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#i think for such a huge production as this how did nobody notice or complain?
amielnitrate · 9 months
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i miss mr. robot so much...watching that show as a kid fucked me up for the better
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mermaidsirennikita · 1 year
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I've noticed the historical accuracy purists avoid talking about The Great, I suspect because the show is very anachronistic so it's silly to complain about the costumes not being accurate plus they're just fantastic costumes all around and are considered as such so complaining about them would not be popular. This isn't Little Women 2019 or Bridgerton.
Again, for me, I don't really care about historical accuracy in costumes at all. I've seen "accurate" costumes that look like dog shit because a) focus was put on accuracy, but care was not taken to ensure that the budget wasn't compromised by that pursuit b) they do not translate well onscreen c) honestly? Not all looks are good ones, and alterations are sometimes needed to make the transition from "thing people wore 700 years ago" to "thing this fictional character is wearing in a production".
Costumes are not meant to be functional pieces that people wear day to day as the characters in their story and setting would wear them. They are meant to communicate character always, and (sometimes) story. They should not distract from that story, either.
But yeah, I agree with you--the reason why The Great isn't complained about as much with costumes is because the show tells it like it is re: its intentions. And honestly, the costumes are great. People who talk about costumes and know shit about historical accuracy re: costumes? Often love The Great's costumes. Because it really is done with so much intentionality and thought, and they are truly so well-crafted. I think the decision to dress Nick Hoult the way they do was a huge part of grounding us in that character, and honestly, helped make people open their hearts to the character sooner. He looked HOT in those clothes, and while his acting and the writing did the heavy lifting for the redemption arc.... the pants helped.
I also think some of them learned from Reign that when a show is truly balls to the wall, nobody watching that show gives a fuck about whether or not the costumes are authentic. Like, I remember people screaming "WHAT ABOUT FRENCH HOODS" with that show and it's like, my guy, I just saw Francis talk to the ghost of his dead father while he possessed a busty governess, I think we're past that.
I think everyone should just give up the ghost and focus on what looks good and what fits the story. Personally, I think the costumes in Bton look kind of cheap and poorly fitted much of the time; they were marginally better in season 2, but honestly, not by a lot (and I think the men's costumes look *marginally* better than the women's on a consistency level, but they've never known how to dress Luke Newton in a way that flatters his skin tone or his body type--and that's not a dig, it's a comment on the costumes). I don't think they serve the idea of a lush historical romance, but then, Bton doesn't wanna be that. If you look at the styling of Roxanne in Cyrano, eras aside, that's what gives me historical romance heroine more than.... many things I've seen. Or, if you want to look at something a bit more buttoned up and accurate, the way they styled Dido in Belle.
And Little Women 2019 fit that aesthetic, too; and that movie wasn't even trying to be about history, lmao, so I never got why people were upset. It was about the sisterly bond. It was about the emotionality. Change a few details and you could have transported the core narrative Gerwig was concerned with into so many other eras. And you had so many characters, and more narrative focus on Meg and Amy than other adaptations have granted, and as such it was so important that the sisters have different stylistic vibes. Meg's fresh youthfulness contrasted to her weariness post-marriage; Amy going from girlish to elegantly dignified refinement; Jo always being *very purposefully not of her time*, lmao.
Idk, I just wish people would focus on story and quality with costumes, versus accuracy. Everyone is creaming themselves over Alicia Vikander having a chin strap with her French hood in Firebrand, and while those costumes (from what I've seen) definitely look cool and high quality, I guarantee that much of the general audience will either a) not notice or b) think it's weird. But that's not me saying it's a bad move--it's me saying that these small details mean a lot to those of us who know, but the entire picture is much more important to everyone else.
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geekgirles · 3 years
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Full Disclosure
“I’m sorry for the way I used to act towards you when we were fourteen,” she admitted before softly adding, “especially when you and Danny were beginning to connect.”
Or
In which Sam and Valerie clear the air between them.
Word count: 5176
READ ON AO3
Before we go in, I just wanted to say that I hope I did the characters justice. Really, it’s all I ask because I’m still fairly recent in the fandom (as in, actively participating rather than fangirling on my own) and I’d hate to make a travesty of characters that mean so much to me. Oh, and this one-shot can take place in whatever timeline you want: you hate PP with a passion? Don’t worry, it didn’t happen. You actually think it’s a good finale? That works too. There shouldn’t be anything that indicates this story takes place in anywhere in particular other than Amity Park, so... All you need to know is that Valerie knows.
Please, enjoy!!
As an intense throb manifested itself in her right side, eliciting an involuntary groan to escape her throat, Sam was more frustrated at herself than aching from the hit. It had been two years already since Danny had the accident that gave him his powers, consequently beginning the constant battles against ghosts that made their teenaged life significantly harder, and, as they came to appreciate their lifestyle, significantly more interesting, too. Once Danny gained his ghost powers, she and Tucker took it to themselves to make sure their friend was always supported and aided when fighting his ghostly adversaries.
And with that came the injuries. 
They certainly didn’t get hurt as often or as gravely as Danny, since he was usually the one facing the mischievous spirits head-on, but they still had to get used to their own fair share of beatings. The teachers were understandably surprised when they effortlessly completed their first aid training in Health class. 
All in all, Sam was used to getting hurt. 
Which made the fact that Valerie had landed such a perfect kick that it literally left her breathless all the more humiliating.
Valerie Gray, a.k.a. the Red Huntress. Danny Phantom’s longtime pursuer and Danny Fenton’s one time girlfriend. The once popular girl was now their trustworthy ally. And, as much as Sam hated to admit it, she was thoroughly kicking her butt. Perhaps she should have expected as much from a ninth degree black belt. 
“Had enough, Manson?” Valerie taunted with a raised eyebrow. 
Getting up slowly, Sam sent her a smirk alongside a challenging, determined look. “Never.” And with that she leaped on the ghost huntress, using her momentum to connect a punch to her face. But Valerie was faster, blocking the Goth girl’s attack with her forearm before sliding her leg under Sam’s to make her lose her balance. Seeing what her opponent was up to, the violet-eyed girl quickly got out of her way, widening the space between the two to give herself some time to think up a new strategy. 
Smirking at Sam’s maneuver, Valerie appraised her with pride. “Not bad, Sam,” she said before changing her stance, ready to pounce, “but the extra space won’t save you from this.” Leaping into the air, the Red Huntress didn’t waste a moment to knock Sam to the floor with a roundhouse kick boosted by her movements. 
Even if the Goth blocked the attack by keeping her palms up in front of her face, the sheer force behind it was still enough to knock her down. That was gonna bruise in the morning, she was sure of it. Glancing up she noticed Valerie looking down at her with a smug look on her face and her hands on her hips. Sam barely resisted the urge to scowl darkly at her. Panting, she conceded, “Alright, alright. Maybe now I’ve had enough.” 
Chuckling at Sam’s proud nature, the green-eyed girl bent down slightly to offer her friend a hand and lift her up from the floor. Once Sam was at her eye-level, she looked down on her watch, now serving as a chronometre. “Five minutes. That’s a full round! Congratulations, Sam. So far, you’re the one who’s lasted the most against me.” She applauded her, but her face betrayed her. She was about to burst out laughing. 
Snorting, the Goth girl elbowed her slightly on the arm. “Knock it off! Even if I lost, I still managed to land a few hits myself.”
“Yeah...Trust me, you don’t have to remind me.” Valerie complained with a pointed look as she rubbed her lower back. Early on in the match, Sam kneed her there. Thank goodness she wasn’t tasked with unloading the Nasty Burger’s products that week. “I’m serious, though. Danny without his powers lasts a minute and a half, tops. And Tucker...well, let’s just say that taking one hit without passing out is already a victory when it comes to him.” 
“Yeah, he and Danny really should do more exercise.” The two girls laughed at that. These past two years Danny’s skill when using his powers had skyrocketed. Enemies that used to give him a hard time were now more of a headache. He didn’t even have to pay attention to the fight to get rid of the Ghost Box. Now, as Danny Fenton… He’d gotten taller, that was for sure. But he still had the nasty habit of relying on his powers a little too much, which didn’t do his P.E marks any favours. And Tucker was still far more interested in whatever his PDA had to offer than the wonders of physical exercise. 
In truth, everyone had changed during that time, if only a little. 
