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andreafmn · 3 years

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Collision - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,434

Characters: Female Reader Uley Character, Sam Uley, Allison Uley, Charlie Swan, Bella Swan, Seth Clearwater, Billy Black, Jacob Black, Emily Young, Paul Lahote, Harry and Sue Clearwater, Leah Clearwater

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life at it’s first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Twilight, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Stephanie Meyer and Summit Entertainment. The only thing I own is Uley Reader insert, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 1/?

A/N: There’s no Cullen’s in the first chapter, we’ll see them soon though. Also, Esme is in the story but her and Carlisle are not together romantically. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next->

Chapter 1

Going back home felt bizarre for (Y/N). It had been 4 years since she had moved away from the La Push Reservation on a scholarship to a prep boarding school in Seattle. Although students were expected to go back home during summer break, she spent her time in summer taking college classes or attending internships in the area, so going back didn’t fit into her plans.

But she had just graduated from high school and decided that taking a gap year could not hurt. Seeing her family wouldn’t be that bad either.

(Y/N) Uley had not reunited physically with Sam and Allison Uley since she left for school, only calling occasionally but always being to busy for anything else. The mother and son duo had grown accustomed to the short phone calls and vague emails they would receive from their studious family member. The Uley siblings used to be a very close pair, being only a year apart helped their bond. But since (Y/N) had invested all her energy into her high school career, their relationship rapidly dissipated; replaced by untold secrets and life-changing details.

The Uley girl had no idea what was in store when she went back home. She had left when she was 14 and was coming back an 18-year-old with a high school diploma and a bachelor’s degree. (Y/N) had always been an over achiever and applying to the school she had and taking dual enrollment was no surprise to her mother and brother.

The bus ride from Seattle to La Push lasted almost eight hours, so (Y/N) equipped herself with two books, plenty of snacks, and a fully charged iPod to handle the ride. She had gotten the earliest ride available always enjoying the intriguing mystery that 3 am travels brought. Her brown eyes surveyed the curious characters that voyaged alongside her a young woman sat with a sleeping baby in her arms, the dark circles under her eyes signaled the baby was still a newborn getting adapted to a sleep schedule; there was a middle-aged man, his eyes attached to a computer and a briefcase tight to his side; there were two teenagers, backpacks at their feet and shared headphones in between them. They were wearing light blue polo shirt and her school insignia embroidered on the left side of their shirt. She had seen them in passing, two freshmen still energetic and excited for their school life. She looked at them and smiled, remembering being in their shoes four years ago.

Four hours in, (Y/N) had finished one book, and the bus made its first stop in Port Angeles, the place where everyone that traveled with her got off. It wasn’t surprising to see from the top of her book as everyone got off, she didn’t recognize any of them from the reservation so it would have been surprising if any of them had stayed in the bus. For the next four hours, (Y/N) continued to read her second book surrounded by a comforting silence. The sun had risen about an hour ago and a nice warmth was streaming from the bus window and (Y/N) felt herself drift in bliss.

Her eyes fluttered open once again when she felt the bus finally rolling to a stop. She blinked a few times as she adjusted her vision to the bright midday sun and her brain restarted normal functions. The brunette gathered the bag with her travel companions and got up from the chair she had been glued to for eight hours.

“Have a good day,” the driver chimed as (Y/N) was walking down the bus.

“You too, drive safe!” The girl smiled and got her two suitcases out of the side of the bus.

(Y/N) got startled as she felt two arms wrap around her midriff and quickly swung her elbow back.

“Woah, woah, careful with those arms, (Y/N). It’s just me,” the girl turned around, a gleaming grin adorning her face.

“Sam!” She jumped onto the open arms of her older brother, seeing the years that had passed on his tired face.

“Look at you, darling. All grown up,” Allison Uley smiled, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“Mom, I’ve missed you.” (Y/N) hugged her mother tightly, noticing the difference in heights of her and her mother. Another thing she noticed was the strain between her mother and her brother. Before she left, they all had a very close relationship but now it felt like so many things had interlaced into their bond. “Let’s go home yeah?”

“I’m, actually I gotta go to my house,” Sam scratched the back of his neck.

“What house?” (Y/N) chuckled.

“I moved out, but I’ll come over for your welcome dinner.”

“Sam, she just came back. Don’t you wanna spend time with your sister?” Allison begged, wanting to have both of her children under the same roof again.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, mom. Leave it.” Sam sighed. “I’ll see you at dinner, (Y/N).”

He kissed the top of his sister’s head and left. He wanted to tell them the whole truth, but he knew he couldn’t. Knowing that information would put them in a level of danger that he didn’t want them to be aware of.

(Y/N) stared at the retreating figure of his brother as he ran down the street, leaving her and their mother.

“What’s up with him?”

“Oh darling, if only I knew.” Allison sighed grabbing one of the suitcases her daughter had brought. “Let’s just head to the house so you can rest.”

“Yeah, let’s.” (Y/N) gave Allison a comforting smile and wheeled the second suitcase towards the truck.

The drive home was as short as she remembered, and the house hadn’t changed a bit. She walked up the steps to the porch and opened the old wooden door; it still made the same creaking sound. The house still smelled of seawater and pine, an odd mix but a comforting scent. (Y/N) regretted all the summers she missed here and all the days she spent away from her family.

She made her way up the stairs and entered the first door to the right. She ran her fingers through the stickers she had pasted on there when she was 13: a wolf, a rainbow, a heart, and a picture of her family. Her name still carved at the highest point of the door and she smiled at the memory of that. She sat atop Sam’s shoulder when she was just 12 years old, a trembling hand holding a pick as she carved as best as she could the name “(Y/N)”.

The doorknob as it was turned let out a squeaky groan and the door needed an extra push to open. The room had not changed at all. The walls were still painted a light green, the light switch still had the pink princess cover, the bedding had the little purple butterflies embroidered on them, and the pillows were all pink and purple. In a corner rested the five boxes (Y/N) had sent to the house from her dorm room.

“It hasn’t changed a bit,” (Y/N) commented as she felt her mother’s presence behind her.

“I didn’t want to change it until you came back,” Allison smiled. “But I’m sure you’d like to give this place a bit of a makeover.”

“Definitely,” she laughed. “I think I’ll go to Port Angeles this weekend, doing some shopping can’t hurt.”

“That’s true.” Allison side hugged her daughter as she laughed. She headed towards the door but stopped when she was called upon by her daughter.

“Hey, mom?”

“Yes, darling?”

“By any chance, do you know where Sam’s living?” Allison’s body stiffened but shared the information with her daughter. Maybe she could figure out why he’d just disappeared.

(Y/N) was surprised to hear he was living with a girl she barely knew. She knew of Emily Young through Leah Clearwater, but not much after that. Last thing she had heard Leah and Sam had been dating. She certainly had missed some very important pivotal points in her brother’s life.

The house wasn’t far, so she decided to walk there. Upon arrival she could feel the warm and inviting aura that the quaint house emanated. The blue door called to her as she knocked on it. It finally opened and revealed her brother.

“(Y/N), what’re you doing here?”

“I’m here to see my big brother. Is that such a crime?” She laughed.

“No, of course. Come in,” he smiled begrudgingly. “I don’t have much time so we gotta make this quick.”

“Wow, feeling the love there,” she chuckled passing through the doorframe.

“There’s just some things that I have to do before dinner tonight.”

“It’s okay, I get it. I just wanted to ask if you could help me on the weekend with my room. I’m bringing it four years into the present, gotta make sure it looks like an 18-year-old sleeps there.”

“Yeah, I’ll come over Sunday afternoon and help you then. Anything else you need?”

“Well, not exactly, but it wouldn’t help to catch up. You know make up for four years of chit chat conversations and get me up to date with at the happenings in your life.”

“There’s not much to say other than I moved out and I’m engaged.” He said nonchalantly.

“Excuse me?! You’re engaged and failed to mention that to me?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, (Y/N).”

“Yes, it is, Sam! You’re getting married and this is the first I’m ever hearing of this or the fact that you moved out or the fact that you’re engaged to your ex-girlfriend’s cousin. I think it is a big deal.”

“Okay, yeah. Kind of a long story on that one.”

“Enough time to tell it to me?” Sam hesitated. He could hear Emily’s truck approaching and two male voices coming back from patrol. He needed to get (Y/N) out of the house before they got here.

“Maybe another time. I’ll call you on Sunday, yeah?” Sam asked as he nudged his sister out of his house.

“I guess.” (Y/N) mumbled as she was pushed out the front door. “Bye.”

“See ya.” Sam kissed the side of her head and closed the door.

(Y/N) left the house with more questions about her brother that she had begun with but didn’t want to press on. There was no use if he wasn’t going to talk, so she walked back home.

Her mother had gone out, possibly grocery shopping for tonight’s dinner, giving (Y/N) time to catch up on some much-needed sleep. She walked up the stairs and into her room, plopping down on the bed not caring how she landed. All she wanted was to close her eyes and rest.

By six in the afternoon her eyes fluttered open once again. She could smell the dinner her mother had been cooking. The room had darkened as the sun was going down and thankfully her mother had turned on a lamp for (Y/N) to have some vision. The girl got up from bed and grabbed some clothes from her suitcase to take a quick shower before dinner. She stripped all her clothes off and let the water wash away all the hours of the day. As soon as the water started turning cold, she shut it off and got out.

For a second, (Y/N) stopped and stared at herself in the mirror above the sink. She barely recognized the girl staring back. The bags under her eyes were deeper than the last time she had seen herself in this specific mirror, her cheekbones were more defined than before, her skin paler than usual since she hadn’t really seen the sun in a while.

It didn’t take her long to change into some new clothes and head downstairs, where she saw her mother on the phone. Disappointment evident in her eyes.

“Sam, it’s your sister… please… ok, fine. Just don’t flake on her on Sunday,” Allison sighed, turning off her phone and slamming it on the counter.

“Everything okay, mom?”

“Oh, yeah, darling. Your brother won’t be able to join us, but Billy and Jacob, and the Clearwaters are on their way, and I also invited Charlie and Bella Swan. I hope you don’t mind that they join in.”

“No, I don’t mind. What about Paul?”

“You know I’ve never liked that boy, honey.” (Y/N) stared at her mother. Refusing to continue the conversation until Allison answered the question. “I did invite him, but he couldn’t come.”

“I love seeing you make an effort,” (Y/N) laughed and kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’ll set the table.”

“Thank you, darling.”

(Y/N) grabbed the 10 plates needed for the night and the respective cutlery. She still remembered how her mother liked the table arranged and set it as such. She set the vase filled with fresh flowers in the middle of the table, leaving space on the sides for the dinner platters. The arrival of the guests was soon after. (Y/N) had grown alongside Jacob and Leah, and on the summers, she would spend her times with the Swan girl. Once Seth was born, he became very close with the Uley girl.

“My oh my, (Y/N), how you’ve grown.” Billy Black grabbed Uley’s hand and smiled up at her, with the warmness that summer brought.

“Indeed, I have, and you haven’t aged a day in four years. What’s your secret?”

“It’s in the genes,” he laughed alongside the young girl. She’d always been a charmer, he thought “You remember my boy, Jacob, right?”

“How could I ever forget? Hey, Jake!”

“How you’ve been, (Y/N)?” Jacob approached his friend and wrapped her in a hug. “Been an awful long time.”

“Four years, that’s not much,” she smiled. “Come in.”

The father and son duo entered the house, and next came the Clearwaters. Harry, Sue, and Seth. No Leah. They had always been close to the Uleys, a bit of divide coming after the rupture between the eldest offspring of each family.

“Oh, wow, where has the time gone?” Sue commented, greeting the girl with a tight hug.

“4 years really do go by quick, don’t they?”

“They sure do, Harry.” (Y/N) smiled, motioning the couple in.

Finally, Seth walked in and engulfed (Y/N) in a tight hug. The girl was 5 years his elder, but he considered her one of his best friends. Seth and Paul were the only two people (Y/N) kept in close contact other than her family. For some time, Paul and (Y/N) had drifted apart but Seth always sent his monthly excited letters, updating her on what he had been up to.

“I missed you, (Y/N)!” Little Seth spoke into a bundle of brunette hair.

“I missed you too, Seth.” She smiled as he walked past her, joining his parents.

The last to enter were Sheriff Swan and Bella. The cop smiled at the girl and gave her a quick hug, commenting on how much she had grown, a low chuckle leaving his throat. Bella entered with hunched shoulders, possibly not wanting to be there but she still smiled at her old friend. Vague memories filled the girls’ heads of summer play dates and days at the beach.

“It’s been quite some time, huh?” Bella muttered.

“It sure has. It’s great to see you again,” (Y/N) smiled. “How have you liked Forks now that you’re back full time. Still hating cold weather?”

“Yeah,” the pale girl chuckled. “But it has its better days.”

The girls joined in a quick giggled before joining the rest of the group at the dinner table. Allison had already set the table and had said her hellos to the group.

The three males had engaged in sports conversations and the teens were all huddled in the kitchen munching on cheese and crackers and engaging in small chit chat.

“So, (Y/N), 18 and already a degree, how does that feel?” Jacob asked, stuffing his mouth with cheese and ham.

“Well, as good as it can be. Don’t know exactly what I’m gonna do now. All I know is that I’m taking a year off and taking a breather for the first time.” (Y/N) chuckled.

“I just can’t believe you’d spend all this time going to school, twice as much. I don’t like school at all,” Seth chimed in, picking apart the cheese and filling his mouth.

“So, you spent these past four years studying, including your summers?” Bella added.

“That’s correct,” (Y/N) smiled. “And now I have a degree and nothing to do with it.”

The group chuckled and moved towards the adults as they were being called to dinner. In the center of the table was a big platter of spaghetti and meatballs, (Y/N)’s favorite food, a tray of toasted garlic bread, and a bowl of a colorful mix of spring salad.

(Y/N) always enjoyed her mother’s cooking. Even on her saddest days, Allison’s cooking could warm her heart at any time. She and her mother had a very close relationship, even after four years of distance. Since her father left early in her life, her mother had always tried her hardest to make sure both her children were loved and cared for. And she stayed wondering where she had gone wrong with Sam and hoping (Y/N) didn’t stray away as her eldest had.

The dinner group had all taken their seats at the dinner table and were passing around the various platters, serving themselves their desired portions. Jacob and Seth were overfilling their plates, receiving a laugh from their respective parents. Charlie, Harry, and Billy were filling their plates with more protein than carbohydrates and the moms at the table smiled at the males engulfing the meatballs. (Y/N) looked around the table and smiled. It had been a long time since she had sat down with the important people in her life and was relaxed, even if two of them were missing.

After everyone was served, everything went almost quiet. Some background music could be heard from the living room and the sound of forks hitting plates and mouths chewing filled the environment. Everyone was comfortable with the silence, but there was still one question in everyone’s mind.

“Where’s Sam?” Seth spoke up, voicing everyone’s question. The whole table paused in action and Seth felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Sue softly elbowed her son. “What?”

“It’s okay, Sue,” (Y/N) smiled. “He couldn’t be here, bud.”

“Maybe he was feeling bad, like Leah.” He added earning a burning stare from both his parents.

“Maybe, Seth.”

“I just wanna apologize for our daughter missing this dinner. I know she really wanted to see you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, Harry, it’s really no problem. I’m sure I’ll catch up with her soon enough.” (Y/N) smiled trying to ease the tension felt in the room. She could see her mother gripping her fork tightly as she kept her head down. “But I would also like to apologize on behalf of Sam, I know he wanted to be here.”

Everyone simply nodded and went back to their plates. The rest of the evening was enjoyable. No one mentioned the pair that was missing, and (Y/N)’s past four years were questioned in depth. She had an answer for everything except “What are you gonna do now?”

She didn’t know and that’s what she answered. She mentioned she wanted to study medicine, having finished a degree in biology and always loved taking care of other people. Sue was excited, being a nurse herself. But (Y/N) had landed at a standstill in terms of her life and career. A vast portion of her life had been defined as a student and now that this part was over, she didn’t know who she was.

