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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years

Note

Pike!JJ and y/n where he forgets an important event between them and instead goes to a frat party/event and when she confronts him about it she breaks down crying and JJ realises what he did and feels really shitty about it

okay i did this for sigma chi jj here if you want a longer, more detailed thing on them being in an actual relationship when it happens. since i wanted to mix things up a bit and not write the same thing twice, we’re going to do pre-relationship pike jj and reader :)

for reference, i did establish in the kegger fic that the two of you are in the same major and take a lot of the same classes

warnings: cursing, not proofread, also sad (if you want a second part, let me know)

you weren’t sure if you were being too sensitive or not. the library was packed because it was midterm season, and you’d been there all day long, for one: to get a table, and two: to get some studying done for your other classes before jj got there to go through finance problems together.

he’d texted you, if you grab our normal table, i’ll bring coffee and snacks. meet at 4?

and, well, you were a sucker for doing what you could to hang out with him, so you agreed. jj and you always made a point to study together during midterms and finals week, the two of you had specific table and specific snacks, and it really got you through those weeks.

this time though, you were worried, it was 4:45 and he hadn’t gotten there yet. you’d been sitting at the table for 6 hours by that point and your stomach was growling and your eyelids were drooping. maybe something had happened and he’d gotten hurt. you kept trying to text him but he wasn’t reading them and he didn’t answer your call either.

pushing aside the other study guides you’d printed, you decided to just go ahead and work through all the finance problems she’d assigned for review. they were due the next day and you’d rather just knock them out while you had a spot in the library than wait till then.

it took you longer than you wanted to get through the finance problems alone. going through your scrambled notes with highlighted formulas and calculator instructions. by the time it hit 6:30 your brain was dead and you were ready to drop with the additional caffeine and snacks that jj promised to bring.

before walking to your car, you decided to grab something from subway. while eating, you tried calling jj again, only to be sent to voicemail. neither you nor jj were from the town your college was in, and you were each other’s emergency contacts, so you figured he probably wasn’t seriously hurt if you hadn’t gotten a call.

already feeling better after eating, you decided to swing by the house to see if anyone knew where jj was, and a really bad feeling started forming in the pit of your stomach when you got close and the street was extra full of cars. parking near the end of the street, you climbed out of your car and head music blasting, seeming to come from the pike house.

“really shouldn’t do this, you don’t want to know,” you mumbled to yourself. unfortunately, you were also really stubborn, so you did it anyway. wearing comfy clothes, definitely not party-appropriate, you walked to the door, fist bumping one of the guys you knew, sprawled out on the steps, clearly gone.

one of the boys who lived in the house was leaning up against the wall and looked shocked to see you, “yo, didn’t know you were coming tonight!”

“how long has this been planned?” you asked, crossing your arms across your chest.

“spur of the moment, just blowing off steam before midterms.”

you nodded, sinking feeling coming back, before hesitantly asking, “where’s jj?”

“last i saw, maybank was playing pong, don’t know if he’s still there or not.”

“right.”

you wandered off to where the pong tables were normally set up and saw him, drunk, laughing loudly as he sank a shot. there was loud cheering from everyone surrounding the table, and against your will, tears rose in your eyes.

normally, you weren’t a huge crier, but from exhaustion and stress over midterms had you feeling more emotional than usual. you didn’t realize the guy you’d been talking to earlier had followed you, and suddenly he was draped on top of you, yelling out, “maybank, look who finally decided to show up!”

he turned and grinned at you, “babe! why are you so late?”

you sighed, not wanting to deal with the fact that he regularly called you babe while drunk without it meaning a single thing, and chose to just answer, “didn’t know there was a party. plus i’ve been at the library all day.”

“oh, explains your outfit,” he joked, laughing a little meanly.

normally it wouldn’t bother you, but these weren’t normal circumstances. closing your eyes to push back the tears again, you felt the guy practically laying on top of you tense at your reaction. he glanced over at jj and warned, “hey, jj, maybe you should lay off.”

jj got a weird look on his face, “it’s just a joke.”

“real funny,” you croaked out, throat tight.

he looked really concerned and started to walk over, pausing only when you started to shrink back. jj looked hurt, shoving his hands in his pocket before asking, “are you upset because i didn’t invite you? it was super last minute, i promise, plus we started pre-gaming pretty early so it must’ve just slipped my mind.”

you laughed bitterly, “sure, we’ll just go with that.”

“hey, let’s get out of here,” the boy behind you suggested, gently pulling you away in attempt to defuse the tension that had risen between jj and you.

jj called after you, “hey, wait!”

you kept walking, not wanting to hear excuses from the drunk boy who clearly didn’t give a shit about your feelings. the other guy walked you back to your car in the dark and gave you a tight hug. the tears you’d been holding back started falling silently as you hugged back.

“i’m not sure what happened, but i’ll read him the riot act if you want.”

“nah, it’s okay, i’m probably just overreacting from stress.”

he nodded uncertainly, “if you’re sure.”

“i’m sure.”

you were almost asleep when there was a loud knock on your dorm room door. deciding to ignore it so whoever it was would go away, you rolled over in bed. unfortunately, it didn’t go away, and you didn’t really want your roommate to wake up, so you got up with a huff and went to answer it.

“what?” you asked rudely, swinging the door open.

jj was leaning against the door frame, looking less drunk than earlier but still not sober. he also looked really sad. you crossed your arms while he stared at you morosely, before asking, “did i do something?”

you sighed, “library at 4 with coffee and snacks ring any bells?”

his eyes widened before he cursed, slapping his hand on his forehead, “fuck, i’m so sorry, it totally slipped my mind. but it’s not a big deal, right? we can go tomorrow.”

the sick feeling was back, and you laughed bitterly, “right. always tomorrow. not like you meant to totally blow me off and then ignore all my calls and texts.”

he swayed a few times before shoving his hands in his pockets, “you sound upset.”

and the fucking tears made their third appearance of the night, “yeah, i’m fucking pissed, maybank. when you make plans with someone, stick to them. you blew me off today, it hurt my feelings and the first thing you say to me is a fucking insult. i got all my shit done, so have fun in the library tomorrow, i won’t be there.”

you let the door swing shut and went back to bed, burying your face in the pillow to finally, fully, let the tears fall. fuck him and his ability to mess with your feelings, it wasn’t fucking fair.

#frat!jj #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank request #pike!jj

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arielsojourner · 4 years

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Still wanting to marry this fic Part 4

There is suddenly a plot. I wasn’t planning a plot. WTF? I wasn’t even planning this part (or any other parts, I had other dragon!Jaskier plot bunnies) but then I read the comments to my post and suddenly IDEA. It is wild how that happens! You can thank Ciri for this part. She didn’t want to leave things (or Geralt) alone so here you go!

So have another ficlet where dragon!Jaskier attends a music festival and causes a riot. My love of @nemainofthewater‘s Shining Universe/dragon!Jaskier universe knows no bound (her fic can be found here, READ IT AND MY OTHER FICLETS FIRST OR THIS WILL MAKE NO SENSE: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22562836?view_full_work=true ).

Other ficlets (both connected and unconnected to this plot) are on my Tumblr under the tag #dragon!jaskier.

Geralt was climbing the most insane cliff side he’d ever seen over a turbulent sea. Geralt was doing this because if he didn’t Ciri said she would never speak to him again.

At first in the face of that threat, Geralt had rejoiced. Fine! Don’t speak! He didn’t like a lot of noise when he traveled anyway! But then she’d followed through on her threat. She actually followed through! No one (Jaskier) had ever managed to successfully follow through on that threat! Not in 20 plus years! They (Jaskier) had always given in in under an hour and begun talking and singing again. But Ciri not only followed through she kept it up. For days. She spoke to Roach. She spoke to people on the road. She even spoke to a monster he was trying to kill but she wouldn’t. Speak. To. Geralt.

Not until he apologized to Jaskier.

Which was why he was now climbing this stupid gods be damned cliff. Because his child by surprised would not speak to him, would pretend to be deaf around him, until he hunted down the bard and apologized and the bard accepted his apology.

He never should have told Ciri about Jaskier. He should have held his tongue. He never had a problem holding his tongue around other people (Jaskier) before! But nooooo, she pestered him and prodded him and when she’d confessed she’d seen Jaskier fly off with a dragon of all things, Geralt had given the game away and she had pounced!

(“A dragon? What dragon? Jaskier was with a dragon?”

“Ah-ha! So you do know him! I never said his name was Jaskier!” She crowed. “You lied when you said you didn’t know him! He said he’d known you, had been your companion for 20 years! Tell me about him! Why is he with a dragon? How could you have traveled with him for so long when he’s so young? Is he your son? I thought Witchers couldn’t have children! Is he a mage? He said he was there when my parents got married! He said my father was a hedgehog! He said my mother had powers! What was he talking about? Tell me and don’t lie! I’ll know if you lie!”)

Geralt had caved like he hadn’t caved to anyone (Jaskier) in years. Slowly, in fits and starts, over many days, Ciri had pulled it out of him, one tale at a time. The Devil of Posada. The djinn. Her mother’s betrothal banquet. And finally, finally the mountain and the dragon hunt.

Ciri was very quiet by the end of the tale. She looked at him with disappointment, some measure of pity, and a healthy dose of “You are a colossal idiot. Why do I love you again?” If he was being honest with himself he would say he knew that look all too well, though it had been sometime since he had seen it on anyone (Jaskier’s) face.

“You’re going to apologize,” Ciri said firmly and there was no argument in her voice, she sounded as commanding as her grandmother ever was. “You’re going to find him and you’re going to apologize to one of your oldest and dearest friends for being a-a horses ass and taking out your hurt on him just because he was there.”

“Don’t swear.”

“I’ll swear if I damn well please! You need to do this. You didn’t see his face when I was cruel to him, and said that he was a liar because I believed you instead. He was–he was so hurt that you’d never told me about him, that you pretended you never knew him. He asked if you were happy. He told me that was all that was important to him. That you were happy.”

Geralt turned away at that, unable to look in those earnest blue eyes that were so familiar to someone else’s (Jaskier’s) blue eyes. He felt a deep well of shame inside him that this time he couldn’t just push away or ignore or drown with drink or killing monsters. He had been cruel to someone who was kind to him and there was not much lower or more despicable than that, a person who repaid caring with disdain and hatred.

“I don’t know where he is,” he finally said. “No one’s seen him for years before the festival. The songs mentioned a dragon kidnapping a bard. I-I asked Yennifer to look for him once, but she couldn’t find him.”

“Well obviously he’s with his father who’s a dragon and his sister who’s a dragon. You just told me Borch was a dragon in human form who rescued a dragon’s egg. So he’s with Borch. They must have adopted him or something like that. Like you did with me. We just need to find Borch and then you’ll find Jaskier. Simple.”

Not simple, Geralt was finding as he clung to the cliff side, inching his way up the sheer face to the opening that was barely visible but that Geralt had to trust was there. If he made it to the top and Jaskier wasn’t there Geralt was not going to be happy.

“Hello there!” a voice called from far above.

He knew that voice. Borch. He’d found the dragon’s home at last. He risked lifting his chin to look up and saw the large scaled face peering down at him.

“Borch,” Geralt said in relief. “Don’t suppose you could give me a lift?” he asked.

“Sorry, no.”

Geralt gaped for a moment and then banged his forehead once against the cliff. “Fuck.” Ciri had warned him. She’d told him Jaskier’s “family” was very caring and protective of him. That protection obviously meant protecting Jaskier from Geralt!

Well, he was just going to have to prove Jaskier’s family wrong, wasn’t he! With a grunt, he reached for the next tiny handhold with his finger tips and pulled himself up another few inches. His fingers searched for the next handhold above his head.

“Slow going?” Borch asked.

“This is not as easy as it looks! I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t --urg-- wouldn’t distract me!”

“My apologies,” came the sardonic response.

“Fuck.” It bared repeating as he pulled himself up another few inches, a rain of dirt filling his mouth. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“I do hope you’re language improves on your journey up to our home. I’m not in the habit of letting my children hear such curse words no matter how satisfying they are to say. I’ve just gotten Julian to stop saying and thinking them and you shan’t be talking to him if that is all you have to say.”

With a snarl, Geralt risked a glare up the sheer cliff side to where the dragon rested on the ledge, clawed arms folded as he took his ease in the afternoon light. “I am talking with Jaskier and I’ll use whatever language I fucking want to!”

“It would be a pity, Geralt of Rivia, for you to have made it all this way only to be sent straight back down this cliff again. The choice is yours, however. You are coming uninvited into our home and such language is not permitted in our home or around my children.”

He really didn’t have much of a choice, he realized. Borch could pluck him off the side of the cliff and throw him into the sea. He could reach the top only for the dragon to bat him off the side and even he would probably not survive a fall from this height.

“Fine. I’ll fucking watch my language after I scale the cliff. Happy?”

“I’d be happier if you would go back down but I know too well how stubborn you can be. Take your time,” the dragon called closing his eyes to take a nap in the sun.

“Fuck,” Geralt growled as he struggled for his next hand hold. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

Better get it out of his system now, because dragon or no dragon, he was getting up this cliff and talking to Jaskier!

I have no idea where this came from. I have no idea what to write next but I hope you enjoyed this extra ficlet you sparked with your comments. :) Again, all hail and thanks goes to the amazing original author. I am just loving her dragon!Jaskier fic. I love ever bit of it to pieces. Go read and comment if you haven’t already! New chapters up daily. She is amazing!

#dragon!jaskier #witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #cirilla #borch three jackdaws

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lemonerix · 4 years

Text

Anthem of the Heart and Mind

Day 2: Crush or Pining/ Soulmate AU

Word count: 4152

[Warning: slight cursing ahead]

Soulmates aren’t unheard of in our world, but are very rare. There are many ways that two destined souls find each other, some ways are unique and strange, while others are simple. You could have a red string tied to your finger that would lead you to your soulmate. You could have the first thing they say to you written on your wrist. Some people even have watches that countdown to the moment they meet their soulmate. But having a someone meant for you makes your life a bit harder. You would have a lot on your mind, you would constantly think about them, wonder what they are like and wonder if they would like the kind of person you are. That kinda sucks, but it would be worth it when you finally meet “the one”.

Finding your soulmate also requires time and chance. There are some who find their soulmate a little bit too late and end up living the rest of their life with regret. There are some who aren’t just that lucky and miss each other before they could even have the chance to meet. That’s what scares me. I worry that I might’ve missed the chance to meet “the one” for me, or that I’m too late to find them. I overthink too much, I know. It’s one of my annoying quirks that hopefully my soulmate would tolerate.

This leads us to why I’m talking about soulmates and destiny. A month ago, I began hearing a melody. It wasn’t too loud to be distracting, but it was loud enough for me to hear it like a song being played a few rooms away. The tune was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, it was melancholic and longing, yet loving and hopeful. At first, I thought that I was going insane, but after consulting my friends and discussing about it in internet forums, I concluded that this might be how I meet my soulmate. I followed an anonymous advice on the web and wrote down the melody I heard; it was probably the best advice I got. But there was one problem, the song wasn’t complete. The melody in my head played in an endless loop and I was itching to hear the end.

Students were already heading to their first periods when I arrived at school. I headed to my locker to get a few things that I needed for my class. Gilbert was waiting for me by my locker, he gave me a small wave as I approached him. “Dude, don’t you have class right now?” I asked him. “We don’t have Home Economics today, after the incident with Kirkland yesterday.” He told me.

In our school, the Seniors begin their classes an hour earlier before the lower grades. Gilbert was a year older than me (I was in Junior year), he became a close friend of mine when I joined the Classical Music club in our school in my 7th year. I raised an eyebrow as I closed my locker and asked, “What happened yesterday?” Gilbert hummed before answering me, “Remember the exchange student I told you about, like a month ago?” I nodded, motioning for him to continue, “Well, that guy is definitely not gifted with culinary skill. Can’t cook for shit and can burn water for some reason. This wasn’t the first time he set something on fire, but it was the first time he blew something up. I can’t believe that he wasn’t expelled for it!” my friend laughed. “That guy must be a riot, huh?” I chuckled, seeing Gilbert’s delight as he reminisced the events of yesterday, “Heh, not really. Oh yeah, remember the text I sent ya earlier? Mr. Edelstein is going to introduce us to a new club member.” He told me.

“Oh yeah, I remember that. It’s rare for him to handpick students to join the orchestra. That guy’s standards are super high.” I remarked, Gilbert nodded in response. A smirk formed in his face, “Don’t you have somewhere else to be, kid?” I blinked for a moment, trying to figure out why he asked me that question. I felt my blood run cold when I realized I was late for class, I swore and sped down the hallway.

“Language, and no running in the halls, Alfred!” Gilbert cackled behind me as I hurried to my first period.

The day was very exhausting, all I wanted to do was flop on my bed and play video games all weekend. Unfortunately, the Classical Music club just had to ruin my weekend plans. I entered the club room and greeted my club-mates. Gilbert waved at me and frantically pointed to the seat beside him. I only rolled my eyes as I walked towards my friend, I bumped his fist as a greeting before the two of us engaged in a conversation. “Who do you think the newbie is?” I asked him, he only shrugged. The room was noisy with the conversations of students, we talked and laughed and joked.

“I heard that the new member is a prodigy.” I overheard someone say, “It seems like Gilbert is going to have some competition.” Another giggled. If Gilbert heard this, he didn’t show it. I know how egotistical he is (very much like me) and how he is very protective of his pride. All my years in the Classical Music club, I learned that Gilbert was the only prodigy that Mr. Edelstein introduced since the formation of the club. He could play the flute like some kind of flute god. He’s so good with the instrument that sometimes I don’t even believe that he’s actually human, maybe that’s why I looked up to the guy.

The whole room hushed when Mr. Edelstein walked into the room. We all straightened in our seats and listened to what he had to say. The man cleared his throat, “I guess you all know why you are called so suddenly out of the blue. I’m here to introduce a new member of the club,” he turned and gestured at the open door, “come now, don’t be shy.” All our heads craned to the door, where a young man walked in carrying a violin case. Something inside of me shifted when I laid my eyes on him, I watched him as he walked across the room. His hair yellow like butter, his skin was pale like porcelain, and his doll-like features took me aback for some reason. But his eyes struck me the most, they were like glittering peridots as they swept through the crowd, momentarily landing on me before returning their gaze on the floor.

I looked over at Gilbert and saw that his jaw was slack, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. I probably had the same expression on my face, but I was more enchanted than surprised.

“My name is Arthur Kirkland, I’m an exchange student from England. I hope we can all be friends.” He said formally. “Now that you have properly introduced yourself Arthur, why don’t you show us what you can do?” our teacher clasped his hands together and nodded at the boy. Arthur pulled out his violin, he tightened his bow and applied rosin on it before he began playing an excerpt of Vivaldi’s Winter. Everyone in the room were silenced in awe as we watched him play, his fingers moving gracefully on the instrument, hitting every note with perfection. But there was something else with him that I alone noticed. The little changes of expression on his face as he played, the way his body moved with the melody, and the way he played reminded me of something at the tip of my tongue. The song in my head gradually grew louder as I saw Arthur’s performance, but I paid no attention to it. All I saw was Arthur, and all I heard was the singing strings of his violin. I was ensnared by the music that I didn’t even notice that he was finished, no one made a sound as he bowed.

“HOLY SHIT, KIRKLAND?! YOU PLAY THE VIOLIN?!” Gilbert shot up beside me, grinning from ear to ear. Arthur’s face flushed, Mr. Edelstein glared at Gilbert and told him to sit down. Everyone in the room cheered and applauded for the new member, Mr. Edelstein roused everyone in the room and told us to sit in our respective groups. We were going to rehearse our newest piece; it was a piano concerto that Mozart composed, but I didn’t bother to remember the name of the piece. I was the only one who played the piano in the orchestra, so I had the most important role to play.

I made my way to the piano, humming a melody to myself. The room was filled with the sounds of instruments being tuned and students warming up. I cracked my knuckles and did some warm up exercises on the piano, making sure that I have my music sheet ready, and went over the measures that I needed to practice. In the middle of that cacophony of music, Mr. Edelstein hushed everyone in the room. I noticed that Arthur was standing by the chalkboard, observing the orchestra before him. Our maestro made us play the do-re-mi routine as warm up before we play the piece. He gave us the signal to stop, then he began to move his arms.

The winds and brass played the intro softly, gradually growing louder and faster. The strings followed, providing the counter melody of the winds and brass. When my part finally came up, I let the music lead me. My hands pressed the familiar keys as the tune I had practiced hundreds of times filled my ears. I couldn’t help but be seized by the music, a small grin tugged at my lips while the orchestra backed up my melody. I realized that we were almost at the end, so I had to look up at Mr. Edelstein to make sure I don’t miss the signal. I couldn’t help but steal a glance at the boy standing by the board. He regarded me with some kind of respect, before I returned my gaze at the conductor, narrowly missing the signal to stop. I accidentally hit a wrong key just as the song ended, and immediately everyone groaned at me. “Are you fucking kidding me, bro?” Gilbert raised his hands exasperatedly. “Mr. Beilschmidt! Another peep from you and I won’t hesitate to give you detention.” Mr. Edelstein warned the young man. I heard him stifle his laughter before clearing his throat and (not sincerely) apologizing to the older man. Our teacher only rolled his eyes and praised us for the job well done, and told us to practice over the weekend.

Mr. Edelstein made Gilbert stay behind and clean the room as punishment for his behavior earlier. I felt a little bad for him so I stayed behind and waited for him to finish cleaning.

“Sucks to be you, man.” I laughed, he glared at me and threw a broom at my general direction, making me laugh even more. “Mr. Edelstein is lucky that I like cleaning, but fuck him for ruining my plans for the weekend! Antonio and Francis probably hung out without me!” Gilbert groaned as he stacked the last of the chairs in the room and pushed them to the side. He then moved on to the music stands, folding them and placing them in their bags. “Does he even understand what we even go through? The stress we have to deal with? The deadlines we have to meet? Did he not go through high school himself?” He ranted. I was being a jerk by laughing, it wasn’t my fault that he sounds ridiculous while doing it. He glared at me and crossed his arms, “What’s so funny?” he asked irritated. I calmed myself down and told him that it was nothing. Gilbert only rolled his eyes and went back to his duty.

When he finally finished with cleaning up, I remembered something I meant to ask Gilbert earlier. “Oh yeah, I just remembered!” I rummaged through my bag and found the folder I was looking for. My friend’s eyebrow was arched as I showed him the composition I was working on, “What’s that?” he pointed at the folder. “Remember about the stuff I said about soulmates and junk last month? I decided to write it down, but I don’t know how it ends.” I showed him the contents of the folder. His ruby eyes skimmed through the pages, then he looked at me, “So you want me to finish it?”

“What? No! I just want some advice, dude. This is my soulmate we’re talking about. You can’t finish it for me.”

“Advice, huh?” Gilbert tapped his chin thoughtfully, “My advice is that you play it. Your soulmate might hear the song and the two of you could finally meet each other.”

I blinked, I never thought of actually playing it. Just more proof of how stupid I can be. “Oh my god, why haven’t I thought of that?” I grumbled to myself. Gilbert let out a boisterous laugh, “No need to thank me, Alfred, my boy. I am a genius, after all.” He ruffled my hair, making me grin. He can be an egotistical asshole sometimes, but Gilbert is like an older brother I’ve never had. Just another reason why I looked up to him.

I waved goodbye to Gilbert as we parted ways at the school gate, he waved to me before running to his two friends, planning to get into trouble once again. I headed the opposite direction, humming to myself. Dusk was near, the streetlights had already turned on and I couldn’t help but slow my pace and enjoy my walk home. The little town I was in wasn’t much, but it had so many things about it that made it charming, I realized that most of the time, I didn’t even appreciate its peaceful atmosphere.

