#i made the mistake of using 2 different pens | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

classypauli · 9 months ago

Text

She’s the Man

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem Reader A/N: I don’t even have words, I definitely wasn’t expecting this feedback, you guys made my day. Thank you for all the likes, rebloggs and comments!! You are the best!! Warning: alcohol, drunk people, grammar mistakes, bad punctuation in complex sentences, spelling errors Word count: 4.8k

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Y/N was walking down the hallway with Mason, they didn´t share many classes except literature. It was one of her favorite classes. Y/N becomes a little nerd if someone asks her about history, paintings, architecture, or literature. When she was a kid, she wasn´t into this kind of things. She used to do a lot of sports and her grades weren´t great but also not worse.

When she started to go to a high school she stopped. Her grades became better and soon she was topping most of her classes. Her classmates saw her as someone intelligent, she wasn´t just book smart, she had good opinions and when she started talking people listened to her, she didn´t know why, maybe because she didn´t talk much so they became interested in her talking.

But she never talked about herself. She was always trying to avoid any questions about her. Y/N didn´t know why she did that. She felt more secure that way, less on target. She likes to keep things like this together. When she used to tell someone about her problems she didn´t feel relief, it was the opposite, she was scared that it wouldn´t end with that person or that they actually didn´t care and just listened to her cause they didn´t want to be impolite. So she found peace in her silence.

When she struggled she picked up a pen and notebook. She kept writing and writing until she forgot why she started. She never read it. Felt ashamed of her words and her feelings. She wasn’t alone after all, she had her family and brother, so why did she still feel so lonely? Y/N knew she wasn´t good with words but she wanted to be better.

When she became older she found herself in poems. Sometimes she was writing about her feelings, other times she was writing about things she likes, saw during the day, or just about her day. In some way they made her realize that being focused on bad things won´t bring her good feelings. And she felt stupid, of course, it was like this but talking about it and behaving according to it were two different things.

„How was your weekend?“ Mason asked as they walked side by side to their class, passing by some of their football teammates, shooting them nods.

„It was pretty good, got some sleep, how about you?“ she shot him a glance. Y/N still can´t believe that someone like him exists, he is so kind and helpful. Today after school they are having practice, she was kind of on the edge of her toes because on saturday they have the game but Mason supported her and calmed her nerves.

„Me too, there was a party going on, it was quite good but it would be even better if you were there.“

They walked into a class and took a seat, chatting about some festival going on this week when suddenly Percy came into a class. He saw her shot her a quick nod and started to make his way to them.

„Hey, Charlie! I didn´t see you almost all weekend!“ Yeah, they were always avoiding each other but not on purpose, Y/N was always somewhere and when she came to the dorm Percy wasn´t there yet, he was sleeping or it was the other way around.

He turned to Mason but didn´t say anything. It was weird, like some tension between them. They just kept looking at each other till Percy asked her about her Friday night.

„How was your hang out with your teammates?“

Mason shot her a questionable look but Percy didn´t seem to notice that. Y/N got stuck. Now there was no way she could keep lying because clearly, Mason was sitting beside her, she could say that she felt sick so she canceled the plans or-

„It was great.“ Mason said from beside her. „Why are you interested? You wanted to join us?“ he asked and kept looking at him for an answer. Y/N knew he didn´t mean the question that way but silently thanked him for saving her. Percy looked at him, stunned, as he wasn´t expecting his statement.

„No, of course not.“ After that, he walked away somewhere behind them to find a free chair to sit on. Mason looked at “Charlie” again with a slightly raised eyebrow.

„I´m not going to ask, if you want to tell me you can, just so you know, I don´t want to force you.“ He said softly. Mason can see the way his teammate is. How she only talks when someone asks her something. He sees how she acts and holds herself. He also can see that something is off but can´t really say what. But still, he has this urge to hold a protective wing above his new friend.

„Thank you, Mason.“ Y/N shot a small smile his way and he gave it back to her. Class began and she can only hope that Percy will forget about their small but tense interaction.

Soon the mentioned festival came. Y/N was walking around by herself not really sure where to head to. There were all the students from her school running around. She saw Georgie on the bench, he was holding big candy floss in his hand looking excited at it. The girl wanted to laugh at him, he looked really funny. Slowly she came to him with a small teasing smile on her face.

„Aren´t you a little too old for this?“ Y/N asked him looking at his change of face at her question.

„There is not something like an age barrier in eating cotton candy!“ Georgie shouted and turned his face around, acting angry at her. Of course, he was right, she liked it too, she just saw the opportunity and took it.

„Yeah, believe whatever you want“ Y/N smiled „Where is the rest?“ she was hitting on Hunter, the two boys were always together, they truly were like brothers, always bickering but supportive of each other. Percy was also a lot of time by their side but Hunter and Georgie were glued by the hip.

„I don´t know I´m waiting for him.“ He said as Y/N slowly took a seat by him. „And what brings you here? Shouldn´t you train for your upcoming match?“ he looked her way.

„Today we have a free day, coach was talking about him having some show at the festival.“ Y/N was looking forward to her match and wanted to be ready, hoping he would let her play for at least a couple of minutes. She wanted to find out how her body would react. She was a little nervous but this stress was healthy. It kept her going.

„Me and Hunter will come to watch you.“ The girl looked at him shocked. He was eating his candy floss with his fingers all sticky.

„You like something else besides eating and taking photography?“ she teased him and he looked at her with lowered eyebrows.

„I didn´t say I enjoy watching it, I just want to see how you lose your first game.“ Georgie laughed then Y/N punched his shoulder. „Ouch! I was only joking you know!“

She stopped and looked around her, feeling like someone was watching her and she was right. There was a girl not so far, looking at her with folded arms and a smirk on her face. She had long brown hair and was short. She started to make her way to the two of them. Y/N straightened her back and waited for what this girl had to say.

„Hey, I don´t think we know each other but my roommate talks a lot about you.“

Now that made the girl sitting on the bench stop. Roommate? She had never seen this girl and Y/N wasn´t sure where she should know her roommate from. The only girl she talks to is Jenna but she´s almost sure that she has no reason to talk about her.

„She is working in the photo booth, I´m sure she would be on top of the roof if you came to see her.“ She still has that teasing smile on her face.

„Uhm... yeah, sure“ Y/N lets out looking at Georgie who´s trying to hold his laugh. The girl left and he lets it out.

„Shut your mouth and keep eating.“ She hissed at him but he only continued with his laugh.

Soon she found Mason and some of her other teammates, they talked about the game how excited are they and how they would smash their opponent. Her brother called her again, saying how his tour was going and he wished her luck. Their parents luckily aren´t suspicious so everything is going according to plan. She takes her walk around the festival, looking at all kinds of booths and how people are enjoying themselves. She stopped by one and just stared, she saw Jenna, and she sat in one of the booths on her face her significant smile. Suddenly the brown eyed girl looked up and saw Y/N. She smiles wider and she indicates with her eyes at the side of the booth. Y/N slowly walks there are is greeted with Jenna´s hug. This was the first time they hugged and Y/N couldn´t focus on anything. She was shocked by the girl´s body language but also glad cause this meant their friendship became stronger.

„Hey, I was looking forward to seeing you today.“ Jenna backed her way out of their hug and looked up at her, still with their bodies close to one another. Y/N looked where they were and she saw that Jenna was working in a... photo booth.

„Uhm... yeah? Why? Do you need something?“ the other girl asked looking down at her again.

„No, I just wanted to see you.“ There goes her dimples again. They are so cute. Her whole face is too pretty. Y/N wanted to say something but was cut off by another voice.

„Hey football player glad you finally decided to come.“ She turned to Jenna „I found her when I went to the toilet, couldn´t hold myself from inviting her to our booth.“ She shot her teasing smile. Jenna face palmed herself, she could already imagine how she approached you and what she said. Gideon was like that, she is a big matchmaker but also really attentive and sweet when it's convenient.

„Charlie this is Gideon, Gideon Charlie.“ She pointed her hand from one to another.

„Hey Charlie, I heard a lot of things about you.“ She smirked and Jenna pushed her away, awkwardly looking around as she stood in front of Y/N.

„Ehm...so, I heard you have an upcoming game this Saturday, are you excited yet?“ the shorter girl asked as she looked at her feet, arms folded. Y/N found her cute right now, how she couldn´t look at her like she did before her roommate interrupted them.

„I pretty am, even though I don´t even know if I will play, I´ve been training only two weeks, and I’m not sure if the coach will let me play.“ She shook her shoulders.

„Oh I´m sure you will be playing, you are one of the best on your team.“ Jenna winked at Y/N and smiled at her. „I saw you a couple of times.“

Now, Jenna was acting as if she had seen her just a couple of times but the truth is, she saw her every practice. She doesn´t know why, at first she just went there cause she didn´t feel like going straight to her dorm, but when she saw you she knew that she wanted to see you again. You were so good. You acted like a totally different person on the field, you were confident and energetic, and your every move was calculated. You could easily catch someone´s attention. You caught Jenna´s attention.

Y/N felt a lot more confident because of Jenna´s words. She wasn´t the first person who said this to her.

„Will you come to see us?“

„Are you inviting me to watch you on your game?“ Jenna teased her.

„Well, if you already have some plans you don´t have to, I mean you probably have better things to do than to watch some stinky players running around the field chasing the ba-“ Y/N didn´t even finish her sentence and the other girls cut her off.

„I will come“ Jenna wouldn´t miss your first game, she was excited to see you being competitive. There was something about you that was always bringing her thoughts to you. You were such a good listener, a soft speaker, and intelligent. She doesn´t think she has ever met someone like you in her life. You were like a fresh air to her stereotypical life. She wanted to be with you cause every time you are together, you give her something new.

Jenna watched Y/N. She couldn’t tear her eyes off her. You were like someone else like they switched you. In-person, you were sweet, quiet, caring, and soft. On the field, you were almost aggressive but not in a bad way, you knew what you were doing. This was definitely your alter ego and Jenna was here for every second of it, you put on quite a show. Running back and forth in your jersey, defending than attacking, the ball moved exactly where you wanted it to move. You were fast, probably the fastest one on the field.

Jenna enjoyed it so much. She used to play football when she was a kid with her family when they spent time together and also in school. But that was a long time ago, she may not play it anymore but she still likes to watch it.

The girl moved her eyes as you got the ball on your foot and started to run trying to get near the opponent's net. Players trying to stop you, running after you, trying to slide their way to you, nothing works. When you got near the goal area you tried your luck and shot the ball into the net. The opponent's goalkeeper couldn’t see the ball because of his teammates standing in front of him, making the ball straight to the top corner. Whistle. Goal.

Jenna stood up clapping her hands big smile on her face as she watched you running to your teammates to celebrate your success. The whole tribune of the students from your school is clapping, yelling supportive words, happy that they are winning against a different university. Your coach is standing near the field with his arms folded and a proud smile on his face. It was definitely a good idea to put you in the first lineup.

“Charlie! That was so good!” Mason tapped your back, he had the biggest smile, and he was so happy for you. You were a big talent.

The game went on and it was almost the end, Y/N became calmer because they were leading. She shot her gaze a couple of times at the tribune and every time she could see Jenna looking at her, she hoped she was enjoying this. Y/N also saw Georgie and Hunter, both boys beside each other smiling widely at her with their thumbs up, Georgie with a hot dog in another hand.

Soon the game ended, and they won 3:0. Y/N was glad that her first match was successful and hopefully, she impressed others. In the changing room, her teammates were chanting, happy about their first match. After that, she walked out of the changing room, bag on her shoulder, still in her football jersey, she’s planning to take a shower in her dorm. She knew that they were a bit suspicious about her cause every time after practice she just took her bag and left, unchanged. But they thought maybe “Charlie” was just shy which was okay not everyone liked showing off skin, even if it was in front of the same gender. Y/N was near the entrance looking into her phone, texting her brother about her game.

„Hey football player.” She looked up from her phone and saw Jenna leaning on her side into the doors looking at her.

„Oh hi, wasn‘t expecting you, did you enjoy the game?” the girl asked as she got closer to her. Now they were looking at each other holding gaze, Jenna looked up biting her lip. You look good right now. Still being in jersey, sweaty forehead, hooded eyes from the energy you gave on the field. If this was someone else she was sure she wouldn’t find them as attractive as you right now.

Jenna nodded her head „Congratulations on your first successful game, pretty cool goal if I have to say.” She says softly still looking at the other girl.

„Pretty cool? It was awesome! Didn’t you see how I ran through half of their players and still shot it?” Y/N started defending herself „I was unstoppable.”

Jenna threw her head back letting out a laugh. She grabbed Y/N by the arm and started to pull her outside of the building.

„Come, we need to celebrate your first win”

„Wait, but I’m still in these clothes, I can’t go anywhere like this.”

Jenna shot her a look „There isn’t any problem if you ask me, but we can stop by your dorm?”

They walked out, still holding each other's hands, Y/N didn’t want to be rude and tear up their hands, she liked this feeling, Jenna’s hand was so soft and warm. Y/N felt good with Jenna, like she has finally someone just for herself.

But her thoughts went to her words, what if her roommate was there and saw them together? He would beat her up. But it was afternoon and he used to be at this time somewhere in the amphitheater.

Y/N agreed as they started making their way towards the dorm rooms. They chatted about some party going on tonight. Jenna’s friend Gideon invited her. Jenna was about to decline but her roommate said there would be also a football team probably celebrating their win. That made Jenna say yes to her offer which Gideon only laughed at.

To Jenna “Charlie” was special, she didn’t know what caught her attention, something inside of her wanted to be with you, by your side.

Luckily for Y/N, Percy was nowhere to be found. She invited Jenna to their room she took her new clothes and went to get a shower. Jenna was sitting on Y/N’s bed, looking around trying to find something which would only make her closer to her friend. Your bed smelled like you, she loved your scent it was like citrus with cedar or something like green tea, she couldn’t describe it in one word. On your desk were books and a notebook, you had it perfectly organized, and everything had its own place. Yeah, you are definitely a perfectionist. When she looked at the other side of the room she could exactly say who was the owner.

The paintings and papers spread around the desk and floor, different types of art. She found them a couple of times in her locker, at the table where she sat, or in her mailbox. Paintings of her. At first, she found it cute but it kept graduating as she got them almost every day. And it was always herself.

But maybe she would be glad, if it ended just with this.

She was in a room where lived two people. One that makes her most pleasant in their presence and the other one she feels most uncomfortable with.

„So what´s your plan for today?“

They were eating in some corner restaurant, Jenna got herself some vegan food, and Y/N sat in front of her with a plate of big burger and some fries. It felt good seeing them like this, both out of student uniforms in their civilian clothes, enjoying each other´s company.

Jenna wanted to know, inconspicuously, if her friend in going to the local party that night. If she said yes then Jenna would also have some plans, that´s for sure. Even though she doesn´t like parties, not anymore.

„Well, some of my teammates are going to some party, I don´t know where, they asked me if I´ll join them.“ She said as she kept eating her fries. „I haven´t decided yet, I´m not really into parties, too loud for me.“ That really didn´t answer her question.

„What about you? Any plans?“

„Gideon was saying something about today´s night but I´m not sure yet.“

„Oh, cool.“ And just like that they continued eating their meals, both hoping, at some point they´ll see each other today. Jenna looked up from the table to Y/N, the girl looked flawless right now, with her invincible walls down, silently eating a burger. Jenna pushed her hand up and stole some fries from her plate. Her friend looked at her with her head not moving from her meat, unimpressed. Softly shook her head from side to side.

„You are lucky it´s you, if it was someone else they wouldn´t have a hand by now.“ She said. She didn’t mind sharing food, sometimes, and she definitely didn´t mind sharing food with the brown-eyed girl.