Sam was still as Goth and ultra-recyclo-vegetarian as always. Her raven hair was slightly longer, now reaching her shoulders, but she still wore it mostly loose and framing her face, except for the one strand she kept in a high ponytail. Her fashion sense hadn’t changed much either. She wore a black crop top with Danny’s logo on it instead of the old purple ovalーthe town began selling merchandise of its hero to attract, and basically rob, tourists. Since she created the logo herself, she made her own outfits and nobody was none the wiser. She also stuck with plaid skirts, but this time she favoured a purple and black one instead of her old black and green. But her combat boots, accessories, and make-up were sacred. Everybody knew impending doom was near if Sam ever changed even the tiniest detail in her appearance when it came to that. 
She was still outspoken and an avid defender of animal rights, individuality, and most importantly, of Danny Phantom. Even though most people celebrated the boy and thanked him for his services, there were still some who criticised him and believed Amity Park was better off before him. Needless to say, Sam was always at the front of the line in any protest to defend Amity Park’s greatest protector. The fact that he was not only one of her best friends but also her boyfriend may have something to do with it. But even if they weren’t together, Sam knew Danny. She’d always known him. She would always defend him from those who couldn’t even begin to grasp just how noble, responsible, and compassionate he was.
The corners of her mouth curled up slightly when she remembered she’d just been sparring with what once was one of Danny Phantom’s greatest detractors. 
In a way, Valerie had probably changed the most out of everyone she knew while simultaneously not changing anything at all. 
In terms of appearance, just like Sam, she’d only modified her look slightly. She cut her long, dark brown curls so they now barely reached her shoulders instead of cascading down her back. According to her, long hair just got in the way with her suit. She originally wanted to get an undercut, but her dad almost had a cow so they compromised with short hair for now and leaving the undercut for when she was a little older. The huntress still favoured spaghetti-strapped yellow t-shirts, but now she completed her outfit with dark blue jeans or shorts (depending on the temperature) and white sneakers. She also dropped the headband due to her hair, but she kept the earrings. 
The most obvious change, though, was that she was now an ally rather than an enemy after Danny Phantom’s head. Sam feared for the worst when Valerie found out her ex boyfriend was the very same ghost she’d vowed to destroy (could she really say she and Danny were exes, though? Sure, they went on a few dates and they genuinely liked each other, but Valerie pseudo-broke up with him right when he was about to ask her to make things official... Ugh, the wonders of the teenaged heart... Always bound to give her a headache. This is why she preferred her Goth indifference...most of the time). As much as they wanted to trust Valerie was going to be sensible about it, her track record wasn’t the best, forcing them to keep an eye out in case she decided to send her more positive opinion of Danny Fenton to Hell and shoot him with her ecto-bazooka. 
Thankfully, one day Valerie just sat down with them at lunch, and when Danny tentatively asked her if they were okay, she just smiled and said, “We’re okay.” So they ate lunch in peace...until the Lunch Lady showed up and they had to send her back to the Ghost Zone. At least that time the Red Huntress was there to help them out. Ever since then, the girl sometimes fought alongside them, but for the most part she did her own thing. 
And that was something about Valerie that hadn’t changed; her hatred of ghosts. Valerie was still hellbent on getting rid of all the spirits that haunted Amity Park, with half-ghosts being the sole exception ーexcept for Vlad, Valerie held a huge grudge against him for having used her as his pawn; not like the team could complain, they all hated Vlad, after all. And that made her ruthless, determined, brutal… More than once Danny had tried talking her out of her grudge against the paranormal, explaining to her that, albeit not as numerous as the troublemaking ghosts, there were still some that just wanted to be left alone. But Valerie would not budge. She believed all ghosts lacked the humanity and self-control necessary to resist whatever crazy obsession that tied them to our world and would eventually attack. 
To Valerie, ghosts were ticking bombs. 
Seeing as, so far, most ghosts they faced were malicious or seriously causing trouble, Tucker suggested they just let her be, but the moment she actually targeted an innocent ghost (say, Wulf), then they would have to get serious with her. 
All in all, Valerie was their friend. A friend who had agreed to help her train so Danny wouldn’t have to worry so much about her safety when they were out fighting spectres. Not like he really needed to worry, she could take care of herself, but the more prepared they were, the better. And Valerie was helping her with that, and yet, the air still hadn’t been completely cleared between them. 
As much as Sam would’ve loved cutting to the chase, a part of her still wasn’t prepared to address the elephant in the room. “Not gonna lie, Valerie, I wiー” she stopped mid-sentence. The last thing they needed was to have Desirée roaming free around Amity Park just because she hadn’t been careful with her words. Clearing her throat, she went on. “I mean, I would do anything for your fighting skills. You must have every ghost shaking in their boots...or whatever they have to shake in.”
As Sam sat down on the floor of her family’s private gym, which Valerie still couldn’t get used to being in, the green-eyed girl made her way to the other side of the room far away from  the training tatami, where a middle-sized fridge was located. Pulling the door open, she grabbed two water bottles before going back to Sam. “Yeah, what can I say? I am pretty awesome.”
“And don’t forget modest.” Sam replied sarcastically. 
“Girl, when you’re as good as me, you don’t need to pretend to be modest.” She joked as she handed Sam her own water bottle, which she accepted gratefully, before sitting down on the floor next to her. “Believe it or not, though, I became a ninth degree black belt long before I started hunting ghosts.” She looked at the floor, a pensive look on her face, “...we couldn’t have afforded the classes otherwise.”
Sam did her best to suppress the urge to do a spit-take at her words. Valerie almost never brought her financial situation up. The most she used to do was remember Danny why she hated him back when she still was after him, but the topic was dropped altogether once the secret was out. Looking around her ridiculously lavish house, Sam felt like facepalming herself. How could she have been so insensitive as to remind Valerie of the life she lost?! 
“Valerie...I-I’m sorry. I should’ve told you to meet up at the park to train, but I…”
“Sam, don’t.” The huntress cut her off with a stern tone. “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for.”
“But it was insensitive of me toー” Again, she was interrupted by Valerie, who silenced her by raising her palm up in front of her.
“Please, let me talk. You don’t have to apologise for anything because you’ve done nothing wrong. I’ll admit, it’s a bit paradoxical finding out that while I was mourning my losses you’d been hiding the fact that you’re stinking rich all along. But I’m not offended by it. Actually, I think I understand.”
“You do?” The Goth girl asked in disbelief, her eyes wide open. 
The African-American girl just shrugged. “I think so. I didn’t realise it until my so-called friends kicked me out of the group, but having money attracts a lot of fakes and shallow people. People who’ll only be there when it’s convenient for them and who’ll throw you away like a used tissue the moment you have nothing else to offer. I know that better than anyone…” When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she looked up to see Sam smiling kindly at her, doing her best to get out of her comfort zone and offer her some comfort. She returned the smile. “Bottom line: you want real friends, so you never talk about your money ‘cause you don’t want to attract the wrong people. I get it.”
“You really do.”
“And I guess I’m also flattered.”
Sam blinked slowly at her. “Wow, Valerie. It usually takes a lot to take me by surpriseーwith the ghost fighting and allーand yet, here we are!” 
The huntress just chuckled softly in response. “What I mean is that I understand that it takes you a lot to let people inーand quite literally tooーbut you still invited me. That means you must trust me, if only a bit.”
Sam couldn’t help but blush at her earnest words. It was true, wasn’t it? She trusted Valerie. She would have never invited her to her house if she didn’t. And, now that she thought about it, Valerie had to trust her too if she was willing to show her vulnerable side to her. Somehow, the thought made her smile. Knowing she would have to bring up uncomfortable topics soon, the violet-eyed girl decided to alleviate some of the tension first. “Well, I’m glad you could at least get your black belt first! Otherwise we would be in for a major asskicking from some ghosts.”
That comment actually made Valerie laugh. “Oh, hush, you flatterer! Or I’ll tell Danny his girlfriend has been hitting on me.” She could only snort when Sam gasped in fake shock. “Seriously, though. I personally would love to be as genre savvy as you are. I mean, you always know what to do or have some obscure knowledge about whatever we’re facing. From the Fright Knight’s legend to how to train your dragon ghost.”
Sam merely shrugged with a lazy grin on her face, “What can I say? Obscure knowledge sort of comes with being a Goth.”
The two girls started snickering after that. As their laughter died down, Valerie noticed Sam’s smile fading from the corner of her eye, concerning her. “Sam? Is everything okay?”
“Valerie...I’m sorry.” 
That took her by surprise. After a few seconds of shock, the Red Huntress rolled her eyes good-naturedly before gently nudging her friend with her shoulder. “C’mon, Sam. I told you already. You don’t have to feel sorry for inviting meー.”
This time it was Sam who cut her off. She shook her head. “No. No, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m sorry for the way I used to act towards you when we were fourteen,” she admitted before softly adding, “especially when you and Danny were beginning to connect.”