Then something broke the quiet evening.

A singing violin echoed through the dusk, I stopped in my tracks and felt my heart leap inside my chest. I immediately whipped my head upwards as the familiar melody filled my ears. There, by a window on the third floor of the apartment, was Arthur. Playing his instrument with such grace, I felt compelled to go up the metal staircase on the side of the building to get closer to him. The music he played was almost like the melody in my head, but his song was brash and fast, it was an upbeat and wilder version of the melody I kept hearing. Then the music stopped, I saw him peering outside of the window and glance below. I panicked, if he sees me here, he’d think I’m a creep! I scrambled away from the building and down the street, hoping that he didn’t see me running away like a madman.

The year passed by so quickly, and before I knew it, classes were about to end. We were going to have a year-end recital, and a farewell party for our club seniors. The past several months, Arthur and I became acquaintances, then walk-home buddies, then friends (thanks to Gilbert). I also had a growing suspicion that there was a chance Arthur was my soulmate. Gilbert, my ever-loving friend, noticed that I was crushing hard on the Brit, and kept on finding ways to get me and Arthur together. At first, I tried to deny it, but in the end, I had no control over destiny. If he was meant to be with me, then he was. Not that I had any complaints. I also noticed that he had grew a liking to me, because he treated me a little bit differently than other people. In short, he’s just nicer to me. I also enjoyed the little things I noticed about him, and the small things that he would do for me. Fuck, I might be falling for him. Fuck that, I fell for him the moment he played in front of me.

“Alright! We’re going to wrap up the show with…Arthur and Alfred’s duet!” Mr. Edelstein shouted in the noisy backstage, he pointed to the two of us and gestured at us to get ready. I fixed my hair and straightened my bow tie, “Hey Artie, we’re up next!” I reminded him. “I know that, and stop calling me Artie!” he yelled at me, then he muttered something about the noisy room while he was trying to tune his violin. “Al, Arthur, side of the stage, right now!” I heard Gilbert shout over the noise. I walked towards the Brit and told him that we were up. He sighed and reluctantly followed me to the side of the stage.

We made it just in time as the school’s Glee club finished their song, the choir bowed and exited through the other side of the stage. “Hey, your bow’s a bit crooked.” Arthur said as he straightened my bow tie for me. I thanked him, he replied with a soft smile before we were pushed up the stage to perform. The audience clapped as we made our entrance and bowed. I sat by the piano, hands hovering slightly over the keys and Arthur stood beside me, already poised to play. The whole auditorium fell silent, I breathed in and out lightly, clearing my head from distractions. Then, I began to play.

Arthur soon followed, and the music from the two instruments joined to form a beautiful song that echoed throughout the building. It was perfect, it sounded like the two instruments were made for each other. The violin leads the piano’s melody, while the piano guided the violin’s rhythm and tempo. I let the music flood my senses, my hands were flying over the keys, like how Arthur’s fingers flew on the strings. We locked eyes and gave each other a knowing smile as we did the finale of the song.

The auditorium exploded with claps and cheers as we bowed once again and got off the stage. We were jumping like little kids on Halloween when we were off, “Holy shit dude, you were amazing out there!” I grinned at him. Arthur laughed, “No, the whole performance was brilliant because of you!” he and I continued to gush and praise each other for a job well done when someone interrupted us, “Alright, sorry for interrupting you two lovebirds, head over to the other side of the stage. We’re gonna do the closing remarks.” Gilbert told us nonchalantly and left without another word. I felt my ears grow warm when he called us “lovebirds”, he can be a good friend sometimes, but he’s a total jerk at the moment. Arthur cleared his throat, “We should go.” He said, I nodded in agreement and the two of us went through the backstage.

We did the closing remarks, everyone who performed got to bow on the stage as pictures were taken and farewells were said as the night grew deeper. Mr. Edelstein told us to stay behind for a little while, because the farewell party was about to begin. Most of the younger students and a few older students left early, because they didn’t want their parents to worry or were too tired to party. I decided to stay behind, because I wanted to see Gilbert and Arthur off before they leave high school. I was gonna miss Gilbert big time, he was like some kind of parent-figure I had in school, and he taught me more than I could ever let on.

The farewell party was to be held in the auditorium, a few rows of the plastic chairs were moved to the side to make room for the dance floor and for the snack table. The seniors have already begun to make the most of the night. Several of them were dancing to the music roaring from the speakers, a few were standing on the side chatting with each other, while others were just enjoying the music, snacks and punch. I decided that I won’t dance that night, because I had one final thing to do before the seniors leave. I made my way back to the stage, where the piano was still set up. Arthur must’ve saw me walk to the stage, because when I got there, he was right behind me. “Hey, why aren’t you over there dancing on the dance floor?” He asked. “I’m a little worn out to dance tonight. Besides, I was just grabbing something from the backstage.” I told him. He asked me if he could come with and I just nodded, I wanted for him to come with me after all.

After I spotted my bag, I took out the folder containing the unfinished composition. “What’s that?” Arthur asked me, “It’s something I’ve been working on. It’s not finished yet, but I want you to listen to it and give me advice on how I should finish it.” He took the folder from my hand and studied the notes carefully. His eyes widened momentarily before he asked me to play it.

We went to the stage where the piano was at, I sat on the seat and placed the notes on the piano. Arthur watched me carefully, as if he was expecting something brilliant to happen. My heart was now racing, it was now or never. I played the first measure slowly, then gradually went faster as I progressed. The melody was no longer looping in my head, but was surrounding me. I could feel it touch my skin, I could almost taste the sweetness and bitterness the music had. It was just a sensation too ineffable to describe. Then, I stopped. That was where the song ended abruptly. I turned to Arthur to ask what he thought about the song, only to find him with tears brimming in his eyes. I opened my mouth to say something before he grabbed my arm and pulled me backstage.

He engulfed me in a hug as he sobbed into my shoulder. I was shocked and confused, I stood still as he continued to cry. “It’s you. I’ve finally found you.” He said, his voice breaking a little bit. “Arthur…what are you—?”

“You are the song in my heart. The one I’ve been looking for since I’ve learned to play music. Your song clouded my heart every single day. I’ve spent so long searching, and now I’ve finally found you.” He laughed, tears still streaming down his cheeks. I began to finally piece together the events that happened so quickly, everything finally became clear, all of my doubts and suspicions were finally silenced. Arthur is my soulmate. He is the melody in my mind. The song that kept repeating over and over, finally had an ending to complete it. I did not notice the joyful tears in my eyes as I hugged him back. We both laughed and cried like madmen as we were wrapped in each other’s arms. We finally calmed down from the joy and ecstasy we felt, he had lowered his arms to my side as I wiped away his tears with my thumb. Our foreheads rested against each other, noses almost touching and I could feel his heart beating against my chest. I wanted to make the first move and kiss him, but I guess Arthur had the same idea. His lips captured mine and pulled me towards him, I pressed him against the wall where he began to grind his hips against mine. We were so caught up in the moment that we did not notice someone enter the backstage.

“What the—? Oh, god. I’m so sorry for interrupting.” Mr. Edelstein apologized and briskly walked out of the room. Immediately, both of us flung each other away like two magnets with the same pole. I heard running footsteps and Gilbert sprinted to see what was going on, “Holy shit, what the hell were the two of you doing back here? Mr. Edelstein just walked out of the building, red as a cherry!” Gilbert, the jerk he is, wiggled his eyebrow. I groaned as other students came to see what happened. I glanced at Arthur, who I caught was staring at me. His lips were swollen, his suit disheveled and his face the color of strawberries, he looked godly. Arthur let out a small giggle, then it turned to laughter. I couldn’t help but smile and laugh with him. Gilbert and the other students stared at us in confusion, like they missed some kind of inside joke.

I didn’t care, tonight was the night that changed my life forever, and nothing’s going to ruin it for me.

***

I was inspired by some stuff that happened to me in my junior high, I’m part of a school band (it’s not really classical, we focus on traditional instruments most of the time. Our school’s marching band is something else entirely.) and it’s really something that I’ve always wanted to write about. Anyway, sorry for feeding ya’ll this useless info about me. I hope you enjoyed the story!

#usuk #usukweek #aph america #aph england #fanfic #Hello fellow astronomers

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shiveringpinkala · 4 years

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voyage to the heart’s land

so, i wrote a fic for @renelemaires because i’m not good at headcanons as was initially requested, but i can do this apparently. sending happiness and good vibes your way!

voyage to the heart’s land; renee lemaire after the war w/ vague hints of baberoe, renee/gene and possible future renee/gene/babe. 2969 words.

Renee left Belgium two years after the war ended.

She loved her home, but the magic of the forests and memories of running around the city square in the blush of youth no longer held the easy charm that she associated with those times. And so, one day, in the height of July’s peaking summer, she pulled out an old atlas of her father’s – yellowed at the edges, curls crinkling on the front of most pages, one corner missing and taking a chuck of the Soviet Union, Egypt and Newfoundland with it – and looked for something new.

She bookmarked Morocco for the language and Portugal for the ocean, but stopped completely when she reached the United States. Jagged borderlines between oddly shaped provinces and big – so much bigger than Belgium, bigger than Europe – and thought of Eugene. She traced her fingers down the neatly labeled Appalachian Montagnes, bypassing the likes of Virginia, the Carolinas, Georgia and sweeping over until she landed on Louisiana; little dots pointing out the towns of New Orleans and Baton Rouge. She tapped idly on the image and thought of the Eugene’s low voice and rough accent, the weary determination in his eyes. Her hands stilled.

Louisiana is was then.

Her mother kissed her cheeks at the train station. Her father tucked a riot of bills in her pocket and when she tried to protest, only said to write when she reached America. The subsequent journey took her out to England and then to an ocean liner setting sail for New York. She spent every waking moment she could on deck, drinking in the spray of ocean air and watching contentedly as an Irish mother of four tired to corral her children unsuccessfully.

Once she landed in New York, she asked the nearest shop owner – a plump, friendly woman with a thick Polish accent – where she could find a telegraph office and was given an escort in the form of the woman’s ten year old son who delivered her to her destination with a gap toothed smile. She sent her message; carefully relaying the address that was postmarked on the envelope of the single letter Eugene had written her a year earlier, hoping he hadn’t gotten the urge to pick up roots as well in the time that had lapsed. From there, it was off to the currency exchange station, and then to a hotel. She spent two days in New York, enjoying the rush of bodies and movement despite herself, listening to the array of languages and marveling at the lights that never seemed to dim. On the third morning, she ventured to Grand Central Station and caught a train headed to Philadelphia.

The ride was surprisingly short, but it was also dark and her next train wasn’t due to leave until the morning, but – to her surprise – when she stepped onto the platform there was a giant hand-written sign with her name on it in blocky letters. She blinked, caught out and cautiously approached the strangers huddled around it. One of the men, short and solidly built, braced on a pair of crutches, beamed when he spotted her approach and waved her over.

“Hello?” She asked, still confused. The pretty – and lone – woman standing beside the man in question rolled her eyes at the man’s enthusiasm and held out a hand of Renee when she got close enough.

“Ignore him,” she said, waving a hand at the man’s indignant bark, “I told him that no woman in their right mind would want to walk over to a group of strange rabble without reason, but he insisted,” she smiled, “I’m Frannie.”

“Renee,” she answered bemused, “as you know, apparently. How did –”

“Babe sent us,” the man said, accent broad and unfamiliar, but not unappealing, “Doc told him you were coming and he told us.”

“Babe?” Renee asked, looking at Frannie to see if he was being serious.

“You’ll meet him when you get down there,” he said, “My name’s Bill. Guarnere. I served with the Doc. And this here –” he looked over at the person holding the sign and then whacked at the legs peeking out underneath it with one crutch, “— put that down, ya idiot. There’s a lady present. This is Ralph Spina, one ‘a Doc’s fellow medics.”

Ralph lowered the sign with her name and sent Bill a caustic glare, then looked back at her and nodded. “Nice ta meet you, ma’am.”

“Renee is fine,” she smiled at the trio, unduly charmed, “it’s nice to meet you as well.”

Frannie stepped forward and looped an arm through Renee’s and pointed at her bags, “Ralph get those, will you? Right this way, honey. No friend of Doc Roe is spending the night in some roachy motel. You like Italian? I was thinking ravioli or gnocchi, maybe.”

Renee dropped the protest that she could carry her own luggage when Ralph picked it up immediately and followed in Frannie’s footsteps without complaint. She thought about Eugene and this Babe person arranging for her to have a welcoming party and let the bickering chatter between the three American’s envelope her in gentle waves.

The dinner was amazing (“Now that rationing’s lifting, makes getting the right ingredients easier.” Bill laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at Ralph, and their other friend Joe Toye, who only rolled his eyes at Bill’s bombastic tone, “No more Army noodles here.”) and the company even better as they told her endless stories about what seemed to be every single man they’d served with. At some point, she realized she was laughing so hard that tears were actually welling in her eyes and the salt in them felt like a cleansing of some kind. Like a layer of heavy silt had been washed from her soul. She fell asleep on her borrowed bed that night with a smile on her face.

To repay their generosity, she woke up early – not difficult as her internal clock was a mess from slipping between time zones so quickly – and made a somewhat augmented version of her mother’s waffles and homemade hot chocolate for everyone.

Frannie took a sip while the boys ate seconds – or in Joe’s case, thirds – and said: “That was really good. If everything you make is this good, you should sell it. No point in giving heaven away for free.”

Renee thought about lazy mornings making bread with her mother in the kitchen of their old house. Kneading the dough, watching it rise and the whole house filling up with the smell as it baked. Regular cooking had never been something she’d had much patience for, but baking was something else entirely. She’d always found a peace in the careful measurements and methodical movements; her mind could wander away and rest from its troubles. The look on someone’s face when they took a bite was only a bonus.

She stared down at her hands and thought, for the first time in a long time, that maybe there was something special about them.

“Maybe,” she murmured and enjoyed the contentment of a job well done.

Frannie and the boys saw her off hours later. “Write, you hear,” Frannie said, hugging her tightly, “I need more women in my life that’ll understand my pain.”

“I am a goddamned joy and you know it,” Bill argued, but also pulled Renee into a one-armed embrace. “Tell those idiots to write too, ain’t like they don’t have pens and paper in the swamp.”

“I will. And thank you,” she directed the last at the whole group, who waved away the gratitude with mumbled protests and continued waving as she stepped onto the train.

This one took her to Charleston, down through rolling green hills and farmlands that gave the country some space, opening up into long tracks of fields that both reminded her of home and was nothing at all like it. It was only a stop over this time, but the hour of rest came with polite men and women, an ocean view and accents that were similar to Eugene’s. The leg after took her down to Georgia where she drank an ice-cold Coca-Cola from a Soda Fountain in the rail yard and watched a group of kids played a game right in the middle of the street with a ball and stick; jeers and cheers filtering into the open door of the Fountain. From Savannah, the train took her all the way to New Orleans.

New Orleans was like stepping into a different world. Music seemed to be infused in the air around her from the minute she got off the train; slow saxophone’s and staccato snares, trumpets whisking a melody away into the melting summer breeze. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, taking in the atmosphere. She walked around some of the city; wandering into the French Quarter and marveling at the architecture and listening to accented French coming in fits and stops from the residents who tipped their hats at her as she passed. Eventually, she found herself in a kind of civic center and asked for directions to the town that Eugene had written to her from. The kindly older man working there, showed her where it was on a map and arranged for her to get a cab down.

The bayou, as she learned the whole area was referred to, was almost like something out of a fairy tale. Swamps, running into jungle forests and moss covering everything from the trees to the roofs of the houses half-hidden from the road. The cab dropped her off at a little general store/café that the driver in question assured her would be helpful if she was looking for someone in particular.

A few curious eyes lit on her when she walked into the open aired restaurant, but the stares were without hostility and her purpose was quickly deduced correctly because a kind looking woman with wild grey-touched curls in a faded red dress came up to her with a smile.

“You look like a woman who could use a hand,” she said, eyeing the suitcase and bag at Renee’s feet, “I’m Bea, what can I help you with, sugar?”

“I was told that you could help me find someone?” Renee asked.

Bea’s eyes widened and she whistled lowly. “Honey, that is some pretty voice you got there. As for help, I know just about every person in this neck of the woods; and if I don’t, then they ain’t here. Who you looking for?”

“Eugene Roe.”

A fond smile settled on Bea’s lined face. “That boy got popular in Europe,” she commented and then led Renee over to one of the wrought iron tables in the café. “You sit tight and I’ll give ‘im a call, alright?”

Renee thanked her and sat there, nerves suddenly erupting her stomach as she waited. It had been so long and she had basically invited herself. Maybe he’d be cross? But no, why send a welcoming committee in Philadelphia otherwise? She drummed her knuckles on the table and was only interrupted when Bea set some iced, amber colored liquid in front of her; condensation beading at the tall glass.

“Sweet tea,” Bea explained, “It’s a staple down here. Best get used to it, if you’re staying.”

Renee took a drink, flavor bursting across her tongue. The coolness of it hit her and relaxed some of the tension that had sprung up. “It’s good,” she said, a little surprised.

“Glad to hear it,” Bea replied, grinning. She patted Renee on the shoulder and then twirled away to serve another customer.

When Eugene finally arrived, it took Renee a moment to recognize him. Gone were the worn green army fatigues, and in its place was a pair of denim jeans and a button up checked shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His black hair was a bit longer and his skin had lost the deathly pale hue that she got used to seeing in Bastogne, warming to a pale caramel under his home’s beating sun. She couldn’t stop the smile from lighting up her face at the sight and stood up, so that he could see her better.

Sure enough, he spotted her and froze in the middle of the café before a more subdued, but no less genuine version of his own, smile crossed his features. He resumed his walk and when he was standing in front of her and – after a moment’s hesitation – gently pulled her into his arms. The breath she’d been painfully holding in her lungs gave way, and she breathed in the woodsy citrus kick of his aftershave as she held on.

“It’s good to see you,” he said into her hair, before pulling away to look at her.

“Vous aussi,” she said which softened his smile into loveliness.

“These your bags?”

“Oui. They are.”

“Well, okay then,” he reached down and picked them up, “I got the guest room made up,” he stopped for a moment and then shrugged, expression sheepish, “unless you’d rather stay at an inn? Your choice, o’ course.”

“Your guest room is fine,” she said, following him out of the café, where they waved goodbyes to Bea, who hassled them into agreeing to lunch the next day, “as long as your friend doesn’t mind?”

A series of emotions flickered over his face before settling into rueful. “Edward don’t mind; he’s the one been fretting about pillows or some such since your wire.”

The last knot of anxiety loosened in her gut at that. “Then lead on.”

Eugene’s – “Gene, I insist.” – house was a medium sized bungalow set back a little way from the dirt road and surrounded by a sparse, moss ridden wood with the nearest neighbors half-a-mile down the road. It was sweet and Renee found an instant kinship to the large dormer windows and wide porch that extended out from the house.

“It’s not much,” he said, almost sounding apologetic.

Renee refrained from saying that any standing building was stunning to her now, no matter the size or color or shape. “It’s beautiful,” she told him honestly.

They were greeted at the dog by a floppy eared beagle whose whole hindquarters wriggled when Renee leaned down to pet him. “That’s Rex,” Gene said, rolling his eyes good naturedly at the pup, “wandered into the yard one day and never left. Ain’t much of a guard dog, as you can see.”

“He doesn’t need to be. He’s lovely exactly the way he is,” she said, laughing when he took a chance to lick at her cheek.

Gene led them into the house. Renee took in the cozy decorating, lacking a bit in the way that most male driven houses did, and was examining a series of photos on an end table when the last resident of the house came bounding around the corner, stopping abruptly when he saw her. He was as Bill had described him – skinny, redhaired, eyes too big for his ugly mug – though she would argue the ‘ugly’ descriptor; he had a sweet, open face that put her at ease immediately.

“Hey,” he said, practically vibrating in anticipation, giving her a half-wave from his place in the doorway and biting his lip, “you must be Renee. It’s nice to meet you, finally.”

“Enchante, Edward. I’ve heard much about you.”

“You have? From – wait, Edward?” He looked over at Gene who was deliberately turned away, though Renee could see the hint of a pleased grin on his face. “Really, Gene; Edward?” He turned back to Renee in a mild huff. “Call me Babe, everyone does.”

“Babe,” she agreed, noticing that some of the stiffness in his frame had disappeared in the wake of the mix-up. Probably, that was Gene’s intention all along.

“Right. Are you hungry? Gene was making some kind of stew thing –”

“It’s jambalaya, Babe, you know this.”

“— before Bea called. It’ll make your senses wish they’d died, but it tastes amazing.”

Renee nodded. “I’d love to try some.”

She sat at the dining table as Gene and Babe worked seamlessly around each other in the small kitchen, and rather than feeling awkward or forgotten, both men managed to include her in their ritual, making her feel as at home for the first time since the bombs began to fall. Babe, in a similar vein to Bill, gave her all the gossip about town, while Gene corrected the most outlandish claims the redhead made (“It did not try to eat you, Babe.” “It wanted too – I could tell, stared at my leg like it was a rack of ribs.” “It was an alligator snapping turtle not an actual gator.” “Well, what he hell’s it got alligator in its name for then, huh? Huh Gene? Answer me that!”) with a well-rehearsed fondness.

The jambalaya was as Babe advertised it – amazing, but eye wateringly spicy – and was finished off with powered French pastries Gene called beignets. Gene asked about her journey and she indulged them with the story, making sure to thank them for setting Frannie and the others in her path.

“Bill says that you two must write him sometime. He was quite insistent,” she said teasingly.

Babe snorted. “Sure. Tomorrow I’ll send him a telegram: Dear Bill, screw you, Love Babe.”

She laughed and Babe grinned all the brighter for it. Gene shook his head, but his eyes kept bouncing between them with a contentedness that Renee was glad to see he was capable of. It made the restless, inadequate feelings in her heart go into hibernation. A tranquil hush came to a rest in her blood. Whatever may come, she thought she could be herself here. Perhaps even be truly happy.

It was a something to look forward too. A gift.

And she intended to enjoy it.

#it's longer than i intended #(was supposed to be a ficlet)#hopefully you like it!#*fingers crossed*#band of brothers #gift fic #renee lemaire #eugene roe #babe heffron

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writing-noah · 4 years

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Let's Go Back In Time

Time Capsules are an interesting thing to have as a kid.

They're these little boxes filled with objects that, years ago, meant the world to you.

For people unfamiliar with the time capsule, it may seem like a bunch of randomly selected objects thrown in a box that's called differently.

It couldn't be further from the real thing.

Kirishima never really thought about that old box until an hour ago. Hell, he even forgot about it completely. Had it not been for Gishian's call, that box would've ended up in the garbage and he wouldn't even care.

Eijirou didn't even think about the contents of that box until he was right in front of the arcade.

Was he really doing this? Getting an old box he hid with his ex-boyfriend that was filled with beautiful memories from when they were together? Memories of U.A. and his friends?

Memories of being a hero.

Because that ended up becoming a dream that Eijirou would never achieve. Becoming a hero. Saving people.

After he lost his quirk, everything fell apart.

"Eiji!"

A voice made him come back to reality, smiling at the sight of his old friend.

"Gishian!"

"You've changed so much, my boy! And you were finally able to be taller than me!" Kirishima laughed at that, tightly hugging the man.

Gish had known him his entire life. He was the owner of the arcade and also the one in charge of fixing the games if one broke down. Eijirou was six when they met.

That was twenty years ago.

"It was about time!"

Gishian nodded, an amused smile on his face. "It's really good to see you, my boy. It's a pity you don't visit anymore."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that. You know I've been working a lot."

"Yes, I know. But you should also have some time for yourself. I remember how much fun you had trying out all the games when you were younger... but let's not talk about it. How's the family?"

