#also friend zone is NOWHERE near a perfect show guys but it's just better & if you watch it you'll recognize so much from only friends

[namtanlovesfilm]

I love how people are shocked at the only friends ending being disappointing when the whole show had terrible writing since day one lmao. the friendship was never developed, all the characters are unlikable & get no real development, their is no plot except from shock factor scenes through random ass people kissing or fucking... and the worst of it all is that most of this show is just a worse remake of friend zone LMAO. want to see messy gays who are ACTUALLY interesting & get character development & grow throughout a show? watch friend zone, especially season two. and friend zone actually cared & developed its female characters, especially the queer ones 🙄

[klvbxlove]

quietness (investigation team x gn! reader)

a/n: honestly, this drabble was not planned at all. but for the past days, i had been feeling really down, so i figured the best and easiest way to somehow vent (?) my feelings was making this drabble. also, i know it might not sound like this is actually an investigation team x reader, but i put that there just because. 

(damn, this is a really large GIF. but this is the only one i can find with all the investigation team members 😅)

reader type: gender neutral

reader specification(s): reader is an introvert

genre(s): angst

trigger warning(s): mentions of self-doubting thoughts, mentions of unworthiness

summary: a week ago, you left inaba for osaka without telling your friends, the investigation team. but before that you wrote them a letter talking about everything you’ve been feeling prior to moving.

word count: 1.3k words

♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*) ♡ ♡ ♡

key:

(f/n) = friend’s name (y/n) = your name

♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*) ♡ ♡ ♡

   To any one of you who reads this, 

   I will have to be completely honest. I didn’t want to tell you guys about what’s going on. But I felt like I just had to, but not over text. That’s why I will write this as a letter instead. 

   Just in case (F/N) hasn’t told you guys, I gave this letter to them the day I seemed to have vanished and asked them to keep it secret for a while. They would only be able to show it to one of you ONLY if you began wondering where I’ve gone. 

   So now that you’ve begun reading this, you’re probably curious. Where have I been? Why did I suddenly disappear without a trace?

   First and foremost, I’m not in danger. I’m perfectly safe, and so is my family. It’s just that I’m no longer living in Inaba anymore. A few weeks ago, one of my guardians got a new job near Osaka, and we had to move so they could be closer to the workplace. 

   But enough about that. I didn’t write this letter only to tell you where I’ve gone. I figured I could vent out my feelings to you guys and explain how I’ve been feeling lately for the past few months.

   See, when I had moved to Inaba a few months ago, I thought it would be a nice place to settle, especially since I’m an introvert. I mean, think about it. City life might sound a bit draining for someone like me, right? And I know many people here regard Inaba as a quiet place in the middle of nowhere, but I mean, I liked it! I did not hate living in the city or anything (It was nice at times, to be honest.), but I thought that living in a quieter area would also be good for me. 

   I had those thoughts just a few weeks after settling down here. And it took me less time to fully get comfortable. I mean, sure, it was a bit unusual to not hear many sounds in the town compared to the city, but I didn’t mind. It was nice! 

   But that’s where things took a not-so-great turn for me. For the next few months, I had been crying to sleep almost every night. Making sure to be as quiet as possible, I would sob non-stop in my pillow. And it would go up to the point where I just exhausted myself. At first, I thought that maybe it was just my emotions messing with me. It happens on a few occasions. I figured, if I just settle down with myself, I would feel better. That was just it, right? That I would be alright in a few days?

   Yeah, no. 

   My usual routine of crying every night became consistent. I’m not sure if anyone was able to tell, though. I mean, I did hide the fact that I was feeling down. Around people, I didn’t act overly happy, but I didn’t act depressed either. To put it simply, I was just fine. 

   Right then and there, that was when I realized that maybe Inaba is not the place for me. I appreciated the quiet this town has to offer (and of course, I would never hold a grudge against this rural area). However, I just hated the silence. I guess it was making me feel more alone than I used to be for some odd reason. And usually, I’m not that bothered about being alone. Yet lately, I just hated it. I hated being in my room in all this silence. 

   And I know I could have told you guys about my struggles. I am NOT trying to indicate that any of you would try to ignore me (or anyone else in our friend group, really) if I was crying out for help; I know you guys would never. There was just the fear of being a burden. I know you guys have days where you’re either busy or need to deal with other personal things. I would feel bad if I ever added more to your plate. And it was also why I was so quiet whenever we hung out. I had a gut feeling that whatever I said didn’t matter.

   Honestly, hearing about the fact that I was moving to Osaka, arguably one of the largest cities in Japan, did excite me a little bit. Maybe I was more accustomed to living in a city rather than a rural town. 

   Now that I got to say all of that, I wanted to say I’m sorry. 

   I know it seemed like I had no trust in you. 

   I know I wasn’t comfortable ranting or venting about anything to you. 

   I know I’ve been distant from you for the past weeks. 

   And I know I must have worried you when you thought I went missing.

   For everything I’ve mentioned here, I’m very, very sorry.   

   But then again, I feel like it wouldn’t make anything much better. I know you guys probably feel like I treated you as fake friends and that I was pushing myself away from you. Hell, I bet everyone is probably mad at me. You probably have no plans on forgiving me anytime soon. I understand.

   However, I also just wanted to thank you guys for being one of the best friend groups ever. I’m honestly a bit picky about the people I open up with, but you guys managed to break that wall. And for that, I am grateful. Maybe one day, I’ll talk to you guys again. And maybe, we can all hang out just like we used to. Only if you want me to, that is.

   But until then, goodbye.

   (Y/N). 

-

   It had officially been a week since you wrote that letter and gave it to (F/N). You had no idea if any of the Investigation Team members ever wondered where you went or if they cared at all. But chances are, they probably did not. After all, you were arguably one of the quietest members ever, so how were they supposed to know what you have been through before you moved?

   Sighing, you closed the book you were reading and walked over towards the window. While your new house was still a bit farther from the city, you could still see the tall buildings from afar. Night had settled down in Japan, and the sky was pitch black while illuminated by the stars. 

   If there was one thing you had missed about living in the city, it was the sounds that you heard during the night. Was it loud? No. But was it dead silent? Of course not! You could almost describe it as the Goldilocks zone. Osaka was not too loud nor too silent.

   After a small smile grew on your lips, you suddenly let out a yawn. It was time to sleep. You had a long day ahead of you tomorrow. So you closed the curtains of the window, walked over towards your bed, and crawled into it. From what you have noticed, you have not been crying every night as often as you used to back in Inaba. Sure, a few tears trickled here and there. But it was not up to the point where the only way you could fall asleep was by sobbing. 

   Osaka seemed to be the perfect place for you to live. You could only hope that your emotions will begin to improve now that you are in a city again. It was clear it was not going to happen overnight. That was for sure, but you would be patient. 

   Of course, you were sad that you were miles away from the Investigation Team. However, you hoped that they were doing well, wherever they were. 

   And you could not forget to mention that you stood by what you last said in your letter to them. Maybe one day you would have the courage to talk to them more often and hang out just like you used to.

[marvel-ousnesss]

My very own Prince Charming (Bucky x reader Royal AU) - Pt. 1

Word count: 4705

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Queen!reader

Warning: Mild cursing

A:/N: I don't know much about royal protocols and other stuff so I mostly based myself on the Princess Diaries and some googling. Message me if you wanna be tagged in upcoming parts or updates on my masterlist. Also, this won’t match the MCU timeline, but will have some elements of the plot. And, for the sake of the story, S.H.I.E.L.D. is an international organization.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE MARVEL CHARACTERS/ PLOT.

Twenty three years ago, international intelligence had detected activity of Hydra members inside King James’ palace, and his only son, and heir to the crown, had received multiple threats. At first, the stubborn monarch didn’t make major changes, claiming Hydra was only cultivating fear. The prince was kidnapped, and only then were exhaustive measures taken, and; in a matter of a few months, he was found and taken back home.

It was hard not to notice that the traumatic experience had affected both the boy and his father, for the two of them had grown paranoid of something happening to them, or to their kingdom. So, internal security was doubled and the prince was sent into hiding. 

But the problem was nowhere near eliminated. More recent investigations had unmasked the nation’s Prime Minister, Alexander Pierce, and other members of the court, as Hydra spies and, considering the events that had unfolded before, you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw how relaxed the old king seemed to be with it all. 

That morning, he had strolled into your palace with the warm smile that he always seemed to wear; and, only after drinking his peppermint tea, did he step into the meeting room.

It had been an hour since then. 

Now, you were desperately trying to keep your composure. The meeting had been going on and on in what seemed like circles and King James Barnes could not bring himself to understand how serious the situation was. 

With Pierce imprisoned, the king openly expressed his intention to bring his son back into the spotlight. This, you thought, was the most reckless decision he could make, and you didn't keep it to yourself. As soon as you heard, you asked to meet him to make him see the risks of the whole plan. After all, it affected you directly, given that the prince was your betrothed. 

“Your majesty, I believe that matter was already taken care of, Minister Pierce and the rest of the traitors were imprisoned for their actions,” he assured, with his silver brows frowned. 

“That’s not enough, it’s unsafe and idiotic for Prince James to come back until the whole engine of Hydra is dismantled.” You took a sip of your coffee, trying to appear calm. 

“They’ll spend the rest of their days in maximum security; that will deliver the message. There is nothing to worry about.''

“Hydra won’t even flinch with their imprisonment, Prince James won’t be welcome here until the coast is clearer or international measures are taken,” you stated, crossing your arms. 

"That’s not a call for you to make, dear. I Will make the arrangements for my son to be sent here, as I had agreed with your father and the parliament of Galicia, and wedding preparations will commence as soon as he arrives."

They won't get any more fear from us," he looked at you pointedly; "from neither of our kingdoms”.

… 

You had met Tony Stark a few years prior, at the annual Diamond Aircraft Industries Convention and Exhibition, which you were both attending as honored guests. Just needed to say that, In Bruce's words, everything had gone downhill from there. 

He was one of the most frequent guests at the palace and you were one of the most distinguished figures to attend his parties; but, it was more than that. Since your friendship with the businessman began developing, you tested the waters and, bit by bit, grew to trust him. You became the closest of friends, and each other’s esporadical, charge-free therapists. 

For obvious reasons,  he told you all about his media starboy business, but you barely knew what went on downstairs, in his lab. Same went for him; you didn’t tell him everything, and he understood. But both of you had the vice of rambling a lot; so he had a good idea of the royal gossip going on in your life, and you had a few clues about his mad-scientist mystery.

There wasn’t much rambling, at the moment; just the therapy part. Your head rested between your hands while your mind drifted off, softly singing along the AC/DC album playing from the computer in front of you, thinking about possible solutions for the problem at hand. However, the awfully permanent smirk plastered on your friend's face didn't help at all. You groaned, lifting your head and frowning at the billionaire. 

“So… you’re not gonna marry him? There's one little problem standing in your way,” Tony scoffed, filling two glasses with his  finest Macallan. “Kind of a big problem actually: thirty-seven parliament members who'll have your head if you go all Princess Diaries on them. Not to mention Jimbo and junior, and daddy's ghost roaming around your castle." 

“Well, it's the only solution I can think of, daddy dearest sure managed to leave me between a gun and a wall, and not figuratively. I can’t call off the engagement just try to postpone it, that way, at least the king will have no reason to take his son back home anytime soon and, hopefully, I avoid getting a terrorist pain in the ass.” 

He leaned on the counter, taking a long sip of his drink. “Why do you care so much about Prince Charming; for all we know, old Jamey may have some Kingsman business under the table and, wedding or not, it’s gonna involve Galicia” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of, haven't you seen the news? How useful can a secret plan be if his government is basically Hydra's headquarters by now?” 

"Well, from the PG civilian version that you, and half of the journals worldwide, have told me, all of us are eventually gonna get bugged by Hydra, so you might as well make up a pro-wedding plan, which leads me to my field of expertise. Whatever you do, don't even try to pull a Mia Thermopolis. Trust me, the cameras are gonna be all over you, now more than ever; so, unless you wanna go from princess to pauper real quick, you need to behave.”

You emptied your glass, sitting back. "Nothing to worry about then. I’d rather hide under a rock than face a camera right now. Besides, don’t really know what they find appealing about my life; they already have Prince Harry and his American Girl, turning everything into some reality show.”

He quirked a brow, snickering. “No offense, but your life’s basically the royal edition of Parental control.”

"Fuck off. I'm not even against marrying the guy; I mean, how bad can it be?"

"Let’s see, um, Donald Trump bad, Charlie Sheen bad, Alec Baldwin bad,” he grimaced, “Amber Heard bad, ooh… Caytlin Jenner bad, want me to continue?" 

"I get it, Stark, it may not be ideal; but I'm really not bothered by an arranged marriage.”

“He could be ten years old,” he began fidgeting with a paper, making tiny balls out of it. 

You glared at him, “he’s not”.

“Could be gay,” he declared, throwing one of the balls into the trash can across the kitchen. 

“Wouldn’t be a bad thing, look at Philip of Orleans,” You tried to dodge, but the next ball hit you on the nose. You picked it up from your lap, and threw it back at him. 

“Cheesy,”

“There’s worse things.”

“Bald,” 

“Seriously, Tony?” You complained, standing up and turning the light on. You then moved past your previous spot on the kitchen chair, going straight for the couch. You let yourself fall gracelessly and padded the spot next to you, where Tony sprawled himself with a huff. 

“Or… he could be a cocky bastard.” 

“Already got practice with those.” You smirked, smacking him lightly  on the back of his head.

“Glad my bickering made you feel better,” he smiled at you. 

You laughed. “Fuck you, Jimmy Neutron.” 

“You wish,” he chuckled, grabbing the remote. 

—————————————

Two weeks passed, and it was done. No turning back now, Prince James had been sent to his kingdom and, after some father-son quality time, was supposed to arrive at your palace that very morning, for you to finally meet him in the afternoon. 

You felt like a complete idiot, like a high school girl. The last time you had seen the prince, you were both five, so all you could do was wonder how he had changed over the years. You had breakfast with an ambassador from the Global Charities Aid Foundation, but it had practically passed in a blur. Before you would’ve liked, you found yourself in the limousine, on your way back home, with the major part of the day still ahead of you. 

Your gaze was glued to the driver’s head, you were motionless. 

Thinking. 

What were you supposed to say to him? “Hey, you’re welcome to put us all in danger, make yourself at home. By the way, I think your father’s a dickhead”?... not appropriate. It had to go something along the lines of “Your highness, hi. Welcome to your future home but still my kingdom. But, hey! you get to  choose our wedding cake.”... no, too straight forward. 

“After speaking to Colonel Rhodes at eleven, you'll be heading to the Marbella room at three, for greeting and welcoming the prince and his people; and later, at four, a sweet two hours of document verification and signing.”

It had to be perfect; consistent, not sharp… kind, but not weak… polite, but not passive agress—

“Y/N, are you even listening to me?"

You huffed, “No.” 

Clint, one of your attachés, scoffed at your attitude but gave you an encouraging, soft smile. “Rhodes, prince, letters,” he clarified. 

"Maybe a few gallons of coffee to go with it? I’m sure the breakfast meeting left us all half asleep," suggested your bodyguard, Pietro. 

You let out a strangled laugh, but remained zoned out, until the intrigued gazes your bodyguard kept sending your way became too obvious.

“Do I have something on my face, Piet, or do you simply enjoy staring?” You spoke without catching his eye.

“Yes, no, nevermind… it’s just… there’s something on your face; a ‘gonna meet my husband’ look, kinda makes you look nervous.” 

“Really?” Clint jeered.

You loured at him, earning an apologetic puppy look. 

You chuckled, genuinely this time. Pietro could be annoying at times, he spoke without filter and got himself in trouble; but you couldn’t stay mad at him, the little shit always managed to make you laugh.

The limousine came to a stop, right in front of the palace. The door was opened for you, so you breathed once and graciously made your exit, followed by Pietro and Clint. 

Arriving home always brought a smile to your face; the marble facade of the place, together with the colorful gardens, the blue of the sky, and the friendly faces of your staff and household members made you momentarily forget about what was to come. 

“Your majesty, Mr. Barton,” grinned Wanda, your other attaché. “How was your meeting?” 

“Not that bad," you found yourself smiling at her. 

“Don’t I deserve a greeting?” asked Pietro, but his sister only rolled his eyes.

You scoffed at their quibbling. “How’s everything going? Has the Colonel arrived yet?” 

“He’s waiting for you in the library.” 

“Thanks, Wanda; I’ll see you later.” You made your way inside, closely followed by Pietro.

The Colonel was sitting on a velvet chair, going over a pile of paperwork. As soon as you made an appearance through the waiting room’s door, he stood up and subtly curtsied. “Your Majesty, Lieutenant Maximoff,” he greeted. 

“Sorry for the wait, Colonel. Shall we begin?” You opened the library door, allowing both men to go inside before you. 

You proceeded to settle on your desk, with your guest sitting in front of you. Pietro stationed himself at the door and adopted a firm posture, head held high and hands behind his back.

“Lieutenant, would you be kind enough to leave us alone?” 

Complying with his superior’s words, Pietro unlocked the door but, when he was about to open it, you said, “Lieutenant, please stay. Colonel, whatever you need to speak to me as my head of security, I’m sure the commander of the royal guard, whom you personally named, poses no danger.” 

“As you wish, your majesty; but I'm here to talk about a matter of absolute secrecy.”

You exhaled. 

“As you know, with the current situation, it would be wise for you to take measures in regards to your personal protection. I know we're talking about not only an anarchist, but terrorist organization, which requires the employment of country-wide measures, but members of King James's War and Defense council have expressed their desire to keep our actions minimal, to see how Hydra proceeds.” 

You quipped, “They want an attack.”

“I’m afraid so”, he nodded. 

“Fine, they want discretion, we'll give it to them. I want SHIELD involved. While the King's people work on whatever it is they are doing, I want someone there to get information from Pierce and the other inmates. No need to worry about me.”

"That'll certainly end up in diplomatic issues if we don't consult the World Security Council first," he said as he scanned his planner notebook, looking for the other topics he had selected for going over. 

"Too flashy," you mumbled, thinking.

“Maybe contact commander Hill,” suggested Pietro, who had heard about her reputation.

“Who?” you tilted your head.

“SHIELD’s Deputy Director”, clarified Rhodes, then prompted Pietro to continue. 

He looked into Rhodes’ eyes, then yours. “Once you tell her about his majesty’s plan of not having a plan, I’m sure she’ll assign someone without having to involve diplomacy.” 

“What do you, think, Colonel?”

“I’ll speak to her, and update you on the course of action that she recommends.” 

Pietro smirked, his chest sticking out.

“Great.” You nodded.

He scratched the topic from his list, “on a different matter, I wanted to ask if you had already set a date for the arranged visit of the  newly named members of the War and Defense council. I was thinking of next Friday, for dinner?” 

“Friday is perfect, Colonel.” You smiled, “I’ll see them at eight pm on that day.”

….

You had three hours to spare before the most dreaded meeting you've had since the reading of your father’s will. It was only natural for your head to be foggy but you couldn’t afford to waltz through the day like that. Fresh air, that’s what you needed. 

Discarding your trench, heels and dress, you jumped into a (classic avenger disguise) pair of skinny jeans and a hoodie, making sure your face was more or less concealed by sunglasses and a baseball cap. Ready to go, you walked out walked out the door but, as expected, you didn’t even reach the stairs. 

“Where’ you headed, your majesty?,” inquired Pietro, crossing his arms and lifting a brow. 

He was the most loyal friend one could ask for, but annoyingly rigorous when it came to his job. He had to know where you were and who you were with, especially outside the castle’s protection. 

“Just want some coffee, and maybe a croissant,” you tried to walk past him, but he grabbed your arm softly. 

“You know all that you need to do is say the word, right? The kitchen’s a call away.” Now, he was messing with you; you could tell by his boyish smirk.

“You know what I mean,” you playfully punched his arm. 

“Fine,” he lifted his hands defensively, “meet you downstairs.”

After you practically sprinted to the first floor, you sat down at the lobby and waited for your shadow. He walked down the stairs wearing a pair of gray joggers and a white basic v-neck, not forgetting his earpiece and gun, carefully concealed under his jacket. 

Both of the guards at the entrance bowed slightly and opened the wooden door. 

“Who would’ve thought you’d take babysitting so seriously?” You teased. 

“Well, don’t wanna deal with Clint and Wanda yelling at me for losing you; not to mention Rhodes and Stark, ” he deadpanned. “Would be annoying. Also, I’d have to go job-hunting.”

“I’m sure you’d manage, I mean, half of Hollywood would cut an ear off for you to work for them.” 

“What can I say, guess I'm that good at my job.” 

You scoffed, “I bet their thoughts drift off to things a bit over your pay-grade.''

“Well, my ‘pay-grade’,” he air quoted, “ is negotiable.” 

You quirked a brow at him, smirking, “eew.”

“You’re just jealous,” he taunted. “I’m sorry, but you're like my other sister."

"Yeah, right."

"One that's also my boss, kinda weird relationship; but, eh, you get the point."