One would think that a semi-professional ghost huntress would have seen it all, and honestly, so did Valerie, but she was genuinely shocked at Sam’s apology. The shock didn't last long, though. “Are you seriously apologising for that? Sam, that was two years ago!”
Of all the things she could be apologising for...She just had to pick that one, didn’t she?
Sam groaned, frustrated and clenching her gym shorts with her hands. “I know it’s been two years, but that doesn’t change that I wasn’t the most pleasant person in the world to you for reasons that weren’t...completely pure.”
“So what?” Valerie insisted. “Neither was I for the longest time! You and Tucker were right when you called me out during Pariah Dark’s attack; how could I expect to be treated like one of the group when I used to be such a brat to you? You still eventually forgave me.” She pointed out.
“You don’t understand…” Sam whined as she rubbed her face with her hands. “While it’s true that part of my animosity towards you came from how you used to treat us, and another good chunk came from your eagerness to vaporise one of my best friends,” the Red Huntress actually had the decency to blush embarrassedly at that, “I really, really disliked you because I was...well, I was jealous. Plain and simple.” 
There. She’d said it. After years gritting her teeth and burning with envy whenever Danny and Tucker (mostly because of Danny, obviously) drooled over Paulina or any other pretty girl, she had finally admitted she was mostly jealous instead of simply not understanding what the fuss was about. Hanging out with girls more often, namely Valerie and Jazz, instead of only spending her time with the guys had really helped broaden her horizons. Especially when it came to her opinion on other girls. She was proud to say she was finally moving on from her “not like other girls” phase. 
Even if Danny’s crush on Paulina had driven her nuts more than once, it was his budding romance with Valerie that truly pushed all her buttons and caused her deepest insecurities to rear their ugly head. Even if dating her was dangerous, Danny still wanted to be with her! He was willing to throw caution to the wind if it meant they could be a couple. And he was so protective of her when Technus attacked… As much as Sam hated to admit it, as much as she wished (to Hell with Desirée) she could ignore it all and just focus on protecting Danny from being hunted by his new girlfriend, that hurt.
That hurt a lot. 
Albeit annoying, Danny’s crush on Paulina was safe. Paulina only liked Danny Phantom. Danny couldn’t really get closer to her as his alter-ego without putting her in danger, and Danny would never put an innocent person in danger. And just like that, Paulina became unattainable. But Valerie…
Valerie liked Danny Fenton. She and Danny often just wanted to have a normal life, away from ghosts and burdens that no 14-year-old kid should shoulder. Even if the Red Huntress wanted to kill Danny Phantom, Valerie genuinely liked Danny Fenton. Despite the danger, she was closer than Paulina. And despite their close bond, she was closer to Danny than Sam herself. Because Valerie wasn’t afraid to admit her feelings, unlike her. 
In fact, hadn’t Valerie put her job before her love life, Sam knew without an ounce of a doubt that she and Danny would still be together. Because she had been too afraid to tell Danny how much he meant to her sooner. 
Yes, she had been jealous of Valerie. 
She had been jealous of the attention she received from Danny. She had been jealous of the fact that they went out on several dates and nothing could embarrass them or ruin their little moment. She was jealous because it would’ve meant things would change. 
But most importantly, she was jealous of Valerie’s guts. 
And she finally confessed it.
...which made what Valerie said next all the more jaw-dropping. 
“Yeah, I know.”
Her jaw hanging low and eyes as wide as saucers, Sam slowly turned her head to look the huntress dead in the eye. “You know?” She asked, completely flabbergasted. 
Valerie snorted. She actually snorted at her question! And while Sam was looking at her with the most comically astonished expression on the face of the planet, Valerie just regarded her with a coy smile. “No offence, Sam, but it was kinda hard to miss. I think only Danny wasn’t aware of it.”
Sam had nothing to say in response to that. 
“Besides, didn’t I tell you before I even started going out with Danny? When you like someone, if you don’t make a move, somebody else will. What did you think I was referring to other than your feelings, chess?”
“That...is true.” The Goth admitted quietly. 
Seeing her usually outspoken friend acting so despondent all of a sudden didn’t sit well with the green-eyed teenager. She sighed, “Look, Sam. I understand that you were...difficult because you were jealous. I can’t deny I once or twice acted petty towards you because I was jealous, myself. But even if I hadn’t decided to just stay friends with Danny, I don’t think we would’ve worked out in the end.”
Not for the first time that day, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last time either, Valerie had taken her completely aback. Furrowing her brow in confusion, Sam insisted, “What are you talking about? You two are the best ghost hunters in Amity Park, you guys would have been the ultimate power couple!”
Leaning back on her elbows, the Red Huntress sent the Goth a smirk, “Ah, but you’re forgetting I would’ve had to know Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom were one and the same first. And I…”, for the first time since their sparring lesson began, Valerie found herself hesitating, “I don’t know how I would’ve taken that.
“Sure, I really, really liked Danny, but I had spent far longer hating his ghost half. Ever since the Cujo-related incidents I blamed him for the turn my life had taken. And even when I was growing fond of Danny Fenton, his actions as Danny Phantom still drove me nuts! I mean, he literally unmasked me right before my dad! He forbade me from ghost hunting until I got that upgrade in my suit. Could I really put all that aside in favour of having a relationship with him?
“That’s why it took me so long to face you guys once I learned the truth; I was trying to make peace with it all. I figured I could learn to forgive Danny, maybe even trust him with my life...but never with my heart again. There were too many imbalances between us for me to be comfortable in a relationship with him...and you guys are honestly better together anyways.” She winked at the ultra-recyclo-vegetarian.
“You really think so?” Sam could feel the heat making its way to her cheeks the moment Valerie nodded at her question. “I-I mean!”, ugh, how she hated stuttering!, “Danny’s always been super important to me...obviously! And we’ve always done our best to be there for each other and have each other’s backs, but there are times when I can’t help but wonder if perhaps we’re just making a mistake and we were better off as friends…” She finished with a defeated sigh. 
At the sensation of an arm wrapped around her shoulders, she turned to look at Valerie. “Sam, trust me. This is no mistake. You’re one of the very few people who understand there’s no difference between Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom; they’re both Danny and you’ve always known that and done your best to show him just that. And unlike Paulina or me, even if you hadn’t known his secret from the beginning, I’m willing to bet my right arm that you would’ve accepted both sides of him equally either way.”
At her words, Sam could only smile warmly, “You really think so?”
Valerie returned her smile. “I know so.”
Still replaying Valerie’s words and organising her own thoughts in her head, Sam turned to face her, one hand resting on her lap and the other on Valerie’s shoulder, “For what it’s worth, I still think that after a, very understandable, initial bump in your relationship, you two could’ve made a great couple too. I meant what I said when I told you that, if Danny liked you, then we would only have to make room for you at our table. I can’t think of any girl I would be willing to do that for but you, Val.”
Valerie almost gasped at Sam’s words, but she recovered rather quickly, “Thank you, Sam. That means a lot coming from you.” Resting her own hand on top of the one on her shoulder, she winked mischievously at her, “And don’t worry; I don’t go around stealing my friends’ boyfriends.”
The Goth girl snorted at that. “Glad to hear that.”
They remained like that for a moment, just enjoying the comfortable silence that had settled between them and their secret understanding. They were friends. They had similarities and differences. But that would never change the respect each felt for the other. 
Finally, getting up from the floor and dusting herself off, Valerie broke the silence, “Come on, there’s still many moves I haven’t used to kick your butt.” 
Sam smirked at the challenge, “Oh, you’re so on!”
................
The Fentons’ Emergency Ops Centre had, ironically, become their safe haven. 
Whenever they wanted to enjoy some alone time before they had to part ways or a ghost attack took place, they would simply climb up the roof and enter through the door leading to it. Although Danny could just phase or fly them there if they were really pressed for time, which was their usual way of getting there because they were always pressed for time. 
The Ops Centre was really just an excuse to spend some time together, really.
It didn’t matter what they did. Sometimes they would make out because they were a couple and couples made out with each other, didn’t they? Especially when said couple consisted of two hormone-driven teenagers. Maybe if they’d been a pair of octogenarians, the fuss of the relationship would have been elsewhere. Like how incredible it was that they’d survived that long in the first place.
Other times they just talked about nothing and everything at the same time. Sort of like what they usually did, but without Tucker. Sam would often talk about the latest hideous monstrosity their parents had intended she wore ー”Oh, you’re laughing now! But trust me, Undergrowth had much better fashion sense than my parents!”ー, or how rapidly the poles were melting and nobody was doing anything about it, or how her latest poetry reading went ー“Kwan’s getting better, actually. This time he wrote about the new scabs he got during the last game”ー, and how they could defeat the villain of the week who was somehow harder to beat than the previous one because, really, they always got harder to beat. 
