sound of children laughing and squealing, Arizona’s heart
began to race. She felt guilty for missing this moment, for physically missing
the moment of her daughter showcasing her talents in an incredibly cute second
grade talent show. She had skipped Sofia the previous day, watching her super
adorable, tiny human prance around in her costume and couldn’t help but praise
her. She was perfect; the most precious human. She had seen thousands of kids
in her life, though, she knew that Sofia—even if she was quite biased—was the
most beautiful, talented, brilliant child she knows.
“I know you and technology aren’t best friends but, please tell
me you figured out how to work your phone’s camera?”
“Arizona,” Callie tsked. “I’m an orthopedic surgeon, the best in
my field. I have built legs like god, created cartilage out of thin air-“
The blonde laughed, slipping into the OR with a smile on her
face. “Yet, before you left, it took me about an hour to get you to figure out
how FaceTime works.” she went on to mumble. “Which I had no idea was possible.”
“Did you say something?” their bantering caused a few of the
scrub nurses to laugh lowly, not wanting to be caught listening to Arizona’s
Pink lips twisted into a grin. “Nope.” knowing that she had to
hang up to talk to her patient, Arizona sighed. “I have to go, Callie, but tell
Sofia I love her. And thank you.” she added, knowing that a small task such as
recording the event meant everything to Arizona.
The heels of her boots slapped against the wet concrete. Arizona
searched for her phone in her purse, the pre dawn air taking her hair by the
ends and guiding it through the wind. After finding the device, she unlocked it
and dialed a familiar number.
“Hello?” the voice was coated with sleep, Arizona just realizing
that it was Saturday morning. She knew that Callie was most likely hudled under
several layers of blankets, hair probably in a massive disarm while tan hands
ran through the thick locks to clear her vision.
“Crap, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was…”
“No, no, I was already up.” the lie was smooth on her tongue.
Arizona hopped into her car and let her body fall back into the
plush, leather seat. Her feat were aching and a dull throb was beginning to
spread across her head. “How did the recital go? Did you get the video?”
She turned the key into the ignition, the lights above her head
turning on briefly to highlight the exhaustion under tired blue eyes. She
needed some good news, the little boy she had just spent hours operating on
dying on her table. She was used to this, used to the pain that accompanied
such a loss, but it still hurt and made her stomach churn.
She could hear Callie shuffling in the background followed by a
door shutting, her voice dropping to a whisper. “About that…I sort of didn’t
get the video.”
“Are you serious?” she tried to keep calm, her teeth grinding
together harshly and the ache in her head increasing. “Callie, I thought you
“It was an accident! I got a phone call right before they
started and I guess I thought the video would still record after the phone
Arizona’s grip on her phone tightened, stands of blonde hair
covering her vision until it was all she could see. “You said you would do this
“Arizona, I’m sorry, I tried.”
“Maybe you didn’t try enough. Maybe all of this was a mistake.”
A dry laugh. “Oh, yeah? What does that mean?”
“You know what, I don’t want to talk about this.” Just as she
was about to pull out of the parking lot, Callie continued.
“No, tell me. Just say it.”
Arizona slammed on the brake, a dry, soundless sob hitting her
full force. “I’m missing everything. It feels like I’m missing every moment
with her! And for what? So you can be happy with her in
New York? I’m missing her life, Callie!”
Silence for the slightest moment. “You said you were okay with
this! That you wanted both of us to be happy…” she was at a loss, the sudden
anger Arizona directed at her unexpected. She thought that they were past this,
that they understood what the other wanted and needed at this time of their
“Well, I’m not. I…I just wanted that goddamn video, and you took
that away from me! You took her away from me,
Callie!” her words were a blubbered mess, tears rolling down her face, sinking
into her cheeks, her neck, falling onto her tongue until her rant died at her
“You’re picking a fight. You’re stressed and you’re upset, and
you’re picking a fight.” Callie hated hearing Arizona sound so vulnerable,
sound so hopeless. “You miss her, I get that, but-“
“No, you don’t. You see her every day. You’re with her every
day. You get to see her smile and hear her voice and listen to her when she
talks about her day. I get moments. I get snippets. I’m missing everything.”
Callie sank to the floor, not knowing what to say. She looked
around her surroundings unsure of what to say. “Why don’t we talk after you’ve
gotten some rest? Okay? We can talk about her schedule again. We can work this
out, just, please.