They started walking towards the back of the arcade, being careful not to be run over by excited kids running around.

"Everyone is great! My mothers ended up moving to a smaller place because mom got tired of the stairs. Grandpa finally called his son and daughter and they've been talking things out. Nonna and Nonno are spending some time back in Italy before they continue their journey around the world. Cousin Hotaro has a company that's going amazingly, and I think he's gonna do some sort of partnership with Futaba about a new product... Things have been great, yeah."

"And what about you? Are you still looking for a path to follow?"

Eijirou shrugged. "It depends on what happens around me. Right now I'm employed and just... going. It's been tiring, but I'll be fine."

"And what about the guitar and the singing? You left that aside?"

"That's actually how I'm making some extra money. One of my friends has a bar and she lets me play at night as background. I don't have to be on stage so that's why I can do it."

"Taller than me but you still struggle with crowds." Gishian smiled.

"It's a work in progress! My main objective was getting taller than you. Now that that's out of the way, I can focus on not freezing on stage!"

Gishian laughed, softly shaking his head. "I see... And how are your friends? I've seen them on the news a bunch of times. Great heroes!"

"Yeah, everyone has their agencies or are working with one of the top heroes... They're amazing."

"And you are too, my boy. Fighting villains and doing all that risky stuff isn't the only way to be a hero. You can also be one." Gishian put a hand on Eijirou's shoulder, squeezing it softly. Then, he let go. "I'll get the box, give me a second."

The man disappeared behind a door labeled "Staff Only", and Kirishima waited outside as he thought about those last words.

Thanks, Gish.

《》

Eijirou kicked the door closed the moment he entered his house, the heavy box from the arcade between his hands. He left it on the table, a relieved sigh exiting his lips as he softly caressed his arms.

"What on Earth did we put in this that's so heavy? Jesus... And why did we hide it inside one of the games!? That must be one of the worst places ever!" The now black-haired boy sat on the couch, lazily stretching as he made himself comfortable. It was still early for dinner, so he simply stared at the ceiling for a couple minutes.

...

Should he open the box?

No. They made a promise to open it together years ago. He can't break that promise.

...

But in reality, another broken promise wouldn't change things. Eijirou had already broken most of the promises he made with Kaminari anyways.

How he promised they'd always be together, have an agency with Bakugou, Mina and Sero and be the best heroes of all times. How he promised to even marry him, even though both of them saw the whole marriage and celebration as something unnecessary and over the top...

Just how many lies was his younger self able to tell?

Kirishima finally sat up on the couch, positioning himself right in front of the box. He sighed, hands getting close to the little lock desperately trying to avoid the box from popping open.

With a soft pull, it broke. And all the memories came rushing back to Eijirou as soon as he started recognizing the objects inside the box.

The first two things were extremely noticeable. Two plushies, a Pikachu and a Shark. They won them on their first date, at the arcade. Kaminari was determined to get a plush from the claw machine. And he did. The amazing thing was that the shark was stuck on Pikachu's tail, so he got both of the plushies at once.

After taking those out, two newspaper clips came to view. Those were covered in clear tape as a protection so they wouldn't get ruined with moisture and time.

The first one's headline was covered with silly drawings and scribbles. Because that wasn't important. The date was.

September 14th. The day they hid the box nine years ago.

The second one read "HEROES DEBUT: RED RIOT AND CHARGEBOLT". This one was pretty straightforward.

Next, Eijirou found four tickets. Two of them were for the first musical play he ever saw, which Kaminari bought tickets to and invited him. The second pair was for a concert of Kaminari's favourite band. Those were bought by Eijirou, as a thank you for the musical.

A bunch of cassettes were there too, all from different artists. They promised to listen to them when they opened the box together. Also a DVD of Kami's favorite movie, "Back to the Future".

After digging through hundreds more memories, he finally reached the very bottom of the box. There were two awful drawings of each other, made at a picnic date because Denki had the sudden idea. Those didn't fail to make Kirishima laugh.

Right after taking out the drawings, two letters came to view. One had written "For Future Eijirou" on it. The other, "For Future Denki".

He took his letter, opening it before he could think about it and starting to read what his younger self hoped he achieved in a nearby future.

Eijirou could only read all the stuff he didn't accomplish.

"Hope you're still close to 1-A after graduation and hanging out as much as possible!"

He was a lonely loser drowning himself in work so he wouldn't think about how he lost all his friends. Oh, and he didn't graduate at U.A.

"Hope you are an amazing hero who saves people with a manly smile!"

He could barely remember how to genuinely smile after losing his quirk thanks to the Quirk-Destroying Drug. After that happened, he had nothing to do with U.A.

"Hope you're eating healthier just like mamma told you, taking care of yourself and also exercising constantly!"

Visiting gym once a week counts as a win? And the rest... well...

"Hope you still love Denki with all your heart!"

...

That didn't change at all.

Eijirou left the letter next to him, his eyes tingling as the tears started to build up in his eyes. He used the back of his hands to wipe the falling tears away, putting all the memories back in the box.

How could he give up so fast? He isolated himself from everyone, even from himself. He stopped talking to everyone, blocked absolutely all his friends and broke up with the man he loved the most.

All because his quirk was removed? He felt like an idiot.

Yeah, quirks are a big part of people, but that doesn't mean it's everything. He was still Eijirou Kirishima. He was still that cheerful guy who wanted to help people, no matter how. That guy who loved his friends and family, and most importantly, himself.

How did he forget all that so suddenly?

He got up from the couch, the determination building up in his chest. Right now, only one thing was on his mind.

"It's time to change that."

《》

Well, this wasn't planned at all.

After an impulsive decision and two hours in an airplane, he was right in front Kaminari's door at his apartment in Kyoto. He felt the doubt taking over after realizing he had no plan, no words and no idea how to explain this.

...shit, should he even knock? What if Denki was busy? Or wasn't even there? Should he really dig up the past?

And why in the world did he bring the box with everything!? That was an even worst idea!!

He should just turn back and pretend this never happened. Bothering Denki after all this years would just be—

"Eijirou?"

Well fuck.

He turned around, the man he was so scared to see again right in front of him.

"Denki..."

Kaminari barely changed from how he was at U.A. His hair was still a bright yellow with a lightning bolt across the bangs, a bit shorter at the back. A couple piercings decorated his face on the lower lip and right eyebrow, and Kirishima could see he was wearing some lip gloss too.

He was clearly not expecting anyone, judging from the Doritos and drinks he was carrying, and also because he was dressed with oversized clothes he only used to be at home playing videogames or watching movies.

He looked beautiful.

"What... are you doing here? Why are you here!? And HOW!?" Denki's eyes looked like they'd pop out of their sockets with how surprised he was.

"Well, I... um... Gishian had to take out some games from the arcade, and he found this inside Super Smash."

Kaminari was suddenly right in front of Eijirou, his fingers softly brushing across the edge of the box.

"Our time capsule... I totally forgot about it."

Eijirou chuckled. "Yeah, I did too. I opened it and looked through some stuff and I just... wanted to see you so bad, Denki. I never apologized for acting like such a dick, and for hurting you the way I did. Losing my quirk hit me hard but that didn't allow me to say such things to you. You were there to try and make me feel better and the only thing I did was push you away. And I'm so sorry for that." His sight turned blurry again, tears starting to spill without him being able to avoid it.

"Hey, hey..." The blond left his groceries aside, and he did the same with the box that was between Kirishima's hands. Then, he grabbed him by the cheeks, using his thumbs to get rid of the tears that were rolling down Eijirou's face. "It wasn't all your fault, Eijirou. It was wrong of me to try and distract you from something that big. I wanted to see you back smiling so bad I tried to forcefully make you forget that. You were allowed to be sad, but I didn't understand that. I'm sorry."

Eijirou put his hands over Kaminari's, closing his eyes. That simple touch made his stomach flip a hundred times.

"I missed you so much, Denki..."

"I missed you too, Eijirou." The blond let go of the guy's cheeks and hugged him tight, his face hidden on the crook of Kirishima's neck. The black-haired boy hugged him back just as tight.

They stood there, in the middle of the hallway, for around half an hour. Once the tears stopped, they felt like it was the right time to let go and take a step back.

"I'm glad I can see you again."

Kaminari nodded, grabbing his groceries once again. "I'm glad you came, Eiji... Wanna come inside? I don't have anything scheduled today. We can open the box, talk a bit, have dinner... You can stay over if you'd like!"

"Considering I came here impulsively and didn't even look for a hotel... I'd like that a lot, yeah."

"Great! Because I also need to know what happened to you, dude!? You look exhausted, and you haven't shaved or dyed your hair in what seems to be a looong time! Have you been taking care of yourself?" Kaminari easily unlocked the door and entered his apartment, leaving the door open for Kirishima. He followed, box between his arms just like when he arrived.

"I have, man! I go to the gym on Fridays and—"

"Only Fridays!? That's not good for you, Eijirou! How many hours do you sleep? And what have you been eating!?"

"Um..."

"Junk food, am I right!? For the love of All Might, I'm gonna kill you, dude! That's not automatically fixed with ONE DAY of exercise! You know this!"

"I'm not a hero, I don't need that kind of training!" He left the box on the table, his eyes following Denki as he walked towards the kitchen to get water and open what he bought.

"It wasn't being a hero what pushed you to exercise and be healthy! I remember how you looked every time you were at the gym or at Gamma. You always looked as if you were home. Smiling, enjoying yourself. Your quirk only made your skin hard. The strength that allowed you to even punch down buildings was yours, Ei."

"Well, I don't need to tear down buildings anymore. So we're good."

"That's your excuse for not doing what you love? "I don't need it anymore"? Seriously?"

"Kinda, yeah!"

"...I'm about to change the Doritos to apples and force you to eat healthy. I'm THIS CLOSE."

"Oh, c'mon! You're not mamma. Just bring the Doritos."

"Why should I?"

"Because Doritos and Back to the Future is better than fruit and a movie, man."

The room stayed silent for a couple seconds until Denki barked a laugh.

"Fine. ONLY for the movie!!"

"You got it, Bolt."

It was an amazing night with Kaminari, catching up after all these years without each other. They talked about the past and everything inside the box at first, and that was followed by graduation, work, family and a lot more.

They were finally done after three hours of talking, so it was time to start watching the movie. While Kaminari turned on the DVD and everything, Kirishima was getting some blankets and pillows. He threw everything on the couch and turned off the lights once the movie was ready to start.

Denki sat down next to him, pillows all around him. He covered himself in blankets just like Eijirou did, scooting closer to the boy so he could use him as a pillow.

Just like old times.

《————————》

And that's all, I think! Had this idea after reading the Kirishima Headcanons my friend @bunnyramen wrote! Go check them out!!

#bnha #writing #kirishima eijirou #eijirou kirishima #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #kirikami #kamikiri #darknoahshere #Time Capsule

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chaniters · 4 years

Text

Masquerade

The next part of @kruk-art‘s Awan Cormac fic. Writing the final parts of this finally!

Infiltrating GeniTech’s party, the rangers attempt to change the board’s mind about the riot, but things on the inside aren’t as calm as they initially seem.

Spoilers ahead for Rebirth, as usual.

__________________________________

You glance nervously to your left, as a whole platoon of soldiers clad in articulated carapace armors scrambles through the corridors ahead of you.

In your mind, GeniTech’s Arcology is now the Trojan fortification, the rioters are the greek, and the lot of you are a an improvised rebellious third party refusing to let history repeat itself, hidden inside the wooden horse Ortega asked you to build. All you can do is hope it won’t get burnt before crossing the gate.

“You’re clear.” the guard announces. “Excuse me for the delay, we didn’t think anyone would be joining this late… especially with what’s happening…”

Ortega watches him without a word, before putting his mask back on.

“...Enjoy the party” the guard states drily, opening the gate.

All of you walk past, putting your masks back on, not stopping until the elevator’s doors close. It quickly fires upwards, taking you to the upper floor, where GeniTech’s Halloween celebration takes place.

“Well done everyone,” Ortega says when it seems no guards are listening.

Elyise disabled the dampeners, Steel used your scrambler to deactivate their retinal scan and you made them think you were legitimate party guests and that everything was in order. Anathema added fake zippers and other details to your suits so they have a Halloween-costume flair to them.

This would have been pretty standard infiltration were you still at the farm, but it’s blowing your mind for completely different reasons. Most humans wouldn’t know what to say to their creator if that even existed. That’s no dilemma for you, though. The farm might have assembled you, but GeniTech came up with the very idea of you. What would you say to them, the people who invented you? What would you even…-

“Be on alert everyone,” you say coming back to earth. “Steel, will use his scanners to find board members. Elyise will deactivate the scramblers in the area one at a time. The rest, distract them with conversation until Ortega can get into position, and then…” you go on explaining.

You suggested using your powers to change the Boards mind and let the people take refuge in the Arcology, but, it was Ortega who came up with this infernal plan. You have to admit it was a really good one. You still suggested a ton of changes needed for it to actually work, and the Marshall ended up putting you in charge in return. Steel’s glare made It’s painfully obvious everyone now knows you’ve got more experience with covert operations than any of them suspected, a point you had been trying to conceal, but that can’t be helped.

“We’re here. Remember, mingle and wait for Steel’s word. Ready, Marshall?” you ask looking to Ortega, who gives a quick nod, giving this operation the go signal.

___________________________________

“...We appreciate power

I'll evade the human race, putting makeup on my face…”

You being you, the lyrics are frankly disturbing. At least that’s all you can think as you turn your back on the live band, broadcast via a hologram on the stage.

You take a drink from a passing waiter and walk up to the glass wall. The sight is magnificent from atop the central spire of the arcology, even obscured as it is now, possibly to diminish the sight of the fires and the approaching riot. As Ortega Explained, Halloween has a different meaning for the genecorps. They created superheroes and their worship. These parties are an occasion to dress up as their creations, bask in their glory, and the profits they bring. There are posters of all of GeniTechs’ sponsored heroes on the walls. Even with the dampeners online, you can almost feel the gigantic egos of everyone inside.

It’s easy to understand why won’t they just call off the party from up here. This whole building is a pharaonic monument to their vanity and pride, and they won’t let Psychopathor, the public or anyone else get in their way. They own the west coast and will prove their power to anyone who dares interfere. If there has to be a war, they have the guns, soldiers and the technology to win it. They will put the rabble back in their place, or at least that’s what they think will happen.

These people are loaded to a degree you hadn’t even considered could exist. Their impossibly expensive costumes are sometimes better than those worn by some actual heroes you’ve met. There is an Owl walking by that has a reactive armor piece that the original could never afford. You saw someone wearing your own hero persona in a skintight armored nanomesh that could have taken bullets as if they were candy. She scoffed at your own, by comparison, shoddy suit, leaving you with all manner of questions.

Are you the knockoff here?!

“Big party, huh?” someone says, holding a drink next to you. “First time to an event like this”

You turn to see The Void, drinking a colored shot next to you, only his lips visible with the mask partially pulled up.

“You too?” you say trying to strike a conversation, as you were taught to do. “I must confess, I’ve never seen a party like this before.”

“Well, I plan to see many more like this my friend,” he says with a mischievous soft smile. “Many, many more”

As he says that, you notice many things happening at once.

First, you hear Steel on your left ear, confirming a board member is in your vicinity, which means you should pull over. Before you manage a full step back from the glass wall and this man talking to you, you can feel your thoughts relaxing and the dampeners going down.

You expand your mind, ready to home in the GeniTech executive like a hornet… but instead realizing the man beside you is the real-

“Nath?!” you exclaim before bitting your tongue.

“Awan?” he says spilling his drink, glowing eyes on his mask fixated onto you in shock.

Neither of you even think, farm training actings on its own. Your hand reaches forward, trying to bend his arm backward, but knowing you’re better at judo he spins faster to avoid your grab. You took your chance and failed, and there’s no way to avoid the incoming kick that pushes you deeper into the crowd of fancy rich assholes playing armored heroes and villains.

A false Green Blast and Ophidian both curse ruining their looks, and by the time you get free of them, The Void has banished among the other costumes.

“Sidestep! Sidestep, come in?!” Steel’s voice in your ear becomes audible again. “We’ve got the executive! Hurry up”

“I… I just saw The Void,” you say

“What?!” Ortega’s voice floods the channel. “Mierda, who invited that asshole?”

“ I don’t know… He was just standing there and…”

The music goes on.

“Sidestep, are you ok? You’re looking drowsy” Ortega’s question lingers in your ears.

The room seems to be spinning with all these insane people’s minds clashing against your weak shields. You hold on to a tall table for a moment, trying to get the world back into focus.

“I’m ok. Void distracted me, and you know I have to prepare around crowds. These people’s egos are immense, taking it all in after the dampeners went off is too much… and the music’s not helping either.”

“Awan, can you still do this?” he asks

“Yes.” you say straightening up. “I’m ok. Just needed a moment, I’m fine now.”

“Ok… well then I say we go as planned... Everyone keep watch for The Void. We don’t know what’s he’s doing here and…”

The music, lights, and everything seems to go off at once, along with his communication.

Shit.

You’re not caught unaware this time and immediately switch to night vision. All the partygoers seem to be expecting something to happen. Maybe some sort of surprise?

“Use the secondary channel!” you hear Ortega’s voice again, and you quickly adjust, as everyone on the team asks what’s going on.

“Maybe it’s a surprise?” Sunstream asks “I hear these parties can go wild…”

“I don’t think so, this is all too much of a coincidence…” Sentinel says “Something is wrong, I can feel it and...”

The lights go back on, the crowd cheering as Reaper himself is now on stage, wearing his dark cloak, hood and trademark glowing spectral scythe in his left hand. Everybody loves a real legend like him, standing taller than life.

Still, the cheers die off rather quickly, as they follow his right arm, noticing that he is strangling GeniTech’s CEO with his skeletal fingers while his white skull cackles in a decidedly macabre and less than jovial tone. The scream of pain, the skin wrinkling, the hair going white, turning into a husk, a skeleton, and then finally breaking to pieces and disintegrating… It all seems far too realistic. A few people on the front row cough as they are bathed in handfuls of the floating dust, and everyone’s deathly silent by then.

“Sentinel dear, do you ever get tired of being so fucking right?” Elyise asks tiredly.

___________________________________________________

My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

The song is We Appreciate Power by Grimes, which of course I do not own.

#fallen hero: rebirth #amazing @Kruk-Art #Awan Cormac #Fanfiction #Fallen Hero Spoilers #Rangers

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girlsbtrs · 4 years

Text

Lia Menaker on her music, inspirations, and teaming up with Melanated Social Work

Written and edited by James N. Grey. Graphic by Moira Ashley.

Lia Menaker wants to support Black lives, specifically within the mental health sphere. So she donated the proceeds from her album, I am Kyrøs, toward ending the stigma around mental health in those communities. Girls Behind the Rock Show connected with her to get her perspective on her music, her identification with the cause, and how she feels it all ties together.

How did you find Melanated Social Work and how did you identify with their cause?

I actually know one of the founders personally, Marvin Toliver, so I’ve been following their social media and learning about the organization from him. We are talking a lot about police reform and the justice system now, which is great and important. But we often forget about the health component. And these guys, in their focus on the liberation of Black and Brown people, are working to end the stigma around mental health in Black and Brown communities, and working to make sure mental health professionals are truly culturally competent. I realized that they were the best place to dedicate my resources and time to.

What inspired you to donate your Bandcamp proceeds to them?

George Floyd was killed just weeks before my EP was set to release. And when the riots started, and the country started waking up to the level of police brutality threatening people of color, and the injustice of our institutions, it felt very strange to release the EP. The intersection of everything—COVID-19, the racial disparities and economic inequalities thus heightened, and the slew of unjust murders of POC—all became this giant traumatic thing our country was experiencing. I felt Black voices should be heightened, and in many ways, felt that it wasn't the right time to share the music. But on the other side of things, I also knew the world needed as much art as possible, of all kinds. Since the songs dealt with identity and the self, they could relate to what was going on in many ways.

I decided the best thing to do would be to release the music as planned, and in between the sharing and promoting of the album, to highlight as many Black voices and resources and information as possible. I wanted this to incorporate a donation and some awareness of solid Black-run organizations.

How has being Kyrøs allowed you to be more creative and free?

The word “kairos” is an ancient Greek concept referring to that perfect melding of space and time when it’s the opportune moment to act. It was a way of measuring time in moments (versus “kronos,” which was their concept for chronological time). When I came across the word, it felt like it described my change as an artist to a T. And once I took on the name, all that history that comes with one’s name—the feelings, memories, habits and obstacles that came with 30+ years of being “Lia Menaker”— dissolved. I think I subconsciously felt the freedom to try new things.

I started producing, and getting super creative on my live streams. I was improv-ing with no idea what I was doing, but it didn’t matter. I just kept doing it and didn’t feel the same self-judgment I’d had before. Approaching music with a sort of reckless abandon allowed me to be the best and boldest version of myself.

But what’s interesting is even the things that free you can start to take control of you. That high you get from being in such an open, creative space…you can only ride that wavelength for so long. At some point, you get stuck again, and you find yourself chasing that high. It can become an addiction, you know?

In a way, I ended up clinging to that identity of who I was when I was kyrøs, and I didn’t realize it until I was literally releasing the songs. It’s a big reason why it became the album name instead of my new artist name. I realized it was really more of an alter ego all along. That it didn’t replace Lia Menaker as an artist. So it turns out I was still learning lessons on identity as I was releasing the songs!

How did your childhood in theater and pop music inspire you?

While kids watched shows like Sesame Street and Barney, I was watching Annie, The Sound of Music, [and] Peter Pan… I was always drawn to it and felt like I could see myself in the characters. I begged my mom to do a musical at age 6 (Oliver), and then I was hooked doing musicals the rest of my childhood and most of my young adult life. So I think it felt like a language I understood, a form of expression I connected to on another level. There was always a story to the songs, an arc, [and] often, deep emotion and expressive vocals. I think the way I approach music—my soulfulness and the way I connect to it—comes from years of growing up with that. Also, I think a lot of my phrasing and how I articulate words comes from the musical theatre influence.

I think it was later in life that pop music began to really inspire me. Discovering Joni Mitchell was a huge one. Her incredible use of lyrics (in my opinion, she’s one of the lyrical greats and extremely underrated), and her 100% unabashed authenticity and womanliness was captivating. Her music is poetic, moody, unique—filled with so much complex emotion and story. Lyrically, I think my first album (Animal Behavior, in 2015) shows some of her influence on me. Especially the opening track, “Holding My Space.”

But pop aside, some of the great jazz vocalists were a big influence on me as well. It started with Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday. It was an easy segue because they sang a lot of Gershwin and musical theatre covers, but then I delved deeper into their work, and eventually found (and fell in love with) Nina Simone too. The raw, warm, raspy, bold voice filled with more soul and both joy and pain than I could imagine. And I always found that type of music so beautiful as a kid. I just found that part of people to be equally as beautiful as the lighter side, and found expressing pain through art to be the most incredible thing. So when I heard music that captured that, I think I was always intrigued.

What storylines in your 30's did you find that you were shucking off?

I had this limited view of myself my whole life as a singer/performer. Since I was 6 years old, that was my life: community theatre as a kid, studying musical theatre at Penn State, tours and regional theatre, then songwriting, music and singing in every fashion. It was the way I saw my value to the world, and I basically lived for my dreams and goals—this is how I saw whether or not I was successful. And the thought of not reaching them consumed me…

I always felt I wasn’t measuring up to whom I could be. This was a huge storyline I had to face: this idea of not being enough right now. And then it got me thinking about all this living in the ego… and “if I’m not my dreams, my goals, or even my job, what am I?” This inspired the song “Some Kind” because I realized if I wasn’t those things I most identified with, I was still me. A lot of the lyrics to that song express the storylines I grappled with, and also how I made sense of them: “We measure all that’s left with time - a calculated art. The things we do that give us pride, we hold up high as if it’s all that we are / All the stories give us meaning - keep us moving on… make it real. Run our choices, our bodies - keep us fused to what we feel.”