The dinner festivities were over soon thereafter, leaving Allison and (Y/N) to clean up after the group. The Uley pair put everything away in silence, exhausted from the eventful day. (Y/N) could see as her mother wiped away a few stray tears, sniffling behind her hair. The girl knew better than to bring the topic back up and left her mother with a kiss on the temple and a good night.

Upstairs, (Y/N) prepared herself for bed. The event had drained nay energy still left in her and she plopped down on the bed with a small thud. She had prepared her clothes for the next day, knowing her energy would also be drained but still excited to have this change. Her eyes fluttered close as she heard in the distance her mother’s quiet footsteps on the staircase, darkness overtaking her.

Next->

A/N: if you wish to be tagged for the next parts, please let me know. I’d be happy to. <3

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soobmint · 3 years

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paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.”

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest.

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together.

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood.

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck.

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure.

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face.

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into.

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back.

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

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nixotinix · 3 years

Text

What's up, my cool cats and kittens! So this is different from my usual content, but I'm bored and this entire blog is just a shitpost. So!! I'm gonna give everyone some convention advice and tips.

Before we start though, I wanna make it clear that I'm not a con veteran, I'm a damn teenager who's been going to cons for 3 years tops (not counting 2020). But I do have some behind the scenes info since one of my dad's relatives runs a real successful con around where I live, so I've seen some of what goes on.

This is probably gonna be multiple parts, so I'll be marking these posts with #kingscontips so people can find them.

This post is about the basic parts of a con and some information about them. So without further ado, let's get into it!

Parts of a Convention

First we have the main hall, or just the hall. This is the biggest area of a convention by far, and it's where people talk and hang out and take pictures. This is where you'll usually see a bunch of those cosplayers with super elaborate cosplays. This area can be super populated, so take care to not bump into anybody, as parts of their cosplay or prop could break.

Next is the vendor's hall/artist's alley. These are sometimes separate, sometimes together. The umbrella term, from what I've heard, is the dealer's hall. The Vendor's Hall is a place where people sell official merchandise from a piece of media. Think figurines, movies, comic books, things like that. Meanwhile, the Artist's Alley is a place where artists can sell their own work that they themselves made. Think prints, stickers, keychains, that good stuff. This place is also called the Wallet Drainer.

Next are panels, arguably the most popular part of conventions. They're organized meetups at a certain place and time. There's usually a panel (ha) of speakers or hosts who talk about things. The topics of panels can range from shows to games to cosplay tips. They're super fun and I'd reccomend fitting as many of them into your schedule as possible so you can sit in a room with a bunch of sweaty nerds and listen to other sweaty nerds talk about their niche.

A subset of panels are celebrity meet-and-greets and autograph signings. These are usually people like famous cosplayers or voice actors. These panels are stupidly popular. If you wanna get a good spot, get there early. Not like, 4 days early, but a good 15-30 minutes early. Maybe even 45. Especially if you've got another panel to catch 15 minutes after.

Cosplay meetups! Incredibly fun. These are usually organized by attendees of the con through the convention organizers. It's where people who are cosplaying characters from one certain media (usually just one series or show, rarely broad categories like "anime" because that would be half the attendees or more) get together and talk about their cosplays and their media of choice. These are like panels, but without a host and you can talk to whoever you want. They're at a certain time and place, just like panels.

One of my favourite con events is the cosplay contest. Whether it's a big con or a small con, these are commonplace and are super fun to attend to see all the unique cosplays. You can even enter these contests yourself, although a lot of cons require you to make some parts of your cosplay. I hear the standard is 50-60% of your cosplay must be made by you. Excluding the obvious things like shoes and wigs. Some contests are organized by experience, others by age. Winners do receive awards and prizes. These contests are prejudged and, if you do enter, you'll have to meet with the judges to tell them about your cosplay. This could be an entire post in and of itself, but I'll make that later.

Concerts and raves! These events, along with the cosplay contest, may require an additional ticket to enter. Concerts are what you'd expect, and raves usually take place after all of the other events, like panels and the dealer's hall, have closed. Not all raves are 18+, but I'd check the rules of your con. The schedule should say if an event is 18+ or not.

Speaking of 18+ events, let's talk about those. If you are a minor, do NOT try to enter 18+ panels or events. You will have your ID checked at the door and if you're under 18 and you try to get into the panel, you won't be let in. If you get into the panel and you are under 18, you'll likely be kicked out or banned from the convention. Trust me, you can wait until you're 18 to go into these panels or events. It's not worth getting a lifetime ban. Seriously. Don't do it.

Another common sight at your average con is the gaming room! This place is gonna smell worse than the sewers, so be prepared. They usually have one or two virtual reality headsets, which are the most popular console there, so you'll have to wait in line. They'll also have a handful of consoles and your occasional arcade machine. There's also board games and tabletop roleplay games, though these may be in a different section than the video games.

Depending on the size of your convention, they may have other amenities. For example, the con I went to most recently (in 2019 ;-;) had a manga library and a maid cafe. Make sure to look into what events your convention has so you can plan your schedule accordingly!

#kingscontips #convention tips #convention etiquette #conetiquette #convention #long post #cursing tw #caps tw

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bangtan-madi · 4 years

Text

All Of Our Lifetimes — Five: Requiem

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.5k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories?

Part — 5 / 15

Warnings — language

A/N — Taglist is open! Comment, message, or ask and I’ll add you to the roster :) (Also I’m a freakin’ moron and forgot to post on Wednesday night like usual, which was yesterday. So enjoy this late chapter lol!)

Previous — Next

The first person you text is Namjoon. To you, he was the obvious choice. Friendly, open, and the first of the members to accept you into their enclave. It wasn't anything in particular, just saying hi and reminding him of who you are and that you were looking forward to tomorrow.

Not two minutes later, he replies and invites you to join a group chat he'd just created for you and all seven members.

"This way, we can all keep in touch!" he says. "DMs are fine, of course, but if we all wanna get to know each other, group chats can be a lot of fun."

He wasn't wrong. The remainder of Sunday evening is spent texting the members. On the way home, while you cook a quick dinner, and when you're relaxing before bed. They're flooding your messages with all kinds of hilarity. Jungkook and Hoseok are a fan of memes, while Yoongi seems to prefer the straightforward communication that gifs provide. Jimin and Namjoon adore emojis, and Jin sticks to his usual bad dad jokes. Taehyung replies to a question every now and then, but for the most part, he's absent from the conversation.

"You're awfully quiet, Taehyung-ssi," Jimin teases half-way through a conversation on whether or not mint ice cream is edible.

"I'm working, but you guys are blowing up my phone so it's hard to concentrate."

A sigh slips out as you reply, "You can put your phone on vibrate, Taehyung. Really, we won't mind. Or at least I certainly won't."

His response is speedy. "Okay. I'll talk to you all tomorrow."

Namjoon sends you a private message. "Don't let him bother you. He can get like this when he's focused. He doesn't do well with things distracting him."

"Yeah...you're probably right."

"Oh, I definitely am!"

"Hey, thank you again for everything. Except for Kim Taehyung, I really feel at ease with everyone. I feel like we're going to get along great at the set tomorrow."

"My pleasure, [Y/n]. I really wanted to avoid you feeling like more of an outsider than you probably already do. Being in a new country, even if you speak the language, can be scary. I've been to enough of them to know that there's no place like home...but maybe we can make it a bit easier."

A smile spreads across your face at his genuine spirit and pure kindness. "You have, big time! Each of you is really fun to be around. Honestly? I can't wait for 'Run' tomorrow! Can I ask where we're going? I didn't see a production report yet, and Director Hyeon hasn't responded to my email."

"We'll probably knock out a few episodes in one night, and I think we're closing down the Seoul Museum of Art. They're going to close a bit early so we can have it to ourselves. The games we have planned will happen there!"

You turn your eyes away from your cell phone at the mention of the museum. Recalling what happened over the weekend, returning to that place doesn't seem like a terrific idea. But then again, if you are there with Taehyung, maybe the two of you can finally talk about what you see in your dreams.

Maybe, just maybe, you can get those answers.

Your resolve strengthens a little bit, and a new message comes through, one not from the group chat or Namjoon. You click out of your conversation with the leader and check the notification.

"Who are you?"

The question is blunt and straightforward, coming from the second-youngest member via a private chat. You open the message, and your fingers hover above the keyboard for a few moments.

"Hi Taehyung. What do you mean?"

"I know we've met before. I can't remember where."

You bite your lip at his statement. So you were right; he does have some sort of familiarity with you, too. Now, to figure out just how much.

"Have you been to a concert before? Or a fan-sign? Maybe you worked on the set of Hwarang?"

"None of those. I actually didn't listen to much of your music before recently, and I've never been to a concert or fan-sign. And I've never worked on any set before."

"You weren't a fan of BTS? Even though you applied to Big Hit?"

"Nope. Actually, my roommate Milo was the Bangtan superfan. I heard of you guys through her, and then of Big Hit. I applied because I wanted to live in Seoul. It's been my dream all my life. Big Hit just happened to have the job I wanted in the ideal location. Call it fate, I guess."

A half-truth, but it will have to do for now.

"I know. I remember. Your gut feeling."

You pause, your fingers halting mid-type. How did he already know about that? You hadn't mentioned it in either the group chat or in the earlier conversation. In fact, the only person you'd mentioned the gut feeling about Seoul to was—

"I have to go, sorry. I'll see you at the museum tomorrow. I think you know the way."

The museum looks almost spooky after the sun begins to set over the buildings that touch the sky. Downtown Seoul is as beautiful as ever as the bright oranges and pastel pinks bathe the exteriors of each in brilliant colors. If it weren't for the thirty or so Big Hit employees rushing about, you might've stood at the entrance for much longer than thirty seconds.

But the moment you're on-scene, you go to work. One of the producers flags you down, offers a brief introduction, and tells you where to hide the English words.

"Have you seen what we did a few episodes back, eighty-seven and eighty-eight?" he asks, shoving a stack of stickers into your hands. "When we put Hangul all over the Oil Tank Culture Park?"

You shake your head, offering a sheepish smile. "I haven't...exactly watched too much 'Run.'"

The producer waves it off. "Just run around the building and stick these wherever you think seven boys may or may not find them. Feel free to go crazy. We have fifteen minutes to get everything set before filming starts. The boys should be here soon. So, go! Once you're done, come back here. While they're running around, you can help me with the grading system."

"Grading system?"

"They're going to make sentences with the words they find. Since you know English the best, you can award points to each word based on difficulty in using."

A smile spreads across your face. "Got it! Sounds fun."

You speed off into the museum, weaving past the sound and lighting crew that are attempting to set up. Several of the museum staff have also stayed behind to give guidance, and you're relieved that the boys and company have the entire building to themselves. This wouldn't be possible during daytime hours when the public is here.

You begin sticking several dozen stickers along the walls, on the frames of pieces of art, on the marble floor. Basically, anywhere you can reach. You cover the Van Gogh exhibit with difficult words like "effervescence" and "halcyon," along with colorful words like "lilac" and "vermilion."

The further into the building you move, the fewer and fewer people you see. Once you've passed the room of modern art and approach the Winged Victory of Samothrace, there's no one in sight. Down to your last few words, you slip into the dimmed hallway and turn the corner.

Winged Victory is just as you remember. Tall and beautiful and haunting. The statue is still so familiar to you. Looking at the base, you can almost see the body of the woman from your dream. Right before you and Taehyung started running for your lives, this was where a murder occurred.

You flinch at the memory of the blood, but something else inside you is pulling you out of the room and towards the fountain. Last time you saw it, you ran from the room and left the friendly acquaintance behind. Part of you wonders what he must've thought. Surely, you looked like you'd seen a ghost.

But you might as well have.

Your feet tip-toe on the marble. The boys have most certainly arrived, and the filming has started from the sound of it. Their crazed and excited laughter fills the echo-y halls. Seeing as there aren't any stickers this far into the museum, you take your chances and continue moving deeper in. The producer could wait just a few more minutes, couldn't he?

The last of the sunlight ricochets across each panel of glass in the dome ceiling, greeting you with shards of light skewed in every direction. Like fireflies dancing together, they bring an almost magical aura to the open space, one very different from the horrors of your nightmares. The columns are made of ever-moving fire, and the fountain is made of glittery stars.

As you stand in the doorway, your throat drys and tightens. Seeing this place again, no matter how different, brings back the memories you can't explain. Are they even memories? Surely, that has to be what they are. But from when or from whom, you can't explain. They're a requiem for someone you hardly know.

Does Taehyung know the answers? Does he know more than you about this event you keep playing over and over in your mind? He's been in your dreams ever since you were a child, as a version much older than you were then and even older than you are now. Who has just one dream their whole lives, unless the explanation is that he has that dream, too?

You shake your head at the absurdity of it all. "What am I doing here?" you murmur, running your hand through your hair.

"Are you okay?"

The deep voice behind you causes you to jump and spin, eyes wide as you spot a familiar face at the entrance to the fountain. Taehyung stands with his hands in the pockets of his pants, his head tilted as he observes you.

"Holy shit, don't sneak up on people!"

The brunet smirks a little and shrugs. "Didn't mean to, sorry. You were staring off into space and didn't even hear me walk down the hallway. And it's hard to be quiet on marble floors."

"God, sorry, I didn't mean to snap." You run your hands over your face. "This museum has...some strange memories for me. I thought coming back here would help, but I think I've made it worse."

"How do you mean? I thought you hadn't been to Seoul before?"

"I haven't. It's complicated." Your eyes flicker to the corridor behind him. "Where's your cameraman?"

"I ditched him, told him I was running off to the restroom. But I didn't see you anywhere, so I figured you'd be back here."

Eyebrows pulling together, you reply, "How'd you figure that?"

"Well, you seemed really freaked out last weekend. You ran out of here like a ghost was chasing you. I was honestly worried until I saw you at Big Hit the next day, and you seemed fine, so..."

He trails off, and the realization of his words hits you. "Wait...shit, were you the one I was talking to both times I visited here this week? The one in the hoodie and mask?"

Taehyung nods, though there's a tiny line between his brows that shows he's as confused as you are. "Yes? I thought you knew that from day one, when you spoke to me at the Van Gogh exhibit."

Shaking your head fervently, you spout, "No! Not at all. I had no idea, honest to god. I just thought you were shy or introverted or maybe had a tough time talking to girls. I never, ever thought you were..." You gesture to all of him.

His brown eyes widen as he steps closer and out of the doorway. "Wait, really? You had no idea."

"None!"

He chuckles softly, turning to gaze at the fountain as the sunlight fades to soft blues of night. "I'd assumed you knew who I was. You were so open and friendly to a perfect stranger. I thought you'd recognized me."

"Not at all," you retort. "I was being nice and friendly because there was something about you that was so damn familiar. Kind of like this whole place, actually. I don't know. I can't explain it."

Taehyung nods and runs a hand through his curly locks. "I won't lie, there's something off about this place for me, too." He shifts his attention from the fountain to you. "You weren't lying about anything you said before, were you? About you being called to Seoul and not knowing why?"

You lock eyes with him as you reply, "I promise, everything I said was true."

"Then why did you run away?"

A heavy sigh slips out, and you sit down on the water fountain's edge. Looking into the water to your side, you run various ways to go about this disclosure. Blunt truth? A comforting lie? A bit of both?

"[Y/n]?"

"I've had this...nightmare, ever since I was a little girl. Ever since I could remember. It's always the same. I'm running for my life with someone I know that I care deeply about. We're trying to escape a murderer who's closing in behind us. He's just slaughtered one of our friends and he's coming for us."

You pause to take a breath, and Taehyung takes that pause to sit beside you. He doesn't say a word, only waist patiently for you to continue.

"We're eventually trapped. The man with me tells me to run while he distracts the murderer. Of course, I don't listen. There's a fight. We're both injured. And we both die."

There's a pregnant pause in the air before Taehyung hangs his head and murmurs, "That sounds horrible."

"I haven't told you everything," you reply. "I'm afraid I shouldn't...but what the hell." You gesture to the space around you. "In my dream, the entire thing is set here, in the Seoul Museum of Art. Our friend was killed at the base of Winged Victory. The fight happens among these columns. And the man and I, we die in this very fountain, bleeding out from gunshot wounds."