I don’t want to argue anymore, Arizona. I’m sorry about the video. You
have to know that I didn’t intentionally do this.”
Arizona needed a moment. She needed something, but she wasn’t
sure what. “I’ll talk to you later, Callie.” Arizona hung up without a goodbye
and fell back against the passenger seat feeling defeated.
“You did such a great job last night, Sofia.” Callie praised
hugging her daughter. Her and Sofia were eating dinner the same day, chicken
picatta being eaten quickly.
“I know.” the little girl beamed.
Callie swallowed a particularly hot piece of her meal and
winced. “Just like your mother.”
With a wave of her hand, Callie dismissed the conversation and
mother and daughter continued to eat. “What do you say you give one more
Sofia dried a dish carefully and slowly before looking up at her
mother. “Are we going back to school?”
“No, we’re staying home.” They cleaned and dried the last dish.
“You know your mom really wanted to be there for you last night, right?”
Sofia nodded. “Yeah. She had to save a baby, a baby that needed
her cause she’s the only one who can fix them.”
“That’s right.” she chewed on her next words. “She really wanted
to be here, and she’s really sad that she missed it. What do you say we
surprise mommy? You think you can remember your dance?” she tickled her
daughter, the giggles that filled the room music to Callie’s ears.
“I remember all the steps.” She said proudly.
Callie sent Sofia to her room to put on her
costume, her stomach filling with butterflies. She hoped that this gesture,
this attempt at including Arizona would make up for yesterday. Barely 20
minutes later, the living room was set to look like a diy stage; blankets were
strewn on top of chairs and carefully balanced broomsticks, Sofia doing twirls
and mumbling counts to make sure each move was perfect.
“Are you ready?” Callie asked pulling out her
phone. Without a second thought, Callie whipped her cell phone out and called
Arizona. After a mere two rings, Arizona’s face came into a view, a tired look
on her face.
“Callie? Is everything okay?”
As quick as she could, Callie switched the
camera to direct it towards Sofia, her cheeks burning from the smile that was permanently
on her face. “Introducing, the spectacular, amazing, super awesome 2nd graderrrrr!” her voice boomed, Sofia
jumping into the phone’s view with her hands on her hips. “Sofiaaa Robbinnn
Sloan Torressss!” smashing the play button on the cd player next to her, Sofia’s
dance music played.
What was once confusion on Arizona’s face was
now pure joy; blue eyes bright and shining as she watched her daughter
effortlessly spin and jump. There were no mistakes, dimples popping out proudly
as Arizona watched her daughter give her her own front row seat to the best
show on earth. Once the younger Torres completed her dance, the cutest of bows
was made and Sofia ran up to the camera.
“How did I do? Did mommy like it?”
Fighting her tears, Arizona cleared her
throat. “It was perfect, baby girl. You are such a good dancer! I’m so proud of
you!” Callie turned the camera so that Sofia could see her mom, but she forgot
to switch the camera.
“Callie, flip the camera.” Arizona laughed.
She physically flipped the phone back around.
“No, Callie, flip the phone camera so that Sofia
can see me.”
“I just flipped it.”
Arizona rolled her eyes. “Not the phone, the
camera button on the screen.”
Being ever so clever, the 8 year old took the
phone from her Callie’s hands and talked to Arizona herself. “Hi, mommy!”
Callie went to clean up some of the room while
mother and daughter chatted excitedly. The guilt she was feeling for a better part
of the day had crumbled and broke away, Sofia jumping around the room and
dancing once more for her mother.
The night went on and Callie knew that Sofia
needed to start getting ready for bed. “Sofia, say bye to mommy, it’s time for
Sofia instantly whined. “But mama-“
“Sofia Sloan,” Callie started with a stern
“Fine. Bye mommy. I love you.” She waved at
the distant blonde and handed the phone back to her mother.
“Brush your teeth, wash your face and I’ll be
in soon to tuck you in.”
Sofia bounced out of the room to accomplish
her nightly routine, Callie waiting until she was out of sight to look back at
Arizona smiled. “Thank you, Callie, and…I’m
sorry. I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”
“I understand. We all have our days.” Settling
onto the couch in the living room, Callie continued. “If you still want to talk
about who has her when, I’m open to it.”