Y/N was thinking. About Percy to be exact, about their deal or more like his, because he isn´t doing anything to repay. But she promised him she would at least try. And she also tried. When she and Jenna had classes together, like when they were lab partners, she could feel Percy´s stare. His eyes were boring into her skull so hard that sometimes she could even feel a headache. When she looked up at him he moved his eyes to the other girl and back to her. Signalizing what he wants from her.

So she asked. She asked Jenna if she was dating anyone or if she ever thought about going out with Percy. Jenna only laughed at her and shook her head, trying to avoid any questions about him. Y/N could feel something was off, the brown-eyed girl knew the boy and still didn´t even look at him or say hi to him. But Y/N doesn´t know why is she like that. Something happened between them and she wasn´t sure if she wanted to know. It wasn´t her business after all.

After Y/N´s questions, Jenna felt conflicted. She was used to guys asking her out, trying something with her but not you, you were different. You are the only guy who hasn´t tried to get with her. And she liked that. But when you asked her about Percy and said that she would be perfect for him, she almost wasn´t sure if she heard you right.

Perfect for him. But would he be perfect for her? Jenna knew the answer to that question. She disliked him. For what he made her feel. Jenna didn´t want to be perfect for him, she wanted to be perfect for you. And it took her quite a long time to realize that she liked you more than a friend. She talked to Gideon and Emma about it, they told her the same thing.

But did you feel the same?

Jenna was now standing in someone´s living room. Loud music and drunk students were escorting her thoughts. She was looking for her friends, they agreed that they would meet there. She saw Gideon sitting on the sofa, cup in her hand. She was talking to someone Jenna recognized from school. She sat beside her and her roommate looked her way.

„Hey, glad you could make it.“

„What are you drinking?“ Jenna grabbed Gideon´s cup and smelled it.

„Vodka, I got it from the kitchen, down the hallway to the right, you want me to go with you?“ Gideon was sweet, she knew Jenna didn´t enjoy such a thing as a party.

„No it´s okay, I´ll get it, maybe I´ll see Emma or Joy somewhere.“

So with that, she picked herself up from a sofa and started to go into the kitchen. There were a bunch of teens, she barely could make it through them. Some were really drunk and the scent of strong alcohol could be smelled from them. Some guys who saw her shot her flirtatious smirk. She brushed them off and was trying not to make any eye contact on her way. When she saw football players she immediately started looking around if you weren´t somewhere over there. No, you weren’t. She was looking forward to meeting you today but still with no luck. She hoped you would decide to go there.

She made it to the kitchen took a cup in her hand and started looking for some juice. She didn´t feel like drinking, maybe if she was at home with some close friends or you, she would drink but she was at a party, by herself in a stranger´s kitchen.

„Hey.“

Jenna heard a voice from the back. The girl turned around and saw someone she was trying to avoid at all costs. She hoped he wouldn´t be there today but of course he would, they are in the same school after all.

Percy was standing by the kitchen entrance, eyes low, looking at her. They were alone there and loud music could be heard from the other room. Suddenly she didn´t feel safe. The last time they met they were in a room full of people and it still didn´t stop him. Now they were alone and she felt even more scared cause there was nothing that could stop him from doing whatever he wanted.

„H-Hey.“ She shot him nodding with her head and continued with whatever she was doing, with her shaking hands, acting like he wasn´t even there in the first place. But she could feel his cold presence closer behind her. She turned around and was met with his face. He smelled like he just drunk a whole bottle of alcohol. She took a step back from him.

„Is there something you want?“ Jenna asked him. He never broke the eye contact, slowly smirking.

„Yeah, actually, you could help me with something.“ He went to grab her hand but she pushed him.

„Stop, you know what happened last time-“ he cut her off.

„I don´t care! Why can´t you just give me a chance? We could be so good together. You like that, right? You like it when guys are chasing you, it makes you like you are in charge, well Jenna, now it´s different, now I´m in charge here.“

„Please get away from me you are scaring me.“ She felt like crying like she got stones in her throat. Still walking away from him, praying that someone will show up and save her. She felt so small in front of him, no one had ever made her felf like this, like she was some prey.

„What are you doing?“

She turned her head to the new voice that was heard in the kitchen. And she was so glad, felt like she could breathe again. There was you looking at him, no emotion in your face, then you walked up to them and looked right into Percy´s eyes.

She had never seen you like this, you were so serious and didn´t show any emotion. You continue your stare down without blinking. Even though you were shorter than him, not much, you still had a bigger and stronger aura than him.

„Is there a problem?“ Y/N could smell the alcohol from his mouth and could see that he didn´t know what he was doing. So that´s why she knew she couldn´t show that she was scared. It would make him even more confident.

His eyes changed when he realized you were here to get him away from Jenna.

„Charlie, what are you doing? We had a deal! You promised!“ he shouted at his roommate. He knew he shouldn´t trust you. He is sure that you like her. You want to take her away from him!

He started to breathe harder and his eyes became more dangerous. You weren´t scared of him, you were calm and waiting for his next move.

„Leave.“ Y/N said with a low voice, face unimpressed. But before he could say anything else Mason and a couple of others of your teammates came into the kitchen.

Mason walked up to the three of you and stood even taller than Percy. Percy was now in a corner and had nothing to do. So he smiled dryly and walked away.

When he left Y/N turned her gaze to Mason and silently thanked him for standing beside her, he smiled at her with his soft eyes and left with their teammates. You turned down to Jenna and saw her already looking at you. She was hugging herself and looked so gentle and small.

„Hi, you good?“ Y/N asked, almost whispering, waiting for the other girl's answer.

„Yeah.“ She softly let out. She then threw her arms around the taller girl. Head buried in her chest. Y/N hugged Jenna strongly, letting her know that she was there with her.

Yeah, Jenna was sure that you were perfect for her.

next chapter

297 notes · View notes

writeoffside · 4 months ago

Text

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES

♯ battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader - 1/?

summary: An unexpected visitor comes to your work to check out the history of his company, which leads you both to a tense search for the much needed files… Which is pretty tiring for you.

warnings: none - just swearing

info: english isn't my first language, i apologize in advance for all the mistakes (if there are any!)

a/n: working on part 2 now hihihi

The time went slowly when you were stuck in the office. The uncountable amount of times you've checked the clock is absurd.

Papers are all over the table, every single document staring at you back. The highly reflective colored highlighters sitting at the side of your desk. Nearly at their lowest as they've been used so many times in the past few hours. The documents are full of names, places, words, numbers and other symbols. Some names are unknown to you, some familiar.

A sigh escapes your lips, turning to the side to look at the clock on the other side of the room.

It was finally reaching the time you were mostly looking forward to.

5:58, the clock read.

"Thank god," you whispered out to yourself. Slowly gathering all the papers from your table and closing the work laptop in front of you. All the papers are quickly gathered on top of each other and put into a dark purple-colored folder. The color is slowly ripped around the edges of the folder as it has been in use for a very long time. A white — now dark pastel brown like color sticker is in the middle of it. The sticker is pulled at the edges,

but still stays on. Your name written on top of it, written with a dark blue pen. You don't have the heart to switch the folder with a new one. It holds too many memories.

In a quick time, all of the things you've had on your table are safely packed and put inside your bag. All the documents are starting to overflow your folder, which ends up taking the whole space in your bag. You know well that your shoulder is going to be hurting pretty badly when you come back home with the bag draped over it.

Your boss had barged inside your office just a few days ago with multiple folders on top of each other in his hands. When he dropped them all onto your table, it felt like the table itself would drop as well and break down just there.

He started talking about how he needs the documents to be checked, corrected, and put out into mails, then returned... And more instructions were flying onto you from his mouth. Which you've totally ignored, but gave him a nod as you pretended to listen to his instructions. The amount of documents there could be counted into hundreds and hundreds.

Now, thankfully, you were about to just go home and enjoy your night by yourself!

Or so you have thought.

As you were about to move your chair back to the table and make your way out of your office, a knock sounded on your door. Which sounded completely different from the knock your boss' usually gives you on your office door.

With a deep sigh, you made your way towards the door and pushed it open. The person who was standing behind the door was someone that nobody in the entire building would expect.

Bruce fucking Wayne.

"Daniel's not here," you quickly muttered out the first thing that came to your mind. Mentally slapping yourself for such an answer. Of course, your boss wouldn't be there... In your office.

"I'm not here for Mr. Meyer... The receptionist told me that you are the only one in the building with the keys to the archive. Is that so?" He asked lowly and looked back to the hallway that he most likely came from.

"Oh! Yeah... I am the only one with the keys," you chirped, backing away from the door and walking back into your office, "I was just about to go home, but thankfully, you caught me just at the right time!" You laughed your sentence off awkwardly. He remained silent and with no other expression. His stoic' expression remained unchanged.

You opened the drawers of the cabinet, which was near the table and fumbled with the drawer, which keep the keys safe. Finally opening it and pulling out the set of keys that could open the multiple doors of the archive. The keys rattled with a sound as you picked them up from the drawer.

Then in just a moment, you closed the drawers, stood back straight, and looked over to Mr. Wayne, who was still standing outside of the office. Now fidgeting with his fingers, with his head hung low. He stood here, waiting, with no intention to move inside the office to retrieve the keys himself from you.

He was wearing a dark set of brown pants, which weren't skinny nor baggy. A white pastel-like blouse underneath a matching dark brown jacket with its front opened. The little cufflinks with 'W' could be seen on the cuffs of the blouse. His shoes were peeking out from the bottom of the pants. His dark hair was falling into his face and his pale white skin was showing off.

You shuffled back outside and closed the door of your office. Your belongings still inside as you'll have to take the keys back and lock them up back into the drawer after you come back from the archives.

"Okay... We can go now, this way! Down the stairs and then to the archive doors," you told him as he looked up to meet your eyes. His expression still hasn't changed since he knocked on your door.

Both of you made your way towards the staircase with no words uttered between each of you. The steps echoed around as both of you walked down. The sound of your heels hitting the stairs echoed down the staircase.

"If I may ask, Mr. Wayne... Why do you need to go to the archives? Is there something wrong with the documents we've sent back to the Enterprises? We can—" You were quickly cut off by his husky voice.

"No. There's no problem with the documents we've received," his voice cut your rambling quickly, "I've found something else... In the older documents. What my father might still have stored down there, in your archives... I need to check them out for certain reasons," he informed you as you reached the end of the stairs and started walking through the long, hardly lit, hallway.

The walk to the archives felt endless.

The sound of your heels hitting the tiled floor started to echo around the hallway once again. His walk was steady and his steps were long. The awkward silence felt like it grew with each step you both took. You had to walk even quicker than before, to catch up next to him.

"Here it is," you told him as both of you stopped in front of locked doors with a black bold writing on it 'ARCHIVES' and a smaller text underneath which said; 'RESTRICTED AREA; NO ADMITTANCE - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY'

The keys jiggled as you looked through them to find the right one for the first door. The key had a little red cover on it with a little black bold number one, '1' written on it. Meaning that it's for the first door of the archives.

You unlocked the first door and turned to Mr. Wayne to let him in first. With a nod, he entered the room and walked deeper into the room.

"Your father's documents are stored in the more 'locked up' side of the archives, the much more important side," you told him as you closed the door behind you. The room is filled with drawers, shelves and boxes full of important documents, the scent of old paper making its way to your nose.

You quickly make your way towards him, where he's standing by door with '2' written on it and some smaller text underneath it, which you don't care to read as you've been there multiple times before.

You unlock the door and let him in first again. Closing the door after the two of you. You look over as you see him stalk over to the next door at the end of the current archive room.

God, this man has no patience.

"What's up with your father's documents, though? They've been checked, even multiple times and on different occasions... And your father, he used to—" You started rambling to him as you approached him but you were, once again, quickly cut off by him.

"I know. But I have to check something on them. For personal reasons and also to check up on our history, the Wayne Enterprises' history, with others... I know what I'm doing," he snaps back at you sternly, now looking straight at you, into your eyes. His brows furrowed.

The tone that he spoke to you in, was no close to respectful, nor close to being polite. A scoff wanted to make its way out of your mouth, but you rather kept it shut. Your lips press into a thin line as you watch him look back at the door he waits for.

You unlocked the third door and let him in first again. He stops and looks over at you for a split of a moment and then he's turning his body away from you and heading inside, leaving you standing by the door alone.

With another sigh, you make your way inside, closing the door after you.

You made your way towards him, where he was standing. He was standing by the drawers with a big red 'W' written on the label, peeking from the side of the drawers. All of the drawers marked with red 'W' contained all the documents from the Wayne's.

"You can... Um, check the documents you need. Just put them back into their place, where they were placed before," you told him as you watched him open the first set of archive drawers to check through them.

A few minutes went by, he put out about five files out onto a table next to him. He went through every single document and file, flipping through every page he came across.

"Who's this?" He suddenly asked. His finger stopped at a certain part of the document he was reading at the moment.

You stood up from the very much uncomfortable chair that you were sitting on. You made your way towards him and looked over to the documents that he was holding.

He lowered the documents to your height and his finger hovered above a certain name.

Scott Starkey.

His name was crossed out with a black marker. In every sentence, his name was mentioned.

You looked up to meet his eyes and then back down at the name, "He used to be close with your father. He worked hard to reach a position as your father had... Or at least one close to him. He was so ambitious and hungry for success as he, your father, had," you started telling him. Bruce's eyes stayed on you.

"His ambition to get to that position literally consumed him and morphed it all into one huge obsession. He fought against his own limitations. He didn't know when to stop... His friendship with your father started to tear, he couldn't understand why your father had achieved so much so effortlessly. His admiration turned into resentment, anger, and total hatred against him," you told him as you looked up to meet his furrowed expression. His stance was now noticeably different, he was standing straight as he listened to you.

"He dug so deep into your father's personal life. Scott started to spread your father's secrets and things about his personal life, your father's reputation wasn't going to end well for him, or anyone in the Wayne Enterprises if he would have continued," you sighed as you stopped for a moment.

"What happened to him?" Bruce suddenly rasped out into the silence with his question. He looked into your eyes and then down at the documents, which he was holding in his hands. A deep frown on his face after hearing thr backstory from you.

"I don't really know..." you mumbled out to him. Your mind going blank now. They never told anyone what had actually happened to him, he just left everything behind and never came back.

He completely disappeared.

Bruce hummed and closed the file quickly. The dust flew into the air. Floating around the two of you. The files haven't been opened for a long time now.

A cough made its way out of you from the dust. You waved your hand around to get the dust away from your face.

Meanwhile, Bruce turned his body away and opened the next drawer, and took out the first file of documents, reading and listing through them. His brows were furrowed in concentration, eyes running over all the words, numbers, and symbols written on the paperwork.

You went back to sit in the chair you sat in moments prior. You didn't take your phone down there, so you've got no idea what the time currently is. But you know one thing and that is that you should have been home for at least an hour now. Not at work, sitting in the archives, on the most uncomfortable chair ever, and with the Bruce fucking Wayne.

You try to sit comfortably on it as you watch him go through another opened file, which is more of a yellowish color. Must be an older one than the other ones.

As you watch him closely, you can feel your eyelids getting heavier. Your head slowly falls forward, hanging lowly. Your eyelids flutter shut and you can feel yourself drifting away into the darkness.

The sound of traffic and the rhythmic hum of a car wakes you up.

You slowly come to your senses and open your eyes to see the road of Gotham City, full of traffic, in front of you. The rain is falling against the car.

The car. You're in a car.

Your head quickly shoots up to look at your surroundings. You blink a few times as the very unknown and unfamiliar surroundings come into focus.