You turn to face the man beside you, seeing his eyes shift from his feet to yours as his head tilts slightly. "And every time, it's the same three people besides me. The same woman at the base of Winged Victory, the same murderer with a gun, the same man that this nightmare-version of me loves. I have no idea who the first two are..."

In your hesitation, Taehyung says, "But you know the last one."

Nodding, your knuckles turn white as you drip your knees. Here it goes. All or nothing. No turning back now.

"I do. He's—"

"—Me."

Taglist — @just-call-me-trash-can, @jaienn

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cryoculus · 4 years

Note

More love for Semi please? Anything will do, your writing is exquisite in any form anyway :D

» Word Count: 1,857 wordsCross-posted on AO3

SORRY THIS IS SO LATE :(( I actually wrote three chapters’ worth of content for him already and you can read the whole thing on the ao3 link.(NOTE: This is based on the current events of the final arc of the Haikyuu manga. I tagged it as a spoiler but I won’t really go into the specifics of what’s going on. Semi is our main focus here ^__^)

—

“Please?”

“No,” was your flat reply.

Semi heaved a long sigh, mouth twitching into an irritated grimace. You returned his reaction with a sassy look of your own—one, finely penciled brow quirked as bright, red lips rivalled the adamance that Semi brought about. While you were in no position to tell him to just go back to his cubicle and get today’s work done (you, sadly, held the same position in office), you at least had the right to turn him down. Your department had a monthly financial report coming up. Why on Earth did he want your help writing a song?

“Come on,” he groaned. “You know I’d eat my fist first before asking for your help, but our manager really digs your old pieces from college.”

Your eye twitched.

“Way to beg for someone’s aid in a time of dire need,” you bit back sarcastically. “Go do it then.”

“What?”

“Eat your whole fist.” You gave him a pointed look, even making a show of paying attention by putting your pen down.

Your co-worker let out a frustrated groan, fingers carding through his messy, ashen hair. The gesture made the tattoos on his chest visible for a second, before disappearing again behind his barely done button-up. It was a mystery, how a man like him made it as a public servant—with his flamboyant piercings and tip-dyed hair—but you supposed you should learn to look past physical appearances. The agency allowed it, so why should you make a fuss?

Ah, right. Semi Eita was the most hot-headed man in your department, and he had a knack for picking fights with you.

“If you get the balance sheet done by five o'clock, I might reconsider,” you told him, not really meaning the words, as you directed your attention back at the paperwork on your desk. Balance sheets are the toughest to fill out, since the data needed had to be collated from different sectors of the city. You highly doubted that Semi, with his thinner-than-a-strand-of-hair patience, could finish it in one sitting.

“Deal.”

Your gaze hardened as you looked back up at him. “Come again?”

“Are you deaf?” he asked, folding lean arms across his chest. “I said it’s a deal.”

You couldn’t help the snort that made its way past your lips. Whatever his reasons may be, it was painfully obvious that he was desperate. But still. You knew that he wouldn’t be able to carry out the deed in your given deadline, but instead of talking him out of his own agreement, you merely shook your head in acceptance.

Semi eventually stalked off to his cubicle; the one just in front of yours. There was a divider that separated each employee’s workspace from the others, and it at least granted some semblance of privacy from outside gazes. You’ve been to Semi’s cubicle a couple of times—more to coordinate paperwork than engage in conversation, really—and he decorated his personal space exactly how a part-time rock band vocalist would. Though he didn’t exactly put up posters and painted the walls black, he added his own flair to his desk with guitar figurines, neon stickers on his desktop, and a photo of his bandmates enclosed in a sparkly picture frame.

The only reason you bothered looking so closely was the fact that you also went to the same university together (under the same degree, too!) You’ve always been keen around him, with his loud way of living, as opposed to you, who’s always chosen to live simply and without pretentiousness. Sure, the disparity between your lifestyles had caused you to be at each other’s throats since freshman year, but it was still a surprise that your synergy was top notch. You would, as Semi put it so delicately, eat your fist first before admitting to the fact, but it’s a given that you preferred to work with him instead of other, unfamiliar people.

You sighed, brandishing a bored look at the bleak document in front of you. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to help him out…

But when you recalled every time he’s talked over you during board meetings, sneered at you when he got a higher score during exams, and his distateful behavior in general, you steeled your resolve.

Either he’s going to get that balance sheet over with or he’ll keel over. If he wanted your help, he’s going to have to work for it.

—

You were in the middle of fixing your belongings when the sound of a stack of papers hitting your desk rang in your ears.

“There,” Semi said breathlessly, making you look up at him in surprise. He even tossed a flash drive on top of the papers he deposited, where you saw the city hall’s heading printed in full color. You reluctantly checked your phone for the time. 16:57, it said, in a mockingly bold typeface before shoving it in your pocket.

The damn guy really did get it done before five.

“The electronic document is saved in there, in case you lose the print.” He was panting at this point, and you had a vague idea as to why he looked like he just ran a marathon. The one printer in your department (this year’s budget was cut) broke down a few days ago, and the nearest functional one was at the Logistics office three floors down.

Still refusing to believe it, you peered at the documents he just brought in. You scanned each of the entries printed on each page. That’s when you realized that Sendai City’s expenses have skyrocketed since the new year because the list of expenses occupied a whole page alone. A worried sigh made its way past your lips, but at least the liabilities were cut down to a minimum. You heard that the governor of Miyagi was going to pledge a few hundred thousand yen for the city’s founding anniversary, too.

You paused. Blinking, you rearranged the papers neatly back into its pile—biting back the urge to clutch your wounded pride. Semi was looking at you expectantly, like he wanted you to praise his flawless bookkeeping.

In actuality, his determination was beginning to freak you out.

“Why do you want me to help you so badly?” you asked, voice almost trembling. “Seriously, dude. I thought we hated each other. Quit acting out of character.”

“I told you, our manager really liked the songs you composed back in senior year,” he drawled, tired of having to repeat himself.

Your face twisted in confusion. “Who even is this manager of yours?”

There was a half-second delay in his response, but before you could paint a reason for his hesitation, he immediately replied with, “Saito. Saito Makoto.”

You stiffened, gaze going rigid at the mention of that name. “Oh.”

“Yeah. If I manage to give him a piece by the end of the month, he’ll help us sign a contract with a big-shot record label,” Semi explained, oblivious to your discomfort.

“But haven’t you been writing songs since high school?” you wondered aloud. “That’s what you said during our Pol-Gov class ice breaker.”

He frowned. “You still remember that?”

Okay. You kept forgetting that your sharp memory wasn’t always a praiseworthy thing. You gulped, feeling the heat creep up your face. “Um, anyway, the point still stands. You’ve been writing songs for God-knows-how-long, and while I’m not one to dish out compliments especially to you, I’m pretty sure they’re okay if you managed to gather a decent fanbase.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning against the divider of your cubicle. “We’re a rock band. I write rock songs, but Saito wants me to write a goddamn love song.”

Typical Saito. Though he looked like a rugged high school delinquent, he was awfully sentimental when it came to music. He was the one who inspired you to write the songs Semi was pestering you about all day after all…

“Fine,” you relented. “I never go back on my word and since you did a…good job with this, I’ll help you out.”

His light brown eyes lit up for a moment, but Semi managed to mask his relief in a split second—containing his excitement in a single nod. “Are you free this Saturday? You can come by my place and we could start getting to work.”

Well, that was forward of him. You expected to work on the song in a coffee shop or something, but he went on ahead and invited you to his own humble abode anyway. You parsed through your weekend plans in your mind, and once you confirmed that you were free, you scribbled down your phone number on a sticky note. Almost five years of acquaintance and you’d never bothered giving it to him. Huh.

“Just text me the time and place,” you told him, pocketing the flash drive as you slipped the balance sheet in one of the empty folders in your organizer. “You better not pull anything funny and lead me to a secluded alley or something.”

Semi scoffed, folding the piece of paper and sticking it inside his trousers. “As if.”

You then slung your bag across your shoulders, grinning insincerely. “Glad we’re on the same page, then.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

With that, Semi exited your cubicle, leaving you no room to wonder why he didn’t even spare a quick ‘thank you’.

Just as you were smoothing out the creases on your pencil skirt, your phone began buzzing in the pocket of your blazer. Brows raised, you fished it out and unlocked it.

From: Makohey, wanna grab some dinner? its on me :3

Speak of the devil. You swallowed the lump in your throat, fingers shakily managing to type a coherent reply.

To: MakoYeah sure. Where to tho

From: Makocan we get some italian? ik u love the udon place across the street but akane’s having dinner w her friends there

From: Makocant have her seeing us together now do we

The way he put that so casually made your chest constrict with a too-familiar sensation. You heaved a deep breath, pursing your lips into a thin line as you sent a quick “Ok” text to end your conversation. Saito replied with those iffy heart-eyed emojis that he only ever used when he wanted something from you, and you had to compose yourself so you wouldn’t burst into tears right there.

“Oi.”

You almost jumped at the sound of Semi’s voice as he peered inside your cubicle once more. He clutched his suitcase in one hand, eyeing you curiously.

“What do you want?”

“You’re headed uptown, too, right?” he asked, and you nodded reluctantly. “Thought you’d want a lift.”

“Semi, just because I’m helping you achieve your dreams, doesn’t mean you have to be nice to me.” You laughed softly, tension easing from his uncalled for kindness.

He, however, looked unconvinced. “Do you want a ride or not?”

You raised your hands in defeat, managing a genuine smile. “Alright, fine. It’ll be a hellish commute anyway.”

You liked to think that that’s how you started becoming friends with your odd, hot-headed co-worker.

#haikyuu!!#semi eita #semi eita x reader #shiratorizawa #hqscenario #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu spoilers #hq headcanons #hq!! headcanons

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roseelise · 4 years

Text

The Weather // Dylan O’brien

Reposting all my writings from @r0s3mm, my main blog, it is not stolen or plagiarized. All my works on my masterlist are main unless stated otherwise.

Hello! Welcome to 2-h, the back up account of @r0s3mm, I’ll be posting my works on here too until (hopefully) my blog gets restored and if not this will become my main blog.

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien x ofc!Alice

Word Count: 5129

Author’s note/warnings: break up? Swearing? Reader and Dylan talking about their relationship, a series of voicemail reader sends Dylan at different moments after their relationship ends.

Based off of the song: Lawrence - “The Weather”

Come say “Hi!” Wattpad

Masterlist

***********************

“Hey D’, it’s me, leaving you a message on your voicemail… again. Listen, I know we agreed to give each other space but I just wanted to let you know that your change of address probs didn’t go through because I got your new script at home- hum, at my place. I’ll just send it to Liz’s office… Oh, also I wanted to know if you wanted me to box up and send you the rest of the stuff you have here, there’s a few sweatshirts and other clothing items, as your mom would say. Okay, so you don’t have to call me back, you can text me, maybe even email me. I can leave your stuff at your mom’s house, I’m seeing Jules on the 23rd, so yeah … whatever you feel good with. Ok, bye.”

“I won’t talk about the weather Not with you, we’re not together ‘Cause even when the sky is grey, I’m feeling blue And though the winds are always changing And the clouds are rearranging A part of me will always be in love with you”

I hung up the phone and placed it in my jeans’ back pocket and turned up the volume from the TV.

“A heatwave this week turned the city of Anaheim, home to Disneyland, into the hottest place in theUnited States. The Tick fire forced 50,000 people to flee their homes, many in the mid…” The weather man on the tv announced as I picked up the package with Liz’s name on it from a tv or movie set in LA, taking back my cell phone, I texted Liz, Dylan’s manager telling her I’d be sending her the script in the next few days, putting the block of pages on the bench next to the front door, I sat down next to it as the news kept playing as a background noise accompanied by the rain falling down harshly on the large windows.

It had been a little bit over 5 months and I still hadn’t tidy up from his big move, a lot of empty and piled up boxes were on the floor next to the sliding door, there were empty spaces on the wall and people who would be coming in the apartment could easily guess that the large white wall used to be full, filled with baseball jersey’s, many pictures, music record, stickers of liquor brand, some posters and a few music instruments.

“Hi Jules, it’s me, are we still on for the 23rd? Ok great then, I’ll pick you up. You got any news from your brother? Yeah, I know, I asked you to refuse if I asked but I just wanna make sure that with his new place he’s good and away from the fires and that he’s … that he’s safe y’know? Ok great then, just maybe tell him to- actually you know what? Never mind. I gotta go, but I’ll text you this week… alright bye!”

“There’s a fire in LA Since you moved there back in May I wonder, should I call to see if you’re alright? Yeah, you’re a million miles away But I still think of you each day And hope the weather doesn’t keep you cold tonight”

After picking up what was on the floor and actually tidying up the apartment, I put on my rain boots with my coat and an umbrella before going out the door with the trash and some things that I wanted to get rid of. I walked the streets of the city, listening to the chaotic sounds, the loud voices and the fast steps of those who wanted to escape the rain. Walking to the Blue Ribbon Brasserie, I turned left to get to Sullivan St and passed the convenience store and got myself a few stamps and envelopes for the thank you notes I still had to write after the home warming gifts I received a while back. I put my earphones in my ear as I gave the cashier the money and put everything in my purse. As I entered the restaurant, I took off my coat and held it tightly against me, my eyes falling on a couple sitting at the bar, both a drink in hand and completely enamored with each other.

“Table for one miss?” The host asks taking a menu.

“Yes, thank you.” I smiled at the young man.

I followed him to a table near the windows. He pulled my chair for me to sit. I smiled at him and thanked him.

“What would you like to start with?”

“Glass of white wine, if you have it. Actually no, I’ll get a G&T, please”

“Right away, ma’am” The waiter’s New Yorker accent came through and I smiled at him as I picked up the menu and swiftly looked through it, already knowing what I wanted to eat as soon as I had left my apartment.

The rain was still pattering against the window and it gave a nice ambient sound to the restaurant that for once was almost empty on a Monday afternoon. A few minutes later, the waiter came back with my drink, putting a squared napkin underneath.

“Would you like to order now, or would you like a few more minutes?”

“I’ll order now, thank you. So, I’ll get the chicken barley soup with the steak, please.”

He smiled, took the menu from my hands and left to another table. I watched the other waiters walk around with platters of food as people started to come in. Usually the restaurant would be busy from opening to the time it closed but today felt different. I held the glass in my hands as I sipped it slowly taking the wedge of lime off of it and biting into it and letting it drop on the piece of paper after draining it of its juice.

As the waiter approached my table and put my soup down my phone’s screen lit up with Dylan’s name and contact photo. I had taken the picture when we were out one day and waiting to cross the street. My finger swiped the screen to answer.

“Ali? Hey, it’s Dylan…” His voice rang through my ear, it was hoarse and dry. He had been smoking.

“Yeah, I know. Your contact info popped up.” I said, silently slurping my soup.

“Oh, wasn’t sure if you had gotten rid of it. Hum, I- I thought it’d be better to call you rather than text you and I don’t even know the last time I sent an email that wasn’t for work.” He chuckled quietly but didn’t hear a sound from the other side. “So, for my stuff you can keep it, I won’t really need it, but if you really wanna get rid of it, I can transfer you the money for the delivery and stuff. It-It’s however you want it.”

“Yeah, no. I’ll send it to you or Liz, I wanna start over with a clean slate. I also found a few caps of yours earlier when I was cleaning up, so I’ll send those over as well.” I said finishing the rest of my soup. It was silent on the other side of the line for a few seconds before I heard him sigh.

“A, maybe we should talk? Y’know, actually have a conversation. The only times we’ve talked in the past few months were through voicemail and-”

“Sounds good Dylan, just right now isn’t the right moment. I’m out at a restaurant and I don’t think I can actually do this right now and in public.” I said dryly my voice full of emotion. A waiter came to pick up the now empty bowl and I smiled up at him.

“Yeah okay. Is everything good up there? Are you feeling good?”

“Yep, I’m fine, we’re all fine.”

“That’s good. I feel a bit far away from everyone, y’know ?!”