I would look back periodically at my life and think things like “What have I even done? My tour wasn’t successful enough, not enough people are listening to my music, I don’t make the money I should be making at this age, I’ll never amount to anything.” [I used] whatever metrics I thought would show me proof of a valuable life. I still struggle with them sometimes. Realizing the storylines is just the start. You have to keep checking yourself [and make sure] that you’re not caught up in them again. They were ingrained in my head for years, so it takes time to rewire the brain.

Ultimately, in my 30s, I’m finding so much more joy in the process and the creation itself, and trying to practice looking at what I have in my life as “enough.” The older I get, the more I see life passing quicker, and the more I just want to take it all in. To bask in love and music and the feeling of living with versus without. The 30s are a great time, because I think it’s the decade where a lot of us start to realize these things. Though, of course, some of us go our entire lives without feeling like we are, or we have enough. And new storylines will always be created, so we have to just keep checking ourselves. Especially when we’re all so obsessed with social media. Social media is literally a collection of storylines.

What inspired you to meld together eclectic sounds? Why a soulful, jazzy voice with a minimalistic background?

I’ve always loved warm, jazz vocals. As I mentioned earlier, I grew up engrossed in musical theatre, and that included a lot of standards by singers like Nina Simone, Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald. About four years ago, I also re-fell in love with Amy Winehouse and started really listening to her vocals and her style, pinpointing what it was that I loved so much. There’s a mix of this warmth and authenticity, but with a modern edge that just hits you in all the right places. So that’s what’s inspired my sound vocally.

But at the same time, I’m a big fan of using unconventional sounds and challenging people’s ears. A lot of what I’ve listened to over the past few years has strong electronic elements. SOHN is one I’m really drawn to, and he’s brilliant at the mix of pure/simple and unconventional. He has this way of putting a simple, soaring, haunting vocal over a backdrop of complex, evolving electronic elements. It’s a sound that you can’t produce with conventional instruments. When I first heard him, it blew my mind—it was like a spiritual experience, and I thought “I want to do THAT!” Susanne Sundfor’s Silicone Veil album was a big game changer for me too.

I loved the idea of marrying the two worlds—this classic, timeless feel with an electronic modern sound that reflects the times—to create something authentic to me and my influences. With so much of our world being digital now, it felt right to experiment with electronic elements. And when I started playing around with new software, and some samples, beats, and different gear, it just all slowly started to meld together into a sound that felt right.

What were some favorite ways that you experimented with sounds and techniques to achieve your sound? Anything that you might take over with you into the future?

A lot of the experimentation happened (and continues to happen) during my weekly live streams on Twitch (@liamenaker). It’s sort of the place where I have permission to work through songs, try stuff out, and honestly just have a lot of fun and engage with others during the creation process. The community there is also so incredibly supportive and open. The last song I wrote for the album, “Imprinted,” started out as some improv loops and just fooling around on my Twitch live stream: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xWjEAYAa7w. And I have at least four others waiting in the queue to finish that also began the same way. One of which I sent over to a jazz funk band in Paris to collaborate with me on. So I’ll definitely keep this as part of my approach.

Aside from that, my process is always changing, to be honest. So I’m trying to remain open to new techniques and approaches, and to keep allowing myself to be inspired by other artists and sounds. I’d like to explore more synth sounds and recording techniques, and just keep improving as an artist and producer as well. One thing I’ve noticed, too, is if I zero in too much on one writing approach or technique, I start to cling to it, relying on that as the way I “should” write everything. And then things just start to feel stale for me, or I run out of juice or hit a writer’s block. Then I find a new technique or gear or collaboration. I guess that’s why my approach keeps changing. We’ll see how long the current one sticks for, ha!

Which track on the EP is your favorite and why?

I think it keeps changing. But at the moment, the opening track "All My Life" is my favorite. I’m really connecting to the meditative and tribal nature of it, and I think the chorus is the catchiest of the songs. It has that "nobody's gonna bring me down!" feeling too, which feels extra relevant now, as many of us in the country feel like we're just pushing forward, doing everything we can to make things work during this difficult time.

I constantly imagine songs in other places: are there any movies/TV shows or any other places where you'd imagine your songs would play?

I can see some of these in crime and murder mystery-type shows. I’ve had people tell me “Imprinted” has a Twin Peaks or James Bond feel to it. So maybe a show or movie with a kind of slinky jazz lounge vibe. There’s definitely a meditative, tribal feel to some of the songs too, so I think they could work in a movie/TV show with that vibe. But honestly, I think less about music in terms of specific movies or TV shows, and more about fitting themes. So, for example, “All My Life” is perfect to capture that theme of being unstoppable, or a character finally going after their dream. “Stranger” would work well for a theme of not feeling like yourself or acting out of character. I think a lot of the songs on the album fit clear, universal themes, and so I’m hoping that I can find some success pitching these to music supervisors, production companies, etc.

For all us young'un's out there: How much of our identity is actually wrapped up in our dreams? Do you think it's important to separate our dreams, identity, and realities?

Uh oh… you’re going to get me on a soapbox, ha!

So I think it’s different for everyone, but I think it’s fair to say that for most of us, yes, our identity is either wrapped up in our dreams and/or in our work. Think about it. When we meet people, how often do we ask, “What do you do?” as if the answer will give us an accurate idea of who they really are. And how often do we judge people based on their careers?

But the truth is, achievements DO NOT define who you are, and do not define your worth, value, or potential. And while dreams can shape us, they can also limit us. They can keep us from seeing other sides of ourselves. And when we’re hyper focused on them, we miss out on so much beauty! I find the most memorable moments of life are actually quiet, behind the scenes, and not at all the result of working towards a dream or goal. [Goals] are not as great when they determine your ultimate view of yourself and control your amount of suffering.

I think I’m just realizing now too, that I hate the term “dream.” Dream sounds like an “all or nothing” approach. “Ideal” feels more flexible. For some reason, it feels healthier for me to look at it as “my ideal situation” version “my dream.”All around us, we’re being told we need to “dream big” and “you can do whatever you set your mind to” and “live up to your potential.” We love to dote on famous and rich people or take courses on how to be like them. Those who never “make it” (whatever that awful phrase even means) are looked at as failures, less successful, not as worthy or talented or smart. It’s. All. Bullshit. And the song on the EP “Imprinted” basically revolves around all of this.

So do I think it’s important to separate our dreams, identity, and realities? I think it’s probably unrealistic to try to. I think it’s all intertwined. Our dreams (or “ideal situation,” ha) will probably shape a bit of who we are (our identity). But I think the key is to understand [that] it’s a very small, ego-driven piece of who we are, and doesn’t ultimately define us. And I think it’s important to see our identities (and dreams for that matter) as constantly shifting. To, as one of my favorite spiritual teachers Pema Chödrön talks about, get comfortable with the fact that the ground beneath us is always shifting. I think it’s healthy to incorporate the stuff on the ego-level (dreams, identity) and the stuff underneath, the non-ego (that pure essence of who we are underneath the dreams, underneath the identity perceptions, underneath all judgments and experiences). Because while the stuff on the surface doesn’t define the essence of who we are, it’s still a reality that we take the train into work, or have to cook dinner for the kids, or need to make money to survive, right? These are still very real; they’re just not the full picture. And that’s the important part.

I think it’s especially important for the younger generations to pay attention to all of this in the age of social media. [Social media has] made understanding the truth of who we are and the idea of living in the non-ego so hard. Social media is all ego, storylines. I’m not saying it doesn’t have a lot of good aspects to it too. But it make[s] it very hard to feel and see the layers of a situation. Things are often black and white on social media, and we are sold specific messages on what it means to be successful and happy. It’s a system based on instant gratification (likes, comments, followers), and we have the tendency to add it up to calculate our value. If we’re not careful, it can drive us further from the whole truth, and deeper into the storylines.

Lia Menaker’s album I am Kyrøs is available now on https://liamenaker.bandcamp.com/.

All proceeds throughout the month of July benefit Melanated Social Work [https://www.instagram.com/melanatedsocialwork/?hl=en].

#james nida grey

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itsmyusualphannie · 5 years

Text

robot in the dorms

Title: robot in the dorms (ao3) Beta: kishere (@filiisaceaf) <3 Word Count: 5k Rating: T Warnings: Alcohol (a character is drunk at one point)

Summary: dan goes to university in florida and meets his roommate phil. after a few months, and despite dan's facade of disinterest, he begins to actually like phil and his nerdy ways. the robot that phil designs doesn't help. or: another "oh my god they were roommates" fic but COOLER because robot

Author Notes: this took me so long to write but i had SO much fun. i also wrote the scenes entirely out of order, which was even more fun. the only problem is that i now want a smol robot of my own

Bang! The door of the dorm room crashed shut behind Dan and he winced at the noise. His black suitcase thunked against his heels as he shuffled forward, glancing around the room. It was small but well-lit, with tall windows spanning the length of one wall and allowing a generous view of the campus outside. There were two beds, two dressers, and an ugly orange rug that made Dan’s eyes burn when he looked too long at it. Only one side of the room was bare, left empty for Dan to occupy.

The other occupant of the room had jolted when the door slammed, sitting up on his bed. Dan glanced at the paraphernalia sprawled across his new roommate’s bed and dresser.

“...Hi,” said Dan, after a too-long pause.

The other man had been regarding him with a smile. He hopped off the bed when Dan spoke. “Hello!” he said. His voice was bright, and notably very British. “You must be Dan!”

“Yep.” Dan trudged forward and hauled his suitcase onto the empty bed. “And you’re Phil.”

“I am!” Phil had moved closer when Dan turned around, his arm outstretched. Dan glanced down with bemusement at the hand that was being offered and shook it reluctantly. “Nice to meet you!” Phil continued. “It’s weird that they’d put both of us international students in the same room. You’d think they’d want us to be with someone who actually lives here in Florida so we’d learn more about it.”

Dan shrugged and shoved his released hand into his pocket, glancing over Phil’s shoulder at the posters adorning Phil’s side of the room. “Cool posters,” he said.

“Thanks,” said Phil automatically, then, “Oh, do you like video games?”

Dan tugged the zipper on his suitcase open and flipped the lid, revealing a PS4 with the cords wrapped tightly around it to conserve space. It was nestled between rolls of jeans and folded shirts. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Ooh.” Phil hovered behind him. “Nice, I have an Xbox. What are your favourite games?”

“Name one and I’ve probably played it.” Dan found himself, hesitantly, beginning to like this guy and his overabundance of enthusiasm. He glanced at the CD shoved into one of his suitcase’s many side pockets. “What...music do you like?”

“That’s a loaded question,” Phil said thoughtfully. “I like almost everything. I’d have to say my all-time top band is Muse, though.”

Dan felt a smile tugging at his lips. He turned back toward Phil, attention fully on his roommate. “Oh, yeah? That’s my favourite too.”

“You have good taste,” Phil informed him. “They’re a great band.”

Dan was smiling unhesitantly now. “Yeah. They are.”

“Yep.” Phil was grinning back at him.

This, thought Dan, this might turn out okay.

~~~

This is not okay, thought Dan, just as someone’s shoulder collided with his back and sent him stumbling into his dorm room. The door had been hanging open suspiciously, but he was grateful for it now since he’d avoided face-planting into it.

Someone screamed in the hallway and Dan cringed. The mass of bodies he’d had to push through in order to get to his room was...excessive. He had no idea what was happening out in the hall and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

“Oh, hey,” said Phil from his bed.

Dan stared at him dumbly. His roommate looked ridiculously comfortable and Dan was a little envious. He was sprawled across his bed, head dangling off the edge as he peered sideways at Dan, and legs propped up against the wall beside his bed

“...Hey,” said Dan.

“There’s a party going on, I think,” Phil offered. He had a textbook resting face-down on his chest.

“Oh. Cool.” It was not cool. It was only two weeks into the semester. Parties at this time were ridiculous.

Phil sighed deeply and turned back to his textbook, lifting it from his chest to peruse the crinkled pages. His head was lifted at an odd angle since there wasn’t anything to rest it on, and it suddenly looked incredibly uncomfortable. Dan watched him for a long moment, unblinking, then crossed the room to his own bed and sat heavily.

Another scream made its way into their room. Dan had not shut the door behind him, so he watched disinterestedly as two bare-chested, bellowing guys sprinted past with a flailing girl hoisted on their shoulders. More people milled around outside, their chatter indecipherable.

“Do you have any homework?” Phil asked. Dan could only see the top of his head now. There were tiny ginger strands invading the deep black of his hair.

“Always,” said Dan, although he found it entirely unfair that he should have so much work when he’d barely even started the semester.

Phil dropped the textbook onto his chest again and let his head fall back until his upside-down gaze met with Dan’s. “Want to join the riot?”

“Sure,” said Dan. Not really, he meant.

Phil tossed the textbook to the side and clambered off the bed, almost falling and braining himself against his dresser. Dan stared at his abandoned textbook as it toppled toward the edge of the bed but didn’t quite fall. It teetered ominously.

“Cool. Uh, do you drink?” asked Phil.

Dan didn’t look away from the precarious textbook. “Isn’t the drinking age different in America?”

“Well, yeah, but.” Phil shrugged, shoving his differently-socked feet into the discarded shoes by the door. “Pretty sure I saw someone lugging an actual barrel of alcohol past earlier, so I’m not sure it matters.”

Reluctantly, Dan stood as Phil waited for him by the door. “I dunno. Maybe.” Crossing the room, he pushed the textbook further onto Phil’s bed. He did not feel like the textbook appreciated his effort as much as it should have.

Phil headed out into the hallway and Dan followed him, navigating around a group of students sitting cross-legged in a circle on the floor. He didn’t know where Phil was going, but also wasn’t sure he cared to know. “Do you like parties?” he asked Phil’s back.

“Well, not really,” Phil said. Dan could barely hear him over the conversations going on around them. “But it’s part of the experience, right?”

Dan wasn’t entirely positive, but he shrugged anyway. Phil didn’t see it.

“Are you a party person?” Phil asked, glancing back over his shoulder. He almost collided with a couple making out against the wall.

It was really a ridiculous question. Dan didn’t think he had done anything at all over the past two weeks that would make Phil think he was a party person. A tiny snort escaped him, but when Phil raised a questioning eyebrow back at him, he just shook his head. “Not really,” he echoed Phil.

“I guess we’re both getting out of our comfort zones,” Phil said brightly.

Something squished under Dan’s foot. He squinted down at the floor, barely able to see it in the dim hallway lights, and realized he had stepped on a banana. Sighing heavily, he kicked it away. It slapped wetly against someone’s bare ankle. Dan hurriedly made his way after Phil, who was already a dozen paces down the hall. Someone squealed behind him, probably the person who’d just been assaulted by a banana peel.

“This looks like the life of the party,” said Phil when Dan had caught up to him. He was standing at the entrance to the common area, staring uncertainly at the chaos inside.

Dan blinked slowly at the room. There was a group attempting karaoke, their voices screeching painfully through the entire area; muscular jock types milling around a pool table, laughing uproariously and slapping each others’ backs; multiple people dangling on the couches, tables, and chairs around the room; and a dozen or so giggling in the corner with hands full of suspiciously-sloshing red plastic cups. A barrel was almost exactly in the centre of the room. A guy dressed only in tight boxer briefs and thigh-high socks bellowed “KEG STAND” and crashed into the barrel, but immediately three or four people who had been hovering around the barrel hauled him back to his feet.

“Well,” said Phil. “That looks...exciting.”

Someone vomited onto the pool table.

“I think I’ve had a great college party experience. My experience is...complete.” Dan took a long, slow step backwards.

“Yeeaah,” said Phil, dragging the word out. “Do you...want to go back to the dorm room and play Donkey Kong?”

“Yeah, let’s,” said Dan.

“Let’s.”

They did.

~~~

Two months later, Dan had no idea what made him want to go to college. He was tired literally all of the time. His eyes were so bleary when he stumbled into his dorm room that he didn’t see Phil at first. His mouth opened in a jaw-cracking yawn and he shoved backwards with his foot until it connected and the door swung shut. It was only after he carelessly tossed his backpack toward his bed that he saw Phil. One arm was sprawled across the desk as he slumped over it, fingers twitching as he dreamed. His glasses were crooked on his face and his mouth was open as he drooled a little drop of spittle onto the computer that his face was smashed into.

Dan should not have found it as attractive as he did. He sighed, rubbing at his eyes, and crossed the room to shake his roommate’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”

“Whuh,” mumbled Phil. He shuffled away from the touch, burying his face into the unforgiving plastic of his laptop case. The frame of his glasses screeched against it.

Wincing, Dan tried again. “Wake up, dork. You fell asleep working on your...robot thing again.”

“Huh!” With a start, Phil awoke, snorting in alarm. His arm flailed and something toppled off the desk, but he just yawned hugely and squinted around until his gaze fell upon Dan. “Oh. ‘G morning.”

“It’s afternoon,” said Dan. “I just got back from my second class.” He couldn’t look away from the glasses that were hanging lopsidedly from Phil’s nose. One side of the frame was drooping sadly halfway down his cheek.

Dan sighed and reached out to correct the placement, pushing the glasses back into their correct place. Phil just blinked dimly up at him.

“What’s today,” he said, voice hoarse with sleep.

“Wednesday?” said Dan, but it was more of a question. He wasn’t entirely sure, himself. The days all seemed to blur together, especially near the middle of the week when it was just class after assignment after class after test.

“Oh,” said Phil dumbly, and then, “Oh!” He turned frantically to his computer, fingers scrabbling at it for a few long moments before he yanked it open. Dan shamelessly glanced over his shoulder as Phil hurriedly opened his email and refreshed it. Phil ignored the multiple unread emails and opened one from a few weeks ago. He sighed deeply upon skimming over it.

“It’s not due until tomorrow night,” he said, clearly relieved.

“What’s not due? Oh, your project.”

“Yeah, but just the coding part. I can build the actual mechanical part later, and then audio will be due at midterms.” Phil shut the laptop. He scrubbed at his eyes and sighed. “I need coffee. I need to finish this, but I need coffee first. Want to go get some?”

Dan had already had about three coffees this morning, but what would one more hurt? He agreed, Phil shoved his computer into his backpack, Dan ignored his own bag and its loads of homework, and they set off towards the campus’ closest coffee shop.

They were regulars, and were both friendly to anyone who supplied them with caffeine, so the barista greeted them as soon as they walked inside.

“Hey, Bry,” Phil returned her greeting and headed toward their usual table in the corner to haul his computer out and set it up. Dan ordered their usual drinks, two caramel macchiatos, and then after a quick glance at the deep bags beneath Phil’s eyes, had two extra shots added to Phil’s. He examined his own fingers, then. They were trembling. He probably didn’t need the extra shots for himself.

“Thanks,” said Dan once Bryony handed him the drinks. He joined Phil at the table, but took his time walking over. It was disconcerting how good Phil looked, even sleepy and rumpled. “How much do you have left?”

Phil slurped loudly at his coffee before answering. “Too much. Can you get the - ?” He waved halfheartedly at his backpack sprawled beside him on the floor, and Dan obediently leaned over to dig in it and pull out what Phil was most likely referring to - a chunk of twisted metal with wheels and soldered antennae. It thunked solidly when he placed it on the wooden table next to Phil’s laptop.

Phil pet the ugly hunk, almost absentmindedly. Dan scowled down at the long pale fingers stroking the unfeeling lines of metal, wondering exactly how jealous he should feel. He took a sip of his own coffee. Maybe he did need the extra shots.

“It’s this code,” Phil groaned. He let go of the metal disaster and smashed the keyboard on his laptop, somehow managing to type something in the mess. “I’m trying to get it to perform actual functions and all it can do is drive around in circles.”

“That’s a function, isn’t it?”

“I mean. Yeah, but I want it to be unique. This isn’t…” Phil waved a hand at the innocent, hideous metal. “...I can’t even call it a robot.”

Dan didn’t know anything about electrical engineering, but he was fairly sure that it could be considered a robot. He gulped down a mouthful of macchiato instead of saying anything.

“I need...I need,” Phil muttered. He said something else inaudible, then took the lid off his coffee and buried his face in the opening, inhaling the steam.

Dan considered being concerned. “You can do it,” he said, but his tone was too flat to sound encouraging. He poked the robot thing. Its wheels squealed against the table as he pushed it toward Phil. “Robot says you can do it.”

“Robot is a liar,” Phil pulled away from his coffee inhalation just enough to inform Dan.

“Well,” said Dan. “I can’t inspire you. I only got up this morning for class because it was philosophy and I wanted to argue with the dumbass from yesterday who said Freud was a legend. Otherwise, I’d still be in bed and it’s…” He patted his pocket for his phone, and, not finding it, squinted at the screen of Phil’s laptop, “...it’s almost three.”

“What a life,” Phil said dully.

Dan patted the metal chunk. “You should just make it into an alarm clock. But like, one that attacks you if you don’t get up.”

“Huh,” Phil agreed unenthusiastically, and then, thoughtfully, “Huh.”

“I was joking,” Dan pointed out.

Phil set down his coffee. “Hmm,” he said.

“Hmm,” Dan repeated, but it reached tones of infinite suspicion. “Lester, don’t do it.”

Phil was already typing away at his laptop. “It’s a good idea,” he said. “It’s better than what I had. Which was...nothing.”

Sighing deeply, Dan sat back in his chair. Maybe he should just go with it. It couldn’t hurt anything, could it? Phil hadn’t been able to get the thing to do anything other than trundle in circles for almost a month, and his project was due the next day. Surely he would abandon it after he had to show it to his instructor.

Yeah, Dan would just go with it.

~~~

Dan had decidedly changed his mind after just one month.

“Phil!” he called, knowing that his roommate would be able to hear him over the sound of running water from their shared bathroom. He glared down at the tiny chunk of metal that had whirred across the room and attached itself to his foot as soon as he walked in the door. At first, it had been cute - but the “freely roaming the room” part was a problem. Although incredibly simple, the small robot zipped everywhere around the room and, despite Phil’s promises that it wouldn’t actually work as an alarm clock, had even climbed into Dan’s bed once. He had woken up to a chirruping metal blob on his chest, so naturally, he had screamed and thrown his blankets - along with the robot - onto the floor.

The water in the bathroom shut off. “What?” Phil yelled back.

The tiny antennae on the robot’s hulk swivelled. Dan frowned at it. He knew the thing didn’t have any cameras, but he still wasn’t sure how it heard anything or how it navigated. Phil claimed that it ran via solar power and soundwaves, but Dan had once seen it chug its way across the silent room at midnight to bury itself under a pile of socks.

The bathroom door opened, and Dan realized that he hadn’t replied to his roommate. He glanced up just as Phil stepped out, steam sweeping past him to humidify the dorm room. As usual, he was draped in far too many towels. Dan stared for a moment too long at the drops of water beading on Phil’s neck and creeping down his chest, and then he yanked his gaze away and flicked his foot to toss the metal creature across the room.

It squealed as it flew across the room, then landed lightly just beside Phil’s foot. A moment passed, and then it flipped over, whirring and chirping happily as it spun around Phil.

“Your little R2-D2 keeps attacking me,” said Dan, belatedly.

Phil scooped up his creation with careful fingers. Dan carefully ignored that his towels parted to reveal a very nice torso. “Don’t be mean,” Phil reprimanded. “He just likes you.”

“It’s an inanimate object,” Dan pointed out.

“He is very animated. And his name is Susan.”

Crossing the room, Dan hefted his backpack onto his bed. “You’ve decided that just now?”

“Yes,” said Phil emphatically.

The robot chirruped.