And Danny would recall his parents’ latest shenanigans, or Jazz’s newest psychological experiment with ghosts that she was sure was going to work because it was just flawless; or he’d warn her about the food in his house ー”I know you don’t eat meat anyways, but don’t open the fridge. The ecto-weenies are back and this time they’ve brought BBQ sauce.” He would also complain about the workload of homework Mr Lancer had assigned them; sometimes because he didn’t think he’d have the time to finish it all, and sometimes he just didn’t know where to start because what the Heck is irony anyway? Didn’t anyone realise that what they often called irony was actually more of a paradox? How could they be teaching something wrong in English class?! And, sometimes, in those rare moments where Danny finally realised, only to forget his lesson all over again the next day, that he could count on her, Tucker, Jazz, Val ーand his loved ones, damn it!ー and confide his deepest secrets, he would open up about how being Danny Phantom was taking its toll on him. How being famous was more often than not more suffocating than flattering. How he was getting tired that his enemies only ever came back, or became stronger, or multiplied. How he feared, no, how he felt it was never going to end until he was 100% dead and not just 50%... He even still had trouble understanding what truly happened to him the day of the accident. 
And maybe they just would never know. 
And then, there were days like today. Days where they would just stay in silence, watching Amity Park since the makeshift observatory his zany but genius parents had built all on their own. Because, sometimes, watching the sunset in silence with that special someone was just enough. 
While Danny leaned against the railing, Sam was sitting on top of it, enjoying the soft breeze blowing around her and caressing her skin. “Today I trained with Valerie.”
Perking up at the sound of her voice suddenly breaking the silence, Danny turned his head slightly in her direction. “Oh?” He let out, “How did it go?”
“I managed to last a full five minutes and land a few serious hits myself.” She stated proudly. 
The ghost boy whistled appreciatively, “Five full minutes! Now that’s impressive.” He sent her a sly look and a smirk, his admiration turning into amusement, “And how many hits did you cushion?”
Curling her lip in annoyance, Sam muttered, “The fact that I’m even sitting here is a miracle in itself.”
That had Danny snickering like crazy, before a sharp pain in his arm stopped him, “Ow!” 
To his surprise, instead of a smug Sam as he expected, he found his girlfriend gingerly rubbing her arm, a pained expression on her face. “Okay,” she panted, “that was so not worth it.”
“Here, let me help.” Gently resting his fingers on her arm, he used his ice powers to send a chilly sensation across her limb, effectively alleviating the pain. “Anything else I should know about? Did the training turn into a battle to the death?”
“Actually, we talked things out and we finally buried the hatchet.” She said seriously.
Danny furrowed the brow in confusion. “Uh, Sam? I was kidding. And I thought you already did that when she found out the truth about my powers.”
Chuckling softly, Sam could only roll her eyes with a smile on her face as she leaned close to leave a tender kiss on his lips before whispering, “Clueless.”
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asthmark · 4 years
Text
❝ not alone ❞, l.ty
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synopsis → “you know, every reset we’re supposed to forget everyone and everything but no matter what i can never seem to forget how happy you make me.”
word count → 2.5k
warnings → angsty!!! the plot may not make sense since it’s literally 1 in the morning oops
a/n → i hope this concept makes sense and it isn’t too confusing or messy!! if it is just shoot me an ask i would be more than happy to clarify :] anyway i actually like the outcome of this but i am too tired to go back and reread it all for any mistakes so i just hope google docs has my back lol gn everyone
7:00 A.M.
the alarm you set for every year at the exact hour goes off at its appointed time, much to your dismay. the mere sound of your phone beeping has a knot forming in your stomach. you wished it would stop, that everything would just stop but that was beyond unrealistic. in fact, you felt foolish for even letting yourself think like that. no matter how badly you wanted things to change, they never would. you would have to endure the same things every year.
you had struggled to fall asleep the night before, that exact thought on your mind and the dread of facing the following day eating away at you. you had only managed to get some rest because of taeyong, who held onto you tightly and caressed your hair as he whispered sweet words to ease you into much needed sleep.
but the day was here now and there was no amount of romantic words or tender touches that would change that. there was absolutely nothing either of you could do about it.
you lean over towards your nightstand to turn off the alarm and taeyong stirs when he feels you begin to shift around in his arms. you lay beside him, staring up at the ceiling as he slowly begins to wake up. he yawns and stretches his limbs out on the mattress which was routinely for him. this would usually be followed by him trying to give you a smooch only for you to squirm away, giggling as you complained about his morning breath.
it is not one of those mornings.
8:09 A.M.
you end up having cereal for breakfast, another big switch up from your routine. normally, you two would browse the internet in search of a recipe that looked promising and try your best to recreate it. you would end up with flour, sugar and dirty dishes all over the place but you never cared. then you would sit at the couch, happily enjoying the finished product and chatting with the tv playing softly in the background.
that morning you sit at the dinner table silently, the cereal in your bowls going soggy before either of you had made a dent in it. you had lost any appetite and from the looks of it so has taeyong.
“you should eat.”
you glance up at your boyfriend. he isn’t eating either, instead he focuses on dipping his spoon into his cereal, bringing it above the bowl only to let it fall back in again. you put your silverware down. “i don’t think i can.”
he hums softly, agreeing with you. “are you nervous?”
it went without saying that you were both terrified. but you know he’s just trying to make conversation. you just nod your head anyway.  
10:31 A.M.
you and taeyong move to sit on the couch, turning on the tv so you don’t have to bear anymore uncomfortable silences.
even the newscaster looks down in the dumps, as expected. her voice lacks emotion as she speaks about the forecast, knowing nobody would be taking genuine interest unless it was to get their mind off of the current situation.
what did she expect? the world was restarting, people weren’t going to care about the weather.
“now, for the ongoing events,” says another news anchor. “as we are all well aware of, today is the annual reset. businesses worldwide have closed, most people opting to spend the day with their friends and family and we advise any viewers to do the same. talk to your loved ones about the memories you’ve made in the past year and write down the things and people you do not want to forget.”
you turn to taeyong only to find his gaze is already focused on you. you don’t hesitate to grab the hand that rests in his lap and intertwined his fingers with yours. neither of you say a word as you go back to watching the television, taeyong giving your hand a reassuring squeeze every so often.
12:46 P.M.
by noon, you and taeyong had begun cleaning your apartment, making sure it was well organized so that the next day you could focus only on getting settled in to your, essentially, new lives. you do the standard dusting and vacuuming along with similar around-the-house chores. while going through the closet, taeyong finds a shoe box full of polaroids you two had taken throughout the years. there are dates and other additional notes scribbled in sharpie on every single picture so your post-reset selves could read about the details of each photo since you would not be able to remember it. he calls out your name, smiling brightly when he sees your face light up as you fondly look over your shared moments.
“i’m so glad we got that camera,” you say, shifting through a stack of the photographs.
he nods. “probably your best idea yet.”
you find a picture of him giving you a piggyback ride and coo. it’s quite blurry but you can clearly see the huge grins on your faces. “look at us.” you hand him the photo. “we look so happy.”
he makes a noise of agreement, staring lovingly at the image. “you know, every reset we’re supposed to forget everyone and everything but no matter what i can never seem to forget how happy you make me.”
“quit it.” you shove his shoulder, smiling sadly as you attempt to blink away the tears forming in your eyes. “i don’t want to cry right now, there’s still so much work to do.”
“it can wait.” he opens his arms and that’s all it takes for you to break. you crawl into his embrace, sobbing softly into his chest. it tugs at his heart strings. he tucks his chin above your head but you still notice how his shoulders shake and quiet hiccups escape his lips.
3:28 P.M.
once you and taeyong get tired of being confined to your apartment, you decide to go out for a breath of fresh air. you walk around aimlessly and your final destination turns out to be olympic park. as expected, it’s quite empty since as you had heard on the news, everyone was spending their last couple hours with those they loved in private.
you take in the beautiful scenery and if either you catch sight of a pretty rock or blooming flower, you will stop to pick it up and carefully place it in your pockets for safe keeping. you had found that they served as good reminders of all the time you spent together. in fact, there are many more of these mini souvenirs in your home, decorating your shelves.  
“hold up,” says taeyong suddenly.
when you look at him his eyes have zeroed in on something on the ground. he kneels down and picks up a smooth rock. you can’t help but notice the familiarity of it’s color.