“Yeah, are- are you okay? I’ve seen the news on the TV about the fires. I was worried.” I said the last part quietly.

“I’m fine too, yeah, you don’t have to worry. Pretty sure Jules or my mom would have rung you up if something had happened.”

“Yeah probably…” I whispered. “Did you start smoking again? Your voice sounded funny when I answered.” I said catching the eye of the waiter that was bringing me my steak. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome, miss. Hope you’ll enjoy” The small exchange between the waiter and I was soon over, and I picked up a fry.

“Yeah, a little. It was weird being in LA, felt nervous at first and I couldn’t shake it after. Are you at Blue Ribbon?”

“You were nervous? Dyl’ you’ve been to LA a hundred times for filming and shit and yeah I am.” I said, picking at the veggies in my plate.

“I never actually lived there for more than four or five months, and usually I’m not alone.”

“Don’t.” I said loudly, I lifted my head and looked at other costumers. “Listen I gotta go.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to-”

I hung up and went to eat my dinner and finishing my drink quickly. After paying my bill, I put my coat back on, the weather would be a little chillier than earlier. Halloween was approaching and carved in pumpkins were starting to make an appearance on people’s doorstep and balconies. The rain from earlier had stopped and had been replaced by clouds and sun light.

“So, I won’t talk about the weather No, I won’t talk about the weather I won’t talk about the weather Not with you, we’re not together 'Cause even when the sky is grey, I’m feeling blue And though the winds are always changing And the clouds are rearranging A part of me will always be in love with you”

Music was playing loudly in the apartment, the vacuum loud over it and it felt as if the sun had disappeared from the sky. Halloween was even closer now, only 8 days away. I checked the time, 10:37, Jules would be here in just under two hours. There were two boxes full of clothes, pictures, sports’ games tickets and damaged drumsticks, that I will have to leave in Jules’ car at the end of the day. The two of us had planned to get lunch and then hang out. She told me that some of our friends and her were planning a Halloween party and that they insisted that I come “You gotta get out of your hiding place, Alice!” They had screamed at me through the phone almost a month ago. Even if the weather wasn’t really great, Julia insisted we leave her car at my place and walk.

I had gotten ready slowly, music still blasting through the small speaker when it suddenly stopped. Thinking it was Julia texting me she had arrived I jogged to get to my phone in the other room, it was the other O’Brien child.

“Hello?” I answered the phone, putting it on speaker while I walked back to the bathroom to finish brushing my teeth. “Ali, are you busy? I tried calling you a couple times.” I looked at the screen where I had missed a few phone calls. “M’getting ready to spend the day with your sister actually. Can you make it quick?” I said spitting in the sink and rinsing my mouth. “I just wanted to know if right now would be a good time to have that conversation I talked about last week…?” I stopped and looked at my phone and sighed. “Your sister’s supposed to pick me up in ten minutes, think you can finish in ten minutes?” A silence was heard before light chuckling and I swear I could picture in my mind how he looked in that exact moment. “What?” “‘Nothing. Look, why don’t we try to set up a date and time for us to talk? I think it’d be good. Maybe clarify things up a bit.” “Yeah sure.” The doorbell buzzed, I sighed, picked up the phone putting it against my ear and taking it off speaker mode. “Listen Jules here and I’ve- wait a sec” I told him before shooting Julia a one letter text to tell her I was on my way and putting on my shoes and coat. “Ok, so your sister’s here. I gotta go but if you call me back tonight at around 5, your time I should be back home and mentally prepared to have that conversation you want us to have.” I locked my door and ran down the steps to stop in front of the blue car with my friend resting against it, excitedly waving at me, I walked to the car. “So, I really gotta leave now, but don’t think I’m excited about this. I’m doing this for you.” “I don’t want to make you do this if you’re not ready A’.” He says, guilt overflowing the other emotion in his voice. “It’s fine, I’ll talk to you tonight.” I hung up and put my head in my hand, scratching my hairline and walking the rest of the distance to Jules.

“So, I won’t talk about the weather No, I won’t talk about the weather I won’t talk about the weather Not with you, we’re not together And it’s hard to say if we will ever be But I’ll admit my greatest fear is that The air will never clear So I just wish we could talk like you and me”

“Who was that?” Jules asked me as we started walking towards the larger and busier streets. “Damn you, O’Brien’s.” I mumbled as I pulled her into a greeting side hug. “Oh my god, was it Dylan? Are y’all talking again?” She was too excited for her own good. “Not really, I just wanted to know what he wanted me to do with the stuff of his left at the apartment and he started saying how we should talk about what happened.” “Yeah, I’m not still a hundred percent clear on that, by the way. I don’t think any of us expected you guys to break up after 4 years.” “Don’t remind me, please” I begged as I opened the door to the small café.

When we entered, I looked around for either an empty table or counter seats. I nudged Jules and pointed to a small table at the very back near the window and looked at her, watching for an answer.

“Sure.” She shrugged and took a newspaper off the stand we were standing next to.

We sat down and she opened the menu, looking through it as a woman brought us glasses of water.

“Hello ladies, how are you today?” “We’re good, Jane, thanks.” I asked sipping the iced water. “What about you?” Jules asked putting the cardboard menu down. “Oh, I am very good thank you” She said a huge grin on her face as she extended her left hand, on it a very beautiful diamond engagement ring. “You are fucking kidding me! Oh, my fuck!” Jules exclaimed jumping up and down. She and Jane were college friends, I had met her through Jules at a party a few years back. “Congratulations Jane!” I said leaning in for a hug and sitting back down.

Jane and Jules were standing up and talking in loud whispers as to not fully disturb the other customers. I picked up my cell phone and opened the messages app and clicked on Dylan’s conversation as a reflex before making the screen turn black and setting it back on the table.

“Hey Alice, I haven’t seen much of you in the past two months, but you and Dylan are so invited! Maybe you’ll be in my situation in a few months!” She said cheery, my head snapped up at the mention of my ex-boyfriend and I looked at Jules.

“What? What did I say?” Jane looked back and forth between us. “Y’know when I told you that my brother went to L.A to film a new project?” Jane nods, “Well it wasn’t fully true, yes he is filming something, but he also moved to L.A” Jane’s eyes go from Jules to me. “Dyl and I broke up 5 months ago …” I said picking my phone up again to play with something. Anxiety filling my body and making my fingers shake at the mention of the break-up.

The waitress just sits down next to me and pulls me to her and squeezes me telling me encouraging words before she is called back to the counter.

“The usual?” She asks and Jules and I nod with a smile. “I think we’ll take it to go, if you don’t mind.” Jules says as she finishes her glass of water, Jane’s eyes go over one last time before going to the kitchen.

When we leave the little café/diner we decide to walk through a park that’s nearby, eating our paninis and drinking our mango and strawberry smoothies.

“Hey,” Jules nudges me. “They added something to your bag…” I look at her a put my hand in the bag. “It’s a muffin?” Jules says unsure. “What?” My word stays stuck in my throat. “Pretty fucking sure Janey didn’t tell Henry that Dylan and I were broken up” “Henry? The cook?” I nod and put the muffin back in the paper bag. “Yeah, hum, when Henry started working there Dyl and I went there to get you a smoothie and Henry was there and he just started hitting on him and like he knew that we were together but I guess it was a running gag between them and whenever I went Henry would put a muffin in the bag for your brother with a note” I laugh remembering the memory. “Once,” I laugh stopping us from walking further. “Dylan went to pick up our order to bring back to his apartment, before we moved in, and he actually gave Henry his number … Anyway, yeah.”

Jules looks at me and pulls me to her side as I hold the bag tightly. “You miss him, huh?”. I put my head on her shoulder, “you’ve got no fucking idea”

We keep walking and talking, and I can see that she is trying really hard to change my ideas. We go into stores and try on stuff without buying anything, we just spend an afternoon hanging out and it feels so good.

At around seven thirty we part, and we walk back to my apartment, I put the boxes that I left in the lobby in her car and wave her off. Clutching the paper bag, I grab my keys from my coat’s pocket, unlock the main door before going to the building’s mailboxes, gathering my mail and going through the lobby’s door to wave to Sam, the receptionist, before going up the stairs since the elevator hasn’t been fixed in 4 months. As I get onto my floor, I wave at my neighbor who exits his apartment as he looks at my door. I turn the corner and see that my door is opened, fearing the worst I grab a baseball bat sitting near the door that my father forgot last weekend when he came over. I hear soft music coming from the record player sitting in the living room, the smell of ham and cheese stuffed chicken filled the place and for a moment I thought my mother had come to New York … I entered the kitchen with the bat lowered down knowing who was in my apartment from the humming they made.

“I made dinner” Dylan says turning around and leaning his back on the counter, he pushes himself off of the counter.

“I can see that.” I huff out not looking at him. “What are you doing here?” I ask him, putting my coat on the back of the chair and my purse on the table.

“I- I wanted to talk.” He says taking a step towards me.

“Yeah, I know I was about to call you … We said we would talk tonight, on the phone” He nods slowly and turns around to put food in two plates. He hands me one and gesture for me to sit.

“I’m not a fan of phones.”

“Yeah I know that, we could’ve facetimed or something.” I pick at my Brussel sprouts, usually loving the way he made them, but seeing here tonight caught me off guard.

I actually look at him for the first time tonight, he hasn’t changed that much, his hair is a little bit longer though, he is hungrily eating the food and nervously keeps his head down.

“What happened?” He suddenly says, his head lifting and eyes connecting with mine. I take in a short breath and can’t look away.

“What?” I shake my head and look down. I stand up and put as much distance between him and I as physically can while still being in the same room.

“What happened between us?”

“I can’t say that I honestly know. We weren’t on the same path; we didn’t want the same things … I don’t know” I mumble picking and my chewed-up nails, a habit I had taken up from him.

“Ok so why didn’t work, it’s not distance because god knows we’ve done that before, none of us were unfaithful” I grimace at the thought of him with another woman and look at him, he notices, and pain quickly passes behind his hazel eyes. “I- I don’t think, hope not, we’ve fallen out of love… So, what happened Al’?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know what you’re expecting me to say right now, showing up at my apartment at fucking 8 …” I say my voice low and full of emotions.

“We agreed to talk” He says standing up and talking another step closer.

“I agreed to talk to you on the phone because even if it’s been five months, I can’t look at you right now!” I say looking at the shirt he’s wearing

“Did you send my stuff yet?” He asks changing the subject and taking another step, now only at an arm’s length from me.

“I actually gave the boxes to Jules earlier. Left em’ in the lobby and gave them to her when she left.” He nods silently, turns around before starting to put away the food, knowing we probably would not be eating tonight. The domestic choreography started as we moved around each other with ease and habit, but I still tried to keep a distance between us. Without having to consult each other I bent down to a cupboard to grab a few Tupperware’s and set them on the counter as he passed me the now empty pots and pans ready to be rinsed off. While we were quietly washing the dishes, the music in the back changed, but still fit the ambiance perfectly. He walked to the furthest and lowest cupboard where the large serving plates used to be and opened it to now find the spices.

“You changed the plates?” He asks over his shoulder.

“Hum, yeah didn’t have much of a choice, I couldn’t reach the spices from where they were, and I don’t use the serving plates all that much.” I shrug as he picks up the utensils and dries them off. He walks around me to the drawer where they’ve always been and opens it slowly, his hand supporting underneath.

“Oh no, I got fixed, it’s fine”

“Oh okay… Did your dad came all the way from Oregon or did hum…?” He asks and I smile at what he’s really asking me.

“No, I actually asked Pat to come over a month ago, he repaired a few things here and there” I smile warmly at him and his expression that went from sad to relieved.

“You- you called my dad?” He asks as he turns around to look at me and rests against the counter.

“I mean, yeah, is that okay?” I ask him, giving him a pot to dry off.

“Of course, yeah, no- no worries, heh.” He chuckles. “I’m just happy you guys stayed in contact. They adore you, y’know, my parents. Almost like a second daughter.”

“Well that’s just wrong” I mumble quickly my eyes large, falling back into the familiarity that is Dylan.

“What why?” He asks

“That would make us “brother and sister”” I finish washing the last dish and hand it to him.

“Oh yeah, so wrong. So, fucking wrong” He says under his breath and I laugh a little as I help him put away the plates. I open a cupboard and look up to see that it is far beyond my reach and I make a noise that attracts his attention. “Oh wait, I’ll get it” He says before taking large strides towards me. I quickly move to the side and put the plate on the counter so that he can pick it up.

We finish putting everything away in silence and I go sit on the couch as he washes his hands. A few seconds later he joins me and sit on the other side of the couch. Tears pool at my eyes and I sniffle, I can feel his eyes on me, I hear him shift on the couch, so his front was towards me.

“No, I won’t talk about the weather Not with you, we’re not together But I wonder if we’re ever really through 'Cause if we’re talking about whether You and I shouldn’t be together Oh, I know I’ll always be in love with you Oh yes, I know I’ll always be in love with you”

“It hurts so much” I whimper as I wipe away a tear that’s fallen on my cheek. “I don’t know what fucking happened. We didn’t get to talk, we-“

I freeze when I feel him starting to get closer to wipe away more tears that are now falling down my neck. I nuzzle my head into his large hand.

“I’m so sorry, for everything” He says his face in my hair.

“Don’t. It is not your fault. No, the situation was not ideal you having to leave for filming after the initial event, but it is not your fault. I think we just thought we were untouchable.” I say never facing him, my eyes fixed on the stickers stuck on the wooden table.

“But still, if I hadn’t talked about me moving back to L.A we could’ve talked and work things out.”

“Stop it.” I lick my lips attracting his eyes to the area as I turn to really look at him for the first time in months. “Dylan, it is not your fault, we had a weakness, we miscommunicated something got lost in what we told each other. I feel like I might’ve thought I was ready to leave the city to go to L.A but I wasn’t and maybe-“

“Say it again.” He suddenly says, cutting me off in my version of the events.

“What? Say what?”

“Say my name again, please.” His ton is full of hope and desperate at the same time.

I lock eyes with him and chuckle.

“Dylan” I enunciate each syllable.

“God. I missed you” He says, tears filling his eyes.

He grabs me by my waist and pulls me on his lap.

His face nuzzles itself in my neck and I feel a single tear rolling down my neck followed by a few soft kisses.

“I just got used to you not being there and knowing you wouldn’t come back. I didn’t like that.” I mumble against his temple. “Don’t say that. You know I’ll always come back to you.” He takes my hand in his and kiss the silver band around my pointer finger.

We part and I just stare at him, his eyes fall on me with the softest look I have ever seen.

“You almost didn’t come back once” I say softly thinking back on probably the hardest year of my life. My finger tracing the soft and ragged scar on his forehead and nose area, his eyes close at the sensation of my finger going around his face.

“I know. But baby I swear to you, you are stuck with me until the day I die, even then.” “Yeah okay, I’d be cool with that. But I want to take things slow. You have to go back to L.A for a few months.” “As soon as I’m finished over there I’m coming home.” He smiles at me and I stand up quickly from his lap and walk over where I put my stuff when I came in. “Oh my god I forgot.” I say quickly grabbing the object and walking back to him and plopping myself hard on his lap. “What’s that?” He looks at me with a smile. “It’s an impromptu welcome home gift, it might have gone stale a little though.” I give it to him and pull his face to kiss his moles that I missed oh so badly.

He opens the brown bag and puts his hand in and gets out a blueberry muffin.

“Oh Henry! My man” He says as he splits it in two and share half with me.

___________________________________

The morning after, I wake up at 9:45 in my bed, alone. I squeeze my eyes shut, not believing that I actually dreamt this whole thing. I check my phone to see if I have any messages and only one from Julia saying that she would be at my place around 11. As I text her to bring the boxes back I hear my bedroom door open and a smile stretches on my lips as I turn around to see Dylan walking in with freshly made hot cocoa and buttered toast.

“Oh, you’re too good to me, O’Brien” I smile and lean against him as he sits on the bed. “What makes you think that’s yours? You’ve got the good homemade bread and I fucking missed it” He says taking a bite.

Seeing him bite into the grilled piece of bread I only think of his lips.