“No, we had a deal. We already talked about
it. I just miss her.”
Arizona chewed on her lip, I miss you, too, close to slipping out
as well. A silence fell between them, neither of them knowing what to say. “I’ll
let you get back to Sofia.”
Callie wanted to say something, but her voice
was suddenly nonexistent, lodged into a secret crevice she couldn’t grasp. She
settled with a shake of her head and hung up the phone. The mess around her was
worse than she thought, but she was too lazy to clean up. Deciding to leave
this problem for tomorrow, Callie got up to tuck her daughter into bed.
I think about them sometimes. They were wonderful, loving people, my parents. I often wish I had gotten more time with them. I wonder sometimes how different my life would have been. Not that I’m not grateful for everything the Blake’s have done for me since they passed, taking me in and making me part of their family. It was more than I could have asked for. My parents and Aurora had been long time friends, I knew them since the day I was born. As a kid I spent many play dates with Octavia and Bellamy. I was so young when my parents died, I’ve spent more of my life living in the Blake household than I had in my own. But, sometimes, I can’t help but feel like I don’t belong.
There’s a knock on my door, pulling me out of my thoughts, and I realize I’ve been crying.
“Come in!” I feign enthusiasm, still feeling that pang of pain in my chest from thinking about the death of my parents.
Bellamy pops his head in, “Hey, Y/N, dinner’s ready.”
“I’ll be right down.” My voice sounds strained and false. I hope he doesn’t notice. He just nods, pulls his head back, and he’s gone.
As soon as the door is closed, I find myself smiling. Bellamy always has a way of making me feel better, even if he doesn’t know it. We’d always been close. There was something special with us. For a second I feel another pang in my chest, but this one a little different. It feels more warm. I recognize the feeling, but I ignore it. He’s practically my brother, after all.
As I walk towards my mirror, I wipe my face with my hands, removing any evidence of tears. I take a deep breath and look at myself. My eyes are still a little red and puffy, but hopefully no-one will notice. I run my fingers through my hair to make it look a little more presentable, silently cursing myself for looking like a sad disheveled mess when Bellamy had stopped in, then head downstairs.
The delicious smell of tonight’s meal fills my nose. I hear the sounds of dishes clinking, and a pot bubbling, and people shuffling around in the kitchen. When I walk in I see Aurora stirring something on the stove, Octavia pulling plates from the cupboard, Bellamy putting placemats on the table. We catch each other’s glance and he smiles a half smile at me, which I return in kind. He knows I had been crying, and he knows why. I can see it in his eyes.
The evening passes much like any other. We all make small talk around the table, laughing and smiling comfortably. Aurora is more bristly than usual, so we all tread lightly with what we say. Never the less, it’s a fairly happy family dinner. When I pass the salt to Bellamy our hands touch for a second and I feel a little electric pulse, and our eyes catch again. The moment is quick. Maybe there was no moment at all. I remind myself, “He’s like a brother.”
When the meal is over, we all help clear the table and pile the dishes in the sink. The others head out of the kitchen to their respective rooms and I’m left alone. It’s my turn to do the dishes, so I fill the sink with soap and water.
I fall into a familiar pattern. Scrub, rinse, dry, scrub, rinse, dry. My mind begins to wander. Childhood memories pop up in my brain, Octavia and I playing dolls, Bellamy chasing us when we all played tag, the three of us scribbling in colouring books while laying on our stomachs on the floor. Then flashes of later memories, as we all grew up. I see Bellamy’s face, his smile, his freckles, his curly hair… No, no, stop that now. I can’t think about him that way. I have to stop thinking about him that way. I need to think about something else. My mind switches gears then, back to my parents, back to the night I found out they died, back to the moment my entire world shattered around me, back to the most broken feeling I’ve ever experienced…
I jump as pieces of ceramic scatter on the floor. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. I’ve broken one of Aurora’s plates. The china passed down from her grandparents. The dishes that had survived three generations of Blake’s couldn’t survive one clumsy moment in my idiot hands.
“What was that?” Aurora asks as she enters the kitchen. I see her face drop as she sees the mess on the floor, her mouth hanging open. Her eyes start to water, then flash with anger.
I bend down to pick up the pieces, “I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry!” I can feel the tears stinging in my eyes and I try my best to hold them back.