You're seated in an unknown car in the passenger seat, with a seatbelt on. The interior of the car is black and looks way more luxurious than your car does.

You look to the side and you finally see the driver of the car.

Bruce Wayne is sitting at the driver's side, holding the steering wheel. His side profile is up to your eyes as you watch him from your seat.

His eyes suddenly flicker to yours and you can see a slight hint of a smirk coming up on his face. And then it's quickly gone.

"You're awake," he says, his eyes returning to the road ahead.

"Where... Where am I? I was at the archives. Where are my things?" you groggily ask as you push yourself away from the window that you were leaning against the moments before.

"Wait! The keys! I didn't put them back, didn't lock the doors! Oh my god, Daniel's gonna kill me!" The realization suddenly comes onto you and dawns slowly. You recall your last moments when you were at the archives; sitting in the chair, slowly falling asleep while he checked through the files.

Bruce sighed softly at your rambling, "I locked all three doors. As well put the keys into their place and locked your office," you looked over to him once again as he talked, "your things are in the backseat, don't worry."

You slowly looked over to the backseat and saw your coat and your bag on the seat, with the dark purple folder peeking out. You smiled to yourself.

Then the silence filled the car they were in for a brief moment.

"Thank you... For taking care of the things and taking me with you," you said to him after a few brief moments.

You see him give you a small nod, his gaze never moving from the road and traffic ahead. His hands turn the wheel to the side as the car moves to the left. You recognize the street you're driving through.

"Wait�� How'd you know where I live?" You ask him as you watch the buildings and cars go by through the window.

"A friend of yours told me… Angus?" He answered, his eyes flickering to yours for a moment. His expression is much softer than back in the archives.

"Oh! Angus, yeah..." you sigh as you lean back into the seat, the tiredness creeping back onto you.

You watch the buildings go by and then another turn comes. Then you see your apartment building just a few buildings away from where you're right now.

"This is me," you point out to the building you're nearly at. The building looks like any other ordinary building in Gotham.

Bruce nods as he slows the car down and parks near the curb, in front of your building entrance.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door of the car. Your feet meets the pavement and you stand up. Your body aching from the sleep.

You softly close the front door behind you and make your way toward the back door to get your things out.

You're met with Bruce standing by the other side of the car, with your long coat and bag in his arms. He walks around the back of the car and hands you the items.

"Thank you," you utter to him softly, taking the items from his grasp, "for everything you've done for me today. Means a lot," you smile up at him.

You're so sure that you saw the corners of his mouth turn a bit upwards. A smile wanting to creep up onto his face.

"No problem," he says after a long pause. He nods his head and leans against the back of his car, his arms folded over his chest, and closely watches you stand.

His tone was steady but his eyes and posture said differently. His eyes held a hint of something even more. A very subtle, small smile coming up onto his face couldn't even be seen.

An awkward silence took over your small conversation.

You shuffled from side to side on your feet, looking down to the ground before meeting his eyes once again.

"So... Well, I should probably... I should probably head in," you say with a small smile to him, clutching your bag and coat to your chest.

"Oh, yeah... Of course!" He quickly replied with a shake of his head. As he pushed himself off the car.

You gave him another shy smile and turned yourself around to leave, walking up the stairs to the entrance of the apartment building. As you reached for the door, you looked back and lifted a hesitant hand to give an awkward wave to him.

Turning back and opening the door to the building. Your steps finally met the surface of the tiled floor of your apartment building's first floor.

You take a quick glance over your shoulder and catch your eyes with him once again.

Then he lifts his hand as well, and a very hesitant wave comes back to you. A smile plastered on his face. His smile grows as he watches you disappear into the apartment building. A warm feeling spreading through his chest.

With a final glance at the building, he walks around and gets back into his car. The childish smile not leaving his face at all.

The whole ride back is quiet. But he can hear his heart beat so loudly inside of his chest. As he drives, he can only think of one certain thing. His mind is stuck.

He only thinks of you.

PART TWO

bruce wayne fic is here! i'm so obsessed with battinson hahahah

give it some love if u liked it thank uu <3

147 notes · View notes

broadwayfan92 · 5 months ago

Text

Am I the only one who likes Colin and Penelope in S3 part 2?

Part 2 was always going to be about Colin finding out about LW. Yes, he was very, very mad, but it was understandable because of what Pen wrote about Marina, Eloise and himself. Yes, he was harsh, but remember how he treated Marina in S1 after he found out she was pregnant? He was very upset and angry, and said some things he shouldn’t have said.

However, this time it’s different, Colin knew he was in love with Penelope and still wanted to marry her. He found out about LW right before their wedding, so it makes sense he’s going to need time and space to digest that information. He loved her, but he also was hurt, angry, conflicted, jealous and in love. That's a lot of emotions to sort out. Just like with Marina, he said some things he shouldn't have. Colin is VERY sensitive, which is his best and worst character trait.

However, he was able to put aside his anger during the wedding and reassure Penelope with a nod that he wanted her to walk down the aisle. The love in his eyes was evident every time Pen was with him. Just when everything was fine and when it seemed like that they could work it out, the queen comes in saying one of the Bridgertons is LW. When he asked Pen to give up her column in that moment, she said no. Of course Colin was upset, especially since they hadn't moved past this roadblock.

Colin tried to save Penelope from Cressida’s blackmail, but made things worse and he hated that he couldn’t help. He's so used to helping Pen that he's never seen her be independent and work things out on her own. In the end, Colin realized he didn’t need to be a hero and Pen didn't need saving. It took time, but he worked through his emotions and was able to be the husband she needed. He accepted his wife’s choice and stood at her side. He loved Penelope deeply and was devoted to her.

Penelope also went through her own arc. She’s realized that she’s made huge mistakes because of her writing. She was trying to do better with the power she held, even if she couldn’t change the past.

She was going to tell Colin about LW, but kept getting interrupted or it was not the right time. She even gave up LW up after talking to her mother and Eloise. Pen only started writing again when Cressida nearly succeeded in trying to take credit for her work. Penelope stood up for herself and told Colin at their wedding that she wasn’t going to stop writing because LW was her work. Unfortunately, it drove a wedge in her and Colin's relationship because he didn't like keeping her identity a secret anymore than she did. In the end, she found her voice, formed her own plan and came clean. The truth was out and she was free of the secret that was too difficult and too dangerous to keep.

No, Colin did not need to go to Penelope during or right after her speech. That was HER time and part of both their arcs. She was owning up to her mistakes and actions, and Colin didn’t need to save her. He was looking at her with the love and support she needed. He nodded in encouragement and pride. Their time as a couple was after her moment in the spotlight.

These are flawed characters shaped by their home lives and experiences that life threw at them for 3 seasons. This was about two people growing, accepting each other for who they are and the love between them conquering everything else. Forgiveness was also a big part of their stories. Penelope had to forgive herself for her mistakes and ask for it, while Colin had to forgive Penelope.

Throughout the season, Colin had to learn to be himself instead of what society expected of him and to not be the hero. Penelope had to learn to come out of her shell and find her voice outside of LW. This is a big accomplishment for two characters who are at least 19 and 22 at the start of S3.

Side note: I’ve noticed the writers like drama for every couple on Bridgerton, particularly the last four episodes. S1 was heavy on lack of communication. S2 dealt with not wanting to fall in love. S3 dealt with secrets. Both of the main characters of these seasons aren't 100% happy until at least the last 10 minutes of the last episode.

I think in S4 we’ll see Colin and Penelope as a happier and stronger couple. However, I don’t expect to see a lot of them, similar to Anthony and Kate in S3 and Daphne in S2. Once the couples are married, they don’t seem to get a lot of screen time in order to make room for the next main pairing, but are there to offer advice. Personally, I hope next season is Benedict's.

Anyway, loved this season! Polin forever!

#just my thoughts #just my opinion #bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton season 3 #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #penelope bridgerton #polin

109 notes · View notes

yuurei20 · 1 year ago

Note

Hello. Can I ask about Leona and Azul's contract? Leona doesn't talk about details of the contract and just destroys it along with other contracts. I was thinking, is the contract that Leona made with Azul the same one that Ruggie was able to get potions with in Chapter 2? Right? Or is it rather something different that history doesn't tell us about?

Hello hello!! Thank you so much for this question, it was a rabbit hole!

There might have been some translation confusion on EN in relation to Leona’s past with Azul, but maybe not(?) and it is very interesting.

Early on in Chapter 3 Leona says that he has “made a few deals” with Azul and has “never” put his power up for collateral, insinuating that he has had multiple contracts with Azul (one of which was the potion for Ruggie in Chapter 2, as you say!).

But at the end of Chapter 3 Ruggie (on EN) says that Leona has made “a contract” (singular) with Azul before, and helping Jack and the others is a way for him to get rid of “it” (singular), as if the potion contract from Chapter 2 is Leona’s only experience with Azul. So which is it?

This might be an EN-server continuity error, or it might be hinting at something else!

The Japanese language does not really have plurals in the same way that English does. In the cafeteria scene, for example, the first part of Leona’s sentence just says that he has made a deal/deals with Azul before, not specifying whether he has only done so once or multiple times. The latter half of the sentence confirms that he has done so more than once, as he says he was forced to fulfill unpleasant conditions “every time”. (So I believe you are correct! There seems to be a history there that is being hinted at but not explained.)

When the topic comes up again with Ruggie it is not technically specified within his sentence that Leona has contracted with Azul more than once, but we know he has from that earlier conversation.

The EN server translated this scene as Leona getting rid of just a single contract, despite confirming earlier in the same chapter that he has made more than one.

The EN server does not have a very good track record with continuity (examples provided below), so this might just be an example of the importance of proofreading.

But if Azul doesn't keep contracts that have been successfully fulfilled, this might not be a mistake!

If Azul’s 500 to 600 contracts represent every deal that Azul has ever made, then EN-Ruggie was a victim of translation: Leona wasn’t taking the opportunity to get rid of just one contract, he was getting rid of all proof that he has ever contracted with Azul at all.

But if Azul doesn’t keep fulfilled contracts (only those that enable him to hold onto collateral) and EN-Ruggie is right, that means that Leona’s contract from Book 2 was never complete: he either failed to fulfill the terms and Azul confiscated his collateral, or his contract was still ongoing. (Grammatically, JP Ruggie can technically go both ways.)

And that gets into another question, because Leona says that he has never put magic up for collateral for any of his contracts with Azul, much like the prefect surrendering Ramshackle Dorm.

If the disintegration of a contract that has sealed away someone’s talent returns that talent to its owner, does the disintegration of a contract that was arranged through another form of collateral return that collateral as well?

(I keep imagining a hypothetical situation where, if Azul took someone's favorite pen in middle school as collateral for a failed contract, did it magically return to its original owner when the contract was disintegrated in Chapter 3? Or will the owner never know that now they can go get their pen back from Azul? The introduction of his unique magic only specifies that he can take people's talents from them (translated as "power" on EN), but taking Ramshackle from the Prefect opens a lot of doors.)

Would Azul have technically have been able to keep Ramshackle Dorm if the Prefect failed in their task, even though the original contract was gone? (The prefect fulfills their conditions by the deadline, so we do not see this tested.)

It all hinges on what those 500 to 600 contracts are: every deal that Azul has ever made in his life, or just those that failed.

Arguments in favor of them being his entire collection are:

1) Up to 600 people failing to fulfill their contracts with him over the course of two to three years (Azul perfected his unique magic in middle school) seems like a lot. If those are all the contracts he has ever made, he has to have been making an average of 1.8 contracts a day, every single day since he was 15 years old, which is already intense. That number increases exponentially if those contracts are only the ones that failed.

2) The contracts could technically be future blackmail, if there is someone (like Leona) who really does not want the details of his dealings to be revealed, making them another form of power that it seems unlikely Azul would voluntarily throw away.

3) Since EN players are at the mercy of localization I asked a few JP server players their opinions, and amongst native speakers playing the original game the general consensus is that they are supposed to represent every contract that Azul has ever made.

4) Ruggie mentions Azul getting bent out of shape because something he's been "building up for years" was ruined.

In favor of them being only failed contracts:

1) 600 might seem like a lot, but 225 of those are just from the opening of Chapter 3. It's insinuated that this is the first time Azul has gone this big this quickly, but we don't actually know: it's possible he's been experimenting with increasingly large groups of people for months or years leading up to Chapter 3.

2) The risks of holding onto completed contracts seem like they should outweigh the benefits. We don’t know what happens to a contract once it is fulfilled, but it seems unlikely that Azul would keep them unless they held some form of power: the more contracts he is protecting, the larger his only weakness. It seems like he wouldn’t want to keep superfluous contracts around and draw more attention to his weak point unless he absolutely had to, in which case, what kind of power do they hold after their conditions have been met that justifies that risk?

3) Azul does not seem to suffer any consequences from tearing up his own contracts despite how they are powerful magical artifacts, making it unlikely that he would have been holding onto every contract he has ever made unless there is something going on that we don’t know about (which is always possible; even if they don’t hold any power, maybe he just enjoys the nostalgia?)

So to return to the questions:

One of the contracts that Leona has made with Azul is the same that acquired that Chapter 2 potion for Ruggie. That is not the only contract Leona and Azul have made together, but it might be the only one that Leona disintegrated, if Azul does not keep old contracts and if Leona's contract was still ongoing or he failed to fulfill it--we don't actually know. It's possible that Azul was holding onto all of their past contracts together, and Leona seized the opportunity to erase all proof of what he'd hired Azul to do (which is a common interpretation on JP).

A lot has been going on that we don't know about! How long has Leona been contracting with Azul? What has he been putting up for collateral? Has he always met the conditions of these contracts, or has he failed? If he has ever failed, was that mysterious collateral returned to him when he disintegrated Azul's contracts, or was he only destroying evidence? Is Azul somehow forced to return collateral that is a physical object when a contract is annulled? Does Azul even keep successfully fulfilled contracts and, if so, why, when the contracts themselves are his only weakness?

I wish had I more answers than questions! I do not, but it is very fun to think about! :> Thank you again!

#twstask #Azul Ashengrotto #Leona Kingscholar #twstdialogue

170 notes · View notes

audiblehush · 7 months ago

Text

Listen, I’m on the “I’ll believe it when I see it” train with all these inconsistent S3 rumors because 1) LOL the fucking Sun, people, really?! and 2) “Well, the friend of my friend said… and they’re really reliable! Trust me!” 🙄

But even if it all ends up being true: I’ve already seen a handful of great posts talking about no, it’s NOT actually harming Colin’s character, thanks, and would make a lot of sense from what we know about where he’s at mentally so far - I’ll try not to rehash stuff they’ve already argued really well… and probably fail once i get going 😬

But I would also like to throw out that canonically… Book!Colin ALSO had experience prior to his relationship with Penelope?? Not to rakeish levels, but yeah, he had sexual encounters with women… That he then specifically mentions as meaning NOTHING once he compares it to what he has with Penelope because with her there is actual LOVE built over YEARS of INTIMACY.

And since Show!Colin is markedly younger than his book counterpart, it would make sense that this is something he is exploring, whether the initial choice is through coercion from his brother(s), or because he is curious, or… whatever he reason is?? It doesn’t matter??

He’s YOUNG. Being young means being curious about sex! It often means learning over time the difference between mere physicality vs intimacy. Learning about sex can be messy, confusing, wonderful, terrible, mediocre, not what you thought it’d be, etc etc etc.

Regardless of if we’re taking about Penelope OR Colin: Context is everything and WE. DON’T. HAVE. ANY. YET.

Penelope has her own coping mechanism for what she’s dealing with on her own throughout the show with LW; why is Colin any different, whether that’s drinking, tea, sex, etc? He’s clearly exploring different aspects of himself and finding what appeals or doesn’t appeal to him. And that’s normal!!