“Dylan?” I say grabbing his face in my hand. “Hmm?” He swallows his piece of toast. “What’s up.” “You haven’t kissed me yet. I didn’t get to kiss you welcome back. Please, do it” I say in the most desperate tone I’ve ever heard myself talk. “Anything for you my love” He leans in and kiss me.

(ALSO HIS FUCKING TONGUE OMF)

#Stiles Stilinski #Teen Wolf #Dylan O'brien #maze runner #death cure #scorch trials #american assasin #kisses #stalia #stydia #mieczyslaw stiles stilinski #xofc #dylan o'brien one shot #the first time #dave hoffman #dave hodgman #mitch rapp

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thecousinsdangereux · 5 years

Note

bumbleby with this as a prompt: tatsuyamashiro(.)co(.)vu/post/183085155981/the-lock-jammed-on-the-front-door-of-my-shitty Yang is the drunk neighbour Blake is the one locked out

Campaigning is hell.

Blake had long ago accepted it as a necessary evil of enacting any sort of long-term change, but after too many days like this one, full of canvassing and idiots and bigots and disappointing poll numbers, she had perfected a three step process for coping. It involved a lengthy bath, a large glass of wine, and the longest stretch of sleep anyone on the planet has experienced through conventional means.

It probably went without saying that a jammed lock on the front door of her outrageously antiquated apartment building did not fit into that process. At all.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

She wiggles the handle, gently at first, but with increasing desperation, gripping it with two hands and letting out a stupidly loud grunt, when nothing happens.

“It’s broken.”

She doesn’t immediately recognize the voice, but when she turns, she does recognize the woman, and it’s a clear sign of Blake’s single-minded focus (bath, wine, sleep) that she hadn’t noticed her sitting on the corner of the stoop earlier.

Because honestly? Normally, Blake has a hard time not looking at her new neighbor (at her bright eyes and wide smile and wildly curling hair, at her often-bare arms and curving jaw and defined legs). She’s never had more than a few conversations with the woman and her roommate (Ruby, Blake vaguely recalls), but it’s not like it’s ever taken her much time to realize someone was her type to a level that was almost insulting.

“Yeah, I — I got that.”

The woman — Yang — grins, lazy and lopsided, and twists sideways on the steps, stretching a leg out in front of her and leaning back. Blake jerks her eyes away, desperate to find a focus point other than the lift of Yang’s tank top, and finds her eyes drawn to the large glass placed just to the side of the woman. It could be soda, but the garnishes on top makes Blake think otherwise.

“I probably should’ve said something earlier, but every time we see you in the hall, you’re like, super put together or whatever. So it was kinda funny to see you go all Incredible Hulk on the door like that.” This is followed by what Blake can only assume is Yang’s Hulk impression — it involves a lot of flexing and growling and is cuter than it has any right being.

Blake blinks. “Are you drunk?”

“Tipsy,” Yang corrects, leaning further back, propping herself up on her elbow. “And you’re cute.”

The unexpectedness of it makes her laugh, short and loud, and Yang grins again, pleased with herself. For a second, Blake imagines herself returning the compliment, but Yang speaks again before she can.

“I’m Yang,” she says.

“Blake.”

“I know. I remember.” She lets her head roll back, as though it’ll help her get a better look at Blake, still several steps above her. “Blake the activist. We’ve seen your posters and stickers and stuff. That’s cute too. Or — ” Yang’s lips twist. “Wait, that makes me sound like a condescending jackass. Um, that’s cool, I mean. Like, that you’re actually doing something about the stuff that pisses you off.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes it’s a lot like this door.” She turns back to it, wiggles the key around a little more.

“Broken as fuck?” Yang asks.

“Frustrating,” Blake corrects, feeling the corner of her lips quirk upwards in amusement. “But that too.”

“Well, that makes it even more badass, right? ‘Cause it sucks sometimes. Or a lot of the time. But you’re doing it anyways.”

The words have more impact than they should, maybe, coming from a girl she hardly knows, who’s drunk and sitting outside their busted apartment building, but Blake figures after the day she’s had, she deserves the surge of pleasure they bring.

“Um. Thanks, Yang.”

“I know what’s up,” she returns with a sage nod. “Full of wisdom, or something.”

Turning once more to look down the steps, Blake laughs. “Uh huh. So what’s all that wisdom telling you about this door? Any hints?”

Yang considers this, brow pinching, for a long moment.

“You should kick it.”

“Kick it.”

“Yeah. Try — try kicking it. Really hard.”

Blake stares at her. Yang, unblinking, stares back.

Well. It’s not like worse ideas didn’t exist.

Leaning forward onto one foot, Blake brings her knee in, twisting, and snaps it back, flat of her foot connecting with the door with a loud thud.

No effect. (Outside of a slight stinging sensation in her foot.) Of course.

She looks at Yang and shrugs, but Yang just continues to stare, perhaps a bit more wide-eyed than before.

“Oh, uh. That was — more torque. Than I expected. You’ve got a surprising — uh — torque to size ratio.”

Another surprised laugh. And, weirdly, a blush. “What?”

“Just, I mean, if I was that door, I would’ve opened like, out of respect for a kick like that.” Her smile returns. If Blake didn’t know better, she might call it a little lovestruck. “Damn, Blake, we should go to the gym together sometime. Or go anywhere. Sometime. ‘Cause this is fun, being stuck out here together, watching you kick down a door like some kind of SWAT Team Lady or whatever.”

“I — I didn’t kick it down,” Blake returns, unsure how else she can possibly respond.

Yang waves her hand, unconcerned. “Eh. Almost. But if that didn’t do it, nothing will.” She pats the stoop next to her. “Come on. I’ll share my rum and coke.”

“That’s… a very big rum and coke.”

“Which is why I can share.”

Blake pauses, but only for a moment. Yang slides her leg back around, sitting up and making room for Blake to sit down right next to her, which she does, closer than she means to. Or maybe that’s Yang, scooting towards her before she fully lowers herself down on the step.

Whatever the cause, the result is the same, and Blake can’t say she minds, not when Yang smiles at her, crooked and cute, and offers her drink. Taking a sip, Blake realizes it’s mostly rum, which checks out.

“So this is the plan? Sit and drink and wait for someone else to figure out the lock?”

“I mean.” Yang shrugs. “That’s what I was doing before you got here. And I was rewarded pretty well, I gotta say.”

“Yang,” Blake begins, amused. “The door’s still shut.”

“Well, yeah, but now I’ve got you for company. I’ll take that over getting back into the apartment any day.” She nudges Blake, shoulders brushing together, and takes her glass back, fingers sliding against either with the sort same effect.

(A jolt. It’s stupid, but Blake thinks she might feel a jolt.)

“I guess I can think of worse ways to spend a night.”

—

Ruby finds them a while later. By that time, Blake not only knows that Ruby is Yang’s sister, but also that her favorite color is red and she’s a mechanical engineering student and Yang loves her more than Blake’s ever seen anyone love anyone else ever, maybe. She also knows that Yang is hot and sweet and someone that Blake is definitely going to go somewhere with, sometime.

“Yang! I’m so sorry! Someone let Nora have a lighter and she started setting drinks on fire and then the fire alarm went off and Weiss got up on the bad chair to try to wave the smoke away and it tipped over and I had to catch her and we didn’t realize you were — ”

Ruby stops, hanging off the door she’d somehow finagled open, and stares down at them.

“ — Finally talking to the neighbor you’ve had a crush on since we moved in here,” Ruby finishes. “Okay! The door isn’t stuck any more so you can come up whenever you’re ready!”

She vanishes behind the door, only to reappear a second later.

“Nice to see you again, Blake!”

Blake waits, making sure she’s actually gone this time, before turning to Yang.

“A crush, huh?”

Yang doesn’t blush, and she doesn’t hesitate.

“Huge crush. Embarrassingly huge. Even my friends know.” That same grin returns, this time with a touch of earnestness, and Yang offers her hand. “Wanna meet them? And get dinner this Friday night?”

Blake takes it and stands, pulling Yang with her and wearing an earnest sort of smile of her own.

“Yes. And yes.”

—

Over the years, Blake had perfected a three step process for alleviating stress: a lengthy bath, a large glass of wine, and the longest stretch of sleep anyone on the planet has experienced through conventional means.

But after an hour outside with Yang, she thinks maybe she can narrow those three steps down to one.

(She looks forward to putting the theory to test.)

#Anonymous #this prompt was cute as helllll bless you anon #bumbleby #rwby #writing #prompt madness!

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winchester-with-wings · 5 years

Text

Best $20 Ever Spent (Peter Parker x Reader)

Requested on Tumblr by @book-loving--anime-chick with the prompts:

Catch me if you can!

Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night

Give it back!

Word Count: 1500ish

Summary: You and Peter work at the local movie theater but sometimes have a little too much fun so you don't get scheduled together very often.

Posted this on my Patreon back on the 15th! If you want teasers and early access to my fanfics, consider becoming a Patron! I have 3 tiers at 3, 5, and 10

The managers were seriously considering no longer scheduling you two together.

Even if you asked to work on a Wednesday night for a completely different reason, they were inclined to reject it.

“Peter works that night.”

“So?”

“You distract him from his work,” they’d say.

Sure, you two were best friends and had fun working at the local movie theater but you didn’t really see it that way. The closing duties always got done properly. What does it matter if you had a few laughs and breaks to talk while doing it?

Maybe they saw something you didn’t? Maybe they were listening to you and your best friend Cali gossip about the crew and the rumors about who had crushes on who. You’d hoped that the managers were smart enough to keep the gossip to themselves too. Hopefully, they wouldn’t tell Peter that you had a crush on him.

No. If anything, they were inclined to keep you apart for efficiency. They had to do that with a lot of people too, schedule those who work best together and those that don’t get along or perhaps get along too well…

But they hadn’t officially said no to you and Peter working together all the time. If they had, they wouldn’t have allowed Peter to swap shifts with Ned on Sunday night.

Peter was a tease. He loved riling you up and messing with you. His proudest accomplishment was hiding in an auditorium, waiting in the dark for a solid 5 minutes until he could jump out and scare you. The boy was actually laying on the carpeted ground hiding behind the reclining chairs!

This is probably the perfect example of how you two didn’t work well together.

He probably should’ve been somewhere else doing his job but instead he’d disappeared and gone radio silent, the managers were literally calling for him over the radio and he wasn’t answering.

You were actually doing your job! Ushering the auditorium and picking up trash.

“Y/N!” He jumps out and shouts your name.

“AHH! Peter!” You shout right back at him, throwing an empty cup at his face before collapsing to the ground and covering your face. Your fight or flight complex was actually fight, flight, or fall. “Peter!” You squeal rolling on the ground and laughing. “You almost scared the pee out of me!” Peter hops over the reclining chairs with ease and tries to help you up.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps between his own laughing.

“No, you’re not.”

“You should’ve seen your face!” His laughing is renewed while you get back to work, finishing the auditorium. He’s kind--or perhaps guilty enough--that he helps you by wiping down the recliners.

Later in your shift, you’re texting Cali and telling her about Peter’s latest shenanigans.

“I think he likes you,” she suggests for the thousandth time.

“Nooo he’s just a pain in the ass. He annoys everyone. He’s like that with everyone. It has nothing to do with me,” you respond.

“Don’t put yourself down like that! I really think Peter likes you! You should tell him how you feel!”

“I can’t tell Peter that I like him like that! Then it really will be impossible to work with him. It’ll make it hard to work here and then I’ll have to quit…”

In his typical, annoying fashion, Peter grabs your phone the moment you’re about to set it down. No one’s phone is safe around him. But you hadn’t locked your phone in time either!

“Pete! No!”

“Give it back Peter,” the manager says from their position at Guest Services. He doesn’t listen to them. It was all part of the routine.

“Whoya textin?” he asks, getting ready to scroll through your messages. “Cali?”

“No! Peter, give it back!”

It’s probably a good thing that the theater is absolutely dead on a Sunday night.

“Who does Cali have a crush on? You guys talking about boys?” He wiggles his shoulders and smirks at you. You lunge at him, trying to get your phone back. He dodges you.

“Catch me if you can!”

You engage in a game of cat and mouse running around the theater lobby. He holds it high above his head. You can’t reach it. You pinch his sides and he giggles. Catching him off balance, you two become tangled on the floor in front of your coworkers and manager. Everyone seems to be getting a laugh out of it, including the two of you. But the fact that he still has your phone unlocked and is still trying to read your text messages has your heart racing for a completely different reason. He can’t see those texts! He can’t find out like this!

A guest walks up to box office. You coworker goes back to their position. The manager leaves guest services to come mediate and separate the two of you before making a scene in front of the customers.

“Peter, give it back,” the manager says in their authoritative tone. The managers are usually fun and happy but they’re willing to lay down the law when things get out of hand. Just in time too. Peter scrolls for .5 seconds and then hands over your phone. You lock it right away but you also have no idea what he’s seen.

Your shift ends at midnight. The rest of the night was nice and uneventful with less hijinks from Peter but still fun conversations about friends, school, and summer plans.

Peter has your number. You text quite often too. But never at 2 am when you’re both so obviously tired from working late.

Your phone screen lights up and the vibrations of it on your nightstand wakes you up.

“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever spent $20 on?”

“Well hello to you too,” you text back.

“...” He actually took the time to send those three dots. “So what is it? Or better yet, what’s the best $20 you ever spent?”

“Uh...my iridescent hombre metal water bottle…” It’s probably not the right answer but it’s all you can think of. You and Cali both bought one on a day off at the mall and kept getting them mixed up so they have stickers on them now to tell them apart. “Now stop texting me weird things so late at night. Lol.”

“Don’t you wanna know my answer?”

“Uh sure.”

“Tonight.”

“??”

“I paid Ned $20 to swap shifts with me so I could work with you.”

That stumps you. What does that mean? Why would he do that? Yeah, you guys had fun working together but you could hang outside of work too. You saw each other at school too. So...why would he do that?

“Lol wtf why?” you send that after realizing you’d left him on “read” for about two minutes when normally you guys respond within seconds.

“Because I wanted to work with you tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to see you…”

“Why?”

Then your phone rings. It scares you. Enough that you drop your phone on your face.

“Hello?” you whisper, rubbing your nose. You fluff up your pillow so you’re sitting up in bed, fully awake now. It’s quiet on the other end. “Peter, I swear to god if you’re outside my window and are going to scare me, please don’t,” you beg. You chuckle when you finally hear Peter on the other end chuckling too. “Why are you calling me? What is this all about?”

“Y/N,” he says you name.

“Peter?” you say his name with the intent to make it sound awkward.

“What if I told you that I liked you?”

“Wh--” he cuts you off.

“That I bribed Ned to switch shifts with me so that I could work with you. So I could see you. So I could spend time with you. Because I…” he sighs, “because I like you, ya’know, like that?”

“Um...Peter…” you’re pretty sure your heart has stopped. You’re praying this isn’t one of his pranks. Peter is an annoying dweeb but he wouldn’t do that, right? That’d just be cruel.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Um...I might’ve read your texts to Cali.”

“Oh.”

“Do you really like me?” he asks. You don’t answer him right away, making him stew in the uncomfortable silence. “Y/N?”

“I mean, yeah, Pete. I like you. We’re friends.”

“But do you like me? Like enough to date me?”

“Oh um...yeah...I guess.” Peter sighs. Relieved? Happy? You’re not sure. Peter chuckles. You can imagine him running his fingers through his curly brown hair, the same way he does it when he finds that he’s passed a spanish test.

“So,” he sounds smug all of the sudden like he’s smirking at the phone. “Do you wanna go out sometime?”

“Pretty sure I just answered that.”

“But I wanna hear you say it,” Peter teases. You roll your eyes.

“Yes, Peter, I would like to go out with you. But first you have to answer one question.”

“Shoot.”

“How long have you liked me?”

“Oh, yeah...um...it’s gonna sound bad. But, uh, I kinda called dibs the first day you ever worked at the theater. And I’ve been bribing Ned for shifts every couple of weeks too.”

“Oh my god,” you giggle.

“Yeah, pretty silly huh?”

