#i just think its neat because you never expect to end up near the guy yknow???

[andysorbit]

Everywhere, Everywhere

Minors DNI

Sub!Renjun x top, black, fem!reader

Warnings: subby vibes, fluffy vibes, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, overstimulation, Renjun is a fkn lil guy

♡♡♡♡

The first time you see Renjun is at a party Mark throws and it's the particular way his eyes light up when you look at him. You're not usually into parties but he made you really happy that you decided to show up. "I- um... you're Mark's friend? I'm his friend too uh... I'm Renjun." He says. His cheeks are rosy and you think he's drunk but Jesus, he's so pretty and his smile is too shy for his own good. Gentle. Pretty. Shy. Warm. Those are the words that come to you as you converse with Renjun. His laughter, his voice, the way he leans into you to show you photos from an art gallery he went to a few days earlier. He's the sweetest drunk boy you've ever met.

The next time you see Renjun is in the Sears that's going out of business in a month. His long dark hair is partially dyed silver beneath. He has knick-knacks and sweaters in a clear, giant reusable shopping back and when he sees you, he waves and smiles so big that it's like watching the sunrise. He's beautiful. "Y/n! Hey!" He says sweetly. You two shop together and you learn that he likes clutter items because his parents were neat freaks and liked everything in its place. He overshares a bit but you don't mind because you'll never repeat anything he says to anyone else. He likes that you remember things as he tells you and when you mention those things, he beams because his parents weren't big on talking or listening so he learned to be his own company. He tells you how shy he used to be and how he's gotten so much more social since he's been on his own and how his therapist told him that he should start doing the things that his parents had told him wouldn't benefit him. You listen and you agree because his therapist is right. You're glad he's coming out of his own head and you're glad that he's happy. He asks you for your phone number and says he looks forward to talking with you more.

You see Renjun again at a red light a week later and it's cold and rainy. He waves to you and you both roll your windows down to greet each other. You both just so happen to be going to the same sushi bar near the docks. You both park your cars and when you get out, you embrace in the rain and his hugs are even warmer than his smile. He hugs you like he means it and it's strong but gentle and when you separate, he smiles again, "It's so nice to see you." He says. "Likewise." You reply. You talk over sushi and cheap beer and he's funny. You share stories about growing up, college, and how different life is from what you both expected it to be. You learn that Renjun wanted to be a veterinarian but somehow ended up working as a DJ for a local station. You promise to listen to his show every morning. When you finish eating, Renjun asks you if you want to ride with him further down the docks to look at the water and of course you do because this night could last forever as long as you're with him. When he parks his car, he turns to look at you, "I come down here a lot. It's quiet and the water is really beautiful." He says. "I used to come down here a lot but then I kinda just stopped one day. I wish I hadn't stopped. So much has changed down here and it's really cool." You say. He nods, "Maybe we can come down here together? It gets lonely sometimes." You sit in silence for a while and watch the waves dash back and forth. Renjun reaches over and takes your hand in his. It isn't like he's trying to be suave or seductive. It's just a gesture and it feels nice. It feels comforting and you think that maybe he just doesn't have the words to tell you that he likes this time your're sharing. "You know, I um... just go with me on this for a minute, okay?" He pipes up nervously. "Hm?" You say. "I wanna kiss you and I kinda feel like you wanna kiss me but I could be wrong? Am I wrong?" He babbles. You kiss him and he sighs as he melts into you. It's sweet and warm and his hands come up to touch your face. He kisses you with that same sincerity he has when he held your hand and you feel him etch his initials into your spirit.

You see Renjun more and more until finally, he invites you to his apartment for a sleepover and when you arrive at his door with your overnight bag, he beams with excitement. He can't cook so he orders pizza and you drink partially frozen red wine that he had put in his freezer at the last minute and forgotten about. He's nervous and it's obvious but he pushes through it. "I um... we can share my bed or you can have my bed and I can sleep on the couch." He says as he reaches for your discarded pizza crust. "I'm not gonna make you sleep on the couch, Renjun. That's crazy." You laugh. He blushes and looks away, "So you'll sleep with me in my bed then." After you clean up from dinner and get ready for bed. Renjun browses movies to watch and you both agree on Open Season. He's never seen it and you love it so it's perfect. You snuggle into each other and the movie is better than you remember it being because his laughter makes it even better.

As the end credits roll, he turns to you and laughs, "I think I'd like to watch this again tomorrow." He says. "We can watch it while we have breakfast." You chuckle. He kisses you and it feels different. It's more demanding and a little less gentle but it feels wonderful. Renjun pulls away and you see the conflict in his eyes. "Are you okay?" You ask him. He smiles sheepishly and presses his lips to yours again, "I'm... I've never um... gone this far. I want it though... fuck." He whispers and his hands slide up your pajama top. "Me too... I want it- I mean... I've done this before. Not a lot though." You ramble. For the first time, you look him in his pretty eyes and you're nervous. "I don't care. It's okay. Let's do it then... you take the lead." He says softly against your lips and he's so warm. His hand reaches out for yours and he brings it to his chest. There's something he's not saying and you're scared to read him wrong. "Please... just... touch me." He whispers. You reach out to palm him and he writhes against your touch, "Please, Y/n." He begs. You sit up on your haunches and he tugs down his pants. He blushes as his dick falls heavily against his stomach and you need so badly to tell him how gorgeous he is. So you do. It tumbles out of your mouth clumsily and his breath catches in his throat, "Say it again? Please?" He whimpers and you wrap your hand around his leaking cock. He moans and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever heard. "You're gorgeous, Renjun. Really you are." You tell him softly and he kisses you again. You break the kiss and pull back to watch his face as you stroke him. "Y/n... oh... oh God, yes." He whimpers and you smile because you know he's close. His hair falls into his face and he grips the sheets tightly as you bring him closer and closer. "Cum for me, baby." You whisper as you catch his lips against yours with a soft kiss. He whimpers and releases as you continue milking him. You're really taking a chance on this but somehow you already have a feeling that Renjun loves this just based alone on how he doesn't even try to push your hand away. "Yes, yes, yes... oh fuck... fuck! Please- I- fuck!" He babbles desperately. He bucks his hips and you keep going, "Does that feel good?" You ask him. He looks at you and his teary eyes pierce yours, "Don't stop... please, please, Y/n... do it again." You feel your insides swell with pride as he gazes at you like you're the center of his universe and he cums once more.

You kiss him and he falls back and thumps his head against his headboard and he laughs. "Ouch." He says with a whine, "I'm not done... I just... I need a minute." You lay next to him and smile, "Take your time." You tell him. When he catches his breath, he sits back up and tackles you onto your side, "Can I?" He asks you as he dips his fingers into your shorts. "Yeah." You sigh. He wastes no time sliding his hand into your shorts and slipping them past your folds. "You're so wet." He moans. He pulls his hand out and slides his fingers into his mouth with a satisfied hum before going back into your shorts. You writhe as he rubs your clit slowly. "Please... tell me you like it. I wanna hear you say it, Y/n. Am I doing it right?" He almost begs you. You place your hand over his, "You're doing so good, baby. You feel so good." You moan. Renjun blushes again and slows down his pace, "How about now?" He asks playfully. "Renjun, be good." You say softly. His eyes perk up and he quickens his pace, "Can I fuck you?" "Are you gonna be a good boy?" You ask him teasingly. He nods, "Uh huh. I'll be good." He groans as he takes your shorts off and then his own. "I want you under me." You tell him as you push him onto his back and climb on top of him. You sink down on him and he whines, "God, you feel so good." It floats past his lips so sweetly and you ride him gently as you watch his pretty face contort in pleasure. It doesn't take him long to get close again and you pull away from him and stroke him. "I want you to cum." He whispers and as you stroke him, he strokes you. You both release together and he presses his forehead to yours, "Thank you." He pants. "Thank you." You chuckle.

When Renjun invites you out to go to the mall, you're more than happy to agree. Work has had you both a bit caught up so there isn't much time for anything more than morning and evening texts and voice notes. When you get into the mall, Renjun is seated on a bench near the water fountain. He pops up and you two embrace as you always do. This time, he presses a soft kiss to your lips. It's a wonderful gesture considering he's expressed his disdain for public intimacy. "Come on, I wanted to buy us matching bracelets." He tells you and takes your hand. As you walk into Spencer's, he leads you to the jewelry, "Which one do you like the best?" He asks. Your eyes roam over bracelets and land on a rack with bracelets adorned with initials. You find one for your initial and one for Renjun's. He smiles. "I feel special." You chuckle. "You are." He replies. You watch his eyes wander past you and he blushes. It's his signature brand. He's almost always very forward with you but his shy demeanor makes even his most brazen acts as sweet as sugar. You turn to follow his gaze and you see the collars. "Do you want one?" You ask, "Pick one out and I'll buy it for you." He shakes his head, "You pick it. I'll like whatever you get." He tells you softly. You bring him over to the rack and he fidgets eagerly. You browse for a minute and see one that you're almost positive he's been staring at. It's lavender and it has one word etched across the front:

SLUT

Renjun gasps when you take it off the rack, "This one?" You ask him coolly. He nods. "Let's get something else." You say and lead him to the back of the store. The forbidden adult area is laden with its usual toys, costumes, cuffs, and everything else that made you giggle as a teen. He trails close behind you. "Do you see anything you like?" You ask him. He licks his lips and swallows thickly, "Um... no judgment?" He asks softly. You shake your head, "No, babe. No judgment." You assure him. He steps closer to the displays and reaches for a plug, "This, please." He says and hands it to you. It's silver and blue. "It's pretty." You say to him, "Anything else?" You ask as you gesture to the vibrators and dildos. "I have my favorites at home already. Do you wanna come home and see?" He says with a hint of a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his pretty mouth. "Oh hell yeah." You laugh. You take his hand and head to check out. You know you'll be spending the night with him again and you hope that he's ready to open up about what you already suspect to be true.

♡♡♡♡

Part 2 is already in my drafts but I gotta finish my requests and part 2 of Sober.

Also please gimme some love because writing dom!reader is so fkn hard I was sweating

#neoculturecollectives #nct smut #kpop smut #nct #renjun #nct ambw #nct dream smut #renjun smut #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours

[cuteejeno]

That one phone call - hrj

Sypnosis: You and Renjun have a long distance relationship. One night, Renjun called you and what you heard was not what you expected.

Pairings: Renjun x reader

tw: trust issues, cheating but not rlly (i think thats it!)

Genre: angst and fluff

A/n: Hey guys Im back! its been awhile but I wrote this au months ago I just got the time to post it. Sorry! xoxo, cuteejeno

requests are open!

You and Renjun have a long distance relationship. Renjun has to go to NYU for college while you attend a college near your hometown, so you guys only contact each other through the screen.

You guys thought it was a piece of cake because you could still see each other, but your schedules kept getting in the way and you ended up with apologies for not contacting each other, etc.

One night, Renjun told you he would be going to a party, so your call would be delayed. When you were studying, Renjun called you, and it was already midnight. You picked up the call, but it wasn't Renjun who was on the phone, but a girl's voice saying sweet words to Renjun. You dropped your phone while tears ran down your cheeks.

The next day, Renjun called you a couple of times, but you never answered any of them. Renjun and his friends called and texted you, saying he was trying to reach you, but you ignored them all. Next week is spring break, which means Renjun will be coming home. Both of your parents have decided to rent an Airbnb by the sea so that you all can rest.

Renjuns' parents and your parents planned a trip to celebrate your guys' coming home. Finally, that day came. You arrived at the airbnb, and you can hear the waves splash.

“A home away from home.” The view was amazing.

Renjun’s mother opened the door before you even knocked. “Y/n! It’s so nice to finally meet you again; you guys hugged, and you saw your parents coming to the door as well. “Honey! Welcome back! It’s so nice to see you again. How was college? Also, where's Renjun? "I assumed you were going to be here together." Right. You forgot to tell your parents that you both had a fight, or, should I say, broke up? You didn’t really want to ruin the celebration they'd been planning for weeks.

“Oh, well, um, his flight got delayed, I guess." "Oh, no wonder. Well, then, we’ll be out here in the living room and talk with the Huang family." "Go unpack and rest for awhile before Renjun arrives.” Your parents bid you goodbye while you went to your room.

Your room was very cozy. You unpacked and laid in the bed. “This is nice.”

You were starting to get a little drowsy when your mother called you. “Honey! Renjun’s here!” Your eyes went wide, and your heart started to beat fast. You missed Renjun and wanted to hug him, but then you remembered what he had done to you. 

You stood up and went to the living room. As soon as you went to the living room, there he was, standing with his eyes sparkling. Oh, you missed him. He cut his hair short, which is really nice and neat. He was hugging your parents, and as soon as you both saw each other, you thought time had stopped.

Renjun hugged you like there was no tomorrow. “I’ve missed you,” he said, then hugged you tightly. Renjun noticed you not moving, and you didn’t hug him back. “We’ll be in the kitchen to prepare for dinner. "We will call you guys if it’s done," said both your parents and Renjun's parents, who then went off to the kitchen to leave you two some company to catch up. Or so they thought.

Your eyes were watering, and your hands were in fists. Renjun noticed this and held both your hands, but you refused.

“Y/N, what's going on?" I came home to spend some time with you, and you won’t even return my calls and messages. You know how worried I was? "Did I do something?” Renjun was making eye contact with you while your eyes were wandering off.

You felt a soft and gentle hand lift up your chin and say, “Y/N, look at me when we talk," and you saw it. His eyes, the way they twinkle with sadness. 

“There's no need to talk about it,” you told him, and he was going to speak back, but Mrs. Huang, Renjun's mom, called both of you.

“Come eat! Dinners ready” 

When you were about to go, you felt something grab your wrist. “We’re not done yet. "Let's talk about this later." You felt shivers go down your spine. Renjun whispered to you so close that you could feel his breath on you.

—————————————————

Your parents bid you goodnight and went to their room. As you were about to go to bed, renjun opened the door to your shared room. “What are you—“ 

“your mom said she accidentally booked a 3 bedroom airbnb instead of 4. But i can sleep on the couch if you want. I’m okay with it” 

“No, it’s fine; you can sleep here.” You then proceeded to mind your own business and prepare your space on the left side of the bed.

Even if you hated Renjun, there's no way you’re letting him sleep on the couch. The main reason is that your guys' parents might suspect something, so you have no choice.

“y/n can you please talk to me? It’s like theres a barrier between us. We promised each other to not let go but why do I feel like you don’t love me anymore?” You both made eye contact and you can see he’s holding back his tears.

You felt your heart clench. Why do you feel like you're the one who’s at fault here? Why does it feel like you’re the guilty one? All you did was do your job as a girlfriend. You’re not the one who cheated.

“Do you really wanna know why I’m like this? Do you honestly have no idea what you did at that party you went?”

“y/n I—“ Renjun tried to reach your hand.

“NO. I am not done. For god’s sake, Renjun! I trusted you. You know I have trust issues. You know how hard it is for me to trust anyone. Why did you have to break my trust for you? "Why did you have to... kiss that girl?” You felt tears running down your cheeks. Your heart clenched so tight that you almost couldn’t breathe. All those nights of overthinking.

“It’s nothing like that, y/n. Please! I-I was drunk at that time. That girl was the one who kissed me..I pushed her away after that. Please believe me..y/n” 

you broke down as you didn’t know what to do anymore. You closed your eyes trying to think of something but then you felt arms wrap around you. 

“I’m sorry y/n..I’m sorry for hurting you and breaking your trust..please forgive me” Renjun hugged you tighter and it felt comforting. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his cuddles.

“I don’t know what I was gonna do. “I shouldn’t have ignored you but to talk to you about it properly”

Renjun placed both of his hands on your cheek. “No don’t be sorry. You have every right to be mad at me. I love you, y/n”

“I love you too, Renjun” you felt soft lips touch yours and your eyes fluttered close and both of you kissed slowly and passionately. It’s like you have all the time in the world.

a/n: ㅠㅠ i hope you enjoy reading this renjun fic! Ik the story goes by fast (I hate the ending) 😬 but do let me know if you have any ideas that i could write an au abt :)) I was gonna make this longer but I’m so busy I’m sorry! 

#renjun #renjun x reader #renjun angst #nct dream #renjun imagines #renjun fluff #renjun drabbles #renjun x y/n #renjun oneshots #nct fanfic #nct angst

[ashwilliam]

love it when someone in a horror film flips the radio/tv channel away from a report on the guy who's gonna kill them

#i just think its neat because you never expect to end up near the guy yknow??? #lucien.txt #1k

[streaming-yn]

Hiya there! I really like your writing and was wondering if you could write something where forgetful y/n meets Technoblade- and also- can I be 🏹 anon if its not taken? :D

yeah yeah!! I don't know if you meant c!forgetful!y/n and c!techno or cc!both and I kinda like the heads of both soo ,, I did both !! I hope that's cool w you !!! n ofc, welcome to the crew 🏹 anon :)

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7

part doesn't look like a real word anymore

pairing (platonic); c!forgetful!y/n x c!techno , forgetful!y/n x (cc!)techno

warnings; dark humor (punting kids, killing, hitman stuff, stuff along those lines!!)

Characters

met bc you're ranboo's sibling !! :)

you were looking for ranboo but couldn't find him (he was hanging out with techno) so you sent him a text on the communicator (whispering) to ask

him, being the protective brother (in lore, the world it's tons more dangerous and he knows) he is, he didn't really think and sent you his coords and said he'll be near there, he's hanging out with someone

he didn't specify who exactly he was with so you were like oh ok be there in a bit

you go the coords and see them through the trees, techno's pink and red colors pallet and ranboo's black half and tux standing out against the snow

immediately you're still, if you move they might hear you – techno might hear you, you look for a bit, going through a back and fourth in your head was what you were going to tell him actually worth what might happen if techno didn't like you? it's not necessarily important information, you just wanted someone to talk to about what you talked with Tommy about today and your brother was your closest friend – tommy tied for first place with him but talking to tommy about what you and tommy spoke about? that's be weird. you really want to talk now, so you don't forget, and your not the best with holding in stuff without snapping at people who don't deserve it

so you decide to go on anyways. he wouldn't hate you, right? you're not really on a side, you're more of a middle ground type of person so you're not connected to the government so he wouldn't hate you, right? and even if he did; your brother would never let him kill you; you reasoned with yourself, happy with the resolve you start forward towards them

thank God for your naturally quiet and agile movements, they would've noticed you before you were ready otherwise, you made it halfway to them and decided to make a little bit of noise so they wouldn't pull weapons as soon as you were right next to them

you threw a snowball at a tree causing both boys to turn and see you wave "hi! just wanted to talk with ranboo"

"well I'm talking to him, about something rather serious too, so leave." "okay so? I want to talk to my brother so why don't you leave?"

talking like this with the blood god was extremely risky, but you're also not the most well known for having smart, thought out decisions. in other words; you don't really think before talking, which can be both good and bad

people admire the honesty and what they believe is guts (it's not, you just don't have cognitive filters), on the other hand, though, it can, and will (and definitely has) land you in a world of hurt

ranboo's looking between you two anxiously, eyes showing obvious worry that this will escalate to a battle

as the piglin hybrid looked down at you like you were dirt under his boot you glared right back up at him, matching the energy he gave, as you grabbed ranboo's hand and started to drag him away

ranboo turned around to look at techno and waved "oh- uh- I guess we can talk some other time!", techno grumbled at that

though later he did let himself laugh about it, someone who looked quiet not being afraid to match his energy was amusing itself, but pair that with you dragging your brother along, not being careful of his foot placement causing him to almost fall many times and it makes it funnier

when he spoke to you again, it was clear neither of you held any grudges or anything but the "oh my god I hate you and we're literally enemies" bit continued, but it was obvious it was just y'all's dynamic

fans were in love with that dynamic and adored making art (comics, drawings, fics, animations, etc) of it :)

and despite everything the friendship and dynamic stayed the same, making fans cry

fans often worried about what would happen to y'all, because nothing in the dsmp stays the same – something bad always has to happen

quite a few ",,, what's gonna happen to c!techno and c!y/n's dynamic... something bad has to happen right? it's been good for way too long" tweets and most of the replies consist of "if something happens I'm blaming you" or "if anything happens I'm coming back with a bat" (both jokes ofc)

haha,, something bad eventually does happen but that's for a different time o/ (dw abt requesting for it! I already have a request where I plan to reveal it, however it will take a bit to get to, until then, enjoy the cliffhanger >:) )

content creators

immediately y'all match up on the same jokes and things!!

yk the thing like "wait, it's not what it looks like" "you kill people for money????" ".... .yeah" "and this whole time I've been doing it for free like a chum!!!"

that's y'all, you're the one who's doing it for free 💀

y'all met through the dsmp and started interacting so the lore won't be awkward and ended up becoming friends

(truth be told you were scared of him not liking you bc you were a fan of his content for some time now)

if you let him rant about Greek stories and such he'll let you rant about what you want to too

if you have any knowledge of old torture machines talk to him about it! like obviously torture is not good or anything but it's interesting to learn what happened in the past yk?

,,although maybe don't do that on stream-

I feel like after talking to techno for the first time and it going well you immediately go back to ranboo like "GUESS WHAT OMG"

"GUESS WHAT GUESS WHAT :DD" "Well, hello to you too" "But what's up?" "SCARY MAN THIUGHT I WAS OK 👍👍" "Who? Literally every new guy you meet is "scary man" to you" (/hj /lh) "TECHNOOO!!!!!" "That's awesome, man!! :D"

depending on how you react to jokes about punting kids he would end up making them more often around you bc he finds your reaction funny

if it's normal, you have no reaction, or just laugh in reply, he'll make them a normal amount most likely

if it's something along the lines of "NOOOO !!!!!" he's going to end up making them more, and out of the blue too

"so, you really went far in streaming so far?" "yeah! I think it's neat! I didn't expect to-" "almost as far as the kid I kicked-" "NO !!!!"

there are a lot of times where you have to clear up what is and isn't lore because y'all's dynamic is similar in and out of roleplay

also yk,, people are starved of and wanting c!y/n and c!techno interactions so they're trying to get the crumbs they can – it's actually really funny

taglist: @cvsmixplant @l0ver0fj0y @youngstarfishdinosaur @icarusthefoolish @ophelia-enthusiast @decay-as-a-life-form @xxtwizztedxx @akino-akina-writes @qrimbarkk @milkydisaster @xx-smiley-xx

#asked and answered #request #🏹 anon #new anon #technoblade x reader #techno x reader #platonic!reader #platonic fanfic #platonic x reader #platonic techno x reader #platonic technoblade x reader #mcyt x reader #streamer!au #streamer!reader #streamer!y/n #fanfic #headcanon #headcanons #writing #forgetful!y/n #forgetful!reader #forgetful! reader #forgetful! y/n #forgetful reader #forgetful y/n #series #c!techo x reader #c!technoblade x reader #c!reader #c!techno x c!reader

[cinnaminsvga]

Sweeter than Strawberries | Jungkook

→ summary: at euphoria bakery, seasonal changes also bring seasonal menu items. when you find out that your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake was phased out after the end of summer, it takes only one puppy eyed look from you for jeon jungkook to make it for you anyway—just don’t tell his boss about it, alright?

→ genre: bakery!au, s2l, fluff → warnings: none unless you count the fact that i’m writing shy!jungkook again :^D, we love mutual pining in this house ex dee → words: 4.5K → a/n: this was commissioned by @ihatemathanal​!! i was super stoked to write this bc it’s really cute and sometimes it’s nice to just write happy fluffy things every once in a while (aka zee is turning into a fluff writer jfc) it got a lil longer than it was supposed to, but that’s bc i got carried away lol anyway i hope you guys enjoy!! (ps: this also works for the bgw bingo so... tyg for s2l fics!! let’s get it!!)

For the most part, the beginning of autumn is usually your favorite time of the year. When the tree leaves begin to yellow and the air gains a significantly colder bite, this signifies the end of pit stains and sweaty thighs and the start of sweater paws and chapped lips. Above all, you are most excited, of course, for an excuse to gorge yourself on steaming mugs of hot chocolate, paired with delicious mountains of warm gooey brownies.

For the most part, these are all things that often get you excited for the coming chill. What you do not think to remember, however, is that while these seasonal changes bring more good than bad, there still remains a little snag: a small oversight, if you will. As businesses all over the world begin the annual transition to the colder months, so does your favorite bakery across the street from your university. After all, summer ingredients grow scarcer as the year nears its end, so it’s understandable for bakeries to switch up their menu to keep up with both the supply and demand.

What does any of this have to do with anything? Well, long story short—

Your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake is about to get phased out. No, scratch that—it’s already been phased out, right from under your very nose, no less!

You shouldn’t have been surprised, really. You have always known it was a specialty drink; your best friend had even been the one to introduce it to you just near the end of your summer classes:

“This is Euphoria Bakery,” Namjoon had said with a smile, waving cheerily at the two boys manning the till. You heard him chuckle in amusement when your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, staring longingly at the sweet treats and baked goods lining the display case.