Aurora approaches me and I can feel the heat of rage radiating from her. I’d seen her angry before, but not like this. She’d been in a bad mood all day, and I was about to be on the receiving end of all her frustrations.
“What did you do?” Her voice is like razors slicing into me.
“It was an accident, I’m so sorry.” I stand up, my hands filled with sharp broken pieces of the delicate dish ware, I feel a few cuts into my skin.
“You do realize those dishes were handed down to me by my parents, handed down to them from my grandparents. Don’t you?”
“No, you didn’t. Just go, get out.” She grabs a broom and starts sweeping up the remainder of the broken pieces on the floor.
“Aurora, I’m so sorry. You know I didn’t mean to!”
“You know what, Y/N? I don’t want to hear excuses. Sometimes you’re such a burden.” she snaps.
Ouch. We’ve had our fights before. She endured my defiant, snotty teenage years. But this… this was something else. This ran deeper than just a broken plate.
“I don’t mean to be a burden on you…” I feel a tear escape.
“Didn’t I say I didn’t want excuses? You’ve always got something to say, always have to get in a word,” She’s on a roll now. This must have been pent up for a long time. “Just like your parents.”
“Don’t talk about my parents.” I say through gritted teeth.
“I knew them better than you did. You know your mom broke one of these plates once, too. You clumsy idiots, all of you. Like mother like daughter.”
“Hey, that’s enough.” I say, my blood beginning to boil, my voice rising.
“Don’t tell me what’s enough. Don’t speak to me like that in my own house.” Her voice has risen now too, and I’m sure Octavia and Bellamy can hear every word.
“It’s my house, too.” I counter.
“No, it’s not. You’re not a part of this family. We took you in. You ungrateful little goblin. I took you in! I didn’t have to do that and I did.”
“Nobody asked you to!” I spit.
“Your parents did! In their damn will. And stupid, stupid me, I agreed to it! We had enough struggles on our own and I still took in their bratty little kid.”
“Stop talking about my parents! They were your friends! They trusted you, which was clearly the wrong choice.”
“They made a lot of wrong choices. Irresponsible, unreliable, —“
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you!” I sputter.
“All you’ve done is be a drain on this family. You’ve caused way more trouble than you’re worth. You’re a leech. You always have been. But you know what? I’ve had enough. That’s it. You are not welcome here. Not anymore. Get out.” Her voice is steel, cold and hard.
I stand there, frozen. All my worst fears were true. I didn’t belong.
I turned on my heel and marched straight to my bedroom. Slamming the door shut, I stomped to my bed. I felt like a petulant child, but I was so hurt and angry I didn’t care. If she wanted me gone, fine. I’ll pack my things and get the hell out. It’s about time anyway.
I grabbed a bag and haphazardly started throwing clothes into it. I was blind with anger and tears. I grabbed another bag and started stuffing that one, too. After some time, I sat down on the edge of my bed. Exhausted and still crying, I heard a knock on my door. I didn’t respond. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.
Another knock. I still did not respond. I sat in rage charged silence.
The door slowly cracked open. “Hey, is it… is it okay if I come in?” Bellamy’s voice asked.
I huffed, “Yeah, sure, fine.”
He stepped inside, eyeing up the mess I’d made while tossing my belongings into bags. He approached the bed cautiously, and sat down beside me. His presence was already soothing, but my breathing was still heavy and uneven, and my throat still tight with fury.
“You heard all that, huh.” I stared straight ahead.
“Oh, I heard. I think the whole neighbourhood heard.” His sarcasm was not welcome right now.
I sighed. “Yeah… not my proudest moments.”
“Going somewhere?” He gestures towards the bags on the floor.
“She wants me to go, so I’ll go.” I say flatly.
“Don’t go. You know she didn’t mean it.” He reassures me. I turn to look at him then. His eyes are soft, concerned.
“Maybe. But she is right about one thing. I don’t belong here. And I never really have.” My voice quivers a little. This is what I’d worried about my whole life here.
“Don’t say that. Of course you belong.”
“No, Bellamy, I don’t. You guys have been so good to me, but I’ve never been part of the family. I’m just the kid who lives in the spare bedroom. I don’t belong.”
“Well, you belong with me.”
The air catches in my lungs. The room feels frozen in time. I stare at him, puzzled, shocked, my heart racing. Did he? Did I hear? What?