The IRONY of people claiming they’re furious at Colin treating women like sex toys… when that’s exactly how some people view Colin for Penelope. He is more than a prop for her! Their whole story is that they choose each other after years of self discovery and recognition of each others true selves… ALL of their past experiences included.

Even if the rumored second instance is true… 1) it would clearly be used as a way to prove that he’s miserable and NEEDS love and Pen and intimacy and 2) characters make mistakes... often ones they learn from. Pen has made her fair share of poor choices, too. Colin has and WILL make mistakes because that is what interesting, developing characters do, yet y’all act like he is unforgivable for being given his own plot scenes. He is NOT just there to have sex with Penelope!! He is a character outside of his romance with his own struggles to grapple with!

Also, please be real - this was SO NORMAL for men during this era, especially at his age! Why are MODERN DAY AUDIENCES acting so fucking scandalized?? One or two instances doesn’t even make him a real rake, ESPECIALLY if it’s being framed as him realizing it isn’t what he ultimately wants! Why are you even watching this show if something like this is so offensive to you?!

If all this ends up being accurate (which again, I doubt), I will admit I’ll probably be picky about how it’s handled… but I’ve always felt that way about this pairing in the short time I’ve been in the fandom.

But I NEED people to chill the fuck out until the season actually airs. You’re lambasting something you HAVEN’T EVEN SEEN YET.

#bridgerton #polin #colin bridgerton #BREAKING: HEALTHY AND CURIOUS YOUNG MAN TRIES OUT SEX IN ERA-APPROPRIATE FASHION #MORE AT ELEVEN #I did not get out of Catholicism to be seeing this pearl clutching in a SMUTTY REGENCY SHOW #take your great value Christianity purity culture and GTFO

76 notes · View notes

mandiemegatron · 1 year ago

Text

ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜʟᴇꜱꜱ

Trafalgar Law x Y/N ficlet

Fluff, general care, hella smooching, slightly toasty 👀, hand massage, Law being a softie✨️💖

A/N: Something I thought up after seeing @kittycatzuka post here, it gave me the feels and this is what my brain thought up.

I hope you all enjoy! ✨️💖

Also, I just spent like an hour beta-ing it so if you see any mistakes, no you don't. 😎 okay love you my lil tangerines! ✨️💖

Header by @baka-tsuki / @baka-tsuki-2 💖

It was supposed to be a quiet night for the captain. All the man wanted to do was finish his paperwork, read some Sora and pass out into a restless sleep.

Since Y/N showed up, it never seemed to work out the way Law wanted. Every night, she'd knock on his office door to say goodnight, no matter the amount of times he tried to tell her she didn't have to, that she could just simply go to bed and he'd see her in the morning for breakfast. It never deterred her, her smiling face always popping in through the cracked door with a small wave.

This night was different.

Law glanced over at the clock on his desk, frowning to himself as he realized you were late, not showing up around the time you usually did. He then paused, curiously irritated at realizing the fact that he was worried, immediately thinking the worst had happened you.

He let his pen drop to the desk as his other hand ran through his hair, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath. God, he was exhausted.

There was a soft thunk as ceramic hit his desk, his eyes snapping open to see you placing a fresh cup of tea right above his incomplete paperwork.

"Y/N-ya."

You cracked a tired smile of your own before hiding a yawn behind your now free hand, lifting your mug in a silent cheers to him as you sat in the chair opposite his desk.

"Saw your light was on, thought maybe you could use a little something," your voice was soft as you spoke, unable to hide how tired you were from his prying eyes.

"While I appreciate it, you should be in bed already. We have a big day tomorrow," he replied, gently picking up the hot mug with a sigh through his nose. Yeah, he definitely needed this.

"So should you, dear Captain."

He huffed gently, staring you down before taking a long sip.

"I'm not done my job for the day."

You cracked a grin at the sight of him complaining, his distaste for the job showing itself very clearly.

"I can give you a hand, if that'll help?"

He hummed in disagreement into the mug, taking another sip before replying,

"You'd only make it take longer."

While there was teasing in his tone, you couldn't hide the way your grin slowly slid from your lips, your eyes glancing down at the mug in your hands. He kicked himself as a pain clutched around his chest, hating that he made you look that way.

"... I appreciate the offer, Y/N, thank you. Your company helps more than enough."

Your eyes flickered back to his at his words, your cheeks tinting pink as you murmured,

"... glad to help."

It was only for a moment but it felt like ages, the way his eyes bored into yours. It was like you were a puzzle he was trying to slove and couldn't, his frustration showing in his gaze. Your heart jumped into your throat, your mind screaming at him to just kiss you, to say something, to tell you everything you wanted him to say-

The moment broke as he went back to his scribbling, one hand around his mug while the other scratched away. You made yourself more comfortable in the large chair, your eyes wandering his face, not knowing he could feel your very hungry gaze on him.

Pride washed over him, his ego flaring as a smirk ticked up his lips. He did have a feeling you liked him, but this moment here proved to him that he was right.

"See something you like, Y/N?"

There was a heavy silence as your eyes widened, unsure of how to respond so you remained quiet, simply watching him for any signs of a joking manner.

You were incredibly confused when you could only sense a serious air around him.

It took a moment to gather courage but you did finally respond, looking down at your mug for a moment before glancing back to him as you commented lightly,

"Surely it's obvious that I do."

The air was so thick it could have been sliced with a butterknife. You both stared at each other for what felt like ages before you looked away first, unable to handle the heat of his gaze on you like this.

"... good to know."

His response caused you to grin, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you bit back a happy sound, not wanting to feed his already giant ego. A more comfortable silence covered you both as he went back to his work, now motivated to finish it quicker than before.

You'd drank your entire tea by the time he finally finished. You'd been slouched lazily in the chair, glancing around his office with mildly bored eyes, having already taken everything in to the point you could name off each book and it's order on the shelf. He yawned loudly, rubbing his face with both hands before standing, placing his completed work off to the side before coming around his desk to stand by you, leaning on it for support.

"You should get some rest," you started, giving a yawn of your own and going to move before you noticed him massaging his hand. You looked up at him, his exhausted expression filling your chest with a ache you didn't enjoy.

You had to do something.

Placing the empty mug beside him, you then reached out and gently took his writing hand into your own warm palms, you began massaging his own, your thumbs pressing down to the point where he grunted softly.

"Yeah, I know it sucks but this is what happens when you don't take proper breaks," you murmured, focusing on doing your best not to look up at him, your cheeks burning so hot that you began to worry you gave yourself a fever.

A particularly illicit groan left your Captain when you pressed at one point, your eyes finally flicking up at him for just a moment and you couldn't help but smile at seeing his relaxed expression. His eyes were shut, his chest rising and falling as he took slow, deep breaths.

Your heart clenched - you wished he looked like this more, so quiet and tender -

Your thoughts stopped as you looked back to his hand, your thumbs working down to his wrist and forearm, not noticing him leaning closer to you to give you better reach.

It took only a few minutes, letting his arm gently drop to his side as you held your hands palm up out for his other one.

"Other hand, please!"

He was silent the entire time, lifting his hand to you as you did the same thing, starting at his palm before going to his long fingers, showing them love and stretching them before moving down to his wrist and forearm.

You were so focused that you didn't noticed his free hand coming catch your chin, his long fingers lifting your face gently. Your eyes met and your stomach churned, knowing your face was still bright red as he looked over your face. Your fingers had stopped, clamped gently around his forearm.

You couldn't place the look he was giving you, trying to convince yourself that he was not giving you bedroom eyes - the man was exhausted, for fucks sake! But you couldn't help how your body warmed at his touch, wanting so desperately to lean into his touch.

The sudden fear of rejection hit you like a ton of bricks. You must have made a face because his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, almost as if trying to comfort you.

"You look worried," he breathed out, his breath so warm and so close that it danced across your face. Your eyes were locked in an intense gaze, his dark and craving; yours wide and needy in your own right. Warmth pooled in your lower region as his eyes looked down at your lips for a moment, the air suddenly heavy once again as his gaze met yours again.

"I... I am worried," you finally whispered, eyes never leaving his. He moved closer again, so slowly that it felt like he was teasing you.

"Why?"

Not a question, a demand.

"... because I'm scared that you'll kiss me and I'll get attached."

A slow, wicked grin came over his features when you finally spoke.

"As if you're not already attached."

His words felt like a punch to your gut, causing you to gasp out softly before his lips consumed yours, both your eyes falling shut as he took what he wanted. It wasn't a soft kiss, but it wasn't demanding either. It held just enough emotion that you felt the anxiety of earlier wash off you like a wave, your shoulders unconsciously dropping though your hands remained on his arm.

When he finally pulled away, you were a mess. Your heart was pounding so loud in your ears, it felt like vertigo. Your eyes slowly reopened, confusion and hope written across your face like an open book as you stared at him. You were nearly breathless as you somehow got out,

"Um... Wow."

Law blinked a few times before he broke down, laughing so loud and hysterically that he pulled away from you, leaning over with his hands on his knees. You sat there blinking, feeling even more confused, wondering what the hell was going on. His laughter echoed in the room, and probably the entire sub but clearly he was gone, absolutely fucked up.

Just straight up bonkers.

When he finally calmed, one hand came up to wipe away the laughter tears as he leaned back up, a wide smile on his face as he took a moment to collect himself.

He finally looked down at you, your own almost nervous smile etched into your face as you waited for him to explain himself.

"You, Y/N-ya, are something else, you know? How you've flipped my life upside down."

The amount of sincerity in his voice immediately made you begin to tear up, you're heart leaping from your chest into your throat and stopping you from responding. You simply gave your own genuine smile in return, one hand quickly wiping away the few tears that slipped out.

A heavy hand landed on the top of your head, long fingers rustling your hair as Law gave another chuckle. Your smile remained as your swiped at his hand, his own grin turning cheeky as he lightly slapped your hand away.

There was a pause between you two, with him running a tired hand through his hair as you rubbed at your face, biting back a yawn. As he took in your exhausted form, he knew it was time for you both to hit the hay.

"You crazy brat. Go to bed," he started, moving his hands to grasp your own and pulling you out of the chair. He turned you and walked you to the door just a few feet away, opening it but holding you to him, his hands on your shoulders. You noted they were shaking slightly through hazy thoughts as his warm chest hit your back.

"I'll see you at breakfast. Save me a seat?"

His breath brushed over your ear, causing your skin to erupt in goosebumps. He didn't give you enough time to respond, giving you a quick shove out the door before closing it behind you.

You stared at the wall of the Tang, blinking a few times before your mouth finally started working again.

"What the actual fuck just happened?"

A/N: HEHEHEE we love a sly, flirty Law 🙈🙈🙈🙈 I'm gunna smooch him so hard, idk abt you guys 😂😂🥵🥵🙈🙈 I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I did !

Smooch smooch, be good my lil tangerines! 🍊💋

#mandies mumbles ; fanfics #ok to rb #trafalagar law #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x y/n #one piece #one piece fluff #we love a soft silly law in this house ! 💖#thank you sm zuka youre the best !!

287 notes · View notes

frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year ago

Text

i'm outta my head over you (Pt. 2)

Prologue (Pt. 1) | On AO3 here: i'm outta my head over you | the playlist

Pt 2 to my @steddie-week 2023 entry! this is really the 'first day' entry, but pt. 1 is the prologue :P

today's prompt is: pining

Eddie takes his time after Robin leaves. Finishing the cigarette she made him put out and doing his best to focus on the tune he was expirimenting with on his acoustic before he was interrupted. The curiosity gets the best of him though (of course) and he sets his guitar back down, picking up the papers Robin had handed to him.

He starts to read what he had (correctly) thought was a tracklist.

'Heartbeat? Okay, so it's a sappy love playlist.' He thinks to himself. "The hell's that got to do with me?" he asks aloud to no one.

There's a slightly lighter colored scrawl of "Dustin doctor FRIDAY at 3" written into the top margin of this scanned page, like someone had used a different color pen than the rest of the book, and continuing on--

Oh fuck.

Oh shit.

Eddie reads the first sentence, and he suddenly feels like he's going into cardiac arrest.

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

Looking back, Steve counts himself insanely lucky that it was Nancy he was dating when he first really noticed Eddie Munson.

Of course, he’d noticed the older boy before, it was hard not to, but the first time he really looked at him, really saw him…he wanted to throw up.

He was actually really pretty. Wait, can a guy be pretty? It doesn’t matter. Eddie is.

His hair is dark and curly, some curls licking down his face and swirling over his cheekbones, some curling up behind his ears. If it was straight, his hair would definitely look like an overgrown bowlcut. Fuck, it looked soft.

Eddie’s a year above him, a Senior, so it kind of makes sense that he’s a bit broader than Steve is..wait, is he? Or is it just that vest he’s wearing, making him look bigger…

His eyes are dark, brows furrowed, lips yanked back in a snarl–oh yeah, he was in the middle of telling someone off. That’s what called Steve’s attention to him.

“Steve? Are you okay?”

He wrenches his eyes from the side of Eddie’s face to look down at Nancy. He locks eyes with her and was when he noticed how hard his heart was beating.

That, and the fact her eyes were the wrong color.

‘Wrong color?? The hell? They’re blue, they’ve always been blue.’

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Nance.” Steve looks back up at Eddie. “He’s kinda scary isn’t he. Should I do something?”

“Steve–”

He doesn’t wait for her answer, and approaches Eddie and whoever it is that earned his tirade.

Steve pushes through the gathered crowd, right next to Eddie’s victim. “What’s happening here, guys?” Steve’s snarky ‘King Steve’ smile appears easily on his face, then he notices who he came in next to. “Tommy? What’re you doing man?”

“Oh you know, the usual.” Tommy’s grin makes Steve sick to his stomach. He looks away, down to the empty plastic fountain pop in his hand.

“The usual, huh?” Steve scoffs, turning to Eddie.

Mistake. Mistake!

Eddie’s dark eyes lock with his and Steve feels weak in the knees ‘ What the hell?? ’

“Welcome to the show, my liege!” Eddie bows low, and Steve sees the short kid that was hiding behind him. Must be a freshman, huge, panicked eyes stare at him under a mass of poofy curly hair (lighter than Eddie’s). An oversized red plaid flannel is resting on his shoulders, and a large dark stain coats his shirt beneath. Ah.

Eddie straightens, and the little freshman is obscured again. That’s when he realizes the denim vest Eddie is wearing is all he’s wearing above the waist. Steve’s stomach twists pleasantly at the sight of Eddie’s pale skin. ‘ What. The. Fuck. Don’t turn red, look away, look away!! ’

Steve locks eyes with Eddie once again, and it’s not much better. Fuck, those eyes…

What the hell is happening to him?? His heart’s beating like crazy. He glances over, and Nancy and her ginger friend with the glasses are watching, twin looks of panic and disgust on their faces.

“Munson here was just introducing me to one of our new little friends!” Tommy’s tone makes Steve’s stomach twist unpleasantly.

“Really Tommy, a freshman? How cliché can you get? Leave the kid alone, man.”

“Really Dude?” Tommy mocks, “What’s it to you? That girl’s making you slip, man.”

It’s not entirely false; it is true that Nancy’s made it easier to get out from behind his King Steve self more often than not, but there was always a part of him that wanted to be better.

Steve just shrugs. “No more messing with the freshmen, Tommy. Show’s over, assholes, get out of here!” he yells over the crowd as he turns his back on his friend’s(?) sputtering face. Facing Eddie again, he asks, “Sorry, Munson, your friend okay?”

Ugh. Even he cringes inwardly at how insincere that sounded. How’d that come out so wrong?