Namjoon had stolen your attention away, however, when he pointed to the chalkboard menu on the wall. As it turned out, the bakery also doubled as a cafe, serving the usual coffees and teas while also making the occasional specialty drink for different seasons or holidays. The chalkboard was decorated beautifully, the menu items written out in neat cursive with tiny little doodles littering its margins. On one of the boards, there was a new drink item being advertised in bold pink letters—a great summer treat!—or so it said.

“Jungkook-ssi, can you get me and Y/N a strawberry shortcake milkshake? Extra whipped cream for me, please!” Namjoon called out to one of the boys, startling the younger of the two. The boy, Jungkook, must have been busy fiddling with the cash register that he hadn’t noticed your arrival.

“N-Namjoon-hyung? Sorry, I was just busy counting the money—” Jungkook stopped short in his speech, his tongue getting caught in his mouth when his eyes landed directly on you. He had made a strangled sound, like he had swallowed his spit too quickly and was struggling to regain his composure. “H-Hello?”

You realized belatedly that he must have been greeting you, as you had been distracted by his fidgetiness. His nervousness was cute, if a little bit contagious; you couldn’t help feeling anxious too, like your heart was missing every other beat, even though you had no reason to be. “Hello! My name is Y/N. It’s my first time coming here, but Namjoon says your new summer menu item is really good? I wanted to try it out for myself.”

Jungkook nodded, still staring wide-eyed at you as if in a trance. You expected him to start... well. You weren’t an expert on how bakeries or cafes are run, but you were pretty sure he should’ve started doing something after you had spoken, perhaps ring up your order on the register, or start working on your drinks. Instead, he’s still frozen in place, like he’d somehow short-circuited within the last two minutes.

It seemed you weren’t the only one who noticed his odd behavior because the man working with him suddenly pushed Jungkook to the side, a brief smirk flashing across his face before it was quickly replaced by a more subdued, professional smile.

“Sorry about him. He’s usually my best baker, but sometimes he can get a little... distracted when he’s confronted with sweet things,” the man said nonchalantly, but it seemed that his innocent-sounding comment had embarrassed Jungkook greatly.

“Jimin-hyung!” Jungkook whined, stomping his foot not unlike a bunny. If you squinted a little bit, you could definitely see the resemblance.

Namjoon, who had been quietly watching everything unfold, chose that moment to pipe up. “Oh, I see. I didn’t know you had a type, but after thinking about it—” Namjoon shot a surreptitious glance at you, before turning back to Jungkook with a teasing grin, “—I can definitely see why.”

At the time, you had no idea what was going on, mostly confused as to why Jungkook had suddenly become so red-faced while Namjoon and Jimin giggled like a couple of high school girls. It seemed like you were somehow the main reason for his embarrassment, so you were quick to poke Namjoon in the stomach, effectively silencing him.

“Hey! Stop teasing the poor boy. He’s just being nice,” you said, pointing a soft smile back at Jungkook. “Sorry about him. I’m sure you’re an excellent baker, judging from how wonderful and cute all these cakes on the display look.” Somehow, your praise had only made Jungkook’s cheeks brighten even further. He cleared his throat as if to say something in response, before changing his mind and scuttling away to the back room instead.

“I’m going to start making your milkshake! D-don’t mind me!” He called out from behind the door, causing Jimin to finally break down into raucous giggles, nearly doubling over from his own mirth.

“Aish, that kid. He never learns, huh…” Jimin sighed, but the smile on his face is kind—the sort of fond look an older brother might have for his kid brother. He turned back to you and Namjoon with that lingering softness as he rang the two of you up, before chatting idly with you as you waited for Jungkook to finish making your drinks.

“I’ve never seen you around, Y/N-ssi. Jungkook—sorry, I meant I definitely would’ve noticed you if I did. You go to the same university as Namjoon-ssi, right?” Jimin asked, flipping a pen between his fingers with incredible dexterity. You were slightly distracted by that, faintly jealous of how his short fingers could somehow manage such a feat.

“I—yeah, I do. I’m assuming you’re also a student?”

“Yep. I actually met Namjoon-ssi when we took that one music theory class together. I was handing out flyers for this bakery after class and he happened to be one of the first people to actually come,” he said, winking at Namjoon. You watched with much interest when your friend turned a faint shade of pink, his hand coming up behind his neck—a signature tick of his whenever he was feeling shy or nervous.

“I-It was nothing… I mean, your seasonal drinks are always so good! I remember your old snowman-shaped donuts with the raspberry filling? I still dream of it sometimes,” Namjoon sighed, eyes going glassy for a moment.

Jimin laughed, his eyes crinkling into cute little crescents. “Oh, stop it! I remember how you’d come here even after we stopped serving that donut and you’d beg us to make them again.”

“And yet you never did, even though I know you have the ingredients to make them,” Namjoon pouted, but there’s endearment dancing in his expression.

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “I never pegged Namjoon as a sweet-tooth guy, so this is honestly all a very big surprise to me. I should be pumped for this milkshake then, huh? Hopefully, you aren’t just hyping it up and I’ll end up disappointed.”

Before either Namjoon or Jimin could retort, Jungkook had reappeared from the back room with two large cups in hand, almost tripping over his untied apron string but managing to get to the counter in one piece.

“Here you go. I hope you won’t be disappointed when you try it,” he said, gaze averted downwards when he hands you your cup. Your fingers grazed each other for a second, nearly causing both of you to drop the drink like it was on fire.

“S-sorry,” you laughed it off, feeling your ears get a little red from your blunder. You pointedly ignored Namjoon’s arched brow, no doubt enjoying your sudden shyness. Without waiting for him to get his own cup, you casually tear off the straw wrapper and take your first sip of the drink.

“So?” Jungkook asked after a while, watching with bated breath as you take a good gulp of the milkshake. “How is it? Is it worth the hype?” You don’t speak for a moment, further aggravating the two bakers as you carefully chewed on the bits of strawberry in the drink.

“This—” you said, speaking slowly for increased dramatic effect. You could hear Namjoon groan beside you, used to your need for unnecessary anticipation. Even as you paused for a moment longer, you could already feel the smile creeping up your face, unable to completely hide your giddiness. “—is fantastic. Show-stopping. Best thing since sliced bread! I could live on this shit alone.”

Jungkook released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, chuckling in relief as you began to completely devour the treat in mere minutes. “I’m… really glad you like it,” he said with a wide, toothy grin. You were so immersed in your drink that you missed the way he sighed softly, hand gently cradling his chest where his heart would be.

Namjoon had taken his own sip as well, sighing dreamily as the creamy and sweet flavor overtook his palate. “Truly the best drink in existence. If I was a Twitch streamer or some shit, I’d promote this regularly for free.”

His comment made Jimin giggle softly, but his gaze is trained on something else entirely. “I’m flattered, but maybe don’t promote Y/N’s cup, over here. We don’t typically have strawberries and hearts doodled all over our cups,” he said, smirking slyly.

Lo and behold, your cup did have small doodles littering its sides whereas Namjoon’s was just a plain white paper cup. “Oh,” you said, blushing furiously when you finally noticed. Your flush was nothing compared to the one on Jungkook’s cheeks, however. The two of you refused to make eye contact after that, both of you trying (and failing) to silence the amused snickers of your respective friends.

Despite that slightly embarrassing (and heartwarming) experience, that had marked the start of your love for the tiny bakery and their special strawberry shortcake milkshake. You returned to Euphoria Bakery as often as you could throughout the summer, even going to visit it without Namjoon most of the time. You would even occasionally go out of your way to visit the bakery, even after your summer classes had ended and there was really no reason for you to be around the area.

It also didn’t hurt that the boy behind the counter was especially cute, with his big doe eyes and melodic laughter that always got your heart beating erratically in your chest. It hadn’t taken long for you to admit to yourself that you had a not-so-tiny crush and every visit to the bakery only made you fall deeper for him.

Namjoon has assured you that Jungkook clearly has a crush on you too, but you’re quick to shut him down. It is one thing to be shy and awkward around a girl and another to have a crush on the aforementioned girl. As you visited the bakery more and more, you do notice that Jungkook is more reserved when it comes to other female clientele, although, dare you hope? He does seem a little bit more… nervous, when he talks to you, but that could be your lovesick eyes playing tricks on you.

Never mind the fact that he only ever seems to leave cute doodles on your cups alone, but that could just be a coincidence, right? After all, he can hardly hold a conversation with you when you try to speak with him, always eager to rush to the backroom to make your drink.

Your visits usually consist of making idle chit chat with Jimin after greeting both him and Jungkook. The younger boy often dips the moment he sees you through the glass door, automatically going to prepare your favorite summer treat without even having to ask for your order. He never stays to stick around long enough to make conversation, as he eventually excuses himself to do some chore or another. During one of your trips, you tentatively asked Jimin if Jungkook was avoiding you, to which the blonde boy just laughed heartily at your query.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. He’ll come around eventually; he’s just nervous. Don’t tell him I told you this, but…” he trails off, peeking over his shoulder to make sure Jungkook wouldn’t accidentally overhear him. When he turns back to you, the smirk on his face is equal parts amused and mischievous. He looks a little impish, though you aren’t sure if he’d take that too kindly. “Jungkook always stares out the door, waiting for you to arrive. I’ve caught him red-handed far too many times for it to be a coincidence.”

Your cheeks flush warmly at his words but don’t say anything after that. You suppose all you can do is wait for him to start warming up to you eventually, and you hope the day comes sooner as the summer days grow shorter and shorter.

Of course, that day does come eventually, but probably not on the day you wished it would happen.

Like all good things, summer comes to its close and so does the summer menu options offered at Euphoria Bakery. Jimin had already told you a week beforehand that your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake would get phased out as soon as July hit, but you refused to listen. You had hoped that as his regular customer and friend, perhaps Jimin would make an exception and prolong the milkshake’s lifetime for your sake, but it seems that Jimin has made it clear that friendship and business are two separate entities that he will not allow to coincide.

“Please Jimin? Just one more time? I’ll even settle for a small size,” you beg, your entire body draped over the cashier counter like the pathetic plebeian that you are. Thankfully, since you have made it a habit to pass by the bakery when it’s close to closing time, there aren’t any other patrons left to judge your pitiful display. Unthankfully, that also means Jimin is free to flick you on the forehead with no holds barred, leaving a large red welt where his finger hits.

“I already told you that I won’t budge, not even if you licked my Balenciagas. Besides, we’re out of strawberries anyway.” Jimin huffs, rolling his eyes at your pained whines as you grasp your head in agony. “Oh stop it, will you? I didn’t even hit you that hard.”

“I beg to differ, hyung.” Jungkook pipes up, startling both you and Jimin. Jungkook is usually content to wiping down the glass displays or tables while he passively listens to the two of you bicker, humming occasionally to indicate that he’s still listening, so it comes as a small surprise whenever he does decide to speak up. He must have noticed this too, as his ears quickly begin to redden as he scrambles to finish his sentence. “I-I mean, hyung might have small hands, but his finger flicks are no joke. You could break someone’s skull with that thing.”

“Who are you calling small, huh?” Jimin growls, but the playful smirk on his face tells you that he’s just teasing. He pulls Jungkook in a headlock, who surprisingly doesn’t seem all that bothered by the fact that Jimin is actively trying to block his windpipe with his strong forearms. “Take it back!”

“Never,” Jungkook wheezes, effortlessly removing himself from Jimin’s grip. He dusts himself off, not even breathless. “Also, why’d you lie to Y/N like that? We still have strawberries in the back. How else would we make our strawberry jam tarts?”

Jimin squawks indignantly, folding his arms. “How dare you sell out our company secrets! I could fire you for that!”

Jungkook scoffs, bumping Jimin with his hip. Jungkook must also not know his own strength, because he accidentally causes Jimin to stumble a few steps back, nearly toppling over one of their bread racks. “You’re joking. If you fired me, no one would be able to make the bagels in the morning because you never know how to proof them correctly.”

“Slander!” Jimin hisses, pinching Jungkook’s side in retaliation. You and Jungkook laugh at his childish pouts, but the older boy can’t hide his own mirth for too long. “Fine. You can stay. But you,” he points at you this time, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “You better not seduce my boy over here to make your strawberry shortcake milkshake. I have eyes and ears everywhere.” He drags his finger to the corner of the walls, where there is—

“There’s nothing there?” You follow where he’s pointing, but all you can see is a stray cobweb that Jungkook must have missed while dusting this morning. “Am I supposed to be looking at something?”

“Jimin is thinking of installing surveillance cameras soon. He’s convinced that someone is trying to steal his banana cream pie recipe.” Jungkook shrugs. He slings an arm around Jimin’s shoulder, glaringly delighted when their height difference becomes even more apparent while he stands close to him. “Anyway, I promise I won’t get ‘seduced’ by her, or whatever you want to call it. Why don’t you head home early for tonight? I’ll close up and I’ll try to convince Y/N to try our other pastries as a replacement.”

You open your mouth to try and protest, but Jungkook sends you a cheeky wink, making sure that his boss doesn’t catch him in the act. Bemused but interested to see what he’s up to, you decide to keep quiet and wait for him to continue.

“Don’t try and think you’re being slick here, buddy,” Jimin says, closing in on Jungkook’s personal space by pressing his chest against his. “If I see that you break the bakery code and serve her that drink… There will be consequences.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, sighing dramatically as he gently pries the smaller man away from him. “Yeah, yeah. I got you. No funny business, I promise. Now get out of here, hyung. Leave the rest to me.”

Jimin gives him one last firm look before squinting warily at you, lips pursed tightly. “No seducing,” he repeats, wagging his finger at you. He unties the apron around his neck, throwing it haphazardly at the coat hanger on the back door where his jacket was hanging. He folds it over his arm and points at the corner of the ceiling with his free hand once more before exiting through the front entrance, the soft bells hanging above the doorway tinkling in his wake.

When he’s gone, you release a breath that you hadn’t realized you had been holding. “Well, that was easier than expected. I didn’t think you’d be able to get him to leave. He must trust you a lot, huh?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Nah. He’s just lazy. He hates closing the bakery and will jump at any opportunity to go home early.”

You nod. “Seems like him.” There’s a beat of silence. “So… How much seducing am I gonna have to do to get my milkshake, huh?”

Like you guessed, Jungkook immediately turns red at your words, spluttering and stammering over his spit for a few seconds before managing to come up with a reply. “O-oh, there’s no need for that. I was gonna make the drink for you anyway.”

“But what about the quote-unquote consequences?” you ask, still worried that you might be getting Jungkook in trouble. You’d rather have your arm cut off than have him get punished, no matter how small it might be.

“No need to worry about that. Jimin might pretend to be a prickly old man sometimes, but he’s mostly just full of hot air,” Jungkook snorts, shaking his head in amusement. “He’ll just make me treat him to some skewers or something. He’s just teasing.”

“If… If you say so? I just really don’t want him to get angry with you…” you say, voice turning small as you tried to reign your embarrassment in. “I know I made a fool of myself just moments ago and begged like a baby for the milkshake, but I was just exaggerating…”

“Something tells me that you aren’t, but let’s pretend for your sake that you are,” Jungkook says. You huff indignantly at his teasing, but you’re more overjoyed by the sight of his cute bunny smile. You had only seen it in passing a few times in the past, but seeing it directed at you is an entirely different experience. Because of you, your mind helpfully supplies.

He heads over to the backroom to begin preparing your drink, but he keeps the door open this time so you can see him even from behind the counter. You can mostly only see the large industrial ovens and bread racks filled to the brim with all sorts of pastries proofing for the night, but you do catch a glimpse of the sole blender near the back. Jungkook grabs the glass jar first and then walks over to the fridge just out of your sight, most likely to grab the ingredients needed for your milkshake.

The bakery is mostly silent, save for the sound of Jungkook moving and assembling everything. You rack your brain for some sort of conversation starter, as the atmosphere between the two of you has begun to return to its usual awkward state as you skirt around each other, unsure of where either of you stands. You might have known him for a while now, but today is the most you’ve ever spoken to him and the tension is palpable.

“So.” You clear your throat, heart beating a mile a minute in your chest. “I… guess this is going to be the last time I have this drink, huh?”

The sound of Jungkook chopping on the cutting board pauses for a second. You can only see his left shoulder from where you’re standing, but you can see it tense even then. “I… I mean, will you stop coming over to the bakery if it is the last time?”

There are so many things you want to say all at once, but the words somehow get caught in your throat. You want to say that you love coming to the bakery to see them (though it’s mostly Jungkook if you’re being honest) and that the strawberry shortcake milkshake had just been an excuse to visit for a while now. You want to keep visiting for as long as they’ll have you—but you don’t know how to say it without hot humiliation running down your spine. You don’t want to weird him out by confessing to him all of a sudden. And so, you clam up, not knowing how to respond.

When Jungkook throws in all the ingredients in the blender, he doesn’t turn it on immediately. He tilts his head to the side, not fully looking at you but giving you a view of his beautiful side profile. You see his Adam’s apple bob for a moment, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he speaks. “Because… If that’s how it’s going to be, then maybe… buying a couple of skewers for Jimin won’t be so bad.”

You freeze. “What? Are you saying that...”

“I’ll keep making the drink for you, even if it’s not on the menu anymore?” Jungkook finishes, turning fully to face you. There’s a shy grin on his face, coupled with the ever-present pink flush high on his cheekbones. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. We’ll have to be sneaky about it, though. You’ll have to come to the bakery only when I’m closing so that he doesn’t catch us but otherwise…” He scratches the tip of his nose, looking embarrassed. “If… If you’re fine doing that, I mean.”

It feels like an eternity before you can remember how to function like a regular human being again. Your insides feel like molten lava and you’re certain that your internal organs have begun to self-destruct right after that super-effective hit from Jeon Jungkook, super baker boy extraordinaire. It’s mind-blowing how effortlessly cute he can be, making you realize belatedly that his quiet demeanor over the past few weeks had been a blessing and not a curse. If he had been this sweet with you from the get-go, you’d surely be melted butter on a sidewalk by now.

“I would love you—I mean, I would love it if you did that for me, actually.” You stammer, resisting the urge to punch yourself in the tit. You’re thankful for the lack of mirrors at the bakery, for you are positive that you must look like the devil’s blazing red testicles at this point.

“Great,” Jungkook smiles softly. He turns the blender off, pouring your drink into a paper cup. “Oh, before I forget…” He grabs a marker from the small tin can near the cash register, and you watch as he quickly scribbles a few hearts around the circumference of the cup. “There we go. Now it’s done.”

As Jungkook hands your drink to you, you’re hit with a moment of déjà vu when your fingers brush just like the first time you had met. You sense the same familiar shock of electricity when you touch, but instead of pulling away like before, Jungkook surprises you for the third time that day.

When he’s sure that you have a secure grip on your cup, he grabs your free hand with his, unfurling your fingers until he can get a hold of your pinky. He curls his pinky into yours, linking them together with a bashful smile on his lips. “There. Now we pinky promised to each other.”

“Y-yes. Of course,” you mumble, giggling lightly when he still refuses to let go. “I pinky promise.”

.

.

.

Five minutes away from Euphoria Bakery, Jimin sits quietly in his parked car, his figure hunched over the small screen of his phone as he chuckles loudly to himself. There is a tiny video of two people, a boy and a girl, with their hands held together. Despite the quality being grainy and warped, Jimin needs no confirmation as to who those people are; he’s always known, after all.

“All according to keikaku.” He whistles happily, already salivating at the thought of all the skewers Jungkook will have to buy for him.

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[dreamii-yume]

So, in the event, Rook has shown that he just carries rope with him. You may do whatever you wish with that information 👀

This was an ask from a few...weeks ago? I don’t remember exactly how long this was sitting in my inbox because I was waiting for the perfect time to answer it (//∇//)

Rook had been a very kind and helpful senior to you this year. You’ll be lying if you say that you didn’t think he was a bit strange like the others, but he has that certain charm in him that makes it difficult for you to complete look away from his direction. Besides, it got to the point where you just got used to him and even thought his actions were somehow entertaining...If you were the spectator, rather than the target that is.

Rook is a very doting person as well, you are by no means an exception to this peculiarity of his. He’ll appear when you least expected it, often startling you out of your skin just by a mere greeting alone. He would always talk to you as if he’s reciting a poem ever so often, making you think that you may or may not have completely lost his point here, it’s almost like he’s talking in a different language. He always acts like this towards you, and to everyone else as well, you could never know what he’s thinking or what he wants in the first place. Part of you just thought that he may just have been built differently than others, but then again, Rook is an elusive individual to begin with so everything could all be an act in the first place.

Long store short; you were both fascinated and terrified of this man.

But as strange and conflicting your relationship with Rook is, you still respected the guy as your senior to some extent. Say what you want about the the Pomefiore Vice Dorm Leader but you can’t deny his wide range of capabilities. When you are at a lost for things that you think you can’t do, he was the one who provided you with the advices and help that you needed during those times. Before you knew it, you had already owe him in many ways and yet, Rook had never once asked for anything in return.

“Worry not, mon petite chérie. For I am only doing of what I must.” He would say to you as an excuse, often filling you with guilt sometimes. Especially whenever he would ever so gently pat your head, chuckling to himself as he towers down upon you. “Seeing the beauty in your smile is enough to make my own heart flutter in happiness. Oui, believe me when I say that it’s that marvelous.”

Huh...So, people who accepts things like that as payment still exists in this time and age too. Forgive yourself from being too suspicious of his behavior though, you just don’t think a single smile is worth all that trouble but you guessed this was just another “agree-to-disagree” kind of situation. Who knows? The two of you did grew up in two different upbringings. Or quite literally, two different worlds.

Anyways, although you respected his choices after all this time, you thought it was just common sense to at least provide him with a simple gift in his birthday. You saw how everyone else such as Epel, Vil, and Trey were preparing their own gifts, so you don’t think he’ll be able to reject yours this time. You made your way through the Pomefiore lounge where the party was being held, but was unable to see a single glimpse of your peculiar senior around. It was a lively party and he may be busy with the other dorm residents, so you felt a bit out of place and proceeded to ask people you personally knew about his whereabouts.

“Rook? I was talking to him earlier but now, I have no idea where he went.” Vil said with a sigh as he crossed his arms. “That guy is as elusive as always, even I wouldn’t know exactly what’s running through that mind of his. It puts me in an unsettling position actually.”

“But it’s his birthday for goodness sake, he’s the main protagonist of the day. He should be the one to at least entertain the guest out here, not hiding in plain shadows, seriously.” You laughed nervously as Vil ranted in irritation, huffing by the end. He then glanced at you and soon took notice of the gift you’re holding. “If that gift is for him then, just leave it at his room. It’s unlocked, I believe. We stacked the other gifts he got earlier there too so it wouldn’t clog up the lounge.”

“O-Oh, is that so...Thank you very much.” Thus, ended your conversation with the Dorm Leader with a bow, watching as he walked away saying how Epel had been consuming way too much sugar for the night. With no more leads to follow, you chose to go with Vil’s suggestion and headed out to his room, still at a lost for where your senior could be.

It was true, the moment you spotted the room and turned the doorknob around, it easily spun open. “...Pardon my intrusion...” You slowly said as you took a peak before entering, unsure if anyone was actually inside. There was no one, just some elagant room design as expected with the Pomefiore dorm, with neat furnitures decorated all around. You could feel your own heart cry when you compare to your own dorm which trademark lies within the ghost residents.

You felt slightly anxious, it was your first time visiting his room like this so you couldn’t help but to gawk at some things you’ve never seen before. This was your chance to explore another man’s room, albeit only for a few seconds and by the looks of it, it really hits different that of Ace or Deuce. It has the exact same smell as Rook and the sense of familiarity was somehow calming, probably because you’re so used to being in close proximity with him now. His belongings were all well-organized, the books are neatly stacked on the bookshelves, along with some...questionable collection of bows and arrows stuck on the wall. You also noticed a spare hat and a single telescope lying on his desk, you could ask what it was for, but you preferred to keep the question for yourself.

You shook your head eventually, quickly but carefully prancing inside to place your gift on his desk. Finally, your quest has been conquered, although looking around, the other presents that Vil mentioned was nowhere to be found. Maybe he has them already opened and kept at a certain storage of some sort? Anyways, that wasn’t your problem now, you did what you needed to do, it was your time to bounce out of this room, feeling as if you’re invading too much of his personal privacy. Rook did told you that he never liked that in a person.

...Until, something else caught your eye.

You stopped, eyes blinking repeatedly at the slight tear in the wallpaper near his bed. There was something hidden inside, no, it doesn’t seem like it’s trying to hide at all. It was deliberately placed in a place like that for everyone to see. So, like a cat overwhelmed by curiosity, you stepped close to inspect it, even going as far as stepping on the neatly draped bed sheets of his to get a closer look.

“Eh...?” It was a mass of pictures of almost everything and everyone you can think of upon coming to this school. It was stuck inside the wall like a collection of some sort and it took you a while to actually get what all of this meant. “There’s so many pictures...Pfft...!”

You ended up laughing at yourself for feeling so tense, you honestly felt stupid for the amount of suspense you gave yourself. Of course, this was definitely something that Rook Hunt will do, what did you think it was going to be? Sure, it is creepy to think that someone is keeping tabs at everyone and everything through photography but this is just normal in this school. At least, to those who knew Rook to some extent, it’s not really a big deal nowadays, especially at this school. Anyways, you calmed your laughter down and stared back at the pictures to actually admire them as despite it all, every one of them are all well-taken.