“pretty, right?” he says, dropping the item in the palm of your hand. “it matches your eyes.”
you smile at him, finding his attention to detail incredibly endearing. you hold on to the rock, feeling its curves with your fingers until a cluster of chrysanthemums catches your attention and you have to free up your hands to pick one. you decide on a yellow one and present it to your boyfriend.
“here,” you say. “for you.”
“hey, aren’t i supposed to be the one giving you flowers?” taeyong asks but he takes it from you anyway.
“you’re supposed to give flowers to people you like,” you say. “and i like you.”
“you like me?” he asks, gasping softly. “how embarrassing.”
you go along with his joke. “don’t you like me too?”
he shakes his head and makes a face. “no way... i love you.”
you shove his shoulder. “so cheesy.”
he can’t argue with that so he just nods and chuckles as he tucks the chrysanthemum into his dark locks of hair. at seeing this, you raise the polaroid camera round your neck toward taeyong and he, already used to it, automatically poses for you. he puts his arms over his head, curving them into a kind of crooked heart. he gives an open mouthed smile only resuming to his normal position when he hears the click of the camera. you and him share a laugh once the polaroid picture develops completely.
“oh god, i look ridiculous,” he comments. “please get rid of that.”
you only give him a sarcastic, “yeah sure” and continue walking.
you two never got rid of pictures, no matter how ridiculous or unflattering they were. you agreed that every moment you shared counted and deserved to be remembered.  
although, they never would be.
5:45 P.M.
you chew on the cap of your pen, massaging your aching hand. you had been writing for almost an hour and you had your cramping fingers to prove it. despite the discomfort, you aren’t one to break tradition. the ‘things i love about you’ list was an ongoing thing you and taeyong had been doing for... ever. they definitely came in handy if either if you wanted to read about what the other was like in past years.
“everything good over there?” taeyong asks, from the other side of the couch.
you shake your head. “this is too hard. i have no idea how i’ve kept this up for four years.”
he puts a hand over his heart. “wow, i’m that hard to love, huh?”
“you know that’s not what i meant,” you say, glaring. “i just have so much stuff to say about you, so much stuff i want future me to know.”
he nods, solemnly. “i get it. i don’t want to leave out a thing but it’s kinda hard to fit a year’s worth of feelings and emotions into a couple pages.”
your let your head fall onto the couch. “why do you have to be so lovable?”
taeyong points an accusing finger at you. “i could ask you the same thing! you’re the most wonderful human being on the planet, if i try to write everything i love about you my hand will fall off!”
you sit up to stare at him. he looks genuinely offended by your ‘wonderfulness’. you pick up your pen and paper.
adorably dramatic, you write.
he scoots closer to you, exclaiming, “hey, what did you just put!”
you hug your notepad tightly to your chest. “no peeking!”
7:12 P.M.
your boyfriend hands you his letter with hopeful eyes. unlike the lists that had been made hours earlier, these writings had been in the works for quite some time. there are letters you and taeyong had written for each other dated all the way from 2016. that was also the year the first polaroids you owned were from so you both assumed it was when you had begun dating. if you ever want to have a good cry, all you have to do is find those letters.
in them, there are heartfelt words for the other person’s eyes only describing how they felt around them, why they were so special, among other sentiments. most importantly, though, you always included why you would never forget the other person. of course, one could say how ironic this was considering that forgetting was what the reset was all about but nevertheless, it was reassuring to read. it made your love seem unbreakable; something so strong it defied the impossible.  
you give taeyong your letter, feeling somewhat nervous. he doesn’t hesitate to open the envelope carefully. he slowly removes your letter from inside and you mirror his delicacy. the pair of you sit in absolute silence as you read the words off the pages.
my y/n,
what an amazing year it’s been with you. i know i say that in every letter i write but it’s really true. i never wrote things like this before you came along. only the basics—my name, who my parents were, my birthday, etc. you know, things like that. frankly, i had nothing else worth remembering. but now i do. you’re my whole world, the only thing i truly know and i am convinced i could not be any happier or luckier.
i don’t know what a life without you is like literally but i wouldn’t have it any other way. the situation the world faces with this whole reset mess isn’t ideal and i’ll oftentimes think of what a normal life would be like. even then, in this perfect universe, you’re still by my side.
i still wake up next to you.
i still spend every waking moment with you.
i still fall asleep with you in my arms.
you are still my everything. i am convinced you always will be.
many people avoid love or close relationships nowadays knowing that at the end of the year it’ll all be erased no matter what. how dumb is that? they don’t know what they’re missing out on. having a partner is nothing short of a blessing and you’ve taught me that by being with me every step of the way. sure, forgetting our past together doesn’t get any easier and neither does writing these letters but i’d write a million of them if that’s what it took to have you by my side.
i can only hope you’ll continue being there for me and give me something worth remembering in future years.
you are the light of my life and i can’t wait to fall in love with you again.
yours truly,
taeyong
the tears stroll down your cheeks and drip down on to the paper in your shaky hands. you use your sleeve to try and wipe them away to the best of your ability without smudging the ink. taeyong finishes reading your letter moments later, placing on the coffee table and only staring at you with a distant look in his eyes.
your voice comes out in a whisper. “are you okay?”
he nods, sniffling but his shiny eyes say otherwise. “can you maybe just... hold me?” his voice cracks along with your heart.
he ends up with his head in your lap, your fingers pulling and tugging at his soft hair. you have a couple hours left but you wouldn’t be opposed to leaving the year in this exact position.
11:59 P.M.
taeyong has made it clear he wants you to be the first thing he sees when you enter the new year. so, you spend your last minute getting into a position that will allow that.
you end up sitting sit cross-legged across from him. he’s in the same position and in the small distance between you, your fingers meet. the hold he has on your hands is so tight his knuckles have turned white. his eyes bore into yours and although he doesn’t say a word, his hazel orbs let you know it’s all going to be okay. you repeat those words to yourself.
it’s going to be okay.
it’s going to be okay.
it’s going to be okay.
“i love you,” you blurt.
he only has a couple seconds to respond.
“i love you, too. if you’re going to remember one thing, let it be that.”
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pilot-boi · 4 years
Text
Snowed In
The first snow of the school year was shaping up to be quite the storm. Not the blow your house down kind of storm, but definitely the bury your house in mountains of frozen water kind of storm.
Ren just wants to get some studying done if he can, and then stay in before the snow buries the whole campus. But he might not be getting buried alone, which might be less irritating than he thinks.
(Secret Santa for @katmotif )
Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful. And since we’ve no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
AO3 LINK
The sky was growing dark outside, and stars would be twinkling into view if it weren’t for the thick blanket of clouds cushioning the sky. The air was crisp and cold, warning of frost and even colder weather to come.
After days of threatening, and warnings from the campus weather service that nobody heeded, the clouds that had been looming all week were finally fulfilling every student’s wish. Flakes of snow drifted silently from the heavens, dusting the roofs of buildings and cars alike.
While it was getting dark, it was not quite late enough for the streets to be abandoned. So occasionally a car would trundle past, making spotlights in the snow with its headlights. Or a particularly unlucky student would be seen trudging back to their dorm room through the gathering drifts.
One such student was Lie Ren, who was shuffling back to his dorm after a day of studying at the local coffee joint. As soon as the flakes started actually accumulating, he’d waved goodbye to his roommate Jaune, who was one of the unlucky employees, and had headed out the door.
Ren didn’t have a car, and he usually elected to walk around campus instead of employing some sort of transportation. So if he wanted to make it back to his room before the streets became completely un-navigable, he unfortunately had to leave much sooner than normal.
Jaune was not going to have fun biking back through all of this, poor guy.
So there Ren was, messenger bag slung over one shoulder, scarf wrapped tightly around his face, and water soaking through his shoes and into his socks. His breath fogged up the air in front of his face, and, more annoyingly, also fogged up his glasses.
Who needed eyesight anyway? He was seriously debating just taking them off, if only so he could freaking see.
Reaching his building, he swiped his card at the door, waved at the desk attendant, and hiked up all the flights of stairs to his room. He should have the room to himself for the rest of the evening, since Jaune was likely to be occupied at his job for the remainder of the night.
Ren wanted nothing more than to just sit at his desk with a cup of tea and let his mind relax into the comforting haze of schoolwork he already knew the answers to.
All his hopes were dashed when he got nearly tackled to the ground by what looked at first glance like a high-speed ball of cotton candy.
“Reeeeennnn!!” yelled the cotton candy ball, who revealed herself to be Nora Valkyrie. “You’re back already?” she demanded, already dragging him back into his dorm room.
“Nora? How are you here?” he asked, allowing himself to be dragged out of the hallway, through the common area, and into his room. “Did you bully Jaune into giving you his key? Again?” he continued, sighing slightly as he shrugged his scarf off his shoulders.