Eddie just gives him a look, and shakes his head, “C’mon Gareth,” he wraps a long arm around the kid behind him while still shielding him from view. “Our benevolent ruler has allowed us to leave unharmed; let’s abscond before he changes his mind.” Eddie shoots Steve another glare over his shoulder and disappears into the dispersing crowd of students.

Nancy and her friend stay behind. Barb. Her name is Barb.

Barb says something to Nancy, and when she nods in return, Barb leaves for her next class.

Nancy moves to step up to his side again, but he’s whirled around and Tommy’s in his face.

“What the fuck is your deal, Harrington?”

Steve shoves him back, “I already fuckin’ told you. Leave the freshmen alone.”

It’s not a lot, he knows Tommy’s going to over-correct and start berating the sophomore class relentlessly, but that kid looked so scared.. Fuck, he’s a coward.

“You’re going soft, Harrington.” Tommy shoulder checks him as he walks past him and past Nancy, who gives him a wide berth.

“Sorry, Nance.” he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

She levels him with a look. “What was with you and that senior?”

“Nothing, nothing!” he holds his hands up in surrender.

The look on her face says she doesn’t believe him.

Not that much longer after that, she knows he wasn’t telling the truth. After getting beaten up by Jonathan Byers, Barb going missing from his backyard, almost dying…his whole world being turned upside-down (hah), he deserves to tell someone the truth about his not crush on Eddie Munson…

He asks her “Munson’s pretty right? I mean, for a guy.”

“Do you think he’s pretty, Steve?” she asks in lieu of a response, soft tone and smile letting him know he’s okay to talk to her about it.

His stomach twists, he wants to throw up. He still really likes Nancy, still likes girls, why does he feel all gooey about a guy ? About Eddie ?

“I don’t know, Steve.” She says. Oh shit, he said that out loud. “But it’s okay that you do, you know. I won’t see you any differently.”

The knot in his stomach loosens slightly.

She looks down at her hands where they’re folded in her lap. “It’d be hypocritical of me if I did.”

Steve hugs her then. They stay together, they’re just fine…until they’re not.

They drift apart after that. They hang on for a while, they do care for each other afterall, but everything falls apart at that damn Halloween party.

Steve doesn’t blame her, not fully. Especially when he’s been not so subtly mooning after someone else (Nancy smiles knowingly at him every time she catches him staring at Eddie across the hall or across the cafeteria), and especially not after as much as she’s had to drink.

She’s right to call their relationship bullshit, even if it stings, because it kinda was. Him pining hopelessly after some guy, but still desperately trying to hold onto what he thinks he needs to do while doing so.

Trying to hold onto the future that he’s expected to have. A wife, a house with a picket fence, two kids. All that.

Nancy starts dating Jonathan, and Steve’s happy for them, really, but even he doesn’t know how okay he actually is until he’s jumped in Reefer Rick’s boathouse.

There’s a forearm across his chest, an elbow digging into his right shoulder, a hip pressed to his own, another face only inches away, and he’s head over fucking heels.

Those dark eyes that haunted him in the halls of Hawkins High are suddenly so close he can see just how rich a brown they really are, even around the sheer panic in their forefront.

The dark curls that Steve wanted to wrap around his fingers three years ago are longer, more full, down to Eddie’s shoulders now, though dirty and matted in some places from his time on the run.

If there wasn’t a broken glass bottle pressed to his neck right now, he’d be fully tempted to just plant one on the other man. Instead, Steve stays perfectly still, echoing anything Dustin says that might get the sharp glass away from his jugular.

Eddie’s eventually convinced to let Steve go, but somehow keeps hold of his heart. Metaphorically wrenching it from Steve’s chest and tucking it away into an inner pocket of his leather jacket.

‘This is the literal worst time for this shit, Harrington, pull yourself together.’ Steve chides himself as he catches his breath. ‘Save him. Get him out of this first, THEN you can worry about your feelings for him.’

Awesome, great plan.

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

Ok.

Yep.

This is a thing that is happening to him today.

The tape in his hand, the messy scrawled notes that were so lovingly delivered to him, were made by Steve "The Hair" Harrington about him, Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

He must've died back there in the upside down. This is not real.

How has Steve been pining for him for that long? Especially if that first entry is true, all the way back when now-about-to-go-into-Senior-year Gareth had just started at Hawkins High??

Eddie stops himself from reading the rest of Steve's (Steve's!!) handwriting to dash inside to the phone. The rest of this deserves to be read with the tape playing anyway.

First things first: "Robin! Birdie, Buckley, best woman in the world!" he yells, vibrating where he stands with the phone against his ear.

"Munson. To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asks, infuriatingly nonchalant.

"You know damn well why I'm calling. This is Steve's tape?" He's only slightly embarrassed by the anxious squeak that comes out of him when he says Steve's name.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Robin says, then promptly hangs up on him.

Part 3!

yes, i did in fact use my own handwriting as steve's :o)

#steddie #steddieweek2023 #steddie week 2023 #steve harrington #eddie munson #pining #mixtape #songfic #(kinda)#st #st fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #robin buckley #noelle writes

266 notes · View notes

mysticcollectionbee · 1 year ago

Text

Loki season 2 Ep.5

(SPOILERS)

This just gonna be a list of things I’m obsessing over in the new episode by order of importance to me (I’m sorry):

GOD. OF. STORIES. Buildup. YES!!! From the episode title to Loki specifically mentioning saving their stories (only other time he mentioned stories to represent a person’s life was in the very first episode of this show I think). I’m way too excited.

Mobius…I’m sorry this will be mainly Lokius based. *Ahem* Mobius a single dad who can’t shut up about being single and the only person he talks about stuff that isn’t just Jet-Ski related is Loki. Everyone else he meets he kinda just stays on topic but Loki; “Hey, stranger who might of followed me from work, want a beer? I’m also a single dad.” And two things I feel like I see differently than a lot of the fandom: a) I don’t think Don (Just remembered that’s his name) has a dead wife. Like, who describes your wife being dead as ‘Long gone’ and immediately tries to pawn off a belonging that you used as a couple? b) People saying the kids act like Loki and Thor which means Mobius represents Odin but…Odin kinda sucked as a dad? And Frigga was a MASSIVE part of raising the kids, so an Odin variant being able to step in is. Unrealistic. Oh and Hela? Hi??? Hela exists. So nah, I think they made it that way the same way they made Thor adopt Love, to fix the mistakes of the past generation with the new ones. Thor is raising Love unlike how his father raised him. Loki could raise the brothers to not have the same issues he had with his own brother, and what they both had issues with when raised together by Odin.

(Last one was long) I think I made a theory a long time ago that Casey/Frank was related to the unsolved case of the guys escaping Alcatraz. Could be wrong, if not, hey one of my theories was right!

O.B. my baby boi was a failed Sci-Fi writer that ended up inspiring the god of stories to save all the stories across the multiverse. He’s secretly the most important writer character in the MCU :’)

B-15 being a nurse makes a lot of sense and explains why she became softer and more focused on helping others after she got her memories back. Her true nature of helping others came back to her, which probably ask explains why she really hate the idea of pruning people again.

I want to talk about Sylvie and all the neat stuff about her…But my Bi brain keeps getting distracted by that scene of her without her jacket…She’s- she’s great here too 👍

Final unimportant thing: Any Doctor who fan get time explanation flashback the moment O.B picked up that mug with pens in it? “I’m a pen in a mug?” “Yes you are, Donna Noble.”

#loki season 2 #loki #mcu #marvel #lokius #sylvie #theory #b 15 #sylvie laufeydottir #casey #o.b.#tva #mobius m mobius

119 notes · View notes

akosijayjay · 8 months ago

Text

January and February dump

This is my most recent work of Lloyd, and my most recent work in general. I made this in the computer room at school with a painful high-sensitive mouse. We have these special course thing in our junior high, so every tuesday after class, I get to be in the computer room. For six hours... (My course is Visual Graphics Design. I'm kinda regretting it now since I've been thinking of becoming an architect... I can't change my course now since it's too late. Which is stupid.)

I'll try to draw more there! I really like drawing with a mouse cause I like the challenge. And since I'm not accustomed to a high-sensitive mouse, it'll be a bigger challenge for me!

I made these two in traditional then polished them digitally since I straight up just used a pen. I rarely use a pencil nowadays so I can learn to fix mistakes without erasing it. Usually it ends up looking like chicken scratch but I'm getting better.

My Harumi one is so bad lol.. When I was making it, my classmates around me were messing around and moving the chairs in the process, making me have to draw strokes with shaky lines. It's not that noticeable though since I made the lines thicker.

I was planning to make something for Rebooted's anniversary but I got busy... (And lazy) The PIXAL one was inspired by an animatic I saw.

If you compare the previous Arin portrait, yes, they don't look the same. I'm trying to find a look for Arin, as I do with every character, that I'll be satisfied with.

By the way, I'm kind of basing Arin's hair with my classmate's hair. Which is funny because my other classmates compared this artwork to my classmate, who looked nothing like Arin but have similar hair, commenting they're the same. (I'm not mad because I actually find this a bit humorous)

I was trying to make an animatic and this was going to be the sketch. But then again, I got busy and lazy. (Mostly lazy)

I accidentally changed their facial features a bit by accident on the second page because I forgot to reference the first page. It was tiring flipping pages every 5 seconds, ok! Also, I drew it after 2 days when I drew the first page, and I didn't have a design I liked for them yet. (...I just noticed Jay has different eye colors in both pages...)

I think I'm sticking to these looks for Lloyd. I'll try to make it accurate to this. (I think I did great with the first image of this post. Though, I made him too round for my liking.)

Discard the growing beard post redesign Lloyd has. That beard thing was supposed to be where his chin was until I realized it was too small. And it's still too small.

Child Lloyd is so cute! The eyeshadow wasn't intentional at first, but then it got me thinking, what if Lloyd had an emo phase? And now emo child Lloyd is my headcanon.

Pre redesign Lloyd kind of reminds me of TommyInnit, and I find it quite funny. Maybe it's the facial gesture, I know a lot of TommyInnit fanarts with that silly face.

For Dragons Rising Lloyd however, I want him to have long hair with his post redesign face. I'll try to make full body designs of the 4 Lloyds.

You guys probably don't care, and this is the first time you've seen me because I don't have an exact artstyle and I dont post as much, but I'm going to put descriptions now since this blog is going to be a silly little art dump! And blog posts are supposed to be descriptive. Which I should've done in the beginning and explained my works..

Anyhow

If you liked my art, thank you!

If you saw me before and told me I did well, thank you and I'm sorry!! I know my previous posts have gotten comments and I'm sorry I didn't respond.. I'm not trying to be ungrateful, I just don't know how to express my appreciation for your positive feedback! Or just reply in general... I get nervous even when I'm wearing my mask..

Please don't hate me, I'm just really anxious to show my work to people I don't know to the point where I might think people disliked my artwork when it's the opposite..

(I'll probably copy paste this in future posts now lol. But I AM thankful that some of you guys think my works are great!)

57 notes · View notes

caspercryptid · 2 months ago

Note

Fic request- There is a severe lack of Werewolf or Vampire Ford, do with that what you will 💜

I like where your head's at. This is going to be a super weird sci-fi vibe because I actually had a Vampire Ford AU sitting in the back of my brain— if you want more/different vampire/werewolf au content just feel free to hit me with another request, one thing I find very fun is doing variations on the same theme.

Requests still open for billford.

_____

Bill had waited hundreds of millions of years.

Well, alright, so. Outside the theraprism it has probably been significantly less time than that. And even inside the theraprism Bill had lost track of time very very quickly, once he's made two key realizations.

1. No one is coming to save him

2. The pines will be long dead by the time he gets out.

He shouldn't care. He doesn't.

....Okay so, maybe he does a little bit.

As he worked through his feelings (by force, those bastards really knew how to cut a triangle down to size). He had come to realize that he .....had. feelings. Specifically one feeling. For Ford Pines. Something sticky and warm and pathetic.

And worthless, because he was never going to be able to tell him. Because Ford Pines was human.

Ford pines....WAS. human.

The problem with his relationship with Stanford had been fundamentally twofold. Every other issue started with one of the two completely insurmountable barriers between them.

Problem 1: Ford was human.

Problem 2: Bill was not.

The axolotl, in his endless knowledge and mercy, had seen fit, through reincarnation, to solve the second problem. Which would have counted for nothing, except that apparently while Bill hadn't been looking in on him, Ford had solved the first.

And that is how Bill has found himself on a space station in 3502, face to face. With Stanford Pines.

At first he thinks he's imagining things, or maybe one of the Pines descendants just— won some kind of genetic lottery. But as he stays frozen and watching, Ford pulls out a journal and flips through, taking notes with an old fashioned pen, and— there's no mistaking those hands. There's no mistaking that twenty first century pen. And he'd— assume some alternate universe Ford had gotten lost, but his clothes are from the right millennia, at least, he's wearing a space suit and metal boots. He's alone and he looks.... fine. Confident and calm.

Bill doesn't realize he's getting closer until Ford looks up and gives him a confused look.

"Can I.... help you?" He asks.

Oh, right.

Bill looks normal now. Average. Unremarkable. He clears his throat, tries to decide where to start.

"I— hope so," he says. "Do you have a ship? I— seem to have accidentally blown the last of my cash and I don't have enough to make it back to earth."

"Ah, yes. I do. I would be happy to give you a lift, I was actually heading back topside myself."

Bill realizes, faintly, that he's probably made a mistake and it's going to be a lot of lies to keep going.

Well, if there was anything in the world he was good at.

"Thank you," he says, "I figured you'd be reliable. Everybody who uses old-world tech is good in my book. You don't make it to a thousand pitching hitchhikers out of airlocks!"

Patently untrue. Bill had pitched plenty of hitchhikers out of airlocks.

Ford gives him a look like maybe he doesn't believe that either, but he twists the pen in his fingers.

"You just can't replicate the feeling of a nib on paper," he says, "do you believe i had to get my own ship because they won't let me space travel with one of these? I told them I'd adapted the ink cartridges myself to keep it from exploding, but they wouldn't believe me!"

"Those galactic authorities need to get the sticks out of their asses," Bill says.

Ford snorts, and it's- nice. It's nice to just talk to him like this. Like nothing had ever happened between them. But. There's still the question.

"...So, you a collector?" he asks, managing casual.

"Ah, no." Ford says, spinning the pen, "well, yes, in a way. I do collect old world technology, but it's because I'm more used to it."

"You look human," Bill says.

Ford grins, showing off sharp teeth.

"Do I?"

#billford #gravity falls requests #the book of bill #vampire ford #if anyone likes this enough to want more feel free to request a continuation #I know i left it off at a weird point lmao

26 notes · View notes

drdtfuitgumies · 6 months ago

Text

pinned post

currently posting one situation a week, along with birthdays. inbox is closed!