Humming throughout your exploration, you thought it would be interesting to see if you could spot yourself in one of these photos. You looked around and at first, it was tough since you weren’t anywhere in the photos that the wallpaper could reveal but after a while you found a glimpse of your own face at the very edge. However, the tear in the wallpaper stops there so it filled you with disappointment to not be able to see the photo he took of you. “That’s a bummer...” You pouted slightly.

However, combined with overwhelming curiosity, your mischievous side couldn’t help but to come out. You peaked through the small hole inside the wallpaper and confirmed that there is more, as you expected Rook would have, just not visible from your angle. You didn’t want to damage anything but you carefully slipped your fingers in the small opening, trying to get a better look of the picture. You were mainly trying to shine light on them, just a little bit more and you could make out of its content. It got your heart pumping somehow, eager to see what kind of photo you were in.

“Bonjour~”

Screaming almost immediately due to panic and shock, you made the mistake of instinctively gripping his wallpaper tight, dragging them down completely by accident. You turned around, face flushed and clutched your chest as your heart beats so fast that it feels like it could jump out at any moment. “R-Ro-Rook-san!?” You stammered out, your butt hitting the bed while your legs shook. “W-Wha-When...!?”

Rook only gave out a chuckle as you frantically try to calm your nerves, which was nearly impossible after the stunt that he just pulled. You knew he loved doing this and to think you’d be used to it by now, but this one felt so different than the other times you were startled by him. He was so close to you with that greeting, too close in fact. Just where the hell does he keep coming from, you didn’t even hear a single sound from your surroundings. Rook stood straight before glancing over at the mess you had realized you made when his expression turned that of worry.

You were still gripping onto the ruined wallpaper at this point so, you gasped and quickly turned around, preparing for any damage you may have caused. However, at that moment, you stopped once your eyes had finally caught what kind of picture were inside those wallpapers all along.

“Aah...To think mon chére fleur herself would be the one to unravel my collection! How embarrassing~!” Rook said, placing a hand on his slowly heating up his cheeks. He bats an eye to your direction, looking all embarrassed as you stared, unblinking at his work. He soon smirked and chuckled darkly, leaning in closer to you from behind, in which you shivered at. “...But how does it look in your perspective? Aren’t they all beautiful?”

Yes, they were harmless pictures, that’s all there is supposed to be on it. But these pictures striked a nerve in you, one such that you didn’t know could cause this much wave of alarming fear in your body.

They were harmless but they were not normal in the slightest. For almost all of what the wallpaper had revealed was all about you, and only you that it makes you sick to the stomach. Everything that you remember doing in your daily routine had been taken into consideration, from a picture of you yawning as you wake up in the morning, to a picture of you sleeping peacefully at night. Pictures of you seemingly eating, walking, talking, everything that you’ve been doing is pasted on the same wall before you, all taken in such high resolution. If that wasn’t enough, even a few photos of you in the nude was in there, bathing and changing, you unconsciously wrapped your hands around yourself as goosebumps quickly formed.

Rook had literally been watching your every movements, documenting your life with a camera and capturing everything, including things that hits way too close. Deeply disturbed, your eyes tried to glance everywhere but the pictures, only to find no escape to them. Some pictures had even been tampered with before taking the shot, like that one photo where his hands shows his hands deliberately spreading your legs for the camera as you slept. You shivered, unconsciously thinking about that other one where it was your breasts that was fully out for the world to see and oh, god...That one with your sleeping face covered with a suspicious white liquid, you almost gagged at the mental image.

“...W-What is this...” You slowly looked up at Rook with fear in your eyes, trembling like a leaf as the same guy looked down upon you with a chilling smile. It was honestly too nauseating that you instinctively brought a hand to your mouth, just in case something does come out.

“Beauty, my Love.” Rook purred closer to you, his eyes brimming with desire. “Your beauty.”

He caught your chin in a gentle yet tight grip. “I had it preserve in a memory that I would forever see. Just keeping them in my mind alone was not enough.” He said, closing in on you on his bed, preventing any possible escape routes. “...For I am a greedy man.”

And with that, you found yourself in his bind, pinning you down on the bed with your hands on each side of your head. “Now...The reason why you invaded my sanctuary was...?” Rook asked but he was not expecting you to answer at all. Instead, his eyes glanced to the side, eyeing the gift you left on his desk. “...Ah, of course. Vil must’ve given you permission to hand your gift in.”

You were as stiff as a rock, too tense to even act and move. The hands on your wrists doesn’t seem too tight but a feeling in your gut screams at you to not even try if you didn’t want to get hurt. You were left gulping down your own nervousness as Rook turned back to you with the same smile. “Merci. I’ll be sure to treasure whatever you have given me.” He whispered as he leaned closer, giving you a delicate kiss on the temple in which you squeaked at. “...But nonetheless, you trespassed on someone else’s territory, petite proie. A predator’s territory, on top of that.”

“I-I’m sor-“

“Non, an apology is not what I need. Someone as beautiful as you should not make that kind face.” Rook cuts you off, before suggestively licking his lips. He sat up, confident enough to let go of your wrist, knowing fully well that you wouldn’t have the guts to push him off. He straddled above your stomach, which left you confused and wary to wonder what he was planning to do. However, looking back at him, your eyes widened in caution as he suddenly pulled out a long and thick rope, one that would certainly burn your skin if you struggle too much. Where in the hell did he... “Lift your head up high and reap what you have sowed. That is the beauty that can justify your crimes.”

“Now...” You breathe heavily as he tightened his hold on the rope, biting his lip eagerly. You can’t even imagine how much he has planned inside his head. It made you visit the terrifying possibility that he was ready for this moment from the very beginning, curiated and planned. Your heart drops at the thought, if that is really the case, then...Just how much? How much further into the future did he plan exactly? “Allow me to indulge myself to this fine opportunity you gave me, beloved Trickster.

“...A fine opportunity, indeed. Beautifully so.”

Allow Yume to flex on her non-existing French skills along with her companion, Google Translate. i sincerely apologize to any French Darlings out there yume did not attend a single French class in her life lol

Someone teach me French so I can write more things about this sexy bitch.

#rook hunt #yandere rook hunt #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere #Birthday Crumbs

[fantasia-monogram]

As the clock strikes midnight, part 1

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / epilogue

♥️ Taeyang x reader (nonbinary, female anatomy) x Jaeyoon; mentions of other SF9 members

♥️ Suggestive (~2k words); smoking, mentions of alcohol, (lightly) implied BDSM. Mutual pining. Next part is going to be NSFW (and reveal more about the characters’ history).

♥️ You’re a beast at work, having to be tough to climb up the corporate ladder, but what you never thought of is that your attitude might be intimidating to your long time crush. Luckily, your much more laid back friend is here to help... both of you.

♥️ Disclaimer: this is just for fun! I’m not claiming that’s how they are in real life, it’s just my imagination doing whatever it wants. Read at your own discretion.

“Ah, the exciting world of corporate banking.”

You were too tired to check the time, but one look over the room gave you a clear idea of what kind of stage the party has reached: vast office space, with all the desks pushed against the wall and a long table situated in the middle, was littered with barely-sober people, most of them in groups of two or three. The goal was to let coworkers of various titles and positions mingle in a casual manner, as the fairly young company’s hierarchy and employer count was expanding proportionately to its growth - friendly office culture was a staple in this place. Truth was, after a couple drinks (or, in case of some tougher individuals, whole bottles of soju), everyone would group into their regular lunch break cliques, usually within the same department.

Long gone were the days when the business was much smaller, and it was easier for people from different departments to form close bonds.

Luckily, you remembered them very well, and that’s why, as the party was dying down, you shared a (small and not very comfortable) couch with your two best colleagues: Lee Jaeyoon and Yoo Taeyang.

“Look at him. What a fighter,” Jaeyoon said with a hushed voice, pointing his almost full glass of whisky towards another corner of the spacious room. There, behind one of the squished-together desks, Quality Department leader Kim Inseong was still angrily babbling about work-related statistics to the nearly-wasted Training Supervisor, Baek Juho. The latter, with his forehead propped on his hand, kept waving at his superior to stop, as coherent words would not come out of his mouth at this point no matter how hard he tried. Inseong, incredibly professional yet warm and welcoming when sober, would do a total 180° after a single bottle of soju and turn into a snarky bastard ranting at everything going on in the company.

“Supervisor Baek is holding on strong, though,” Taeyang added in a matter-of-fact tone before taking a sip from his glass.

You couldn’t help but cover your mouth and snort with amusement.

The three of you were an unusual group. 

You all joined the company on the same day, and underwent basic training for a couple weeks. Even though Jaeyoon was close to your age, the gap between you and Taeyang was much bigger. Add their impressive height and you had to admit, it was awkward to sit between these two guys every single day. Soon enough though, your small talk during short breaks would turn more and more enjoyable, and when the last week rolled in, as the oldest one, you mustered up the courage to invite them to a nearby coffee shop. Formally, you just wanted to celebrate the end of your training stage, but honestly… You grew fond of them, so there was no harm in getting to know them better away from the workplace.

Who knew the three of you would find common ground during that fateful meeting?

“Hey… Y/n… You there?” Jaeyoon’s voice snapped you out of a trip down the memory lane.

“Yeah. What were you saying?” you asked, a bit embarrassed.

“You don’t seem to be having fun at all. I haven’t seen you around the bar even once,” Jaeyoon ranted, haphazardly shaking his glass.

“You know I don’t drink.”, you stated calmly.

“Aish… It’s a party! No need to be so strict. Am I right?”

For some reason, Jaeyoon looked towards Taeyang with a wicked grin, and you followed. The youngest one, sitting by your right side, cleared his throat theatrically.

“I’ll go get myself another one.” he mumbled, already leaving the couch.

“Don’t overdo it!” Jaeyoon yelled, then turned back to you. “You could really use some percents, though. Just saying.”

“I have an image to maintain,” you said quietly, crossing your arms against your chest.

“You dressed like it’s every other day at work, too,” your friend pointed out, “It’s just a different colour.”

You looked at him resentfully. That’s true, tailored suits were your usual look, not just because you simply didn’t like dresses or skirts. It was the easiest way to elongate your silhouette, and you were already lacking in height compared to all the higher-ups attending company meetings with you.

A powerful look was expected from the Compliance Supervisor who rose to that position in a record-breaking time and was nowhere near done career-wise. 

Besides, you had to admit, your neat suits in a whole variety of colors boosted your confidence every single day. You had all of them adjusted, so they would accentuate your figure in all the right places. Oh, all the times you and Jaeyoon would shamelessly ask poor Taeyang who’s got the best ass out of you two (“Okay, forget it. Taeyangie does,” Jaeyoon would end the competition each time, making Taeyang cringe).

"You're just jealous because I look better in red than you do," you barked, although lacking any real bite. 

"Listen, what I'm trying to say is…" Jaeyoon leaned dangerously close to your ear. "...I don't mind your uniforms, but someone over there is on the brink of losing his mind right now." 

You backed off, wide-eyed. Your friend discreetly threw a glance towards Taeyang, who just came back with his glass refilled. 

Still dumbfounded, you kept looking back and forth at each of your friends, not realizing how silly it must have looked.

"Did I miss anything?" Taeyang asked, clearly feeling something went down during his absence. 

"Yeah, I just said that maybe we should leave this remnant of a party and move somewhere else," Jaeyoon replied, looking over your shoulder at the youngest. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, but ultimately decided his idea wasn't that bad after all. 

"I don't know… Wouldn't it be rude to leave so early?" Taeyang mused. 

"Seokwoo left, like, at 9," Jaeyoon pointed out. "Way before anybody had a chance to get drunk." 

"Ah, our lovely Escalation Specialist," you sighed, talking about Kim Seokwoo, your right hand man at the Compliance Department. "You could say the party escalated too much for him."

"At nine!", the older of your friends laughed. 

“What time is it anyway?” you asked. It didn’t matter that you could just check it yourself. You were used to people doing things like this for you around this place.

Jaeyoon, who knew it very well, fished his phone out of his shirt pocket.

“Uh… Fifteen to twelve,” he announced.

Taeyang tapped your shoulder. 

"Happy early birthday," he threw casually. 

Pleasant warmth rose to your cheeks. You were just starting to smile, your eyes crinkling already, when Jaeyoon jumped in his seat, startling both of you. 

"Wait, what?!" he yelled, making a few heads turn for a second or two. 

"What kind of a friend are you, really?" Taeyang snorted dryly, "It's y/n's birthday tomorrow." 

Jaeyoon let out a sound that could best be described as a happy roar and pounced forward in an attempt to give you a bear hug. You dodged it by moving backwards, thus colliding into Taeyang's side. 

You briefly glanced at each other, awkwardly nodding as an apology, before he uttered a quick it's fine and slid further into the couch. 

"Hey, that hug was supposed to be a present!" Jaeyoon whined, recovering his dignity after the failure. 

"Thanks, but no, thanks." you retorted, staying at a safe distance.

"Okay, but now we really have to go somewhere else. This calls for a celebration!" Your overly enthusiastic companion wasn't giving up that easily.

You turned to your other friend. 

"Taeyang?"

"That's enough social interaction for today," the boy in question replied, "One more crowded place and I'll pass out on the spot." 

He was known for his introverted tendencies; even at work, he occupied a desk that was a bit further from everyone else, guaranteeing him all the peace he needed, and had only one coworker he was somewhat close to apart from you two. 

"What about we go to my place instead? I've got no alcohol, but there are plenty of leftovers for a late dinner if you're hungry," you offered instead. 

"Sounds like a plan!" Jaeyoon clasped his hands. "I'll pay for the cab." 

Taeyang bottomed out his glass. 

"Wanna go for a smoke while we wait?"

As soon as you put a cigarette in your mouth, Taeyang was there to light it. You could swear his eyes lingered on your lips, but maybe it was so late that your eyes started pulling tricks on you. 

A good five minutes passed of the three of you smoking in silence, enjoying the cool summer breeze and the sight of a nearly full moon above you. Taeyang was the first to finish, with you following. Jaeyoon was the last to end his cigarette, throwing it into the trash can nearby in a somewhat angry manner. 

"Taeyang, I can't possibly imagine a better time to tell them than now."

Both you and Taeyang turned your heads towards Jaeyoon.

"Tell what?" you posed a question, confused. 

The guys exchanged looks. After that, Taeyang averted his eyes, while Jaeyoon locked his with yours. 

"I think he should be the one to explain." Jaeyoon stated firmly. 

"It's fine," Taeyang's voice was unexpectedly weak, "I'm fine with you telling them." 

You felt your heartbeat quicken all of sudden. 

"He's head over heels for you." 

And then, it was as if your heart just stopped. No, that couldn't be. Your pretty, soft spoken dongsaeng you always had your eyes on? In love with you?

"No way." you muttered, turning to face Taeyang. He still couldn't bear to look at you. "Is that true?" 

Internally, you were screaming for him to say yes. 

Poor guy seemed like he was about to get a panic attack, breathing in and out loudly, hands balled into fists. You could see him biting his lips.

"Come on." Jaeyoon ushered, "I did the hard part for you. Now it's your turn." 

Taeyang slowly raised his gaze. His doll-like eyes were glazed over with tears - a sight so stunning it almost made you gasp. 

"It's true. It's been going on for more than two years now." His voice was quiet, but steady.

You kept staring at his gorgeous, flushed face, unable to say a word. It was a clue for him to continue. 

"I knew I had a chance. I'm not stupid. I noticed you treated me differently than Jaeyoon or any other friend at work. But I also knew your no relationships at the workplace policy and your attitude towards age gaps, and decided to keep it to myself." 

Your heart was about to burst. 

"I'm just as demanding in love as I am at work," you explained, "I'd ruin you."

Jaeyoon circled you. As soon as he stopped, he put his left hand on Taeyang's shoulder, while his right on yours. 

"Tell them," he encouraged the younger guy again. 

As if on command, there was fire burning in Taeyang's gaze. You felt it consume you as a whole.

"I'm not fragile," the boy declared, “I want to be ruined.”

You thought you were dreaming, but a squeeze of Jaeyoon’s hand on your shoulder anchored you back to reality, this reality being your crush at first sight confessing to you.

“Your confidence… How strict and relentless you are…” Taeyang went on, his voice breaking, “The tone of your voice… And your suits. Oh, your suits. It all turns me on so much.”

“What a guy,” Jaeyoon chuckled, shaking his head.

Both you and Taeyang decided to ignore him for now.

“I repeat,” Taeyang insisted, “I want to be ruined.”

Despite Jaeyoon’s continuous hold on both of you, you reached towards Taeyang’s face to caress his smooth cheeks with the back of your fingers. That was all he needed to surge forward and plant a brief, fluttering kiss on your lips that still managed to leave you with your head spinning, needing more.

“Happy birthday, y/n,” Taeyang whispered, holding his forehead against yours.

It was only then when you realized you were both breathing heavily, even though nothing had happened yet.

The moment was interrupted by the ringtone of Jaeyoon’s phone. At last, the guy ceased his hold on you to check the device.

“Okay, lovebirds, the cab is here. It’s gonna be a fun night.”

You glanced at Jaeyoon, then locked your eyes with Taeyang’s again. He reciprocated your devious smile.

(to be continued)

#sf9 scenarios #sf9 smut #sf9 imagines #yoo taeyang imagine #yoo taeyang scenario #Another long piece of writing... #Please bear with me #As the clock strikes midnight

[mrs-dr-reid]

The Girl Behind the Desk

(A Criminal Minds Fic)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Requested by @imagining-in-the-margins​; “Spencer goes to the same library whenever he can. In part because he likes to read the encyclopedias, but also because he’s in love with one of the girls who works there. Unfortunately, he’s also convinced she doesn’t know he exists.”

Genre: Super fluffy, doods

Warnings: Pining, I guess? (is that a thing that needs a warning? I dunno, maybe)

A/N: Okay, this was so fun to write? Oh my god. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Word Count: 1858

———————————————————————

Spencer didn’t know why he kept going there. Well, he takes that back. He kind of knows why he keeps going to a very particular library in the D.C. area: There’s a very robust collection of encyclopedias there that he can go and read whenever he has time off from the BAU. Therein lies the kicker: he’s already read the entire collection at least half a dozen times. So why does he keep going there if he’s already read the one thing there that interests him?

The answer is quite simple... the encyclopedia section is within viewing distance of the check-out desk, and whenever he goes in to read them, there’s always a beautiful young woman there with shiny Y/H/C hair and striking Y/E/C eyes checking out books, answering the questions of other library patrons, and taking the reshelving cart to some other section of the library. He’s never plucked up the courage to go over and talk to her, but he knew from overhearing the conversations she had with her coworkers that her first name was Y/N.

Spencer’s played out a thousand interactions with her in his mind, but he’s never gone over to the desk to actually play one of them out. So for the past month and a half, he’s just been sitting in the corner by himself pretending to read a book while staring at the beautiful librarian from across the room like a lovesick idiot. And he was a lovesick idiot, because he couldn’t recall a single time in his life where he was utterly captivated by a woman he’d never even spoken a word to before.

He noticed every little thing about her: the way she would smile at young children who would plunk a Magic Treehouse or Percy Jackson book on the counter and stand on their tiptoes to hand her their library card, then give them a small lollipop from the glass bowl on the desk before they left, the way she laughed when one of her coworkers told a really lame library joke, the way she could pull her hair into a neat bun while she was working without one of those hair donut things he’s seen JJ use a couple times, and the way there was always a skip in her step and a song in her head when she was pushing the reshelving cart to whatever section she needed to go to.

She never looked over at his lonely little table because she was busy focusing on the more busy sections of the library, like the magazines, the research computers, and the children’s books, so the logical half of Spencer’s brain managed to convince him that she had no idea he even existed and that he really had no business being in the building. Still, the other more fantastical half of his brain kept him rooted in his plush library chair on the very slim chance that one day she’d look over and at least give him a smile. He highly doubted that would ever happen, but a guy can hope.

—   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —

Y/N could tell that the guy in a purple sweater vest with unruly brown hair and thoughtful brown eyes sitting at a table near the encyclopedias wasn’t really there to read all of them every time he came in, because she was pretty sure she saw him read every single one of them and put them all back in the right place in the span of a few hours the first day he came into her library.

Sometimes when she was refilling the candy bowl, she would steal a quick glance over at him and see him absentmindedly flipping through the pages of an encyclopedia she knows she’s seen him read in record breaking time with a furrowed brow, because she had to admit he was handsome in his own nerdy little way. And she’d always feel her stomach flip when he pushed his hair away from his eyes or adjusted his tie, because his hands look HUGE, even from far away, and she knows that if they ever shook hands, his would completely swallow hers.

She only knew his name because he answered his phone one time, and she heard him say, “Dr. Spencer Reid,” which made her raise her eyebrows in amazement, because he couldn’t have been much older than she was and he was a doctor. She could tell by the way he dressed that there was no way he was a medical doctor, so she assumed that he was a college professor with a proclivity for literature.

He came into her library sporadically over a month and a half period, and when he was gone for long lapses in time, Y/N assumed he was doing lectures either at the school he worked at or at nearby schools as a guest speaker. But whenever she looked over at the empty table where he usually made himself at home, she couldn’t help but miss him, which was utterly ridiculous because how could you miss someone you’ve never even spoken to? She then made a pact with herself: the next time she saw him come in, she was going to find some excuse or another to talk to him.

—   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —

Spencer got back from a really rough case, and he figured that a trip to his favorite library might lift his spirits. He walked in through the doors, expecting it to be a normal session of “pretending to read so I can stare at the desk girl”, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a voice he’d only heard from a distance say, “We just got in a couple new ones about fungi and spores, in case you wanted to look at something new.”

He turned around to see the woman he’d been admiring from afar for nearly the last two months with her award-winning smile on her face. She pointed at his table and said, “I noticed you liked hanging out by the encyclopedias, so I thought I’d let you know if I caught you before you hunkered down over there,” making him struggle to find the right words to say. He finally settled on, “Ummm, okay. Cool. Thank you for letting me know,” and smiled before starting to walk away.

Y/N knew that was her last chance, so she said, “I’m Y/N, by the way. Y/N L/N,” and held out her hand, so Spencer hesitated before grabbing it and saying, “Hi, Y/N. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. Sorry, but, handshakes aren’t normally my thing. You see, the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is outrageous. It’s actually...,” making Y/N say, “Safer to kiss, right? I’ve dealt with my fair share of germaphobes who whip out that fact,” before shooting him a wink.

Spencer didn’t know how to react to that, but he knows for a fact he went pink in the cheeks. Y/N continued, “And I already knew your name. I heard you answer your phone once. You’ve never checked out any books, so I just thought you were too busy with teaching to remember to return them and never went over to ask you about it,” while she started grabbing new books to stamp and stack.

Spencer didn’t really know how to respond to that, but he remembered how to speak English, and he said, “You think I’m a teacher?”, so she said, “Yeah. I mean, based on the way you dress and the fact that you’re slightly too germaphobic, there’s no way you’re a medical doctor. I figured you were a college professor, more specifically in the English department. How close am I?”, while sitting down in her swivel chair.

Spencer was impressed by her profiler-level deduction, so he said, “I’d say you were 70% accurate. I’m not a medical doctor, but I do have three PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering, 2 BAs in Psychology and Sociology, and I’m working on a BA in Philosophy. I am a college professor, but I teach Criminology. I’m also a Supervisory Special Agent with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI,” which made Y/N’s eyebrows fly up. She said, “Seriously?! All this time, I’ve been sneaking peeks at a super genius pretending to read an encyclopedia in the corner for the past two months?”, which made Spencer’s sly smile drop off his face.

He said, “You knew I was pretending?”, so Y/N grabbed her water bottle and said, “Yeah. You breezed through the entire collection in less than 3 hours the first day you came in, then you put every single one back in its rightful place. I even double checked after you left, and I didn’t have to swap a single book into the right place,” before taking a sip of water. Spencer said, “Well, I guess that’s what happens when you have an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute,” which nearly made Y/N choke on her water.

Spencer’s eyes widened in concern, and he said, “Oh my god, are you okay?”, but she waved him off and said, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t expecting that,” before setting her water down. She checked her watch, then said, “Okay, my shift ends in a couple hours. And knowing you you’ll probably finish all those new encyclopedias by then, so how about when I clock out, you and I can go get coffee or something?”, which took Spencer completely by surprise. He said, “Uhhhhh, sure! Yeah, sure! That sounds great!”, his voice betraying him by cracking awkwardly.

Clearly Y/N thought it was cute, because she grabbed a pink sticky note and a clicker pen from the cup on the desk, jotted something down, then handed it to him before saying, “Be sure to think of some interesting fungus facts to tell me later, Dr. Brainiac,” winking, and heading off to reshelve some books. Spencer stood there awestruck for a solid minute before shaking himself and going to his usual spot. He finally looked down at what she had written, and he felt himself go completely red, because on the note was a series of numbers that could only be her cell phone number, an address that could only be hers, and the words “call me sometime, Boy Genius” written in a gorgeous looping scrawl.