~~~

The dorm room was empty when Dan staggered inside. He almost slipped on a sock on the floor as he shut the door, so he cursed soundly at it. The cartoon penguins decorating it looked mournful as he kicked it to Phil’s side of the room. He dumped his backpack, heavy with the weight of textbooks, too many assignments, and stress, next to his dresser and then sat heavily on his bed.

He took a sip from the wine bottle in his right hand. The alcohol burned when it went down, warming his throat and stomach somewhat unpleasantly. Dan wasn’t entirely sure that it was actually wine.

Fucking Phil, he thought, and then repeated it out loud. “Fucking Phil.” He glanced around the room, making sure that Phil wasn’t actually there, then swallowed another mouthful of dubious alcohol. He had gotten it from the two guys down the hall that peddled suspicious goods, but nearly an hour had passed since then. Dan didn’t quite remember what he had done between then and now, and was almost certain that it wasn’t too important.

Lifting the wine bottle, he examined the contents inside. There was nothing floating inside at least, he noted, but there couldn’t be more than another sip or two left.

He took care of the rest of the alcohol in two swift gulps, then thought for a few long moments and heaved himself backwards to shove the empty bottle between his mattress and the wall. It wouldn’t do for an untimely random room check to find evidence of his sporadic lapse of judgement. It was just… “Fucking Phil,” he repeated. The words felt right on his tongue. “Fucking...Phil.” He laughed then, a helpless giggle, and slapped a hand over his mouth. He wished.

Dan let himself topple sideways on his bed, then hauled his feet up to the bedspread. His mind felt bubbly.

“Wooo,” said something from the floor.

Dan definitely did not squeal. He did not flail and kick one foot into the wall. His toe did not hurt.

Another minute passed before he regained his composure and managed to peer over the side of his bed to the floor.

Phil’s robot sat on the ugly orange rug, antennae pointed directly up at him and tiny sensors whirring indistinctly. It chirped at him, undeterred by Dan’s fragrant breath wafting down toward it.

“Oh,” said Dan. “Hi, Susan.”

Susan whistled in reply. Dan was about 96% positive that Phil had illegally downloaded clips of R2-D2’s sounds and used it for his pet project. The noises were extremely similar, in any case. Dan managed to pull his arm from where it had ended up beneath his stomach - though he didn’t quite know how it had gotten there - and reached down to pick up the robot. He brought it very close to his face to examine it, and one of its bristling wires stroked his nose.

He sneezed and put it on his pillow. It chirruped cheerfully.

“You look...cool.” Dan squinted at Susan. “You look...like you’re missing something.”

“Vroo?” said the robot.

Dan nodded confidently. His head drooped and he slowly let it fall until his forehead rested against the blankets, and there he blinked rather slowly at the indistinguishable blurs beneath him. “Yes,” he said, and then shoved himself upright.

It took him more than a few minutes to drag himself off the bed to dig through one of his dresser drawers and find what he was looking for. He managed to successfully sit back on the bed, but couldn’t quite get one leg all the way up, so he just let it dangle off the side. He piled the handful of items he had collected next to the pillow, where Susan was still patiently waiting.

“You are a cool robot,” he informed Susan. “But you are missing a thing. And that is an eyeball.” He procured the plastic googly eyeball with a flourish, although the flourish nearly broke his hand when he thudded it against the wall. “Ow,” he said.

The robot did not argue as Dan, very slowly and carefully, applied a few drops of glue to the back of the plastic eyeball. He may have gotten a bit on his fingers, but he wiped them off on his jeans. It wouldn’t hurt, surely.

“Here,” said Dan, and affixed the eyeball directly above one of Susan’s tiny whirring wheels. The fake pupil wobbled as the robot tipped on the pillow. Dan regarded it with great approval, and then he applied the other eyeball to the opposite side of the robot.

“Weeooo,” said Susan.

Dan sighed and stroked its delicate frame. “You’re such a good boy, Susan.”

Susan purred. It may have just been the motor running, but Dan preferred to believe that it agreed with him.

Dan sighed again, very heavily. “Fucking Phil,” he said ruefully.

The robot made a low, compassionate noise. Dan stared into the fake eyes he had attached. They contained so much emotion.

He felt himself tear up. “Why are you so perfect,” he mourned. “With your...stupid smarts and your stupid perfection. Stupid pretty eyes. Stupid hair.”

“Beoop?” questioned Susan.

Dan groaned and slumped sideways to lean against the wall. It was not as comfortable as his pillow would be, but since Susan was currently residing on it he decided to suffer for the moment. At least then his physical torment would match the emotions he felt. “Fine, not you,” he told Susan. “It’s fucking Phil. He’s. Too much.”

Susan beeped sadly.

“I know, right?” Dan commiserated dolefully. “It’s just...you know?”

Susan’s fake eyes peered up at him, clearly unknowing.

Dan carefully placed a forefinger in front of Susan’s tiny speakers. “Shh. Don’t tell anyone, but...I’m a little drunk. And sad. And…” he sighed, again, “...I like Phil. So, so much.”

“Vrooo,” said the little robot.

“Do you think he would date me if I was a robot,” asked Dan.

Susan, very unhelpfully, did not respond.

Dan heaved a breath and painstakingly squeezed himself next to the robot to lie down. He stared wide-eyed at the delicate chunk of metal only an inch from his face. “You have beautiful eyes,” he told Susan, and then he fell asleep.

~~~

Dan woke up with a start when the door to the dorm room slammed shut. He jolted upright, squinting blearily toward the source of the noise. It took him a few moments, but then he was able to make out the figure standing by the door. It was Phil.

“Ungh,” said Dan, and flopped back down. His head spun, a distant memory of his drunken adventures the night before. He half-heartedly attempted to remember what he had done, but the memories were too vague to recall anything other than stumbling to his bed. He might have...talked to Phil’s robot?

“Um,” said Phil, still standing by the door. “Dan.”

With a searing bolt of clarity, Dan remembered that he had glued fake eyeballs to Phil’s robot last night. Phil’s midterms were today, which meant that part of his project had been due today, which meant that...Dan had probably ruined it. He cast desperately back into his uncertain memories, but he couldn’t remember exactly which part of the project was due.

“Fuck,” Dan said, and then, in a moment of maturity, hauled his blanket over his head to hide from Phil’s gaze. His hand was stuck to part of the fabric where he had attempted to wipe off the glue last night.

“Dan,” said Phil.

Dan was silent for a very long moment, and then he groaned quietly. “I’m so sorry, shit. I didn’t mean to do it, I was drunk.”

“You didn’t mean to do what?” asked Phil, but his tone sounded somewhat uncertain. Dan was almost tempted to pull the blanket off and look at him.

“I ruined your project, didn’t I? The fucking...eyeball things.”

“What?” Phil seemed confused now. “Oh, no, I wasn’t showing the actual robot today, the complete project is due at the end of the term. I think the googly eyes are cute, actually. They make Susan look friendlier.”

“Oh,” said Dan. His voice was muffled by the blankets. He blinked slowly in the darkness he had inflicted upon himself. “Okay. Uh...what’s up, then?” he tried, then cringed at himself.

Phil cleared his throat. “Well, um. The audio part was due today. You were super asleep earlier, so you probably didn’t hear me come in, go to sleep, then get Susan this morning and take him to the computer labs to...uh...compile the audio he’s been recording over the past few weeks for my project.”

“You...what?” Dan frowned up toward the ceiling - at least, he thought it was up toward the ceiling. He couldn’t really see where it was.

“Yeah, I told you before I started the recording. And you said it’d be fine if I recorded everything, as long as I cut out anything embarrassing. But I left it until the last minute so I had to do it all this morning before my mid-finals today. Anyway, I was just going to compile a one-hour block of random bits of audio from everything he’s recorded.” There was a shuffling noise. Phil shifting from foot to foot or moving closer, maybe. He was rambling. “But...well, he was recording last night. And I didn’t mean to invade your privacy or anything! I was just trying to find bits of audio - stuff that didn’t mean anything, just words or sounds out of order.”

“It recorded me...last night,” Dan repeated. “While I was drunk.”

“Um, yeah - ”

“And you listened to it.”

“...Yes, but - !”

“Nope.” Dan rolled over and smashed his face into his pillow. He had a very vague idea of what he had confessed to the robot last night, but he didn’t want confirmation of it. He didn’t want Phil to gently let him down in his Phil way that would make it impossible to be upset at him. At this moment, in fact, Dan didn’t want Phil to speak to him ever again.

Phil sounded cautious when he next spoke. “Do you...remember what you said?”

“Nmhphp,” said Dan into his pillow. His hand was still stuck to the blanket.

The mattress dipped beside Dan as Phil sat down on the bed. “Did you mean what you said?” he asked quietly.

“I was drunk,” Dan said weakly.

A feather-light touch trailed across his back. He shivered under the blanket. Even with the layers of material between him and Phil, he could still feel the heat of Phil’s hand. It burned him, branding him in place with the weight of his spoken confession that he never thought Phil would hear.

“Yeah,” he said.

Susan beeped from somewhere in the room, a cheerful sound that broke the heavy silence after Dan’s single word faded away.

Dan could feel Phil’s fingers tightening on the blanket, and then the comforting material was pulled away from him. The pillow was warm against his face where he was still buried into it.

“Dan,” said Phil, and so Dan rolled over, finally, to look at him.

Phil was smiling.

Dan thought bizarrely that the crinkles at the corner of Phil’s eyes were simply too deep to possibly exist. He wanted to press his fingers into them and make the smile on Phil’s lips grow even wider. He wanted to turn back around and hide from the brilliance of the expression.

“Idiot,” Phil said, unbearably fond. “I like you too.”

Dan just blinked slowly up at him.

“Want to go get coffee?” Phil asked. Still grinning, he brushed a thumb under Dan’s eye. Dan hadn’t realized a tear had escaped.

“Yeah,” he said again, and caught Phil’s hand in his, and a smile crept across his face to match Phil’s.

They stood and they left to get coffee, beaming at each other with enamoured expressions the entire way.

Susan whistled after them, then drove up the side of the bedspread onto Dan’s bed and perched on Dan’s pillow, its googly eyes spinning madly. It chirruped in a way that sounded like laughter.

“You’re such a good boy, Susan,” it said in Dan’s voice.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #phanfic au #roommates au #college/university au #oh my god they were roommates #robots au #phandom fic fests bingo 2019 #phandom bingo 2019 #angst #fluff

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undertaleartistshit · 4 years

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A Little Big Dance

As Ink searched the AUs of his Multiverse for trouble, he came across a little rumor. Well, actually it was a HUGE rumor, one that exploded in the millions of AUs seemingly overnight. Ink was interested, not only because the rumor was of a concert, but because of the person hosting it. Some strange being from another Multiverse, and that was where the rumor seemed to get unstable. No name, no description, no age, no nothing. Just someone.

He entered the Omega Timeline, despite his hatred for white, but instead of focusing on that accursed color, he couldn't help but listen to the gossip and pause, amazed at how consistent the information was. He shook his head, continuing his search for the one being who could help him figure out maybe a sliver of information that was 100% true, not just the unreliable gossip he would have to sift through without them. He passed Sans after Frisk after Papyrus after King and Queen, but he just could not find that damned-

Oh. There they were. The gray and black child was standing in a crowd of shouting and... angry, Ink decided, monsters and humans. They didn't chant any mantras as one would expect, but they all were shouting something. Ink took his time winding through the aggressive group, taking care not to hurt anyone despite having to shove his way into the center. "O-oh, thank the HEAVENS you're here Ink!" Core gasped, their hollow eyes creasing in utter relief as Ink popped into the small circle Core was trapped in. Ink smiled, happy to see Core.

"Yeah, well I'm glad I found you, because as life has it I've got a question." Some people where daring to try to yank Ink away from Core, to which Ink slapped their hands and claws away, glaring threateningly at them, to which they sourly shouted and yelled in response. "Ok, nevermind, three questions. Three." Ink raised his voice a little, doubting Core could hear him if he were to speak normally.

Core smiled patiently. "Alright. Could you take care of my little, um, predicament first?" Ink chuckled, unsheathing his handy dandy brush, making a portal in front of them. Core jumped in first, Ink following them, closing the portal before any ticked people managed to stampede on over in the AU. Speaking of which, it was the beloved OuterTale, one of the more popular AUs among the Multiverse. Ink could understand as to why though, since OuterTale was beautiful and calming. Core sighed, sitting down on the small floating island rock. Ink sat down beside them, his eye lights flickering with relief and curiosity.

"First question, what the heck was their problem?" Ink asked, genuinely sounding frustrated for once, albeit mildly. Core sighed yet again, cupping their forehead in their small hands, looking and sounding defeated. "Because of a rumor that I have been looking into, that group is particularly angry with the fact that we are just letting someone in our Multiverse that we don't even know for a concert we can't be sure even exists. I'm feeling... impatient, and I hate it," Core explained.

Ink was surprised yet again. Core, one of the most patient people Ink has ever met, was getting impatient now. All because of some concert. Ink couldn't lie, he wanted to go to that concert if it really existed, but he didn't know if it was dangerous, and he knew nothing about the other Multiverse that this proclaimed person is said to have originated.

Ink took a deep breath, looked over at Core, and asked sternly, almost barking out an order. "Can you get me all information about this concert and deliver it to the HQ tomorrow?" Core nodded, sensing the order. "I'll get it done in a giffy."

"Core. Since when did you not get a panic attack after being in a crowd for so long?"

~~~[]~~~

Dream heard about the rumor from DanceTale. As far as music and culture went, DanceTale was Dream's favorite place to be if he wanted to escape the stresses of being a "Star Sans". However it seemed that this time there was a new pressure, one huge thing taking the place by storm. What caught Dream's attention at first and even now was the sheer volume of people talking about the concert. Dream had to ask, what was the big deal? Why in the stars were to many people wanting to go?

He jogged over to this universe's Sans, who was stretching for what seemed like training. "heya dream," he greeted, smiling at the positive aura. Dream grinned, "Nice to see you Dance. I have a question, if that's not too much to ask." Dance chuckled at the most likely unintentional and stupid pun, but replied, "shoot for it dude."

"What can you tell me about this multiversal concert? I'm afraid I'm terribly uninformed, haha." Dream smiled patiently, awaiting an answer as Dance took a moment to think. Dance tapped his jaw in thought. "the only thing that i can say for sure is that whatever this is is hosted by someone not from this multiverse. no idea who though. maybe ink can tell you more?" Dream thought for a moment, dumbfounded in a way. How could Dream forget? Ink was probably all over it by now! "Oh my stars Dance, I can't believe I never thought of that before! I'll ask him right away! Thanks for the pointer, I owe ya one." Dance chuckled as Dream jumped away into another AU. Dance blushed mildly. Dream was so amazing, so positive. He'd never remember a copy like Dance for long, never in a milennia.

Dance went back to stretching, turning on the radio. People talking about the concert left and right, gossip and rumors running rampant. Dance wanted nothing more than a solid time and place, but no one talked about that. No one.

Dream landed in OuterTale, of course. Either Ink was here or in the Doodle Sphere. He never went into the Omega Timeline unless there was an emergency, and if there was an emergency he would have called Dream and Blue. But the was no call, not a word from Ink. He wouldn't risk panicking in public, right..?

Well, whatever the case, Dream found Ink talking to... Core Frisk... on a remote island in the middle of nowhere. Dream didn't like Core all that much, although he'd never admit it. It unnerves Dream that he can never sense any emotion coming from the little human, which both annoys him and worries him. Were they bottling it up or could they even feel? Why do they look like they should feel hollow? Do they feel hollow? So many questions ran through Dream's skull every time he saw Core.

Nonetheless, Dream ushered over to them, in hearing range as he heard a sentence come from Ink, who was facing away from Dream. "Since when did you not get a panic attack after being in a crowd for so long?" Dream froze, ducking behind a large boulder. What? Panic attack? Did Core have claustrophobia or haphephobia or something? Why would they-

"And why didn't you freak out after being in a place that's practically only white?" Core shot back, sounding uncharacteristic. Dream flinched. Did they go in the AntiVoid? No, there are no crowds there. The Omega Timeline? But Ink didn't call the others... didn't call Dream.

"Well in my defense I was a little preoccupied with that rumor. It's interesting but I'm worried and I don't want anyone to go just in case it's a trap plus I don't know when or where it's supposed to be-" "You're rambling." "Sorry, but you get me right?" Core nodded. "The Protector's job, I know. I think the consert will be a good idea though, you need to unwind with people, not just drawing." Ink flustered at that, feeling embarrassed about drawing, plus Core mentioning it. "Yeah yeah..."

"But it's not just about me," Ink sighed. "If the Dark Sanses go there and start a riot..." Dream blinked, suddenly feeling guilty. How could he have forgotten that? Dream suddenly became aware of the strong negative emotions coming from not only himself, but from the two in front of him. It hurt, and he couldn't just ignore it like normal. Ink was stressed and worried out of his mind, Core was... Dream paused in realization. He could sense Core! His demeanor immediately improved, reducing the pain.

"Funny how someone's pain could make the God of Positivity feel so good," a baritone voice chuckled in the space. Ink and Core froze, Dream brandished his bow and arrow, ready for an attack, still hidden from Ink's view. Damn you Nightmare! Dream growled in his mind.

"God of... DREAM WHAT THE FREAK." Ink's voice went from mildly confused to surprisingly ticked real fast. Dream jumped out from his cover, sliding over to Ink, who was now standing protectively over Core with his brush in hand. Dream scowled. "I'll explain later," he mumbled. "You'd better."

Nightmare materialized right before their eyes, from a shadow of course. The tall goopy skeleton walked leisurely over to the small group. His eye was devoid of emotion as always, his posture relaxed and nonthreatening if it weren't for the long powerful tentacles twitching on his back. The King of Negativity stood about two meters away, showing no signs of aggression, but no sign of backing down. His grin was as sharp and as cruel as ever.

"Go back to where you came, Nightmare," Ink hissed, his eye lights flaring in a dangerous maroon. Nightmare put his clawed phalanges up, as if he were caught by the nonexistent police force. "Hey, hey, chill. Just need to ask a favor." Dream glared, but Ink had to hold in a fit of laughter. "Why would we help?" Nightmare shrugged, putting his hands back in his pockets. "I heard a little rumor, and I want more info."

Ink rolled his eyes, not buying the story. "Why does this even concern you?" Ink jabbed, getting angry and hoping to make Nightmare uncomfortable. It... didn't work. Nightmare fed off of the negative energy, cocking a brow. "Uh... rude? I just wanna know." Dream sighed, letting in. Why oh why was he so weak when it came to his brother?

"We don't know much, just about the concert and nothing much else," Dream answered truthfully. Ink stared daggers at Dream, as he growled, "Dream.." Dream put his bow and arrow away, looking back at Ink, and replied with a sassy monotone nod, "Ink."

Nightmare rolled his eye light at the display. It was familiar, but he'd never admit it. His gang made similar interactions, quite often. But it was a confirmation that Dream released some true information, at least. Nightmare opened a portal, to which Killer and Cross came out, carrying...

"BLUE!" Ink and Dream shouted simultaneously. Killer glanced at the two, stating, "Attack us and we won't hesitate to kill Blue." Ink huffed, as Core whispered something to Ink. Ink nodded, making a portal and then sticking his brush back on his back. Core jumped in the portal and disappeared.

Killer and Cross untied Blue quickly, starting to get uncomfortable being around all three Star Sanses at once. Blue gasped as they undid the rope around his mouth. "You could have made it a bit looser!" Killer smirked, chuckling. "And risk you getting out? Fat fucking chance." Killer took out his knife, to which Ink had to resist the urge to smash Killer's skull in the ground, and Killer cut the rest of the rope off. Blue stood up, brushing himself off. He walked cautiously back over to Ink and Dream, to which Ink just stared open mouthed at the three Dark Sanses. "Why did you kidnap Blue if you didn't even threaten us?!" Ink screeched.

Nightmare grinned. "Backup plan." All six went back to their respective HQs. And Core? They were scribbling every rumor down, in every timeline, trying to find a constant or a source, and it would take a long time before either side would find much else out about this concert and it's host. Or, as the constant says, the hostess.

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clown-bait · 5 years

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Monster Family (Monster Roommate AU) Ch4

Pennywise agrees to hang out with his mate and gets LIT in an Applebees. Believe it or not this chapter is semi based on personal experience. I'll let everyone decide what part that might be.

CH4 LIT

“Oh great she brought the ball and chain.” Freddy groaned as his friend walked through the doors of the only with a bar in town the three of them weren't banned from. Trailing behind her a very uncomfortable Robert Gray groaned in annoyance when he realized they were in a family restaurant.

“Peachy there are children here!” he hissed in annoyance as the scent of delicious screaming baby assaulted his nose from the dining area.

“If I can control my self in an arcade full of street fighter virgins you can handle being in an Applebees for a couple hours. Besides we can't go to any regular bars since we have to pass Chucky off as Freddy’s kid.”

Pennywise huffed in annoyance at the mention of his tenant. “Then we could do this at our own home. You cant even partake in this anyway.” he grumbled

“Pen the point of going out is that it prevents me from getting stir crazy and doing something to piss you off again out of boredom. You better get used to atmospheres like this anyway with kids on the way.”

“I won't be bringing them to cesspits of noise and grease such as this.”

“Then you're sure in for a surprise Jingles havin’ kids is just traveling from one cesspit to another!” Chucky laughed in his booster seat while pouring another colorful mixed drink into his sippy cup.

“The fact that you've gone this far for entertainment is pathetic.” the eldritch spat as his tennant flipped him off. “Does your wife know you've started stooping so low as to play baby just to enjoy a night out?”

“Does your’s know you've been sniffin’ her panties while she’s at work like a creep?”

Leech deadpanned as she sat down “Hi Chuck I’m literally right here, also Pen that's gross.”

“Says the woman who fucked a spider.” Pennywise grunted as he tested one of the colorful drinks on the table.

Freddy groaned and took a deep drink “Aaaaand this is why we don't let you bring him.”

“Yeah Fred you're one to talk, pretty sure this whole Chris rebound thing you're going through has led to some weird rendezvous. The Bye-Bye Man comes to mind-” the vampire sneered and a clawed hand was shoved across her face.

“SHH don’t fucking say his name! Fuck now he’s gonna find me and ask why I haven’t called.”

Leech continued to tease the dream demon as her disguised clown began his second "hurricane". At least the drinks were sweet and he was able to quell some of the hunger within him with the sugary alcoholic beverages. Leech glanced over at her mate noticing the nearly empty glass.

"Woah slow down there tiger I know you’re large but that's gonna hit you fast"

"Peachy Pie I’m not human do not worry for me. Instead continue insulting Krueger I was enjoying that."

"You're my ride home you better be able to teleport while drunk."

"I’m fiiinneee"

"That response alone is suddenly filling me with so many regrets." she groaned.

"Lighten up Fangs they water the drinks down anyway." Freddy rolled his eyes and flagged down their waitress for another round of drinks. Robert let out a loud hiccup and giggled as Chucky silently observed with interest. Several moments later the eldritch began to sway slightly, barely hearing the conversation anymore and instead letting a literal wandering eye drift around the room hungrily resting on potential targets.

"Jingles is drunk" Freddy nonchalantly grunted.

"Are you shitting me?" Leech growled and glanced over to her mate who seemed normal until he turned to her his cheek split open at the side revealing a fang filled maw underneath.

"Yeess?" the eldritch attempted a suave look on his out of control face and tapped too many fingers over his chin as his hooded eyes drifted apart.

"Jesus fuck Pen control yourself."

"Im aaaaallways in control darling." He purred getting all the way into her personal space as drool fell from from his lips and onto her shirt.

"Oh my god its like owning a fucking mastiff with you sometimes." Leech groaned and playfully shoved him away despite his persistent growls and chitters against her skin. “Put the teeth away honey you're in public”

“Get a damn room.” Chucky yelled and the eldritch's head snapped in his direction roaring horribly in annoyance.