“No. It makes sense. But you know...once we’re dating, management is definitely not going to let us work together anymore.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to go on a bunch of dates.”

tagging: @faithtrustandpixiedust95 @thinkwritexpress-official @autoblocked @book-loving--anime-chick @abbessolute @overlyobsethed @bookworm4ever99 @whoopxd @therealcap @geeksareunique @potterwolf16 @frankie2902 @ravenhaviland @starksparker @gracehappyfeet @softdudebro @blckthrns

#Peter Parker #Peter Parker x Reader #Peter x Reader #Tom Holland #Spider-man #Marvel #Marvel fanfic #my writing #Fluff #Peter Parker imagine #marvel imagine

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setaripendragon · 5 years

Text

So I’m just... sitting in a weird creative rut at the moment. Like, I’ve got all these half-baked ideas that aren’t going anywhere so I can’t write them, so I can’t get them out of my system so I can’t come up with any more solid ideas. I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a room and someone’s just dropped three crates of interesting knick-knacks on the floor. Like, this is all so colourful and shiny, but... there’s so much? and they’re all so tiny? what do you want me to do with these???

SO. This is me venting. (And also throwing fic recs out into the void because I need someone to scream with about Supernatural, none of my irl friends have watched more than a few episodes.)

I got back into the Supernatural fandom recently, and I’m... god, it feels like heresy to even say it, bored with Destiel. Like, I still love them, I’m still eagerly awaiting Cas’s debut in my rewatch, but I’m also, like, looking at these thousands on thousands of fics about them, and I feel like... ‘yes? I know? God, I know these two are fucking soulmates?’ It’s how I usually get about canon pairings (that I like, anyway), actually. I just... don’t get invested (so much) in the fanfiction because, well, obviously.

On the other hand, I could really, really do with some good Dean/Cas/Gabe fics that aren’t The Nature and Kynde of a Lyon, or Frate, non far: ché tu se' ombra, e ombra vedi. (If anyone has an recs, send them my way, please, god.) I love that OT3 like you wouldn’t believe. (I should rewrite their entry for my OT3 drabbles series, cause I didn’t do them justice at all)

I want to write my own story about them. I want to write a fic where Gabe helps Dean deal with the trauma of Hell, where Gabe and Cas circle each other so, so carefully because Gabriel’s afraid of caring too much and then losing and Cas has ages old abandonment issues to deal with, I want to write Gabe shoving Dean and Cas’s heads together and being all ‘now kiss’, and Cas telling Dean and Gabe repeatedly that they are ‘very much alike’ when they each observe how much he cares about the other, and Dean being all insecure and bitchy because Gabe and Cas can relate to each other on a level he could never, and both of them having to come together to reassure him that, no, really, it’s not right without him.

I also really really really want Crobby-centric fics. It’s so hard to find them on Ao3 because it’s usually a side pairing to Destiel. And... it’s not like I don’t ship Destiel. I still love it. So I can’t just ‘exclude Destiel’ because... because then I wind up with side-pairings I don’t like? I just... I wish Ao3 had a ‘main pairing’ tag category, and a ‘side pairing‘ tage category, because what I really want is main pairing Crobby with a side of Destiel. I only have one Crobby fic rec, and that’s A Handful of Dirt.

I want to write a fic where Bobby and Crowley end up being really domestic together, and like, six months in, Bobby’s just like ‘lightbulb’ and then ‘damn, I can’t believe we coulda been having sex this entire time’. And then I want to write a Dean PoV Crobby centric fic where Dean has to face his internalised homophobia because of the Crobby, and has his own queer crisis, and Bobby is a Good Dad and the big emotional climax is Dean and Bobby having a chat (stilted and gruff because that’s just how they are) about it all, and Dean just... can’t say it out loud because he’s got John fucking Winchester’s predictable reaction in his head, and Bobby just claps him on the shoulder, gives him a little shake and is like ‘it’s alright, y’idjit’

(And in the epilogue Crowley surreptitiously slaps a ‘Not gay as in happy, but Queer as in FUCK YOU!’ bumper sticker on the Impala and Dean throws an epic shit fit and figures out it was Crowley and yells at him ‘you don’t go fucking defacing someone else’s fucking car, you hellspawn!’ and Crowley holds up his hands all ‘alright, alright, I’ll take it right off’ and Dean glowers at him and snaps ‘don’t you fucking dare’, because, hey, he does like the sentiment. It feels like something that fits him and his life more than cutesy little flags and all those weird-ass labels Sammy likes to throw around like the nerd he is.)

I so, so badly want to write (or read) a modern AU fic where Dean, Benny, and Charlie are Queer BFFs together. (Benny is Ace, fight me.) Maybe even a Leverage AU? Charlie is obviously the hacker, Benny’s the hitter, Dean’s the thief. (Bela is Charlie’s girlfriend, who they call when they need a grifter.)

Which reminds me, I need to go look for some Charlie/Bela, because I ship that so hard, you have no idea. I love them to pieces individually, they’d be so amazing together.

I also really want to write a fic where Dean and Sam get punted somehow into an alternate universe where everything is just... WEIRD. Like, a verse where the Men of Letters were still a thing, maybe even where John was one? Where John and Mary didn’t die, but got divorced, and it was messy and traumatic, and Dean has to confront the fact that the idyllic apple-pie childhood he remembers was a four-year-old’s rose-tinted recollection, not the truth. (I want Dean, Benny, and Charlie to be BFFs in that world, too.)

And Sam is married to Princess Mia, because I know it’s a crackship, okay, I know it was a fucking stupid ass joke on this stupid ass hellsite, but god do I ship it so hard. They have so much in common. They’re both ‘normal’ kids who got saddled with a ‘special destiny’ at birth (or close enough), which comes with a hell of a lot of responsibility (and a few perks), who keep trying to hold onto their freedom, and are actually super soft decent people who just wanna be happy and loved. (I am so very torn on whether I prefer it if it’s a literal world-merge and Sam is marrying actual European royalty, or if it’s an AU where instead of ‘surprise you’re a princess’ Mia gets ‘surprise you’re from a family of epic hunters’ (Julie Andrews as a badass hunter matriarch? Yes please.))

And I really, really want next gen shenanigans. Ben, and Claire, and Krissy, and Jesse, and Patience, and Jacob, and hell, even Lucas. (Instead of that weird ass ‘we’re being inclusive look women’ spin-off they tried to pitch) I want Ben and Claire bonding as not!sibling because their not!dads are totally gay for each other and being stupid about it. I want Ben and Claire getting into petty fights about who Krissy likes more because they both took one look at her and got massive life-ruining crushes on her. I want Claire and Jesse being BFFs, and Ben and Patience.

I may make a seperate post about the series I want to write about these kids. (It will be an epic post-season-8 fix it. Maybe I should turn it into an original series...)

I want to write a psychic wolves AU. I want to write a Daemon AU. I (do not) want to try and figure out a Hogwarts AU. I’m remembering my old crossover with Charmed that I had planned (doesn’t Patience just give you Charmed vibes?). I want to write time-travel. I want to write time-travel OT3 with Mia/Sam/Jess. I want to write time-travel where the next gen end up zapping themselves into the past for some reason.

God, wouldn’t that be fun? The kids trying to deal with teenage Dean and Sam? (I give it three minutes in the man’s presence before Jacob tries to eat John’s brains.) Or even have them older, and land just before the start of the series?

As you can see, I’ve got all these ideas, but there’s no real substance to them? Nothing that goes ‘yes that’s a story I can tell’ just... premises and moments and nothing really coherent.

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franeridart · 6 years

Note

Hi! Idk if you read fanfic, but would you happen to have any kiribaku fic recs? Or any bnha fic rec?

I’m pretty sure there’s stuff tagged as fic recs on this blog, yes! Nothing particularly new tho, I haven’t had the time to put down a new rec-list in a while ;-;

Anon said:How long does it take you to finish a drawing with and without color?

That honestly depends on a lot of factors - which tools I’m using, how many characters there are in the drawing/if it’s full body or not, how used to drawing the character I am, how big is the canvas, if I already have a clear idea of what I mean to draw or not, how precise I want to be with lines and stuff.

That Yuuto sketch I posted yesterday took me about 40 minutes I think, and over half of it was spent trying to figure out how I was supposed to draw him since it was the first time I drew him - the tools I used are the ones I use when I want to be fast and don’t care about being sloppy. A small random Kirishima bust properly lined and colored could take me five minutes to sketch and line and as many to color on a good day, cause I’ve drawn him so many times by now I don’t even have to think to draw him. Deku, on the other hand, can take me an hour even just to sketch, I can’t seem to grasp how I’m supposed to draw him at all.

Sorry, it really depends on a lot of things, I can’t give a proper answer to this :(

Anon said:Ive been tryin to find ur art of sero carrying baku for like 20 minutes n i cant find it :(

Are you talking about this one? Or this one? There’s also this one I guess...? And maybe this one lol

Anon said:yoooo, hey man, that cat kiribaku thing ya got going on is some 👌👌👌👌👌

HECK THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Has anyone ever considered Hadmie. Hadou x Camie before?? It just seems like it'd be a cute ship to sail with, tbh. That just might be me tho.

I dunno if anyone has before you, but I can’t say I have, sorry! If I gotta ship Nejire with someone after all it’s gonna be Yuyu haha

Anon said:Hey do you do commissions? I really love your art and I'd love to get a commission from you!! (and also I just wanna know if there's yet another thing that I have to save up for XD)

Not right now, sorry! Maybe after I’m done with the zine things!!

Anon said:*runs around like an excited puppy* DAVEDAVEDAVEDAVEDAVEDAVEDAVE!!!!!!! :D

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D

Anon said:AHHH i love your ocs so much also Nico looks so cute and i love learning new things about them

AAAHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH OH MY G O D!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:KIRI + PINEAPPLE PONYTAIL = THE BEST THING EVER

I’M GLAD WE AGREE ON THAT

Anon said:your oc's literally kill me!! i already love nico, and i think i speak for everyone when i say that we definitely want more of him and luca!! i don't know if it's just me, but I love when the angry, swearing types fall for someone.

SOB thank you so so much for the kind words about my kids ;^;

Anon said:OH MY GOD LUCA IS BACK!!!! YESSSSSSSS FUCKING KILL ME THIS IS A BLESSED DAY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. MORE OF YOUR OC'S!!! (only when you want to share of course, I'm just trying to convey my enthusiasm here. not demanding at all ^^)

I think that might happen soon enough, actually!!!! Thank you so much for the interest in them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Are josh and chris still not dating?

Sadly until I’ll sit down to write their story that specific part of it won’t go anywhere :( Chris gotta deal with a bunch of things before he’ll be ready to put a name to what’s between him and Josh 3 one day I’ll let him work through it !!!

Anon said:I'm so paranoid I'm going to repost one of your post by accident but the thing is is I never even repost anything at all but just because I know you don't want them to be I'm so scared that by accident I'm going to have something screenshotted and forget it's yours and like Ugh😂

Well, my name’s written on all my drawing so I doubt you’ll forget it’s my stuff lol to make sure you’re not reposting anything the author doesn’t want reposted you can always just ask before reposting it, tho~

Anon said:I was just scrolling through your OC stuff and I just. Love them so much. Thank you for the babies ❤

GOD THANK YOU ;O;

Anon said:Okay I've never seen your oc's before and Dave is the cutest green boy I love him

AAAAHHHHHH I’M GLAD!!!!!

Anon said:kamijirou getting together? :3 also if there were ever a scenario where jirou would confess first, what do you think she would be thinking?

I actually have half a thing planned for that :0 gimme a while to get around to drawing it!

Anon said:How do you feel imagine kiri’s parents???

Actually since I’m still hoping one day Hori will give us the official versions I try not to think too much about it! I don’t wanna grow attached just to have to give them up once I’ll have the canon versions haha

Anon said:hey quick innocent question ive been following for a long time and saw a lot of your art do you have a thing for feet

Are you asking because I draw a lot of people barefoot? Feet are just easier and faster to draw than shoes, anon

Anon said:I love how you answer asks all at once. It’s nice to see that you’re getting in bulk appreciation

THANKS I honestly just don’t want my blog to be more asks than art, so I let them pile up before answering - it does mean I make people wait a lot for answers tho orz sorry

Anon said:I LOVE YOUR ART

THANK YOU!!!!

Anon said:You've open a sea of possibilities with red pineapple kirishima. You're a legend :prayeremoji:

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wouldn’t call myself that but I’m glad you appreciate him too hahaha

Anon said:i cant help but notice nothings been added to your sero tag in 4 months

That might be because I rarely use single characters tags! Try looking under #bakusquad and #seromina :D

Anon said:Hahaaa hi this is probably really really awkward but I just wanted you to let you know that you're super awesome!! And the fact that your art is something that I can look forward to is absolutely amazing (no pressure tho)!!! So yea, thank you for being cool and creating beautiful art~~ :D ✧✧✧

SOB it’s not awkward at all!!!! thank you SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Would you mind adding some more Tokoyami art to your shop? More specifically the pieces where hes hanging out with Kiri, and the Tokoshoji piece :D Im desperate to bury my notebooks in stickers from your shop rn and the bird boy needs more love ❤

AHW I’m sorry anon, but those are definitely too small to be of any use on the shop ;-; if you’re okay with it I could add the last one I posted? I should seriously draw more of him..................

Anon said:That jacket that Kirishima has on...I NEED!

I drew it and that’s still a mood t b h

Anon said:I went so far back in your blog that it kicked me back to the beginning ;-; I was just getting to the D. Greyman stuff too

AW ;-; (..........it’s good tho, the further you go the least worth it my stuff is l m a o)

Anon said:Do you ever draw kiribaku or something else in paper or some kind of sketch book if you do i would love to see them❤(sorry if my english is bad)

I do have some doodles on paper posted on here somewhere? But tbh I rarely draw traditionally anymore unless it’s just random doodles :(

Anon said:Aahhh!!! I really love your kiribaku shit its so cute!!and you draw so goood too literally when i found this ship i instantly found you and you are so perfect in my eyes and your art!!!!! I looooooovvvvvvveeeeee yoooouuuuuu thank you for being here and showing us this stuff!!❤❤❤❤

HECK thank you!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:i adore your art so much and your bakushima comics make me smile a lot! :) you’re one of my favorite artists now dldksjshskdk

tHANK YOU OH MY G OD ;^;

Anon said:Consider this: fantasy Kirishima meeting normal bakugou, thinking that's his Katsuki 😂😂

.........................you literally got no clue how long I’ve been thinkin about drawing this............ he ck

Anon said:Your drawings give me life 😍❤️

sob thank you so so so much ;-;

#fran answers #in other news ive drawn more seros carrying bakugous than i expected #HM #anonymous

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the-last-airbadger · 5 years

Text

My 2018

It’s time for my annual evening of reflection everybody! The moment you’ve all been waiting for! It feels kinda weird to make a post like this because I feel like I haven’t done this kind of thing in ages, but it’s tradition and I like making these, so I’ve got last year’s post right with me and I’m ready for some reflection!

The Beginning of 2018 vs. Now Honestly, I don’t really remember much from the beginning of the year? I just know that I was working as a postman back then and that’s basically all I did during that period. It was cold outside, I disliked my job and I was unsure of which subject to pick to study in university. I also had some pretty bad dysphoria days around like... march? I don’t really remember. It wasn’t all bad though, I already felt a lot better than the year before and I was optimistic that it would get even better in the future.

Best things about 2018 The very best thing to happen this year was my top-surgery. I’d been waiting for the moment I got my surgery for more than 2 years and the dysphoria became increasingly harder to deal with. On top of that I was constantly scared that something would happen that would cancel or delay my surgery. Not being able to get surgery was my #1 fear. Now, I finally can put that all behind me. I’m not fully healed yet, I still need to wear stickers to make my scars less visible, but I haven’t felt any dysphoria since my surgery. I’ve honestly never been this happy with my body. I’m still not perfect and still waiting for some testosterone changes (hurry up beard) but apart from that I am actually.... done... with my transition... whoah

The second best thing of the year was starting university. I honestly love going to school everyday, and I’ve already made a lot of new friends. I even don’t hate doing the homework, and I’m actually motivated to work hard and succeed. University has made my life so much better and I honestly haven’t been this happy since 2015. Bless uni.