Spencer looked up again to see her talking with one of her coworkers behind the desk, so he pulled out his phone and punched in her number before typing “Is texting okay, too?” and pressing send. He saw her pull out her phone, and she looked up and gave him a playful eye roll before typing something and putting her phone back in her pocket. His phone buzzed again, so he checked it to see that she had sent back “Of course it is, Dr. Reid ;)”, making him smile before going to grab those encyclopedias she was talking about.

———————————————————————

Tag List: @agenthotchner​, @hurricanejjareau​, @xgoldentigerlilyx​, @therestisconfettis​, @less-intelligent-spencerreid​, @aryaarathornson​, @thomasgibsonfan01​

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added

#criminal minds #reader insert #one shot #dr spencer reid

[itsnothingofinterest]

BNHA is a series that really loves foils and parallels. This is an understandable love, because it’s a cool concept, and it’s generally agreed BNHA does it in cool ways. The way the villain trio each foil one of the main UA students, or Endeavor & his family and Ujiko & his Nomu, Izuku again and Shinsou…Hawks & Twice I guess.

But one that I think is really cool, yet doesn’t really get brought into discussion a whole lot, is All Might & Shigaraki; because those two actually have a lot of interesting similarities. So having notices their similarities, it seems only fair to compare and contrast them. It is my duty as a BNHA meta writer after all. So join me, and let’s go over what cool things these guys have in common.

The way of the Shimura

One thing they have in common is the teachings on Nana…at least in that, every quality All Might learned from Nana is also present in Shigaraki. The near constant smile that exudes an aura of confidence, and the habit of remembering your origin and motivation to power through the toughest of hurdles. And in addition, there’s the fact they even have a plan for the toughest of hurdled like that despite their god-like power; because being OP is no reason not to give it your all like you’re a cornered rat.

But what’s interesting about this is; they got these traits from different sources, and that has an effect on how they use them. All Might learned this stuff from Nana, and its stuff he consciously does as a result. He told Deku once that he smiles to stave off his fear, and his origin power up was preceded by him remembering Nana telling him to remember his origin for a power up. The smile is actually something he’s ended up inadvertently teaching to the next generation, with guys like Deku & Bakugou sporting big grins to mimic their hero.

Shigaraki however, did not learn these traits (I mean he’s obviously not mimicking All Might, and no one ever told him the limit breaking trick). No, instead he almost seems to have inherited these tricks, and as a result he does them far more naturally. He doesn’t stave of his fear with a confident smile, he just is confident. He doesn’t have to remember to get a boost by remembering why he’s fighting, he just kind of does it as soon as things get rough (assuming he doesn’t do it from the word go). And it’s impressive enough that he seemed to figure out the limit breaking trick on his own in the first place. What I’m trying to say is that Shigaraki is better than All Might.

No but I do think it’s a cool detail how they have these traits in common due to their connections to Nana, and how they individualize these traits due to the difference in those relations to Nana.

Literal Symbolism

Moving on to their most ‘neat little’ similarity, and one that’s pretty easy to pick up on, is their status as symbols to their allies and enemies (including civilian level guys on both sides of the conflict). They both have this way of inspiring faith in everyone on one side of the conflict and great fear on everyone on the other. Heck, Shigaraki has on occasion been called a symbol of fear in reference to All Might’s common title as the symbol of peace.

Even if it might be a minor thing overall, I actually think this is the coolest parallel between the two because it’s something nearly equal yet opposite about them; because generally speaking, the people one of them inspires are the people the other terrifies. Those on the heroes side, weather on the front lines or watching on TV, hold All Might in the highest regard and are terrified of Shigaraki & his League of Villains. Conversely; anyone who doesn’t support the heroes, whether they be some level of criminal/villain or just a civ unsatisfied with the current system, tend to be afraid of All Might but find Shigaraki appealing, perhaps even inspiring of hope.

That last bit I think is actually the biggest difference in the types of symbols they are though. Although both inspire fear in their enemies; what All Might inspires in his allies is peace, ease, he is here to save the day. What Shigaraki inspires in the unsatisfied or oppressed is, in some way the opposite; hope. The way things are now is going to change, former certainties are inverted, and things are getting flipped on their head; and for those at the bottom, that sounds like it could turn out pretty good for them. That’s the biggest difference in how those two exist right now.

How to Change the World in 10 Very Violent Steps

But I think the biggest thing they have in common is; Tomura’s goals and the way he goes about getting them are not to dissimilar to how All Might did things when he was starting out.

They both had the same starting point; thinking that society is really messed up and someone should to do something about it. And so under a powerful mentor, they set off to fight against vague bad things like “crime,” “oppression,” “apathy,” “conformity,” & “injustice”; which they quickly figured could be done by fighting specific groups of people responsible for the badness, either ‘villains’ or ’heroes,’ and on occasion some specific person or people on the top for at least a while.

From there, using all their power and great determination, and with a variety of motives from altruistic to rooted in personal revenge, they do all they can to oppose their enemies and bring them down. And anyone who gets in their way, well they get what’s coming to them; and no fuss is made because they probably deserved it if they were working for the bad guys. Besides we know their type; they’re the people who “spread chaos” or “sweep their mistakes under the rug” or whatever. So it’s okay, even if they die. And you may be wonder what I’m talking about because All Might’s never killed anyone; but remember that Hero Aca’s Japan is pretty big on the death sentence if Tartarus’ existence means anything, so he is at least “responsible for deaths.” But again, they deserved it so it’s okay; or at least that’s the mentality.

And honestly, even though we can tell the big difference in morality between their actions; it’s easy to see why Shigaraki couldn’t, and instead see their actions as the same. After all, Shigaraki thinks of the government & specifically those running the hero system as just as despicable as All Might perceived All For One to be…and he is not far off on that so far. But the difference is in those below them. AFO’s empire was protected by criminals; while hero society is protected by heroes. And we can tell the difference there, but why would Shigaraki? He’s an outsider to society, so he just sees another rival empire; what’s the difference to him between the villains that maintained AFO’s or Overhaul’s order and the heroes maintaining their own order?

(Of course, there is the vast difference in civilian casualties to consider, but we can’t expect too much from a guy taught morality by AFO.)

But y’know, I’m actually interested in the implications there. Because if Shigaraki is, in a sense, where All Might once was; what might that mean for his future if he were to succeed in his ambitions? And what might that mean for Izuku, who’d likely be coming after him.

Conclusion:

So what’s the point in all this? Well for one, it’s cool. Foils are cool, simple as that; but especially when we’re talking about two of the coolest characters in the series. All Might & Shiggy are both symbols, they’re both connected to Nana and both got the same things from her, and they both wanted to improve what they saw as wrong in society, and did/do so through violence. But there’s more to fils than aesthetic.

What really interests me by looking at their similarities, and what I want to close on, is the cyclical implications that arise from them. For you see, while All Might intended for Deku to be “next” it doesn’t look like that’s how it’s gonna turn out; not immediately anyway. Or, to go further back; first there was All For One as the driver of society, and then he got beaten & in a way usurped by All Might. Now it seems Shigaraki will be the one to fill the vacuum All Might left as the one to shape society, and then if things stay on course, Deku will beat him and fulfil that position himself. If that is how things turn out; it will imply a cycle of great heroes and villains taking the reins of society from each other in great battles, possibly for as long as heroes, villains, and quirks shall exist. And that sucks; which means somewhere along the lines, something is gonna have to change.

#bnha #shigaraki tomura #all might #nana shimura #analysis #hero society #lov #league of villains #paranormal liberation front #PLF #midoriya izuku #all for one #as an aside this is my blog's 5000th post #so that's pretty neat

[fafulous]

Take Me Home (1/5)

Andy Barber x Reader (Post!Defending Jacob)

Summary: After the unfortunate events of the trial and after, a depressed Andy Barber decides to call it quits and start a mundane life far away from Newton. He decides it is best to have a fresh start away from prying eyes and alone, but he never thought his caring neighbor (and her son) would change all of that.

Themes: MAJOR D.J. SPOILERS ((The series is following the BOOK ENDING and not Show)), Sad and soft Andy Barber, Single Mother Reader. Cursing.

a/n: I hope you guys like it. We all know Andy deserves some softness :’)

The one thing you cherished about your neighbourhood was its calming silence.

Away from the hustle and bustle of the 21st century fast pacers. It did not give you any force to lead a rush life. No matter how hard life was you enjoyed this serenity, just like your neighbours.

You were the only one relatively younger in your neighbourhood, for this place was normally owned by retired elderly after experiencing everything life had to offer. But for you and your three-year-old little son, it was a second chance at life. All your neighbours except for that one loner house beside you was occupied by retired veterans and war heroes.

But that soon changed.

A man by the name Andrew Barber had moved to the house beside you. You got to know one day when you saw a huge truck with people going in and out of the house with clean and neat furniture.

Seeing all that, your vivid imagination went running and tried to picture how this man would look. Judging by the furniture (which made no sense), you thought your new neighbour was someone who would be simple and felt it wasn’t going to be someone who was, you know, old.

Oh boy were you right.

Once those packers went by, you saw him.

Andrew Barber was nothing what you thought out to be. Tall and broad, his back muscles would tell you its own tale. From afar you noticed his biceps never failed him too, for his arms screamed whenever he went in and out with a huge piece of cardboard boxes. His facial hair was a bit messy, like he is just moving into his new abode right after a sloth nap. You weren’t sure but his blue eyes had a dull finish that were deep embedded in his sunken face.

You also took notice of his sleek black Audi A6 which was parked by his driveway; It was not easy to peel your eyes away from its beauty.

This was wrong. You’re a single mother with the most adorable kid you could’ve ever asked for. After a struggle of six months your son Nikolai and you have found a hint of stability; single parenting is never easy unless you get the hang of it.

And you did.

Before you could offer any refreshments, your neighbours beat you to it. They were too kind. They were the elderly parents whose snobbish kids only visited once a year. Hence you decided to fill the gap in their lives. They loved you and you loved them back.

So now you decided that maybe when the time is right, you could meet him in a day or two and get to know each other.

Right?

 —

This was new for Andy. Very foreign too.

To live a life without Laurie and Jacob was something he never expected to happen after the trial. It’s been a good handful of weeks since it happened. He did not even have the heart to think more about his son. His eyes would cloud with tears and the whole day would go wasted in drowning himself in sorrow and liquor.

He was still mourning after all.

So he decided to move. Move away from his house that reminded of his 17 years of a marriage that only seemed successful, only for it go wrong in an impulse. Move away from all of the local tabloids that hinted at himself being a next murderer. 

Move away from his unsuccessful lineage.

Scattered around him were boxes of his stuff at his new house, his stuff alone. Laurie’s stuff was nearly packed and sent away to her parents’ home, the last time he’ll ever associate himself with her family.

Yes, her family.

Andy did file for a divorce while she was in prison, but that was a long procedure until it became official. However hard it was to sign those papers; it was as hard to let go of Laurie. Because if he lets her go, he has nobody.

A lone sunken soul.

The packers truck got in half of his belongings, the remaining which will come tomorrow. It was difficult moving especially with one single person. His neighbours were all elderly, so surely, he could not ask anyone for help. Also, it was another reason he chose this locality, he could be alone while he knew he lived in a tightly knitted community filled with respected war veterans. 

He was extremely taken aback when many of his neighbours offered him freshly cooked food and refreshments to get over the day. He was thankful. They knew about his past and still they accepted him and asked him to reach out if any help was needed.

Andy’s day went ahead unpacking his clothes first, which took his time. He wondered if he’d ever need the fashionable suits and ties, he wore to work. There was a job opening at a swimming instructor at the local community gym; all he needs are those Speedos. But nevertheless, he kept then all back, trying to keep his mind preoccupied in cleaning.

But all that effort seemed futile for every memory crashed down when he unpacked his wedding tux.

He felt too claustrophobic, buried his hand in his face. He no longer had a marriage. He no longer had anyone to look after.

He no longer had anyone to look after him.

But amidst all this chaos in his foggy mind, he hears a lovely toothy giggle of a child. 

He peeks out of his window to see a young mother and her small son sitting in their backyard with a picnic spread in front of them, while the little boy kept tripping over the grass purposefully just so he could laugh and make his mother laugh too. Andy had no idea he had a middle-aged family living nearby.

Seeing you and the son spread this familiar warmth inside Andy, reminiscing how he had this. It reminded Andy of a happier time. 

Soon to be replaced with anguish. He would never have that again. He missed feeling the warmth of family, the love of a wife. Life never really gave second chances he believed.

He noticed you, a caring mother placing the little one on your lap while you fed him all the scrumptious food. He didn’t fail to miss how your eyes shined with happiness. A happy woman is always a pretty woman at heart; it is something he used to tell himself. A soft chuckle left out of Andy’s lips as he saw the boy eat the food messily, but you seemed to be patient, responding lovingly towards his naughty antics. 

Her husband is one lucky son of a bitch.

He could watch you two all day, but that would be extremely inappropriate. Right now, Andy wanted his newfound house to look like a home.

Next day went by and it didn’t seem like he was getting anywhere near getting his house ready. He was waiting for another truck to get more of his stuff while he sipped on some bear till the movers arrived. They unloaded most of his stuff at his lawn and went away.

“Need a hand moving those boxes?”

Andy turned around to a gentle voice of the same woman who had he had seen yesterday with the small child.

You.

A chilly afternoon, he wasn’t surprised you sporting a loose, fluffy knitted woollen pullover with black leggings. Your hair was tied up in a bun and then noticed that he was probably staring at you for a long time.

“Uh- No. I’m fine, thank you.”

But you kept standing there looking at him smirking. He was literally struggling to carry all those boxes “Your body language says something else.”

When he looked up you saw his sunken eyes with even more detail as though the man hasn’t slept in days, “Would I be desperate man if I said yes?”

You chuckled, “Not at all. I’m Y/N Y/LN.”

“Andrew Barber”, he stretched out his hand for a warm greeting with a firm handshake. The feeling of his rough palms sends small jitters to you, but you ignored it; and just like that you resumed. 

You helped him lift the bigger boxes to his house even though you knew he carried most of the weight. Two could always get the work done sooner. Both of you didn’t talk much for these 20 minutes but it was a comfortable silence while both of you took sneaky glances at each other’s features.

When you neared him, you realized he was lot more than just handsome. Sunken face was holding two blue eyes that would be enticing if he had put any effort to put any life in them. His beard was neatly trimmed although scruffy, just like you saw yesterday.

Andy on the other hand was just too despondent to, you know, check you out. He thought you to be a beautiful woman with a kind heart, especially after seeing you and your son yesterday.

He even thought of asking you about your son and family, but that would be too intrusive he wondered.

Andy thought you’d leave after moving the boxes but you insisted you’d stay to help unpack his stuff and maybe cook some lunch for him since he didn’t even unpack his kitchen utensils out. He was ready to accept the help only for a second.

The Andrew Barber he knew before the events of the trial would have gladly accepted, maybe even made lunch for the beautiful lady, instead of you, who graciously offered him help. He was divorced now so there was nothing stopping him.

But do you really deserve a fresh start with a lady Andy?

Would she be here if she knew who you really were?

His mind was plagued. He moved here with the intention of a fresh start but, he wondered if anyone would actually accept him. He decided for himself that they wouldn’t.

“It’s alright Y/N. Thanks for your help.”

There was no way a man could set up his home all alone you thought. “Mr. Barber, are you sure? I really have no problem. I’m completely unoccupied at the moment. Besides Nikolai-”

“No.”

You blinked at his curt reply.

“I’m good Y/N. I can take care of the remaining stuff here. You can go now.”

Looking at him made you realise how conflicted he was. His words likely meant that he didn’t require your presence but his whole demeanour looked like just wanted some god damn company. He didn’t mind your help at first, but at the same time now he was pushing you away. What changed?

So much for making acquaintances with the new neighbour, you thought.

Without saying anything you stiffly nodded, Andy realizing the offence written all over your face, and saw you walk away from his abode closing his door politely.

It was probably for the best to keep distance from a kind woman like you. He knew you were trying to get acquainted with him like any normal person would, but Andy was firmly grounded that he and normalcy would never go back again.

The minute you left he opened another beer bottle to sink himself. This fresh start for Andy was just bullshit.

–

You rushed back the minute you closed Mr. Grumpy Cat’s door and made a beeline to your home, only to see your son playing on the countertop with one your elderly neighbour. 

“Thank you, Mr. Arthur, for taking care of Nikolai. I hope he didn’t cause much trouble.”

“I’d do anything for you sweet pea, Nikolai was a sweetheart.” The old man chuckled and turned to leave, “By the way last weekend’s pot pie was delicious. I had to make it up to you.”

Returning a hug, you thanked your neighbour again and leaped your son in your arms, attacking him with kissed while he spurted giggles. “Mommy it tickles!”

“Guess what happened peaches? I met our new neighbour”

Nikolai clapped his hand “Mista Wandew Bahhba?”

Your son was hell bent on knowing the name of the newcomer after he laid his eyes on the stylish black Audi. Boys always know their toys.

You nodded, “He’s a grumpy man peaches. I have no idea what to do with him.” And just like that you began speaking with Nikolai. He was your only company to talk. He never really understood anything, but your talented son did a fairly good job of putting up a pretense to hear.

“I offered him help and he says yes. Then I kindly ask him if I can help him more, you know like cook homemade spaghetti. But instead he becomes snippy with me?”

“Woh no,” your son whispered to your exclamation, which in reality was for his superhero figurines falling on to the floor. “I like his cahr mommy.”

“So do I Niko, but I so do not like him,” you paused and gave him a kiss on the forehead, “Guess we’re the only sunshine in this neighbourhood peaches.”

—

Days went by and you rarely interacted with your new neighbour.

Oh and when it did, it really never went well for you.

The first time was when a few standard posts under the name of Mr. Barber arrived at your doorstep, since he wasn’t available at his house. Like any other hospitable neighbour, you signed the post and made sure to drop it by him when he gets back.

"Uh Mr. Barber the post man dropped this by at our doorstep since you weren’t available. I thought I should give it to you.”

Andy opened the door with a few knocks and saw you standing with a few posts in a fluffy cable knit sweater. He took the posts from you, gently brushing over your hands. He perused through them quickly and gave you that conflicted stern look.

“I appreciate it Mrs. Y/L/N, but next time I’d like to collect my own posts irrespective of its nature. You can tell them I can collect it from the post office”

Was this man for real?

You crossed your arms and gave him back that stern look too. He wasn’t going to get away without you throwing shade. “Oh you know Mr. Barber I was just trying to be a good neighbour. It’s not like I’m dying here to get associated with you.”

He gave you a nasty grin which triggered you to make you leave away from his threshold.

Andy thought for a moment that he already crossed the line with the wrong woman.

The next time you met him was probably the last time you would ever meet him.

Your shift at the library got too late, for you were the Librarian of the local Library. You didn’t have to worry much about picking up your son late for he was at Mr. Arthur’s.

But coming home realising that he was sitting on the front porch of Andrew’s house made you park your car haphazardly in your driveway and run up to your child, ignoring Andrew’s presence.

“I’m so sorry sweetie. What are you doing here Niko?”

Andy interrupted, “Mr. Arthur had to visit the hospital. He was catching the flu and he didn’t want to give it to Nikolai here.”

You didn’t want to meet his gaze, but you forced yourself for you were grateful for this kind gesture. Maybe this Grumpy Cat has a kind heart after all.

“Mr. Barber, thank you so much for taking care of Niko. My phone must’ve been on silent if Arthur wanted to contact me.”

“Oh, don’t thank me Mrs. Y/L/N. I am just filling in the gaps of irresponsible parenting.”

It felt like a blunt hit to your heart. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you heard me.” he whispered so closely that you could smell his musky deodorant with a hint of beer. Your son was out of earshot, sipping on a glass of lemonade that was probably offered by this man. “Trust me I know what happens to a child that is always kept away from their caretakers.”

He quickly went on to say how Nikolai was a special child when your son came near you both and how your family should take more care in your child. You never really listened for your eyes threatened to pierce with tears. No way were you going to cry in front of this man.

“Thank you Mista Wandi.”

“Anytime buddy.”

He went up and shut the door, like it was a personal aimed at you.

And you just stood there feeling numb while Niko tugged on your work coat.

“Let’s go home Mommi.”

The audacity to tell you how to be a parent. Did he even have a child? Does he even know how to it is to take care of a child single handed?

But those questions never mattered. No matter how positive you are in life, its never nice to hear someone spew your flaws on to your face.

Meanwhile minutes passed when Andy soon realised how he had royally fucked up. Everyday around 5pm you and your child would come along to the backyard and have a snack ritual while both of you played or read story books. For Andy, though he chided himself for his stalking behaviour, it brought him a sense of peace to see your son scream with shrills of laughter when he ran around the lawn.

He had nothing against you, yet he was being selfish.

I be mean to her; I stay away from here. Simple.

Today however, Nikolai sat facing away from his ypu munching on freshly baked cookies while you sported a tear stained face. He felt a twinge when he saw you staring straight ahead with a blank stare while tears rolled down. His heart successfully sunked when he saw Nikolai trying to wipe your tears and hug you. Andrew then sat down dramatically on his chair when he saw you breakdown into your son’s fragile shoulders.

Apologies wouldn’t fix this. It would, but Andrew Barber the resilient thought that being obnoxiously rude to someone he wants to be close to will make them hate him.

He never thought it would hurt you.

He decided not to take any efforts in an apology; or it could take more than an apology.

—

A few weeks passed by and you tried your level best and succeeded in avoiding banters with Mr. Grumpy Cat. Whenever you saw him, a flurry of rage fell over you. Was it your mistake you were trying to be friendly to your only attractive neighbour?

Strike out attractive. A mean soul was never attractive.

Andrew Barber on the other hand dreaded what had happened; he was a little too late to the party to realise that your house had no male inhabitant, except for that one man who had made a visit.

He soon deduced that you were a single mother.

Too late rather Andy.

And when he recalled what he had said to you, he wanted you to slap him in the face. Hard enough to have a bruise that lasted for a year.

Nikolai and you always woke up late on a weekend morning. Both of you always shared and slept in the same room for Nikolai had regularly occurring nightmares.

You never realised but you and Niko woke up a small commotion outside your house, or probably his house.

Plus, the other day it so happened Nikolai’s father paid a terribly long visit, pleading you to take him back into your life. He felt apologetic for what he did. But that lingering memory was soon cut off by Grumpy Cat’s voice.

Knowing his tendencies to irate his neighbours, (or maybe just you exclusively) you ignored it and began serving late breakfast pancakes for your son. But you soon stopped when you heard a loud, hoarse bellow.

“GET OFF MY LAWN!”

You looked outside of your window to see a bunch of vans and the reporters standing outside Andy’s lawn. Niko ran up to you and carried him over your hip for the little one heard the scary yell too.

Andy’s car was parked haphazardly on the pavement. A pair or more of reporters were taking pictures of him and his vandalised garage door.

“Oh my god.”

You put down Niko and asked him to play with his toys. Yes, you hated Andrew but what you saw on his now tainted garage door made you want to retch. It was such a distasteful thing to do. It appeared as if a spray can paint was used to write whatever it was on the door:

MURDERER, YOU WILL ROT IN HELL TOO.

Andy crouched down on his knees, his hands covering his face and ruggedly running his hands through his hair, while he kneeled down in front of the vandalism.

The very reason he moved away from Newton was now on his garage door.

You wanted to go out and help him, but your ego wouldn’t let you. Why should you help a man who was nothing but mean to you all this while?

Luckily enough you saw Mr. Arthur and a couple of his old friends admonishing the press. They threatened that this community was filled with retired war veterans and that they would charge them for community trespassing and disrupting the lives of people who have lost a limb and more for this country.

Hearing that threat made the desperate amateur reporters leave from the vicinity as soon as possible.

Andy stood up and tried to process this whole situation, looking around for any sort of help, only to lay his eyes on the faint image you from your window.

You expected him to shout and rage and ask you to fuck off from staring at his pitiful state. But he didn’t. You would never forget those embarrassed sunken eyes, silently pleading for help.

He didn’t deserve this. You have no idea about his past or who he was to garner such attention, but this was just cruel. He soon averted from your gaze and went on to thank his fellow elderly friends and made his way inside home.

Later in the evening, you caught Andy scrubbing the ugly writings with cloth and soap water. After a while, he took a few steps behind and saw that they words were still there but faded.

“I had some grey paint for Nikolai’s nursery, but never got the chance to do it.”

Andy turned to that sweet voice of yours and hesitated in meeting your gaze. He was embarrassed, for you stood there, giving out an arm to help him again despite his foul behaviour. He saw little Nikolai standing behind you with his shabby brown hair that reminded him of Jacob, clutching onto your legs while he peaked at him. He didn’t understand what you mean by the whole nursery thing, but he stood up and finally, both of you took in each other’s gaze.

Andy’s eyes were even more sunken than he had when he arrived, his blue orbs sunk in a sea of red. He must have been crying. He saw you were missing your feisty eyes that you always sported. Maybe it’s because you despised him so much.

“It’s not the exact colour of your garage door but it can do the trick I suppose.”