You chuckled, letting the scene fall into a comfortable silence as you walked, occasionally hitting each other with your shoulders. After a few minutes, you arrived at your favorite coffee shop, and sat down on a table at the back. 

When he placed two huge cups on the table, you laughed, “you weren’t kidding about the gallons of coffee.”

“Oh, you wanted some too, my bad.” He grabbed a cup with each hand, holding them out of your reach.

“Oh yeah?” You took hold of the cardboard plate which held both of your donuts and put it on your lap, under the table. 

When you had your fill, and bought a few pastries to go, you made your way back to the castle. 

“You know, we should lay down for a bit,” you voiced. “There, under the trees.” 

“Don’t you have a blind date in like two hours?”  Not that you don’t look hot right now, but you need to get all royalled up.” 

Your smile disappeared, “Shit, you’re right.” 

With the park now behind you, minutes went by as you walked through the crowded street with Pietro, animatedly discussing some recent soccer games. 

You noticed that some odd looks were directed your way, so you tried to ignore them. Maybe it was just your imagination,  maybe they had just recognized you. Better brush it off… you adjusted your hood and continued. But the whispers and snickering were a reaction you never got when seen in public. 

It didn’t seem to stop. Now you were sure it wasn’t just you, so you looked at Pietro, silently asking for help. As a response, he placed an arm around your shoulders, shielding your face a bit better.

You continued talking as if nothing happened, but it was useless; even if the glances only came from some random pedestrians, it was getting pretty awkward. 

You were about to stop walking, when you felt an unfamiliar hand tapping your shoulder. 

“I’m really sorry, but you have a bloodstain on your pants,” the stranger  scratched the back of his neck, clearly taken aback by the situation. 

“Here.” He offered his denim jacket, which, after thinking about it for a moment, you accepted, wrapping it around your waist . 

You smiled at him, and he visibly relaxed, “thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” He gave you one last tight-lip smile and began toward the other side of the road, but still in the same direction in which you were going. 

Pietro softly pushed you forward, prompting you to say something; “he gave you his jacket,” he mumbled. 

“So?” 

“Flirting,” he coughed. 

You weren't supposed to; heck, you were on your way to meet your fiancé, but there was no  harm in small talk… right? You took a breath, it was the first time you did this, so you had absolutely no idea what to say. 

You took a step forward, then eyed Pietro, who urged you to continue… Here went nothing.

“I’m Y/N/N.”

He turned around, all of the sudden radiating confidence. 

With an alluring smile that made his indigo eyes twinkle, he replied, “Bucky, nice to meet you.” 

Pietro quietly snickered beside you, then opened his mouth, “and I’m Pietro, her boyf-”.

“Best friend”—you elbowed him in his right side— “he's my best friend.” 

Bucky’s gaze drifted between the two of you. After hesitating for a second, he chose to believe you. 

“So, where' you headed?” He asked. 

You lied with ease, giving him a charming smile, “I have a meeting near the palace, how ‘bout you?” 

“Same actually, wanna walk together?” His eyes drifted awkwardly between you and Pietro, “the… three of us?” 

“Actually, my sister just texted me, says she needs help with, uhh, her cat; he's been... acting weird lately. Bye Y/N/N.”

 Just like that, Pietro left. Only, he didn’t. 

He had to keep an eye on you, so he was just gonna keep his distance.

“So, your best friend…” Bucky trailed off, hands half inside the pockets of his jeans. 

“Yup,” you popped the ‘P’, "but let’s not talk about him. Your accent...,” you noted, “where are you from?” 

“I’ve been living in New York for quite some time,” he didn’t answer your question, but you gave it no mind. 

"What brought you all the way here?” You adjusted his jacket around your waist.

He scratched the back of his neck, letting out a breath.

"I… sorry, you don't have to-...," you atoned, but he cut you off. 

“Relax, doll, it’s fine," he assured. "My father called me last week, basically told me to drop everything and come help out with some family business.”

 The way in which he spoke picked your interest; it wasn't with resentment or bitterness, which you'd have expected from someone who had basically left everything on hold, but just as if he had been waiting for that to happen. Nevertheless, his voice came out thicker than it had before, so you could tell he was clearly affected by it. 

Unsure whether or not to change the topic, you asked, "what's New York like? I’ve never been there.”  

He chuckled softly, lifting his brows, "exhausting, fast-paced, it's like everyone's in a rush all the time. it's surprisingly homely; the people, the sights, everything's great but, you know, the food’s what I love the most.” 

You looked at him quizzically, tried to suppress a laugh, “seriously?”

“The touristy places aren’t bad, but, when you have an expert guide, that’d be me, it’s something else.” 

“Guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” you removed your hood, but fixed your hair so it would frame your face. 

“For now, you’ll have to.” He bit his lower lip, masking a smile. 

Did he just say ‘for now’? Of course he did. You chuckled nervously, doing what you could to get rid of the silences that had surfaced. 

“So, what else do you hide?, apart from being an expert New York foodie, of course,” you finally asked.

“I own a small gallery in Brooklyn,” he explained. “My friend, Steve, he’s an artist; we show and sell most of his work there,” his right hand moved to his hair, fixing a rebel strand. “But, enough ‘bout me. My turn to ask.” 

“Okay, shoot.”

“Ideal date.” He declared, with the same bold smile that, to be honest, made your knees tremble. 

This time, you straight up laughed at how straight forward he was. 

Before you’d have liked, you reached your destination. The World Trade Center and the Wakandan international aid center stood tall before you, in front of a subway station that led straight to the castle. 

Instead of heading down the subway stairs, you smiled at him and stopped walking. “Well, this is me. It was nice walking with you, uh.. take care.” 

You waved goodbye and walked to the buildings as fast as you could, avoiding any more conversation. 

“Wait!” Bucky urged, “didn’t catch your number.” 

You gave him his jacket back, together with an apologetic, tight lipped smile, and stepped inside. 

What was Pietro thinking? No, what were you thinking? If people at the palace heard a word of it, you'd never get a break.  Through the window, you saw him jogging toward the subway station with a slight frown on his face, and mentally cursed. 

With that taken care of, you could focus on fixing your bloody situation so you could get to the palace (sort of) on time.

You waited until Bucky was out of sight and sprinted across the street, toward the recently opened Wakandan aid center. When you entered the lobby, you greeted the staff and walked to the receptionist’s desk. 

Amare was the woman who assisted you every time you came to meet king T’Challa or the ambassador, so you didn’t hesitate to ask her for a tampon, a pad, whatever she had at hand, really.

She handed you a tampon and you rushed to the restroom. Once out, you  glanced out the window to make sure the coast was clear. After thanking her and saying goodbye, you went toward the subway station. Your hand flew to your jean’s back pocket and, by heart, you dialed your prime minister’s number. 

“I assume you're running late.” His voice was tired; no, calm, yet aggravated.

"Hey, Bruce," you sang, trying to lighten the mood.

"Y/N.” 

His voice was still cold, but softer. You sighed and went straight to the point. Bruce was one of the most patient and understanding people you Knew, but you didn’t wanna push him too far. He was known for having quite a thin temper, which you had personally experienced only two times and wanted to keep it that way.

“Please, could you entertain Prince James and his people?, just for a bit,” you were panting, jogging down the stairs. “I’m begging you, I just had a little problem.” 

“Of course I'll help you," he sighed.  “Just make sure you get here before they leave.”

“So, so funny," you rolled your eyes. “See you at twenty.” 

He coughed, “ten.” 

He already knew there was no hope of you arriving on time. This was a frequent conversation between the two of you; whether it was for an official matter, or whatever else that required your presence. 

As soon as the phone call ended, your train arrived. You opted for standing up, wanting to avoid leaving a crime scene on the plastic seat; your hand grabbed the pole, and your left foot bounced restlessly. Practically jumping out of the train, you sprinted to the palace and straight to your room. 

Shower, tampon, dress, makeup, hair, and you were out the door, with your shoes in your hand. Heels could wait. 

Record time, you thought, falling limp on one of the chairs outside the throne room; proceeding to put your stilettos on and fix other minor details. 

While you were at it, Pietro, who was leaning against the doorway, made his presence known. “You know, something tells me there’s a story that I’d like to hear”. 

“You literally shadowed me the whole way home, Piet, you got first row seats for the entire thing.” You glanced at his navy blue suit through your makeup mirror, as you fixed your lipstick. 

He loosened his tie a little bit. “Just to be clear, I wasn’t listening,” he claimed. 

You rolled your eyes. "Of course you weren't.”

“How nosy do you think I am?” 

“Very.” 

He protested weakly but you gave it no mind, your heart was pounding and your hands were shaking. You inhaled and closed them into fists, then grabbed the handle of the door. 

You were about to open it, then you stopped. “I don’t think I can do this.” 

Pietro grabbed your arms and gently rubbed up and down. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“What if it’s not,” you mumbled. 

“You have nothing to worry about.” He turned you around so he could face you. "If he doesn't like you, I'm sure he'll change his mind in no time; I mean, look at you. And, if he ever tries to hurt you or take over your throne, you know I'll kill him, remember that." 

You hugged him tightly. "Thanks," you whispered into his shoulder. 

At first, you opened the door just enough for your voice to be heard, so your name could be announced.

“In comes her royal majesty, Queen Y/N from the house of Y/L/N; and Lieutenant Pietro Maximoff, commander of the Royal Guard and of her majesty's personal escort.”

That's when you stepped into the throne room. 

Requests open!

[rambling-at-midnight]

Inferno: Part 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

I’m not sure how long I’ll make this... maybe three or four parts?

If you’d like to be added to my Peter Parker, Marvel, or Inferno Taglist, let me know!

You storm into the compound, not even noticing the ground cracking where you stomp your feet, and fling your bag, which is filled entirely with clothes, away from you with so much force that it hits the concrete wall and makes a dent.

“What the hell was that?” your father slams the door shut.

“You know exactly what!” you yell back, pointing a finger at him when he takes an angry step forward. “The boy you spend my entire captivity gushing about—the boy that’s never been to prison, the boy that hasn’t killed anyone yet—you bring him with you to pick me up? Me, your biological child—”

“I wanted you to be friends!” Tony roars. “God forbid I try to put you out of your comfort zone, Y/N! I get that you’re angry, and I’m sorry you were stuck in that awful place for so long but I was fighting the whole time for you to be free!”

“You took me nowhere when I was free!” you scream back, feeling your fists heat when you clench them and your face heat as well. “You bragged about me to nobody because you’re ashamed of me, and don’t admit it! Now you’ve found the perfect straight-A kid and what, you bring him everywhere? I bet he’s gone on vacation with you to Hawaii, right? You even brought him to pick up your delinquent child like you’re showing her off like a prize pony at a show!”

Tony kicks a chair. It skids across the room and into the far wall. “I wasn’t showing you off at all! I wanted to help you adjust after a year of captivity! I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think about me!” you bellow. “You never have, because I wasn’t something that you got to choose, but you chose precious Peter Parker and that makes him perfect, huh? I bet you take Peter Parker on vacations and talk about him to all your rich friends and you never mention poor charity case Y/N Stark, the criminal vigilante!”

His face red, Tony roars, “Do you want me to talk about you with my friends? What do you want me to talk about, Y/N? ‘Hey, Rhodey, let’s talk about Y/N, whose mother kept her a secret her entire life—’”

“Don’t you dare talk about my mother!” You point a flaming finger at him, not even recognizing the heat. You suppose that’s what happens after a year of numbness. All the emotions come rushing out at once.

“I am not replacing you with Peter Parker, Y/N,” Tony says, softer now, and it makes you even angrier. What right does he have to be quiet when everything inside of you is raging?

“You’re right,” you say sarcastically. “He’s not my replacement. He’s your do-over. Well, have fun with that, Tony,” you spit. “I’ll get my delinquent ass out of your hair. Maybe I’ll go meet up with Cap, won’t that be fun?” It’s an empty threat; Cap doesn’t like you after you’d almost torched his ass for beating up your father in Siberia and you don’t like him that much either. He’d always been too... uppity.

I bet Peter’s uppity, you think derogatorily, and almost feel bad. It’s not Peter’s fault that your father’s an ass.

“Do you want me to talk about you?” Tony asks, a little desperately. “I’ll talk about you right now. Do you want me to use the Instagram you made me? I’ll put it on a story right now.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you hiss. “I want you to leave me the hell alone. God knows I heard enough talking from you from the past year to last me a lifetime.” You storm out of the room. For some reason your eyes are stinging.

“Do you want me to take you on a trip?” Tony calls after your retreating back. “We can go anywhere, Y/N! Please, come back and we can talk about this!”

That was definitely one of the worse fights you’ve had with your father. He wants so badly to please, but he’s also prideful and stubborn, and so are you. You’re bound to clash heads a few times. And shoving you into a loud, cramped helicopter after about a year of almost solitary confinement didn’t help matters.

You didn’t want to be angry with your father. You wanted so bad to be happy to see him, because you do know that he feels bad that you were locked up and he couldn’t do anything about it. And you do love him. But you haven’t been anything but angry ever since you realized that they were locking you up unfairly. And now that you can’t get in trouble for heating up, there’s no reason to bottle your anger up.

You’re going to catch a few criminals.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You know who Spider-man is. Obviously. You weren’t allowed to log into your own social media accounts, but you weren’t completely cut off from the world. So yes, you’ve heard all about the masked web-slinger, even if he’d only barely emerged before Germany and hadn’t operated in your same area of New York. You’ve seen videos of him doing his thing on the internet. He seems like a cool dude, if a bit naive. He takes churros from old ladies and helps people recover their stolen bicycles. He says hi to people and does backflips to show off to those who ask for it. He seems like an all-around upstanding guy.

You weren’t expecting to see him, although perhaps you should have anticipated that after the initial hordes of fans excited to see that you’ve been released. You’re sure there will be thousands of theories floating around the internet until your father releases the initial statement. Maybe they’ll think you escaped from the prison. Maybe they’ll think you killed all the guards in order to escape. Maybe they think you’re on the run now.

Besides, he seems to operate in the skies, and you prefer to keep your feet on the ground.

Either way, Spider-man stands in front of you now, extending his hand. You reach out to take it back but he recoils and you see why; you’re still glowing with heat.

Your face goes red (with a blush, not heat) as you shake out your hand and then take his firm grip.

“Are you good?”

You take a look around at the various bodies on the ground and shrug. What was sure to be a gruesome scene is still a gruesome scene, but in a different way. The bodies of four men lie on the ground. Spider-man took out two of them with his webs and you took out the other two by shattering one’s kneecap and severely burning the other’s arm after he shot you. You’d already been having a bad day, so who can blame you for grabbing him with a red-hot hand?

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say briskly. The wound hurt for barely a second before your skin closed around the bullet, as it tends to do. Walking back to the compound will surely be a pain in the ass, and so will doctors cutting you open to fish around in your guts for the metal bullet, but it’s better than bleeding out. You quickly pull your shirt up, exposing unmarred skin. “See?” You tap the tender bump near your hip bone and grit your teeth with pain. The bone must have stopped the bullet. “It’s right there.” If only you’d had enough warning to harden your skin.

“Thank you so much,” the girl you’d saved says breathlessly. She clutches her purse to her chest and, despite what had nearly happened to her, seems no worse for the wear. To the contrary, she looks at you and Spider-man with a near-hero worship. “I can’t believe I just got saved by Inferno and Spider-man.”

“Do you want an escort home?” Spider-man asks, making you blink with surprise. You’d never thought before to walk the people you save home. He really is a nice dude.

The girl shakes her head. “My Uber is here.” She points behind her. “Thank you so much again, though!”

You wave good-bye to her and take a step back, ready to start your trek back to the compound, but the bullet grinds against your bone and you grit your teeth to keep from screaming.

“I’m pretty sure that having a bullet in your skin is not ‘fine’,” Spider-man says gently. “I’ve got a first-aid kit back at my place, if you want—”

“Really, I’m fine,” you wave him off. You’ve had worse. Much, much worse. “It was cool to meet you, though.” You awkwardly dip your head at him. “You’re pretty cool, Spider-man.”

Spider-man snorts.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just...” he brings his hand up to his mask and almost looks like he’s going to pull it off. “Well, if you knew who I am under this mask, you wouldn’t say that.” His hand drops back to his side.

You shrug. “Then keep wearing the mask. I doubt I know you, anyway; New York is pretty big. You might know my identity, but I’m not pressed with burning curiosity to know yours.” At least, you hadn’t. If running into Spider-man becomes a regular occurrence, you might become more curious. “Besides, I think I’d still think you pretty cool. You’re a superhero, aren’t you?”

“Look, I really don’t feel cool with you walking home on your leg—”

Your voice has a hard edge when you insist, “I’m fine. Really. But maybe I’ll see you around?” There is a disgusting hopeful note when you ask that, and you curse yourself for sounding desperate.

“Definitely.” Spider-man nods and you’ll be damned if you can’t hear a smile in his voice. He takes a step back and trips over a trash can, landing hard on his ass, and you cover your smile with your hand in order to preserve his dignity. “I—I’ll just—I’m going.” He flips to his feet and waves like a dork at you. You wave back and he jumps onto the side of the building to your right. It takes you aback; seeing his powers on YouTube is very different than seeing them in real life.

When he’s at the top, Spider-man peers over the edge of the building and waves at you a second time, making you realize that you’d been watching him climb. “Are you sure—”

“Bye!”

Inferno Taglist:

@paullrud @eridanuswave @loveissupernatural @moistpotatobear

Peter Parker x Reader Taglist:

@iconicbabesss

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen

[writing-for-amusement]

Commission for Confidence, 10

Summary:  Y/N has been struggling with her self-esteem for years. After incessant pushing from your best friend, Y/N decides to commission an artist to draw her, expecting everything to happen via Internet. However, when your phone is stolen, you try to cancel the commission, but Peter Parker has other ideas. He quickly becomes enraptured by you, and a friendship forms easily. Will it lead to something more? Or will your past fears get in the way?

A/N: ALRIGHT Y’ALL, HERE IT IS. Omg, I feel like it has been FOREVER since I updated this fic, and I feel so bad!! However, I know it’s because I was working on other stuff, and stuff with life has popped up. I hope you guys like this chapter, I am relatively happy with it. After this one, I’m gonna do a little time skip. It might be a bit before that, though, because I want to do some of the requests I’ve gotten!! Enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think! There’s also some conversing in sign language and I hope I wrote it in a good way! I know that when you’re actually signing a conversation, there are a lot of little filler words that get cut out because that’s obviously the nature of the language, but I wrote the signing as it was meant to be interpreted. Please give me some feedback on how I wrote it if you can, I just want to write well!!!

You can still get on any of my taglists, including my permanent one! If your username has a strikethrough, it means it isn’t working

Permanent Taglist: @pparkerwrites, @jordyns-library, @natblidaclexa, @peterseuphoria, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @beccaboo929, @softrdj, @icecoldban, @paintballkid711

CFC Taglist: @scatterbrainedgenius, @wildfirecracker, @pastlives-purplesouls, @maybemona, @hotchocolattee, @heregoestheworld, @willowtree42095, @134340-cm, @this-is-just-for-fanfic-lmao, @poc-gotbang, @sincerelygmg, @toastedpopsicles, @imstupidsblog, @casual-vaporwave, @xfangirl-trashx

Word Count: 4855

Warnings: fluff, Monopoly related anger, some nerves and anxiety, mostly just fluff I think???, some mention of pain pills, swearing lmao, minor self esteem issues but barely there, legit it’s mostly fluff

You woke up to your alarm and groggily pressed snooze. After pressing snooze twice, you sat up with muscles that protested, but nowhere near as loudly as they had that morning. The TV was asking if you were still watching, so you pressed the yes button and stood up.

Checking your phone, you padded to the kitchen and turned on the electric kettle again. There were a few messages, to your surprise.

Monica had texted you multiple times, demanding to know how you were and why you weren’t responding. You realized with a wince that you’d forgotten to tell her about the entire incident the previous day.

The other messages were from Peter, asking you about your snack preferences. They were more recent, thankfully, so you replied to those first.

As you crossed to your room and debated what clothes to wear, you called your best friend. You were unsurprised when she answered on the first ring.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” she demanded immediately.

“Listen, Monica—”

“No, no, you listen!” she interrupted you. “I was scrolling through some apps last night, and I saw a news clip of Spider-Man, and there you were! You were right there! And I saw you afterward, covered in cuts and bits of glass! What the fuck happened?”

You sighed and gave a quick overview, knowing that Monica was squeamish when it involved injuries. She started squealing with excitement as you told her that Peter came to keep you company, and that he made dinner for you. When you told her that you needed her help picking an outfit for game night, Monica was immediately facetiming you.

“What are we looking at?” Monica demanded as your face appeared.

“A casual night, meeting his aunt and best friend,” you explained. “We gotta go quick, though, because I really want a shower. Like, I think it’ll make my body feel so much better.”

“Of course. What about that Spider-Man shirt you have? And some leggings, that one black pair that you totally rock.”