Another thing that comes to mind (or things, really) is all the people I saw live this year. I saw Paramore in january, Markiplier in feburary, Evanescence in march, Dan and Phil, Ed Sheeran AND Queen in june, Jacksepticeye (for the second time) in October and Maria Mena (also for the second time) in December and every single one of those events was amazing. I crossed a lot of things of my bucketlist this year haha. Now all I need is to see my favourite kpop groups live (but I’m going to Day6 next month so I have high expectations)

There were more good things this year but they were mostly minor things. SHINee released some amazing music, LOONA debuted, I got into Stray Kids and Seventeen, discovered lots of great music, I (finally) quit my acting class after nailing the main part in our last performance, and I got my driver’s licence. I started driving lessons is Feburary, then had my first exam in june, failed it, took a small break, started again in october and finally got my licence in november. I hated those lessons with all my heart and they really depressed me, so when I finally passed and got my licence, I threw the biggest party lmao

My resolutions for 2018? So here it is, the moment of truth. I don’t even remember last years resolutions and I purposely didn’t look them up so this would all be a fresh new surprise. I always love looking back at these. That’s like 90% of the fun of making them

finally decide what to study - I’m studying English language and literature in Leiden right now and I have tests next week haha

Get Top-Surgery - Did That. Hell yeah

Write at least 100 pages of a story - I have written a little more than the previous year, but I still don’t think it’s more than 10 pages... that’s dissappointing.

Accomplish my reading challenge on goodreads - ...another fail. But! I read 24/35 books this year and that’s already 2 more than last year so there’s progress. We’ll get there eventually.

Start University - You already know the answer to that

Make new friends - Did that too! I’ve got a group of friends from university and they’re awesome

Quit my acting classes - Another success!

Learn how to drive - Even got my license ;)

Improve my drawing skills (maybe make a comic?) - Hmm I didn’t really draw much this year, and I definately didn’t make a comic, but I still think my art has improved slightly so that’s kind of a win?

Reach 300 followers on tumblr - BOI. DEFINATELY DID THAT. I’ve got 812 followers as I’m typing this right now.

Get more than 20 subs on Youtube and consistently create content for my channel - I’ve got 27 subs right now, and I’ve posted every single week. I was only late like once or twice in a whole year. I think I can call that a success.

Learn Divenire on the Piano - Ouch... still only know half the song. That’s a failure.

Dye my hair - Sadly, didn’t do that either. Hopefully next year

Continue to shower every day - I think I only skipped like 5 days in total so I’d call that a success too.

Start working out/exercising regularly - ...fail

Get new glasses - Success!

Expectations for 2019 Oh, I haven’t really thought about this. I kinda just expect a year of going to university and living an average but calm year. I know I’ll have 3 weeks off in january, in which I plan on reading a lot of books and just chill. I’ll also go and see Day6 live in january (I’m so excited holy shit), and then in febuary my mom will move, so I’ll get a new house. Then I’ll probably pass my first year at university and start my second year. And that’s about it. Oh, and I’ll probably go on holiday to Sweden in the summer, but there isn’t much else I expect. I just expect a chill and happy year to be honest. It would also be great if I got a boyfriend/girlfriend but that’s more a wish than an expectation lol

2019 Resolutions?

Dye my hair (let’s give that another go shall we)\

Get a good haircut

Get a tattoo

Move out of my parent’s house (that’s a bold one)

Accomplish my reading challenge on Goodreads (I really want to accomplish that 35 books goal, it’s starting to haunt me)

Get tickets for A.C.E.’s concert

Get swol

Communicate more with the people around me

Don’t let other people’s opinions shape my actions

Pass my first year at uni

Go swimming (I haven’t done that in 3 years)

Grow a beard (plz universe)

Learn how to make flipbooks (it looks really cool)

Learn how to knit (I really wanna make my own sweaters)

Read books on storytelling and learn more about how to tell a story

Develop my story more

Write at least 100 pages

Spend more time with my friends, both new friends and old friends

I think that’s it for this evening. I hope this was somewhat enjoyable to read, and I wish all of you an amazing and happy 2019!

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magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics · 6 years

Text

Better Man - Request

Requested by anon: Hi could you maybe do dean x reader based on the song better man from little big town, if you know the song.

Pairing: Dean x Reader.

Word count: 2.089

Warnings: Angsty-ish, un-beta’d (idk how to spell that...)

A/N: It’s been a LOOOOONG time since the last time I watched Supernatural (like a almost a year) so I’m rusty. Also, I used a similar format to my fic Beneath the Surface (Sherlock). This is quite abrupt, but that’s just how I see these things so... Yeah.

Now, still going on with the Abusive Relationship issues: Physical violence isn’t the only kind of violence, even using degrading words, or harmful comments is a type of violence. Be brave, run from them.

Speak up, be loud and make yourself heard. You are not alone.

Enjoy!

To Dean, the lonely bunker felt like paradise after being stuck in the middle of nowhere during the hottest day of the year. His precious car had overheated, and no matter how much he tried to fix it quickly, he still got sunburnt. He couldn’t ask for help, his phone had died and Sam was out of town.

Then, he went to the store, which had been his destiny from the beginning, only to find that beer was sold out. He tried in five other stores, only to find the same result and, when he left the fifth store, he found his Impala covered in eggs and remains from water balloons, which only made the mess bigger.

By the time he got to the bunker, he was done with life.

He was about to open the door when bird poop fell from the nearest tree. Dean was so mad by then that he didn’t hesitate in shooting the guilty pigeon, which fell over his car, adding feathers and blood to the already scrambled windshield.

The poor man wasn’t even impressed, it clearly wasn’t his day.

He got inside the bunker, and walked straight to the laundry room to leave his shirt on the washer. The heat was such that the rest of his clothes were covered in sweat, and thus he decided to wash his whole outfit.

Sam wasn't’t there, so it didn’t matter if he was naked or not. So, he walked to the kitchen, praying that there would be at least one can of beer - but there were only three bottles of a green water Sam enjoyed drinking.

“For fuck’s sake!” Dean roared and punched the fridge, knowing Sam would be extra angry when he saw the damage his brother was causing to the appliance.

Dean took an ice cube, as a desperate attempt to lower down his temperature, and then walked to his room. He started to charge his phone and then checked the others to see if he had any message.

One of them did.

Letting the ice drop on his bed sheets - something he would regret later that night - he played the message. His hopes were high, that phone was old and only certain people had the number to it.

“Hey dude, it’s Sam,” his younger brother spoke, “I forgot to tell you, I went to the post office before leaving town. There’s something you may wanna read, I left it under your bed, it’s a cardbox. Take it easy when you read it, we don’t have enough money to buy another fridge.”

“Is that your brother?” A female voice spoke from the distance. Dean smirked, thinking the worst.

“Yes,” Sam answered, “Anyway, I’ll be back soon. Have a nice birthday, Jerk.”

“Bitch…” Dean whispered and left the phone aside.

He knelt next to the bed and dragged out a tiny card box. It only had a sticker with the address to which it would be sent, and nothing else. No names, no details, no nothing.

Dean shook it softly, but could only hear inanimate, innocent object being shaken. He then placed it on the floor and opened it carefully, in case it was something dangerous.

The first thing he saw was a picture of him giving a girl a piggyback ride. He must’ve been on his twenties, and he was glowing; his hair was shorter and lighter, his skin was perfect without wrinkles or sun-stains, and his smile was huge.

He recognized the girl from the picture. She was the only one, his one and only love, but she was also the one to rip his heart apart. Nothing had been more painful than her departure, and it still hurt him.

“Yeah, happy birthday to me.”

He kicked the box under the bed and walked to the shower. He was trying to wash of her memory, but it felt impossible. She was still out there, and she had kept that picture for almost twenty years…

Dean remained in the shower until he ran out of hot water which, until then, had seemed to be something impossible to achieve.

He left the shower and walked back to his bed. The ice from before had melted completely, leaving a big puddle in the middle of the bed. Dean ignored it and took his phone; he had thirteen missed phone calls from Castiel and only one voice mail.

“Dean,” the angel said, “I tried to visit you but you were washing. Happy anniversary on Earth…”

“Try again,” Crowley spoke, mocking Castiel.

“Happy anniversary of birth,” Castiel repeated, “Let’s get wasted, pal.”

“That’ll do,” The demon said and then Dean could hear the two of them fighting over the phone. “Happy birthday, squirrel,” And then complete silence.

He tried to drag his mind out of his loneliness, playing music out loud, eating everything on the refrigerator, and, why not, destroying a whole room on his own. But nothing could take his mind away from the real issue.

Dean gave up.

He dragged his feet all the way back to his bedroom and took out the box once again. He held the picture to his eye level and, because of the lamp on his room, he noticed there was something scribbled behind it.

In red ink was an inscription that read: “Summer with the love of my life” next to a drawn heart. He recognized her hand-writing.

“Yeah, right,” Dean muttered to himself and put the picture away.

There were other objects, like the ticket from a contest they never won, or the deflated balloon that Dean had gifted her on their first date. There were a couple folded napkins that had doodles on them in two different inks - something they would do when they waiters took too long - and some other pictures of the two together. Dean remembered each day perfectly, they felt like yesterday to him.

He was starting to get sensible, in a good way, thinking that maybe she remembered him and missed him as much as he did, imagining that was her way of asking him to get back to her, but his heart broke again.

There was a ring inside the box, under all of the pictures and tiny objects, an engagement ring.

Dean had gifted her that ring the same day she left, promising her to become a better man and a life full of love, adventures and dreams. He never knew why she left after that, but by the time he woke up, she was gone.

He held the ring once again, remembering how much time it took him to pick out the right ring for her and his nerves when asking her to marry him. He remembered the strange look on her face, and how numb her voice was when she said yes.

There was a white envelope at the very bottom of the cardbox. His name was written there with a more mature handwriting; a handwriting that, no matter how mature, was still hers.

He kept the ring next to him and took the letter out. The letter inside had a yellowish sheet of paper, and her old handwriting. It was short and Dean could see dry tears over the paper. It smelled like her perfume mixed with dust. She had kept that letter for a long time.

That’s when Dean checked the date: January 24th, 2003.

The memories came back to him like a tsunami wave. That was his 25th birthday, but also the day he asked her to marry him.

Dean had to take a few minutes to calm himself before reading the letter.

“My beautiful lover, Dean:

I hope you don’t hate me for what I am about to do, it really is the only way out for me.

It’s 4 am, and I’m in front of a mirror, convincing myself that this is for the better. I can see your reflection behind me, you passed out from being so drunk and tired… You were celebrating but not me.

I know I said I would marry you, but I can’t. I know now that I am better off on my own, than having a man who doesn’t know what he has. Because, truth is, you don’t know what you have.

I love you, most ardently, but I can’t unsee the damage you did to me. Trust me, it’s been hard to try and forget when it was magic, but I believe I’m finally achieving it.”

Dean then noticed there was a whiter sheet behind that first one. It was more recent, and it smelled of a different perfume and didn’t have as many tears as the other one. This one was longer.

“January 24th, 2018.

Dean,

I came across this box as I cleaned my attic. I remembered I didn’t ever explained to you why I left, and that’s because I wasn’t brave enough to leave that letter you probably just read. I am brave now, and I would understand if you decide not to read this ever… or if you changed your post address. I have to say this, so I can finally close this cycle.

I had to do it, Dean. You kept treating me like I was less than nothing, you always said that the only worthy thing of me was my beauty, but what would happen when I was no longer beautiful? And what about those times you called me a coward? I would think I was being brave by staying with you, supporting you in spite of your abuse, but now I know that I wasn’t being brave. No, now I know the bravest thing I ever did was run.

I miss you, I really do. I confess that, sometimes, in the middle of the night, I can feel you again. I can feel your weight next to me, and smell the liquor and the leather that always made you who you are. I can still feel you breathing next to me, and I can almost see your face against the pillow.

I know I’m better off without you, better all alone than needing a man who changed his mind at any given minute. You were so full of yourself, and I had to stand it because I was your partner, and I thought that was how a good ride-or-die girlfriend worked.

Every choice, every plan, every move we made was always on your terms. You took away my freedom to choose. And I was there, hanging on every single careless word you’d say, hoping it would turn sweet again like they used to be in the beginning… But they never did.

I can hear your jealousy once again… Worst thing was you never expressed it against whoever was making you jealous. No, it was always against me. You would always talk me down, confident that I would always be around no matter what.

I did try to fix it, to get you back to who you used to be, but you always pushed me away. I wasn’t one of your loaded guns, Dean, and I certainly wasn’t trying to harm you. I guess you never thought I’d run.

You may be wondering why I held onto all of these memories. Well, I always felt the need to have you close somehow, to have proof that we ever existed, I had to hold onto this because it was all I had. I even doubted that I did the right thing by running away, but now I know why I had to say goodbye, and I’m finally free.

I gave you everything I had, I gave you my best. You can’t deny that, you really can’t. And honestly, I still wonder what we would’ve become if you were a better man.

We might still be in love, you would’ve been the one… I would’ve married you. But you had to be a better man, and you’re not.

Sadly for you, I still know you. I only wish you were a better man, but that is it.

I just miss you, and that is it.

I hope you have a good birthday, and I hope I didn’t ruin it with this letter. My gift to you is the goodbye I never gave you, the goodbye you deserved...

Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean breathed out loudly as a tear slipped down his face. That was it, the one thing he wanted ever since she ran away, and he didn’t feel complete yet.

And so he realised he would never feel complete ever again, not without her.

~ Unnecessary Extended Ending ~ Word Count: 467

It took him a lot of time to finally locate her, but when he did he didn’t hesitate in driving straight to her instead of searching more about her life.

The house was beautiful, with a white picket fence and bushes with flowers. The windows had fancy-looking curtains and the air smelled of home-made food.

Dean could see her from the outside. She looked gorgeous, in spite of the tiny wrinkles around her eyes and her messy hair - which was tied in a bun. She had a red apron over the beige sweater, and was right by the stove, stirring whatever was on the pan.

He approached the door and knocked. (Y/N) sighed and opened, thinking it was someone else.

The look on her face when she saw him could not be described with words.

Dean smiled at her tenderly, and before she could ask why he had suddenly appeared, Dean snapped his lips against hers. She slapped him, pushing him away as fast as possible.

There he realised, the look on her face was nothing else but utter regret for having sent that letter.

“Mommy, what’s going on?” A tiny voice broke the silence. (Y/N) turned around and Dean caught a glimpse of a tiny kid, that looked nothing like him, running towards her.

“Nothing, it’s just a seller. Go back to daddy,” (Y/N) calmed the kid with a sweet voice and then turned back to him again, giving a step out so she could close the door behind her.

“That’s your…?” Dean whispered and she nodded. “But the letter… And the pictures… You kept all those things for twenty years and…”

“I wrote the last letter ten years ago, when I met my husband… I didn’t send it because I figured you’d come back, so I left it in the attic and forgot about it,” She explained.

“But you did send it this time,” Dean insisted.

“I was clearing up some space for a new room,” She muttered, looking down to her belly. “I realised how… Unfair it had been to leave without saying goodbye and I sent it, but I guess it was a mistake.”

“I’m a better man now, (Y/N), give me another chance,” Dean sniffed, holding back the tears.

“I’m sorry, I moved on and you should too.”

Dean left, without saying anything else. He only took one last glimpse of her, regretting everything he had done for he knew that she could be his, that the life she lived could’ve been theirs.

The roar of the Impala was the last thing she heard of him. His future was uncertain, as always, and so she decided to consider him dead ever since. After all, he didn’t even know if he’d survive the night, and that was his life.

Masterlist.

Schedule.

To-Do List.

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anwo-prinz · 6 years

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ALA Artist Alley post-con writeup

Here’s my general experience from tabling & what I plan to do going forward. Photos also included after the cut. Long post.

So, overall I had a pretty good experience. It was my first western/American artist alley experience, I was curious to try it out after my circle experience for Comic Market 92. Skip this section and scroll down if you just wanna see photos (these are just reposted from twitter though).