(updated: 19th july 2024; added rules on crossovers/referencing other series + adjusted my dni)

this blog is unofficial, and not affiliated with danganronpa: despair time, the official danganronpa franchise, spike chunsoft, or nisa. all characters belong to danganronpa: despair time; all art is made by me unless stated otherwise.

continuity:

-) (as of 3/11/2024) list of items arei has stolen: rose's hat, min's pen, xander's jacket, david's hairclips, eden's bowtie, j's hoodie, Ace Markey, ace's hair gel, hu's hairpin, nico's slippers, min's jacket, whit's jacket, whit's glasses

-) (21/7/2024) as a consequence of arei's actions, j is currently wearing a different outfit

-) (23/7/2024) also as a consequence of arei's actions, ace is currently imprisoned with the rest of arei's loot. he will undergo any situations stuck in a prison. please send your regards to him 😔

let's have fun!! rules & quick faq under cut

blog explanation & rules

i'll be drawing the drdt characters in my fuit gumy style (example above, and also it needs to be spelt exactly that way). ideally i post one thing a day, but real life circumstances might help or hinder me

requests are currently open. i can't promise that i'll get to every request and i don't know if i can answer every ask/question, but i'll try my best!

i do not Bite but please be nice to me!! i am just a 1) gremlin 2) a Student who needs stability and routine

i can draw headcanons, aus, and such, but i'll be adhering to canon most of the time. also, i love weird combos too if you can find an explanation for them interacting whether platonically, romantically, or a secret third thing

if a request has multiple characters, please specify if you mean it romantically or not, so romantic interactions can be given ship tags as well. if it isn't specified in the request, i'll interpret it as platonic by default (i'm pretty dense and have trouble interpreting interactions sometimes)

crossovers/referring to other series can be requested, but are very unlikely to be actually drawn. for me to finish them, i'd need to know the other series. However, if your request happens to be something along the lines of "[insert fuit gumy here] with [pokemon / digimon of choice]", I will absolutely not complain. I would be honored!!

i will not be accepting requests that involve canon danganronpas AND fanganronpas. this blog has always meant to be focused on drdt first and foremost, and i'm content to let it stay that way (for now). although characters from other fanganronpas may Very Rarely appear in Original Situations!

(re: full explanation for the above two rules)

i won't draw, read any of these asks, or interact with certain blogs if they contain: nsfw (out of personal comfort!), hate speech (what are you doing here), incest/pedophilia/bestiality

("proship" was originally on the above point, but i have since realized that i've misunderstood the definition of the term to mean "problematic content" in general. i apologize for my mistake, and have elaborated on what specifically i'd like to avoid! people can ship whatever they like; just ignore it if you don't like it. although the worst i'll do with this blog is still cartoonish depictions of violence, i thought it's better to explain while i can, even if it seems unnecessary)

this blog is NOT spoiler free! most of my art here is 99% going to be unserious shitposts anyways, but this is here just in case. also since drdt is 16+ this blog is 16+ too

any of my art posted in this blog can be used for personal use with credit (icons, headers, wallpapers, discord emotes for private servers and any other social media that lets you do that kinda stuff), but (for now) please don't repost in other social media (you can just share links if you'd like!)

this is a recent discovery but I can't reply to replies for some reason. if it doesn't require immediate attention, i'll reply to any questions in one big post tagged "answering asks"

quick faq before anyone asks

call me gremlyn (18+)! you can find me on @thatseitagremlin (drdt sideblog) / @iamjustagremlin (limbus main)

for this blog i draw with miro . com by default so i can restrict myself to a limited brush and color palette. this helps my brain not get distracted when drawing. depending on what tomfoolery i come up with or what requests i get i might use other apps though!

whit is the posterboy for this blog because he's my favorite character. my blorbo, if you will. my other faves are j, nico, and xander (i feel a Lot of cuteness aggression with xander specifically) if you're curious

i'm an omnivore and am fine with most ships but if i had to pick a ship to fight for it'd probably be charwhit or areiden. i also like jarei but i'm not sure if i prefer it platonically, romantically, or a secret third thing, and i'm not bothered enough to find out soon

also, do you guys know how to run an ask blog. because i don't. but once again, let's be nice and have fun!!

#pinned post #danganronpa despair time #drdt #fuit gumy art #whit young

44 notes · View notes

littlewriterfullofwords · 11 months ago

Text

Happy New Year

Parring: dr. Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Summary: It's a New Year Eve party!

Warnings: fluff I guess

A/N: Happy New Year guys! I had some drinks so excuse any mistakes!

Just like for Christmas Eve, you invited your team from BAU over to celebrate New Year Eve with you.

You decorated the house with some balloons, prepared some food and alcohol. You put on shiny clothes (made shiny make up) and waited for the team to appear by your door.

As always, Penelope was first. Her beautiful smile enlightened the house and her colourful clothes gave colours to the monotonous decor of the living room.

"You make our life a lot better, sweetheart." Said the woman and hugged you again, the third time in 5 minutes.

The next one was Emily. Her dark hair, perfectly composed with black, slightly shiny dress, was tied in a loose bun with free strands on the sides.

JJ wore a red dress and curled her blond hair that had fallen on her back and shoulders.

The men, instead of Gideon was Rossi, the sudden change you didn't expect to happen, came in wearing suits or something quite elegant.

"Who would think we would need your little parties." Joked Morgan, a glass of homemade alcohol in between his fingers.

"We're glad you're with us." Joined him Emily with a smile and a glass of whiskey.

"Sure." You jokingly rolled your eyes then laughed. "You only need my alcohol, nothing more."

"Actually..." Everyone looked at Spencer who was enjoying his one and only vodka. "We all are very fond of you. Me especially."

"Yeah, we know." Agreed Derek with a smile. "We know."

You also smiled. You've never heard Reid being so straightforward with anything except information and facts. What he had said made your stomach turn upside down and the heart to skip a few beats.

You were also very fond of Spencer. As you realized before Christmas Eve, you were fucking in love with him and you were sure nothing could change that any time soon.

After some talking with food along, you all started to dance, sing and drink even more. Those people in your house, they were totally different people from that you worked with. It's not like you were complaining, no. It was just good to know that they were feeling comfortable enough to show their other side to you.

"You know." Quiet tipsy Emily sat by your side on the sofa and pointed at Reid who was singing one of Abba's song with Aaron in the middle of your living room. "The doctor is very fond of you. He looks at you all the time. He talks about you when you're not around. He's kinda obsessed, you know?"

"That's... That's good to know, thank you." You didn't know what to think about the information you just received.

Should you work on that? Or should you leave it as it was? Gods only know.

When all those thoughts were going through your head like F1 cars, your eyes locked with those belonging to Spencer. You both smiled at each other. You felt another heat wave hit your face. You were in love with the guy.

3...

2....

1...

Happy New Year!

The fireworks flew to the sky and exploded with million colours, making the night sky the brightest in the whole year.

"I hope we stay together." Started Penelope and clinked her glass with Derek's. "I really love you guys!"

"We love you too, Pen." You said and kissed her cheek.

Everyone, of course with champagne in their hands, wished everyone happy new year and more. It was a tradition, right?

"Y/N." Before you came back inside behind everyone, Reid stopped you by calling your name and slightly pulling your top.

"Yes, Spenc?" You stopped and looked at the doctor who looked cute with those red cheeks and hazy eyes.

"I wanted to...." His hand hid under his hair as he scratched his neck what, as always, made you smile. "Happy New Year, Y/N."

You opened your mouth to answer but before you even made a sound, Spencer's lips touched yours.

You always knew him as an individual who would rather avoid physical touch yet here he was. His lips on yours, his hands on your cheek and waist, almost no distance between you two. And oh gods, you loved that! You loved that too much.

"Happy New Year." You whispered after you two parted. "I hope you stay with me, Spenc."

"I hope so too, Y/N." One more kiss before coming in, his hand on your lower back and wide smiles on both your faces.

"So...." JJ pushed Emily away from the window and looked at Morgan who was facing the wall.

"Shall we congratulate you, guys?" Asked Aaron.

"I think so." Answered Reid for both of you.

"Happy New Year then!"

#ff writer #ff #criminal minds ff #criminalminds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid

48 notes · View notes

themoonitselff · 1 year ago

Text

Love Letters | Kurapika x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: Slightly mentions of depression, just angst and fluff. THIS WAS MADE WITH TRANSLATOR, BE GENTLE. Any suggest is fine💖

Summary: You always send poems to Leorio, but they arrived to his best friend.

You lived on the other side of the world, you were a writer known for your novels who worked in a bookstore to support your few earnings in your works, you had several friends, among them, Leorio Paradiknight, you knew him for a long time, since you were teenagers, but you took different paths, he was a doctor who helped those who could not afford his treatments, and a hunter who survived the dark continent, while you went for the artistic faculties side and a more peaceful life, but what could never be erased since you met him were your feelings for him. You usually write to each other from time to time, he tells you about his adventures with his friends and the reckless things he usually does with his money, and you respond by telling him about your new ideas for new stories, you were so close but yet so far ....

This time, you found yourself determined to write him poems anonymously, with your writer name, because he thinks you put your real name on your books, but you didn't. You took a pen and started writing, every word was aligned with your heartbeat, every sentence seemed to be taken out of a fairy tale, and the way you expressed yourself was different from how you used to talk to him, you were cordial, polite, kind, and flattering, you finished the letter and when you read it, you were surprised with your own words.

"My dear, your beauty resembles the luster of a pearl.

Delicate, brilliant, unique.

Let me be the golden chain that complements you, because from me you will never fall, golden prince."

Short, but ethereal.

You put it in a beige envelope, and sealed it with red wax, next to a daisy, finally you added perfume as a detail, and wrote his address, your heart almost coming out of your throat. The days passed, and became weeks, and the weeks became 2 months, and he still didn't answer, but he kept writing you normally and he didn't answer your anonymous letter... Did he get it? Did he like it? Did he know it was you? Does he like you?

2 months before

He was in his room, a depressing room with four walls and little light, next to the mess that all his discomfort was causing, he was rotting in the agony of revenge, the thirst for power and seeing the face of those who took his family away from him in silence. Suddenly, a ding dong chimed at the front door, Kurapika felt a strange feeling in his stomach, since no one knew where hr was staying, not even his friends.

He got up from his dying bed and opened the door.

"Good afternoon, this letter has been sent to you a few weeks ago, from [Your continent]." mused the delivery man, he seemed rushed by his tone of voice.

"A letter? "Kurapika took it, it had a postcard and it smelled quite nice, you could say the scent made him wake up.

"That's right... Well, I have to go, I have more things to deliver!" and he ran off, leaving the young blond behind him at the door.

"Wait! ... Damn!" Kurapika exclaimed, he went inside his apartment and closed the door, looking carefully at the letter.

It had vintage details, and it was in perfect condition, it had no Nen on it, it was a harmless letter and not a trap from any of his enemies looking for him: The Chain User.

He sat on the couch in front of a short legged table, and opened this letter carefully, unfolded the sheet and read the text carefully, it was very short, but the words embodied provoked a different feeling in him.

Warmth in his chest, tickles in his ribs, butterflies in his stomach. He was enraptured. He saw the author's note and his eyebrows went up, his favorite author of novels was writing to him. To him!? It couldn't be, because they didn't know each other.

"I have to return this letter, this is a mistake" He muttered, he was about to leave his place when, again, that feeling in his chest attacked him, it's like when fire embraces you with its burning embers, but it didn't burn, not at all. His intrusive thoughts wouldn't let him give it back, even if his morals attacked him, an internal struggle with himself not to be nosy and steal something that isn't his, use the identity of the author's lover, maybe.

But how bad could it be?

His feelings and illusions ended up winning over his brain, and he went to a table to write in response to that beautiful poem that caught his attention.

It sparked an interest in them.

You didn't think he was going to answer you, but he did, week after week waiting at the letter carrier's office for his message, and viceverse, both were in love with each other, but without knowing each other yet, you thought he was Leorio, and Kurapika didn't know who you were. But what you both knew is that soon, that was going to change, you were planning a flight to Japan just to see him and reveal him your identity, who you were, you never thought that Leorio could be so serious, mysterious and charming, you could say that even the writing was different(MAYBE BC HE'S NOT LEORIO👹), but it doesn't matter, you fell harder for him, you were going to meet in Yorkshin specifically, on an iconic bridge of the place, you couldn't wait to meet his lips with yours, his eyes pierce your soul and connect both of your bodies.

The day came, you got your bags off the plane and went to your reservation at a luxurious hotel, at this point you were already loaded with money from your excellent sales, it was no problem where to stay, you dressed up as best you could and 10 minutes before you were already on site.

When you arrived, no one was there yet, you sighed with relief, you didn't want Leorio to notice yet, you ran the risk of losing the relationship you had with him for a long time, but a part of your heart said it didn't matter, we were all born to die.

Minutes passed and, he still didn't arrive, you stared at the lake below the bridge until the Sun set and you gave up, your crystal clear eyes ruined your facial routine and your feet were tired of waiting, telling yourself what a fool you are for believing that someone like him would set his eyes on you.

Then, a tall, blond, pale-skinned man stood next to you, you didn't notice him, it was as if he had appeared out of nowhere, you jumped in fright and then realizing you were crying, you wiped your tears and looked away.

"Excuse me, do you know where [xxx] is? "You asked him to leave at once, your foreign accent was noticeable for miles.

"It's six blocks from here." He answered dryly, without looking you in the face, his eyes were droopy, empty, they didn't shine despite the evening illumination, his aura was mysterious, dim, interesting.... But you already loved someone else.

"Thank you." You thanked before you left.

Before you turned around, the stranger turned to see you, your appearance looked similar to him, he searched in his memories who you looked like until he realized that you were that famous writer, he didn't hesitate to go behind you to take your arm and stop you.

"Excuse me." He said, you turned to look at him confused, tilting your head slightly waiting for him to explain himself. "I... I know you."

"I don't know who you are.." You said, still dumbfounded.

The stranger looked lost, as if he was searching for an excellent answer, he was silent for a while, you just rolled your eyes and disengaged from his grip, going on your way.

Then, you heard his voice again behind you.

"Wait!" You saw him again. His eyes unlike the first time you saw them, they were bright, flashing red pigments, you could feel a good feeling from him, from his very formal dress, his long straight hair, his style so.... Hungry for life.

"Yes?"

...

"I'm your prince... Your golden prince."

THIS WQS MESSY I KNOW I MEAN I DIDN'T EVEN MADE A MASTERLIST HAAHHAJA IDK HOW TO MAKE ONEZ ANYWAYS

112 notes · View notes

from-izzy · 9 months ago

Text

that's him, that's just who he is | tbz choi chanhee | new

"At least between us both,” the camera shutters and you take a shaky inhale, “one of us took the right path.”

PAIRING » tbz choi chanhee (new) x gn!reader (proofread twice—lmk if i made a mistake!) TROPE/AU » friends 2 strangers, highschool au!, non-idol au!, idol au! (chanhee towards the end) GENRE » angsty angst angst, unread messages, comforting friendship, supporting friendship, you both attend the same music academy, you both are preparing to become celebrities/idols! WORD COUNT » 4168 (no seriously, 2k word limit who?) ESTIMATED READING TIME » 15 mins WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!) » financial difficulties, stress relating to: money, music, balancing friendships-work-school, upwards comparisons, failure at achieving dream job (reader's side), unsupportive teachers

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 series introduction 🤍 series masterlist 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'

my third story! i take it back when i said that the second is my favourite story because this is my new (no pun intended) favourite story. i had to stop multiple times because it hit me too many times 🥹👍

well...the self insert is really real here 🫂 and this got seriously personal (let's see how many times i say this with this series 👀)

big respect to chanhee for balancing his education, preparing to be an idol and having a part time job 🫂 i respect him so much

thank you for reading honey bee ☘️🐝 @sanaxo-o and happiest birthday to you!! this story isn't much of a gift since you've read it before but there is the other one hehe 💕

Unlike most of your other lessons, this one passed by as quickly as a blink of an eye. It might be because the air conditioner in the room was set to the perfect temperature or the way the tie around your collar didn’t suffocate you too much or maybe, it was the way that you were practically showered with a bunch of compliments as soon as you took a deep breath from your diaphragm, lifted your cheekbones and sung your heart out.