“But that’s a crop top,” you argued quietly. “Not much of one, but it is…”

“Do it, you rock that shirt,” Monica encouraged you. “Besides, it’s casual, you’ll fit in perfectly! And, if I remember correctly, it’s a super comfy shirt.”

“Of course, you remember correctly,” you chuckled as you pulled it out, “you bought it for me, remember?”

“I do,” she beamed at you.

“Okay, love, I’m gonna get in the shower. I’ve got it from here.”

“Alright, hot stuff,” Monica winked, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

You raised a brow at her, causing her to cackle and quickly blow a kiss to you through the screen. With a quick goodbye, she hung up.

The hot water from the shower was amazing. It made everything feel just a little bit better, the muscles in your body nearly melting upon first water contact.

After one of the best showers you ever had, you dried off and inspected your bandages. You were thankful that you had plenty of bandages, because you felt a bit more comfortable with clean bandages on your cuts. There were only a few that looked like they were still a bit oozy.

You got dressed, incredibly happy that your muscles were arguing less, and put on just a little bit of mascara. Then, after making sure you had everything, you slipped your shoes on and began your walk to Peter’s apartment. He didn’t live super far away, and you realized as you checked your phone that you were thirty minutes early.

Instead of going into the building, you continued past it and into the flower shop right next door. You adored that flower shop; they always had the nicest and freshest blooms for the season. And their prices were very fair. You’d been visiting the shop since you moved to the city; at first you’d wandered upon it, but then you made some fast friends.

You waved to Sofia, the owner, and signed, “Hello, Sofia. How are you?”

“Great! Business is great,” she signed back, giving you the brightest grin. “What do you need today?” Suddenly, her eyes zoned in on the bandages on your arm and face. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Just a small incident with some broken glass. I’m fine, I promise. It doesn’t even hurt. I need something for a friend’s aunt,” you explained. “She’s like a mother to him. I’m thinking something not too big, with bright colors. Maybe some tulips and daffodils?”

“Okay, well, as long as you’re okay. Tell me, what’s she like?"

You paused for a moment, trying to think about what you could say. “I haven’t met her,” you signed, “but I’ve heard only good things.”

“What’s her kid like?” Sofia asked. “Name?”

You quickly spelt Peter’s name with your fingers and Sofia grinned. “Oh, is he nice?”

“He’s very sweet,” you informed her, “almost like candy.”

Sofia wiggled her eyebrows at you and held up a finger to pause the conversation. You waited patiently as she walked farther into her shop, obviously on a mission for the bouquet she had in mind. After she didn’t show up for another two minutes, you turned and began to admire the day-old bouquets behind you.

You turned back as Sofia approached with a simple bouquet in her hands. There were orange tulips and yellow daffodils, arranged artfully. Without asking, Sofia put them in a simple vase with a bit of water; she tied a yellow bow around it and showed it to you with pride shining in her eyes.

“It’s perfect!” you cheered, emphatically signing your admiration and appreciation. “You are so talented, Sofia!”

She waved you off playfully, a grin on her lips. “I hope they all like them.”

You paid the woman, noting that she knocked the price down for you; you shoved a twenty-dollar bill in her tip jar when her back was turned. Sofia handed you the receipt and gave you a sly smile.

“Tell me about Peter,” she urged, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s really sweet, an artist,” you explained. At her look, you cut her off. “He’s just a friend, Sofia. I’m about to go over to his game night with his roommate and aunt.”

“That sounds like fun. Is he cute, do you like him?”

Your eyes went wide at her blunt question and her laughter made it obvious that she already knew the answer. “He’s a wonderful person,” you informed her, trying not to give more away. Sofia could always see through anything, though.

“You like him,” she signed with a wicked grin. “You do!”

“He’s my friend!” you protested, rolling your eyes. “Speaking of Peter, I need to get going to game night.”

“Fine, fine, I hope you get some!” Sofia signed quickly.

Your blood rushed at her words. Instead of gracing her with a response, you stuck your tongue out at her and bid her a goodbye. Her laughter followed you out of the shop.

You bustled to the apartment building next door, holding the flowers close to your nose. They smelt divine.

The person in the lobby recognized you and gave you a wide smile. You waved at him and went straight to the elevator. It was a smooth ride up, and as you adjusted your arm, you felt a twinge of pain. Perhaps you should’ve taken some ibuprofen before you left…

You got off the elevator and walked to Peter’s door. You were ten minutes early, but that was okay. After going through a mental checklist, you nodded to yourself and finally knocked on the door. There was an urge to rock on your feet to get your nerves out, but you managed to curb that urge.

The door opened and you were met with Peter, a breathless smile on his face; as he looked at your shirt, he blushed bright red. Right behind him were two people, each peering around the man to get a look. You found yourself essentially giggling with mirth at the sight of two heads crowding in with Peter’s, nearly pushing the man over. It was downright hilarious to you, and you had to turn away from the door to try to quiet your chortling.

“I’m sorry,” you finally managed to get out, constantly interrupted by your own giggles, “I’m sorry, it’s just so funny, you’re all smushed together like that!”

Peter started chuckling with you, and after another minute, you turned back around. He was still at the door, the most adorable smile on his face, the blush still prominent (you had no idea why he was blushing, but it was super cute). The people that had been behind him were gone, but you could hear them talking in the apartment.

“Sorry,” you chuckled lightly.

“Hey, I love your laugh, so please, laugh away,” he grinned at you.

Your blood seemed to sing as you finally followed him in. Standing by the dining room table was a woman, one you assumed was May Parker.

“Y/N,” Peter began, “this is my Aunt May. And in the kitchen is Ned.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled a bit shyly at the woman. You held the flowers out. “I had some extra time before coming here, so I got you these flowers. I hope you like them. I-I know it might be a little weird, but I’m very fond of your nephew, and he speaks so highly of you. Besides, surprise flowers are nice,” you explained nervously.

“Thank you so much!” May beamed at you, coming forward and taking the vase from your hands. She wrapped one arm around you in a surprise hug and then kissed your cheek. When she pulled back, her smile was wider, and she sniffed the flowers. “Peter was right when he said you’re a sweet woman.”

You blood warmed slightly and you shifted on your feet. “Peter is really sweet, too.”

“I know, such a good kid,” May said adoringly. “Well, are you ready for game night?”

“Just how intense is it supposed to get?” you asked with a grin.

“Depends on how much you can handle.”

“What are we playing?”

“Thought we’d start with Monopoly.”

Your grin widened. “Oh yeah, I can definitely handle that intensity.”

“A girl after my own heart. By the way, I love your shirt, it’s super cute and on-brand for this family,” May told you as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder and steered you to the dining room table, where the game was already set up.

 “I swear to fucking god, Peter, if you put another hotel there, I will flip this table!” Ned was yelling ninety minutes later.

“What about you, buying all utilities?” Peter shot back, his eyes full of fire.

“It’s only because Y/N bought all the airports!”

“That’s how the game works!” you and May joined in simultaneously.

“You’re just jealous that I got all the red spaces!” Peter yelled to Ned.

“Because you know I love the red spaces!” Ned shouted.

“That’s why I got them! Payback, bitch!”

“Oh, so this is payback for the time I decided to play as the dog because you were running late again?”

“Yes!”

You glanced at May and erupted into laughter. Despite the semi-harsh words being said, you could see the amusement in both men’s eyes and the smiles on their faces. It was, all in all, incredibly amusing. The energy of the room was electric and warm, incredibly comforting in an unusual but not unwelcome way.

Ned and Peter stopped arguing as they heard your laughter. You were leaning back in your chair, your head tilted and your hand on your chest as you tried to calm your cackling. May joined in, and soon, so did Peter and Ned.

“I think I have a solution,” you informed them as your laughter sobered.

“Let me hear it,” Ned and Peter said simultaneously.

You grinned at them before quickly flipping the board over. Everything went flying and you immediately dissolved back into laughter at everyone’s shocked faces. Their mouths remained open and you continued to laugh as you cleaned up the board and put everything back in the box. The laughter had devolved into chuckles when May began to help you put stuff away, a bright smile on her face.

“I like you, Y/N. You fit right in,” she said frankly.

You smiled sheepishly as you organized the money.

When you turned to look at Ned and Peter, they were both turned away from the table, whispering to each other and glancing over their shoulders. As you raised an eyebrow at Peter, he immediately turned red and jerked his head back.

With a shrug, you discussed what movie to watch with May. You both agreed that it was probably a good idea to put a movie on and play a different game. May was suggesting Cards Against Humanity, and you were seriously considering it. Of course, you were also weighing in the possibilities for total embarrassment with that particular game.

“Oh, what the hell, let’s do it!” you beamed, finding May’s cheer adorable.

Ned and Peter were still whispering while you helped May transfer all cups and food to the coffee table in the living room. You were setting everything up and they were still whispering as May put on Weird Science.

“Truly one of the great classics, May,” you informed her with an approving nod.

May nodded at you before giving you a pointed glance towards the boys. You gave a tiny nod of confirmation and walked over to them.

“Guys,” you stated loudly behind them, making Ned jump in surprise. “C’mon, it’s time for Cards Against Humanity and Weird Science. Wanna make some popcorn?”

“S-sure,” Peter stuttered, his ears and cheeks bright red.

“What’s got you two all worked in a bunch?” you asked gently.

“I, um, I have to run into the office really quick,” Peter admitted in a rush.

“Oh,” you blinked in surprise. “Um, okay? Is that what you’ve been discussing?”

“Y-yeah,” Peter admitted, his blush getting deeper.

“Are you worried about me?” you asked gently.

“I just, it would be rude—”

“Hey, Peter, it’s okay,” you interrupted him tenderly. “Emergencies happen. It’s totally cool with me. Besides, I like Ned, and I’m ready to win all of May’s love for all eternity.” You leaned forward slightly and pretended to whisper, “I’m gonna be her favorite, Peter; I’m gunning for your spot.”

Peter and Ned laughed loudly at that before Peter jogged to his room to get something he needed for the office. Ned rushed to the kitchen to make some popcorn while you went to sit on the couch with May.

“So, May, Peter has to go to the office for some sort of emergency,” you informed the woman as you plopped onto the couch next to her.

“That happens a lot,” May shrugged a shoulder. “And you can call me Aunt May, Y/N. After all this stuff tonight, I’m pretty sure you’re one of mine now.”

You laughed brightly, trying to calm the excitement that coursed through your veins. It had been awhile since you had that sort of motherly affection, and you didn’t quite know what to do about it. But you decided that you would roll with it.

“Okay, gotta go, see you in a bit, bye!” Peter’s voice flashed by you as he ran to the front door and left loudly.

“That was… weird,” you muttered under your breath. “Figured he’d actually, y’know, face us to say goodbye.”

“Oh, he gets like that when there’s an emergency,” Aunt May explained casually.

“Y-yeah, sometimes he doesn’t even go out the door, he goes down the fire escape,” Ned said almost… nervously.

As you watched the movie and casually played Cards Against Humanity, occasionally taking photos of the really good plays to show Peter when he returned, you found yourself getting really comfortable with the other two people. When the movie was over, Aunt May popped in another comedy, White Chicks.

About halfway through the movie, Aunt May decided to call it a night. She gave you a warm hug and a squeeze, telling you to wear the Spider-Man shirt more often with a wink. She gave Ned a squeeze and told either of you to give Peter a hug when he came back from the office. With another wave over her shoulder, Aunt May left.

Luckily, it wasn’t awkward with just Ned. You talked about both your jobs and your shared love of science fiction as the movie played. Ned even told you a few funny Peter stories that you soaked up with a vigor. When White Chicks was over, Ned decided to pop one more movie in while waiting for Peter (he picked Airplane).

You found yourself nodding off slightly while the movie was playing. Between the worlds of awake and asleep, you stretched out on the couch a bit more. It was an incredibly comfortable couch, obviously easy to fall asleep on.

Not even halfway through Airplane, Ned saw that you were sleeping peacefully. He figured that were still tired from the previous day, so he turned down the volume of the TV. After draping a blanket over your sleeping form, he went to bed.

 Peter entered through the living room window cautiously. He could see that the TV was still on, so he didn’t want to alert you if you were still home, but his window had been getting stuck and needed fixing.

Rolling through the window silently, Peter sprang up to see you asleep on the couch. The light from the TV, playing the menu screen for Airplane, was giving you a light blue glow. You looked absolutely fantastic, but you also looked slightly uncomfortable as you used your arm as a pillow.

He took a step to you before remembering that he was still in his suit. Quickly changing into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, Peter lightly jogged to your sleeping form with a pillow in his hands.

“Y/N,” you heard a gentle voice prodding you awake. “Y/N, wake up.”

Groaning lightly, you managed to open your eyes and push up from your position slightly. To your slight surprise, you saw Peter kneeling next to you. The light from the TV was making him look unfairly attractive, as was that damn tight white t-shirt.

“You’re too cute,” you muttered as you relaxed your arms to lay back down. “’S not fair that you’re so damn attractive,” you continued to mutter. “’S not fair to others that aren’t pretty, people like me.” A yawn stretched your lips and you smacked your lips.

Peter’s light chuckle floated to your ears. “You want a pillow, Y/N?”

You grumbled, making him laugh.

“C’mon, let’s get you more comfortable.”

“Are you comfy?” you mumbled.

“I mean, I’m kneeling on the floor.”

“Are you a comfy person?”

“I-I, I mean, I guess.”

“I’d rather use you than a pillow,” you admitted, still mostly asleep. “It’s cause ya look so comfy and cuddly.”

Peter chuckled again as you settled into your previous position. Your slightly opened eyes saw him biting his lip in thought before he nudged you over. You complied easily, scooting back until your back touched the back of the couch. You mused over the wideness of the couch and lifted slightly so Peter could snake his arm under your head.

He settled in next to you and you nuzzled closer and into his chest. You wrapped your leg over his and let out a small hum of comfort. Peter chuckled and you felt him hesitantly trail his hand down until it rested on your waist. With another hum, you felt yourself fall back into a deep, comfortable sleep.

 You woke up slowly, feeling more rested and comfortable than you had in a long time. The night of sleep had been so nice, in fact, that you really didn’t want to continue to wake up. Still, you knew that you had to wake up eventually, so you opened your eyes.

Peter’s sleeping face was right in front of yours. His curly brown hair was falling across his forehead adorably, and the peaceful look on his face made you want to take a picture. You couldn’t do that, of course, because it wasn’t like you were his girlfriend or an actual artist like he was.

You couldn’t remember exactly what happened after you fell asleep the first time. As you memorized Peter’s sleeping face, you tried to recall how you came into this predicament. Peter’s arms holding you close did not go past you.

You let out a slight sigh and tried to squash the excitement that came when Peter let out a small grumble and tightened his hold on you.

A vague whisper of a memory came into your mind as you couldn’t help but bring your hand up to brush some of Peter’s hair off his forehead.

The memory told you that you’d mumbled some things that you would not have said otherwise. Apparently, sleepy you had much more confidence and a much smaller filter than fully aware and awake you. You felt your blood rush as your boldness from your sleep-induced state came into your living memory.

As you played with Peter’s hair, you decided to not focus on the words you’d uttered. Instead, you focused on the softness of his hair and the smoothness of his skin. He was so peaceful, and your tender, hesitant touches seemed to make him relax even more.

Peter let out a sigh and pulled you ever closer. After another minute, and you tucking your arm back against your body, your gaze was met with Peter’s sleepy brown eyes.

“G’morning,” he murmured, giving you a squeeze. “You’re a really good cuddle buddy. So warm and soft and nice. Smell good too.”

You chuckled lightly before you nudged Peter slightly. “Sorry about last night,” you said quietly. “I didn’t know I’m so… bold when I’m sleepy.”

Peter chuckled sleepily and the breath tickled your skin. “It’s alright,” he sighed happily. “I liked it. And I liked cuddling with you.”

“I did too,” you admitted shyly. “Peter?”

“Hm?”

“I need to use the bathroom.”

Peter let out a dramatic groan before removing his arms and rolling over. He obviously forgot that he was on the couch, because he landed on the floor with a thud. You couldn’t stop the loud laughter that left you as his fluffy curls popped up while Peter glared at you for laughing at his plight.

You climbed over him, still laughing, and hurried to the bathroom. All the liquids you had ingested the night before had caught up with you, and you cursed your past self for causing your present self to have to leave Peter’s cuddles. Then again, you pondered as you washed your hands, you hadn’t expected to spend the night, nor to cuddle with Peter.

If you weren’t so relaxed and still sleepy, you’d probably be freaking out.

When you walked back out, you saw that Peter was sitting on a counter in the kitchen. He was typing on his phone and a pot of coffee was brewing in the kitchen. As you entered the kitchen, you let out a groan of relief at the smell of the coffee.

“You should make that sound more often,” Peter informed you casually as he glanced up from his phone.

Your blood sang through your body and you decided to not comment on that. You texted Monica and told her that you planned on calling her later in the day, and a few minutes later, Peter was handing you a mug of coffee.

“Thanks,” you smiled at him.

“No problem. Thanks for inviting me to cuddle last night,” he smirked lightheartedly at you. “That was the best sleep of my life.”

You chuckled as you made your coffee the way you liked it. “I slept very well, too. Thank you, Peter. And thank you for being so cool about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Shrugging a shoulder, you sighed as you took your first sip of coffee. “I don’t know,” you admitted, “just… I don’t know. But I still appreciate it. I don’t always sleep the best, and it really was a nice sleep. So, thanks, Peter.”

“Hey, anytime. I seriously mean that, by the way,” he gave you a pointed look.

You barked out a laugh and nodded. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good!”

Peter offered you some toast, or a bagel, but you politely declined. At his concerned look, you explained that you weren’t normally hungry right after waking up. You also told him that you needed to get home and take a pain pill to get rid of the little ache you still felt in your body. He pouted but seemed to understand.

After you finished your coffee, you went to the bathroom and your hands through your hair to make sure it didn’t look too crazy for your short walk. Sure, it was NYC, but you didn’t like to stand out. Peter laughed and told you that your hair was fine, but at your sideways teasing glare, he chuckled even more and left you to fix it up.

“Okay, Peter, I’d better get going,” you announced as you entered the living room.

Peter was adorably curled on the couch with a sketchbook in his lap. You pretended to peer around his shoulder to see what he was working on, but he held it to his chest and gave you a fake glare. He relaxed as you chuckled and stood up.

“Okay, well, thank you for having me over,” you said as you walked to the door.

“What are you thanking me now for? I’m walking you home,” Peter chuckled as he followed you to the door.

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“I’m walking you,” he said in a no-nonsense tone.

You didn’t argue and instead let him lead the way out of his apartment.

The walk to your apartment was brief but nice. The coolness of the morning air was refreshing, and Peter kept up a casual stream of conversation that you eagerly participated in.

Almost too soon, you reached your building and turned to Peter. He grinned at you and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you, Peter,” you said softly, changing the whole dynamic around you. You felt a bit vulnerable with the shift you caused, but you pushed on. “I had a really great time. It really took my mind off of things, and I really appreciate you inviting me into your life. I feel… honored to have met some of the people most important to you. Thank you.”

Peter’s smile was tender and made your heart dance. “Thank you, Y/N. I’m really happy you got to meet Ned and Aunt May, and that you get along so well with them. I know I had to leave, but I’m really, really glad you had such a great time. Aunt May was texting me and telling me that you’re her favorite now, so… lucky you, I guess,” he pretended to pout.

You laughed and shifted your weight a bit. “She’s a wonderful woman, and she raised a wonderful man. I know you’ll always be her actual favorite, but I’m gonna soak up that title for as long as I can.”

The atmosphere had shifted again, and you felt less vulnerable. Still, you felt good; you didn’t feel guilt at sharing your feelings the way you sometimes did.

“Well, I’d better let you get back to your Saturday,” you announced, wincing internally at the awkwardness of the announcement.

“Y-yeah,” Peter agreed, giving you a smile that perhaps had a tinge of sadness.

“I’ll, uh, see you soon? If you want?”

“Yeah, definitely!” His eagerness made your heart do a little Irish jig. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? I know you’re still sore from the other day.”

“Of course. You too, Peter. I mean, any excuse to see you again, am I right?” Your face heated as you realized what you said. “Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, okay? Tell Ned I said thank you for letting him into his home, and that it was nice to meet him,” you plowed on quickly. “Anyway, thanks again, Peter. Stay safe!”

Before you realized what you were doing, you stepped forward and kissed his cheek before retreating inside. You didn’t look back as you rushed to the building door, much too focused on dealing with your river dancing heart. When you glanced at him from the door, you saw the brightest, happiest smile you had ever seen.

Your river dancing heart slowed down at the sight of his smile. Warmth filled your body and your muscles relaxed. With one more smile at him, you went inside.

As soon as you entered your apartment, you slid down the door and onto the floor. Your smile was almost hurting your face with how long it had been there.

No matter the ache in your face, you didn’t want this feeling to fade.