Nora pouted and plopped herself on his bed, kicking her legs petulantly. “Ren, do you have so little faith in me? I would never! Such baseless accusations, how could you?”
“Nora.” He wasn’t even looking at her as he took off his coat, but he could feel her rolling her eyes at him.
“Okay fine, yeah I did,” she replied, grinning cheekily. “But I promise it’s the last time!”
“Really?” he commented, grabbing his electric kettle and leaving Nora alone in the room to fill it with the water he needed. He didn’t believe her in the slightest. “I don’t believe you in the slightest.”
“Weeeeellll...” he heard Nora trail off noncommittally, in a way that didn’t get Ren’s hopes up at all. “I promise it’s the last time I steal Jaune’s room key!” Ren leveled an unconvinced look at her as he came back into the room. “No really, it is! I’m gonna get Ruby to 3D print me a copy in her next lab!”
She seemed extremely proud of her solution to the problem of how she was going to continue to break into his room. “Nora, I don’t think that’s allowed,” he reminded her, settling the kettle back onto its stand and setting it to boil.
Nora waved him off. “Pffft! Sure it’s not allowed! But it was either this, or breaking out the lock-picking kit Sun got me for my birthday.” Ren reminded himself to remind Jaune to complain to Neptune to yell at his boyfriend for giving Nora the disastrous present. “Besides, you never answered my first question!”
“Which question was that, exactly?” he asked, pulling out a couple of mugs, green tea for him, and specifically the box of non-caffeinated hot chocolate for Nora. Ren’s chances of getting any actual work done were lowered drastically by Nora being here, but they would be non-existent if she managed to get her hands on caffeine.
“Why you’re back so early!” she reminded him, stealing the container of marshmallows before he could stop her. Popping a few in her mouth, she commented, “I thought I’d be waiting around for-EV-er for you!”
“Have you been here that long already?” Ren asked, raising a fond eyebrow at her. He casually pulled the box of marshmallows back out of her hands and ignored her when she pouted. “If you eat all of these, there won’t be any left for your cocoa.”
“So what? They’re still ending up in my belly where they rightfully belong.”
“Now you’re ignoring my question.”
“Hmm? Oh right!” She bounced on his bed, kicking her shoes off to join Ren’s pair placed neatly at the foot of his bed. “But yeah my construction class got cancelled so I got done early. But you usually don’t get back until like freaking midnight!”
It was true. As much as the coffee shop was rarely quiet and he tended to get less work done than he would like, even there he still managed to get sucked into his work and not notice how much time was passing.
More times than not one of the employees would have to usher him out with a sheepish and apologetic smile because he was keeping them from closing up.
“So what’s the deal with that?” she asked, flopping onto her back to stare at him upside down. “Why’re you back already?”
“It’s snowing,” Ren replied simply, nodding at the darkening sky outside his window and the flakes that drifted past. “I wanted to get back before the roads disappeared,” he explained, lifting the whistling kettle off its stand and pouring twin streams of hot water into their mugs.
“What?!” Nora exclaimed, tumbling off his bed and somehow miraculously landing on her feet in a show of nimbleness that definitely would’ve eluded his roommate. “It’s snowing and you didn’t tell me?!”
Ren rolled his eyes at her mock display of offense, hand pressed to her chest and everything. “How was I supposed to know it was going to snow today specifically?” He set his tea to steep in one mug and poured a spoonful of cocoa mix into the other. “You’re the one who’s been waiting all week for this.”
He passed Nora her mug, who had to stop her bouncing to save herself from the burns the sugary drink would definitely give her despite her love of it.
Finally settling down at his desk with his bag and his books and a mountain of papers to finish, Ren got to work on his work. Not his work for work, of course, but damn if his psych professor didn’t make that class feel like a full time job anyway.
Nora started telling him about her day, and his mouth tilted up into a smile in spite of himself. After about a minute her mug was already empty, refilled twice more, and then abandoned. She set it next to his, and without thinking he removed it from the paper she’d set it on, and rotated it so that it faced the same way as his own mug.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ren could see her pacing back and forth and making huge gestures with her arms as she explained some disaster that a fellow stage hand got into. Ren knew that Nora knew that he was only half-listening, but he loved hearing about her day more than he was ready to acknowledge.
He’d comment every so often, and her eyes would light up every time he responded. Even the glimpses he got of her bright-eyed freckle-faced smile were enough to warm him more than the tea ever could.
After about a half an hour of no interruptions, filled with blissful quiet, productive work, and no cocoa refills, he started to get suspicious. Nora not babbling extensively was… oddly off-putting.
It was like when a canary suddenly went silent in a coal mine. You knew something had gone terribly wrong with the universe.
But honestly what was most strange was that he missed her rambling. Ren would’ve thought that she would distract him, but somehow the silence of his room was more deafening than she ever could have been.
He didn’t know how, but he’d gotten used to her stream of consciousness. And now with it gone, when normally he wouldn’t have even noticed that it was happening, its absence was louder than her actual speaking.
Unable to focus on working now, for reasons that eluded him, he sighed and tilted back into his chair. It was really coming down out there, he would barely see the sidewalk outside. And judging by the sky that he couldn’t see, night had well and truly fallen.
And then his eyes landed on Nora.
She was laying sprawled on his bed, one arm looped around his pillow and one hanging over the edge. Still fully clothed, red hair falling like a halo around her head, and completely and utterly asleep.
Well that explained the quiet.
Ren just stared at her for a moment, struck dumb for reasons he couldn’t quite articulate. Something about how he was just now realizing that he’d never seen her quite this peaceful before.
Still fully mobile off course, not even sleep could down Nora Valkyrie completely. Even as he watched she rolled over, pushed the pillow she was holding off the bed, and grumbled something about pancakes under her breath at now finding the pillow missing. Or maybe it was at the missing pancakes, who could say.
But she seemed calm. And exhausted, now that she was keeping still enough for him to really look at her. Dark circles painted the pale skin beneath her eyes, and her naturally frizzy hair stuck up more than even it normally did.
Ren stood up, took one step towards her, and hesitated.
Should he wake her up?
No. He couldn’t wake her up, especially not now that he saw how much she needed the sleep. And, he glanced out the window again, especially not now that the snow was making it dangerous nigh impossible for her to walk back to her own dorm. Even if she wasn’t exhausted Ren didn’t know if he’d be comfortable with her walking back alone in this weather.
And she looked so comfortable, so who was he to move her, really?
Sighing, Ren resolved to let her stay sleeping in his bed and also resolved to bunk on the floor. Or maybe he’d borrow Jaune’s room, as it looked like his roommate had given up on returning home.
After one final sip of tea, he pulled the drawstring to close the blinds and clicked off his lamp. Now the room was lit only by the cool light of the moon. Nora’s hair shone like fire.
He pulled his sweater off, determined that at least one of them would be going to sleep tonight in the correct attire, and folded it neatly. He climbed up onto the bed, intending to pull the blanket more firmly around Nora’s shoulders before leaving, but instead he yelped when she grabbed him and pulled him down.
Lacking the pillow she’d been holding, it looked like she’d made do with him.
Ren froze in her grasp, only remembering to breathe when he saw that she was in fact still asleep. Freckles like a million constellations layered on top of each other speckled their way across her nose and cheeks. Her eyelashes were long and a paler orange than her hair.
Without thinking, Ren wriggled one arm out of her tight grasp and brushed a stray lock of hair off her face.
He froze again, flushed as deep a pink as his eyes, his arm hovering in the air above them. Why the hell did he do that? What if she woke up, what would he do then? What if-
Nora mumbled something else under her breath, and Ren calmed down. He willed the flush out of his face and in froze. Good. Still asleep.
And he was still trapped, but there wasn’t much he could do about that now. Actually...
One arm was pinned to his side, but the other was now free, and having already decided to not wake her up, he instead pulled the blanket up the rest off the way to cover them both.
Shifting as much as he could, he got comfortable and resigned himself to a long night of probably no sleep.
Nora’s grip relaxed, and she nuzzled into his chest. Maybe she somehow knew that he wasn’t going anywhere. This warmed Ren more than the blanket was, and a soft smile spread on his face for a person who was too asleep to notice.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
The snow fell outside, blanketing the world in white flakes. Ren would normally have watched them drift past his window, but he was already fast asleep.