The second you handed over the paint to him, you quickly turned around to head towards your home. But Andy didn’t want to push you further anymore by being a dick. He was ready to apologise.

“Hey please listen up! I really am s- “

“No no no,” your voice trembled; this habit of crying while you were angry was just exasperating you wondered, “I think its best we don’t hold conversation Mr. Barber. This will be probably my last interaction with you; what happened to you was horrid and ugly. You don’t deserve that. That much I know”

Andy was hesitant, embarrassed. “Mrs. Y/L/N- “

“Quit calling me a missus! I am not even fucking married anymore-” you said drawing quotes in the air, to be interrupted by a little tug at your coat. You realised that your kid was standing next to you. And you swore in front of him. Great parenting.

“Oh Niko,” you picked him up and peppered him with a few kisses, “Sorry for that language. Mommy won’t swear again okay. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah”, the kid nodded and buried his head into your neck and hugging you tightly.

"Let’s go, sweetie. I’m done with this man.”

As you went away the little boy who was wrapped around over your shoulder waved with his short hands to Andy. To Nikolai, Andy was the one who had the coolest car and made the best lemonade (which he had when he was made to wait for his mom). He never really understood the intensity of adults’ arguments. He was just a grateful child.

It was only then Andy realised he had to make it up to you by any means for he stood there alone feeling like a real douchebag with a paint can in his hands.

—

Part 2

—

Taglist (IS OPEN): @sinner-as-saint @captainscanadian, @kakakatey @bluevelvetsam

@mrsbarneswillseeyounow

@anqelicstarc @lcandothisallday @https-bucky @readermia @chrisevansforever @ruthyalva96 @thedarkplume @sammyfresh @bloglovelylady @stuckys-dirty-girl @rindaastridfreakinreign @buckys-plums3 @marvelouspottering @sweetlittlegingy @emilykjhgsj @poppunkdork @bval-1lovepeacefood

@captainchrisstan @hista-girl @xlanawriter

@denisemarieangelina @xoxabs88xox @adreamemporium @yoncevans @oceanlenny @ididntchoosethislife @evansinlove @ninaminaromina @sodonutnutnut @nickysurfer28 @captainchrisstan​ @charmed-asylum​ @lovepeacefood @trashboggart​

#Andy Barber #defending jacob #Andy Barber x Reader #Andy Barber Imagines #Chris evans x reader #chris evans imagines #defending jacob spoilers #andy barber smut #andy barber fluff #chris evans #chris evans x you #andy barber imagine #andy barber angst #defending jacob finale #jacob barber #andrew barber

[just-jordie-things]

All I Need My Baby (And A Cigarette) - Stanley Barber

word count: 12,795 warnings: swearing summary: (y/n) (y/l/n) and Stanley Barber may be neighbors, but they haven’t been friends since they were children.  Stan plans on changing that, even if (y/n) is a bit more of a popular girl now.  He’s pretty convincing though... and charming... + based (very loosely) on this song ___

[ i never read ya ]

“Hey, sunshine!”

When (y/n) answered the phone, she wasn’t expecting such a delighted voice on the other end.  She honestly thought that it was going to be Dina, calling her to invite her over, maybe even to go dress shopping, since homecoming was just a week away.  

But of course it wasn’t Dina.  Dina was busy.  With Brad.

“Stanley?” She asked, confused to have heard his voice.  “How’d you even get my number?”

Stanley Barber was… well, he was a strange guy.  They lived on the same street, with Sydney Novak’s house just a block away from his.  Because of their proximity, she’d known him her whole life.  

When they were kids, they’d walk to school together.  She supposed their parents didn’t want them walking by themselves at such a young age.  When they were in middle school, they had a few classes together, and more often than not, would partner up.  Since they were both outcasts, it was easier than trying to find someone who wanted to work with them.  She found a certain comfort in having Stan around and always willing to work with her.

And now, in high school, he made it a point to say hi to her on her walk home from school.  Sometimes he’d even walk with her, usually telling her about his weird day, sometimes giving her a record to listen to.  But she wasn’t the same person that she was when they were kids.  She had grown up a lot, matured.  And with that came a natural beauty that the people at school flocked to.  With beauty comes popularity, and so he didn’t see her around as much.  

They were friends, kind of.  They were friendly acquaintances.

But not close enough for him to be calling her.

“Syd gave it to me,” He answered.  “You want to come over?”

“What?” She asks, like she didn’t understand the question.

She finally sits up from bed, since she’d been laying there since she got home from school.  Pulling the cord on her phone with her, she looked over at the clock.  8:15.

“It’s kinda late” She says, like that’s the only reason stopping her from going over to his house right now.  They got along, but they didn’t hang out together, and she’s certainly never been over to his house.

“So?” He replied.  “It’s the perfect time of night for a drive”

“A drive?” She asks.  “You don’t have any other friends to ask?”

“If I wanted to ask someone else, why would I ask you?”

“That doesn’t make sense” (y/n) sighed, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes.

“You want to hang out or not?” He asked.

She mulled it over for a minute, weighing her options.  It was either stay in bed the rest of the night, or go hang out with an almost total stranger.

“Alright,” She sighed, kicking off her blankets.  “I’ll be there in a few minutes”

“Great!” He replied, before hanging up the phone.

As she got up to go, she wondered if she should change, since she’d worn these clothes all day and then came home and slept in them.  But it was just Stanley, who cared if Stanley thought she looked like a hobo in her messed up sweater and jeans.

So with that, she pulled on her shoes and headed out the door.

It was pretty chilly for september, so she walked quickly to Stan’s house.  And when she arrived, he opened the door before she could even knock.

He looked neat and disheveled all at once.  In a tee shirt and bright yellow cardigan, paired with trousers, and… bare feet.  She couldn’t decide what was more odd, his lack of shoes or the sunglasses on his head even though the sun had already set.  She gave him a confused once over, but he spoke before she could.

“Ready?” He asked, an excited grin on his face.

“I guess” (y/n) shrugged back.

He nods, walking outside and shutting the door behind him.

“I know a really great place to smoke, if you want.  If you smoke, I don’t wanna like, peer pressure you, or anything” He suggested as they walked up to his car.

“You’re not going to wear shoes?” (y/n) asked, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Nah, who needs em” Was all he said, before opening the passenger door for her.

(y/n) thanks him quietly as she gets in.

His car smells like pot, and somehow, fruit.  Something citrusy that she can’t quite place.  It’s a strange combination, but something about it was all the more perfect for his car.

Stan gets into the driver's seat, and starts the car with an eager bounce.  (y/n) can’t help but chuckle a bit.

Stanley Barber was one odd duck.

“So have you thought about uh, you know, homecoming?” He asked, drumming his thumbs on the wheel.

“Homecoming?” (y/n) repeats softly.  “No, why?”

“Just wondering,” Stan replied with a shake of his head.  “You know, cause some people are already asking dates, and stuff”

“It’s kinda far out” She mumbles, eyes casting out the window.

“Well, you know, a week,” Stan responds.  “But yeah, it’s so weird that it’s our last one”

“I’m pretty relieved.  Dances aren’t really my thing”

“I guess its your last chance to make it your thing,” He says.  “If you wanted to”

(y/n) looks over to him curiously, and for a second she thinks that he’s asking her to homecoming, before she realizes that it’s a dumb thing to assume, and she shakes her head.

“I don’t want to” She answers.

She wonders if this is enjoyable for him.  Sitting in near silence with her, and only getting short answers.  Sure, she knows she could be more talkative, if she wants to.  But she didn’t understand why he wanted to hang out with her of all people.

Finally he parks the car, and she looks up to see that they’re parked under an overpass, in front of a large graffitied painting reading Brownsville on the cement wall.  Her brows furrow as she gets out of the car and follows him up to the wall.

“Why here?” She asks, and Stan hoists himself up on the ledge.

She mimics him, sitting next to him while he fumbles through his pockets.  She just watches him, a curious glint in her eye.  But it felt the longer she spent trying to figure him out, the harder it was.  Like his personality was changing every five minutes.

He pulled out a case, and popped it open to reveal to her a couple of blunts, and a lighter.

“You smoke often?”

“No,” She hums in response, taking the blunt and lighter when he offers them to her.  “Not in a year, actually.  I kinda… uh… stopped”

She puts the blunt to her mouth and flicks the lighter, before taking in a deep breath, inhaling for as long as she could hold it.  She handed them back to him, before letting out a slow exhale, and watching the smoke dissipate into the air.

“And here I am pressuring you into smoking again?” He asked, taking a quick puff.

“It’s not like that,” She said quietly, shaking her head.  “I just um… never really felt like it anymore,” She continued.  “And I think that once I realized I was on my own I didn’t want to risk um… feeling worse, you know? Like I didn’t want those feelings amplified,”

Stanley nods, but he doesn’t comment.  That was the most she’d said to him all day, and it felt… heavy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“We should hang out more often,” He says before she could regret opening up.  “I don’t know why we haven’t before”

She looks over at him, taking the blunt when he offers it to her.  Her brows are knitted together, but there’s an awkward smile on her face, like she was trying to conceal it but it slipped out anyways.  

“Because we’re strangers” She answered, looking down at the half-smoked blunt in her fingers, before taking another hit.

“We’re neighbors” Stanley said, like it was supposed to change everything, and make them friends.

“Not really,” (y/n) shrugged.  “I’m a couple houses down from you”

“So?” He replied.  “We grew up together, we walked to school together.  In the movies we’d be, like, best friends by now.  Probably even dating”

Her head jerks around, a wild and confused look in her eye as she tried and failed to hold back a laugh.

“Dating?” She repeats.  “You and I? Did you not hear the part about us being strangers?”

Stan chuckles, and takes the last hit of the blunt.

“I’m just saying” He says nonchalantly.

“You could be an axe murderer” Her voice is softer than it should be, and she’s suddenly too shy to look at him.

They sit in silence for a moment, both gazing out at the dark town, trying to find the stars in the cloudy sky.  It feels like it should be a beautiful night, but it isn’t.  It’s cold and foggy.  It’s ugly.

“But you came out with me anyways” Stanley speaks up, far too delayed.

(y/n) looks at him again, a smile tugging on her lips, betraying her.  She doesn’t look away this time, she just keeps smiling at him.

They walk around town for a while, even though everywhere is closed, and after smoking another blunt they’re a bit too faded to do anything anyways.  So they just talk, and enjoy the silence when it would settle between them.

“What’s your favorite band?” Stan asks, while (y/n) is balancing herself on the curb of the sidewalk.

Her arms are outstretched as she takes each step, wobbling a bit more than she would have had she been sober.

“I don’t know, it changes a lot,” She answers.  “Maybe Tame Impala.  Or Cage The Elephant”

“Good answers,” Stan says, while he’s skipping between walking on the curb with you and walking on the street.  “Now you get to ask a question”

“Alright…” She muses, letting her mind wander to a good thing to ask him.

She knows she could string together any words and he would be eager to answer, but she racks her brain for a good idea anyways.

“Will you move when you’re older?” She asks him.

He’s walking in the street now, but he’s so tall that when she turns to look at him she’s barely looking down.

“Like, out of Brownsville?” He asks, and she nods.  “Well ideally, of course.  Wouldn’t you?”

She nods, but something about the way her eyes softened lead him to believe that she wasn’t so sure.

“There’s not a whole lot of opportunity here, don’t you think?” Stan says, “I mean, what are your options for a career? Working at the school? Or waitressing? That’s not a life for me.  I’d be a terrible waitress”

“You’d be a waiter, Stan” She says, but he dismisses the idea.

“No way, I’m moving outta here first chance I get”

“Do you know where you’re going to college?” She murmurs, but he ignores that too.

“It’s my turn for a question, don’t break the rules,” He chided playfully.  “What’re you doing tomorrow?”

“That’s your question?” She giggles, still the tiniest bit high.

“You have to answer it, it’s the rules”

“Yeah yeah,” She shakes her head.  “Maybe going to Ricky Berry’s party, I don’t know”

“Really? You?”

“Doesn’t that count as a question-?”

“You just don’t seem like the party type,” He says before she can scold him for breaking his own rules.  “Since you have a thing against fun”

“What? I don’t have anything against fun-” Again, he doesn’t let her finish.

“You do too,” He argues.  “You hate homecoming, you didn’t want to hang out tonight, you’re a funsucker”

(y/n) laughs, and shoves at his shoulder, effectively losing her own balance and stumbling to walk in the street by his side now.  Neither of them say anything as their arms swing against each other from their close proximity.

“I am not,” She mutters.  “I just don’t have… friends”

“What? Yes you do”

“No I don’t” She replies with a bitter laugh.

“You have more friends than me,” Stan says.  “Aren’t you buddies with Dina? You’re a popular girl you know”

“Me?” She laughs again, shaking her head wildly.  “No, no I’m not,”

She wishes she’d brought a jacket, had she known they’d be walking around town in this weather then she would have.  But she settles for wrapping her arms around herself to preserve warmth.

“And I’m not really Dina’s friend anymore” She adds in a softer voice.

“Oh” Is all Stan can think to say.  He doesn’t know how to ask her what happened without making it awkward, so he doesn’t.

It’s quiet again as they head back to his car, but not totally uncomfortable.  She’s getting used to being in silence with Stan, and finds that it’s nicer than being in silence at home alone.

“Are your parents gonna be upset that you were kept out late by a possible axe murderer?” He asks when they get in the car.

“No,” She says with a small giggle.  “They’re out of town on a joint business trip”

“Oh, cool” He says, nodding his head.

“They have been for the past week,” (y/n) adds.

Oh.

“Sometimes I wonder if sometime they’ll go and just… not come back”

Oh.

“You could move in with me” Stan suggests, without really thinking.  He wants to blame it on the pot, but his high wore off twenty minutes ago.

She turns to him, that same confused look on her face that she kept giving him earlier.  The words linger in her mind for a minute before she lets out a soft laugh, and shakes her head.

“You’re so strange, Stanley Barber” She muses

[ you said i’m different, i’m difficult ]

Ricky Berry was not a friend of (y/n’s), although more often than not he did seem to think he was.  Like right now, approaching her in the living room, offering her a bottle of beer.

“No, thanks” She says, pushing the bottle away.

“Since when do you not drink?” He asks with a smirk, the kind that makes her want to slap him until it goes away.

Her brows furrow and she clenches her jaw.

“I’m not in the mood” She forces out between her teeth.

Ricky puts his hands up as though he’s surrendering, and this only deepens her newfound hatred for the boy.  She didn’t hate him before, she just didn’t like him and his rich-kid bullshit personna.  And she didn’t like the way he treated her like there was something between them, like they’d ever been friends.  They were hardly acquaintances.  She couldn’t tell you a damn thing about him besides that he was on the football team, and she only knew that because of the way he paraded around town in his dumb letterman’s jacket.

He chuckles, drawing her back to reality from the dark thoughts currently swimming in her mind.  Like what it would feel like to break her hand punching him in the face.

“Are you enjoying the party?” He asked her, and before she could even answer he spoke up again.  “Did you come alone?”

Her eyes narrow on his figure for a moment, before she regained control of her disgust.

“I was having a fine time,” She lies.  “And no, I didn’t” She lies again.

“You brought a date?” Ricky asks with a chuckle, like he doesn’t believe her.

And he doesn’t believe her, because as beautiful as the enigma that was (y/n) (y/l/n) was, she was unattainable, and he knew that better than anyone else.  She was an anti-social rose.  Pretty, but didn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone.

“Maybe,” She answers bluntly, quirking a brow at him.  “What’s it to you?”

Ricky mistakes her irritation for flirtation, and makes the poor choice of grinning down at her, and taking a bold step forward.  Without hesitation, she steps back, putting the foot of space between them again.

“Well, had I known you were finally looking for someone to bring you to these sorts of events, you know, as sort of a… boyfriend figure… I would have applied for the position”

She knows he’s trying to be suave, but she can’t help the bubbling laughter that almost erupts from her chest.  She’s lucky to have contained it shaking her head and looking away from him.  She can’t believe he’s this much of a tool, it’s almost too amusing.

As she looks away from him, her eyes catch another figure, and her mood lifts instantly.

Stanley’s standing in the middle of the living room, wearing the cutest baby blue suit she’s ever seen.  He looks very out of place, and a bit lost, but when his eyes meet hers, he seems to relax, and he gives her a welcoming grin.

“- and anyways, I think I’d be an excellent choice for you, (y/n).  I mean, let's be real, you’re royalty, I’m royalty, and we’re a perfect match.  I could treat you like a princess, you know-”

“Gotta go,” (y/n) says, holding a hand up to Ricky’s face to silence him, already turning to head away from him.  “Oh, also, your application has been rejected, so sorry,” She tells him with a giggle that she just couldn’t hold back.  “You just weren’t a good fit”

She’s still laughing as she wanders off towards Stan, who seems puzzled by her laughter, but he’s just glad she approached him.

“Wow…” She says, looking him up and down.  “Look at you”

“It’s nice, right?” He asks, smoothing his hands over the lapels of the jacket.

(y/n) nods, raising her eyebrows and grinning as she looks back up at him.

“So, what’re you doing here?” She asks him.  “I didn’t peg you as the party type either”

“I’m not any type,” Stan shrugs.  “I just felt like getting out of the house, and here is better than sitting at the overpass by myself”

“You want to snag a couple drinks and get out of here?” She asks, and the shock on his face makes her laugh, and quickly shake her head.  “Not like that, dork,” She says, “Let’s just take this party somewhere else, it’s not my scene”

“It-it’s not my scene either” He agrees, and she grins.

He likes this side of (y/n).  The bubbly side, where she smiles and laughs and isn’t so afraid to talk to him like she had been before.

As he followed behind her to the kitchen so they could steal a couple bottles of anything they could get their hands on, he couldn’t help but look her over.

She’d swapped out her sweater and mom-jeans for a black sheer long sleeved button down, and much skinnier jeans.  He had to force himself to look away before studying the shirt enough to see her skin beneath it.  Not that it was hard, it was a very light and see-through material.

He wondered for a minute if she wore it to be looked at, and then his mind wandered off to the image of her and Ricky talking a few minutes ago, and how close they were standing.

“Are you and Ricky like… a thing?” He asked.

Her head popped up from where she’d gone digging through the fridge.

“What?” She asks, exasperated from a question that shouldn’t have been difficult.  “No, gross” Her brows furrow and her lips curl into a slight snarl, and Stan feels relief spread through him that she looks so disgusted by the idea.

She hands him two bottles, and snags two of her own, and then points towards the back door so they could sneak out easily.

“Do you know any other good hiding places?” She asks, pushing her hair back behind her ears when the breeze whips it in her face.

“I know lots of great hiding places,” He responds.  “But I think I have the best idea for a new one”

“Great” (y/n) grins, and they get into his car to drive off to another mystery place.

It’s chilly, but she rolls the window down, and leans her head out of it to enjoy the night.  The clouds from last night had disappeared, revealing the stars, and she grins as her eyes count them.  It’s useless, but it passes the time, because Stan’s been driving for a while.

He keeps casting glances over at her, letting his mind wander to all the beautiful things about her he’s never really noticed before.  Sure, she was gorgeous, that was common knowledge.  You only needed eyes to know that.

He hadn’t gotten to see her in the moonlight last night, and he sure is glad that he can now.  Her eyelashes cast shadows over her cheekbones, which, in this lighting, are even more defined and frame her whole face like she’s the subject of a painting.

He thinks she should be the subject of a painting.

Her hair flies around from the wind, but she’s given up on holding it back, and just let’s it do whatever it wants.  Every few minutes her eyes would close contently, and he wondered what thoughts she was getting lost in, but he didn’t ask, he lets them be private.

When he finally stops the car, (y/n) looks out to see where he’s taken them.

“The water tower?” She asks, helping him with the beer.

“Yep” He replies with a proud grin, and heads up to it.

As she watches him go, her eyes catch to where he’s heading to, and she jogs to catch up to his side.

“We’re going up there?” She asks when he steps onto the first rung of the ladder.

Her eyes wander up to it’s height, and she feels dizzy just looking at the ledge that the ladder leads to.

“You’re not scared of heights, are you?” He asks her, putting a beer bottle in each of his pockets.

“No,” She answers him quickly.  “I just… don’t want to climb a hundred feet on a fifty year old ladder” She adds in a weaker voice.

“Do you want to go first?” He asks, stepping off the ladder and gesturing for her to go ahead.

“What, am I supposed to believe you’ll catch me if I fall?” She asks in a bored tone.

“At least I could break your fall” Stan shrugs, and she laughs nervously.

With one more glance up to the top, she lets out a shaky sigh, and nods her head.

“Okay” She mumbles.

She tucks the bottle of beer in her jeans, neck first.  They hit her stomach awkwardly with every bar she climbs, but there’s no way she’s getting up there and not drinking.

“You’re doing great!” Stan calls from a few feet below her.

“Please don’t encourage me” She says, and keeps up the motion of climbing as best she can.

She doesn’t want to look down, or outwards.  She doesn’t want to look up either, but that’s better than seeing how far from the ground she is.  It takes quite a while to get to the top, and when she grabs the last bar, she lets out a cheer, and quickly scrambles onto the ledge.

There’s about three feet of metal landing that sticks out from the water tower itself, and much to her relief it’s surrounded by a barred gate.  She’s quick to sit down, taking the bottles out of her jeans and placing them beside her, while he wraps her arms over the bar.

Stan sits beside her not long after, cracking open one of his drinks and smiling widely at her.  She opens one of her beers as well, and clinks her bottle against his while he’s drinking from it.

“I can’t believe you got me to come up here” She sighs, swinging her legs around comfortably.

“It didn’t take that much convincing,” He told her.  “Give yourself some credit, you came up here on your own choice”

He smiles at her like he’s proud of her, and makes a blush dust along her cheeks.

“You’re right, that was really brave of me,” She said, only partially teasing.  “But I wouldn’t have come up here if it wasn’t for the company,” She tells him sweetly.  “So thanks, Stan”

She touches her bottle to his again as though to cheers to him.

“Right back at you” He says, trying to be slick, but he’s getting nervous and his voice is softer than he intends it to be.

It’s quiet, and (y/n) leans forward to rest her chin on top of her arms, still holding onto the bar.  She’s enjoying the view, the peace and quiet.  This is the perfect hiding spot.

“The height doesn’t seem so bad once you’re up here,” She murmurs, and Stan hums in agreement.  “I feel like it works that way with everything.  Things aren’t so bad once you get through them, you know?” She’s thinking aloud, not looking for a response, or even an acknowledgement of her letting her thoughts run free.  “I hope it’s like that with this Dina thing.  Like once I move on and tell myself I’m enough for me, it’ll be easier,”

She looks over to Stan now, but his eyes are trained upwards, scanning over the stars.  She smiles at him, even though he doesn’t see.

“And I think it’ll be easier now that I’ve met you,”

He looks at her once she says that, his cheeks pink, and his brown eyes rounded with curiosity and hope at her gentle words.  They remind her of a doe’s eyes, if only for a moment.

“I’m glad I met you,” She hums.  “Like, really met you.  I’m sorry I didn’t get to know you sooner”

“It only would’ve made you run away sooner” He jokes, a short laugh falling from his lips, but he can’t laugh too much because she just said the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to him and his heart is swelling up like a balloon in his chest.

She giggles with him, but shakes her head.

“Nah, I wouldn’t have,” She says, and then takes a long drink of her beer.  “You have too many good hiding places in plain daylight to run away.  Hiding right in front of people is what I’ve been dying for, you know”

“Like Ricky?” He asks before thinking.

The soft smile on her face falls, but she clears her throat and tries her best to neutralize her expression.  But she tries too hard, and Stan notices.

“Yeah,” She mumbles.  “But I guess from everyone now,”

She looks away from him, gazing with a heartbreaking fondness out at the sleeping town before her.  From the thick land of trees they’d driven through to get here, to the dimly lit houses, the old buildings.  She always thought Brownsville looked like the generic sort of town you could slap onto a postcard and say it was from anywhere in the midwest.

“I used to be able to be myself with Dina,” She said, almost out of nowhere.  “She was my best friend, it’s what she’s there for right?” She asks with a bitter chuckle.  “And then Brad asks her out and… steals her away from me”

(y/n) leans forward to rest her head on her arms again.

“That’s… bullshit,” Stan says.  “Sorry, that’s probably not what you want to hear”

“No, you’re right,” The girl whispers.  “It is bullshit.  Because we promised we wouldn’t change for each other, but now… now she’s popular and going to football games and pep rallies and- and that’s just not me.  I don’t know if it's her either… maybe it is now, I don’t know… I’m sorry, I don’t mean to vent-”

“It’s fine,” Stan says quickly.  “You can vent as much as you want.  It’s just us up here, might as well get it out of your system, right?”

She grins over at him, and raises her glass before finishing it off.

“Anything you have to vent about, then, Stanley Barber?” She questions.

“Nope,” He shrugs after thinking about it for a minute.  “For the first time in a while, I actually kind of like my life.  I like that my dad’s gone 25 days out of the month, I like getting to know you, I feel good”

Her grin only widens at the compliment, and she’s blushing again but she’s not as embarrassed by it this time.