[parkernotes]

better together

also available on ao3

post-endgame / fix-it / family bonding / irondad

word count: 2541

It's something out of need, at first; after a few weeks of insistence, Pepper finally convinces him it will be a good idea to send Morgan to an actual kindergarten - where she can make friends and play with people less than ten years older than her for a change - instead of keeping her at home to be homeschooled by her overprotective dad. After a few more weeks of intense research and debate, they decide on a local kindergarten where Pepper will be able to drop Morgan off when heading to the city for work, and that Tony can easily drive to in the mornings she can't - it's the perfect choice. However, they only realize Morgan will need proper school supplies a few days before the start of her first official school year.

“Instead of ordering everything online, you could go on a little trip downtown,” Pepper suggests on Thursday. “You know she loves the city. It could be fun.”

Shopping in New York can be a real struggle sometimes, especially when people tend to recognize Tony and make sure he's aware of that, but as soon as the idea of going to the city pops into his mind, a certain sixteen-year-old superhero does too, and that's basically enough to convince him it wouldn't be that bad.

“Hey, Mo,” he calls, looking down at the little girl who's playing with her action figures on the living room’s rug. “You wanna see Petey this weekend?”

Morgan’s head shots up and she nods excitingly. “Yes!”

Pepper rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. “You act like he doesn’t sleep over practically every weekend.”

Tony shrugs. “Kid probably needs a new backpack, anyways.”

“True,” Pepper laughs, then hums thoughtfully. “You know, you could take them for a little trip around the city after shopping, too. Pete’s been stressed about his midterms, it’d be good for him to distract himself a little bit, don’t you think?”

Tony ponders on it for a few seconds, while simultaneously trying - but failing - to avoid thinking of how Peter truly managed to occupy a special space in their domestic life, to the point that even Pepper Potts knows about his exam calendar. He holds back a smile, then nods. “I guess so. If the kid has the time, I don’t see why not.”

“Daddy, can we go to the zoo?” Morgan asks sweetly from the floor, having heard the entirety of the conversation until that point. “Please?”

Tony’s perfect idea of a day out with the kids didn’t include the zoo, but he finds he can't say no to Morgan’s hopeful little face. He smiles in response, fishing his phone from his pocket while leaning forwards to brush her hair from her face at the same time.

“Let’s see what Petey thinks,” he says.

Me [19:46]

Hey kiddo, Morgan and I are going downtown for some shopping this Saturday, wanna join? We’ll turn it into a little trip afterwards too, if you have time. Might do your head some good.

The answers come a few minutes later, when Tony’s transferred himself to the floor, back against the couch as Morgan explains him the rules of her make-believe world with the action figures. He's trying to understand its politics and why the Thor figurine became enemies with the Captain America one when his phone buzzes.

Pete [19:58]

ofc mr. stark i’d love to!! where are we going?

Me [20:00]

First we’re buying some school supplies, but the rest of the day is still undecided.

Pete [20:01]

have you thought of visiting the zoo??

Tony sighs down at his phone. He then turns to Morgan, “You’re too much like him.”

The little girl looks a bit confused by the statement, but she smiles sweetly at him nonetheless.

xx

“Look!”

Tony turns around to watch Morgan sprint all the way down the aisle where a few kids' backpacks are on display. Peter reaches her first and laughs, and Tony only gets what’s so funny when he actually has a look at the products.

“You want a Spider-Man backpack?” he deadpans. “The Iron Man ones are down there, you know. In case you missed them.”

Peter sniggers. “I think they’re cool.”

“Me too,” Morgan agrees solemnly. She turns around and looks up at Tony, pointing a chubby finger at one of them. “Can I have this one? Pretty please?”

Tony sighs, grabbing the backpack she’s pointing at. "If you insist," he says, forcing a grumpy tone because he doesn't really want to admit that the thought of Morgan going to school with a Spider-Man backpack is actually extremely adorable. He then reaches to grasp her hand in his, “No more running, ‘kay? Stay close to me and Peter.”

Morgan nods, but she already looks rather distracted, glancing around at the colorful products as they start walking down the aisle – at a civil pace, thank you very much – again. Tony nudges Peter, gesturing with the hand holding the backpack to the section of normal-sized bags with neutral colors.

“Grab one for you, I know you’ve ripped the last one."

Peter has the decency to look a bit embarrassed. Tony doesn't mind buying him stuff at all, but it's the third one in the last two months - one would expect that a smart kid like him would've already found a proper hiding place for his belongings when he goes to patrol right after school, but no luck so far.

"Come on, or I'll buy you a Hello Kitty one."

They make it to the cashier - Peter hands him a navy blue backpack, and Tony has a look at all of Morgan's supplies before turning to the boy, "Don't you need anything else, kiddo? You always need new pens. Go grab some, we can wait."

"It's okay, Mr. Stark," Peter reassures him with a grin, patting Morgan on the back when she throws herself against his legs dramatically because it's taking too long, I want to go to the zoo. "I went on a stationary haul with May last month, so I'm fully stocked on pens!"

Tony hums, but he grabs a pack of ballpoint black pens hanging near the cashier and throws in with their stuff about to be rung up, just to make sure.

Happy's still waiting outside with the car once that's done, and soon enough the kids are on the backseat, with a over-excited Morgan securely strapped in, and Tony's sitting on the passenger seat while Happy pulls off to drop them at the zoo.

Due to traffic, after what seems to be like the forty longest minutes of Tony's life, during which he endured Peter practicing random animal sounds with Morgan on the backseat (he's pretty sure they don't have whales at the Central Park's Zoo, so their practice wasn't making a whole lot of sense) while trying to estimate how long they will take so that Happy can be there to pick them up on time, they finally arrive.

"See you in three hours, Boss," Happy tells him through the window as they disembark. He takes a look at Tony and the kids, who have already started making their way towards the entrance without him. "Good luck."

He pays for the tickets and soon enough they're inside; it's a Saturday but still early, right before lunchtime, so it isn't crowded as Tony feared. Still, he makes sure to buy himself a cheap cap together with lion-shaped balloon Morgan begs for right at the entrance, and together with his shades that's enough to keep his identity just a slightly bit more intact.

The first stop is the Tropic Zone, and Tony has to pick Morgan up so she can have a look above the railings at the colorful birds and other animals Tony can't really name, but Peter fills in and does it for him. With his free hand, Tony keeps said boy from toppling over into the fake rainforest with a hand clenched on the material of the back of his jacket, heart skipping a beat every time Peter points a finger excitingly at something and leans forwards even more.

They have a walk around the Temperate Territory and spend a ridiculous amount of time looking at the snow leopards. As any other five-year-old, Morgan is just excited to wave at the animals and see if they react in any way - even if said reaction is the slight turn of their heads the other way - but Tony can sometimes see something flash in Peter's still youthful but more mature eyes, like a little bit of pity for the ones in the other side of the cages. Still, Tony smiles to himself when the boy forgets about it for a while, eyes sparkling and his jaw dropping as he observes the animals move around. It feels nice to see him act his age, for once.

It is a really nice day. He never would've thought that spending time with two children - his kids - would be this fun, and he can't wait to go back home and tell Pepper how the day went by smoothly despite her worries.

However, it seems like good things never last indeed, for his hopeful thinking quickly changes when they arrive at the place where they kept the sea lions, right when the animals' feeding and training session is about to begin. Looking down, he sees that Morgan is holding hands with Peter, so he doesn't bother to uncross his arms and he gets distracted with the little show going on in front of them - it's not his fault, it's actually quite impressive what those little guys can do.

Right when the audience explodes in a round of applause after a particular impressive trick, he smiles down at Morgan only to realize she's gone. No, actually, both kids are gone, and Tony immediately makes a complete turn to inspect the place around him but they're nowhere to be seen.

He doesn't want to attract attention to himself, so he escapes to the back of the crowd, looking around worriedly all around him as he does so. When there's still no sight of Peter's green hoodie or Morgan's obnoxious bright yellow rompers, Tony curses quietly to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists anxiously. He knows nothing bad could happen to them - especially since his little girl is with Spider-Man, not a regular teen - but losing sight of them when the only thing he's supposed to do all day is look after them makes him feel weirdly concerned.

After a few more moments inspecting his surroundings, he approaches a guy standing a little bit further away from the crowd wearing the zoo's guide uniform - he looks up puzzledly as soon as he notices someone is approaching him in quick strides.

"Listen, I'm looking for my kids," Tony blurts out right away, just as the guy's eyes start to widen. "It's a boy about this tall," he says, raising his hand up to the height of his shoulder. "And a tiny girl wearing ugly yellow rompers? Have you seen them?"

"U-Um, I," the guy stutters, squints at Tony a little bit. "Are- are you by any chance-"

"Nope, not who you think I am," he dismisses briskly, chancing a quick look around just in case the kids decide to sprout out of nowhere and end his suffering. "But I need you to focus, have you seen them?"

The guy reluctantly look away from him to point to his right. "I think I, um, saw some kids that match your description heading that-"

"Thanks!"

Tony makes a beeline to the direction pointed, and he makes a turn into a more isolated area of the zoo, where he can spot a gift shop and the doors leading to the restrooms. He mumbles a curse, looking around frantically until a tiny little yellow spot catches his eye a few feet ahead.

"Mo!" he calls, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Daddy!" Morgan answers, pointing at something above her. "You hav'ta help Petey!"

"What-" he begins, but doesn't need to finish the sentence once he shifts his gaze up.

There, balancing himself on top of a thick tree branch is Peter; he's using one of his arms to support himself by hugging the trunk, but the other one is reaching up to something Tony recognizes as Morgan's lion-shaped balloon stuck among some thinner branches and leaves.

"What the- Peter!" he hisses, loud enough for the boy to hear. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Mo lost her balloon!" Peter answers matter-of-factly, not bothering to look down at them. He grunts, repositioning himself to try and get closer to said object, feet shifting dangerously against the wood beneath him. "I'm just trying to-"

"Get down, now," Tony hisses again, looking both ways to see if there's anyone coming. Thankfully the area remains deserted, the visitors being distracted by the show which is still going on, just like they were supposed to.

"But I just need to-"

"Right now, Peter!" he raises his voice, heart racing when Peter almost slips. "I'll buy another balloon, just get down!"

Peter grunts and then sighs in defeat. "Fine," he says, starting to climb down the tree, but still not as carefully as Tony would've wanted.

"You," he starts once the boy is standing right in front of him, not even a drop of sweat on his skin as if that whole stunt didn't tire him at all - and it probably didn't. Tony points an accusatory finger at him. "You are going to drive me crazy."

Peter frowns, "But it was going to be easy, I just had to-"

"No, I know you didn't think this through-"

"I did think this through, Mo just asked me-"

"I know you felt inspired by the monkey exhibit back there but you can't just go around climbing trees without wearing your-"

"You're over exaggerating! It's just a tree, not the Empire State Building-"

"You-"

"Daddy," Morgan interrupts, tugging at the hem of his jacket. "Can I get a bear this time?"

Tony sighs, running a hand up and down his face once before smiling. "'Course, baby," he says. He's about to lead them forwards towards the gift shop but as a second thought he stops, looking down at her, mockingly serious. "Promise me you'll never follow your brother's example. Repeat after me: climbing trees is dangerous."

"C-Climb- Climing trees is dangerous," she repeats dutifully, but already has an eye on her desired balloon being displayed just outside the gift shop.

Tony looks up when he hears Peter choke on a laugh, and the smile the boy shoots him is enough to make him forget about the whole ordeal.

"Just kidding, Mo, you can climb how many trees you want," he says, picking her up to place a smooch on her cheek. "Just let me know first, okay?" he says, then nods with satisfaction when Morgan hums in agreement. He then glares at Peter. "The same goes for you, monkey wannabe, or else I'll make Karen tattletale on everything you-"

"Yes, I get it," the boy rolls his eyes, but he's still smiling. Like always, he accepts the arm Tony places around his shoulders easily, and soon enough they fall into step again.

[ywiseul-blog]

hey ! you can call me nox ( they/them, 18+, cst, shooter for bts + girl groups ) & this is my quietly broody son, iseul ! i’m really excited to be here. i love stardew valley & harvest moon a lot so this is a basically a rp dream come true for me ! he’s a baking major & assistant librarian who still doesn’t really understand the farming life, despite living in yangwon for five years now. i’ll work on his bio soon, but for now here’s his stats page & acceptance post which gives a little insight about what kind of person he is. under the cut you’ll find both a list of wanted connections ( mayhaps i’ll make a fleshed out plots page one day ... don’t count on it :/ ). if you want to plot feel free to hit the like button & i’ll fly to your ims immediately. or you can ask for either my discord or twitter if that makes things easier ( it definitely does for me ) !

wanted connections:

exes (any gender is fine. i love ex plots so please! it can be friendly or angsty. also i am willing to have iseul be the issue in the relationship because he can be rather ... prickly)

hookups (whether on a regular basis or an one night stand type thing. but the location would have to be on your muse because iseul still lives with his parents JKHGDFLKJGHD)

hey maybe a plot where our muses are trying to smash and they have to find out that iseul still lives at home? just for the laffs x

flirtationships that don’t go anywhere

probably the one person who immediately made iseul feel comfortable when he first moved here, his ride or die, the best buddy (must have live in yangwon for at least five years)

childhood friends and/or childhood crushes (for people who used to live in seoul)

someone break down his walls he needs to OPEN UP

talk to him about fantasy! world of warcraft? elder scrolls? dnd? he’s here for it

same goes for horror/the paranormal. while he’s a sensible, logical kind of guy he’d definitely be up for any ghost hunting shenanigans!

his cooking class guinea pigs (he’s good at cooking but even he can have his mess ups sometimes)

maybe a sibling type relationship? he’s distant but he’ll be soft with anyone younger than himself. or maybe an older muse wants to curve his serious attitude and treat him like the kid he actually is

a bad influence (he’s a lightweight when it comes to alcohol and also just needs to get out so please)

library regulars (give me overdue book fee comedic plots like your muse trying to flirt their way out of paying or things of that sort. also iseul being a nag about your muse being on the computer for longer than the allowed two hours. or just him ignoring your muse because he’s too wrapped up in whatever podcast he’s listening to. maybe your muse wants podcast recs from him!)

one-sided pining (i don’t mind who has the caught feelings)

mutual pining

enemies?!

maybe some bickering about his pro joja stance

someone he can bond with over former city life and how much they miss it (that sweet 4g, fast wifi speeds, the bright lights or anything else)

maybe a bullying/pranking type plot? he is a cushy rich boy nerd so. always down for him being relentlessly teased!

study buddies? maybe he tutors your muse and he gets to brag about just how much better your muse’s grades have gotten

some simple life-esque plot where your muse is determined to teach iseul about the farming lifestyle and he utterly fails at all of it

yangwon book club?!?!?!?!

anything you might be able to think of FDJKDKHGDSLKGJD

info dump:

his parents are well off and a little uptight but they love iseul and he loves them. he’s one of those overachievers who’d do anything for his parents. and they’re those people who nag out of love and maybe don’t give iseul the full praise he deserves. he doesn’t hold it against them but he definitely yearns for their constant approval

because of this iseul wears a constant image of feigned perfection. around them he is proper and upstanding, though on the inside he’s rather pessimistic and definitely still hurt over being hoisted from seoul and put in this middle of nowhere town

his parents would be shocked to learn that he curses let alone has any sort of negative thoughts about the life he’s been given. they grew tired of the hustle and bustle of seoul and wanted to retire somewhere quieter, but iseul merely longs for it years later. yet he refuses to leave because he wishes to be near them (his loyalty is ridiculous)

is he bitter? oh yeah absolutely. will he ever let anyone become aware of this? NOPE

books have always been a comfort for him and he loves being surrounded by them hence his current job position. it’s not something he wants to do forever (his true love is cooking) but it’s definitely better than the other options in yangwon. the thought of doing physical labor makes him shudder

he does more book collecting than actual reading especially in adulthood since he doesn’t really have the time for it anymore. but he loves getting different editions of his favorite books, like a different press or published in another language. this is usually what he gets for his birthday or other holidays

podcasts are his preferred form of entertainment. he listens to them constantly at work though he’s not supposed to. he’s gotten in trouble a few times for not paying attention closely enough / straight up ignoring customers, but he blames it on being an airhead, which he is absolutely not (insert video compilation of jungkook zoning out here)

if he gets less than eight hours of sleep a night he will just be a zombie all of the next day. and he’s an old man in that he gets sleepy around nine pm every night

he enjoys learning about people and their secrets but he refuses to open up to anyone in the same way

he’s absolutely pro jojamart sorry yangwon nation :/ he won’t keep quiet about it either so good luck getting him to shut up about it

he knows absolutely nothing about farming despite having lived here for a good chunk of time now (he thinks cows are really cute though)

his favorite flavor of anything is birthday cake. if it exists he wants it

he hates coffee (strangely enough though he loves cafes and will gladly hang out in one any time) and mostly lives off water and juice. maybe the occasional glass of wine when he’s feeling frisky

while he’s not the most considerate person he loves showering people he considers himself close to in baked goods for any reason possible

his opinions are black and white. he never stands in the middle on an issue. the only thing he’s not 100% sure of is whether he believes in ghosts or not. he definitely wants to but can’t fully get behind the logic of it

nothing gets on his nerves more than people who keep books for longer than they’ve checked them out for or when they hang out on the computers for longer than two hours. expect a glare if you do either of these things

he gets lonely a lot but he’s too stubborn to do anything about it

he’s absolutely afraid of commitment and having to express deep emotions to someone but he does crave affection (cuddling and kissing mostly) constantly

he likes to gossip about the people who come into the library and he loves to make up little fantasy lives for them because it keeps him from going insane at work

he acts very uptight about everything and loves to seem like he’s never had any kind of fun in his life but show him a cat video and he’ll immediately soften up

he’s a chaotic bi and all beautiful people of any gender makes him flustered but he tries not to show it (this usually fails)

he doesn’t have much dating experience and he’s too embarrassed to use things like tinder

he’s probably too much like his parents, old-fashioned ideals and all but he’s doing his best!

[theimpossiblescheme]

“But I believe in beauty and I hate war--why do I have to die?”

I’ve gone on about the old 1970s sci-fi series “The Fantastic Journey” a little bit before on this blog, and it should come as a surprise to no one that my favorite character is Roddy McDowall’s Jonathan Willaway.  But it has more to do with the genuinely clever writing around the character than with the actor (although he does help a great deal).  As campy and far-fetched as the show can be sometimes, all of its best and most memorable moments go toward helping a man who was once a greedy loner with no respect for the sanctity of life along the path of redemption until he eventually becomes a sort of reluctant hero or at least a wild card with more of a noble side than he cares to admit.  And you can see his progression with each episode he’s in--join me under the cut for details!

“Beyond the Mountain”: Jonathan Willaway the Somewhat Tragic Villain who builds a home for himself off of slave labor just to prevent going crazy from isolation, tries to force a woman to marry him solely for the sake of having another human around, and is forced to watch his home painfully crash and burn under the weight of his own pride.

(Even while he’s very much the bad guy, we still get glimpses of the humanity underneath.  He does love, or at least tries to convince himself that he loves, the androids he’s built to basically be his servants and “family”.  He notes that seeing one of them, whom he’s come to consider like a son to him, without his central processing unit is like seeing him dead and starts to have second thoughts about punishing his disobedience.  It’s the archetype of the “kind” slaveowner who takes up the “White Man’s Burden” and thinks he’s doing a service to mankind by doing so.  And when he watches his home be abruptly reclaimed by the ones he’s wronged, he’s left a numb, broken man with nowhere to go and not even the energy to properly cry. When we see him again at the end, it’s no coincidence that he’s wearing black—Jonathan’s essentially in mourning for his entire life since reaching the island.  What he did was unequivocally wrong, and he knows it now… but it was all he had.)

“Children of the Gods”: Jonathan Willaway the Bitchy Primadonna who still doesn’t quite appreciate what the main characters are risking in bringing him along, but reveals some hidden depths by helping someone similarly misguided and much younger realize his mistakes and try to better himself.

(This episode is especially notable since it’s the first time we see that, while Jonathan is inevitably going to butt heads with any adult he comes across just for the sake of keeping his pride, he gets along surprisingly well with kids, despite his own protests to the contrary.  Scott is the first of the main cast who’s willing to be alone with him.  And while Jonathan’s invariably still either rude or dismissive to the adults in the party, when he’s talking to Ace and trying to talk him out of essentially making a bunch of other kids into child soldiers, listen to his voice during key moments.  It’s soft and measured, and there’s actual compassion in it.  Jonathan recognizes someone else who’s about to royally screw up his life and urges him not to.)

“A Dream of Conquest”: Jonathan the Willing Double Agent who actually helps of his own volition this time, gets a front row seat to the sort of cruelty he’s been trying to leave behind him, and gets smacked in the face with just how much he needs to come through for his new friends after all they’ve done for him.

(Here, Jonathan really gets a cold dose of just what kind of man he might have become if he’d stayed home—every second he’s in the company of this warlike dictator who treats his own people like cattle, you can tell that he hates it.  He actually says in the episode that he hates war and everyone who engages in it, but he’s now embroiled in someone else’s war for the sake of getting him and the main cast out of the battle zone with a whole skin.  And going along with the charade visibly erodes the others’ trust in Jonathan, which scares him to death because they’re now all he has.  He might be always “seeking better”, but he doesn’t have to look very far for it; without even realizing what it truly means, he’s willing to put his life on the line for the people he’s just now starting to consider friends.)