The Good:

Had quite a few followers + friends stop by to buy stuff! Thank you so much, seriously - I really appreciated the support because my table would have been dead otherwise..! I also met some GBF artists which made me so happy!

Felt really great to see people have a positive reaction to my merch, just laughing or smiling at the Salty tote or Dont @ Me shirt. My best seller was the shirt & the mugs sold out quite quickly. I sold a decent number of coasters (though I still have way too many lol).

Was a huge learning experience and I feel like all my prepration for organizing & promoting my goods paid off!

Tabling made it really easy for friends to find me - something that isn’t common at cons, usually. People are usually all over the place.

So much space! The pavilion tent was a good choice overall. There was lots of room to walk around for attendees to browse casually since it wasn’t crowded or narrow. Also, even behind the tables there was a lot of space to spread our stuff out as artists! It was also climate controlled & A/C so I appreciated it not being too hot and dank.

AA staff was really cool - the organizer even stopped by my table to apologize about all the miscommunication and bad reactions. They also gave out water to us, and one of my friends was staff so he checked up on me every now and then.

The Bad:

The hours were so long... Friday & Saturday, it was open 10AM-7PM, then Sunday 10AM-5PM. I stayed most of the time and I was very exhausted, and doing it back-to-back for 3 days was rough. I wasn’t used to it, and the chairs were uncomfortable. Plus I didn’t have a table partner... I was also mentally exhausted from having to try to smile & be outgoing with conversation for so long. I’m normally not used to so much interaction face-to-face.

The strong winds on Sunday were really alarming! The whole tent was shaking, the support beams even creaking and moving a bit. It also got pretty chilly at nighttime.

I felt like a lot of the buyers for western artists are still very print-focused consumers? Or perhaps it’s because I’m a new artist without an established western following (I’d say my following is very small/niche due to my fandoms). I was selling coasters/mugs & tote bags/shirts, which I mistakenly thought would do pretty well (I overestimated myself on the bags & coasters). But most of the people who bought stuff from my table seemed to be people who were referred or knew me already, not really any impulse buyers. I thought my prices were quite fair ($5 coaster, $15 tote, and $22 shirt). But people would still have rather bought $15 prints, it seemed. Perhaps there was just a lot of competition because of how many artists were there, so people had to spend money really carefully.

Another thing is that even though people liked my stuff, I think it was harder to sell because the customers browsing might not have felt any attachment to the characters of my merch. Like I thought the Kaede rubber strap would do better but not many people bought it probably because they didn’t know the character, the Narmaya charm did OK though.

Doing stuff from Granblue Fantasy & iDOLM@STER when the fandom isn’t too popular in the west is pretty hard. However, there’s a small but dedicated fan base which helped a lot. A few iM@S Producers stopped by my table, and I was happy to chat with fellow GBF fans who were burnt out after fire guild wars!

In conclusion...

I did make enough from sales to cover all my expenses and also make a bit of profit (surprising especially as a 1st time tabling artist at a western con) so I feel pretty good about it! However, doing the 3-days-in-a-row thing was absolutely awful. I think I’ll stick to single-day events from now on, even if they’re just small events. No Fanime or Anime Expo for me.

I still plan on making stuff from GBF/iM@S just because those are my 2 main fandoms, I don’t really want to expand to making merch for series I’m not super passionate about even if it’d sell better. Just not my style. I am into Type Moon so maybe I’ll also make some FGO stuff on the side too, but not as a main focus.

I’m glad I did have a waitlist open for people who wanted to buy leftover goods, I have a decent amount of stuff that people asked for. I plan to open an online store too (after setting aside some stock for Ronin Expo, just a 1-day event in June in Los Angeles). I want to design more merch! Especially shirts and mugs. Also want to draw another book.

Feels like doing Comike spoiled me for doing cons though... I really would love to try to do an only-event like Cool Star Festiv@l in Japan or another Comike (maybe winter?). Maybe I’ll try it for the future!

Photos!

My table set-up! You can see an example of how the table looks behind me, which is just bare and white, with 2 chairs. The PVC pipe set up, the wire stands, hangers, blue tablecloth, bookstands, etc, are all stuff I brought from home (I got most of the stuff via home depot or daiso). It’s similar to Comike, you just get that little half table and some chairs; the rest you have to bring to set up for yourself.

Close-up for the price tags too.

The 4 shikishis I drew during the convention (3 were commissions, the other was just for fun)!

Lastly, some merch trades I did with new friends!

Sticker sheet: twitter/alyssaucy or tumblr/peachfuel

Neko Lancey keychain: tumblr/deerscritches

Lancelot+Siegfried rose keychain: tumblr/mitikokite

#personal #artist alley #anime los angeles

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theabominableblogger · 6 years

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My Reaction to “Gotham” S4E20

HOLY SHIT THIS EPISODE!!!!!!!!!!

AN: I managed to record my reactions to this episode and hopefully I can transcribe what I said into this post (even though about 20% of this post is screaming and inarticulate flailing)

*imitates the Epic Voice Trailer guy doing the Gotham commercials*

Oh my gosh...

[RIP Jerome Valeska Second Time’s the Charm] Hahahaha!

“To Jerome!” *tries to toast but can’t do it with a cell phone*

*The Jester rolls up on her motorcyle* It you... OK.

Oh that costume is awesome...

She has bells! On her coat! Oh my gosh!

“Dig me [Jerome] up! Dig me up!” *nervously laughs* Whaaaaaa.....

They keep reusing that same panning shot from the angel statue on...

“I [Jim] don’t need that crap thrown in my face right now. [Harvey] Get outta here!” Hooooooooo....

When is Lee going to cut this crap out?

“I’m [Lee] not betraying my friend [Ed].” Are you serious?

“If the law has lost its meaning, it's because people like you [Lee] are turning your back on it.“ Hooooo....

“I don't want to send you to Blackgate! That's the last thing I want to do. Don't you know I wish I could let you walk out that door, turn my head?” “What's holding you back?“ The laaww....

Guys, c’mon, I want them [Jim and Lee] to be happy. Not necessarily together but happy.

That’s the same freaking font as the one on the Wayne Enterprises “gift” that Jeremiah got

[PLAY ME] Oh my God

Oh my God! That font though [on the screen]!

“I want you to throw me a wake at the GCPD.“ Nooooo...

Air horn!

Noooo-oh my God!

Oh no-oh my God!

*Jerome’s cult brings the casket* THEY DID IT- WHA-

“I [Ed] would sooner debate you all on teleology versus deontology than leave her [Lee] with that overgrown Boy Scout [Jim].“ Whooohoohoohoo....

Oh my God...

“Team, we have everything? Bicycle pump? Can opener?“ Are they preparing a jail break or fixing the TARDIS console?

Pickle jar?!?

Oh I like that shot of Ed putting on the hat

Oh God... ooooohhhhh God.

“But right now, Jeremiah's maze may actually be the safest place for them.“ *nods*

OK, a 2 by 10 (whatever that is) plank is not going to barricade the door!

Did they say open the armory? Oh my God.

“This wake is just intended to distract us while his followers hit the real target.“ What’s the real target?

Ooooohhhh....

*claps hands* I like this plaaannn....

*sing songs* [Electricity whirring down]

*The generator turns on* Oooohhhh.... ooooohhh... wow!

Oh my gosh, there’s a solution poster of the maze on the wall in Jeremiah’s office.

That [generator] is HUGE!

“You’ve kept this project a secret, yes?” “No one outside of Wayne Enterprises knows it exists” *hisses* This just seems really dubious...

“It's the ones who are closest to you that you have to keep your eye on.“ OK what does that mean? What does it meannn...

“Arkham Asylum sent me [Jeremiah] Jerome’s personal effects. And amongst them, I found his diary.” What?

Haha oh my God!

I don’t want to even ask why there’s a glittery ice cream cone sticker on the cover

Whoa...

“Maybe you [Jeremiah] shouldn't spend so much time reading it.“ Yeah....

Oh my God...

Why don’t you actually close it?

*Bruce puts his hand down in the middle of the book* There we go.

“Your brother is dead, Jeremiah. It's time for you to come out of this bunker and join the world.“ *nods*

This just seems really dubious!

“Jerome Valeska’s acolytes are kicking off again” *whispers* Oh shit!

God, look how freaking paranoid Jeremiah is! Man!

Is that how it’s gonna kick off? What happened to his face? Didn’t it turn white?

“He’s alive and he’s coming after me!” He’s dead. He’s dead.

*Glass shatters in the background* Oh God, please...

Shoot...

*Alfred gets attacked offscreen* Oh my Goddd!!

“Bruce, I [Jeremiah] need to tell you something.” Oh, he’s gonna tell him about the gas!

I can’t freaking believe that this is the same actor. Bravo, Cameron!

“What if I [Bruce] could show you he's [Jerome] dead and buried?“ Is that gonna help?

“Then I’ll [Jeremiah] try.” There we go!

“You’re a good friend, Bruce.” *clutches chest and leans back in pain*

Ugh, man, they’re gonna set this up and then it’s just gonna go downhill from there

Oh God, who brought the chainsaw?

Oh my God...

Lee!

Is that the Jongleur character?

AN: Yes

“Hi, guys.” *in best George Clooney Batman voice* Hi guys, I’m Jim!

Freaking Jim gritting his teeth... I love it

Oh my God...

Oh my God, what happened?!?!? WHAT HAPPENED?!?

“He [Alfred] was on his way to your office. He'll wait for us there.“ Bruce....

“What was that?” Oh my God, he’s so paranoid!

Oh my God, they actually dug it up...

*Jeremiah bolts* Haaaaahahaha! Oh my God!

Yeah, no, Jerome’s dead. He’s so dead. I’m sorry, man, but he dead.

Oh my God... they’re [Oswald and Butch] watching cartoons!

Wouldn’t make-up work for Butch?

“Not run apace”.... that’s a new term

“Did you [Oswald] just shush me [Butch]?!?!?” Hahahahaha!

“Confusion is always an opportunity for the clear-headed.“ Oooohhh, that’s a good line.

You’re gonna interrogate him [Jongleur] with a cattle prod near reporters?!? Are you serious?

Dude...

*The Riddler arrives* Oh crap!

“We need a costume shop.” Oh my God, they’re gonna go in disguised as some of Jerome’s followers. Oh my God.

Lee, get up!

I like that dude with the black lace umbrella in the background!

Guys, what are we doing?

Of course he [Jeremiah] hides in a freaking... mausoleum.

That shot of Bruce is awesome.

“You can trust me because I'm your friend!” *whimpers*

“I want you to be my friend, Bruce.” *clutches chest*

“And then you came along and offered me everything I could dream of.” “Because I believe in you, Jeremiah.“ Oh my God...

This is breaking my heart. This is freaking breaking my heart!

“All we have to do is get out of here.“ *starts singing “We Gotta Get Out Of This Place” by The Animals*

*Jeremiah fires off a warning shot near Bruce’s feet* WHOA!

Where did he get the gun?

“You can fool everyone else but I [Jeremiah] know you made a switch.” Oh my God...

*actually clutches hair in stress* Oh my God...

“And you can't hide, not even behind that new face of yours.“ What? Wait, what? What?

“I know it’s you.” What?

“I know it’s you, Jerome.” Whaaaat?!?

Oh my God, Jeremiah, noooo....

“You killed my friend Bruce. Now it's time to put you back in your grave.“ Nooo....

*Jerome’s casket is revealed to be actually a beer cooler* HAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA...

*slaps chair in hilarity* Oh my gosh...

*Lee accidentally knocks out Ed* Oh my God!

Jiiiimmm..... this is such a bad idea, Jiiiimmmm....

OK, there’s the generator. They left it on? Why did they leave it on? They just wanted to see how long it would run?

Whoa.... what’s going on? What’s going on?

*Jerome’s corpse is found propped up next to his tombstone* OHHH MY GOD!

Jerome’s hair looks different... whoa...

*The Jester points a gun at Jim* Oh my God!

Is he [Jerome] just.. gaslighting the crap outta him [Jeremiah]?

*Jeremiah goes after Bruce with Jerome’s straight razor* Oh my God!

*gasps when Jerome starts getting strangled by someone offscreen*

Oh my God...

AN: Take a sip every time I’ve said this during this reaction. Careful, there’s a lot of them.

“Hold still, brother. Let's peel off that grotesque facade.” Oh my God...

HE’S DOING THE VOICE!

What kind of rule is that sharp that it can embed itself in a wall?

OOOOOHHHH!!!

OK, what’s going on? Seriously, what’s going on? What’s going on, what’s going on, what’s going on...

*jaw drops to the floor*

Whaatt... whaaat...

*Jeremiah shoots one of the cult followers through the chin* AAAAAHHHHH!!

What’s going on, what’s going on...

*absolutely screams when Jeremiah starts wiping off his makeup*

*absolutely screams again when Jeremiah does the same thing in the video that Jim is watching*

OOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!

Oh my God, there’s ten minutes left! WHAAAAAATT?!?

“Other than some mild cosmetic effects...” Hahaha my God...

Oh my God...

I just wanna know where Jerome found the time to make a freaking journal of all his escapades

Wait, so did he [Jeremiah] set up the whole thing?

Ohhhh my God....

“I [Jeremiah] would hate to be within a mile of it [the generator] if it were to... overload.” Oh my God...

“Jerome wanted to slather you [Bruce] in honey and have you eaten alive by corpse beetles.“ Eeewww...

Also, whoa there, Jerome. Calm down.

Can’t believe I’m kink-shaming a dead clown. What has this world come to?

“Are you gonna listen? Or you gonna behave like children?” Pfftttt.....

See, I [Jeremiah] don't want to kill you [Bruce], because I want to show you how much I've changed things. How much we've changed things.” Oh my God... oh my God....

Bruce doesn’t know about the generators. Ohhhh shit!

Oh my God, they’re not gonna kill off Jim!

“See those generators that we built with your [Bruce’s] money, they work even better as bombs.“ Oh my God...

*gasps when Jeremiah’s bunker blows up*

“Jim Gordon is dead.” No Jim ain’t dead. C’mon.

“In fact, I [Jeremiah] can honestly say... you [Bruce] are my very best friend.“ *through gritted teeth* Oh my Goddd...

My hands are actually shaking...

“I [Oswald] don't expect you [Jongleur] to betray the memory of that old corpse.“ Hoooo...

Roll credits!

“Is your [Butch’s] plan to gain his sympathy by reciting your tale of woe?“ Pffffttt....

*Butch starts shoving chicken bones up Jongleur’s nose* AAAAAAHHHHHH!

Hahaha Oswald in the background!

*pumps fist* Whoo whoo!

So do they [Ed and Lee] actually like each other here? What’s going on?

“I'm assuming you [Ed] brought one of those [clown costumes] for me [Lee]?” “Oh. Now, I would be into that, but they only had one.“ Hahahaha oh my Goddd...

*jams out to “Rockers” by U.K. Subs*

WHERE’S JIM?!?

*Ed and Lee share a kiss* Oooooohhhh....

“Don't just wrap me [Ed] around your finger, Lee.“ That is exactly what’s she’s doing.

“You know, it's funny, it kind of reminds me [Harvey] of my first apartment in Crown Point.” “How long ago was that?” “I still live there.” Heehee...

*Ecco shoots the guards* OOHHHHH

Wait, are they [Jeremiah and Ecco] holding each others’ arms? Almost protectively?

I’m.. actually totally down to see where this relationship goes in this show. I know it was mentioned that Ecco is “devoted” to Jeremiah so I’m not sure how far that goes.

There’s definitely an implication of romance in this bit but I’m very interested in how this goes down.

Ohhhh my God...

AAAAHHHH

AAHH THE LOGO

#that old corpse #Gotham #gotham spoilers #FOX #the blogger reacts #looked at the stars and considered a reaction #jerome valeska #jim gordon #lee tompkins #harvey bullock #bruce wayne #jeremiah valeska #oswald copplepot #jongleur #butch gilzean #edward nygma #ecco gotham #cameron monaghan #alfred pennyworth

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