They opened up their second bottles, and clicked them together as the last toast for the night.

“To liking life,” (y/n) muses.  “And to us, of course” She adds.

“Cheers,” Stan nods before they both take a drink.  “So here’s my first question of the night”

“Shoot”

“What’s Ricky Berry want with you, anyway?” He asks.  “Like… is he actually into you or are you a conquest- oh my god, I take that back, I don’t mean it like-”

His nervous ramblings stop when (y/n) begins to giggle, almost choking on her drink.

“No, no, you’re good, I don’t take offense,” She assures him.  “Ricky Berry is… well, besides a tool, he’s a character, in the book of my life,”

The drinks are starting to get to her, just a little bit.

“He’s the guy that tries and tries and tries, and he grows and learns from his mistakes, learns what I don’t want to hear and what’s not working, but somehow, he just finds ways to make new mistakes.  Not once has he asked me out in a coherent- or even normal- manner.  It’s always some line, or some dumb look that he tries”

“How long has this been going on?” Stan asks, his brows furrowed a bit.  

The idea of Ricky ‘Icky’ Berry asking (y/n) out repeatedly pisses him off.

“Nuh uh, it’s my turn for a question,” (y/n) murmurs, drinking as she thought.  “Oh, I know.  What’s your favorite memory?”

“Easy.  When mom was around and she’d make blueberry pancakes before school,” He says, maybe too fast.  “It sounds sad, but… no one could make them like her”

She gives him a warm smile, and reaches out to set her hand over top of his from where it was lying at his side.

“It’s not sad.  It’s sweet.  That’s a really good favorite memory”

He nods, reminiscing in the pleasant image in his head.

“Your turn now,” He says abruptly, not wanting to get lost in his own thoughts.  “How long has Ricky been chasing you around?”

“Oh, I don’t know, two years now, maybe?” She muses.  “I try not to pay him too much mind.  It’s not so important to me”

“Yeah, but… it’s kinda gross that he’s so persistent” Stan says with a cringe.

“You think so?” (y/n) asks.  “I mean, it’s annoying, but it’s never been, like, aggressive, or anything”

“Don’t you think it's the constant hitting on you that makes it aggressive though?” Stan asks.  “I mean, he knows you’re not interested, he should… um… stop” His voice gets quieter towards the end of his sentence, and he’s worried he’s crossed a line, since (y/n’s) gone silent.

“I guess so,” She finally whispers after a long moment.  “I never really thought of it like that”

She takes a few drinks of her beer before setting it down, and moving on to her own question.

“Do you and your dad not get along?”

“Nope,” He answers with a bark of a laugh.  “We never have.  Sometimes I think when I was born he changed his mind on having a baby, and held it against me personally.  But it’s okay.  I resent him too and I barely have to see him.  So.  Win-win”

She wants to be sad for him, because it’s unfortunate that Stan doesn’t get along with the only parent he has left.  But he just seems so… happy.  And she can tell he’s come to terms with it.  So instead she puts on a happy face, because she’s happy for him that he’s made his peace.  

She’d like to make her peace with her parents some day.

“Your turn” She murmurs.

“Alright.  What’s your deepest, darkest secret, (y/n) (y/l/n)?”

She raises her brows at the bold question, and the use of her full name, but she thinks it over carefully.

“And no lying!” He hastily adds.  “That’s not in spirit of the game”

“My deepest darkest secret…”

There’s lots of secrets she could share.  Secrets of her own, secrets of her parents, the few friends she had, hell, her whole life had been keeping secrets.  But now that Stan was asking for one, she didn’t know what to say.

“I used to dream about running away,” She settles.  “It probably started when I turned seven, that’s when my parents started talking about having another baby, to feel satisfied again.  I was pretty young to feel so…”

She blanks on the word she’s looking for, and Stan’s nervous to hear what it was.

“...worthless,” She finishes in a murmur.  “So I would walk up to the bus stops in town, memorize their schedules, just in case I ever needed to make a quick break.  And as I got older I… entertained the idea a little more.  Leaving earlier for school, just to walk long, new paths, ones I could use someday to skip town without anyone knowing.  And when I would walk home I would stall, wander more new places, anything to keep me from seeing them so soon,”

She smiles to herself, remembering the little adventures through Brownsville she would take when she was younger.

“One time after school, I walked around town until six o’clock,” She told him.  “When I got home, I told my mom I was with a teacher and had to stay late,” She licked her lips as her eyes met his, a small, watery smile on her lips.  “She checked the time, she hadn’t realized I was home so late- three hours late,” She whispered.  “I was ten”

“Jesus Christ,” Stan muttered.

His hand twitched under hers.  He wants to hold her hand, properly, fingers intertwined, but he was nervous she’d pull away from him if he made the move.

“Why didn’t you run away?”

“That’s a good question,” She says with a bittersweet laugh.  “I don’t know.  I certainly wanted to… hell, maybe I still do,”

She glances at him again, before whispering.

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll stay a little longer”

He smiles back at her, and he can’t help but let his eyes wander the features of her face.

“So,” (y/n) lets out a short sigh, before asking, “What’s your deepest darkest secret, then?”

“Don’t laugh,” Stan groans.  “And compared to yours, this is lame as fuck.  But… I have bacne”

(y/n) raises a brow, and she does have to hold back a laugh because she can’t believe that’s all he’s got.

“What?”

“Yeah”

“Like…”

“Like zits on my back and shit, yeah.  It sucks.  It’s the worst thing I’ve ever gone through, and that’s saying something, (y/n),” She giggles at his dramatic tone, covering her mouth with the hand that wasn’t laid over his.  “Yeah, yeah.  Laugh it up.  There’s no cure, I’ve done everything possible.  I just have to hope adulthood fixes me”

She’s still laughing, to the point where when it finally dies down, she has to take deep breaths.

He watches her shoulders rise and fall in sync with her chest, and how her fingers reach to her eyes to wipe away the tears that had welled in them from laughing so hard.  And still, he thinks she’s the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

She pushes her hair behind her ears, and turns to him once she’s calmed down, only to find his eyes are already focused on her.

“What?” She murmurs, a hint of a smile tugging on the corner of her lips.

“I… uh… I have my next question” He says, eyes flickering between hers, and the grond far, far below them.

“Go for it” (y/n) grins, eager to hear what strange thing he’s come up with this time.

“Will you, um, if you want, would you want to maybe, um, go to homecoming?” He asks, and it’s choppy, but he lets out a short breath of relief for just getting it out in the right words.  “With me?” He adds as an afterthought.

The smile on her face slowly falls, and despite her heart beating profoundly in her chest, she lifts her hand away from his.

He regrets it.  He wants to take it back but he knows he can’t, not without humiliating himself any further.  He wishes that he could pinch himself and wake up in bed, and find that tonight was just some wild dream meant to lift and then crush his spirits.

It wasn’t a dream, but his spirits were still very crushed.

“Stan…” She whispers, and he prepares himself for the blow.

I don’t like you like that.  You’re just a friend.  Why’d you have to make this weird?

No matter what she ended up saying, it would hurt the same.

“It’s fine, I get it” He shakes his head, not even wanting to hear her excuse.

“You shouldn’t… it’s just…” (y/n) sighs, and closes her eyes while trying to find the right words.  “You just shouldn’t get involved with me, that’s all,” She whispers so softly that it’s a faint mumble to his ears.  “It’s complicated… I’m complicated”

You aren’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t dare say it.

“It’s really fine.  I know it’s not your thing” He says, just wishing she’d stop trying to make him feel better.

“Yeah,” She mumbles.  “You should go with someone that wants to go and- and have a good time with you, you know?” She says.  “Someone that will actually dance and not just sit on the bleachers”

He looks over at her, forcing a smile on his face.

“And here I thought that you weren’t as much of a funsucker tonight,” He teases, making her smile too.  “You really sit during dances?”

“The one that I went to, yes,” She laughs quietly.  “It’s really not my thing,”

It’s comfortable between them again, which they’re both incredibly grateful for.  But Stanley’s hopes are still ruined.  He’d really thought she’d say yes, he had prepared earlier tonight, and even knowing that she had a thing against homecoming he’d thought that maybe he could be her exception.  Apparently not.

She throws back the rest of her beer, hoping that the tension that she’s now created between them will go away on it’s own.  It wasn’t Stanley’s fault, she knew it was her own for turning him down like that.  

And truth was, a part of her did want to go to the dance with him.  It actually sounded… nice.  But the other part of her, the sensible part, reminded her of what she was getting into.  She knew that she wasn’t the easiest person to be around, she would go out and have fun every once in a while, but eventually she’d hole herself back up in her room and be antisocial for weeks on end.  Not to mention how bad it would get once her parents came back.  Reflecting on herself, all she saw was drama, and problems.  It wasn’t fair to Stan for her to involve him in her messy life.

“I have a question for you” She speaks after a few minutes of them drinking in quiet.

“I have an answer” He responds.

“How do you think I’m supposed to get down from here?”

Stan begins to laugh, and she lets out a few nervous giggles with him, but ultimately stares him down for an answer.

“I’m serious,” She said.  “There’s no way in hell I’m climbing down that ladder”

Her eyes were wide and her brows were raised, waiting for him to give her some alternative solution to getting back down to earth.  Which didn’t involve jumping, or the ladder.

“Oh shit, for real?” ___

[ you said i’m missing you ]

Over the next three days, (y/n) made it a point to see Stanley more often.  In the halls she’d say hi, and if she had time to kill she’d walk with him to class and talk about all the random things he likes to talk about.

They hung out a few times in the library, and she started sitting with him at lunch too.  It earned her a few looks, but no one said anything about it.  Not that she cared, she enjoyed Stan’s company, and she wanted to seek it out more.

So on Wednesday night, instead of going to bed early, she decided instead to walk down to the bowling alley.  She’d heard him complain enough about working there to remember, and thought it would be nice to surprise him.

She was surprised that the doors weren’t locked when she got there, since it closes at nine on weeknights, and it was nearing ten o’clock now.  She could tell Stanley was surprised when she walked in, too.

“We’re closed- oh, hey” He smiled when he realized it was only her.

“I think part of the ‘locking up’ duties is actually locking up” She teases him as she wanders inside.

She’d never actually been to the bowling alley.  To be there you either had to have been invited to a birthday party when you were a kid, or have friends and family to go with.  She had neither.

When she takes a seat at the alley Stan’s currently cleaning up, it’s then that she notices the black and blue shiner on his eye.  It’s a little faint, sure to disappear in a day or two, but once it catches her eye she can’t hold back the gasp.

“Oh my god, Stan, what happened?” She asked, already flying up from her seat to get a closer look.

He seems confused by what she’s asking for a moment, and then turns his head away before she can study it too hard.

“Nothing- it’s nothing, don’t worry about it” He tried dismissing it, picking up two of the bowling balls left behind.

(y/n) frowns as she watches him walk away to put them on the proper shelf.

“Stan,” She calls, her tone more demanding this time.  “What happened? Who did that?”

“It seriously doesn’t matter, (y/n),” He responds, and she can tell he’s getting annoyed, but she doesn’t really care.  “It doesn’t even hurt anymore”

Something about how his voice drops, and he can’t look at her while he busies himself with cleaning up, just gives her the answer.  It clicks in her head like a lightbulb moment, and she finds herself grabbing his wrist so he’d stop moving and actually look at her for a minute.

“Was it your dad?” She asks, voice barely rising above a murmur.

She knows she’s right, she can feel it.  She didn’t even know his father was back for the weekend, and it’s unexplainable who she assumed such a thing so quickly, but Stan’s sigh confirms her answer.

Her hand slips down from his wrist to grasp onto his, but he rips it away and walks back to the counter to continue cleaning.

“We don’t have to talk about it-”

“We’re not” He said before she could finish.

It’s not what she wants to hear, they both know that, but she doesn’t want to push him, so she doesn’t.

“Do you want any help cleaning up?” She offers instead, anything to ease his mind and help him out.

“I’m almost done,” He says while wiping down the front counter.  “Just gotta lock up before I go”

She nods, and it goes silent between them while she stands and watches him work.

It’s not a comfortable silence, like she’d gotten used to with him.  The air feels heavy, and she’s drowning herself in her own worries the longer she stands there.  Stan can’t bring himself to look at her, he’s too ashamed, too nervous, and he knows that her eyes are full of tears and her brow is furrowed in concern- he thinks he might cry if he looks at her like that for too long.

“Stan?” She says softly, and he casts a short glance towards her, before quickly staring back down at the counter he’s wiping.  “Could… could you drive me home?”

It’s a simple question, and she doesn’t necessarily need the ride.  The walk to the bowling alley was a short ten minutes, and she didn’t mind walking at all.  But she didn’t want to be alone, and more importantly, she didn’t want him to be alone.  A ride home wouldn’t be too bad, anyways.  She did live on his street.

“Yeah” He answers, just as quiet.

He finishes up cleaning, then motions for him to follow her out the door.

She walks close behind him, and waits patiently while he locks the front door.  The walk silently to his car.

It’s weird that music is playing while neither of them say anything.  She wants to turn it off, be in total silence.  But maybe the music makes it less awkward for him.

The drive is short, and before she knows it he’s pulled up outside of her house.

“Thank you” She whispers out, but she’s still sitting in the passenger’s seat, and has made no move to open the door and get out.

“No problem” He mumbles back, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel while he waits.

She knows she has to either speak up or get out sooner than later, and it’s already been way too long to just sit here and do nothing.  So she takes a deep breath and goes for it.

“You know that you can… you could always um… come stay with me,” She says, eyes flickering over to his anxiously.  “If you wanted,” She added in a softer whisper.  “My parents are out of town till the end of the week… so… you could stay until he’s gone”

He gives her a short, weak smile in response, and nods his head.

“Thanks,” He says quietly.  “But uh… it’s fine.  He leaves me alone, I mean, he’s got it out of his system, so…”

(y/n) nods her head uncomfortably, looking down at her lap and fiddling with her fingers.

“Yeah, yeah that’s good,” She mumbles.  “I’ll see you at school”

She’s getting out of the car fast now, like she can’t do it fast enough, and Stan wants to kick himself as he watches her walk quickly into her house.

She was only trying to help, he thinks, before hitting his head down on top of the wheel and letting out a groan of frustration.

He’ll just have to make it up to her tomorrow. ___

[ they talkin’ now, just block em out ]

(y/n) doesn’t see Stan the next day at school.  Not in the halls, not even in the classes that she might have snuck around to peek into that she knew he had.  It was almost embarrassing, but she was worried about him.  With his dad still in town, and their awkward parting last night, she was starting to get uncomfortable.

She sat alone at lunch.  She could’ve sat with Dina, since Stanley was a no-show.  But she looked pretty busy with Brad and the rest of the football team and cheerleading squad.  And sitting alone was better than that.

She’d been picking around her plate for fifteen minutes now, and there was only another fifteen left in the lunch period.  A part of her wanted to ditch school, maybe swing by his place to see if he was home, but she didn’t want to come across as stalker-y or anything-

“Hey, sunshine,”

The girl almost jumped out of her seat, looking up to see the boy himself plopping down at the table across from her.

“Stanley-!”

“I brought you, uh, something,” He said, handing over a brown paper bag.  “It’s lunch”

There’s a smile on her face as she looks at it.  He’d doodled all over it, flowers and smiles and dorky little scribbles, around the bold lettering that read (y/n’s) Lunch.

“Why?” She asks while opening it up.

“Um, I feel uh.. I feel really bad about last night,” He said anxiously, his hands patting against the tabletop.  “So.. I made you lunch”

(y/n) giggles, pulling out a small tupperware container with a pre-peeled orange inside, and then a snack cake, and then a sandwich.

“What’s on this?” She asked, brows furrowing when he blushes.

“There’s actually three sandwiches in there,” He tells her.  “I didn’t know what you liked…”

She giggles as she looks over her lunch options, and shakes her head.

“Stan, you didn’t have to-”

“Yeah, I- I did,” He says, and (y/n) hands him one of the sandwiches.  “I’m really sorry, (y/n), I was just upset with my dad and I wish I hadn’t taken that out on you, you were only trying to help”

“It’s okay,” (y/n) assures, giving him a soft smile while enjoying her lunch.  “I understand.  It’s okay,” It’s quiet for a moment, before she adds, “Your eye is already looking better today”

He returns a weak smile, before nodding his head a little bit.

“Yeah.  Good thing too.  I don’t want to look stupid at homecoming”

With the cheesy grin that starts to appear on her face, he already knows what she’s going to say.

“I’m sure you’ll find another way to look stupid-“ She starts to tease him, but he’s not having it.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” He says abruptly.

(y/n) shakes her head at him while she laughs, prying open the orange he’d brought for her.  She splits it in half and hands part of it to him.

“So I was thinking of asking Mercedes…” Stan says slowly, eyes trained on the orange.  He’s too nervous to look at (y/n).  “To homecoming”

Mercedes? She thinks.  The holier-than-thou boring girl on the cheerleading squad?

“She’s cute!” (y/n) says encouragingly, her lips tugging into a tight, and rather forced, smile.

“Yeah,” Stan mumbles, and shrugs his shoulders like he’s not so sure.  “She’s nice, I mean, we’re partners in Bio”

Wow.  What chemistry you have.  It takes a lot of effort for (y/n) not to roll her eyes.

“You should ask her” She tells him.  

But her voice is quiet, and she’s intent on peeling the white skin from the orange slices.  Anything to keep from making eye contact with him right now.

“You don’t mind?”

Her eyes shoot up to him at the question, features falling for just a moment before she carefully crafts them into a happier expression.

“I just don’t want to make it weird,” Stan says quickly, because he catches the flicker of a frown on her lips.  “You know… so I just wanted to let you know-“

“Not weird,” She rushes out, shaking her head as well.  “I don’t mind at all.  I told you that you deserve to go with someone you’ll have a good time with”

I don’t know how anyone could have a good time with Mercedes, though, she wants to say, but she keeps her lip zipped.

“Cool” Stanley says, and gives her a thumbs up.

There’s a brief second, maybe even half a second, where she wants to take it back.  Unfortunately, just as she opens her mouth, not knowing what she was going to say, Stan was getting up from the table, and wandering over to another.

No.

“Hey, Mercedes,”

Why do I have to listen to this.

“So I was wondering…”

(y/n) almost covers her hands over her ears.  But she’s frozen in her seat, trapped watching the scene unfold in front of her.  Stan was smiling, and sat down next to the girl as he spoke excitedly about homecoming, and that he’d like to take her.

(y/n) winced, and waited impatiently- maybe just as impatient as Stan- for Mercedes answer.

“Yeah, that sounds great!”

She looks so happy, and it just about tears (y/n’s) heart in two.

Stan looks even happier, and she feels like the biggest jerk on the planet.

And that’s saying something, since Brad Lewis is sitting just a few tables away from her.

She tries her best to block out the conversation that the new pair are having about plans.  He’s picking her up at 7:30, they’ll take a few pictures before heading out, and then he’ll drop her back off after the dance, around 10:00.

Stanley rejoins (y/n) at their lunch table a few minutes later, and she wills herself to give him a smile.

“Sounds like that went well” She says softly, and he grins back at her.

“Yeah, it did”

“Good,” She replies, popping an orange slice in her mouth.  “I’m glad”

They eat in silence for a little bit, and Stan starts to get the feeling that he’s upset her.  Even though it doesn’t make sense, since she’d turned him down, and prompted him to go ask Mercedes.  He doesn’t ask her about it, he’s smarter than that.  But he does wonder if it’s true.

“So what are you going to do that night?” He asks.

“Hm?”

“Friday night, what are you going to do instead?”

“Oh, you know, sit around, plotting against the patriarchy” She jokes, but it’s half-assed, and the laugh she lets out fades weakly back into silence.

“Well, if you change your mind, I could come pick you up”

She smiles, and almost agrees, but just as quickly shuts her mouth and shakes her head politely.

“No, no it’s your night, you should enjoy it with your date”

He wants to remind her that they’re friends, and that means a five minute drive is nothing to him, that he’d be happy to bring her along.  But the bell rings, and she’s quick to grab her bag and shoot off of her seat like a rocket.

“See you after school?” She asks, and Stan nods.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll meet you in the parking lot”

She agrees, and bolts out of the cafeteria without another word.

Stan’s certain that he’s messed up, but he doesn’t understand how, or how to even fix it. ___

[ if you’re over thinking i’ll get high with you // if you’re ever sinking i’ll go down with you ]

They’d only just arrived at the homecoming dance, and already, Stan had gotten himself ditched.

He supposed he shouldn’t have lit a joint in the car.  Apparently Mercedes had a thing against weed, and he hadn’t realized that anyone still gave a shit about it.  He probably shouldn’t have joked about it either.

Her reprimanding him and letting him know he’ll die a crack addict was her way of saying she wasn’t going to be his date tonight.  At least he assumed, because as soon as they walked into the school, she told him to leave her alone, and that she’d be spending the night with her friends.

So for the first twenty minutes of the dance, he found himself sitting on the bleachers.  It would be easier if there was at least one other person there, another loner, another reject that hadn’t gotten a date in time.  But no, he was the only one.  The only loner.

He pulled his sunglasses off his head and put them on.

He contemplated leaving, save himself from further embarrassment.  However he figured he’d be even more if he had to tell (y/n) that he ditched the dance early.

He supposed he could lie.  He wasn’t all that bad of a liar.  Still, (y/n) had a good bullshit detector.

Maybe he could leave now and visit her instead, see if she wants to do literally anything else.  People keep sending him looks, some pitiful, some humored, but both were the same amount of hurtful.

Just as he decided he was going to make a break for it, he froze completely, something in his line of sight stopping and vanquishing all thoughts about leaving- all thoughts about anything really.

(y/n) (y/l/n) was standing there, at the gym entrance, eyes scanning the area- Stan assumed looking for him- with a curious sort of smile on her face.

She hadn’t looked his way yet, so he didn’t mind openly staring at her while she stayed hidden in the doorway.  The dress and makeup she was wearing is what made her beautiful, but there was a different type of beauty to her that he hadn’t seen before.  Something soft and princess-like.

The pale pink dress she wore was simple and silky, and fell just a little past her fingertips, although she was nervously grasping at the material, curling her fingers in and out.

Her hair fell naturally, if not a little curled at it’s ends, and it looked incredibly soft, even from a distance.

Finally, her eyes land on his, and she seems to pause for a minute.  Perhaps to collect her thoughts, or deciding if this was still a good idea.  He can almost see the gears in her head turning.

But a moment later she’s walking up to him, a shy smile on her lips as she tucks her hands behind her back to stop herself from fiddling with her skirt.  She doesn’t want him to see how nervous she is, and she hasn’t realized that he’s been watching her for the better part of a solid minute, so he already knows.

“What are you doing here?” Stan asks, pushing his glasses back on top of his mess of curls once she’s standing in front of him.

“I… um…” She glances around the gym, taking in the balloons, the streamers, the horribly mainstream music playing.  “I changed my mind”

She looks back at him, more bashful than he’s ever seen her before.  In the last week that he’s gotten to know her, he’s noticed that she doesn’t get shy.  She doesn’t blush, and she doesn’t fidget.

The (y/n) before him was a completely different girl.

“No shit,” He responds, a smirk on his face.  “Why?”’

She looks down at her shoes- an old pair of white heels that she once bought at a second-hand store, Dina had told her she’d need them some day, and apparently she was right- and gave a limp shrug of her shoulders.

And then she reaches her hand out to him, waiting patiently for him to stand and take it.

“Come on,” She murmurs.  “I told you that you deserve someone who will dance with you, and not sit on the bleachers”

He chuckles, but his heart is racing in his chest as he extends his hand, gently grasping onto hers as he stands from the bench.  A bright smile flashes across her lips, as even in her heels she has to tilt her head back to look at him.

“And that’s you?” He asks.

Neither of them have moved, not an inch.  They’re standing just a few inches apart, connected only by their hands.  And their eyes, I suppose.

“Looks like it” She mumbles.

He gestures for her to lead the way, and she excitedly pulls him with her onto the dance floor.  She knows people are looking at them, for many reasons, she’s sure.  But she can’t bring herself to look away from Stan.

He take’s their joined hands and reaches upward, prompting her to spin around under his arm.  She gives him a look, but he nods erratically, and she surrenders, giving him a short twirl.

“Oh come on, have some liveliness won’t you?” He mocks her pitiful attempt at dancing.

“I don’t dance-”

“Bullshit, come on, like this,” He says, lifting their hands again, and ducking down dramatically so he can spin around underneath them.  It’s a quick twirl, and when he’s facing her again, his free hand does a little jazzy motion.

She laughs, because he’s adorably entertaining.

“Now you go” He said, waiting for her to give it another try.

She pouts for a second,but when she realizes he’s not going to move until she obliges, she throws their hands up enthusiastically and twirls around on her toes.  The skirt of her dress fans out with the rapid movement, only making her look a thousand times more graceful as she spins.  She gives him a delighted smile as she balances herself on both feet again.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asks teasingly, and she only rolls her eyes back at him.

They continue the cute little dance for the rest of the song, sharing laughs and smiles, and forgetting where they even were for a few minutes.