“An Act of Love”: Jonathan the…Friend?  Yeah, the Friend who’s actually starting to be integrated properly into the group and is now trusted to be able to save lives rather than risk them.

(Here, Jonathan doesn’t have quite as much to do, but it’s starting to become evident how much he’s actually become a part of the main cast rather than a glorified guest star.  He’s realizing that he actually cares about these people—he wants to see them happy and safe from danger, and he really feels Varian’s absence when it becomes less and less certain that he’ll stay with them.  And note how Fred, the conscientious doctor who was Jonathan’s most vocal enemy before now, puts him in charge of talking a woman out of letting herself be killed.)

“Funhouse”: Jonathan the Slave, having his new psychological scars taken advantage of by someone much more powerful and reduced to little more than a puppet his friends have to forcibly cut the strings of before it kills him.

(The Possession Episode ™ of any TV show, particularly when it’s played for horror instead of humor, can always be a little hard to watch because you’re basically watching a character have their mind and body violated by someone who, a lot of the time, is a complete stranger.  But I’m hard-pressed to think of an instance where it felt more like a man being sexually assaulted.  Jonathan is watched from afar and called “vulnerable”, but “perfect” right before he’s taken over, and it’s abundantly clear that it’s a painful and humiliating thing for him to go through, even as he struggles to take back control.  When it’s over, he admits that he can’t remember much of what happened, but what he does remember he’d rather forget.  This is the second time Jonathan’s put through the meat grinder now that he’s actively trying to be a better man, and it won’t be the last.)

“Turnabout”: Jonathan the Exploited, forced into action by a new, broken society that lets him watch his friends be tortured if he refuses to put his own life on the line and help fix it.

(This time, Jonathan doesn’t willingly volunteer to help this community reform from the inside—he’s shanghaied into it.  Either he puts himself at great personal risk by repairing a computer that’s taken a turn for the Hal 9000, or he gets to watch his friends slowly and painfully die with nothing he can do about it.  The scene where he’s shut in the opposite jail cell of Varian and Scott as they gradually succumb to poison is actually pretty harrowing, especially when he sees that Varian is doing everything he can to reduce Scott’s suffering—remember that these two were the first to truly accept Jonathan as part of their company.  Even when their captors change their minds and let them go, Jonathan isn’t so quick to forgive, saying that it isn’t the lack of compassion that truly bothers him, but the lack of justice since neither he, nor Varian and Scott did anything to deserve their punishment.)

“Riddles”: Jonathan the Frightened, faced with another near-death experience and the fear that no one is coming to save him, all the while actually being more concerned for his friends than his own safety.

(I did say that “Funhouse” wouldn’t be the last time Jonathan gets put through the meat grinder.  This time he’s not only nearly frozen to death trying to help the company find an artifact that could help them get home, but also shoved face to face with his own fear of enclosed spaces where no one can hear him yelling for help. He’d be forgiven for thinking that he’d be trapped there forever and actually says that he thought they’d never be able to find him.  But all the while, it’s not his own wellbeing Jonathan puts at the forefront.  He quickly regains his bearings both times and goes on as if nothing ever happened, ready to move on to whatever lies ahead for him and the company.  And again, his concern for Scott rears its head—notice the terror on his face when he’s told that Scott is also alone somewhere in this godforsaken house.)

“The Innocent Prey”: Jonathan the Neutral No Longer, first tempted to leave a city in need after finding what they need from it, then moved into staying and helping once he knows just how much it means to his friends.

(This episode can pretty much be a microcosm of Jonathan’s character arc throughout the series so far—first motivated primarily by selfishness, then softened into actual empathy once he realizes how much pain will remain if they walk away and do nothing.  His earlier credo that “it takes a thief to catch a thief” gets an ironic callback when he describes those kinds of people here as being bloodthirsty, cruel, and fundamentally untrustworthy.  And not for nothing, but the one who ends up appealing pretty thoroughly to his better nature?  Fred, who once hated Jonathan and still bickers with him incessantly.  In fact, Jonathan ends up preventing Fred from doing anything rash out of blind emotion and helps him to uncover the truth about a murder.)

What really makes this evolution effective is that, like all the great character arcs, Jonathan isn’t magically a new person on the other side.  He’s not perfect, and he’s never going to be—he’s still proud, impatient, sarcastic, cynical, a bit vain, sometimes thoughtless, and willing to tread a more morally grey zone than the others are.  But underneath all the obvious flaws is a more selfless, self-aware, and compassionate man than he was at the start, a man who sees the people around him as actual people rather than utilities and, when he sees his own faults in others, tries to help them overcome.  It’s honestly kind of inspiring to see, even for a campy ‘70s show. In the spirit of Jonathan always having a pithy quote to share in each episode, Marcus Aurelius once said, “Waste no more time arguing what a good man should be.  Be one.”  And he does just that.

[daehwifi]

HEADACHE . | DONG SICHENG

- admin xion

genre: fluff/angst  group/member: nct/dong sicheng (winwin) word count: 2, 114 requested: no side notes: dedicated to @nctonthephone ily sheila <3 here’s a gift in return for that cUTE JISUNG TEXT SCENARIO THAT I REQUESTED ALTHOUGH I WENT ON ANON MODE PAHAHAHAH // it’s a cliche scenario am sORRY I TRIED MY BEST BUBS IT’S SO BAD 

prompt:  when your soulmate isn’t around you, he/she gets a massive headache. the further the distance you are away from him, the more it hurts. 

you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear while puffing up your cheeks

the sketch you’ve been working on for the past hour wasn’t coming out as planned and you were disappointed in yourself of the outcome

you knew you could’ve done better and it defeated you, even more, knowing that you were forced to hand it in at the end of the period

despite all the compliments you friends had given you from the sketch, you were doubtful of their comments and had wished you could restart, receiving more time 

sadly, that was all in your head while reality hit you whilst submitting your assignment into the hand-in bin 

on top of your pitied defeat, your friends whom already found their soulmates were having the time of their lives clinging to one another arms and giggling 

you couldn’t blame them though, if they were to leave them, one would get a headache 

the headaches only apply to one person in the relationship, and it could possibly vary from time to time

being with them suddenly doesn’t just take away a headache 

a headache just lessens a lot, unless they make physical contact then the headache would go away fully 

you were left with a mixed feeling when it came to the topic of a soulmate

luckily, you weren’t the one in the relationship who’d grown a headache depending on the distance away from them

but unluckily, you knew that you were hurting someone if you were to take your luck carelessly 

to add on, you weren’t even sure on who it was 

you’ve lived in a constant loop of hearing your friends complain about their neighbor next door to only soon fall in love them with, while you were left on a constant cliff-hanger on your end

it’s come to the extent where you passed down opportunities to go to different countries, simply because you didn’t want to hurt your soulmate

oddly enough, you felt a strong connection to this person you didn’t even know, as though you were already in love with him

your classmate winced from the sudden pain she received from the paper cut while rushing to the teacher (mrs.joon) to get a band-aid

mrs.joon softly sighed to how inconsiderate she was and gave away her last band-aid 

she uttered a few words before realizing that she didn’t have enough band-aids to supply whomever would hurt themselves next and it bothered her 

you, finishing all the work early and simply just resting against the desk, was called upon to get a box of band-aids from the nurses office

you happily accepted (being bored as shit) and made your way there 

“sicheng! this is the 5th time you almost fainted in class and had to come here...” ms.hyo (the nurse) pitied while placing a wet cloth on his forehead

“is your soulmate really that far?” she softly queried 

of course, being a nurse in this soulmate world, you’d have to hear the excuse “my soulmate is too far” multiple times and be accepting towards it 

but she felt so bad for sicheng since he would constantly show up in the nurses office due to his major headaches and had even spent a night in there once  

“ms.hyo,” you spoke, interrupting the sentimental moment

yes, you did feel a bit bad but you didn’t want to wait around for 10 minutes for the perfect moment

the two of you were close anyways since you had a fragile body and spent majority if your first year in the nurses office 

she turned around on her stool and looked at you with a soft smile, raising one of her eyebrows

“i just need a box of band-aids. mrs.joon ran out in her classroom and- you know how she is with being prepared,” you uttered 

ms.hyo warmly nodded and rolled to a nearby cabinet on her stool

meanwhile, sicheng sat up from his bed and remove the cloth from his forehead

he looked a bit lost and rather confused

his head began to hurt less, but the pain was definitely there  

he licked his pale chapped lips, giving them color, and stared at the blank wall in front of him 

she handed you a large box consisting of band-aids and sent you off with a smile before her attention was drawn back towards sicheng 

“lay down! why are you getting up?” she blurted before sighing in defeat

you couldn’t help but notice sicheng’s eyes locking with yours 

the aroma he gave off wasn’t cold nor blunt, but rather soft and fragile 

his soft brown eyes and the way he pursed his lips together made you almost flustered 

his pale lips turned to a light pink that looked extremely kissable 

there was a feeling that lingered inside of you; light, fluffy and almost happy in a sense

but that soon faded away when ms.hyo lightly placed the wet cloth back onto his forehead and made him lay back down 

you left the room, closing the door behind, reminiscing about that foreign feeling 

your classes had been messed up for the next week 

due to renovations and the school slowly re-building itself, your classes had been moved around and you found yourself hanging out in an area you rarely visit

you sat with your friends whom welcomed you warmly, but they instantly went back to their conversation, out-casting you but not on purpose

“hey! how are you feeling?” you heard a group of guys spoke loudly behind you 

glancing behind yourself, you noticed it was that same boy from the nurses office

this time, he had a bright smile across his face, clearly feeling better  

“the headache died down a lot actually,” he announced with a sheepishly

the four boys nudged him around, teasing him whilst mentioning how “love is in the air” 

referring to his soulmate being close to him

you wondered if that was true on your end 

“seriously? your headaches are usually really bad though,” one spoke 

“yeah! you almost collapsed earlier too!” the other added 

you didn’t know why, but you felt guilty on the inside 

“it’s fine, really. i feel better right now and i can barely feel the pain,” sicheng explained 

you couldn’t help but admire his hair 

soft pink that almost matched the color of his lips 

why were you looking at his lips?

the color reminded you of what cherry blossoms looked like in the spring when the petals would fall to the ground 

when you noticed you had been staring for too long, you snapped out of it and your eyes averted away from the group 

“your soulmate must be near you!” another voice spoke happily 

you softly smiled to yourself, happy for sicheng

his head must hurt less due to his soulmate being near him

meanwhile, your heart only hurt more because you didn’t know where was your soulmate and if he had been hurting

your next few classes had been really odd, but you were thankful for it

you weren’t used too being in a classroom near sicheng 

especially since you’d see him in the outfit more often 

but why was that important to you?

your friends had pointed out that sometimes you’d zone out of their conversation and stare into his direction 

sometimes, your cheeks would get a little bit pink too when staring at him

and his smile made your heart melt so much 

what if he was your soulmate? 

after such longing, had you finally found him? 

or were you just falling in love with someone whose soulmate wasn’t you

luckily, you were able to interact with him through mutual friends 

you enjoyed hearing his awkward laugh

and day by day, you slowly began to admire his pink hair more and more 

his friends (that soon became your friends) would congratulate him every time he announced that his head was hurting less 

but they’d also mention that every time you left the room, his head would begin to feel like weights were being thrown at it

you nervously handed him a bottle of pain relievers you kept on you, along with a water bottle when you came across him in the cafeteria by himself

his head was in his hands and he looked like he was in pain 

the sudden sound of the pills rolling around in the bottle caused him to shoot up from his hands and look at you

“take those. should take some pain away from your h-head,” you mumbled shyly 

and there goes your heart rate 

sicheng shoved them away to the other side of the table and smiled warmly 

“i feel better now that you’re here,” he spoke softly

and there goes your cheeks 

“still, keep them on you! you can use them whenever you’re feeling pain,” you persisted 

sicheng softly smiled warmly before accepting the bottle of pain relievers

the next day had rolled around and another sigh escaped your lips in defeat 

doing club activities with your friends wasn’t a good idea either

you were the only single one of the group and felt like an outcast 

you knew their intentions of inviting you were good, but you couldn’t bear to blame them for not paying attention to you

this only made you realize that soulmates are really bounded to be together, but how come you couldn’t find yours? 

and how much pain had they been facing without you?

you decided to leave early and they seemed completely okay with that despite they gave a slight hint of sorrow 

aimlessly, you made your way to the nurses office to greet ms.hyo 

you had to kill time until the next period since you were supposed to help the club during this current period 

so it wouldn’t make sense if you just randomly went back to class, making it seem as though you were just skipping

but now, you’re actually just skipping 

there, laid sicheng on one of the beds 

his lips seemed to be more pale than yesterday 

he was curled up into a little ball, clenching his heart 

ms.hyo was nowhere to be found either

“are you okay?” you blurted out of concern

this was the first time you were alone in a room with him 

even in yesterday’s situation, there were students roaming around in the cafeteria and chatting

now, it was a simple quiet room with just the two of you

with sudden strength rushing through him, he jolted up from his bed and stared at you blankly

“y-yeah! my head just h-hurt a lot earlier,” he fretted nervously 

you nodded clueless and noticed his flaky lips 

sicheng noticed your eyes locked onto his lips, causing him to lick them out of natural habit

“my lips get chapped whenever i feel ill... it’s weird,” he explained

“his soulmate must have been far away from him” you thought inside your head

“here!  put this on your l-lips,” you replied, stuttering without knowing why 

you approached him whilst grabbing your chapstick from your pocket

you handed him the circular object and stared at him applying the material onto his lips 

they were slowly being given color while a light coat of gloss was added to his pink lips 

you didn’t seem to notice your pink cheeks while staring at them blankly  

“thanks,” he mumbled while handing you back the chapstick 

his fingers grazed yours quickly

but within that quick second, it was as though his headache went away

no- it definitely did go away

sicheng was sure of it 

he was slowly putting two and two inside his head while his eyes scattered the room

meanwhile, you saw that the conversation had died down and decided to sheepishly smile before leaving the room

and that’s when it sparked 

sicheng quickly grabbed your wrist and breathed heavily

he’s never done something as bold as this before, but he just couldn’t help himself 

clueless, you turned around and noticed how he was sitting up more straight now 

“s-stay!” he blurted out of the nowhere 

your cheeks flushed a bright pink that matched his hair color 

his grip on your wrist only got tighter, but it wasn’t hurting you at all 

he quickly blinked while his eyes still haven’t met yours 

but when they did, there was a look in them that you weren’t able to read

it was soft, a melting look that almost made you smile a bit

“my head doesn’t hurt at all when we’re like this,” he confessed softly

his hand slowly trailed down from your wrist to your hand 

you could feel his soft skin against yours

and without having any words to be said

you finally figured out who was your soulmate 

[kpopchangedme]

Capture the Flag: The Trade

Two teams, a lot of snow & a simple common goal. The only problem is that you’re on a losing streak and Jaebum, your nemesis, is way too good at this game...

GOT7 Masterlist

Protagonists: Im Jaebum & you

Word Count: 3.6k

Genre: SFW - Fluff - Enemies to Lovers - Highschool!AU - Inspiré par La Guerre Des Tuques

Lys’ note: Part of my VDay’ Collab for the @kpoptrashnetwork! Read @greasygyeom Yugyeom’s One Shot Capture The Flag: The Absconding!

In the middle of the white field of snow stands your old friend, Youngjae. His face is scrunched, whipped by the cold wind of the winter, if there were price to pay for not choosing a side it’d be that one; freezing to death. There’s absolutely no shelter from the bad weather in the neutral zone, the small flat ground separating the two enemy bases. Youngjae is still waiting to talk, trying to gather the attention of everybody across the playground, even though he’ll fail like always. You wiggle expectedly from one foot to the other, partly to not let your toes freeze, but also because you’re especially anxious today.

Nobody really knows how this all started, only that it’s been a school tradition between students for years; two teams, two elected Captains, a referee, a list of rules and two flags. Both teams spend weeks of winter building a snow stronghold, working on their strategies and praying for the weather to be on their side. Then comes the final week of the game; four evenings after school without adult supervision where the two teams face off with everything they’ve got.

“Captain Im is still staring at you, y/n.” Mark leans closer, nudging you with his elbow. “Try to not move around so much, perhaps he won’t notice how nervous you–”

“It’s freaking -15ºC, Tuan. Maybe if you thought harder about your strategies instead of studying where Jaebum is looking, you’d be able to beat Jinyoung at it for once!”

“Ouch, I’m hurt.” Mark touches his coat where his heart hides under, chuckling. “I don’t think my strategies are what’s causing our losing streak you know… I’m starting to believe your heart isn’t really in it!”

Gasping at the implication, you feel your cheeks heat behind the secrecy of your scarf. “Shut up!” You scowl and Mark laughs, only amused by your perpetual anger. He’s been bringing this up a lot these days, always teasing you about your rival. “As if, Jaebum’s the enemy and he’s an assh–”

“No fight within the teams!” Youngjae points to you both, raising his voice so everybody can hear. Your eyes catch a smile on Jaebum’s face at the other side of the playground and you curse him under your breath.

Today is the day you win; you’ll wipe that smug off his perfect face.

Im Jaebum. Your nemesis, the Captain of the Blue team. If he were Achilles, you’d be Hector and tonight; the battle of your life.

“Is everybody already here?” Youngjae clears his throat and both teams purposefully ignore him as always. “Great! Before beginning, let me remind you all one last time; no weapons are allowed on site!” There’s a collective groan from the two small crowds. “No fireworks this time! Snow and your open hands are your only tools, did you hear me Bambam?!” Youngjae sighs, discouraged. “That being said; we’ll proceed as always. You have to wear your hat from your team’s colour at all time! Each team will go back to its castle and its flag and you’ll only be allowed to leave when you hear my siren... If I see somebody trying to cross the neutral zone bef–”

“We get it! Everyday’s the same!”

“Thanks for the unnecessary intervention Jackson, but there’s no interrupting the referee!” Youngjae shakes his head, like his role is unbearable and you roll your eyes at his lack of authority. “Anyway, after the siren, you are free to leave your castle to invade the other team’s. The first team to successfully secure the other’s flag and bring it back to its own castle wins the battle! For the last fight of the year, the score is…” Youngjae pauses dramatically and you clench your teeth, annoyed. “3 – 0 for the Blue Team!”

There’s an uproar on the enemy’s side of the field while Red team stays quiet behind you. You stare at Jaebum’s silhouette as he proudly raises both arms under a thunder of claps, muffled by mittens. Show-off.

“Red team”, you growl, “I don’t care what it takes to defeat those jerks. Tonight, they’ll see RED!” There’s a loud racket of approval accompanying your words. Your teammates even begin to energetically jump, the sound of their boots on the solid snow reverberating through the air. Across the field, the smug on Jaebum’s lips straightens, usual arrogance cooled a bit by the high spirits of your troops. That’s right Im, you’d better prepare for a damn war. Your lips curl upwards, a new confidence warming your body; Red team would never go down without a mighty fight.

You barely avoid a chunk of ice flying near you by rolling on the ground and let out an angry hiss through your clench teeth. Ice is supposed to be prohibited, but amid a fight with snow flying all over the place, it’s hard to prove the throw was voluntary. Plus, you’re attacking the north facade of the Blue’s snow fort and Youngjae is monitoring the neutral zone where most people usually fight, which is south from here. The north facade isn’t usually guarded since it’s near the end of the playground, on the outskirts of the woods, and all entries to the Blue stronghold are facing the neutral zone. Still, a few enemies followed your troop there, probably suspicious you were on a special mission or something. They are right, but it’s part of Mark’s scheme. Around you, boys from all ages are fighting, pushing and throwing; your teammates are doing a great job creating a diversion.

The enemies don’t even give you a second glance; the girl attempting to climb the 7 feet ice wall. You usually go unnoticed, that’s partly why you were chosen for the special mission. In an almost all boys’ competition, you’d think they would give the only two girls playing a little attention, but they ignore you both and let you do what you want. Except Jaebum, that jerk is always picking a fight with you. For once, he’s probably fighting someone else at your own castle at this very moment.

As for the only other girl, she’s from Blue Team and a complete mystery to you. She’s a real danger though, they say she has a mind of her own and is a total badass. So far today, she’s nowhere to be seen, it’s worrisome but you can’t think about her. Right now, all your efforts are put in the endeavor that is the escalade of the ridiculously high fortification of the Blue fort. Seriously, how did they even successfully build that thing? No wonder the Red haven’t got a single win yet! Their stronghold is almost impenetrable this year. Jinyoung, their strategist, probably worked on the plans all Fall, he’s way too invested in the game, even more than you or Jaebum. The climb would be a nearly impossible challenge for anyone else, that’s why their walls aren’t guarded, but you aren’t anyone. Only Mark knew you spent all your summers climbing mountains all over the country with your father. That’s the other reason why you were chosen for the invasion today, put your skills to good use.