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Text
Free Music in a Capitalist Society - Iggy Pop's Keynote Speech Transcript
Hi, I'm Iggy Pop. I've held a steady job at BBC 6 Music now for almost a year, which is a long time in my game. I always hated radio and the jerks who pushed that shit music into my tender mind, with rare exceptions. When I was a boy, I used to sit for hours suffering through the entire US radio top 40 waiting for that one song by The Beatles and the other one by The Kinks. Had there been anything like John Peel available in my Midwestern town I would have been thrilled. So it's an honor to be here. I understand that. I appreciate it.
Some months ago when the idea of this talk came up I thought it might be okay to talk about free music in a Capitalist society. So that's what I'm gonna try to talk about. A society in which the Capitalist system dominates all the others, and seeks their destruction when they get in its way. Since then, the shit has really hit the fan on the subject, thanks to U2 and Apple. I worked half of my life for free. I didn't really think about that one way or the other, until the masters of the record industry kept complaining that I wasn't making them any money. To tell you the truth, when it comes to art, money is an unimportant detail. It just happens to be a huge one unimportant detail. But, a good LP is a being, it's not a product. It has a life-force, a personality, and a history, just like you and me. It can be your friend. Try explaining that to a weasel.
As I learned when I hit 30 +, and realized I was penniless, and almost unable to get my music released, music had become an industrial art and it was the people who excelled at the industry who got to make the art. I had to sell most of my future rights to keep making records to keep going. And now, thanks to digital advances, we have a very large industry, which is laughably maybe almost entirely pirate so nobody can collect shit. Well, it was to be expected. Everybody made a lot of money reselling all of recorded musical history in CD form back in the 90s, but now the cat is out of the bag and the new electronic devices which estrange people from their morals also make it easier to steal music than to pay for it. So there's gonna be a correction.
When I started The Stooges we were organized as a group of Utopian communists. All the money was held communally and we lived together while we shared the pursuit of a radical ideal. We shared all song writing, publishing and royalty credits equally – didn’t matter who wrote it - because we'd seen it on the back of a Doors album and thought it was cool, at least I did. Yeah. I thought songwriting was about the glory, I didn't know you'd get paid for it. We practiced a total immersion to try to forge a new approach which would be something of our own. Something of lasting value. Something that was going to be revealed and created and was not yet known.
We are now in the age of the schemer and the plan is always big, big, big, but it's the nature of the technology created in the service of the various schemes that the pond, while wide, is very shallow. Nobody cares about anything too deeply expect money. Running out of it, getting it. I never sincerely wanted to be rich. There is a, in the US, we have this guy “Do you sincerely wanna be rich? You can do it!” I didn’t sincerely want to be rich. I never sincerely felt like making anyone else that way. That made me a kind of a wild card in the 60's and 70's. I got into the game because it felt good to play and it felt like being free. I'm still hearing today about how my early works with The Stooges were flops. But they're still in print and they sell 45 years later, they sell. Okay, it took 20 or 25 years for the first royalties to roll in. So sue me.
Some of us who couldn't get anywhere for years kept beating our heads against the same wall to no avail. No one did that better than my friends The Ramones. They kept putting out album after album, frustrated that they weren't getting the hit. They even tried Phil Spector and his handgun. After the first couple of records, which made a big impact, they couldn't sustain the quality, but I noticed that every album had at least one great song and I thought, wow if these guys would just stop and give it a rest, society would for sure catch up to them. And that's what's happening now, but they're not around to enjoy it. I used to run into Johnny at a little rehearsal joint in New York and he'd be in a big room all alone with a Marshall stack just going "dum, dum, dum, dum, dum" all my himself. I asked him why and he said if he didn't practice doing that exactly the way he did it live he'd lose it. He was devoted and obsessive, so were Joey and Deedee. I like that. Johnny asked me one day - Iggy don't you hate Offspring and the way they're so popular with that crap they play. That should be us, they stole it from us. I told him look, some guys are born and raised to be the captain of the football team and some guys are just gonna be James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause and that's the way it is. Not everybody is meant to be big. Not everybody big is any good.
I only ever wanted the money because it was symbolic of love and the best thing I ever did was to make a lifetime commitment to continue playing music no matter what, which is what I resolved to do at the age of 18. If who you are is who you are that is really hard to steal, and it can lead you in all sorts of useful directions when the road ahead of you is blocked and it will get blocked. Now I'm older and I need all the dough I can get. So I too am concerned about losing those lovely royalties, now that they've finally arrived, in the maze of the Internet. But I'm also diversifying my income, because a stream will dry up. I'm not here to complain about that, I'm here to survive it.
When I was starting out as a full time musician I was walking down the street one bright afternoon in the seedier part of my Midwestern college town. I passed a dive bar and from it emerged a portly balding pallid middle aged musician in a white tux with a drink in one hand and a guitar in the other. He was blinking in the daylight. I had a strong intuition that this was a fate to be avoided. He seemed cut off from society and resigned to an oblivious obscurity. A bar fly. An accessory to booze. So how do you engage society as an artist and get them to pay you? Well, that's a matter of art. And endurance.
To start with, I cannot stress enough the importance of study. I was lucky to work in a discount record store in Ann Arbor Michigan as a stock boy where I was exposed to a little bit of every form of music imaginable on record at the time. I listened to it all whether I liked it or not. Be curious. And I played in my high school orchestra and I learned the joy of the warm organic instruments working together in the service of a classical piece. That sticks with you forever. If anyone out there can get a chance to put an instrument and some knowledge in some kids hand, you've done a great, great thing.
Comparative information is a key to freedom. I found other people who were smarter than me. To teach me. My first pro band was a blues band called The Prime Movers and the leader Michael Erlewine was a very bright hippy beatnik with a beautifully organized record collection in library form of The Blues. I'd never really heard the Blues. That part of our American heritage was kept off the major media. It was system up, people down. No Big Bill Broonzy on BBC for us. Boy I wish! No money in it. But everything I learned from Michael's beautiful library became the building blocks for anything good I've done since. Guys like this are priceless. If you find one, follow him, or her. Get the knowledge.
Once in secondary school in the 60's some class clowns dressed up the tallest guy in school in a trench coat, shades and a fedora and rushed him in to a school dance with great hubbub proclaiming "Del Shannon is here, Del Shannon is here." And until they got to the stage we all believed them, because nobody knew what Del Shannon looked like. He was just a voice on some great records. He had no social ID. By the early 60's that had really changed with the invasion of The Beatles and The Stones. This time TV was added to the mix and print media too. So you knew who they were, or so you thought anyway. I'm mentioning this because the best way to survive the death or change of an industry is to transcend its form. You're better off with an identity of your own or maybe a few of them. Something special.
It is my own personal view having lived through it that in America The Beatles replaced our assassinated president Kennedy, who represented our hopes for a certain kind of society. Didn’t get there. And The Stones replaced our assassinated folk music which our own leaders suppressed for cultural, racial, and financial reasons. It wasn't okay with everybody to be Kennedy or Muddy Waters, but those messages could be accepted if they came through white entertainers from the parent culture. That's why they’re still around.
Years later I had the impression that Apple, the corporation, had successfully co-opted the good feelings that the average American felt about the culture of the Beatles, by kind of stealing the name of their company so I bought a little stock. Good move. 1992. Woo! But look, everybody is subject to the rip off and has to change affiliations from time to time. Even Superman and Barbie were German before America tempted them to come over. Tough luck, Nietzche.
So who owns what anyway. Or as Bob Dylan said "The relationships of ownership." That’s gates of Eden. Nobody knows for long, especially these days. Apparently when BBC radio was founded, the record companies in England wouldn't allow the BBC to play their master recordings because they thought no one would buy them for their personal use if they could hear them free on the radio. So they were really confused about what they had. They didn’t get it. And how people feel about music. ‘Cause it’s a feel thing, and it resists logic. It’s not binary code. Later when CD's came in, the retail merchants in American all panicked because they were just too damn tiny and they thought that Americans want something that looks big, like a vinyl record. Well they had a point but their solution was a kind of Frankenstein called "The Long Box." It didn't fool anybody because half of it was empty. It had a little CD in the bottom. You’d open it up and it was empty. Now we have people in the Sahara using GPS to bury huge wads of Euros under sand dunes for safe keeping. But GPS was created for military spying from the high ground, not radical banking so any sophisticated system, along with the bounty it brings, is subject to primitive hijacking.
I wanna talk about a type of entrepreneur who functions as a kind of popular music patron of the arts. It’s good to know a patron. I call him El Padron because his relationship to the artist is essentially feudal, though benign. He or she (La Padrona) if you will, is someone, usually the product of successful, enlightened parents, who owns a record company, but has had benefit of a very good education, and can see a bigger picture than a petty business person. If they like an artists’ style and it suits them, they'll support you even if you’re not a big money spinner. I can tell you, some of these powerful guys get so bored that if you are fun in the office, you’ll go places. Their ancestors, the old time record crooks just made it their business to make great, great records, but also to rip off the artist 100%, copyright, publishing, royalty splits, agency fees, you name it. If anyone complained the line was "Pay you? We worship you!" God bless Bo Diddley.