The next song that plays is slower, not exactly a slow song, but not one that’s easy to dance to like they were before.

She doesn’t wait for him to take her hand this time.  Instead, she reaches her arms up to wrap them around his neck, and takes a tentative step closer.

Stan hesitates a moment before placing his hands on her waist.

“So,” She speaks to clear the tension in the air between them.  “What’d you do to make your date run away?”

He almost laughs at how certain she is that he’s at fault for Mercedes ditching him tonight.  

“Might’ve smoked a little pot outside,” He admitted.  “I guess she thinks I’m an addict now, or something, I dunno”

(y/n) giggles, which turns into full blown bubbling laughter.  Her shoulders are shaking and she’s not swaying with him anymore, all the while Stan stares at her with complete unamusement.

“Come on, Stan, everyone knows she’s obsessed with being pure,” She tells him once her laughter has quietened enough that she can speak.  “You smoked a blunt right in front of her-?”

“Yes!” He stresses the word, and she giggles again, shaking her head.

“You’re hilarious,” She says softly, and begins to sway back and forth with him again.  “I can’t believe you”

As it gets quiet between them, she looks down at her shoes again.  Partially because she doesn’t want to step on his feet as they move, but also because it’s hard to stare at him in silence when they’re so close.

“I asked her what her deepest darkest secret was,” He says suddenly, and she looks up again.  “She didn’t have a good answer”

“What’d she say?”

“Okay so she didn’t answer at all.  She actually said that it was a weird question” He confesses.

“It is a weird question,” (y/n) repeats, brows furrowed, and quickly follows it with,  “But that’s the point”

Stan shrugs in agreement.

“She doesn’t get it” He says with a small smile.

“No, she doesn’t” (y/n) hums back, and then she’s looking at the floor again.

“Hey, um…” He starts to speak but he slows his words and licks his lips.  “Thanks.  For coming, I mean”

She nods her head, and self-consciously pushes her hair back behind her ear.

“Yeah,” She murmurs.  “You know I- I just figured it’s um… it’s our last homecoming… so…” The longer she stammers over her words, the pinker her cheeks turned, but Stan found it endearing.  “Why not?” She finishes almost under her breath.

She clears her throat, and forces her nerves to be under control.

“Besides, I had to see you wear this suit again,” She said, playfully tugging at the lapels on his jacket.  “So cute” She adds in a mumble.

He laughs at the compliment while she reaches her hands behind his neck again.  He can tell she’s fidgeting with her fingers, but again he decides not to comment on her obvious anxiety.

“You look beautiful,” He says, and she can’t help but duck her head down.  

Her cheeks are starting to get hot, and there’s no way she’s going to let him see her blushing that hard.

“Really beautiful,” He continues.  “I- I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress.  No that it matters! It’s just nice- you look nice,”

She laughs softly at how he stumbles over his words, but he takes in a breath to put himself at ease so he won’t ramble as much.

“I think it stems from you being a nice person,” He says.  “I mean- you’re beautiful, you are, but, uh, it’s your own self that amplifies that beauty, I think,”

Somehow (y/n) manages the courage to look up at him, her laughter fading as she watches him with a more serious expression.  His words are so sincere and heartfelt that they make her feel paralyzed, and she listens to him go on intently.

His tongue darts our to wet his lips, because suddenly they feel very dry, and (y/n’s) staring at him almost expectantly.

“You’re not complicated,” His voice goes soft, and his eyes flicker in between hers as he speaks, absolutely sure of himself.  “You’re confusing, you’re very confusing, but… not complicated”

Her own gaze travels his features, lingering on his lips, which she notes are a mere two inches away from hers.

“I-”

“You’re not,” He shakes his head before she can argue with him.  “I get that you think you are, because you’ve got all this- this shit, trust me, I get it,” He lets out a short sigh before going on.  “But you’re not complicated.  Not to me,”

Her eyes are glossy, and if he looked close enough he would’ve seen that the corner of her smile is a bit wobbly.

“Ricky Berry has barely scratched the surface of why he should be so lucky to go out with you,”

Her lips part, like she’s about to say something, but she’s at a complete loss of words.  But there’s nothing to say, nothing proper anyways.

And then she’s smiling, wide, and so, so happy.

“What?” Stan asks obliviously.

She just shakes her head at him.

“You, idiot” She whispers shakily, before leaning up on the tips of her toes, and pressing her lips against his.

It’s a sweet kiss, gentle, as it was a new experience for the both of them anyways.  Not to mention much anticipated, so now that it was actually happening, it was almost surreal.

One of her hands drifts from where they’d been latched behind his neck, to lay delicately against his cheek.  His skin is soft, and warm against the palm of her hand.

When she starts to lean back to pull away, his hands let go of her waist so that his arms can completely encircle her body, and pull her right back into him.  She smiles as his lips slant over hers passionately.

Her hands splayed over his cheeks, before she hooked her arms around his neck again, pulling him down with her when she stands back on her heels again.

When they pull apart this time, it’s slow, and her lips linger against his for a moment, before he stands back up to his full height.

They’re wearing the same nervous smiles, and her eyes dart from the floor to his own shyly.

Stan’s hold on her relaxes, and his arms release her, to place his hands on her hips again.

(y/n) lets out a short breath of a laugh, and the smile on her face is unmoving.  She couldn’t wipe it off if she wanted to.

She could, however, reach up towards his lips and drag her thumb over them, effectively rubbing away the pink stain she’d left behind.

“You- uh, you had some lipstick on your mouth” She says with a giggle.

“Did it make my eyes pop?” He asked without hesitation, and she nodded her head as she laughed again.

“Yeah, sure” She answered.

She smiled at him brightly, before stepping closer, and leaning her head against his shoulder.  She couldn’t remember the last time she was this relaxed, but it didn’t matter.  Because she’s never been more content than she is right now.

They continue their dance slowly, and in pleasant silence.  Eventually, her eyes fall shut, and she’s just standing there, holding him, barely moving back and forth to the sweet love song playing through the speakers.

And when the next song that comes on is an upbeat one, neither of them move.

It’s not until the dance is over, and people are filing out of the school that they decide they’ve had enough.  As they walk out to the parking lot, she slips her hand into his, intertwining their fingers gently.

He thinks that her hand fits perfectly into his, in a way that’s almost romantic.

“Do you think I could get a ride home?” She asks, looking over to him.  “I kinda walked here”

“You walked all the way here?” He asks, and she nods.  “In those?” He questions her again, gesturing to her ridiculous heels for walking so far in.

“Yes,” She giggles.  “How else was I supposed to get here?”

“I told you to call if you wanted a ride!” Stanley shouts, not angrily, just exasperated that she’d do something so foolish when he’d offered her help.  (y/n) laughs at him, and squeezes his hand softly.

“Well at that point I just wanted to get here as quickly as I could,” She murmurs.  “I didn’t care if I had to walk that far”

He smiled down at her, and nodded his head.

“Yeah, of course I’ll give you a ride home,” He said as they reached his car.  “But, we’re listening to Bloodwitch”

She shrugs, as though to say fine.  Not that she really minds, she’s kinda starting to like the band anyways.

The drive to their neighborhood is short, but it’s nice.  Stan sings the whole way, and (y/n) doesn’t know the words but she enjoys watching his little performance.

When he pulled up outside of her house, she hesitated for a minute.

“Look, Stan I just… I just wanted to… um…”

“Thank me for the magical night?” Stan asks with a goofy grin.

She lets out a short laugh, a shy one, and nods her head.

“I guess, yeah.  I was actually gonna say that I was… um… sorry,” She mumbles softly.

Stan’s brows furrows, and he wonders what the hell she has to apologize for.

“For not saying yes in the first place,” She continues.  “I should have.  I- I really wanted to go with you, I did,” She adds.  “I was just… um… I didn’t want to let you down, you know? I- I didn’t want you to be disappointed when you realized-”

“Realized what?” He asks, scoffing a bit as he shakes his head.  “(y/n), come on, you do know there’s nothing you could say or do that would ever disappoint me, right?”

She shrugs sheepishly, and pushes her hair behind her ear.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” He told her, turning in his seat to be facing her properly.  “It’s okay”

She gives him a small smile, and shrugs again.

“I… I really like you, Stan,” She whispers, eyes flickering in between his.  “And I’m just glad that you didn’t leave before I could get there”

He grins, and despite the blush that’s making his cheeks turn pink, he gets a little bit cocky.

“You like me?” He asks, and now she’s blushing too, as she nods her head in the smallest movement.

“Yeah, I do,” She says in a murmur.  “So… are you gonna do something about it?” She teases, leaning in closer to him, over the center console of his car.

He leans in as well, but just as she’s about to close her eyes, he stops, and she waits for him to do something, to make a move, but he doesn’t.  She crinkles her brow, eyes flickering almost madly over his features.

“What are you doing?” She asked softly.

He raised a hand to her face, fingers skimming over her cheek.  There was a sweet smile on his face as his eyes wandered over her features.

“I just wanted to take a look at you, is that such a crime?” He asks.  The comment makes her cheek flush pinker than what’s left of the lipstick on her lips.

“It is when I want you to kiss me, Barber”

She’s teasing him, but she couldn’t help but whisper, her nerves getting the best of her.

He grins, however, hand smoothing over her cheek as he draws her in, before carefully planting his lips on hers.

She melts into the kiss so completely that she leans fully over the center console of the car, her arms wrapping around Stanley’s neck so that she could keep herself balanced, and not fully collapse.

Their soft kiss escalates quickly, as she deepens it, parting her lips the smallest amount, giving him access to trace his tongue over her bottom lip.

She parted her lips further so he could continue, and her fingers dove into his hair, coiling his curls around each finger.  She wanted to smile, and it was hard to hold it back, but she managed somehow.

She only released his curls to pull the sunglasses off of his head.  In the meantime his hands traveled from her face, down her arms, before landing on her hips, and gripping her hips.

(y/n) shifted in her seat, pulling her legs up to sit on her knees, and she moved forwards a bit, prompting him to sit back in his seat, so that she could crawl over the center console, and sit down on his lap.

However, just as Stanley was leaning back, and (y/n) was maneuvering herself over towards him while trying not to let her dress ride up- too much- there was a sudden and rapid knock on the car’s window.

Confused, the pair pulled away from one another.  They shared a puzzled look, before Stan caught sight of who had knocked on the passenger window.  His lost expresion quickly morphed into one of fear, and in a shaky fashion, he pointed behind her.

(And when she turned he tugged the hem of her dress down)

“Mom!?” She shrieked, leaping away from Stanley and smoothing out her hair and skirt, hastily trying to make herself more presentable.

Not that it really mattered, seeing as they’d already been caught red-handed.

The girl’s mother didn’t look angry, but she certainly wasn’t amused.

(y/n) was quick to roll down the window, already racking her brain for any sort of excuse or distraction she could use, but her mind was blank, as she was only worried about the trouble she was about to be in.

“Wh-when did you get home?” She asked, forcing a smile towards her mother.

“About thirty minutes ago,” The woman answered.

She leaned over a bit to see into the car better, eyes landing on Stanley, who gave a nervous smile and wave.

“Nice to see you, Stanley,” Mrs (y/l/n) spoke.  “Thank you for dropping (y/n) off”

“Y-yeah, no problem,” He answered awkwardly.  ��I’ll- I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Despite her own anxiety about this whole ordeal, she grinned at him and nodded.

“Yeah,” She agreed.  “Come pick me up in the morning?”

“Will do”

(y/n) gets out of the car, following her mom up to their front door, and talking animatedly- he can only assume it’s about him, which makes his heart do a little backflip.

“Oh, wait I forgot my shoes!”

(y/n) turned to head back to the car before Stan could drive down the street to his own house.

He gives her a funny look as she leans in through the open window.

“I live like- right next door,” He chuckles.  “I could’ve brought them over at any point-”

“I know,” She says playfully, and leans in further to give him a quick kiss.  “I just wanted to say goodnight”

The smile on her face is bright and beautiful- and it reminds him that someday he has to paint her.

“You’re adorable” He says.

“Goodnight” She whispers back, before grabbing her heels from the floor, and actually going inside.

Her mom had been waiting at the front door and saw the whole interaction, but she didn’t care this time.  Her happiness outweighed the awkwardness.

They both went home and to bed with eager smiles on their faces, knowing this next chapter together was going to be an exciting one.  Of course, everything was exciting with Stanley Barber, and she wouldn’t have to worry about being left bored and alone in her room again.

[ all i need my baby and a cigarette ]

___

xoxo ~ jordie

#I am not okay with this #ianowt #ianowt fanfiction #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #stanley barber imagine #stanley barber fanfiction #stanley barber scenario #wyatt oleff

[lotusthekat]

Be Wherever (Whoever) You Are

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: G

Relationships: Lars & Rose Quartz, Lars & Steven

Characters: Lars Barriga, Rose Quartz (Pink Diamond), Martha Barriga, Dante Barriga, Steven Quartz Universe; other characters are only mentioned

Summary: “Hm… I don’t think that’s a problem,” the pink-haired lady tells him. “You can always change your name whenever you feel like it.”

The boy looks up, meeting her shining black eyes. “I can?”

Rose grins at him. “You’re always growing and changing… and I think your name is the perfect way to show that, even if no one gets it. It’s what makes you happy. Isn’t that so?”

He’s quiet for maybe a minute, thinking about what she said.

“Yeah… you’re right,” he says, finally.

“So,” Rose speaks up again. “what’s your name?”

--

At the age of four, Laramie is already pretty lost. That changes when he finds a really beautiful garden one day.

Word count: 2.000

AO3

A/N: I remember way back then when people had the idea of Lars meeting Rose before the events of the show, and although this might contradict canon, I’m all for this concept!

I do hope I wrote Rose well, and I’m still getting in the hang of writing child characters, lmao... well, enjoy anyway!

TRIGGER WARNINGS - implied character death and bullying

--

Laramie doesn’t like school.

If anything, he’s sure most kids don’t… but his reason isn’t the same as theirs. As far as he’s concerned, they’re not left alone like he is during recess. Or even during class.

Laramie is only four – almost five – and he’s got a corner of his own, near the small woods. The teachers say he’s not allowed, but honestly, they don’t seem to care when he goes there.

That’s how it is. They don’t care about him. His classmates never invite him to join them, and when he does try, they avoid him like the plague. Like he’s got some dirt on his face or something. Or maybe his face is the dirt they don’t like.

And well, that’s how he ended up here. In the woods. They’re not scary like his teachers say; they’re really small. Harmless. It doesn’t take that long for him to find another way out in the opposite direction.

What he finds, though… is a place he’s never seen before.

It’s a huge garden with pink flowers blooming. This place looks so… dreamy. Like some kind of paradise. It’s very pretty.

Laramie is careful with the flowers as he walks in. Is this what his teachers have been hiding? Or have they never thought of going in there, judging only by the woods behind him? Because that’d be dumb.

The boy looks down, the flowers staring back. Laramie looks around, wondering if this garden belongs to anyone… but it doesn’t seem like anyone’s here, and there isn’t a house nearby. So, he sits down, and for some reason that feels really good. This does feel like paradise.

This might be his new little corner. It’s so far from everything, from school, his teachers, the other kids… it’s perfect.

Laramie smiles for maybe the first time in a while (“now Laramie, you should smile more!” He remembers his teacher say, much to his internal annoyance). He doesn’t care about anything at all right now.

… well, before he hears someone coming.

“I see you like my garden.”

Laramie shrieks, turning around and finding… the tallest woman he’s seen. She’s got pink hair, huge curls falling on her shoulders. She’s wearing a long white dress with a star shape in her belly.

“S-Sorry! I didn’t know anyone owned it!” Laramie blurts out. She doesn’t seem annoyed, though.

“It’s okay,” she laughs silently, “it’s nice to have some company.”

Her voice is so… soft. You’d think his mother was sweet like candy, well, this woman manages to beat his own mom in that.

The woman sits next to him, though not that close, which he likes. Laramie just isn’t good at talking to people, least of all a woman so nice and pretty… her presence is as relaxing as the flowery ground under him.

Laramie can’t really help staring. He knows it isn’t polite, but there’s something about her… something different.

When she looks at him back, though, Laramie looks away the fastest he can. He can tell she’s smiling, anyway.

“Where are you from?” She asks.

“O-Oh, um. I’m from… here. I-I mean, Beach City.” Laramie wants to punch himself, stupid, stupid. “And you?”

The woman hums. “I’ve come from very far… far away from this place.”

“How did you get here?”

“Oh, that’s a very long story,” she responds, her smile… falling a little. She soon recovers, “What matters, though… is that I’m here now. I’m home.”

Laramie nods and doesn’t ask about it anymore.

“How did you get your flowers to grow?” He wonders instead.

“What if I told you it’s magic?”

Laramie raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

She nods with a smile. “Would you like to see it?”

“Uh, yeah?” He says like it’s obvious, but not in a rude way, he hopes. She seems to like it, anyway.

She picks up what seems like a bunch of leaves and kisses them, sparkles coming out. Right then, Laramie gasps at the pink flower in her hands.

“Woah! How’d you do that?”

“Magic,” she repeats, amused.

“Cooool…”

She gives him the flower and he admires it. It is different from other flowers, though. In the center of the petals, there’s…

“… a gem?”

The woman hums. “It’s unlike what you’ve seen before, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…”

“Did you know, I’m still inspired by all the other flowers you’ve got in your home. They’re why I’ve created this place.” She smiles both at the flower and the young boy. “You have a very beautiful home.”

Laramie holds it like it’s a treasure, worth so much that not even money can count. When he looks at the woman again, he does notice the… pink stone in her belly, too.

“What’s that?” He points at it. “Is that where your magic comes from?”

“Yes.” She touches her own belly lovingly. He looks at it, too.

“Wait…” he jumps away in alarm. “Is it moving?!”

The woman laughs. “That’s actually my son!”

“Oh.” Laramie blushes. He scoots closer again. “You’re having a kid?”

“Mm-hmm. He’ll come very soon.”

“That’s, uh, neat.”

She looks at her own belly like she loves her child so much, even before he’s really there. “I can’t wait for him to be born. For him to explore and fall in love with this world like I did…” she speaks, “and for him to make friends with someone as sweet as you.”

“W-What?” Laramie stutters. “Y-You really… mean that?”

She nods again. The woman isn’t messing with him. Every word she says is honest and comes from her heart. Besides his parents, she’s… the only person who’s ever enjoyed being around him.

“Hey, uh… what’s your name?” Laramie asks, realizing he hasn’t before.

“You can call me Rose,” she says. “And what is yours?”

His joy disappears in a second, and he looks away, so she doesn’t see his frown.

“What’s wrong?” Rose wonders, concerned.

Laramie doesn’t really like talking about it. Not even with Mom and Dad… but even if he’s just met Rose, she’s been nothing but nice with him. It’s really the least he could do.

“I don’t… really like my name,” he admits. “It doesn’t feel right.” He scoffs at himself, “Ugh, I know, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Oh, no, I understand what you mean,” she reassures him. “It doesn’t fit you, right?”

“Yeah.” He sighs, looking at the flower, its petals moving with the breeze. “I can’t really be myself, so I just hide from everyone… but I want to go out there and be me, y’know? And I’m not gonna do that with a name as lame as mine!” He exclaims.

Rose doesn’t interrupt him at all. She listens all the way through, and she knows he has more to say.

“I wish I could change it… but no one would get it,” the boy complains. “No one really gets me, anyway,” he mutters in his breath.

“Hm… I don’t think that’s a problem,” the pink-haired lady tells him. “You can always change your name whenever you feel like it.”

The boy looks up, meeting her shining black eyes. “I can?”

Rose grins at him. “You’re always growing and changing… and I think your name is the perfect way to show that, even if no one gets it. It’s what makes you happy. Isn’t that so?”

He’s quiet for maybe a minute, thinking about what she said.

“Yeah… you’re right,” he says, finally.

“So,” Rose speaks up again. “what’s your name?”

It’s a simple question, but Laramie gets what she means.

He’s never had the gut to really say the answer… but now, now might be just the time he stopped being a coward and dealt with it.

Laramie opens his mouth.

--

“… ‘Lars’?”

“Yeah, it’s my name now! You can call me Lars from now on!” The boy claims, his stance firm and tough.

Mom and Dad stare at him like he’s hit his head hard and forgot everything. Then his mother giggles affectionately.

“Oh, Laramie, you’re so creative,” she says. “What a great nickname!”

“It’s not a nickname, mom!” Lars protests. “Like, I know you guys have other names, but you want me to call you Mom and Dad. So, I want you to call me Lars!”

“Right, son. Whatever makes you happy,” his dad tells him. Lars can tell he finds it cute, too, which is the opposite of what the boy really wants.

“Now, go take a shower, sweetie,” Mom says. “You seem like you had a pretty big adventure today.”

“Yes, mom,” the boy answers with a sigh, walking to the stairs.

“And please do your homework when you’re done, Laramie!” Dad says from afar.

“It’s Lars, dad!” Lars yells back, quickly rushing to the bathroom.

Yeah, he should’ve expected that. Of course his parents wouldn’t get it… But Lars is a pretty cool name, though.

The boy takes the pink flower from his pocket and puts it on the sink, smiling at it before he gets in the shower.

--

He doesn’t know why he’s got into this.

Steven wants to take him and Sadie on a vacation, because sure. Why not?

So, they’re inside Steven’s house, which is pretty big. Inside there’s a pretty stony place, probably because of that giant statue. There’s also a platform guarding a big door in there.

“You’ve got a nice house, Steven,” Sadie compliments.

“Thank you,” Steven grins. “Now come on, the warp pad is this way! Get ready to have your jaws dropped!”

Lars sighs, staying behind while Sadie and Steven go ahead. He does look around. If you take away that warp thing and the statue, it’s a pretty standard beach house. It does seem like Steven doesn’t have a bedroom of his own, though…

Once Lars takes a glimpse behind him, he’s… stunned, to say the least.

It’s a pretty big painting on the wall, just above the front door. It’s a portrait of a beautiful pink-haired woman, whose eyes are closed. Her hair and dress flow like she’s floating in clouds, fully at peace.

Lars doesn’t know why, but something about her is…

…

“Hey, Lars, you coming?”

Steven’s loud voice takes him off guard, and Lars tries his best to disguise the feeling, “Uh, yeah, sure. Whatever.”

“Oh, that’s my mom,” Steven tells him, knowing very well he’d been staring at the painting like a creep. “She’s pretty, right?”

“Your mom?” Lars repeats.

He tries to suppress the shame from when he’d insulted Steven’s mother not too long ago. It really seemed like a tough topic to the kid, and while Lars hasn’t verbally apologized, he’s been thoughtful of not disrespecting Steven’s mom again. Lars didn’t know her, after all.

Either way, she does look… divine in that portrait. He remembers Steven saying that she saw beauty in everything, and even in the painting you can probably see that.

It’s… he doesn’t know how to word that. Lars can say, though, that the painting awes him.

“Come on, Lars! We have a vacation to get to!” Steven pulls him out of his thoughts.

The older boy sighs exasperatedly. Lars doesn’t have a choice now, does he?

For once, he follows Steven in that weird “warp pad”, really not sure how the hell they’d get anywhere. But sure, he’ll let Steven do his thing.

Lars does take one last look at the painting, before the three of them are gone in thin air.

--

After that day, he went back to visit Rose.

But she wasn’t there.

He went there the day after that, and she was still nowhere to be seen. And every other day after that.

He could only wonder where she was. Maybe she travelled? Or moved away from Beach City?

The garden stayed the same, but Lars never saw the woman again. He didn’t even have the chance to really say goodbye to her… or thank her at all.

Regardless, the flowers stayed. In a way, Lars could feel her presence there with him.

The garden became a little home of his own.

#steven universe #lars barriga #rose quartz #steven quartz universe #fanfiction #bullying mention tw #death mention tw

[secret-rendezvous1d]

what about spencer having the BIGGEST crush on you but he has never said anything abt it so he just wants to be near you all the time. one day he overhears a conversation between u and penelope talking about a guy so immediately he thinks its a guy that you’re talking to (when it’s not) and things go on from there

Oh, stop-

YN gets to a point where she can’t take it any longer; she needs to tell someone the goings on in her mind.

She’s been at the unit for less then three months and everyone had welcomed her so politely and so warmly and they invited her in like she had been there for years, sharing inside jokes with certain members of the team and holding a spot in the team that no one could fill if she wasn’t there due to illness or holiday. It was a hole that was massive to fill, shoes too big, a void that hung heavy when she wasn’t around. She had her moments with each member of the team, she had already made personal memories that she would cherish forever and she had bonds stronger to some than others... or to one other person, if she had to tell the honest truth.

Spencer.

From the very first day on the job and as soon as she stepped foot off the jet for the first time for her first case as an agent, she was plunged into an order with Spencer. He made it his priority to show her the ropes; what they did when they were travelling to a scene, what to expect when they arrived at a crime scene, what they spoke about with the victim’s families and how the dealt the grief that they felt when a case was taken to heart and he made sure to tell her that if she needed to take a break then it was more than okay to hide away and shed a few tears before coming back with a clearer mind. She remembered that so clearly and so vividly; it was their first conversation, apart from their brief exchanges of ‘hello’ and ‘good morning’ when they arrived at the unit and saw one another before the day began, and and it was a conversation that started off and helped blossom their friendship. From then, they were almost inseparable at the office and they worked best when they were put on an order together... the ‘dream team’ was the name they were given by the unit and it stuck so perfectly that it ended up becoming personal and meaningful.