When you finally reach the edge of the fort, you throw both legs inside, not bothering to look to see if there’s an opponent. Down on the ground of the Blue’s castle, you lower your scarf under your chin to make your breathing easier and recover. You’re already all wet from the physical effort. There’s three openings in the huge fort, but they’re heavily guarded. They’ve been keeping the same defense strategy all week; four guys by each door while every other player is on the field. The whole point of your mission is to sneak in without a physical fight, Red has been failing all aggressive invading attempts these past days. You reach the center of the fort without any encounters, just like Mark predicted, the enemies are all out attacking your own castle.

You must hurry to grab their flag and go back before they succeed in stealing yours. You believe in your teammates back at the fort, but they can only push the Blue invaders back for so long before someone slips in and catch it. Mark is with most of your team, taking care of the defense of your Red banner. While Jaebum team’s usually opting for many strong attacks, yours voted for a defensive strategy with a single attacking troop for the last game; you and the diversion guys causing chaos outside. Tonight, things are looking great, the hard part is done, you’re now in the center of the rival stronghold, completely alone. Getting out with the banner will be easy since they won’t be expecting the enemy to come from inside their castle.

Wait a second, where’s the Blue flag? You freeze, looking at the empty lonely pole in the middle of the circular ice room. It’s not here. The flag is to never leave its original fort expect for the capture, it’s one of the rules! There’s no way someone from your team already stole it, the plan–

“Not on the defense duty today?” A boy you hadn’t spotted earlier walks out of one of the corridor in front of you, leisurely, almost teasing. He’s around 16 years old with sharp eyes and wears a blue hat pushed so far down you can barely see his eyebrows.

“Jaebum”, you groan, irritated. “Looks like we actually switched roles.” He nods, taking a step to the right and you mirror him. You’re both used to meeting like this, since Jaebum’s his own strongest attacker while you usually assume the defense of your flag. The situation appears to be reversed for the last game, maybe it’s something like faith. You’re destined to fight each other, only tonight; you’ll win. Find his weakness – Achilles heel – make sure his arrogance is his own undoing.

“Well”, he cocks his head contemptuously and you just know he’s smirking under his scarf, “I’m glad, I was a bit sad when I thought about not seeing your pretty face today…”

“Shut up”, you’re both slowly tracing circles in the room, walking around the pole in the center. “Where’s the flag, dickhead?” Jaebum laughs at your insult, the sound making your skin crawl.

“Dickhead? Tst!” He takes a step forward and you back up by reflex, colliding with the ice wall. “The flag hasn’t leave my fort –” Jaebum throws his hands to the sides, gesturing the whole empty place. “You know I love to live by the rules…”

Grimacing, you study him anew; he’s wearing a simple black coat with snow pants of the same color and a scarf is covering most of his face. There’s only one place he would hide it; under his clothes. It’s nothing new, the Blue Team used that technique very often last year, back when Chansung was still in school and their elected chief.

“I guess I’ll have to come get it then.” Jaebum frowns at your confidence, uncertainty passing on his features for the second time today.

“I know you, y/n! You wouldn’t da–” He never gets to finish this sentence, because in no time, you’re jumping on him. The boy lets out a muffled grunt when the air is expelled out of his lungs and you both fall on the cold ground. “Are you nuts?”

Right now, you don’t care what it looks like. The Red team needs a win, you won’t go down in school’s history as the first female Captain with absolutely no win for your first winter. You’re sitting on top of him, trying to shove his zipper down while Jaebum’s wiggling, panicking under you. His reaction’s off; if he hid it under his coat, he should have expected somebody would try to steal it. The struggle is draining; there’s nothing quite as exhausting as wrestling in snowsuits. You’re almost thankful when Jaebum shifts his weight to flip you both and cages you between his knees.

“God, you’re heavy!” He fails to avoid your elbow flying to his head and you accidentally shove his scarf down, uncovering his face. “Hey! That’s an illega– humpf” Jaebum winces when your fist finds his stomach, although the hit is mostly absorbed by his layers of clothing.

“I’m not heavy, you asshole!” You’re about to hit him again, but he grabs both of your hands, pining them above your head.

“I know you want a win...” Jaebum pants, tired from the struggle. “But if you hit me again, girl… I swear, I won’t hold b–”

Without warning, you jump, pushing your hips away from the ground and trying to make him fall off you. You successfully destabilize him, but instead of using the opportunity to wiggle away, you’re completely frozen still. Jaebum may not have been expecting your hip thrust, but you definitely weren’t expecting his sudden proximity. To keep the upper hand and his balance, he lowered himself on you. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your cheek and see every single one of his dark eyelashes perfectly.

“What are you doing?” You wiggle, uncomfortable and trying to free your hands from his. If he were a gentleman, he’d let you go, but instead he holds the position, staring at you with his eyelids lazily half closed.

“Holding you down with my body.” His voice is hushed, so low it feels like he’s telling a secret. “Enjoy every second of this honey, you made me do it.” Your original confusion turns to anger at the pet name and you glare at him threateningly.

“Get off!” For a second, you still and he hesitates, seemingly pondering.

“I thought you wanted my flag.” Jaebum chuckles and hot air brushes your face. Despite yourself and the freezing weather, you shudder treacherously, body catching fire and cheeks tinting red.

“Well, there’s no way you’re giving me that…” You hate yourself for it, but when you murmur, without really meaning to, you glance at his mouth.

You’ve never been this close to a boy, let alone actually kiss one. Even if you’re fighting, this feels somewhat intimate. Jaebum lips seem so close, soft and intriguing. Blushing, you blink, trying to erase your thoughts and he shifts his weight, pressing you down on the cold ground even more. Jaebum exhales slowly, taking a moment to look around the empty room like he’s searching for somebody.

You can hear the screams mixed with laugher from the game raging on outside the fort. It’s only a question of time before one of his teammates comes in and finds you both like that. It’d be horribly humiliating, people would misread the whole situation. Jaebum has quite a heartbreaker reputation in school, he’d brush it off and laugh, but you couldn’t. You’re the one who’s the best at everything she tries, the one who intimidates the boys, you’re the first girl to be elected Captain of the Red Team; you don’t lose to anyone. Not even freaking Im Jaebum. That’s why this week of games has been hellish and you’re probably just losing your mind because of this arrogant jerk.

“I-I don’t know... I might.” When Jaebum looks back at you, you stop breathing.

“W-what?” You gulp and he chuckles again, glancing at your parted lips.

“We both have something the other wants”, he clears his throat, taking a more formal tone, “I’m proposing a secret trade.” You raise a brow with skepticism; you have absolutely nothing that Jaebum would need. “Captain to Captain.” He adds, lips curling upwards.

“Anything.” You breathe out and his expression flickers between shock and incredibility for a moment. He hadn’t realized you’d take the deal. “I really need that flag.” You need more than the Blue flag; you need to bring it back to your fort too. You need the Red Team to score one point, just one. Blue Team would still win this year’s games, but Red’s reputation would be saved. Now it’s a question of honor.

“Anything?” There’s a new longing to his voice and you hold his gaze, anxiety and perhaps something foreign growing in your stomach. You nod slowly, barely able to move as Jaebum licks his lips and glances at yours again, eyes feverish.

Maybe you’re not the only one losing your mind.

Is Im Jaebum about to kiss me? Why would he trade something as precious as a flag for that? The school heartthrob and you; it makes absolutely no sense. It’s supposed to be Red versus Blue, not Red making out with Blue. You’re both sworn enemies, this is wrong. Mark would never let you live if he found out you had your very first kiss with the infamous Im Jaebum. Still, against all better judgement, you close your eyes, waiting for something to happen. You hope you didn’t misunderstand him, you’d looked so foolish right now. Jaebum’s breath seems to creep on your cheek forever before his lips brush yours.

Right there, on the floor of the enemy’s castle, nothing so wrong has ever felt more right.

His kiss is delicate, gentle and short. He pulls back, but you stay still, eyes shut and toes curled tight, too timid to act. Jaebum chuckles lowly before leaning into you again, this time releasing your hands to rest on his elbows more comfortably.

The second kiss quickly evolves in something else, dangerous; annihilating space and time. You move too, molding into him in response and you both seem to forget yourselves. This is why people kiss so much, you think as you begin to question reality; this sensation is both blissful and alarming. Jaebum’s lips part, tongue testing your mouth. You allow him access, without really knowing how, but craving the taste of him. He explores you as you wrap yourself tighter around him, losing it.

You want more. Your tongue finds his, gently fighting and teasing it until a sound dawns in Jaebum’s chest. It’s another new discovery, an instinctive vibration that reverberates to your bones, something rough but delightful, savage but formidable. Another wrong that’s nothing but exquisitely right. You feel him smirk his usual stupid grin in your mouth, but for once you don’t mind. You want to hear him make that sound again, want to reexperience that vibration in him on your chest, without layers of clothing between your bodies.

Unfortunately, Jaebum pulls back panting like when you wrestled earlier. Fighting in snowsuit might be arduous but making out is even harder. He sits back in awe, finally getting off and releasing you. As you stand up too, still shaken up, you find the lack of him even worse than being trapped. Avoiding your gaze, he opens his coat and reaches under his sweater. He retrieves the folded precious navy flag and hands it to you with both hands, almost ceremoniously. You blush taking it, if you weren’t wearing giant gloves, you’d probably feel the warmth of his body lingering on it.

Jaebum clears his throat. “Remember that the trade must absolutely stay secret.” His words, spoken candidly, almost knock the air out of your chest. Of course, he’s ashamed he kissed you, he’s Jaebum and you’re y/n! Still, he’s the one who initiated the trade; the flag for a kiss. It wasn’t your idea.

“You think I’d boast about making a pact with the Devil? Trading a kiss for a win?” His face falls and he narrows his eyes. Already, you’re regretting your words. You don’t know much to relationships, but you’re pretty sure you shouldn’t let something fake, like this whole competition, taint something that felt as real as that kiss.

“Wow, who’s acting like an asshole now?” Jaebum frowns and you open your mouth to apologize, but he goes on: “I just meant that we’d get into trouble if people found out. Youngjae might not be a scary arbiter, but I assure you Jinyoung is terrifying. He’d never leave me alone if he knew I gave you this.”

“I’m sorry…” You nod, thinking about Mark and the rest of your Red teammates. They didn’t elect you Captain to make out with the enemy. You blush, embarrassed by your actions.

“But since you brought it up, we haven’t determined clearly what I get from this trade…” He closes the space between you, pushing until you’re trapped between the ice wall and his body. “You say I’m the Devil…”  You swallow when he leans in slowly, chills spreading on your whole body but not from the cold. He licks his lips again and you shut your eyes, expecting him to kiss you. Instead, Jaebum wet lips brush your ear, right where your red hat ends, and he blows softly, making you shiver. “Then I’ll be back to claim your soul next time.”

Your eyes shot open when he bursts out laughing, backing away. You smile, watching his eyes crease cutely. You get his reputation now; the Captain of Blue Team is deliciously handsome when he’s smiling and not being a jerk. After all, even Achilles was famous for his charming ways. A sudden profusion of loud screams outside catch your attention back and Jaebum groans, annoyed. Seems like your diversion is still ongoing.

“I believe that’s your cue; shouldn’t you make a run for it?”

You nod, looking around to plan your getaway. You’re conscious the deal was to give you the flag – not to ease your escape – but still, he points to one of the three ice corridors leading to an exit. You don’t even hesitate for second before deciding on this route, choosing to trust your occasional sworn enemy. You smile at Jaebum one last time, finally turning away and running to flee his fort. You just know you’re going to grin all the way to the Red Team’s ice fortress.

Perhaps you really traded your soul for a win after all.

GOT7 Masterlist

[bynkii]

It’s all right there

(originally published on 18 Nov. 2015)

If only you’d look to the side once in a while

Somewhat odd fact: I’ve never been really anywhere outside of the U.S. Not that I’m anti-travel, it just seemed to never work out. I mean, I’ve been to Toronto, spent a summer in Mississauga with my cousin Diane and her family, and technically went near Nassau on a night-time cruise, but I was so obliterated that I don’t know if I left the boat.

I was in the Air Force, but at a B-1B base in the mid-80s to early-90s, and so we didn’t really even start going overseas for air shows and exercises until I was fixing to separate. Then came a marriage and a kid and it kind of just never happened. Which I do think is a shame, but I can’t say I’ve not done anything cool, I just did it all…here.

This came up because I was talking to a good friend of mine, N., who is much smarter and well-traveled than I, (and for a Cali transplant, still understands why Waffle House is amazing.) I was commenting how a mutal acquaintance, who is my age, seems to have just woken up to the reality that non-honkies in the U.S. have very different lives than honkies do. I said I didn’t get how someone could be as well-traveled as he is, (he has literally traveled the globe) and still be so…blind…to the world outside of his somewhat narrow set of interests. This legitimately puzzled me until N. explained it.

She said, (paraphrased) that if you’re traveling on business, to a conference or on a book tour or what have you, that it’s easy. You get off the plane and go to the hotel. Which is probably a Marriot or other chain, and where the club sandwich in Tokyo is exactly like the club sandwich in Des Moines. You are driven to where you need to be when you need to be there, you go out after to a restaurant, maybe a bar that is tourist-friendly, and then back to the hotel. After a few days, home you go. Maybe you take a day for being a tourist, but you’re going to do fairly standard stuff.

You do that enough, and there’s no difference between anywhere.

I can’t argue her point, I literally don’t know, but it struck me as sad. To be somewhere totally different, but wrap yourself in a cocoon of home, like some kind of odd warp bubble.

Because while I’ve never really left the U.S., there’s always been this “walkabout” impulse. I probably got it from my mom, who as a single woman, lived in Tokyo immediately following WWII for some years, (and evidently spent enough time near Hiroshima to come home rather sick for more than a few months), and then in the 50s and 60s, literally traveled everywhere in this country where a train would go. I’ve pictures of her in D.C., at Gettysburg, Monticello, San Francisco, you name it.

In an era where being an independent woman was somewhat frowned upon, she was independent. Mind you, she never learned to drive. This was all public transit and trains.

My dad helped too, he’d been in Japan & Korea in the early 50s, trying not to die during a war, and getting into marvelous trouble in Japan on leaves and furloughs.

One of his better stories, one that fascinated me was about how he and his friends would go to a restaurant in either country, and just blindly order. Whoever got the ugliest dish paid. He thought he was safe when a friend got the squid. Until a WHOLE OCTOPUS, eyes and all, broiled in its own ink was placed in front of him.

That always seemed like the coolest thing: go to a restaurant you’ve never been and just order something. How cool a way to learn new food? Sometimes, you get the octopus, sometimes you get amazing malaysian food. Amazing wins over OMG WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT more than you might think. Food is a great introduction to different cultures.

As I’ve mentioned, I grew up in Miami. My family moved down in 1970, and I didn’t really leave until 1986, when I joined the Air Force. I was there for some shit. Mariel, Liberty City, Murder Capital of the world, Cocaine Cowboys, (I still can’t really watch “Scarface”. Because too much of that movie isn’t some gorefest story, it’s what was happening in my world. There’s not a lot of exaggeration there), all of it.

It’s easy to fall into the tropes. Miami’s a pit, it’s a crimefest, it’s nothing but Cubans. But that’s the saddest way to look at it. Because Miami showed me so many things. ¿Qué Pasa USA? Pastelitos. Pecadillo. A properly made Cuban sangwich. The smell of the wall of ovens baking Cuban bread in an Imperial Supermarket just off 8th Street and Salzedo. The bizarre joy that was the Bed Race. Goombay, where I discovered a host of carribean food and music. Tito Puente. Gloria Estefan before she was Gloria Estefan. Guava. Flan. Materva. The Red Room. The Kitchen. Coconut Grove when there were still more hippies than hipsters. The Friday night Hare Krishna Drum Party in Coconut Grove, where you’d have a hundred people dancing along with the Krishnas and they would just play their asses off. The guy who sold small crabs and palmetto bugs dipped in gold.

It’s actually hard for me to talk about Cuban Culture like it’s some separate thing, because I grew up in it. I’m not Cuban, not even close, but that culture was a part of my youth and my adolescence. It’s not “other people’s” culture. It’s a part of me as much as it can be. You grow up in Miami, your first concert is P-Funk, it’s hard to live in The Honkie Zone™.

Here’s an example of how it affected me. One day, after I’d gotten out of the Air Force, my boss takes me to a Cuban place in Pinellas Park, La Terecita. (AmazingCuban food, BTW.) The waitress seats us, sees we’re a table of superhonkies, and gives us menus. With the food in english. I literally had no idea what any of it was, because you order Cuban food in spanish. What the fuck other language even makes sense? So I ask the waitress, when she returns, “Is there a spanish menu? I don’t know what any of this is in English.”

She looks at me and asks “Where you from?” I tell her Miami, she laughs and says “Okay baby, let me get you the menu.” (If you know what a Cuban accent sounds like, then you get more of the picture.) She comes back with a Spanish one, aka a real one, and at last, I can order my Picadillo y maduros y Materva. Fuck me, english, what use is that?

You also never understand why people are puzzled at children drinking coffee, because you start kids on cafe con leche as soon as they’re off the tit. I mean it. Non-Miamians don’t really get how central Cuban coffee is to life down there. Water is minor, cafecitos are critical.

As a kid in Miami, this was my “community pool”, Venetian Pool. It’s an old limestone quarry converted to a pool. To be able to use the diving boards, you had to swim across the pool without stopping, watched by the lifeguards. That was what turned you from a little kid to a big kid. Swimming is a necessity, because half your elementary school field trips are to the beach. Yeah, yeah, education, starfish, the stingray shuffle. I’m still convinced it was how the teachers wangled free midday beach time. As they should.

Some places brag about how you can watch the sun rise and set over the ocean by just walking a few miles. In Miami, on the highway out to Key Biscayne, you could do that just by turning around. Then there’s Stiltsville, and a not-long drive away, things like Pennekamp and Key West. Along with treasures now gone, like Ocean World, and Miami Marine Stadium, where you could see unlimited hydroplanes, and watch concerts with the stoners on rafts in the middle.

I was also there for https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurricane_Andrew. My biggest memory of that is just after the hurricane, when shit is still fucked up and Gloria Estefan, who unlike most celebrities, grew up in Miami, and is a hometown girl, holding a benefit in the Orange Bowl, to raise money to help folks out. It’s kind of fucked up, power is still wonky, she is a bit of a sweaty mess, (we all were), and yet there she is, singing “Coming Out of the Dark”, and somehow, everything was going to be okay. Gloria Estefan will always be okay in my book for that.

I don’t think you can grow up with my parents in that town and not look to the side every so often. Or all the time. And it helped me see, not just the bloody obvious truth, like the lives lived different of non-honkies in this country, but all the things.

Like driving between base and town in Grand Forks on highway 2, happy to be off early, (at 2am) and it’s one of those snowstorms where it’s not a blizzard, but the flakes are coming down big, wet and noisy. You can actually hear them hit, and as I come around a curve, there’s this explosion of light, and two two trucks pulling a semi out of the ditch. As Toccata & Fuge in D Minor is blasting in my Civic. Pipe organ version, of course. There is something perfect about that, along with Bach at 2am during another snowfall in the middle of nowhere.

Or another night, same highway, same time of day, only it’s summer, and there’s this flash of light and a roar I only hear because my windows are down, and as I look up, I see a metor blasting through the sky overhead, on fire, big trail of smoke. I pull right the fuck over because if it hits, fuck yeah, i’m gonna get a piece. (No, the obvious downsides didn’t occur to me, because ROCK FROM SPACE.) It burned up completely before it hit, but I got to see it.

You look to the side, and you find things. Like malaysian restuarants in Kansas City. Or how, in Biloxi, just outside of Keesler AFB, if you and your friends go to the same Chinese place enough, and keep ordering “something with beef, something with pork, something with chicken, and surprise us” enough, eventually the family that runs it starts making you the non-gweilo versions of things. Or that there’s a fantastic Dim Sum place not a half-block from the Moscone in S.F., an amazing cajun place in Knob Knoster, MO, and one of the best southern restaurants ever is near Binghampton, NY, (THEO’S4LYFE!)

You see things that other folks miss. Like a tango club performance in Union square, where the guy in his 70s is shaming all the younger men. Because he may be old and slow everywhere else, but he is the Tango grandmaster and the youngin’s best just step back, this is his show.

Walden Pond. It’s not just where Thoreau lived, (with lots of help from his friends. He may have wrote about self-reliance, but he was not so good at practicing it) it’s a place. It’s a swimmin’ hole. Kind of cold, but very beautiful, and a great place to take slow walks with friends. The whaling museum in Peabody. Realizing that on multiple occasions, a pre-fame/pre-Gaiman Amanda Palmer made you milkshakes and sundaes (and she was very good at it.)