“Fangs uh he's really becoming a problem someone is gonna notice this.”

“Its weird that he got fucked up so fast, he only had two watered down drinks.” Chucky said as he studied the disguised clown.

“You're right give me your water” Leech hastily grabbed the clear liquid in front of the dream demon and tipped it against her mate’s lips. Freddy moved to stop her but stopped when Robert Gray’s face opened unnaturally wide to dump the liquid down in one gulp.

“FANGS! That was pure vodka.” Freddy yelled.

“Why the FUCK do you have a cup full of vodka?”

“Why the fuck not?” he growled and popped a small chocolate into his mouth. The eldritch stopped his swaying and stitched his face back together the room becoming much more clear as his eyes aligned once more.

“Who tried to poison me?” Robert groaned rubbing his temples completely sober. Freddy and Leech both stared at him dumbfounded. “HOW?!” they both shouted. Robert cocked an eyebrow.

“Belief.” he said simply and plucked a chocolate from Freddy's hand plopping it into his mouth. “I function on belief and imagination. I am serious about the poisoning which of you was it?”

“So what you're telling me is if I believe that apple juice could make you shitfaced it’ll happen.” Chucky smirked.

Robert sighed in annoyance knowing his three companions well enough now that his question will never be answered. “In a way yes.”

“Don't even try it Chuck.” Leech snarled but stopped when she felt her mate’s hand on her shoulder.

“Tricks will not work he has to absolutely believe it will happen.”

Freddy finally spoke up waving a gloved hand to get their attention “Uh guys….What happens if I believed that there were some pretty interesting party drugs in that candy.”

The vampire and the eldritch both froze.

“Please tell me you didn't.” Leech grabbed her friends stripped sweater

“I did.”

Chucky sighed and took a long sip of his drink “We’re gonna get banned from fucking Applebees.”

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

Pennywise had blinked and suddenly he was no longer at the restaurant. There was music that was loud and pulsing and sweaty bodies bumped into him from all sides. How did he get here? His limbs felt like jelly and he was holding some type of weird blue beverage. He took a large gulp of it to sooth the dryness in his throat and made his way back to the red lights that must be the bar. Despite being disoriented he did feel good, giggly even. He hadn't even realized his human disguise was part-way to “clown mode”, his face baring his trademark makeup, but he did notice that the other people around him were dancing he should probably as well. He needed to blend in after all. So he began to sway and move to the music leaping through the air dramatically like an acrobat. It felt like a full 27 years had passed as he performed but if he stopped the illusion would be ruined. Thus he had to keep dancing. As he swayed and stumbled in euphoria he bumped into the first face he had recognized in this new location who nearly fell from the weight of the cross faded eldritch colliding with his spindly frame. “Holy shit Jingles there you are!”

“Krueger!” the clown nearly shouted and pirouetted with the grace of a ballet dancer.

“Have you been drinking more?”

“I found a pretty blue drink on a tray! Pretty and sweet!”

“You're a riot Jingles.” the dream demon laughed “Who'd have thought you'd have it in you to steal drinks.”

More of the clown's human disguise melted and he giggled uncontrollably grabbing the dream demon into a back breaking hug.

“Pennywise is glad to see you my friend yes he iss! I was so lost in this strange new place!”

“This is the cenobites nightclub idiot also put me down jesus!”

“Mmmm but you are warm and small!”

“Save it for your girlfriend bozo.” Freddy shoved his tall drugged companion back and straightened himself.

“Peachy!? She's here?"

"Man you really are messed up. She's the one who dragged your ass here after you nearly mauled someone at Applebees. Said it was my fault and put me on babysitting duty."

The clown dramatically tapped his wet chin then grinned wide with an idea

"Krueger I wish to dance with my mate fetch her for me!" He growled puffing out his chest in a display of cockiness.

"What do I look like your servant?"

"........are you not?"

"Fetch your own woman.” Freddy grunted and left deciding the nosferatu could deal with her beloved man child herself.

-------

Leech sat in a private room her housemate in a stolen booster seat beside her chains hung from the ceiling as a high stakes poker game took place below. The vampire ripped off her sunglasses in annoyance.

"Seriously Pinhead turn some fucking lights on in here."

"You are the one insisting on wearing eye protection indoors."

"Its a bluffing tactic!"

"Fangs no one actually wears sun glasses outside league games except for assholes like you and Krueger."

The nosferatu snarled and ripped her glasses off. "If I lose I'm blaming all of you."

"Learn to lie better trashpire. I fold." Chucky sat back in his booster seat taking a drag off a joint much to Leech's annoyance.

"You've been folding a lot. Also Chuck, pregnant stop smoking."

"Fangs we're playing against a goat and a guy with no eyebrows. I don't think either of them has ever made an expression other than neutral in their immortal lives." The doll grumbled snuffing the joint out and putting it back in his front pocket. He turned to the growing bump under his friends shirt "Take note kids uncle Chucky is doing this for you now so you wont eat me later."

Leech rolled her eyes at him "I raise."

"You have nothing left to bet idiot." The doll shouted and Pinhead smiled at his cloven hooved companion.

"Nothing physical."

The vampire cocked her eyebrow with interest a low purr formed in her throat "Are we raising the stakes?"

"Fangs, Jingles will kill me if-" the doll was cut off quickly by a cold pale hand to his mouth.

"Quiet Chatty Cathy. Continue."

"I have a very lovely crock pot, stainless steel 4 different settings, no stick. All you have to wager is a simple IOU." The dark furred goat hissed into the air like a whisper.

"Why the hell would a vampire need a crock-"

"DEAL!" Leech slammed her fist on the table fangs gleaming in her wide smile. Chucky gasped like a fish in protest. The large black goat let out a horrible guttural hiss.

"Shake her hand hell priest and the game will continue."

"Sire I believe that crock-pot was the one you borrowed from me-"

"SHAKE HER HAND"

Leech grabbed Pinhead's hand before anything else could be said. "You have no idea how much blood pudding I'm going to make with that thing."

"Well this definitely won't come bite all of us in the ass later." Chucky sighed and slumped back in his booster seat.

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

Pennywise felt amazing. Lights flashed all around him as people brushed against him from all sides. Normally this would repulse him but tonight touch felt good and the loud noise vibrated his form's bones making his muscles tingle. A woman touched his arm and his skin melted from the feeling. Why was he here again? Someone he was looking for, someone he actually liked. Then there she was, in her messy platinum wig bobbing in the ebb and flow of the dance floor. He felt his body tingle with excitement and he pushed other monstrous creatures out of his way to get to his precious queen. "Hiya gorgeous~" he purred his usual greeting to her and pulled her to him kissing her deeply. He felt like the most romantic suave person in the room and Leech felt amazing against him. Her lips were warm and soft she smelled of fresh flowers sending tingles up his spine. Then the moment was broken when a voice that definitely was not his mate's came out of her mouth and the intoxicated Pennywise realized the person he just passionately kissed was not the mother of his children. He realized it a second time when an icy cold claw pulled him back and broke his cherry red nose.

I think he might be in trouble.

#pennywise #pennywise x oc #pennywise fanfiction #horror fanfiction #freddy krueger #chucky #Charles Lee Ray #pinhead #slasher fanfiction #it fanfiction #monster roommate au

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neoblogcrying · 5 years

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“Let’s play a game” pt.2

Yeah… I ended up writing the next part a lot sooner than expected because I had a lot going on today—and I wanted to write to vent my stress out. I didn’t have the mood to write anything else so here we are! Hope you enjoy the read!

The System Temp chose ‘HARD MODE’ and this was met with high praise, from System moderator #1. The other moderators were not as happy.

You win some, and you lose some.

“System Temp, be on standby.” A mechanical voice sounded overhead. A light illuminated down, onto a couch that was situated in front of a big Television screen. The couch was soft and plush to the touch with colorful, fluffy pillows.

Elevator music started playing in the background as distant sounds of people talking could be heard over the music. Perhaps the music was being played to drown out the conversation between the System moderators. It was hard to make out any words, but there were a few words that stood out:

‘Anoying,’ ‘Troublesome,’ ‘Scum,’ ‘So pitiful,’ and ‘So complicated.’

The Television screen was dark as it wasn’t powered on. Most likely, it would turn on the moment they finished…doing whatever it was that they were doing.

KEEEEN!

That was the sound of an intercom system turning on.

“Hey! Watch it! You’re doing that on purpose, #3!”

“Oh, am I? You’ve already messed up the background history this much, does it even matter at this point?”

“You make it sound as if it’s my fault. I’m not the one who chose Hard Mode. I simply suggested it as an option. It doesn’t mean it had to be chosen.”

“Both of you stop it. #3, get your finger off the intercom.”

Beep.

After that, no other words could be heard. The calming elevator music was the only thing that could be heard. It must have been boring for the System Temp to sit there with no one else to keep them company. At least a conversational partner would have been nice to have.

The room the System Temp was in had 4 walls, all pure white in color. There were no plants to decorate the room, no windows to allow in light, and there weren’t any decorative paintings to serve as a relief for the eyes!

It was a wonder how this room was lit up when there weren’t any light fixtures. Maybe the walls themselves glowed?

KEEEEN----

“Hey hey, he’s rioting.”

“Ahhh~ Transmigrators are always so willful! Give him a taste of karma, that’ll shut him up for now. They need to realize if they don’t listen to us, they’ll only suffer.”

Beep.

Whether or not someone had turned on the intercom on purposefully for the System Temp to hear that was anyone’s guess. Maybe it was a pure coincidence, or maybe they wanted to give a warning that any acts of rebellion would be met with ‘karma’.

All one could do was sit on the couch and wait… and wait… and wait. Being left alone allowed for thoughts to run rampant.

For what reason were they chosen? Is this a kidnapping? Is this Hell? Did they die? Can they even return home?

[Answer: Once you lead the game to a successful end, you will be returned home. The System Moderators were bored and enlisted you to help curb their boredom. Do your best, System Temp. Good luck on going home soon.]

A mechanical voice rang inside their head, promptly giving them the answer, but it wasn’t necessarily the answer they wanted to hear.

The elevator music suddenly cut out and the Television screen lit up without warning.

An energetic voice rang out from a mysterious source. It was hard to tell where the voice was coming from.

Welcome to the System Moderated Life Simulation game! You are our first contestant, congratulations! It’s a huge honor being able to play through the trial run, wouldn’t you know?

I know, I know, you must be overwhelmed by how honored you are. We went as far as to choose you who already knows the series: ‘Proud Immortal Demon’s way’ so you don’t need a refresher course on the main characters. Feel free to thank us for our consideration later.

To explain once more, this game will progress by pausing at random points to ask you questions. Your answers will lead characters down different paths. If you choose all the wrong answers, it may result in death! If you choose all the right answers, they will live, maybe even find love!

Will you lead Luo Binghe down the original harem route? Maybe you’ll have Shen Qingqiu fall in love with someone else.

Speaking of Shen Qingqiu, there is a surprise!

For choosing Hard Mode… you get an extra character to control! This character is… the original Shen Qingqiu! That’s right, you heard me right. The ORIGINAL.

The Shen Qingqiu that’s in a relationship with Luo Binghe… is actually a transmigrator! Unlike you, he was migrated into the novel, while you are a System temp! You have the better deal, really.

Look, when we reversed time, we kept him and adjusted the background story. We wiped out his memory, so he won’t remember his previous adventures as he’ll think he just transmigrated into a child’s body.

He must grow along with this story for a second time and you get to watch and control their fate with your decisions!

No pressure though.

Hm? Tell you the background story? That’s no fun (for us) if we tell you right away! You need to unlock that yourself! If you’re lucky, one of the characters may trigger a flashback event for you!

It’s time for our break so I’ll stop the introduction phase here. You seem like a smart cookie, so we’re sure you’ll figure out the rest on your own! Good luck!

It was dead silent as the System Moderators went on their break, leaving the System Temp alone. The Television screen flashed, and the scenery changed.

The opening scene was of Shen Qingqiu laying in bed with Yue Qingyuan sitting next to him patiently. “Ah… you’re awake Xiao-Yuan. How are you feeling? You collapsed suddenly with a high fever. Xiao-Jiu has gone out in your place.” Yue Qingyuan explained solemnly. “Some of the disciples witnessed Xiao-Jiu coming to retrieve you, and by this point, I’m sure the secret is out.”

‘Shen Qingqiu’ was a fake name that the two twin brothers have made for themselves. Shen Jiu was the original scummy goods, while Shen Yuan was the transmigrator who the plot changed to accommodate.

Slowly, Shen Yuan sat up with much difficulty, feeling his burning forehead with his clammy hand. He felt horrible forcing Shen Jiu to take his place. The two of them made up one Shen Qingqiu and they usually alternated who had the pleasure of acting the part of a Peak Master.

Shen Jiu had been playing the part for a long time now as Shen Yuan was busy cultivating to catch up to his elder twin brother. Shen Yuan went into the cultivation world later than Shen Jiu did and so it took time for him to play catch up, even with Shen Jiu taking things slower for his sake.

He’d never admit to it, but he did try to slow down his pace so his brother could catch up to him. Once they both had the same cultivation, Shen Yuan could resume playing the teacher role.

Unfortunately, he was born with a weaker body and he was prone to getting sick. That was the reason why his cultivation speed was much slower than Shen Jiu’s, but he never got mad at his younger twin over this.

In fact, Shen Yuan seemed to be the only one that Shen Jiu could be considered ‘soft’ towards.

Just when he finally caught up, he collapsed. This would’ve been the perfect time for Shen Jiu to study more on the demon kind, but Shen Yuan ruined it.

Just as he was feeling upset over this, the door quickly opened. “What’s wrong? Were you bullied?” The stern voice of his elder brother interrupted his thoughts.

Shen Yuan shook his head, looking miserable. “I’m sorry brother, I fell ill at a bad time. I’m so useless to have caused you trouble again… even though I vowed to help you.”

A sigh.

Not giving Yue Qingyuan the cold shoulder, Shen Jiu did give him some acknowledgement in the form of a head nod. Though he had many misgivings towards him, he was the reason why the two brothers could be together like this. He had to give him some merit for that.

With his fan, he smacked the top of Shen Yuan’s head. “Ridiculous. Who dares call you useless? Tell me and I will send them to hell thrice over.”

The reason why Shen Yuan fell ill was because of how hard he was pushing himself to cultivate. With his knowledge as a transmigrator, he knew that his elder brother was bullying the protagonist! He has a death wish!

Don’t you know you’ll turn into a human stick if you continue down this route!? This needs to be fixed!

Even with him imploring Shen Jiu to be kinder to Luo Binghe, it didn’t amount to much. The elder brother would apply his own flawed logic to Shen Yuan’s words.

For example:

‘Instead of beating him within a half inch of his life, I will beat him within 5 inches of his life.’

‘Instead of beating him, throwing him into the shed with no food or water, I’ll beat him him up and throw him into the shed with food!’

‘I want to kill him right this instant, but I’ll settle for having Ming Fan beat him up while I watch.’

This was his definition of ‘being nicer.’

Can you imagine Shen Yuan’s feeling of exasperation?

“You only need to focus on getting better. This Master will take care of things just fine.”

There’s no way things are going to be ‘just fine’ with the way you bully the protagonist! “…Brother… how is… Luo Binghe?” Shen Yuan asked cautiously, being sure to monitor Shen Jiu’s facial expressions carefully.

The other scowled at the sound of the name. Why his younger brother was so obsessed with that trash, he couldn’t understand. He was just trash, but he always defended him. ANNOYING!

Covering his face with his fan, he turned to look at Yue Qingyuan. It was implicitly understood that he wished to ignore the question.

That was enough for Shen Yuan to know that ‘Shen Qingqiu’ had bullied Luo Binghe once again. Can you please consider the feelings of your younger brother who will need to do damage control in your stead?

“Thank you for taking care of Shen Yuan. Since he’s awake, you should leave now. I can take it from here.” He didn’t want to be with Yue Qingyuan any longer than was necessary.

It didn’t matter what pitiful looks you gave him, he still hadn’t forgiven you for breaking your promise.

Casting a quick side glance at Shen Yuan, Yue Qingyuan smiled gently at Shen Jiu. “It was no problem at all, Shen Qinqiu. Seeing as he’s stabilized, I shall take my leave soon, but not before discussing something with you both.”

The two of them acted as one person. When one person was the public face, the other rested and hit the books, ingesting all the information they could.

Since Shen Jiu acted as ‘Shen Qinqiu’ the most, his personality was what everyone saw, which meant Shen Yuan had to adapt to this personality when he was the public face.

He was very intelligent, and he had the acting prowess of a God. Even though he was easily frightened, tender hearted, and sarcastic, he acted like a proper Peak Master when he was out as ‘Shen Qinqiu’.

He always adjusted his own personality to match his older brother’s, who was the main face of Shen Qingqiu. His skills in acting were so good, even Yue Qingyuan had a hard time telling them apart most times!

Now that the secret is out, they had to discuss on how to move going forward.

“I would suggest that Shen Qingqiu takes the title of Peak Lord while Shen Yuan acts as the second in command. It’s too late to hide the truth from your peak disciples anymore. I’ve prevented them from spreading the truth to other peaks, but you can’t continue on as you have before.”

There was truth in what he said, but they’d acted the part as one entity for so many years, it was hard to break the habit.

Nothing would have to change if they gave the excuse that there was so much work to do that one always had to stay behind. As they were identical twins, no one would be able to tell the two apart.

“Brother, I think we can accept this. No one can tell us apart, so I can take over as Shen Qinqiu, and you can take on my identity and study in solitude. With our secret being revealed, that means periodically, I can walk outside with you.” Shen Yuan displayed a gentle smile (that he knew Shen Jiu was secretly weak to) on his face.

For years, never have the two of them ever appeared under the sun at the same time. The only time they had together was in the private quarters of Shen Qingqiu.

“Hmph. Accepted.”

Yue Qingyuan slowly exhaled the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He honestly expected more resistance than this, but this worked out for the better. He would have to make the announcements soon.

“Do get better Shen Yuan. I’ll visit again at a later date. Look after your brother well, Shen Qingqiu. I’ll be taking my leave now.” He stood with no wasted movements and left the room.

Even though he preferred to refer to them as Xiao-Jiu and Xiao-Yuan, he knew that doing so in Shen Jiu’s presence would make him rave in anger, and that would only hurt the sickly Shen Yuan, so he refrained from doing so in the elder’s presence.

He so wanted to be able to refer to him as Xiao-Jiu again, but he wasn’t allowed to. He could only wait for the day Shen Jiu would allow it. So for now, he could only refer to him as Shen Qingqiu and his younger brother as Shen Yuan.

When it was just him and Shen Yuan, he liked to affectionately refer to him as Xiao-Yuan.

Shen Yuan, who had the milder personality, didn’t mind being referred to that way so he always accepted it. He never questioned why Yue Qingyuan changed the way he addressed him in the presence of his brother, because he had enough sense to realize there was some history between the two.

Not wanting to bring up bad memories, Shen Yuan never asked his brother what relationship he had with Yue Qingyuan and why he seemed so angry with him.

“Hurry up and sleep. I’ll bring you porridge later.”

Shen Yuan chuckled quietly and he laid back down.

He never knew that the original ‘scum’ goods had a kind bone in his body. This had to be information that was never revealed in the original novel, and Shen Yuan felt so bad for all the times he called for Shen Qinqiu to get castrated in the comments.

Forgive him brother, he never knew the truth! He knows his wrongs!

Admittedly, it was stifling to have Shen Jiu be so protective over him, but he could understand because as far as Shen Jiu knew, Shen Yuan was the only family he had left.

Hoping to use familial love to melt his icy heart slowly, Shen Jiu may learn to be less like a scum villain, and more like a respectable Peak Master.

DING!

The screen that was playing out like a drama froze in place.

It’s the first fate changer!

System temp, make your decision, which of the Shen brothers will you ‘Main’? Whoever you choose will be the brother you control most often. Choose wisely as this cannot be changed! Your choice will dictate how the rest of the story goes.

One brother has more death traps than the other.

[Main Shen Jiu or Shen Yuan?]

[Previous Segment] [Table of Contents] [Next Segment]

A/N: So yeah, click on the link to choose between Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu. You will still see both in the story, but one will have more ‘screen time’ so to speak if you main them. Whenever they are both in the same scene I will refer to them as Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan, but when only one is in scene, I will call them Shen Qinqiu because that’s the persona they’re acting as. Since the point of the game is to control other characters and not just Shen Qingqiu, it would give you too much of an advantage if I tell you which brother is acting as Shen Qingqiu at any given moment, so you will have to make an educated guess!

Hopefully this idea flies well with people? If not, I’ll just discard this experimental project. If it is received well, I’ll continue with it! Until next time!

#SVSSS #Scum Villain's Self-saving system #Scum Villain #Neo writes drabbles #SVSSSLifeSimProject #((I'm a lil nervous now because depending on who you choose to main it can get very dangerous))#((Idk I personally thought adding a Twin feature would be fun! Protective SJ in the house. Tis why this is hardmode lol))

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bethhxrmon · 5 years

Text

All I Ask of You Pt. 32

“No other road, no other way, no day but today” - “Another Day” from Rent

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female OC

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: It’s kind of a sleepover

Warnings: My hand slipped so there’s some angst???

A/N: So I kept up today, but I really don’t think I’ll have a chapter go out next week. I’m super sorry about that, just please bear with me because this month is long as heck! As always, I love feedback and the masterlist is in my bio!

“Wait you wanna what now?” Ned asked, raising an eyebrow at Harper.

Harper sighed, “Okay, I’m just saying it would be super fun to pull an all-nighter with everyone.”

“But we’ve already been having a huge long-term sleepover, why do we need to stay up all night?” he shook his head.

Harper pursed their lips, “It boosts morale, and I barely know you and Peter. And you two barely know me. The only one who would probably not be surprised by all our shenanigans would be Annie.”

“Don’t overestimate me,” Annie piped up, stirring her lemonade with a straw, “Besides, it would be super fun!”

Peter chuckled, “You’re just saying that ‘cause you already pull all-nighters.”

“Actually, I’ve been sleeping a little bit more lately, not a whole lot, but it’s better,” she said, shrugging.

Harper nodded, “See? We already have one person who’s just gonna be up regardless. And it’s sounding like Peter’s game. So, Ned, what’re you gonna do?”

“Okay, fine, but shouldn’t this just happen naturally?”

“Maybe, but I don’t think any of us would do this very well naturally. No offense,” Harper replied.

“So, how’s it starting?”

Harper looked around the small kitchen, biting their lip in thought, “We could have a fire and roast marshmallows for a few hours.”

“No!” Annie exclaimed, “S-sorry, I just… I don’t do too well around smoke at the moment. I wouldn’t wanna screw everything up.”

Peter reached over, holding her hand, “Hey, it’s okay. We just won’t do that, we can do a lot of other stuff.”

“Exactly, that was just me pulling something out of my ass. No one said I had great ideas in the first place,” Harper pointed out with a small laugh, “We could watch some movies or something.”

“We could try to make some snacks too, make them s’mores themed or something,” Ned suggested.

Harper nodded, “Yeah! That’s brilliant, see, I should have you do the planning and stuff.”

“I mean, the real goal is to just stay up all night, right?” Peter asked, “That’s easy enough, Mr. Stark’s giving us all of tomorrow off.”

“Well, I’d hope so, I think if we work on that webbing fluid any longer I’m gonna bash my head into a wall,” Annie claimed, taking a sip of her drink.

Harper grinned, “Can’t say the same, the new suit’s coming along great. And I have Ned working on another possible idea, but it’s a little bit different than the original ideas.”

“It’s been awesome, I’ve also been working on an AI because Peter has one. It’s just a matter of making it compatible, which is a piece of cake,” Ned explained.