“I mean, you don’t belong with me, you belong to me. No not to me. I just mean that y’know that you’re cool, you’re good, you’re fine. I mean not fine as in fine, but fine as in okay.” He sputters, nervously, and laughs.
I realize I’ve been holding my breath. I laugh, too.
“Yeah, right of course. No, I knew what you meant.” I laugh awkwardly again.
We go quiet. There’s a tension between us. I’m suddenly aware of how close we’re sitting. I shuffle over a little and clear my throat, trying not to look directly at him because I can feel the warmth building in my cheeks and I’m sure they’re turning red. “Well, I uh, I better finish packing. I’ll stay at a friend’s place tonight, and come back and get more of my stuff tomorrow.”
“You’re really going to leave?” Bellamy’s voice is tinged with fear and disappointment.
“I mean, I’m not a kid anymore. I should get out on my own eventually, right?”
“Yeah. Right. So it’s about time I go.”
“I don’t want you to go.” He says in a tone I don’t know how to read.
Silence falls again.
“Do you want help packing?” He asks after a few moments pass.
“Yeah, you know what, that would be great.”
The tension soon breaks as we start to move around my room, assessing where to begin. I turn on some music and the mood lightens even more. Soon, we’re laughing and joking, picking up random objects and arguing over whether or not they’re worth keeping. I insist on keeping a hideous mug he had made me for my birthday one year when we had all been enrolled in a ceramics class. He convinces me to toss a very outdated sweater.
As the night wears on, we eventually stop packing things and end up sitting on the floor across from each other, listening to the music and just talking. It’s so easy to talk with him, so cozy to sit and let our thoughts mingle. We share our hopes, dreams, stories, jokes. It’s all just so… right.
“Hey, what did you mean earlier when you said you didn’t want me to go?” I ask him
He shrugs, “Y’know, I’m just used to having you around that’s all.”
I’m not convinced. I raise an eyebrow.
“Then again, it might be nice to have a break. You’re a pain in the ass sometimes.” He laughs
“Ha ha.” I roll my eyes.
But then he continues, “But also, I mean, I guess…” He trails off.
“What?” I laugh
“Nah, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh, come on, you can’t do that” I tease, “You can’t just start a sentence and then pretend you didn’t say anything and leave me wondering what the hell is going on in that head of yours.”
I move closer to him, continuing to tease, “C’mon, tell me tell me tell me. Don’t be a jerk butt. Tell me.”
He laughs and rolls his eyes, smirking.
“No, you’re an idiot. Stop. Forget it.”
“Nope, not gonna.” I’m sitting right in front of him now, looking at him determinedly, “I’m going to sit right here until you tell me.”
He lets out a sigh, “I’d just… miss you, I guess.”
There’s one of those moments again. A moment that feels enticing. Like something is pulling us together.
“I’ll miss you, too, Bell.” I move to sit next to him, and the familiar safe feeling washes over the room again.
I lean my head on his shoulder and we sit like that for a while, the music playing softly, everything still and calm.
Then, his hand slowly moves closer to mine. It brushes against the side of my hand. I don’t move. We’re both looking down at our hands, transfixed. His pinky starts to reach towards mine. Slowly, our ring and pinky fingers are touching, softly, wrapping around each other. This gesture of intimacy fills the air and we both look up into each others eyes. Electric pulse.
Our eyes scan over each others faces, linger on each others lips, lock into each others gaze, and we’re leaning in. Gently, our lips touch. We move closer, lips parting and moving in synch. It’s slow and soft, meaningful. When we finally pull away, our eyes meet again.
“I can’t believe we did that.” I breathe.
“Did you… did you not want to?” He worries.
“No, no. I did. I just…” I can’t form a sentence.
“I wanted to.” He says.
“You did?” I try to hold back the hope and excitement in my voice.
“I really did. I… I have for a long time.” He seems relieved to say that.
“Me too.” I breathe.
“I like you, Y/N.” He looks me in the eyes, “I like you a lot.”
“I really like you too.”
Like magnets, our lips are drawn back to each other. This time the kiss is deeper, filled with pent up longing. I feel myself getting lost in it. There was always something special between us, and now, finally, we knew what it was.
This was a request by @ariatate. Sorry it took me so long. I hope you like it!