You become best friends with everyone in a ten-meter radius at a crawfish festival, because you just can’t suck head, and so you give away heaping plates full of the nasty things to anyone within reach. For this, you get a lot of free beer. Some years later, at Bad Medicine Lake in MN, you gorge on the biggest crawfish you’ve ever seen, (LOBSTER-SIZED) because people up there think they’re gross, and the bottom of the lake is covered with them. It is totally worth the hypothermia you risk, and pissing off a plethora of plastered, pulchritudinous sorority sisters because if they reject crawdads, they can’t be worth your time.

You meet people who aren’t like you, and learn at a young age, just how full of shit you are, and maybe you should fix that. You pick up foul words in multiple languages, (profanity starts both fights and friendships. Often simultaneously.) You learn that the “stripper paying her way through college” isn’t just a trope, and she amazes you both with her pole work and her analysis of pre-Revolutionary War America.

You discover, if you’re open to it, that there are amazing people everywhere in all walks of life, doing all kinds of jobs you aren’t, and they are just fascinating. That there are former adult stars on Twitter who build amazing models of Star Wars ships from metal because that’s what they do, when they aren’t losing their minds over the San Jose Sharks or making beautiful art. They talk about their work too, and that’s even neat because you learn about the behind the scenes stuff. “Inside baseball” is fucking fascinating when it’s about porn. (Ed. note: this person checked out a few years ago. I genuinely miss her, and presence on Twitter.)

You learn that two authors you admire who have become friends have forgotten more about food and culture than you’ll ever know. You learn the history of Switzerland that’s about just how terrifying the Swiss are, “…I’m from Northern Ireland, I don’t do well with unannounced gunfire.”, and that a description of dinner eating between two members of old Russian Royalty can be far, far more…intense than any non-porn writing has a right to. (Seriously, hie thee to wherever you can find them, and read all of “Tales of Old Russia” by Peter Morwood. DESCRIPTIONS OF DINNER SHOULD NOT HAVE THAT EFFECT ON PEOPLE.)

Actually, if you see anything with either Peter or Diane Duane as authors or co-authors, just read it. Trust me on this.

It’s not hard to see the world as it is, good and bad, awesome and terrifying. You don’t even have to leave the country. You just have to look around every so often.

[reyintherain]

On Amilyn Holdo's perspective and her perception by the audience

There've been discourse floating around dislike for Amilyn's character for the reason she isn't a positive, 'good guy' enough character, and honestly why should she? She isn't perfect, but since when every character has to be (including in the franchise so dear to our hearts)? Holdo makes mistakes, and that’s the point of the entire film that everyone does. I get why Poe and Leia’s dynamic can be more favourable, because their relationship is more affectionate, plus Leia is more open with Poe, Poe has Leia’s respect and trust, and vice versa. Holdo, on the other hand, is a dark horse with her own plan how to move chess pieces. She isn't going to reveal the cards to just about everyone (and Poe falls into that category for her), and honestly that's fantastic. By adding a previously unknown character, we've got a chance to explore dynamics between commanders and subordinates we didn't see before (c'mon it cannot be all fluff even inside the Resistance/Rebellion, however warm and welcoming of a family they are). I might be in a minority, but it's rather boring to perpetually follow a perfectly bonded, everyone on the same page, good, perfect guys type of group the Resistance, or the Rebellion for that matter, have been. (I heard there is more room for factions in TV shows/books, but I haven't seen them, and go by the movies.) Even that brief scene in Rogue One with the Alliance not able to come to common ground was a bit of a breather, but it's nowhere near the potential there is. To see conflict and tension in the Resistance for as much as in TLJ, to see cinnamon rolls Resistance fighters thrown off their comfort zone is not bad writing. It's a development they need. And Vice Admiral Holdo isn't here to simply be a substitute Leia either. She is her own character, like it or not.

As an audience, we spend more time with Poe’s character. It’s easy to get sucked in into his perspective that Amilyn doesn’t need to know their (Rose and Finn's) plan. However, so does Amilyn, who being in charge with the survival of the Resistance – it’s not even a question of putting up a fight, it’s about survival at the moment – does her best to ensure that. Just because we don’t see her internal reasoning process, unlike we see Poe’s, doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a plan, or doesn't know what she's doing. But in the eyes of the audience, we might as well question and dislike her, the way our familiar character does.

Poe actually has a line that I think can perfectly apply to Holdo's rationale regarding him. When 3PO objects that Admiral Holdo wouldn’t like the tractor beam plan, Poe says something along the lines ‘This is a need-to-know situation, and she doesn’t need to’. If that isn't Holdo's reasoning regarding Poe, then I don't know what is. For all she knows, he fucked up big time with the bombing fleet, lost a ton of people, proven himself impulsive and disobedient in a time of war. Literally, he is the last thing they need in the eyes of a rational, calculating commander (unless to fuck shit up with an x-wing, but they don’t even have any left). Heck, even Leia demoted him, for all affection and trust she has for Poe. So why would Holdo trust him? Her job is to oversee the Resistance; she has other pressing issues at the moment than dealing with a hothead who doesn't listen and thinks he knows better.

It's been pointed out that their conflict could've been resolved if they just talked and shared, if Amilyn just told Poe she had a plan. But the point is that she doesn't. That’s her right, and her mistake, that combined with Poe's restless, inability to step back, and open mouth cost the Resistance so much. (For all my affection to Poe, he's the one who let out the escape plan to Finn and Rose who were with a shady codebreaker they just met. Yes, they didn't know what kind of fruit he is, and that's perhaps their naivety too. Poe didn't mean to hand the escape pods to the First Order, but it all went south in the worst possible way. It fucking happens, and is the point.)

Holdo sharing her plans with Poe would not only undermine the arc Poe goes onto (and Finn, having seen DJ buying a way out with that intel), but rob the universe and us, viewers, of a new, different character and a type of commander. We've already seen a commander who shares with Poe and Finn (namely, Leia, bless her), so why repeat? For better or worse, Rian went with this storyline, I would guess to give Poe another challenge where he isn't on top of everything, and has to work with a commanding officer who isn't as affectionate of him as Leia. Oh, Amilyn is affectionate of him too in some way (very clear way, if you ask me). Both she and Leia like Poe, despite difficult time he gives them, understand where he is coming from, and want him to learn to see beyond a cockpit, as Leia aptly put it (mostly Leia for the latter, though I don't think Amilyn would mind Poe learning a thing or two and quitting trashing her bridge.)

I also get why some are unhappy with Amilyn's characterization and arc: a character appearing out of nowhere, bosses around and apparently knows better, is a bit cold and distant, butts heads with Poe (though man, the way she fucking eats him alive...), and in the end turns to be friends with Leia all this time, and sacrifices herself in the name of Rebellion? It can be hard to swallow a new character like that who isn't here to entertain (though it speaks of more the audience rather than the character themselves) and then see them go within the same film, though personally I rather liked Holdo, and can see her less roundness as a character as a consequence of a huge cast of characters with a lot of strands and themes to pull off.

Amilyn is a character who adds rather than takes away from Star Wars and inner Resistance workings. Honestly, it's amazing we have such different women in The Last Jedi. I would've loved to see more of her, but like a spark, she shone bright and went out with a bang.

[aramat-mayhem-hub]

Default Verse

Since obviously I should do this... So let’s talk about all the default versions of the characters on this blog. Since that’s important. So yeah.

I’ll do them in order of their sort of Priority I guess... Or something, I don’t know. Anyway.

Halfa Mechanic: The default verse is relatively obvious, Arthur has been a half-ghost for just over three months. Things have settled down fairly well, but Arthur is still learning how to really be a ghost. He tends to travel through the ghost-zone fairly freely, and is still rather childish since he hasn’t stabilized on the emotional side of things.

His default response to any alternates of himself is just to kind of roll with it. His responses to any Vivis and Lewises will depend heavily on how he meets them. For the most part though, he will always be excited to see Vivi, and depending on if Lewis is more human appearing or not, he’ll either be very puppyish and eager to share some new “trick” he’s learnt or a bit more wary and nervous.

Officer Paranormal: The Default for Officer John is as a recognized Officer of whichever local police that the thread needs him to be. And on the other side of things, he’s relatively well known by the Paranormal, since he’s able to interact with and see it. He can either be pretty casual, or much more anxious about things depending on why he is where he is. If he’s off the clock, he’ll typically be more willing to roll with things though.

Depending on the muse, I don’t mind characters from a more paranormal setting recognizing him as “that one officer”... whether from a previous case of their own design, or just from his paranoid reputation from the station. While he is generally respected, he is recognized as the Officer who’s something of a conspiracy theorist after all.

Childish Crown: Cheraphian’s default verse is them as a ghost. They have been dead for years, they wouldn’t even be able to give an accurate time-frame because a good chunk of it was stuck in a time-loop under the control of an eldritch creature calling itself a God of Time. They spend most of their time wandering around looking for their brother, and most of their interactions will default to they don’t know who you are, and aren’t really interested in finding out either...

Pteranadon Punk & Stego Star: Both of their verses are by default set either just after the events of the series, or during the events of the series. And honestly there isn’t much more that I can really say. Their default is pretty vanilla.

Official Cloneboy: Oh joy! Time for my funnest default! First of all, I generally default all of my DP style muses as being pretty post-canon with Phantom Planet being treated as a dream that Danny might have had once, and so if anything from the episode were to be mentioned, Dennis would be very much confused. But also, Dennis is an outsider, but he was hidden by default for the rest of the series, although he might have peeked out during D-Stabilized... but ymmv.

Defaultly, he is jealous of Danielle, and conflicted over Danny. Although, it’s up to the various muns whether their muses would actually know Dennis. I default as “by reputation only”. Dennis knows that Dani is the clone before him, the only other surviving clone, and he is also aware that she escaped. He is really sore about this, and wishes that he were in her position, seeing the world and free. Whether she knows him or not, he would likely be known as the one after, and the “perfect son”.

As for Danny... That’s a bit more tricky. As a whole he is incredibly conflicted. Part of him, really deeply resents the other boy, the original, another part of him, is desperate for validation and some small feelings of being siblings and family, and wants to be accepted by the other. Which side is stronger, is very dependent on the day and his overall mood. As it is though, he has never officially met Phantom. Also, he’s not entirely aware of Danny’s status as a half-ghost despite the logic that he should be if he is. He doesn’t really view Fenton and Phantom as the same person. Fenton is just... some kid in his mind. This distinction, is something that could cause conflict, but as a result, the default interaction is generally dismissal towards Danny as Fenton, and very conflicted feelings towards him as Phantom.

Again, it’s mostly as reputation only, and has never really met him... so his default interactions with any Danny would be the first official meeting between them. Expect at least some aggression if Danny is in Phantom form.

Button Mechanic, Pepper Princess & Magenta Buttons: Considering that all these guys are in the same verse, I decided to group them all together as well. Since welp, better than splitting them apart and explaining the same thing. They’re all post a story I’m semi-working on, a Coraline/MSA crossover that I have under the working title of Buttons. And the events of that have left them all in a bit of a mess. To various degrees they’re all traumatized. And there is some level of self-blame from them all. Interactions with counterparts would vary, because the one time they have so far met a “double” of someone close to them, it ended really, really badly.

Paprika is the most defensive really. Lewis somewhere in the middle, and Aothur generally rolls with things for the most part.

Rat Brat: Again, default is post series. But also, for Snitch, their default is somewhat a mirror of Danny’s situation at the start of the series as they have been a halfa for approximately a whole month by this point. They still don’t know how to really human that well. As for interactions with other Danny Phantom blogs, my general wish, is for ghosts to be familiar with them in the sense of “Oh great this pest again!” because they are the pest of the ghost zone... Spectra non-withstanding and people can decide whether they accept the connection in Snitch’s backstory or not...

As for Phantom... he might recognize them as a ghost he may have dealt with a time or two before should one wish to go with that... or just by their reputation as that ghost who brings rats with them... But I do have one thing... in human form they would be completely unknown to him, and, they personally would never recognize Fenton.

Mana of Time: Mana’s default is pretty vague really. He’s a child who just kind of shows up at random, and is usually knowing of people, but not sure if they know him... since he exists out of time, he treats all meetings like they are the first one. And event references can be confusing.

ROOT Rodent: Default is out of place. They just roll with what’s going on, whether they are in a crossover situation, in the future, or whatever. They do not change age, and I will keep them as they are, as stated in their profile.

But defaultly(in Naruto roleplays), they will react to certain situations and people the same way; Obito is their little brother figure, Minato shares their birthday, and Danzo is their commanding officer.

Pharaoh Skelepapa: His default is typically before the events of the film, but I am willing to play him a little bit after the film since things mostly won’t change. Usually I would hope for a thread with curses in play, but I am willing to have threads where Hector is the one who’s being dragged into whatever situation... In such cases he’ll be a bit like a ghost, and probably low-key freaking out the whole time, because what kind of weird curse is this?

Okay but seriously, primarily I will try to keep his threads to the Land of the Dead. Where your muse has gotten cursed in some form or another. Whether it’s through breaking into where his body is stored and getting cursed that way, or stealing something from a grave and getting cursed that way with Hector being called in as the “expert” on curses and how to deal with them. You will also likely get to see members of his support system in these threads, whether it’s from his Guardian Lydia, friends from Shantytown or a few of the Officers and Agents he’s gotten to know at the department.

But... that said, I am willing to do threads that yank him out of his comfort zone and pull him into the Land of the Living or, into a whole other world entirely. Again, he’ll mostly be operating under “ghost” or “monster” rules. Although I lean more towards monster/fae being on the spectrum, because he doesn’t have any ghostly abilities aside some followers... who mostly hang around his mummified body otherwise.

But almost always, threads will be based more before the film, although exceptions apply, and I am willing to explore him dealing with the curse continuing even after he’s finally made it home.

Wilde Dogg: Honestly, the verse for Buziba is kind of vague... but in general what you really need to know is that Buziba is a very hurt and scared boy. He’s also not too likely to take too kindly to people approaching him from nowhere. He’s out in the wilds on his own, and he prefers it that way... or at least that’s what he tells himself. But by default, you’ll find him in an undisclosed and unknown woods, deep hidden in the bush. And he won’t be eager to interact with anyone...

Although he can also be on the streets or just wandering near the roads and curious. But will always be wary, and he’s been on his own for little over a year... trust is not exactly something he’s good at.

[goldendream-s]

hurtful words

Request Prompt; Hi, i was wondering if you could please make an imagine where shawn makes y/n cry because he said something he doesn’t mean?

PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR

MASTERLIST || REQUEST

You and Shawn had a lot going for each other; he was about to go on his first full out tour in the U.S., and you were preparing to go to your dream school. To top it all off, the two of you were nearing your one year anniversary with each other. It’s been a long ride between different schedules and time zones, but the two of you made it work.

Unlike the rest of the anniversaries that the two of you have shared, you suggested having a nice dinner in the comfort of your shared home this time. The contrast from fancy and uptight dinners would be nice for the two of you. All you needed was to be with Shawn, and you’d be happy either way. You had been so ecstatic about the upcoming date with Shawn for weeks now, that every time you thought about it, you couldn’t help but squirm in your seat from excitement. Something about him made every date feel like the first. Whether it was him bringing flowers or giant teddy bears, his gestures always managed to make you melt.

As the days became hours until your anniversary was coming, you picked out Shawn’s favorite dress on you to wear. The dinner might’ve been at home, but you put on as much makeup as if you were about to walk the red carpet. Don’t get it wrong — you were comfortable enough around Shawn to be bare faced, but you wanted this to be the perfect night for the two of you, and that would start by you looking and feeling your best. You also started dinner in the midst of everything to make sure you were on schedule.

Shawn was out with his friends, which gave you the perfect amount of time to tidy everything around the house up. You didn’t mind if he was out for the day because you would be able to have him for the rest of the night. It was going to be a great night for the two of you.

Jamming out to his Illuminate album, you set down the last set of silverware and plates for your mini table for two. You were beyond proud of yourself for making not only yourself, but dinner look so good. You couldn’t wait to see Shawn’s reaction, but most of all, you couldn’t wait to share a one year anniversary with the love of your life. 

You check yourself in the mirror once more before turning to the small clock above the door that Shawn would walk through any minute. The clock reads 6:56pm. Perfect. Shawn promised to be here at seven, so you quickly spritzed yourself with your most expensive perfume. It was exactly 7pm when you scampered to your seat. You couldn’t stop buzzing and jittering around in your seat for what felt like ages.

Your energy levels soon depleted after you realized that something was wrong. Where was Shawn? He’s never late, not even for the smallest things. You waited for another five minutes just in case he was caught in traffic. Even the butterflies in your stomach began to turn into a sick feeling. Starting to tap your shoes against the marble tiles of your dining room, you called Shawn to make sure everything was fine, but you were sent straight to voicemail. 

You eventually deemed Shawn late for what you planned as your perfect date. If you could even call it perfect anymore. Holding in the light wave of tears threatening to escape and pacing around the table, you called Shawn six more times until giving up. Thirty minutes later and many texts later, Shawn was still a no show.

Sighing, you start wrapping all of the food up and putting the plates back from their cabinet when you pause at the sound of keys jingling and a door knob turning. Shawn walks through the door setting his items down next to his shoes. He looks up at you, but he doesn’t give any attempts of trying greet you.

Giving him another minute, he still seems to not notice anything different about the house’s atmosphere. You bite your tongue as you try to stop yourself from lashing out at him. How could he forget about your one year anniversary? It’s the only thing that you have been talking about for the last two weeks! Dropping the idea of waiting for Shawn to speak first, you begin your interrogation.

“Where have you been?” you asked, slightly annoyed.

“I was out with the boys, chill,” Shawn answers as if you asked him the dumbest question. “Why are you so dressed up?”

You don’t know if this was all a prank, but you didn’t plan on laughing any time soon. You weren’t going to tell him what was wrong right away because you wanted to see if he really did forget about the special date. “Do you know what today is?” You tried jogging his memory again.

“Do I look like a fucking calendar,” Shawn bluntly exclaims. He walks over to the couch, propping his legs on the other end.

You’re taken aback for a second, almost fuming, but decide to continue pressing him. “So none of this,” You gesture at the now wrapped up food you spent hours preparing, the table you set, and your dress, “Rings a bell? Not even a little?” You were starting to blow up.

“What’s with all these questions? You’re not my mom. You’re my girlfriend, so you can stop acting so pushy and annoying. I didn’t come home to be nagged when I did nothing wrong, no need to be a bitch about it. I knew I should’ve stayed at the studio longer.” Shawn says this so smoothly and easily, that you finally crack.

You open your mouth to snap back, but Shawn seems like he has even more to say.

“Why can’t you be like other girls and go out instead of being in the house all day long? Do you not have anything better to do with your life instead of annoying your boyfriend?” 

All of the tears that you managed to coop up before have now been released, and as soon as Shawn realized what he said, his face completely drained of color. 

“Happy one year anniversary, Shawn. I guess you don’t care much anyways, so I don’t even know why I bothered.” A second look of realization finally flashes across Shawn’s face but all you want to do right now is slap him. You briskly walk away from Shawn as you wipe your wet face.

“No, wait,” Shawn calls for you as he tries to reach out for your hands. You try not to cry because you didn’t want to ruin your dress and makeup, but there was no point anymore. Shawn had forgotten about the date, and he basically called you an obnoxious and pushy girlfriend with no life. All you wanted was the perfect night for the both of you, but this was far from flawless.

You try to head to the room, but you can sense Shawn right at your heels. The aggravation finally gets to you and you violently turn around to face Shawn. “What do you want?” Your voice rising.

Shawn only stares into your eyes before diverging his gaze to his toes.

You roll your eyes and head into the room to change and wipe away your makeup. Most of your makeup had already run down your face from the tears anyways, so you decided to shower off the makeup and pain. How could he forget, let alone adjust the anger to you? What went wrong?

As you were drying yourself off, you decided that you wouldn’t let these turn of events ruin your night. You were going to enjoy yourself, whether Shawn was in the picture or not. Besides, it was only 9pm, and the night had yet to begun. 

Lacing up your favorite shoes, you finally took in the ensuing silence. Where was Shawn? Even when the two of you were in a fight, the house was never this quiet. You almost decided to do a quick peek into every room of the house, but you ignored the urge to. If Shawn was going to show that he didn’t care about you and the relationship, two could play at that game. Shawn was nowhere to be seen anyways. Guess that makes for the second time for this night.

Before you could let any more of the anger get to you, you write a note. Cliche, but you began writing anyways. ‘Going out. Don’t expect me to be back anytime soon. Happy Anniversary.’ You smirk to yourself as you sign the note and tape it to the fridge. You vowed to yourself that the rest of your night and thoughts would be Shawn-free.

Shawn’s POV 

I messed up. Big time. How did I forget about one of the most important milestones in Y/N and I’s relationship? How could I forget about the date she’s been talking about for ages, let alone spew out all of those terrible and hurtful words to her?  I couldn’t even respond to her after she confronted me about forgetting about the damn date. 

After replaying everything that happened in my head, I started to question what I was turning into. She’s been nothing but the most supportive girlfriend, and I’ve treated her like complete rubbish. She’s given me her unconditional love, and I pay her back by hanging out with the boys every night and ruining our one year anniversary.