Swiftly, you smile at the affirming nods that your teacher gave you, writing down her notes to the three-minute performance that you were assigned to for the last month. Across the whole month, you recall the way the tip of the pen scratches the plastic board vigorously, tapping rapidly and furiously throughout the longest three minutes of your life. Usually, you would be assigned a new song every three weeks or have two songs to practice for five weeks. On the times that you didn’t succeed, it would be a hell lot of criticism, tears and punches on the wall as soon as you exited the small studio. Heck, even with the times when the tears made it out in the room, you could tell that even though she toned down her volume, those eyes looked at you no further than disinterest—sometimes she would unmistakably roll her eyes too.

It has always been in short, sickening.

Those were the times that you wanted to just rip out your vocal cords, swear that you would never sing again, not that you even could at that point, and run away from the one thing that gave you life in your tiring days.

“Pick a song.”

The statement made your head slightly crane forward towards your suddenly easygoing teacher. You let out a confusing hum and question to which she responds with an amused smile.

“I can…choose?”

“You can’t truly be a singer if you don’t know what songs fit you best or if you need someone to pick what songs you should sing. You don’t have to choose a challenging song yet. You’ve been singing for the past half year and you’re good at it, but you really only found your style recently and I would rather you focus on further developing it.” She shrugs leisurely after, “It’s up to you though.”

Either way, I’m still going to get paid.

Numerous song titles juggle in your mind, the different lyrics and tunes playing in your head as the memories of your lives flash through their respective melodies. However, it wasn’t easy for your mouth to announce any of the songs, your mind thinking of all the technicalities within each song that would definitely challenge the fragile, insecure side of you.

But art is a special type of hobby.

It’s one of those hobbies that no one would ever be able to ‘perfect’. Somebody would always criticise and pick it apart ruthlessly—and you would always have to pick up their words and carry them deep within your heart.

“Are you sure?” The way that she tilts her head to the side after writing down your choice says everything.

But you stood your ground.

You’ve been in love with this song for so long and all you wanted to do was to learn it properly. Who knows when you’ll be given the chance to pick again? So, with the bravest smile and the most convincing nod that your shaking body could give, she does her final notes on that worn-out notebook of hers. She also recites your homework and expectations for the next lesson before excusing your presence from the room.

You couldn't wait to scream the excitement out of your body, tell your parents and your best friend about what just happened, analyse the song and its technical aspec—

"I just don't think you'll make it."

You halt your steps and your journey. For such a good music academy, these rooms seriously needed thicker walls. You were genuinely surprised that you were still able to focus on your lessons (most of the time) through all the electric guitar, drum kits and unfortunately, other singers who were unable to hit those certain high notes.

It's times like these that you wish the academy could invest in their building more. You were lucky that your lesson room is located at the end of the hallway meaning that your criticism could only be heard by you, the teacher and maybe the two rooms in front and beside yours.

Chanhee wasn't so fortunate, being at the very front, the first door on the left. It left him vulnerable. The voice cracks, the times when he would go off tune or the rare times when he missed his count. It would all mercilessly be heard by anyone who would pass by just to go to the toilet or refill their empty, cold coffee mug.

You stood next to the wall where the glass doors of the lesson door, biting your bottom lip and you noticed how Chanhee wouldn’t even say anything to his teacher’s words. You could imagine how he had his head hung low, nodding occasionally at the words and was forced to repeat the same line over and over and over again until he got it right. You prayed silently in your heart and mind that time would go quicker for him so that he could walk out, breathe in some fresh air and take a break from the suffocating practice room.

When the door clicks open, Chanhee has that tired, sad smile to you that he gives most of the time. Your eyebrows fell a little but you were still able to give him an encouraging one back.

“No?” You asked even though you very much knew the answer.

“No.” He quietly affirms after a short pause.

“I’m still proud of you though.” Just like any other day at school, after lessons or any other time, you lightly punch his shoulder, him chuckling and shoving you back. “I guess…that’s why they’re called ‘lessons’ after all.”

The realisation of your words made Chanhee groan. Lessons that are made throughout a lifetime—one that he has been attending for a year and a half unlike you who only started at the start of the year. He gave up his time with his friends, time to study which most of society thinks is the best way to secure a well-financed job, and gave up his money to buy clothes for himself that he just walked past whenever he knew he would get tempted. All those part-time jobs, ones that would go late into the still busy nights of Seoul or the ones early in the morning before school when most people would still be snoring, were all done with his dream that someday his voice would be heard by the world.

“How did yours go?”

You know that you should just be truthful. You both have been stuck to the hip for the last few years and Chanhee is not an easy person to deceive. Plus, you need to take into consideration as well of lying at this current moment. You didn’t want Chanhee to think that you were trying to make him feel better by potentially pitying him. What good would that bring to anyone right now in this situation? That’s not what friends do.

“I was given a chance to choose a song.” The small genuine, congratulatory smile that Chanhee gives makes you relax your back into the wall further, the tension easing away from your body. “I also managed to get through that vocal run that I’ve been agonising and crying to you about for the past week.” You slump your body against the wall as you recall your homework, “But she gave me more scales to use as runs for practice.”

“Scales really do suck.” Chanhee whispers to you teasingly, once again getting pushed by you.

“Yeah.” You acknowledge shortly after. “But it does help me with my breathing and flexibility which I highly suck at.”

“Hey,” he scolds your words lightly, “at least you have a distinctive sound and know how to put emotions according to the sound. My teacher just said I sound generic.”

Yes. That description for Chanhee—no, just any singer—is weird and you would dare to say, highly misleading.

If we’re talking about musical terms, every single singer has a unique timbre. Even if the note stays the same, every person will have a different tone colour because well, every person is different. Saying that a singer has a generic voice, highly contradicts the definite concept of instrument timbre.

You know how much this troubled Chanhee even though he tries his best to hide it. The comments about his timbre have been repeated so many times that it’s got to him a lot. In the beginning, he would just smile bitterly and indicate that he wouldn’t want to talk about the lesson, kicking the group of stones on the pathway to release his anger. However, as you both grew closer after an assigned duet performance, he was able to open up to you little by little, slowly but surely, keeping the friendship that grew even after you did your ending bow to the audience. He would still hide a little bit of his feelings to himself, embarrassed that he would talk about himself even though you reassured him that it was completely fine.

To him, how others see him is the most important thing for him. From the compliments that would grow the contagious smile on his face, to the heartbreaking crying scenes that he would hide from the rest of the world, all those words he took to heart so that he could improve himself as a person—and in this case, as an artist. In this harsh world, the words that would be spat out by teachers would be so deeply etched in a person’s heart that all of a sudden, giving up everything that they have worked so hard for would be easier done.

It’s during those times that you and Chanhee would lean on each other, reassuring each other not to run away from the weekly lessons and giving comfort after each one. Chanhee is internally grateful for the times that you would hold his shoulders, lightly shaking his frail, tired body before giving him words of encouragement. He would do a similar thing for you when you feel like you didn’t progress, stopping your self-criticism and pushing you to keep going. To you, he would just let you cry on his shoulder as you hug him tight, patting your back calmingly.

The light snowing season greets the both of you as soon as you exit the building. For you, your next destination is home but for Chanhee, ninety-eight percent of the time it would be his job at the barbeque restaurant, the seafood restaurant or even that new Chinese restaurant that he recently just started.

Given the good results of your lesson, you selfishly wanted to have some fun but the words died down in your throat when you slightly turned your head towards your friend. His black hair still peaked out from the beanie that kept both of his ears warm, the scarf that you gifted him hid the slight downturn of his lips and the physical expression of his heavy heart. His eyelashes fluttered away the snowflakes in the cold but still bright night and his rosy cheeks only grew brighter and more evident the slower the journey to your next destination would take.

“Just a little penguin in his somewhat natural habitat?” Your attempt to get a response out from him is successful when you see his cheekbones rise—the same way that they would rise whenever he sings his heart out.

“What a way to start a conversation.”

Your heart lightens at your successful attempt, linking your right arm with his as you continue to walk down the still-shared path that makes the distance between all your worries and yourself further away. However, like all journeys, you finally arrive at that one spot.

The one that split into two different roads, unlike the one you have been walking a few minutes ago.

The right road would take you both to safety, warmth and relaxation.

The left road would force you to unlink Chanhee’s arm, sending him to the busy, loud civilisation where he would put on his apron and raise the pitch of his voice fit for customer service.

“Are you…off to work?” He senses the sadness lingering in your voice and the way your right hand tightens around his forearm even through the thick, winter clothes.

“…yeah.”

“I see.” You managed to muster a stable response tone. “Come on, I’ll drop you there.” You turn your body towards the crowd but can’t go too far due to the other set of feet that stays grounded on the worn-down, cold stone floor, “Chanhee?”

“Maybe…” Suddenly, the sky starts to sprinkle down its pretty shapes of ice. “I’m just not meant to be a singer.”

You gasp quietly, the faint white exhale slowly disappearing behind the dark background. Seeing the tears finally slide down his cheeks made you realise one thing: he’s opening up. He’s doing the thing that he has tried to hide from everyone. In tune with his emotions, your eyes started to build their layer of moisture, the wind making it harder for you to keep your tears in. You couldn’t think straight, your free arm wiping your eyes to rid the hardships from your face while trying to give Chanhee words of encouragement.

“You’re going to get ther—”

“What if you had to give up so much,” He cut you off, gasping and inhaling more air to accommodate his crying, “earn so much money, gave it away and it didn’t give you good results? Whatever it may be…An event, a trip, an investment.” His voice gradually trails off as he lists life occurrences.

You’ve thought about the same thing thousands of times, back and forth, no matter where, when and who you were with. In a world where pursuing art can be a hard, long path, what would happen if nothing good were to come out of it? All your hard work, all your money, all your time…you’ll never be able to get those back.

Is it worth it? Is it worth the gamble?

“I would probably beat myself over it.” You tried to keep your whimpers at bay as you confessed the same answer that would come back every time you went on your downward spiral, “I would most probably always question why I did what I did. If I did the event with someone, and for some reason, they were the ones that made the situation bad, then I would’ve gone back and forth, asking myself if it was worth it. Why didn’t I go alone? Why was I so scared? What was I so scared of?”

Should you move to a different academy? But your teacher is well known. Should you still do it anyway? Knowing that you had to go through many processes and hardships to even get lessons with this teacher. Even if most of the time, you felt like giving up music, surely her experience would lead you to someplace good…right?

“But then…would answering those questions lead to happiness?” Chanhee scoffs at his absurd thoughts. Tilting his head to the sky, he relishes the way the snowflakes land on his pale skin, disappearing when they touch his skin, the side branches melting into his warmth. “Even after answering the question, would you be able to know what to do next? What would it lead to?”

Even though Chanhee was the first one to cry and break down, your wails were louder the more his words resonated within you, touching the parts of your heart that you never wanted to say out loud, scared of where and how your unconscious mind would take you. With everything in him, he untangles his arms to wrap them around your neck, patting the back of your head as you cry on his shoulder. He also lets his tears soak your scarf, resting his cheek on his arm and his chapped wavering lips rubbing against the delicate wool of your scarf, trying his best to soften his cries.

“I just…” One of his hands pats your back, giving you his comfort—even though he probably needed it more than you, “Music and singing used to be happiness that could fit in my pocket. It felt secure and safe. I could just put on my earphones and I’ll feel happy.” You notice the tighter hold after, “But music grew too fast and too big for me that I couldn’t catch up with it anymore.”

You only nod to his words, knowing how much Chanhee sacrificed to pay for his lessons. Some judged him, calling him stuck up and selfish even though they knew that he was independent in his journey to become a singer. It pains you to hear those words come out as scoffs and laughter and soon enough, you hold his hand and cut ties with them all, leaving their flabbergasted faces behind.

The sky starts to cry with you both beautifully in the form of its unique icy shapes. You both watch the snowflakes disappear on the ground, on each other clothing, on your noses. Finding the strength and breath to continue, you slowly push your body away, wiping the last bit of your tears to face your best friend straight into his eyes.

“You’re going to find happiness that you can rely on, Chanhee.” You couldn’t see his lips but you were sure that it was pouting and shivering, “It may be music or it may be something that music brings you. It may be the stage or maybe people who you will come to work with or maybe the people who will cheer you on but I’m sure you’ll find it soon.”

Even with the bustling environment around you both, there was no way that you could have missed his muttering, especially with the white puff of air, “At this rate…”

He feels the weight and pressure of your palms on both his shoulders but he still looks down to the ground where the snow slowly buries the sides of his shoes, “I promise you that if you keep going, I don’t have a single doubt that you’ll find your style. Regardless of what your crappy teacher says, you’re unique and I love your voice.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” Wiping the lone tear on his cheek, “The world is going to be amazed when they hear your voice and I'm sure you'll be a good influence to them.”

For the first time in the day, Chanhee finally smiled. You observe the way his eyes disappear into pretty little upside-down moons. His head tilts back slightly, revealing the upturned corner of his lips behind the scarf that kept him warm and his teeth shine brighter with the help of the light from the marketplace behind you. Your hands were able to finally relax and mirrored the same expression back to your now radiant friend.

“Promise me that we’ll stand on the same stage someday.”

But life plays a twisted fate on you both and loves to put more pressure than you can ever carry. Having to move to a different school and a different region is not on your list of expectations. You argued endlessly about the decision to move, feeling unfair that none of your opinions mattered to them as they relentlessly started to look for moving trucks to hire. With the good offer that your dad received and realising that the youngest in the family had no final say, you tried your best to hold back the tears when telling Chanhee the news.

He cries for you and himself, already imagining the loneliness of walking to the music academy after a long day of school and the drags of his feet across the gravel in the night after each lesson. You assured him that you would call often and unlike you, he promised you the same thing. Time told you both that your friendship was still strong despite the physical distance between you both and with time, so did both your musical skills.

The trade-off for talent in your friendship is the less frequent phone calls and text messages. It was decreasing steadily and slowly until eventually, there was no more red dot beside his name on your phone even though you're sure there would be one beside your name on his. When sadness turned into confusion, then morphed into anger, hate and bitterness whenever someone asked you about him, you still found yourself swiping through your many photos with him. Just like how he cries on your last day, you cry from the silence of him.

Thankfully, time did heal your heart even though you couldn’t find a friend like him ever again. Things have changed for you and you were sure that it was the same for Chanhee. You grew taller, changed your hairstyle, hobbies, dreams and aspirations. What time didn’t seem to change however was the delivered sign that never changed with your messages. You let it go and went on with your life.

When you did come back to Seoul, you realised that the city had changed drastically. You wondered if it’s really that or if you were just struggling to remember the city that you once walked around in every day. But unlike your thoughts, maybe Seoul did change drastically. Amid the new but still bustling environment, there was this one cafe that was incredibly packed. Needing to get away from the cold, you entered to be greeted with a well-decorated interior and the gold ‘Happy Birthday New’ balloon shines brightly, especially with the light that is right above it. Many were posing in front of the gold foil fringe backdrop.

You almost didn’t recognise the boy in the picture. You don’t remember when you took your scarf off and picked up a random framed picture in the frame before picking up another one next to it, and another one, and another one. Each showed his growth. You could tell not only from his appearance but also from the bigger stage that he performed along with ten other boys. Suddenly, it clicks and it all makes sense. Hearing everyone else around you talk about him fondly took away the heavy weight that his name brought and a new feeling overtook your heart.

For the first time in a very long time, seeing his face made you smile and it didn’t hurt.

Your phone slides into your shaking hands, swipe open the camera app from the lock screen and point it at the framed picture in your hand, “At least between us both,” the camera shutters and you take a shaky inhale, “one of us took the right path.”

You know from the laughter in the space, the feeling of the radiant energy of those around you and the happiness on people’s faces as they point their cameras to their fanmade goods and the interior of the place, that Choi Chanhee has done it. The stage looked extremely good on him, even if the light was too bright and he looked so pale sometimes.