YN just never expects to gain feelings from it... 

So what was she supposed to do when she was three months into a job, three months into a friendship she felt so grateful for and three months into a chapter in her life which was something so incredible to her that she feared losing it over something as minor as falling for a colleague? A friend? What did she do?

Garcia seemed to be her only option. 

A sisterly figure who always seemed to be so chipper, so bright and spritely, so sweet and kind and caring and YN felt like she could share anything and almost everything with her without worrying she was going to spread it around the office as cheap gossip that she thought should be shared. A figure she adored from the moment she met, from the moment they shared their hobbies and from the moment she offered YN a pen holder that was eccentrically designed with paper clips and pom-poms and pipe-cleaners that were glittery and brightly coloured.

With an extra coffee in the cardboard holder and a warmed croissant in a paper bag that had Garcia’s name written in scrawny handwriting, she knocks on the door and enters at the permission she was given.

“Good morning, sugar plum. How may I assist you today?”

YN grins as she leans against the table beside Penelope and passes a coffee to her, which she gratefully accepts and takes a rather heart sip and lets the warm liquid trickle down her throat, a groan of pleasure filling the room.

“You know me all too well,” she smiles and squeezes YN’s hand, “what’s the matter though? You don’t normally bring me coffee or a croissant so what can I help you with?”

“I need your help, Garcia.”

“With what? Come on, fill me in.”

YN shyly giggles and looks at her feet, the support of the table holding her securely enough that she could lean on the heels of her shoes, her thumbs picking at her nails nervously. The tingling in her stomach made her feel sick; was she really about to admit a secret she had been dreading to say aloud? For some reason, she felt like if she said it aloud then everything became real and having it become real was something she hadn’t necessarily thought about.

“So, I, uh-” she coughs nervously and takes a glance at Garcia, “I think I’ve developed some feelings for someone I just met and, and I guess I’m little nervous about it because this is the first guy I’ve actually really liked but there are things holding us back and I think it’s against the rules to even go on a date with him.”

“Against the rules? Have you never read Romeo and Juliet?”

“It’s not so easy,” YN sighs, “I don’t think he likes me anyway so it’s not really a Romeo and Juliet love story. I’m pining after someone who doesn’t like me back in that way.”

Garcia reaches over and squeezes her hand.

What neither of them notice is the movement of Spencer appearing in the doorway of the office, feeling a little intrusive as he hid himself around the corner yet still at a distance where he could hear when the conversation came to its end. A conversation he didn’t really want to listen to because it tore him to bits on the inside. His heart almost torn to shreds because the girl he liked... the only girl he had ever felt close to, who he felt a connection with, only saw him as a friend and a friend only when he saw her as something so much more than that. A reason to wake up and get to work early, a reason to find the best result in a case, a reason to smile and laugh and joke because life was for living and he felt like he hadn’t done much of that in his solo reign. 

“Garcia, he’s driving me mad. Like, the good kind of mad. It’s the kind of mad where I’m thinking about him constantly, I’m imagining what it’s like to be with him in certain situations like when I’m cooking breakfast or making dinner or watching some television,” she sighs and even though her shoulders dip down, she feels a huge weight lifted from her shoulders, “heck, I even think about them when I’m you know what-ing, Garcia. That’s not healthy, is it?”

“I’m no profiler, sweet-cheeks, but I think you’re in a little too deep for this guy. He’s lucky. You should go for it with him, don’t hold back on what you feel on the inside,” she softly pokes a fingertip into YN’s chest, “your heart tells you a lot and if thats how you’re feeling towards him then ask him out. Be that big and bold girl I know you are.”

“You think so?”

Spencer desperately wants to hear Garcia deny everything that she had said before; don’t encourage her to date some idiot who didn’t know about a neat thing called respect when she could have someone who treated her perfectly, he thought to himself, someone who was standing under her nose and praying she saw him like he saw her.

“Absolutely, YN. And you have to bring him to meet me and the rest of the team as soon as possible, okay? I want to know all about the guy who stole your heart and turned you all soft and happy,” Garcia smiles.

If only she knew that she’d already met him, YN thought. xx

#spencer reid chats #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagines #matthew gray gubler imagines #also hello 2am!! this is a new time for me

[nightmarefueler]

Okay, now that I've had ample time to gather my EXTENSIVE thoughts on Bug Fables, here they are. I'm going to go from what I liked the most down to neat little things, then minor nitpicks to more glaring flaws. Yes, I will be going over some spoilers, so click through at your own risk.

The first and most obvious praise I can give it, THE SOUNDTRACK KICKED ASS. Sure, not every song hit, and a couple of them had bits that didn't go on long enough (specifically the ending measures or so of Sand Castle and the level up fanfare), but other than that, I was being surprised left and right by the techniques each song used! Dynamic transitions between two versions, mismatched tempos for each instrument, playing off-key, a battle theme in power waltz time, I never knew what to expect! My favorite has to be the Forsaken Lands; the off-key notes being as subtle as they are drive home how dense and lonely this place is. It helped to make this my favorite area in the game, with Vi flying over this vast expanse of nothing to it after the Wasp King stole the artifacts was truly special.

Also, the chapter 1 boss theme is swing jazz. Your argument is invalid.

Speaking of Vi, she and the rest of Team Snakemouth worked wonderfully as main protagonists, both as individuals and as a group with genuine chemistry. Their banter was so good, in fact, it even helped to enhance the worldbuilding (which I was already invested in on its own) and vice versa! I never really bothered to use the Tattle command in Paper Mario aside from filling up the bestiary, but here, I was pressing that button CONSTANTLY in the field wondering what the team would say next, and it was entertaining almost every time. Any game that can pull off something like that gets serious respect from me.

The battle system is what The Thousand Year Door should have been the entire time. Not only did having only three party members make the experience more focused, there was just so much you could so with them! Team relay, free swapping, each character having their own unique properties? Vi hitting airborne enemies, Leif's ice magic digging up underground enemies, and Kabbu's defense piercing in exchange for only letting him attack the first grounded enemy in line? SCREW YOU, STICKER STAR, THIS IS HOW YOU DO THAT NO FREE TARGETING THING RIGHT.

Not only that, but getting new abilities through level up like a traditional RPG made me realize just how important that is when compared to Paper Mario. Getting new party members and upgrading them a couple times each over the course of the game is fine and everything, but I think I prefer this. Your strategy constantly evolves with the characters you're stuck with, and it makes even regular enemy encounters far more than just mashing the attack button to win, to say nothing of how the bosses test your knowledge of the system. If all of that's somehow not enough for you, then how about dual and triple techs a la Chrono Trigger??? Guys. You really shouldn't have. You already won.

Pacing was pretty spot-on the whole way through. The balance between story and side quests was in near-perfect equilibrium, and none of them ever dragged for too long. The story progression saw similar lengths for each of the chapters, and while similar in structure, had enough unique about them that it made me curious what would happen next.

The simple colors of the 3D environments are vibrant, clean, and pleasing to the eye, and the same can be said about the 2D characters. Their designs for the most part are pretty varied, and too many I can count where I took one look at them and went "I immediately love you now". Vi, Zasp, Samira, and the three chefs are all at the top of that list.

And now for the ugly part!

I encountered a glitch when examining the goddess statue from the Golden Settlement inn where the dialogue sounds stopped playing until the dialogue tree was finished. Thankfully, I could still tell who was saying what because of their distinct mannerisms, but that seems pretty hard to miss in play testing.

More than a few grammatical errors, especially missing commas between phrases. There were also a couple spelling mistakes, particularly "dawdle" as "dwadle" and "to" as "too". I might not be the best at that myself, but that's not gonna stop me from noticing these things. Be glad you're not a novel, or else this would be WAY worse.

My least favorite part of the game had to be the bandits' hideout. It's a stealth segment (because of course), but not only that, the stealth itself barely lasted 10 minutes, if even that. So I need to ask... What was even the point of taking my stuff away when I was just going to get it back almost immediately?

I do also need to know why Maki didn't appear again after the tutorial until chapter 5. He looked like he would be a pretty cool supporting character, so why not find more things for him to do?

Speaking of which, I was about to write off the Wasp King as a bad villain with boring motivations, but after learning more about him, I kind of understand what they were trying to accomplish. He's not even a wasp, he's a mimic fly whose unremarkability permeates every facet of him, even after becoming the Wasp King, which is reflected in his plain robes. I can respect that and the subversion of the whole "the benevolent ruler was evil all along" trope, and it was clever how anyone moderately versed in social insects would ask "Why isn't he a queen?" before the truth is revealed.

However, I think he should have had more presence in the story so it didn't look like he came out of nowhere. Have him do things off-screen that might look like something only Elizant could have done, but observant people would be questioning that logic. Make it more and more obvious there's something wrong with the picture, maybe make it ambiguous who the real bad guy is. Make him try as hard as he can to become someone who stands out, but fail at it while still being threatening. Just, something to build the Wasp King himself up properly. They did so well with Leif in that regard, so why not with this?

Overall, though, I had a good time with Bug Fables. However unlikely it may be, I do hope a sequel gets made at some point in the future and touches more upon the likes of the plant gods and the Dead Landers.

#bug fables

[douchebagbrainwaves]

MAKER'S SCHEDULE, 631, BRIEFLY

I'm a writer, and writers always get disproportionate attention. How did they stand it? Their main expenses are setting up the company, which costs a couple thousand Altair owners, but without this software they were programming in machine language. Those ideas are so rare that you can't find some way to reach me, how are you going to create a successful company? For a startup, managing them is one of the first 10 employees you'll have almost as much.1 Families are entitled to their own traditions, and who the competitors are and why this company is going to beat them.2 In the late 90s my professor friends used to complain that they couldn't get grad students, because all the undergrads were going to let hosts rent out space on their floors during conventions. Part of the reason I can't believe it will be more like being able to play the two firms off each other as well as talent, so this answer works out to be important, because a we invest such small amounts, and b we think it's better if startups operate out of their own premises, however crappy, than the offices of their investors.

If you're a freelancer or a small company doesn't ensure freedom.3 What makes a good startup idea, it's sort of like having a guilty conscience about something.4 There's an idea that has turned out to be a startup. For a lot of work.5 Which is exactly how I'd describe the way lions seem in the wild seem about ten times more alive. You probably can't overcome anything so pervasive as the model of work is a job. Don't sit on their boards. What really bothers parents about their teenage kids having sex are complex.6 It's not so much as that they never pander: they never say or do something because that's what the audience wants. So if you're going to optimize a number, the one to choose is your growth rate to compensate. In social settings, I found that I got over 100 other responses listing the surprises they encountered. If you don't understand YC.

At the time any random autobiographical novel by a recent college grad could count on more respectful treatment from the literary establishment. The angel now owns 200/1200 shares, or a job. The kind of question on the application form that asks what you're going to clear these lies out of your head, you're going to clear these lies out of your head, you're going to do, at least, nothing good.7 I often recommend that founders act like consultants—that they wanted to.8 In a startup, you don't even know that.9 If these guys had thought they were starting companies, they might have been.10 Viaweb entirely with angel money; it never occurred to us that investors were too conservative here—that they do what they'd do if they'd been in Nebraska, like Evan Williams was at their age? The saddest windows close when other people die.

And when you propagate that constraint, the result is that each species thrives in groups of a certain group, that seems nearly impossible to shake. Someone who's figured that out will automatically focus more on the idea. The only explanation is: by definition. It's not just a figure of speech to say that the outcome is zero. The artists who benefited most from this were the ones who had preserved a child's confidence, like Klee and Calder. Once you have all the college students, you get rich is that there are many degrees of it. It could be replaced on any of these axes it has already started to be on most. When you're a little kid and you're asked to do something differently.

But not all waste is bad. Later I learned it hadn't been so neat, and the three founders each get 25%. Along with such outright lies, there must have been told a lot of economic history, and I understand the startup world is evolving away from their current model.11 If you seem really good we'll accept you anyway. Even in the rare cases where a clever hack makes your fortune, you probably have an idea.12 At least, that's how we'd describe it in present-day languages, if they'd had them. The way you get taught programming in college would be like teaching writing as grammar, without mentioning that its purpose is to make me feel better. After two years, the un-rapacious that you only extract half as much from users as you could. If you have something that no competitor does and that some subset of users urgently need, you have to seem like you understand technology.13 On that scale, every negotiation is unique.14 I was cynical about VCs, but the way he composed them into molecules was near faultless.15 But unfortunately when you graduate, as long as you want.16

Notes

Thanks to Daniel Sobral for pointing this out. Make it clear when you ad lib you end up reproducing some of the things they've tried on the LL1 mailing list. What you learn in college or what grades you got in them, initially, to sell earlier than you expect. But while this is also a name.

In fact most of them. But try this experiment is that if you conflate them you're aiming at. The worst explosions happen when unpromising-seeming startups do badly.

Y Combinator certainly never asks what classes you took in college. This approach has not worked well, but this would work better, and that modern corporate executives were, we try to accept a particular number.

Aristotle the core: the editor in Lisp, they may try to accept that investors are induced by the surface similarities. Com of their assets; and with that additional constraint, you can't help associating it with such a statement would merely be eccentric.

Most word problems in school math textbooks are bad: Webpig, Webdog, Webfat, Webzit, Webfug. Without the prospect of publication, the assembly line, the closest anyone has come is Secretary of Labor Statistics, about 28%.

I think the usual way to fight. The next time you raise as you can see the apples, they made much of it, and no one who's had the discipline to pull it off. Successful founders are driven by people trying to decide whether to go to college, they would implement it and make a lot of investors caring either.

P nonspam are both genuinely formidable, and the exercise of stock options than any preceding president, he was otherwise unoccupied, to get into the heads of would-be startup founders who had been a good idea to make more money. The best thing for startups is very long: it might take an hour over the Internet, like hedge funds, are available only to buy corporate bonds to market faster; the Reagan administration's comparatively sympathetic attitude toward takeovers; the crowds of shoppers drifting through this huge mall reminded George Romero of zombies. That it might take an hour over the Internet. Yes, I had zero effect on the relative weights?

The VCs recapitalize the company, and yet managed to screw up twice at the data, it's probably good grazing. I should add that we're not. They did turn out to be a win to include things in shows that people start to pull ahead in the field.

Galbraith was clearly puzzled that corporate executives would work so hard to mentally deal with the founders gained from running through their initial attitude. Sparse Binary Polynomial Hash Message Filtering and The Old Way. One thing that drives most people emerge from the moment it's created indeed, from hour to hour that the worm might have done all they could be overcome by changing the shape of the bizarre consequences of this: You may not be far less demand for them.

Indiana University Bloomington 1868-1970.

Trevor Blackwell points out that taking time to come up with an associate cold-emailing a startup could grow big in revenues without including the order of 10,000, because investors already owned more than their competitors, who may have realized this, but simply because he was skeptical about Viaweb too. See Greenspun's Tenth Rule. We just store the data, it's software that doesn't seem to want them; you have significant expenses other than salaries that you decide the price, and for filters it's textual.

P 500 CEOs in the sophomore year. It was only because he had more fun than he'd had in school, and philosophy the imprecise half. The philistines have now missed the video boat entirely.

As we walked out we ran into Yuri Sagalov. Emmett Shear writes: I'd argue the long tail for sports may be common in, you'll have to replace you. It took a painfully long time.

The reason Y Combinator.

This is an instance of a safe will be coordinating efforts among partners. In practice it just feels like a loser they're done, she doesn't like getting attention in the definition of property.

The thing to do sales yourself initially. 5%. At first I didn't care about GPAs.

Thanks to Paul Buchheit, Gary Sabot, Trevor Blackwell, Tiffani Ashley Bell, and Jeff Arnold for sharing their expertise on this topic.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #job #Thanks #mailing #assets #talent #field #way #effect #filters #expenses #sort #explosions #Yuri #lot #school #guys #premises #Blackwell #word #languages #language #feels #competitors #Internet

[floatinginwords]

Saved by the Devil (10/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: You spend a little time with Tommy (Again sorry about my summaries i suck at them)

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Fem!reader (not romantic..but we are getting there slowly but surely) 

A/n: Hi everyone. this chapter maybe a bit shorter than what i usually write and i didnt proof read this one so apologizes for that. This semester is just annoying. Too much going on for stupid online courses. Anyway this chapter is bit more in Tommys p.o.v, i mean we get a bit of readers in the end but yea...if you dont like that tell me or if you do tell me. If you guys have any questions or anything like that just tell me. And of course and always have a lovely day. 

Thomas Shelby leads you to a little apartment near his office. He knew he could have driven you to the train station, given you some fare as you went on your way. He could have driven you to London. Hell, he could have paid someone to do it. But there was part of him deep down within that didn’t want you to go yet. It was a surprise for him to see you in the office. He hadn’t been avoiding you, things were just getting hectic around with the business. And with the constant pressure from the inspector and the sudden charges on Arthur and Michael, his focus needed to be sharp. And then he exits his office and see you standing with Lizzie, Polly, and Esme. For the first since he’s known you, he actually detected a little bit of nervousness from you.

At first he didn’t understand why you wanted to help in his little plan. It didn’t make sense for you to put yourself in harms way with all the shit you’ve already been through. He notices that when he asks about your father the way you tense up. He doesn’t know why he asks, its something he rather not talk about either. But it was a question that bothered him for awhile. He could of asked your father, in that last meeting when…

Thomas shakes his head from his thoughts turning to look at you who seemed just as dazed and muddled in their own thoughts. You were definitely an enigma to him. He doesn’t even remember what he said to make you laugh. All he remembers is that he did.

To him you laugh was like a canary singing a song of hope in the middle of brutal winter. Thomas doesn’t think he ever heard a sound so sweet. He feels his lips stretch into a smile, something that felt foreign on his face. It was definitely something he hadn’t done in awhile. So as he walks you to his place, keeping a gentle hand on your elbow to keep your balance. He couldn’t help but to think to himself ‘how can I hear that sound again?’

So he leads you in the apartment, setting you down on his couch. You flop down like a child and he cant help but be amused at your drunken state.

 “Mr.Shelby, I believe I drank too much.” You hiccup.

 “Thats alright,” Thomas says, “Listen you can rest here and we’ll talk more in the morning.” He doesn’t really want to end the night yet but he can see the fatigue in your face.

 You shake you head at him, “We can talk now. I don’t sleep very much.” You don’t look into his eyes as you speak which he finds odd. A detail he’s always noticed was the eye contact you gave. He couldn’t tell what you were searching but he appreciated it, not many people could look him in the eye.

Hes suddenly reminded of a conversation you had awhile ago. When you had bluntly asked him your father was dead. He had expected you to say nothing for that entire ride. But you didn’t. He remembers your question.

“Do your nightmares ever stay with you longer that you would like?”

He had answered honestly. The nightmares often lingered around him for days sometimes weeks. It wasn’t often he got a good nights sleep. He could see the sleep in your eyes wanting to take over. You were fighting it though quite easily like you’ve done it before.  He didn’t want to be overstepping any line and he also didn’t want to seem creepy remembering a conversation, a small detail from weeks ago. He wasn’t sure at all how you’d react to it. So he decided to say nothing, wait for you to take the lead. Which you did, mostly because your mouth seemed to have a mind of its own sometimes.

 “You get nightmares too Mr. Shelby, I remember you agreeing with me this one time…”You trail off slurring your word, “Sometimes they can be so much…”

 “What do you dream about?” He asks.

 You don’t answer. Thomas doesn’t pressure you for answer, you look to be searching for one. Your mouth open and eyes wandering around the room. But you give no answer.

 Thomas decides to speak, lighting a cigarette as he does, “I dream about France sometimes.” The answer surprise him. Hes not one for opening up.

 You don’t say anything so he continues, “I can hear the shovels at night. That’s when their the loudest.” He blows the smoke as he talks.

“I sometimes dream of the hospital…they didn’t exactly treat me great there. Sometimes its my father…” You say the word ‘father’ quietly as if it was like a little curse falling off your lips.

 Thomas wants to ask you what that man had done to you, why it seemed you feared and hated him so much. He wished he asked you in that first meeting with you. When he promised to kill him for you…..he knew then it was something you wanted, he didn’t know how badly…maybe if he had known he would have done things differently.

 “Sometime he’s not even doing anything…he’s just watching me. And smiling,” You say pulling him away from his thoughts, “It takes a moment for me to realize he’s not there. He’s not watching.” You stop talking suddenly, certainly not meaning to get that honest.

 Thomas clenches his jaw, “well it’s a good thing hes not around anymore.”

 You look up at him for the first time the whole night, meeting his eyes. Your stare sends shivers up his arms.

 “Right…” you trail off, looking uncertain. “Mr Shelby I-“

 “You know,” He cuts you off wanting to change the subject, “I don’t think this is very business like.”

“Excuse me.” You blink confused with the sudden statement.

 “I mean you won’t’ call me by my name because this is business but here you are at my place, drunk, talking to me about stuff that not business.”

 You scoff at him. “Are you really that bothered by it?” you tease

 “I just think in settings like this, you can let go a little bit.”

 “I think you should get used to disappointment, Mr.Shelby.” You emphasize his name a bit.

 “You must admit that we aren’t doing anything related to business.”

 “Then what would you call it?” You challenge.

 And he didn’t know what to call it. But he just felt more. Maybe it was friendship. He definitely enjoyed your company. He wasn’t afraid to admit that to himself. Hes reminded of the feelings of when you got hurt at the horse auction and went missing those three days. He didn’t want to admit that there was apart of him that cared for you. That part has been locked away ever since Grace. He had trusted her and loved her. And then she betrayed him. And there was just a part of him that just didn’t want to go through that again.

“Are you okay,” you ask, “you went quiet for a minute.”

 “ Yea just thinking.”

 “Do you wanna keep talking?” you say shyly.

 And he couldn’t say no to you. That night the two of you spend you time just talking. It’s the first time Tommy’s ever done something like that. Take a woman home and not bed her. He wasn’t thinking about doing that with you but it had dawned on him later that small fact. You listened to his stories about his family. You were an only child and had no stories nearly s fun as his. You tell him you wish you grew up in a big family. You list all the places you wanted to travel to and he watches you ramble about them. The two of you laugh and smile. Both feeling lighter in each others presence. He can see you loosening up a bit and he just wonders what your like when you aren’t fully on guard. He can fee himself doing the same. He doesn’t mind but he knews that hes going to berate himself later. Hours pass and You both fall asleep on the couch, neither of you remembering what the other was talking about as you do. It was the first time in a long time that either of you had fallen asleep peacefully.

 You wake up first, feeling an awful pudding within your head. Why was it that you never could know your limit. You attempt to get up when you sense an arm around you. A unwelcomed flutter of butterflies erupt in your stomach as you realize who the arm belongs to.

 ‘Fuck’ you think to yourself trying to untangle yourself from his arm, trying to understand how you even got roped up in him.

 Successfully you manage to unwrap your self from him, the warmth of his body leaving your side making you feel cold. You’re tempted to roll back but think against it. You stretch up from the couch and walk around the apartment quietly. It wasn’t very big. The living room connected to the kitchen. And his room connected to the bathroom. You wonder around trying to wake your creaky bones. You see a bundle of letters on his, dresser with very neat and lovely writing, addressed to him. You see a pipe beside his bed and pick it up wondering if he used this on himself last night. You walk backwards trying to take it all in. He didnt have much. A few pictures of him and his siblings. And that woman from before. The older one who gave you chills with her stare. Pol-polly you think her name was. You continue walking backward before bumping into his dresser. The letters falling down. You bend down picking them up not without looking more closely at the beautiful stationary. You see at corner of the envelope

From Grace

 For a minute  you’re really disappointed. And you don’t know why. And then the pieces fall together. When you remember Mr.shelbys horses name, “Graces secret,” And when Ada told you ‘he had someone last year.” You don’t know why you feel uncomfortable all of a sudden. You don’t feel right hanging around his apartment. Unless their not together? Wait why do you even care? You neatly stack the envelopes back to their place and calmly walk away, needing to distract yourself from the sudden intrusion of thoughts you would very much like to get rid of.

 You pass by Thomas sleeping body. You pause to look at him. Admiring the way his feature seem to soften up as he slept. You almost compare him to an angel. A knock on the door alerts you as you sit up straight. Thomas shoots up in a panic. He looks at you confused before getting up.

 “How long have you been up?” he asks you, heading for the door.

 You don’t answer. Watching him go to get the door. A small boy is behind the door, you cant hear what either of them say as they talk in hushed voices.

 “(y/n),,” he calls you over, “my brother finn here is gonna lead you to the garrison I have a meeting I have to attend to.” He says not leaving you any room to argue to deny his request as he grabs his jacket and locks the door before the two of you.

 “Ill be back soon, try not to run into trouble.” He says.

 You nod and go your separate ways, following the young boy through the streets of Birmingham.

Read pt.11

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#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #Fanfic #saved by the devil fic