I didn’t even bother to go after Y/N when she walked away. What kind of boyfriend am I? A terrible and ungrateful one, that’s for sure. I hadn’t even bothered to check on Y/N in our own shared bedroom. Right now, I’m in our guest room, thinking of what to do next. A light bulb goes off in my head. I run out of the room and put on my shoes. I should probably apologize and tell Y/N where I’m going first, but I can do that as soon as I get back.

Rushing into my car and turning on the engine, I click my seat belt on and head to the local flower shop. Greeting the kind woman behind the counter, I ask for her to help me pick out the best bouquet of roses they had — Y/N’s favorite type of flowers. After all, she was the reason why my song ‘Roses’ even has its name. 

I smile as I look back on the day I decided that I wanted to make Y/N my girlfriend. At the time, she was having an off and on relationship with another guy, but I was determined to make her mine. Being the shy me, I turned to music to help express my feelings to Y/N and I came up with Roses. Luckily, she loved it, and it’s definitely one of our favorite songs that the two of us share. Thinking about how she’s my girlfriend now makes everything seem like a dream. I quickly shake myself out of the memory as the flower lady snaps me back into reality.

My breath hitches as I look at the flowers. They’re beautiful, and I know Y/N will love them. I don’t even know what got into me when I told her what I did. All she wanted was a perfect night for the two of us that she spent weeks on, and I messed it up within minutes.

As I drove to the next stop, I also thought of my apology to tell Y/N. I was genuinely sorry, but I wasn’t sure how I was going to tell her that. It already hurts me when I see her cry, but knowing that I was the cause of her crying was a whole new feeling of guilt. A girl as beautiful as Y/N should never have to cry, and as her boyfriend, I’m supposed to protect her from that pain. I want to lock myself away for being the reason of Y/N’s tears. How could I do that to the girl I love? 

Pulling up to the parking lot of Y/N’s favorite bakery, the sweet waft of the freshly baked sweets bring me back to our very first “date” a month before I asked her to be my girlfriend. My eyes start to water as I look over and find the very same table that we sat at. Ironically, it’s empty, but I can’t help but think back to the day. We couldn’t decide what to get, so we ordered one of everything from the menu and tried to eat as much while learning more and more about each other. I don’t think I’d ever be able to forget the way Y/N’s bright face lit up even more as they brought out a cart full of desserts. Everyone probably thought we were crazy, but I was only focused on the beautiful and stunning girl sitting right in front of me. I don’t even know if you could call it a date, but to me, it was one of the best times I’ve ever had with a girl. The meeting was meant to help Y/N with her most recent breakup at the time, but it ended up making me fall for her even more. I raise my fingers to my lips remembering how after that date, I finally manned up and gained the courage to kiss her. 

All while thinking about our first date, I gradually get closer and closer to the counter, forcing me to decide what to get. I chose to get two of Y/N’s favorite cakes, one saying ‘I’m Sorry’, and the other reading ‘Happy One Year, I Love You.’

On my way out of the small bakery, I also grab some heart balloons. Y/N was just as much of a hopeless romantic as I was, so the balloons were a no-brainer. No amount of gifts and cake could tell Y/N how sorry I am, but I wanted to at least show her how much I really did care about her and our relationship.

I parked the car back at our place and rushed in to set everything at the table. I also reheated the food that she made from earlier and tidied up the table. Taking a step back and determining that everything was set how I wanted it to be, I knocked on our bedroom door. It seemed kind of silly to be knocking on a door to a room that I shared with Y/N, but I didn’t want to make her more upset. After two knocks and no response, I slowly creep the door open, finding no sign of Y/N. I call her name, quietness being the only thing I get back. 

I start to panic and check all around the house, until I come across a small white note taped to the fridge. I scold at myself for not being more cautious earlier and checking on Y/N and where she was. I call her phone, but after six rings, it’s pretty obvious that she’s not going to pick up. I text her to apologize, also asking her to come back. It’s only 10:36 and knowing Y/N, she should be home soon. She wasn’t fond of being out so late at night, so I didn’t mind waiting.

Hours have passed, and Y/N still hasn’t come home. I moved from my uncomfortable seat at our dining table to the couches of the living room. I mentally cursed myself for being so stupid in the first place. Of course she wouldn’t want to be at the home with the same guy who called her all of these awful names. I try to call and text her again, but this time, I’m sent straight to voicemail. Was this how she felt when I completely stood her up? I neglected all of Y/N’s previous efforts for tonight, and now karma was coming to me.

I wait until midnight, and I jump when I finally get a text. Scrambling to turn on my phone, my face relaxes when I see that it’s a text from Y/N. I quickly look at the words below her contact name and my heart drops to my stomach when I read what she wrote. ‘I think we should take a break. I don’t think you’d care though since I’m so annoying to you anyways.’

Once I read the last part of the text, the waterworks start coming. It was like I was being deprived of oxygen. The word ‘devastated’ wouldn’t be enough to describe the pain and guilt eating and overcoming my body. Every memory with Y/N — good and bad, was beginning to circle my head like a whirlwind I couldn’t escape. I sink to my knees, my face now in my hands. 

All because of some careless words that I mindlessly said, this might be the last anniversary that Y/N and I share.

And all because of the hurtful words I chose to throw at Y/N, I also managed to throw our relationship away.

To the anon that requested this prompt, I hope you liked it! If any of you guys would like to request a prompt, you can do so here ! Requests as if now are open again!

check out my other writings >> masterlist

PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR

p.s. it’d be really great if you could like and/or reblog this :))

[ffsdownworlders]

Blood, Sweat and... Kisses?

s/o to @idiotgonewrong for this wonderful moodboard!

fandom: Shadowhunters

pairing: Jimon

1.7k words

When Simon arrived in front of the Institute, he found the lawn turned into a training zone. There were punching bags, something that looked like a huge treadmill and horizontal bars. Last but definitely not least, a gigantic obstacle course that included a lot of different sectors, most remarkably a huge tower, almost as high as the steeple on the Institute. Once again, Simon noted that the shadowhunters were completely nuts. Nothing new here.

The training zone was near empty, aside from one silhouette furiously beating a punching bag up. Since Simon couldn’t get into the institute without being invited by a shadowhunter, he decided to hope for the best, especially since Clary wasn’t picking up and he didn’t want to wait here outside all night and approached the shadowhunter.

The outcome was neither successful or a failure. It was Jace. On the one hand, Simon would most likely be let into the Institute. On the other one, Jace would make sure it took a lot of effort. He walked up to Jace, and when he heard Simon coming he stopped hitting the bag and turned to the vampire.

“Hey Jace!” Simon greeted. “Remember that time when I told you that you and the others were kinda like The Brave ones in Divergent?” Jace rolled his eyes as an answer and wiped away sweat from his forehead. Simon forced himself not to watch Jace’s arm as he did and continued; “And you denied it? Still so sure after all this?” He made a wide gesture over the training field.

Jace ignored Simon’s comment and explained: “Tomorrow’s the day when the Clave comes over to give us our yearly “fighting grade,” to make sure we are still worthy to be considered competent shadowhunters.” Was that sarcasm Simon sensed? Maybe not so strange, thinking back to Jace’s history with the Clave. “I figured why not put some extra work into it? I didn’t become the best over just one night, even if it could be hard to imagine,” Jace continued and gave him a smile.

Like so many times before, Simon couldn’t help but notice how good Jace smelled of sweat, leather and a pleasant smell that was his personal, unique one. His vampire abilities didn’t make it any better.

“So, what are you doing here anyways?” Jace asked nonchalantly, like he hadn’t noticed Simon drooling all over him. Embarrassed, Simon snapped out of it and focused. “Uh, I was gonna hang out with Clary, just watch a movie, but she didn’t pick up her phone, so I thought like: Hey, maybe that guy could help me, and it was you…” Simon didn’t realize that he was rambling nervously until Jace held up a hand and cut Simon off. “Okay, enough said. Clary isn’t here, she’s out shopping with Izzy”.

Dammit, he had looked forward to a slow evening with his best friend.

“Oh okay, well thanks for the help. See you another day,” Simon rushed, wanting to get as far as from Jace to prevent to embarrassing himself even more.

But as Simon turned over to leave, Jace called out for him;

“Hey Simon! Wait!”

Simon stopped abruptly at the sound of Jace’s voice and turned back. Jace was walking up to him, with a teasing smile on his lips. “You said earlier that you were interested in training, wanna give it a try? Take a lesson from the master himself?”

The truth was that Simon had only mentioned his interest in training as an excuse, when Jace had caught him staring a couple of weeks earlier. It was a bad idea. A terrible idea. But having an excuse to watch Jace workout was impossible to resist. He heard himself agree before he could talk some sense into his heart.

“Great! Let’s go!” They walked back into the training area and went down to business.

Jace showed Simon some of his tricks, like the perfect punch and the best stance to take during a fight. He also taught Simon how to dodge a blade and the most effective way to disarm someone with and without using a weapon. At one point he also tried to show Simon how to throw knives (even if the results were so bad that they silently decided to never speak of it again). Jace was aware of the fact that Simon’s vampire abilities gave him reflexes and speed far faster than his own, but Jace still couldn’t help but enjoy seeing Simon’s adorable frown as he attempted to perfect his new skills, even though Jace couldn’t help but mock him as he tried. Wait, Simon and adorable in the same sentence? But not even Jace could deny that Simon biting his lower lip as he focused did things to him.

The training continued, and after while Jace took a pause to drink some water. The air was still warm after a remarkably hot day. “Ready for your final challenge, padawan?” Jace asked, looking all sneaky. “Or are you afraid I’ll kick your ass?”

“I’m up for the challenge. Bring on the next task!” Simon answered, hoping that his nerves didn’t reflect in his words.

“In fact, it’s not a task, more like a competition.” Jace turned around and looked at the obstacle course. Of course.

“No way,” Simon protested. “I want to survive another night, thank you very much.”

“Come on Simon! You’re a vamp, this shouldn’t be that hard. And if it is, you really need to make sure it isn’t. Otherwise you’d be an awful vampire.”

Simon sighed, he was already defeated by Jace’s mocking tone.

“Let’s do it.”

What Jace did next really threw Simon off. Jace just casually took off his shirt, revealing his muscular torso, covered in runes. Simon almost thought that he would pass out at the sight. Jace, however, just flashed Simon a smug smirk and ran toward the first obstacle. Now that had to count as cheating, right? Simon hurried after, using his vampire speed.

The competition didn’t go that bad, except that Jace was ahead of Simon the whole time. If it wasn’t for the vampire speed there would be no chance in the world for Simon to follow. At last, Simon was in front of the tower. He looked up and saw Jace already on his way up and rushed after. The tower turned out to be the hardest part, even if it at first glance looked like an ordinary climbing wall. The background just kept on changing, from rusty metal that cut into his hands, to cold, slippery ice and even some kind of sticky paste that trapped his limbs to the wall. But having Jace’s arrogant smile on his mind, Simon couldn’t do anything but continue his fight to reach the top.

When Simon finally reached the top, a mocking smile greeted him. “Not bad for a newbie,” Jace said, laugh in his voice. He was standing in the middle of the platform, arms crossed over his chest in his typical stance. His hair was a little messy, his muscles swelling and his chest rose heavily. But instead of feeling tired, he looked like he was ready to take over the world. He looked unbelievably sexy.

“Thanks,” Simon answered with a tired smile, flustering, focusing his gaze anywhere except at Jace. He swallowed. “So can we climb down to safe ground now?”

“No way. The last part of the challenge is still left. You have to get me off this platform.”

Simon couldn’t believe his ears. “You want me to, push you from a tower?”

“Yeah, but you won’t be able to, cause I’ll have you down before a blink of an eye,” Jace answered, smirking all cocky and arrogant. “Your move, Simon.”

After these words, Simon just acted on instinct. As he started to move towards Jace, he noticed Jace getting into defense position. Maybe it was time to wipe that cocky smile off his face, Simon thought to himself and put his hands around Jace’s face and pressed his lips against Jace’s.

When Simon moved towards him, Jace thought that he could anticipate what Simon was going to do. He waited for Simon to throw a sloppy punch that was so typical for newbies, or maybe try to surprise him with a kick aimed for the knees.

But what Simon actually did, was something he was nowhere near expecting. As Simon’s lips met Jace’s, he felt a rush of emotions. Joy, happiness, desire, wanting, and more. He answered the kiss eagerly, bumping his forehead toward Simon’s as he leaned into the kiss, putting his hands on Simon’s back.

It wasn’t that Jace had never kissed someone. He had kissed girls as long as he could remember (and a lot more than just kissing, to tell the truth).  But no other kiss had made him feel this much. All because of an awkward, nerdy boy with a smile as bright as the sun. It all just felt… right?

The kiss was better than Simon could ever had imagined. Now, Jace was holding onto Simon, pulling him closer, hungry and almost rough. Not that Simon was complaining. Being close to Jace’s naked chest was heavenly. After a while, Jace pulled back, just enough to catch his breath, still holding Simon tightly. Jace’s looked dizzy, his lips were bright red and almost a little swollen. Not feeling Jace’s lips on his own, Simon suddenly remembered why they were even at the top of a tower. This opportunity was just too good to waste.

Jace wasn’t thinking anymore. All that existed was Simon. As Jace pulled away, he could feel how Simon took down his arms from behind Jace’s neck. At first, Jace was worried that he’d done something wrong, but Simon leaned in again and whispered with a teasing voice; “I hope you don’t fall all too bad.” Before Jace’s brain was able to process what he actually said, he felt Simon’s hands on his chest and before he knew it, Simon pushed him hard toward the edge of the tower.

Being trained for unexpected events your whole life actually paid off. Jace managed to gain his balance as he landed on the mats below. Just as his mind came racing back, Simon landed on the mat a few feet away from him. He looked Jace straight into the eyes. “Now this was fun, about making it a, um, a date next time?” he asked, flashing a bright smile before disappearing into the dark night, leaving a wide-eyed, blushing Jace behind. Yes, let’s make it a date, Jace thought. Soon enough Simon would realize that payback truly is a bitch.

[vintaehge]

|Till Art Set Us Again|

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader Synopsis: A long time ago, you were friend with a certain now Idol, Kim Seokjin. You parted away from him to become a painter and him to become a Kpop artist. You'd hated to go away from him, since you loved the boy... But now that you meet again... Warning: None. Word Count: 1555 Author Note: Hey, hey! OMG UPDATE! DID I REALLY FINALLY FINISHED THIS REQUEST?! Anyways! I hope you guys will like it! 

"I'm sorry Jin... I have to do it, it's my dream!"

"I understand (Y/N), don't worry. Someday we'll meet again and we'll both have realized our dreams."

You woke up having a strange feeling in your stomach. Right. You dreamed about your long time no seen best friend, Kim Seokjin, again.

It is so hard to live without his presence anymore, it's been almost seven years now and you're still not used to his absence. You got used of how America was when you lived there a few months ago.... but you won't let the uneasiness that Seokjin's absence created go.

You raised on your feet and took some dirty clothes to dress in. You walked up to the kitchen and made yourself a wonderful drink that is called coffee. You took your mug, filled by the brown and good smelling liquid, warming your hands up then taking a good sip of the hot beverage.

You sigh in pure joy, it tastes so amazing!

'Ok so now, let's get back on working on that painting (Y/N).' You told yourself, heading to your studio.

You entered the room and smiled at the sight. The place was huge and cozy, with wide windows. Plants were hung a little bit everywhere around the room and canvas were hanged on the walls or stood on the floor. Your desk where you putted your materials was a huge mess but was still kind of organized.

There must have been more than a hundred of painting tube classed in colors order. There were painting tools everywhere and in the middle of that mess stood a canvas on an easel. You looked at the canvas and bit your lip. Cherry trees in bloom on a long alley... the last place you saw Seokjin.

This paint was only for him and you'd hope that one day, you could show him that piece of art which was dedicated to him.

Feeling old feelings getting to you, you decided you better get to work and forget about how you missed those dark colored eyes. You turned on the radio and some K-pop started to play. You were enlighten by the mood the song gave off and sat in front of your canvas happily.

'Ok, let's try to put some details here and there and then I'll start to do the lights and shadows more pronounced.'

~~~

It was 15 O'clock when you were about to start the lights and shadows on your painting... But then you realized you cruelly missed some white, black and pink to continue the canvas.

You sighed and secured your painting zone with towels and stopped the fan so the painting wouldn't dry to fast. You took off your dirty clothes and grabbed something more clean to dress in.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror and smiled. Good.

You took your keys and bag and went straight to the art shop where you could buy some colors to finish your canvas.

~~~

You looked at your bill and sighed. At least you loved to paint and that was your job! Because damn... you once again not resist the envy of buying new colors other than the ones you needed and of course new canvas to paint on. You gave a smile anyways, that meant more choice of painting!

You happily walked on your way to your apartment but suddenly someone rushed into you and you fell on your butt. You were just about to say something to that stranger for pushing you like that and almost breaking your precious art material, but then you saw who it was.

"Gosh, I'm sor- Jesus! (Y/N)! I'm so-so sorry!" Said the boy in front of you, crouching next to you to assure your art stuff was okay and you too by the same occasion.

After putting everything back into the bags, he helped you up.

"Why so stressed Jin?" You asked  blowing the dust away of your clothes.

"Huh... work getting too much into my brain I guess... I wasn't even rushing somewhere important." He said sighing, shaking his head.

"It's okay, everything's fine and I'm good too. Just relax and be more careful next time." You said smiling.

He smiled back to you and you felt your heart beat faster in your body. You missed him, but that you sure wouldn't admit it out loud right now.

"Well I better get going." He said.

But before he could go any farther, you grabbed his wrist.

"Wait! Huh- do you want to have a coffee at my apartment at least. It's been a long time since we last see each other and it would be nice to talk."

Jin looked at his watch and then looked up to you smiling brightly.

"Sure, we have a couple of hours."

~~~

Seokjin and you had a lot of fun narrating each others what happened in the past years. The boy told you about his adventure with BTS and you told him about everything you did in the painting world. Turned out you were both now famous and kind of rich. He was for his singing and you for your painting. You both realized your dream to do what you both wanted and that was great.

"Are you and the boys projecting to do a concert soon?" You asked taking a sip of your drink.

"Yeah, we have a tour in about 2 months. I'm really excited for it but it's really tiring though, we'll only be over 4 months later with the tour..."

"Woah! That's a lot of time not being home! I actually have a representation in June. It would be nice if you can come after your tour."

Jin nodded.

"I'll try to fit in the schedule to be able to see your creations. I promise."

~~~

Soon came the time when Jin had to go back to the dorms, back to BTS. You were happy you actually saw him and recapped what happened in the past years. Your relation was just the same as you left it. It was just perfect.

So you took the opportunity you had now to buy the ticket for one of his concert in Seoul. You really wanted to see him on stage and encourage him. Plus he'd do the effort the try to find sometimes in his busy schedule to come see your presentation and that meant a lot to you.

The months passed and your relation with Jin was growing, eventually becoming more that just a platonic Best friend relationship. Now you exchanged hearts in texts and also hugged each other before parting away, sometimes Seokjin would even blow you a dramatic kiss which was actually really funny.

But as the time passed to day of your exposition got close rapidly and Seokjin's absence because of his tour was making your anxious. You needed someone to support you... but no one was there. Your friends were too occupied in their adults life... they had no time to help you with your artist problems.

You were really stressed by the presentation since it was a special ones. Every canvas that are gonna be hanged and presented to hundred of people while the exposition are all places where Seokjin and you exchanged a precious moment. You'll have to explain why you painted those to hundred of people and maybe Jin himself.

The day before the expo you were really nervous. You'd make sure everything was into places for the presentation. The room was huge and that's relief because you had a lot of canvas.

The precise day of this presentation, you made yourself presentable in a dress and combed your hair in a beautiful and graceful manner. You made your way to the exposition room and prepared yourself for the visitors. The time passed and a lot of people entered the place, in hope so see Jin you were always near the doors greeting the visitors but your friend was nowhere to be seen. He must have not been able to get out of airport on time for your exposition.

~~~

Jin climbed in a taxi and indicated the driver where he shall go. He held a rose bouquet in his hand and he was really anxious about being late.

When there was hope for him to be on time, the road would get stuck by cars and sadly Jin was stuck there too. He'd arrive too late for your presentation...

~~~

Your were just about to close your exposition but you heard footsteps running into the hallway. A tall man appearing in the corridor. It was Jin.

"Jin?"

"I'm sorry I got stuck on my way here... Is it too late now for me to see your wonderful work?" He gave you the bouquet he had while saying this.

"Oh! Yes you have time. Come in."

Jin entered the room and looked around him. There were canvas everywhere.

"Woaw you worked a lot." He whispered, impressed.

You showed him every of your paintings and when you'd arrive in front of the Cherry blossom tree, he'd frown.

"Those paintings... are they places we went to together?" He asked.

"Yeah..." You murmured getting embarrassed.

"..."

Jin looked at all of those and smiled after a while.

"Till art set us again huh? Those are wonderful (Y/N)."