“I’m glad it was you.”

You whisper somewhat solemnly and with a bit of jealousy. Your clenched fist is a puny attempt in trying to keep your tears from expressing the hurt that suddenly hit you as you recall that moment in your life. The multiple rejections to the companies that you auditioned for, the way people on the streets pass by more frequently as their ears and eyes are focused on other’s performances—the night where you listed all your musical instruments for sale and promised that you would never sing ever again.

“You shy, talented, loveable penguin.” And it would seem that his fans agree with the chosen animal with the pouting blue penguin on top of his head. “That’s just who you are, Chanhee.”

Maybe the fame wasn’t for you. Shortly after moving, you found out that the stage was more of a hobby, especially with how you just wanted to stand on stage but never wanted to practise and study music theory properly. You just wanted to shout out the lyrics and sentimentally sing the lyrics of existing songs instead of having your name in an album or next to the credits and royalty rights to the song. But knowing that it fit Chanhee well, it was more than enough for you. He may not have known it before but you wish with all your being that he knows his capability to make others smile, including you.

Even if your broken smile is within millions that he probably would never see from the podium that rightfully held him high.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 series introduction 🤍 series masterlist 🤍 'especially to you...' tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿@sanaxo-o @astrae4

48 notes · View notes

vidjausers-fable · 11 months ago

Text

Pen Pals(Veneer X OC)Chapter 1

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Oh my god, I fell in love with Veneer and Velvet the moment I heard their silly little quotes and songs. I also have fun drawing them!? Anyway, this story is completely for fun, though it’s been a while since I’ve last written a fanfiction. Nothing is beta read in this chapter, so be kind if pointing out mistakes. Below is something I drew specifically for this fiction (though obviously it was inspired by the Barbie and Ken meme)

Also located on Wattpad and AO3. Chapter 2 and 3 are already located there, but soon will be here as well.

Once they had been arrested, Veneer and Velvet were booked and thrown into prison immediately. Well, it was more of a correctional facility if anything. A place where they wanted to prepare young adults who had made stupid mistakes for the outside world. Velvet didn’t take the change well but Veneer made no complaints, believing that it was the right thing to do because of the crimes they had committed. All those Trolls they had hurt…It weighed on him more than it did his sister. Velvet received a harsher sentence compared to her brother. Veneer’s was smaller because his heartfelt confession helped save the Trolls from his sister and expose their scam right away.

However, the two shared a cell in the correctional facility due to a bit of a crowding issue. Their rooms were split in two, one side for Veneer and the other for Velvet. It wasn’t the ideal living situation, but Velvet was the only one complaining about it.

The siblings looked completely different than what they used to. With no access to makeup in the facility, their faces were blank and deprived of any makeup and creams, and both adored the orange jumpsuits that read “Mount Rageous Correctional Facility” on the back. Velvet complained about her looks and image on the daily, as if it had not already been diminished.

Veneer sat at his desk with one of the books checked out from the Library, trying to somehow read and drown out the voice of his sister whining in the background. It was hard to do both at the same time so he closed the book with a loud sigh, “What is it this time, Vel?” he asked and spun around in his chair to look at his sister.

Velvet was half laying on the bed, her knees hanging over the edge. She threw her hands up and around dramatically as she spoke, “This isn’t fair! They took away another hour of my rec time from me just because I wanted an extra five minutes to eat. Didn’t I tell them I’m a slow eater?” She kicked her feet around as if she were a child having a tantrum.

Veneer leaned against his palm, unimpressed. As always. “And how did you ask for this extra five minutes?”

His sister glared. Did he Really ask her that as if she had done something wrong? “I asked, like a normal person! DUH!” she retorted sarcastically, throwing her hands up.

Veneer rolled his eyes. He seriously doubted that, but he wouldn’t say that out loud. “Maybe…just maybe Vel, you should ask a bit nicer,” he suggested and added before she could interrupt, “Unfortunately, the people here don’t like to deal with our attitudes.”

“Me? An attitude! As if! This place is worse than a shoe store with no branding,” she groaned. “And a restaurant without lobster.”

Veneer gave up talking to his sister and turned back toward his desk. There was no use arguing with Velvet. She was an entitled brat. She always tried to get the last word in, and it was impossible to point out her mistakes, or her flaws. In her eyes, she was flawless and never did wrong, and only did right. He’d dealt with that entitled attitude his whole life, and that attitude was the reason that he was in the correctional facility right now. It was honestly pathetic, but there was nothing that he could do about it except not give in to her tantrums and ignore them when they arose. Of course, it was easier said than done. She practically threw a rich snobby princess tantrum every day. “Why don’t you back me up anymore, like you used to?” Velvet abruptly sneered. Veneer could already see her expression without turning back around.

“Veneer, don’t ignore me.”

Over time, Veneer had found ways to stand up for himself. It was easier when they weren’t next to each other, but also because he was over her and her dramatic antics.

“Because.” Veneer closed the book he was trying to read, “It’s your fault we got into this whole situation in the first place.” He had to resist the urge to turn around and throw the book directly at her head.

“You didn’t exactly stop me when I kidnapped the Troll.”

“Because I couldn’t Velvet!” He argued, finally turning to her, “You took the Troll without even telling me at first. You put him in a diamond perfume bottle without a word. I knew it was suspicious when I suddenly caught you singing one day, or remotely have any talent. I bet if I didn’t walk in on you in your room that day with the Troll, that you would have kept all of that stolen talent yourself and left me at home with our parents, which by the way, I CARE about the fact that they disowned us. They get death threats because we scammed everyone, and can’t practice their dentistry anymore. They sold their business to pay off our debts, and you think they hate us? I know you hated them, but do you honestly think that they deserved all of that?” The entire ramble left him in a single mouthful it felt, leaving his sister appalled. He had so much to say to her that his words tumbled out almost all at once.

Velvet gasped, her jaw wide open and a hand over her heart, as if he tried to strike it. “They deserved it, Veneer, for the way they treated us growing up! They were nobodies and didn’t give us anything.”

“How did they treat us, Vel?! They literally did nothing wrong our entire lives! We had everything we wanted! You got a car for your sixteenth birthday and you pawned it off to buy a stupid golden ring! You don’t even have it anymore, you threw it down the drain when we became total frauds and got more money, which you used to buy worthless junk. Our parents are saints compared to how you talk about them.”

“Are you saying this is all my fault?”

“It is, Vel. It’s your fault we’re in here because of you. And I won’t change my mind about that.” He turned his back to her once again. Ever since they had been arrested, it had been nothing but anger between the siblings, bubbling over the tea kettle. Veneer swore that his steam was running out fast around her.

“It’s your fault too! You used the Troll as much as I did!”

Veneer ignored her.

“Veneer, you can’t throw all the blame at me!”

Veneer ignored her again, at least until he heard her stand up and stomp toward him. Right as he flipped around, she grabbed the front of his orange jumpsuit and began to shake him. She bared her teeth in anger at him, shaking him until his neck popped, “You can’t throw all the blame on me, Veneer! That’s just not fair. You used the Trolls just as much as me, so you’re not a perfect saint. Neither were our parents. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?!”

Metal clanged on metal and the siblings turned around to face the door of the cell. One of the Correctional Guards stood at the door, his baton against the cell bars, clinging back and forth until he had their attention. He glared at the two, though mostly at Velvet—the universal trouble maker. “Behave yourself Velvet, and stop arguing. That or I can extend your banishment from the rec room to the whole week. You wouldn’t want that would you?”

Velvet, still holding onto her brother’s shirt, glared at the officer, debating in her head if this was still worth it. If fighting her brother was worth the only freedom that they got in that joint. The two shared a long eye contact battle before she gave in, letting her brother go after shoving him back into the chair, and returned to her bed. “Whatever,” she snapped before rolling onto her side with her back facing the two.

Veneer adjusted his shirt before looking at the guard, a bit frazzled and his heart racing. Even she got to him sometimes. “Whew…” Saved by the guard.

The guard watched Velvet and when he felt as though she was calm enough, looked to Veneer, the one he really wanted to talk to. He took out his keys from his side pocket and the clanging of the metal made the two perk up. “Veneer, your counselor wants to see you now.”

Velvet immediately interrupted, sitting up, “What about mine? Doesn’t she want to see me?”

“She would, if you would stop destroying her office at every appointment.” He stopped fiddling with the keys and glared at the sister, waiting for her to settle down again. He looked to Veneer and waited for him to approach the bars, as part of the protocol for entering and leaving the cells.

“What for?” Veneer asked, approaching the cell door. “It’s not time for my appointment, is it? I don’t think it would be…” He sounded panicked.

The guard opened the door. Veneer was required to step out and press his back to the wall with his arms out and palms faced down. Veneer was a low threat so only one guard was needed, though at some point Velvet needed four. He quickly locked the door because as expected, Velvet threw herself against the door and grabbed the bars in rage and growled. She even reached down to try and swipe the keys as they were shoved back into a secure pocket. The guard scoffed in her face and turned to Veneer, patting him down. The guard took his shoulder and pulled him in front of him, letting him walk where he could see him.

Patting Veneer’s shoulder, he chuckled, “We really need to get you your own cell, buddy boy. Your sister gives me an ulcer everytime I open her cage. She’s like a dog who’s had everything handed to him, but still darts out the damn door whenever it opens.”

Veneer chuckled nervously, “Yeah…Uh, do you know why my counselor wants to see me? I didn’t do anything bad, did I?” He tried not to panic or ruminate like he used to. Besides, nothing he did was as bad as his sister…Though he honestly still felt as though he was a kid again, being sent to the principal's office, just multiplied by ten and with more consequences.

“I dunno, they don’t tell me anything. She didn’t seem mad, if that makes you feel any better.”

“I think it does.”

Veneer fidgeted his hands on the walk to his counselor’s office, guided by the guard. The guard opened the door and only shut it once Veneer sat across from his counselor. His counselor was a middle-aged blonde Mount Rageous person. She was prim and proper, and despite her strict posture and formalities of speech, she was a caring woman with bright blonde hair and honey amber eyes. Her office space matched the same atmosphere of her person. Everything was neatly arranged. There was a funky splash of red paint on the wall, pictures of cute animals under cheesy motivational quotes. There were also nick nacks scattered across the room. One of them was one of those solar powered bobble heads dancing along to no beat, sitting across from Veneer with a playful catty smile.

Linda greeted him with a warm smile. Veneer was still getting used to having someone like Linda to talk to. She always listened and never interrupted him, like his sister did.

“Dr. Graham…Uh, why am I here?” he asked and the emotions immediately flooded in, trapped within from where he had been dealing with his sister all day. He sunk down into his chair, trying to hide, “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

Linda gasped and reached across the table. She knew that Veneer wasn’t a touchy-feely person, so she touched the desk right in front of him instead. “No, no, no, dear! Actually, I have something exciting to share with you.” She waited for Veneer to slide back up into his chair and sit properly.

“What…is it?” Veneer asked hesitantly. He expectedly leaned forward.

Linda bounced, her own excitement showing as she pulled out a folder from her file cabinet. Everything was so perfectly organized that it took no time for her to find anything. “Since our system runs on good behavior, and you’ve been on your best behavior—might I say even better than those who have been here for years—we decided to give you a huge reward. Now, we don’t just give these away to every patient here!” Her hand was on a document, which she pushed across the desk then flipped it so it faced him.

Before him was a blank tan file cabinet folder.

Veneer’s eyebrow raised. “What’s in that?”

“You won’t know until you open it. Go on!” She pulled her hands back and clapped as Veneer reached for the folder. He picked it up and opened it to the first page. He read it and frowned.

Before he could get words out, Linda cheered and clapped her hands some more, “It’s our Pen Pal Program! We like to give these out to our top most behaved patients here. We were quite surprised to see how well you turned out, and how quick and well mannered you were, so don’t take this reward lightly!” She said and took the document back, flipping through the pages, explaining every single one of them until Veneer’s eyes couldn’t keep up with his brain.

“Wait, wait…So I earned this?” he asked and put his hands on the papers, taking them when Linda let go of them. “What do I do with this? How does it work?”

“It’s easy!” Linda began to explain, “You fill out these forms and I scan and put it into the system. After a bit of Beep Booping on the keyboard, the system finds a pen pal that will be suitable for you! The system is surprisingly 95 percent accurate. When a Pen Pal is assigned to you, you receive their first letter and then write a response to them. After that, you basically send letters back and forth to each other. It’s very old school and the only part that technically plays a role is to keep your documents up to hand and sort out who your Pen Pal is!”

Veneer was distracted by the exaggerated hand gestures Linda made as she talked. He shrugged it off and began to flip through the papers, looking at them carefully to make a decision. Having someone new and different to talk to sounded…different.

“If you fill this out right now while I still have you in my office, I should get everything uploaded and submitted within a couple hours.” Her fingers clacked loudly against the keyboard. Then she looked to Veneer and gave him one of her trusting, and warm smiles. “Is that something you’re interested in, Veneer?”

After looking through the last of the papers, Veneer took a second to think it over in his head. It would be nice to have conversations with someone from the outside world, considering he no longer had his parents. For once, he wouldn’t have a conversation centered around how did you get here? How did you get busted? Best of all, he could have someone to communicate with that wasn’t his sister. That was the icing on the cake. That’s what stood out to him the most.

Placing the papers back down on the desk, he looked to Linda with a determined expression. He held out a hand to her, brows knitting together. “Pen, please.”

“That’s it! YAY!” Linda took out a pen from the pen box that was organized by type of pen, colors, and probably even ink levels. Veneer took the pen and began to read everything meticulously and filled out blanks while he glanced over the paper. Linda was quiet, but played calming and relaxing music that she knew Veneer liked to help him focus.

The paperwork didn’t take long, and he finished it in less than thirty minutes. “Can you look it over and make sure I didn’t forget anything?” he asked, sounding timid as he handed the papers over.

Linda took the papers and flicked through the pages at lightning speed. A smile crossed her lips. “It’s perfect, I’ll get everything ready for you and you should get your Pen Pal within a week or two.” She looked at the watch on her wrist. “Woo, look at the time. You have to get back to the cell for quiet time. Your favorite time!” She clasped her hands together. “Veneer, I’m so proud of the growth you’ve gone through these past months. You must have been eager for change before you walked through our doors.”

Veneer blushed at the compliments and rubbed the back of his neck. She wasn’t necessarily wrong. “I’m not used to all these compliments…I don’t think I deserve all this praise.”

Linda shook her head and placed her hand back on Veneer’s spot on the desk, giving him a soft and understanding smile. “Just because your sister made you fight for affections, and do terrible things, doesn’t mean you’re less deserving of love. Remember what we talked about, okay?” She leaned back in her chair. “Also, Veneer?”

“Yeah?”

“I received your report for transferring rooms and approved it,” she answered, watching as Veneer became brighter every second. “We just have to wait for a room to become available, alright? You’re next on the list, I promise.” She nodded her head.

Veneer was disappointed knowing that he had to wait a bit longer, but nonetheless was happy that there was at least one person fighting for him. He nodded his head, determined before standing. “Thank you, Dr. Graham. For everything.” He felt appreciative of the woman, who had gone out of his way to help him become a better person.

A different guard stood outside when Veneer came out of the room, and nodded to the male. Walking in front of him again, he walked all the way back to his room. He felt an anxious pit in his stomach, knowing his sister was there waiting for him and already heard her voice hounding him to tell her everything he discussed with Linda, as she always did. And he didn’t want to do that. Sure enough, his sister was waiting for him with her hands on the bars, and once again the guards had to fight simply to keep Velvet within her cell. It was the same thing everyday, and maybe this Pen Pal program would help change things.

Veneer was tired of this life.

43 notes · View notes