Over the couple of weeks they had been in the middle of the woods, so much had gotten done. Yet, there was also so much that still needed to be looked at. There was also the fact that Annie didn’t want to leave. Everything was so easy and calm. If something got to be too much for her, she had the time to work through it.

Still, that didn’t mean things were perfect. Annie was still petrified by the smell of smoke, and she still hadn’t quite explained what happened in that burning building in the first place. Quite frankly, she didn’t see a point in reliving it.

Except, her subconscious still loved to bring it up. Two therapy sessions didn’t fix all her problems. Not that Annie had expected such a miracle to happen. Though, she did figure out how to stop herself from throwing up and nearly passing out.

Breathing exercises were more helpful than she thought they were going to be. Actually, she ended up enjoying therapy more than she had originally counted on. It wasn’t like it was the highlight of her day or anything, but she didn’t hate it. In reality, it was her chance to realize whether or not her problems were that bad.

Much to her surprise, they sort of were.

“Anywho, aside from the suit, I’ve also just been noodling around with some new designs in general. You know, just some fun portfolio stuff. I doubt you’d wear anything like this to school. I mean, I would, but no one can really match my energy,” Harper added, passing Annie their sketchbook.

Annie took it, looking through the wildly colored suits and ball gowns, “This is awesome! I think I’d wear one of those dresses to a dance or something.”

“You serious? Yo, Peter, would you wear one of the matching suits?”

Peter looked over Annie’s shoulder and shrugged, “I mean, I think so, I just… I don’t know, I don’t really like sticking out too much.”

“Okay, Peter, but you’re literally Spider-Man! One of the coolest dudes on the planet!” Ned exclaimed, “If you won’t wear one, I definitely will.”

Harper grinned, “Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve been watching you sketch them out, they’re fucking awesome!” Ned responded, “You should just make a cool hat to go with one of those and it would be, like, ten times cooler.”

“Oh jeez, I’ve been trying to figure out hats, but they haven’t been super high on my priority list. But, there’s still time.”

Peter looked at Harper, “You know we need that suit as soon as possible, right?”

“You do know that I would drive myself crazy working on one project at a time, right?” Harper retorted, “And like I said, I’ve got a couple ideas up my sleeve there too.”

The four teens kept talking about what they were working on until Annie saw her phone light up with an email notification. It could have been anything from one of her parents to a coupon from the Hershey’s Store. Still, she was going to err on the cautious side and check it anyways.

It was from Ms. Salazar and she quickly opened it on her phone. Only for it to be followed by her standing up from her chair and jumping up and down.

“This is awesome! You guys will never guess what happened!” Annie exclaimed, beaming.

Peter bit his lip, thinking, “Um… you got into an acting school?”

“Nope. But it is related to acting.”

Harper smirked, “You’re such a noob at this, let the best friend try. It’s got something to do with a future production, doesn’t it?”

“We’re doing Rent! Do you guys know how awesome that is?!” Annie asked, looking at the others.

Harper’s jaw dropped, “What do I have to do to be put in charge of costume design? Come on, I would make killer costumes and you know it!”

“I don’t know, but she did me a solid because I might have, maybe, possibly, blackmailed her before school got out? But it’s no biggie. I already know who I’m gonna audition for, but what about you guys?” Annie asked, looking at Ned and Peter.

Peter chuckled nervously, “I got enough of being in front of people. I think I could help publicize? Maybe, I mean, I really like working with cameras, actually.”

“If I don’t get a part this time, I’m gonna riot!” Ned exclaimed, “I wanna be Collins. His part’s awesome!”

Annie grinned, “That’s the spirit, my dude! I’m gonna audition for Mimi, and with this summer ahead of us, you can bet your ass I’m getting it.”

“Yeah, I saw the movie on Netflix when it was on there for, like, a month,” Ned explained.

Harper smirked, “Oh, you don’t even know all the good shit then. We gotta show him the actual full musical! It’s way better, trust me!”

“Yes! And we can get it totally legally, and it’ll be super awesome! Let’s do it tonight!” Annie suggested, smiling.

Peter shrugged, “I mean, I wanna see what character you’re gonna audition for. You’ll kill it though, you always do.”

“Oh shut it, you’ve only see me do one character where my main job was to fall for you. Which, I clearly didn’t have any trouble with.”

They didn’t have to do much convincing to get Tony to agree to letting all four teens stay in their cabin and have some pizza for the night. It was also easy enough to get a hold of the youtube video of the full-filmed version of Rent on Broadway.

Actually, Tony seemed more than happy to leave all of them so he could have a fancy dinner with Pepper. He claimed that it was just going to be boring adult stuff, but Annie could tell that those two were probably going to have a little bit too much fun. Especially with a day off planned for the next day. It was something that was none of her business, and she wasn’t about to make it her business either.

“Alrighty, who’s ready for one of the best musicals of all time?” asked Harper, “What? It’s fucking legendary, it covers AIDS, gay people, people who aren’t cis, and drug abuse. Larson was ahead of his time and his death is nothing short of an artistic tragedy.”

Annie sighed, nodding, “You’re right. Now let’s get this show on the road! We’ve got a ton of junk food that needs to be eaten and songs that need to be sung.”

“It’s always a sing-a-long with you, isn’t it?” Peter asked teasingly.

She quickly nodded, “Yep, glad you caught on, Babe.”

And it was definitely a sing-a-long. Not one where every pitch was hit perfectly, but one where there was a lot of energy. Especially with Harper and Annie getting into it, trying to pull off all the choreography.

Though, Ned got pretty into it at the parts he could remember well enough. Peter tried, but it was hard when he clearly didn’t know the lyrics. Annie had no trouble pretending like Peter was Roger. And it was all fun and games until the second act started.

“Maybe we could just call it good here,” Annie suggested, “Who needs to know how it ends anyways?”

Harper nodded, “I agree, I don’t wanna see the last part.”

“Oh, come on, how bad could it be?” Peter questioned, “I’ve never seen this before, it’ll be fun!”

Annie frowned, “You don’t know what you’re getting into here.”

“I mean, she’s not wrong,” Ned said.

“Please?” Peter pleaded, looking at Annie with his sweet brown eyes.

Annie glared at him, “You’re lucky you’re cute. Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Of course, as anyone who has seen Rent before knows, the second act was short, but also filled with nothing but tears. There wasn’t a whole lot of singing along aside from a killer rendition of “Take Me Or Leave Me” from Annie and Harper, something they had definitely worked on a long time before.

Instead, Annie and Peter were cuddled up to each other, crying. While Harper and Ned sat in front of the screen, crying and then eventually hugging each other.

“Oh, thank fuck, I thought she was gonna die,” Peter commented, breathing a sigh of relief.

Annie nodded, “Yep, but I’m still not over Angel dying. I’ve never gotten over that, honestly.”

“Yeah, me neither. It’s bull, but I get it, but it’s still bull,” Harper said, wiping tears from their eyes.

Ned smiled a bit, “Yep, that’s why I wanna be Collins because I can be sad for the rest of the musical and it’s totally normal!”

“Depends on who Angel is… oh! What if Flash is Angel?” Annie murmured, getting up to pace around, “No, that wouldn’t be a thing. He’s too… transphobic for that? Yeah, that’s the word.”

Ned shook his head, “No, Flash would drop if he got Angel… I think he’d be Benny. But, I do know that you’d kill it as Mimi.”

“She reminds me a lot of Tina,” Peter said softly, looking at the ground.

“Yeah… yeah, she does, doesn’t she? Not that that’s why I’d try out as her for that, I mean, that’d be silly. That’s totally not a coping strategy I’d use.”

Harper got up on the couch, putting an arm around Annie, “If you did, that’s okay too. You said you were gonna do some kind of drama therapy thing. That would play right into it, right?”

“Maybe? I don’t know… just, maybe it would get me over all this stuff, you know?”

Peter looked at her, “That’s good. You should at least try to see what you can do. And I doubt it would be a bad thing either way.”

“It’s the only thing I can really think of, you know?”

Ned shrugged, “Maybe if you talked about what happened with Tina, that could help, right?”

“Maybe… I don’t know, that would be like reliving it, wouldn’t it?”

Peter frowned, “No different than most nights, right?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. The worst of the nightmares are way behind me. I don’t wake up screaming. I-I’m not reliving anything and I don’t want to.”

Harper rolled their eyes, “You’re being full of shit, Annie. We all literally know that’s not true.”

“Okay, you guys really wanna know what happened? Fine. I’ll tell you exactly what happened. I went up into that apartment like a dumbass, right? Of course, you all know that-”

“Annie, you don’t need to-”

Annie cut off Peter, “No, clearly I do because none of you seem to get it, okay? Okay, where was I? Oh, right, Tina was trapped, you wanna know why? Because I convinced her to speak up and to testify against Dar- that awful man. And he got angry and him and some other guys were around. A-at least I think that was the case. Because he already knew what you were doing, Peter. Okay? That was fucking scary! And I thought it was just some normal shit where I’d block some bullets and get everyone out safe and sound. But he had… he had some kind of bullet that… it went right through whatever I put up. So I was scared, okay? I-I didn’t know what to do, so I blew up an electrical outlet, a-and I got thrown so hard I passed out.”

“Seriously, if you don’t wanna talk-”

“No. You’re all pushing me to do it, have been since the whole thing happened. You don’t get to chicken out just because it’s too much to handle! So, where was I? Oh, right, I passed out. When I came to, the building was burning, a-and Tina was there… she must’ve lost a lot of blood by then. I-I couldn’t tell, I was just trying to get us out, but the building was collapsing and I couldn’t breathe. B-but I had to get her out. So I tried anyways. B-but it was too late and she was dead before I got her out. So forgive me for not being able to get over it. Forgive me for trying to keep you guys from all the shit I’ve been going through. Y-you know what, fuck it! I’ve been having all kinds of nightmares about it. I-I hate going to sleep because I can’t stop them. A-and I would keep throwing up and having panic attacks. Sorry for not being able to handle some of the shit I’ve been through.”

Annie held her face in her hands, trying to keep herself from crying. When she felt Peter reaching to pull her in, she put up a barrier to keep anyone from touching her.

Peter frowned, “Hey, you’re right… I don’t understand. But I can try to. I mean, y-you know about the whole deal with almost being crushed by a building, and my uncle… it takes time to get through. Even then, you don’t really get over it, but you try to.”

“It’s been awhile, but I kinda get it. At least, that whole feeling of being alone,” Harper started.

Annie looked at Harper, “Is this about your parents sucking?”

“Well, more about them literally not giving a shit about me. Remember the Stark Expo? Well, my parents are super rich, so we went. We went a lot, actually. And of all the days we could’ve gone. We went on that one night when all hell broke loose. So… I freaked because before I could figure out something was happening, my parents ran off. Scared of dying I guess… well, so am I. This one family picked me up in the middle of it. I never figured out who they were, but I remember the kid had an Iron Man mask on,” they finished, tears brimming in their eyes.

Peter’s jaw dropped, “I think that was my aunt and uncle! You had longer hair.”

“Holy shit, really?!” Harper exclaimed, smiling a bit.

He nodded, “Y-yeah, I think so!”

Ned looked up and the others, “I don’t know if this really fits, but my dad was abusive… it was a long time ago, so I don’t remember much of it. But sometimes I get really anxious at weird things and I wonder if it had to do with him. My mom won’t talk about him at all, which is probably for the best, but it really makes me think sometimes.”

Annie got rid of the barrier, tears streaming down her face as she found herself in the middle of a group hug. It felt like a wave of pressure was lifted from her shoulders.

“Sorry, I-I shouldn’t have snapped like that… just… sorry,” Annie murmured.

Harper chuckled, “It’d take a lot more than that to get rid of any of us. You’re good, I think we all kinda needed this.”

Taglist: @flushings-here / @parkerpuffwrites / @gaypanda / @twilightparker / @ganseysblues / @lionsfandomsandbearsohmy / @ijustdontknowsometimes / @moonstruckholland / @lcy-thot / @dolphinsarecuteandstuff / @buzzinglee

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x oc #spider-man #spider-man x oc #spider-man x reader #spider-man: homecoming #spider-man: far from home #mcu #mcu fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #all i ask of you fic

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tibbygetsrekt · 5 years

Text

Guess who went to their first Pride today! Guess who also has HELLA social anxiety but was determined to do it anyways? This guy. So while I was at work trying not to think about it I wrote a thing! And then I went to Pride in South Dakota of all places and it was pretty damned amazing tbh. Anyways fic using self insert in the TF2 fandom with Heavy below the cut.

Ta, Tiberius

“Assassin?’

They heard the team calling for them, but couldn’t move. They were exhausted. From smiling, from everyone being too close, being touched, touching other people. They were wore the fuck out and had no inclination to answer anyone. Instead they were curled up inside the crate that Sasha was resting on.

It was safe there, no one would touch Sasha, and would avoid the room to make sure Heavy didn’t think that they touched Sasha. Moving to lay on their stomach, Assassin dropped their head onto their arm, thumb pressing the volume up on their phone, music crooning through their ears, and just tried to make the world go away.

And didn’t realize they’d fallen asleep until vibrations coming through the ground alerted them to someone coming. To be honest they weren’t even sure the team liked them, they always seemed to be on, always loud, always on some other bullshit. But they couldn’t help themselves being surrounded all the time with so many people. Even three people could be considered too many.

Turning the music down to be able to actually hear, they lifted their head and fought the urge to scoot back in the crate. Don’t move and they’ll go away, don’t speak and they won’t hear you. The light flicked on, and Assassin flinched, blinking a few times before being able to see properly.

There was one person who would go near Sasha, watching Heavy’s boots begin walking towards the crate. Trying to make themselves smaller despite the fact he couldn’t see them, Assassin could still feel their anxiety digging its claws into the back of their neck.

“I know you are here, Assassin.’

They didn’t answer, feeling their throat clench as the anxiety spiked all over again. They trusted Heavy, even when he was furious he’d never actually kill them. But the idea of those hands touching them, even just to drag them out of the box made them feel panicked. The boots moved out of sight, and part of them relaxed, a small part that was dumb and thought out of sight meant safe.

Assassin’s phone fell from their hand as Sasha was moved, the crate rocking. Looking up they saw Heavy’s fingers curl around the lip of the crate and only had a moment to realize what he meant to do before their world shifted as he flipped the crate upright. Without a side of the box to block the bulb, it was too bright, and Assassin’s eyes teared up, crouching down in the crate and covering their head with both arms.

“Ah… it is that time.’

They heard something that didn’t make much sense, a few things, and they yanked out their earbuds trying to rally the outlandish personality they put on for the rest of the team. But they hadn’t had enough time to recharge their battery.

Lightbulb, shattered. Chair, dragged. Heavy, sat. Their mind finally registered the sounds they’d heard, wiping at their face hurriedly before lifting their head again. It was dark in the room, but they could make out Heavy’s silhouette above them, his arms crossed on the rim of the crate.

“Did you eat today?’

“No.’ They scowled up at his grunt. “I wasn’t hungry.’

“You are never hungry when you should be, toksichnyy tsvetok.’

That was fair, Assassin wrapping their earbuds and cord around their phone. But they stayed crouched low in the box, even though their body was screaming for a hug. It was also still screaming don’t touch me, and Assassin sniffled against their better judgment. Heel of their hand swiping at their cheeks, they reached up to grab the opposite lip of the crate and stood to perch on it.

“How did you know where to find me?’

“When you were not on the fridge, or in the rafters, or any of your other ridiculous places, I thought you might be… dealing.’

“That’s a nice way of putting it, yeah.’ Sniffing, swiping at their nose with their wrist, they could still hear the rest of the team calling for them.

“I do not understand your other places, you hate heights. Very much. Why?’

“Because I hate that I hate them, I didn’t used to.’

“Ah, facing your fears. That is a good thing.’ He still hadn’t moved, and they suddenly realized that he was talking softly.

“And if I jump you catch me.’ They added, a poor effort to put back on the over enthusiastic mask they wore. The smile didn’t last a second, their hand slowly moving towards where his arms were stacked before pulling back. “And, y’know because I sometimes pretend I fell and you caught me.’

“I will always catch you.’

Their chest clenched tightly, feeling the hot prick of tears in their eyes.

“Well I am a trained assassin, dontcha know, I could probably pull off a three point landing if I wanted.’

“Yes, and ruin your knees for your old age.’

They couldn’t argue that, legs swinging gently, heels lightly thumping against the box. Outside the door they heard someone run past calling for them, and froze, head snapping towards the door in case they came back to check the room. They didn’t, and Assassin slowly relaxed again, looking back towards Heavy’s silhouette.

“You are feeling a little better, yes?’

“Yeah, no I’m feeling a lot better.’ They lied, a tight smile he couldn’t see. “Just needed a bit of quiet to get my head back together, y’know.’

“I do know.’ He chuckled. “It’s always amusing watching you lose the battle, because you never seem to notice until it is too late.’

“So glad I can amuse you, Heavy. My only life mission.’

“I know it’s bad, that you are hurting yourself, but the little twitches, and too bright smiles, they are amusing.’

“No, yeah no I get it. A laugh riot, eh.’ Swinging their legs over the crate’s side to get out of the box entirely, they were caught off guard by hands wrapping around their waist.

Reacting, they squirmed and twisted, feet straining to touch ground, Assassin let out a cough when they were suddenly hugged tightly.

“Jeez! What is this?’ More squirming did nothing, finally going limp as they crossed their arms over their chest.

“It is better I laugh at this then get concerned.’ Heavy’s chin rested on their shoulder, ignoring their sulking. “When I get concerned I get angry, and I would begin punching anyone who cannot tell you need to get away.’

“Oh.’

They could see that happening, Heavy suddenly punching Soldier in the face for being too loud, Scout for how fast he was talking, Medic for getting into their personal space, Spy for staring too long… the entire fort would find itself flipped upside out.

“You’d do that for me?’ Unaware that they were rubbing their cheek against his, Assassin tried to shake the image of Heavy on a rampage. “You’ve known them longer though-’

“Which is why I try to find your pain cute, so I do not murder my comrades.’

“That’s… oofta that’s so sweet!’ Dramatically laying a hand over their heart, Assassin laughed when he grunted and put them down finally.

Turning they reached up to cup his face, going on tip toe to press a kiss to his lower lip. They weren’t prepared to find themself crushed against him, his arms right as he hugged them.

“I worry that one day you will leave and not find your way back on a very bad day.’

“What? That’s crazy talk, yeah? I’m like a wild cat you fed, and now you’re stuck with me.’ Arms wrapping around his shoulders, they nuzzled against his neck. It was hard to be scared of anything when Heavy held them.

“You need a safe word.’

“I have one! It’s Cary Grant, but I didn’t think you were into that sorta thing… Seems more Medic’s thing, or Scout… …. Maybe Spy.’

“Nyet, I mean for when everything becomes too much. Something for you to say, so I can help you leave before it gets really bad.’

“That’s…’ they wanted to say dumb, but… “Okay, so if I notice, then I should say… …. ……. I dunno?’

“Sasha.’ Assassin pulled back a bit, staring at him in the dark. “If it starts becoming too much you say Sasha, and I will chase you from the room. It will look like a game to our comrades. Or I will yell that you touched Sasha again and chase you from the room if you are pushing yourself too far.’

“I think you just like yelling at me, you big oaf.’ They let their head fall back onto his shoulder but didn’t sound angry, they sounded amused.

“You like my yelling.’ He said as he nuzzled their neck, finally putting them down. “You have very strange tastes, toksichnyy tsvetok.’

“I’m wired all sorts of wrong, so that’s no surprise.’ When Heavy began to move towards the door, they didn’t follow.

He stopped, turning around.

“Can we stay here a bit longer?’

“Yes.’

Going back to the chair he sat, reaching out to pull them to sit on his knee, an arm around their waist. Lifting their legs, they rested their feet on his other leg and leaned against him.

“This is not a good place to sleep.’

“I’m not sleepy, I just don’t want to-’

“When you are dealing, you get very tired. I will not be surprised when you fall asleep in a few minutes.’

“I will not!’

But they did, not even five minutes sitting in the dark, cuddled close to Heavy’s chest, Assassin fell asleep, one hand clutching at Heavy’s shirt. Rolling his eyes, he tucked his other arm under their knees and stood. It took him a moment to get the door opened, lips twitching with amusement when Assassin shifted, pressing their face against his chest at the sudden light but didn’t wake.

“So you found them.’ Spy stated, a cigarette hanging from the edge of his mouth. “Curled up with your Sasha?’

“Yes.’

“Mm, I thought as much. You might want to hurry, Scout is due to run through here any moment looking for them.’

Sighing, Heavy nodded and carried the sleeping assassin to his room and kicked the door shut. They refused to let go, so he sat down and awkwardly scooted back on his bed, laying down with them half sprawled across him. It wasn’t until after he was somewhat comfortable that he thought of the blanket he was laying on. His room was always cold, he liked it that way. And Assassin was from a cold state, and didn’t seem to mind at all as they shifted until their face was tucked against his neck.

“You are going to get cold, toksichnyy tsvetok.’ In response they cuddled closer.

That was all he was going to get, Assassin mumbling nonsense in their sleep. Letting out an exasperated noise, Heavy rolled with an arm wrapped around them, and half laid across them instead, fighting a smile as they let out a soft contented noise. He would worry about the blanket later, it was good they were finally getting sleep.

#self insert #self shipping #tibby’s library ;; f/o fics #( bullets on the chessboard )#anxiety cw #it was a really rough day #i don't like being around a ton of people #i hate being out in the sun at all #if you need me to go outside call my bitch ass at dusk

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beamdolans · 6 years

Text

Only Have Eyes For You [G.D]

SUMMARY: His dads insane, his mothers a disheartened wreck, his brother is a major junkie, and his bad boy facade is driving him mad. All the girls desire the secretive boy, but he only has eyes for her.

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: sorry a lot of depressing shit and smut I guess. possible triggers? also this is my first fanfic so get ready for some punctuation mistakes!

A/N: thanks recognizedolan on instagram for the manip. This is also part one of a many parted sieries!

[Y/n’s POV]

Tuesday, April 2nd, 4:11pm

"Can someone tell me again why the fuck we're here?" My long time, best friend Rachel exclaimed, quite loudly and very deliberately to Mr.White. I buried my head in my hand and shot her a look across two desks that screamed 'shut up'. Mr.White sauntered over to Rachel and placed his large hands on the gum covered desk that stood before her.

"Well, Miss.Smith." He paused, and locked his gaze on hers, making sure to draw out the uncomfortable silence. The only thing heard in the dimly lit room was the sound of the clock ticking and my uneasy, heavy breaths.

"You and Miss.y/l/n messed up pretty badly yesterday." He stopped and glared in my direction, eye balling me up and down, with the look of disgust plastered so blatantly on his face. He turned his balding head back over to Rachel and let out a sigh that started to sound like it was gonna go on forever. "You socked Mrs.Anderson in the head, she passed out, bless her soul. Then you snuck out of the school, came back with a giant jug of vodka, got hammered in 4th period with Miss.y/l/n, and basically started a riot throughout the 12th grade." Mr.White's voice was so calm and monotone, it was almost terrifying.

From the other side of the room by the window, you could hear deep chuckles coming from the boy that shot over a painfully perfect smile. It lit up the room. "If I were you, I'd keep my laughing to myself, Mr.Dolan." The old man said to Grayson, a boy who basically lives In this room 24/7.

Grayson licked his pink lips and looked down at the ground with a smirk still glued to his face. He picked up his right ear bud, popped it back in his ear and kept working on whatever he was working on.

"Please Rachel, humour me. Am I right?" Mr.White said, knowing damn well he was just being a huge smartass. Rachel crossed her arms and gave the gum in her mouth a loud smack. "That was a rhetorical question.” She sassed. "Well if you didn't want an answer, then you shouldn't have asked." Mr.White raised his hand and placed his pointer finger to her chest, and poked it hard. Rachel quickly grew a perplexed and outraged look on her face. She took her hand and grasped it around his wrist firmly, and stood up so the two were now eye to eye. "Don't fucking touch me, Gary." She said with gritted teeth and furrowed eyebrows.

Rachel wasn't really the type to keep to herself, or just leave a situation as is, a thing most people would do to not make matters worse, but I guess they come in all different types.

I hear Grayson let out a grunt, causing the two to jerk their attention to where he was sitting. "Is everything all right over there? It looks like you guys need some help." He was now standing to his full height and had his hand placed on the back of his neck, rubbing the tension out of it unbearably slow. He knew damn well things were not going over well, he's a bit to cocky for my liking. The room was filled with awkward silence and Mr.Whites eyes were now on Rachel's hand clasped around his wrist. He cleared his throat and pulled away, now leaning against his desk.

"No talking, no moving, and I would like all of your phones on my desk please and thank you."

We all didn't obey to his words right away and stayed in our seats. I saw Rachel look down and twiddle her thumbs, while Grayson rested his elbow on his desk and his head in his palm. I think we were all a little to scared to move. Well, I was at least. "C'mon I'm not getting any younger here." Mr.White said with his hand reached out in front of us, waiting for us to oblige. "Ya got that right." Rachel said under her breath. I got up out of my seat and placed my phone in his hand, and Grayson did the same. "Sorry, say that again Miss.Smith." He said obviously not amused. "How old are you again Mr.White?" Rachel tilted her head, looking actually intrigued by her question.

Damn that girl was a good actor. I get why she's the lead in almost every single school play.

Mr.White cleared his throat. "52." He said, hands in pockets. "Ahh, time has not been kind to you Gary." Rachel said while placing her legs atop her desk and her arms behind her head.

Me and Grayson both let out a laugh that would have been too troublesome to keep in. Gary, sorry, Mr.White cocked an eyebrow and stared hard at the three of us, making sure to let all of the uneasiness he had to offer seep into our heads. He grabbed his bags and headed for the classroom door. "I'll be back at 9:00." He exclaimed visibly hurt by the remake made earlier.

We watched the door lock behind him and the giggling started to subside.

"Damn back at 9:00? I got things to do!" Grayson said taking a look at his watch, and whining at it since it was only 5:00. "And by things to do I assume you mean go out and get in every single girl pants?" Rachel questioned, while popping the gum in her mouth a couple hundred times.

Grayson licked his teeth and bobbed his head a few times before strolling over to the side of the class we're both of us have been sitting. He pulled up a chair and rotated it so his hands were placed upon the back of it and his legs were hugged around the bottom. He shook his head and explained, "I'm not into that dumb shit."

I found that very hard to believe since the stories about Kelly Ransom, Lucy Adams and so many more girls I can't even remember the names of have been going around since 9th grade, and he's never opposed to them once.

"Mhmm." Rachel said clearly not convinced either. Grayson's smirk slowly faded. He looked to the ground and tapped his fingers on the top of his seat, looking uncomfortable.

"I'm not into some dumb shit." He raised both eyebrows, leaned back, and opened his arms wide, "What the fuck do you think? That I'm some pussy 18 year old virgin?" He scoffed, "If I'm in the mood, I could get some desperate preppy girl from the cheerleading team to drop to her knees instantly and suck me off, when ever I wanted. It's a blessing." He smiled, "I don't force girls on me, they just migrate to my dick."

Rachel choked on a laugh.

He's full of it. I could tell he was just trying to prove a point to the now two curious girls he found himself talking too. He was exaggerating. I hope. "Aren't all those girls you fucked with why your here?" I said needing some type of closure. Grayson looked in my eyes and smiled.

I've known him since grade 5 and ever since then I've thought that he was the most beautiful man to have walked the earth. When ever his gaze meets mine, my heart seems to skip a beat. I really don't have a thing for guys like him, so to me, he's just eye candy.

"Look who's talking. Y/n, never thought I'd see you in here." He shuffled closer to me. I rolled my eyes, "Well yea, I don't do stupid shit." Grayson smirked, then looked down, "Getting drunk at school and punching a teacher in the head isn't stupid enough?"

That boy thought he was so hilarious.

Rachel grabbed the gum out of her mouth and chucked it across the room.

'Boom!' She yelled after she shot it perfectly into the overfilled garbage can at the front of the class. "Yea she's not into the things that could even get her remotely in trouble." Rachel winked at me, then continued to try and shoot rolled up balls of whatever was in arms reach into the trash. "Shut up!" I said smiling, nudging her arm. "I was with you when all that shit went down!" Rachel scoffed, "Yea, but I did all the work." She stood her ground. "You're cute, you know that?" Grayson said beaming in my direction, playing with the cords of his ear buds.

Rachel raised her eyebrows and took her feet off the desk. She quickly turned in our direction and stood from the old chair she was sitting on, causing a agonizing squeaky noise. She crossed her arms and stared into Grayson's memorizing hazel eyes, for longer then what would keep a person sane. "Take a picture sweetheart, it last longer." He said smugly. She wound up her dainty, very surprisingly robust arm and whacked him right on the side of his cheek.

I jolted back and put my hands to my mouth, trying so hard to hold in a laugh. Rachel started to crack up from her actions while giving me a proud glance. "What the fuck was that for?!" Grayson said while rubbing the spot of contact. "She's too good for you." She said while signalling over to me. Grayson looked at her, then at me with shocked astonishment. "What!?" He said confused. "She's way out of your league. She's got a better personality than you'll ever have, she's basically a precious gem." Rachel said getting down to Grayson's level, giving him a pouty face.

Grayson peered up at me with a look that had embarrassment written all over it. "Ouch." He said, "I guess I'll have to step up my game then." He walked back over to his seat and placed his black ear buds back into his ear before closing his eyes, looking just a bit too comfortable. "There's no music playing dumb ass. You don't have your phone." Rachel said while taking a seat beside me. "Yea, I realized that after I put them in, I didn't want to ruin the moment." He said letting out a giggle. Rachel shrugged, sighed, then put her hand over top mine and rubbed circles onto it while humming to herself. I looked over at him, his face looking as content as ever.

Maybe Dolan wasn't such a bad guy, besides all his dick sucking bull shit.

#dolan twins #grayson dolan imagine #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan #grayson dolan #grayson and ethan #fanfiction #fanfic #ethan and grayson

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warmau · 7 years

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Highschool!AU Jeno

find college!nct (here) & hs!haechan (here)

favorite subject: art

least favorite subject: pre-calculus

voted most likely to: win a noble prize

jeno is,,,,quite far removed from the detached art student trope that like everyone in his highschool thinks he 100% totally is

secretly, he loves laughter and corny jokes. he likes playing video games with haechan and jisung, betting on basketball games in the gym, and doing what any other highschooler likes to do

unfortunately, probably due to his almost always stoic expression and the sketch book under his arm - people get the wrong idea

and don’t get me wrong, he isn’t bullied for it or anything - people just think he’s unapproachable ,,,,,,,

handsome looks at such a young age, so much artistic talent, it’s hard to approach someone who just seems more mature

“mature my butt, jeno can’t even make fried rice.” haechan snorts once when another classman asks him about jeno

aside from spending countless hours sketching, wrappers from snacks and half empty cans of coffee littering around him, jeno likes sitting in the art room after school is over

the lightening pours in through the big windows and it’s quiet, jeno sometimes listens to music or just enjoys the silence

apparently people made up a rumor that countless people have come to him and tried to confess - but he cooly shrugged off their letters and presents with a cold glare

this rumor of course,,,,isn’t true,,the only person who even knows that he’s in there is the art teacher and jisung who puts his nose in just about anyone’s business

plus if someone did confess to jeno, he’d become a stuttering shy mess - seriously he wished more people knew he was a down to earth guy

he’d even confided this to jaemin, when he and the others visited him in a different town

“why don’t more people want to be my friend?”

jaemin had weakly smiled “are those idiots not enough?” he was referring to haechan who had gotten pen marks all over chenle’s arm and was lying that renjun had done it instead. in the corner, jisung was chatting to mark - puppy eyes to the eldest in the room (probably asking him embarrassing questions about college)

jeno had shook his head, “they’re more than enough - but apparently i come of,,,,”

jaemin smiled and it made jeno’s heart feel a little warmer when he said “you’re not cold jeno. you’re just reserved, you protect yourself. nothing wrong with that.”

but yes, jeno is a real angel!! like he’s always helping the art teacher carry supplies and clean up spilt paint

he isn’t very good at math, but goes to tutoring when he can - the senior who helps him is absolutely in awe of how cutesy jeno can be

with a half-moon smile, little chuckles, and moments of cluelessness which makes them go “you must be popular with the ladies?”

jeno just sinks down in his seat,,,,,,,mumbling that he’s far from it

he likes history too, especially korean history even though most of the class is him kicking jisung under the desk to wake up

his uniform is always neat and he looks well-put together

someone had made a nickname for him,,,,cold hearted prince from a manhwa ,,,,,,,

haechan had thought that name was a RIOT and did not let jeno live it down - not until it all changed,,,,,,because of you

you had just transferred to the school, you weren’t aware of jeno until you realized your elective class was art

and the, obviously best artist there, was jeno

who on the first day, you couldn’t help but walk by his canvas - you were all supposed to be doing portraits of animals

and the face of an almost perfectly realistic kitten stared back at you on his half-done canvas

you had stared at it for god knows how long till jeno looked over his shoulder

“yes?”

you snapped out of it, almost dropping the paint in your hand

“oh, um i ,,,,,,, i came over to ask if i can use your brush?”

shakily you pointed to the large brush that rested on his easel

jeno blinked, but handed it too you before he could think to ask why

you bowed your head, and rushed away with a thank you trying to save face and not look like a fool

as the bell rang for the next period, you scurried up to the person who had been working beside you

“hey, who is he?”

you asked, one hand on your backpack strap, the person looked over to see you were talking about jeno

they gave you a sad smile

“lee jeno, cold hearted shoujo? no wait, manhwa prince.”

your eyebrows knitted at the sound of the weird nickname

the person just shrugged “he sticks only to his friends and apparently doesn’t even react when people confess so - don’t get your hopes up.”

you nodded, but still from the corner of your eye watched him

he had hung back and was talking to the teacher,,,,,

he didn’t look cold at all

your first month passed rather boringly, you’d made friends and all of them were keen on jeno being next to unapproachable

but you didn’t get it,,,,maybe because you hadn’t grown up around these parts like everyone else

but were you the only one seeing his cute little smiles while talking with the art teachers, the way his laugh sounded light when he hung out with his own group of friends, how he seemed really passionate about drawing

one afternoon you had walked past the art room on your way to make it to the book club you signed up for

when you saw jeno,,,,

he was hunched over a large drawing pad, his bangs falling over his forehead and the light making his figure look like it was outlined by a soft glow

he seemed to be humming to himself, very low and sweet

again you found yourself staring - it was hard not

you heard someone call out his name somewhere else in the room, and quickly you hurried to hide behind a set of lockers close by

a minute or two passed and jeno walked down the hall, probably to get supplies for the teacher

cautiously, you made your way into the room. the teacher was in the connected office and wouldn’t be able to see you

so while jeno was gone, you were practically alone

you didn’t dare touch the drawing pad, but you did look at what he had been working on

to your surprise, it was a sketch of a vintage car - a mustang maybe? something that looked like it came straight out of the 70s

to your surprise, the details of the drawing were neat and spot-on

it looked like it had been traced from a magazine

“do you need to borrow brushes again?”

you jerked at the sound of the voice, reddening cheeks when you saw jeno standing at the door

you thought for a moment he was mocking you, that you’d look into his eyes and they’d be iced over with something mean

but they weren’t

they were a warm chocolate brown, his mouth was up in a small smile. he was,,,,,joking around with you

“o-oh i just,,,,i just,,,,,”

you didn’t have a quick excuse so you pointed to the sketch of the car “is this yours?”

he laughed “the drawing is, not the car. i wish it was the other way around.”

he came over and pulled out the chair where he had been sitting, he got comfy and picked up his pencil again

you watched in amazement as he easily filled in more details almost effortlessly,,,,,,, “are you a robot?” you mumbled thinking he wouldn’t hear it but he did and he laughed again

you couldn’t believe that the boy in front of you was supposedly ‘cold’ ,,,, he was nothing but cheerful

“it took a lot of practice, i still have more to go.”

you wanted to say something like i think you’re perfect right now,,,but decided against it,,,,afterall this was your first real conversation with him

you realized only ten minutes after watching him work some more that book club was basically over - jeno was also finishing, packing up his pencils and getting up

“do you take the train?”

he suddenly asked and you shyly nodded

he called out a goodbye to the teacher and motioned for you to follow him

“i take it too, want to go together?”

you couldn’t believe it,,,you were walking out of the schools gates with lee jeno

LEE JENO

and he was making easy conversation, with jokes, the handsome features on his face less serious and more relaxed

you were sure no one in school would believe you if you told them - the students who were still there and spotted you two looked shocked beyond belief

“i actually just remembered, i have to stop by the store before i get on the train!” jeno grimaced, smacking his hand against his head as if he’d forgotten something extremely important

“why?”

“ive gotta get some stuff for my halloween costume, jisung wants us to do the scooby doo gang,,,,,”

your eyes widen “,,,,who are you supposed to be?”

jeno gives you a slightly sad look “haechan is going to be fred, jisung wanted velma, chenle daphine, renjun said shaggy before i could so -”

you put your hand over your mouth,,,,,,,, “you’re going as scooby???”

jeno made a pouting face, so cute it almost made your stomach turn, but you were too busy trying not to burst out into laughter

the cold prince of your high school,,,,,,,,,,dressed up as sooby-doo,,,,,,,,

jeno tried to tell you it wasn’t THAT funny,,,,but you couldn’t lie - it was

before you even knew it, you had silently agreed you were coming along and once you walked through the doors of one of those pop-up costume shops you pointed to the set of brown dog ears that hung on display

“i think you’ve met your match,,,,,”

jeno cringed, but took the ears off the shelf and put them on

“woof!” he exclaimed, then hid his face in his hands as you stifled a giggle

“it’s ok,,,it’s very cute!!” you tried to cheer up jeno but it was beyond hard to keep from laughing

you two spent a good hour in there, picking out silly costumes, trying on fake vampire teeth and wigs, just having a good time in each others company

and at some point, with you shifting through funny looking outfits on one of the racks, jeno noticed for the first time that he was getting along with someone so easily

someone that was outside of his immediate friend group

and you looked,,,,,adorable,,,,,your uniform slightly messy from all the costumes you’d tried on, your backpack had a swinging charm from of it that jeno hadn’t noticed before, and your small smile - the one you had just for yourself

jeno was sure his heart had made an extra loud thud in his chest,,,

“maybe you should convince jisung that you guys can go like,,,,pac men,,,,,or,,,,,,vampires?”

you said suddenly and jeno snapped into reality with a faint smile “ah,,,maybe”

you noticed the change of tone and check your time “it’s getting late, we should get to the train.”

jeno agreed and you two left the store, the guy at the entrance shot you a glare - probably angry about you two spending a good hour in there with nothing to show for it

but you and jeno just giggled to one and other

the train was even more crowded with people coming home from work, so you and jeno found yourselves closer than before

practically smushed against the pole you were holding onto,,,,,you each gave each other nervous glances and then chuckled

“do you want to go into art?”

you asked curiously, to try and ease the embarrassment of standing so close

“maybe,,,,,what about you?”

you told jeno of some of you dreams, noting how diligently he listened

again - you didn’t know how people thought he was detached, unapproachable ,,,, it just didn’t make sense

so you asked,,,, “why is your nickname cold manhwa prince?”

jeno blushed at the nickname, but also rolled his eyes “did jisung tell you that? ,,,, i don’t even know myself. i think im just,,,,”

he thought back to jaemin’s words “reserved?”

you made an oh sound and nodded, thinking about it till you heard that your stop would be the next

“well,,,i had fun with you today. i don’t think you’re cold at all,,,,” you said, the last part a little bit quietly

jeno felt that loud thump in his chest again

you were so close so he could hear you, but he could also smell the scent of your hair, feel your elbow against his

“i had fun too,,” he added and the door signaled that they were opening

you pushed past the crowd and heard faintly that jeno said goodbye

when you were out on the platform, you couldn’t see him through the sea of people but you waved anyway

the warm feeling of his arm pressed against yours followed you the whole way home

the next day in school you had art again, and unlike usual you set up your spot near jeno

he seemed both shocked and happy that you did,,, the rest of the class just exchanged whispers and wide eyes

but you didn’t care, you and jeno talked easily

he made a comment about how he’s never had someone in art class to chat with and you just gave him a silly thumbs up “im that person then!”

over the course of the week, you and jeno grew closer and you’d even had lunch with him and his friends

jisung had looped an arm around you and went “jeno has never made a friend on his own - you are a REAL gem”

haechan had chewed his food slowly and leaned over to jeno “a friend? or is it something more?”

jeno bit back his tongue and the table turned to face him,,,,you almost dropped your chopsticks

sensing the tension, renjun coughed “pass me your leftover rice chenle you ate too much already.”

but even with the distraction,,,the thought crossed your mind,,,,what did you think of jeno? and what did he think of you?

the night of halloween,,,,you found out

because instead of going to a party being thrown at some students house with his friends, jeno had asked to meet you in the city

you were waiting outside of the train when someone tapped your shoulder and you turned to see jeno,,,,

but instead of his uniform he was wearing a cheap gold crown and a cape of red velvet

“im the cold hearted manhwa prince” he said with a straight face and then burst into laughter

you joined him only to stop and point to the fake horns on your head “a demon,,,,,,,,,the pre-calculs demon if you would” you joked, knowing jeno hated that subject

he made a fake gagging noise and you asked finally why you were here

“i want to go to the party, i want you to come to.”

you blinked,,,,you’d love to go by why hadn’t he just asked over text

jeno seemed to stutter a moment and then added “i want you to come,,,,,as my date,,,,if that’s ok?”

you felt the world freeze for a second,,,,date,,,jeno’s,,,date?

but before you could think of what to say your head was nodding - because of course,,,,,of course you liked jeno,,,

how could you not like him? not after seeing him in that art room, a glow like an angels halo around him

not after laughing with him in the halloween store

not after watching the boy everyone said you couldn’t even be friends with open himself up in front of you

your hand felt nothing but perfect when it held onto jeno’s

and at the party you were greeted with other students staring at you two in awe while haechan slid down the handle of the stairway, messy blood painted over his collar and fake fangs crooked in his mouth, “i called it! i knew they’d fall in love! congratulations to your first day~~ a halloween anniversary!!” he laughed and vanished into the crowd

the rest of jeno’s friends reacted more or less without surprise, renjun said he knew jeno was in love. he was smiling more.

dating jeno,,,,was like opening a new chapter in a book because there is so much more to him than what you see

the love of art, the cute laughter, the serious work ethic, the easily flushed red embarrassment,,,,all of that was just the icing on the cake

the actual jeno was even a little clumsy, a complete nerd who housed one piece figures over his desk, could play guitar and had the voice of an angel

better yet, you found out about his chocolate sweet tooth and highscore on literally every mobile game you ever knew off

“i didn’t know i was dating a gamer,,,” you joked seeing him beat yet another level of some game on his phone

he stuck his tongue out and asked if you were going to finish your chocolate shake

you laughed and held the straw out for him “here you go, cold manhwa prince”

he scrunched up his nose “not you too,,,,jisung never lets me live already,,,,,”

your first official date after the halloween party ,,,, which btw you would have kissed at if chenle hadn’t walked in on you two,, was sitting in the library bookshelves afterschool watching ‘howls moving castle’ on a borrowed laptop

you had been shocked that jeno never watched it seeing as he liked animated movies, but then you’d leaned against his shoulder and woke up to your head in his lap while jeno sketched some doodles on his notebook

you’d sat up, completely embarrassed but jeno just showed you the little doodle

it was of you snoozing, a big air bubble coming out of your nose

you playfully pouted and he’d ruffled your hair - it was nice,,,,it was warm

sometimes you watch jeno sketch,,,,you might do it between studying or listening to music,,,,,but seeing him at work is so relaxing

he looks serious - but not cold,,,,,,,just hardworking and admirable

jeno has sketched you,,,,but you don’t know because he’s too shy to show you

(of course haechan knows about this and pesters jeno about possibly gifting them to you one day,,,,,but jeno keeps saying he has no idea what haechan is talking about)

but also you know when to let jeno have space,,,you don’t hover and you let him be alone with just paint and paper,,,,jeno is so thankful for that

you guys both are kind of new to dating ,,, so when jisung asks to see your couple shirts or rings or phonecases you just stare at him

and he orders you to to go down to the shopping distract and pick something out that matches

you end up getting charms of jeno’s favorite anime character,,,,,it’s corny but,,,,,,,jisung accepts it

but texts jeno like ‘get them an actual present next time!’

sometimes you and him meet up to go to the museum and jeno tells you which artists he’s grown to like,,,,sometimes - like most highschoolers - you end up spending more time in the gift shop than the museum

you start saving up to buy jeno some fancy brushes which when you gift him makes him a stuttering mess and he apologizes for the price and you’re like no no it’s ok

you learn he likes cats,,,even with an allergy,,,,,so you guys just coo at them from petshop windows

jeno wants to kiss you one night,,,as you’re taking the subway home and it’s just you two in the corner seats

but you get up too fast and he misses, falling first into the seat were you were just sitting

“are you ok??” you asked, hurrying toward the door. he waves it off and then spends the rest of the ride telling himself he’s got to get it together

when he does kiss you ,,,,, for the first time,,,, it’s because you’re both are trying to take a cute couple photo for jeno’s instagram

it’s near the big christmas tree they have up at the mall

and as he has his hand out with the camera, you try to focus on it and smile but then right before you know it - he leans in

and with his free hand cupping your cheek he kisses you,,,,

the sound of the camera click breaks you out of your dream like state and when you pull back you touch your lips

“did,,,,,did you just?”

he grins sheepishly and looks at the camera preview,,,,,, “it’s blurry should we do it agai-”

you beat him to it, putting both hands on his face and kissing him agai

he tastes a little minty,,,,,it’s nice and you feel like you could kiss him forever

jeno feels the same way about you

the amount of times you’ve had talk jeno out of wanting to get a pokemon tattooed on him later in life is: too many

when jeno throws away a sketch he did in frustration, you always get really sad - sometimes you pick them up and you have some hanging on your wall

which jeno tells you you don’t have to do,,,he’ll give you some of his better ones but you say that these are just as good

when jeno calls jaemin to tell him about you,,,,he can almost hear jaemin smiling on the other line

“see, you’re not cold. you’re just reserved, but it sounds like you let th right person in.”

jeno lets you wear his sweaters 100% and then he grins to himself when the sleeves are too long on you

people in school still can’t believe it’s true, not until you and jeno are walking hand in hand out the gate and even though he tried to hide it

his kiss on your forehead basically made everyone in your grade swoon

you guys don’t do a lot of pda,,,,,,but jisung still makes faces when you drop by jeno’s class to give him a snack or just tlak

and jisung is like “ugh,,,i can feel the love and it’s crawling all over my uniform!!” ,,,,, you and jeno ignore him and chenle just goes “its cuz you’re jealous bro”

jeno once tells you his favorite season is winter, when you ask why he lists off a couple of basic things: the pretty snow, the holiday cheer, the sweaters

but then he looks at you and smiles mysteriously, you ask what it is

“i think i might change my favorite season to fall though,,,,”

“why?”

“because that’s when i met you.”

#im like.....actually proud of this one just a little bit!!!!#jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct scenarios #nct imagines #jeno au #nct dream au #highschool!au #lee jeno #nct dream #sfw

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