By the time I came along, there was a new brand of Padron. People like this are still around and some can help you. One was named Jack Holzman. Jack had a beautiful label called Elektra Records, they put out Judy Collins, Tim Buckley, the Doors and Love. He'd started working in his family record store, like Brian Epstein. He dressed mod and he treated us very gently. He was a civilized man. He obviously loved the arts, but what he really wanted to do was build his business - and he did. He had his own concerns, and style, and you had to serve them, and of course when he sold out, as all indies do, you were stranded culturally in the hands of a cold clumsy conglomerate. But he put us in the right studios with the right producers and he tried to get us seen in the right venues and it really helped. This is a good example of the industry.
Another good guy I met is Sir Richard Branson. I ended up serving my full term at Virgin Records having been removed from every other label. And he created a superior culture there. People were happier and nicer than the weasels at some other places. The first time he tried to sign me it didn't work out, because I had my sights set on A&M, a company I thought would help make me respectable. After all they had Sting! Richard was secretly starting his own company at the time in the US and he phoned me in my tiny flat with no furniture. He said he'd give me a longer term deal with more dough than the other guys and he was very, very polite and soft spoken. But I had just smoked a joint that day and I couldn't make a decision. So I went with the other guys who soon got sick of me. Virgin picked me up again later on the rebound. And on the cheap. Damn. My own fault.
Another kind of indie legend who is slightly more contemporary is Long Gone John of the label Sympathy for the Record Industry. Good name. John is famous with some artists for his disinterest in paying royalties. He has a very interesting music themed folk art collection – its visible online - which includes my leather jacket. I wish he'd give it back. There are lots of indie people with a gift for organization who just kind of collect freaks and throw them up at the wall to see who sticks. You gotta watch 'em.
When you go a step down creatively from the Padrons who are actually entrepreneurs you get to the executives. You don't wanna know these guys. They usually came over from legal or accounting. They have protégés usually called A&R men to do their dirty work. You can become a favorite with them if your fame or image might reflect limelight on their career. They tend to have no personalities to speak of, which is their strength. Strangely they're never really thinking about the good of their parent company as much as old number one. Avoid them. If you’re an artist, they’ll make you sick or suicidal. The only good thing the conglomerate can do for you – and they’ve done it recently for me - is make you really, really ubiquitous. They do that well. But, when the company is your banker, then you are basically gonna be the Beverly Hill Billies. So it's best not to take their money. Especially when you’re young. These are very tough people, and they can hurt you.
So who are the good guys?! They asked me when they read this thing at BBC 6 Music. Well there are lots of them. If fact, today there are more than ever and they are just about all indies, but first I want to mention Peter Gabriel and WOMAD for everything they've done for what seems like forever to help the greatest musicians in the world, the so called world musicians to gain a foothold and make a living in the modern screwed up cash and carry world. Traditional music was never a for profit enterprise, all the best forms were developed as a kind of you’re job in the community. It was pretty good, it was “Yeah, I’m a musician, I’m gonna skip like doing the dishes or taking the trash out.” It's not surprising that all the greatest singers and players come from parts of the world where everybody is broke and the old ways are getting paved over. So it's crucial for everyone that these treasures not be lost. There are other people of means and intelligence who help others in this way like Philip Glass through Tibet House, David Burn with Luaka Bop, Damon Albarn through Honest John Records. Shout out to Hypnotic Brass Ensemble. Almost all the best music is coming out on indies today like XL Matador, Burger, Anti, Epitaph, Mute, Rough Trade, 4 A D, Sub Pop, etc. etc.
But now YouTube is trying to put the squeeze on these people because it's just easier for a power nerd to negotiate with a couple big labels who own the kind of music that people listen to when they're really not that into music, which of course is most people. So they've got the numbers. But the indies kind of have the guns. I've noticed that indies are showing strength at some of the established streaming services like Spotify and Rhapsody – people are choosing that music. And it's also great that some people are starting their own outlets, like Pledge Music, Band Camp or Drip. As the commercial trade swings more into general show biz the indies will be the only place to go for new talent, outside the Mickey Mouse Club, so I think they were right to band together and sign the Fair Digital Deals Declaration.
There are just so many ways to screw an artist that it's unbelievable. In the old vinyl days they would deduct 10% "breakage fees" for records supposedly broken in shipping, whether that happened or not, and now they have unattributed digital revenue, whatever the **** that means. It means money for some guy’s triple bypass. I actually think that what Thom Yorke has done with Bit Torrent is very good. I was gonna say here: “Sure the guy is a pirate at Bit Torrent” but I was warned legally, so I’ll say: “Sure the guy a Bit Torrent is a pirate’s friend” But all pirates want to go legit, just like I wanted to be respectable. It’s normal. After a while people feel like you’re a crook, it’s too hard to do business. So it’s good in this case that Thom Yorke is encouraging a positive change. The music is good. It’s being offered at a low price direct to people who care.
I want to try to define what I am talking about when I say free. For me in the arts or in the media, there are two kinds of free. One kind of free is when the process is something that people just feel for you. You feel a sense of possibility. You feel a lack of constraint. This leads to powerful, energetic, sometimes kind of loony situations.
Vice Media is an interesting case of this because they started as a free handout, using public funds, and they had open, free-wheeling minds. Originally a free handout was called Voice and these kids were like “Just get rid of the old! I don’t wanna be Vice, yeah!” Okay. By taking an immersive approach with no particular preconceptions to their reporting, they've become a huge success, also through corporate advertising, at attracting big, big money investment hundreds of millions of dollars now pumped into Fox Media and a couple of others bigger than that in the US. And they get it because they attract lots of little boy eyeballs. So they brought us Dennis Rodman in North Korea. And it’s kind of a travesty, but it’s kind of spunky. It's interesting that capital investment, for all its posturing, never really leads, it always follows. They follow the action. So if it's money you're after, be the yourself in a consistent way and you might get it. You’ll at least end up getting what you are worth and feel better. Just follow your nose.
The second kind of freedom to me that is important in the media is the idea of giving freely. When you feel or sense that someone that someone is giving you something not out of profit, but out of self-respect, Christian charity, whatever it is. That has a very powerful energy. The Guardian, in my understanding, was founded by an endowment by a successful man with a social conscience who wanted to help create a voice for what I would call the little guy. So they have a kind of moral mission or imperative. This has given them the latitude to try to be interesting, thoughtful, helpful. And they bring Edward Snowden to the world stage. Something that is not pleasant for a lot of people to hear about, but we need to know.
These two approaches couldn't be more different. To justify their new mega bucks Vice will have to expand and expand in capital terms. Presumably they'll have to titillate a dumb, but energetic audience. Of course all capitalist expansions are subject to the big bang – balloon, bust, poof, and you’re gone. As for the Guardian I would imagine that the task involves gaining the trust and support of a more discerning, less definable reader, without spending the principal. There is usually an antipathy between cultural poles, but these two actually have a lot in common in terms of the energy and nuisance to power that they are willing to generate. I wish red and blue could come together somehow.
Sometimes I'd rather read than listen to music. One of my favourite odd books is Bootleg: The Secret History of the Other Recording Industry by Clinton Heylin. I bought the book in the 90's because a couple of my bootlegs were mentioned. I loved my bootlegs. They did a lot for me. I never really thought about the dough much. I liked the titles, like Suck on This, Stow Away DOA or Metalic KO. The packaging was always way more creative and edgy than most of my official stuff. So I just liked being seen and heard, like anybody else. These bootleggers were creative. Here are two quotes from the dust jacket by veteran industry stalwarts on the subject of bootlegs in 1994.
"Bootleg is the thoroughly researched and highly entertaining tale of those colorful brigands, hapless amateurs, and true believers who have done wonders for my record collection. Rock and roll doesn't get more underground than this." – that was David Fricke, the music editor of Rolling Stone "I think that bootlegs keep the flame of the music alive by keeping it out of not only the industry's conception of the artist, but also the artist's conception of the artist." – that was Lenny Kaye from the Patti Smith group, musician, critic and my friend.
Wow!! Sounds heroic and vital!
I wonder what these guys feel about all of this now, because things have changed, haven't they? We are now talking about Megaupload, Kim Dot Com, big money, political power, and varying definitions of theft that are legally way over my head. But I know a con man when I see one. I want to include a rant from an early bootlegger in this discussion because it's so passionate and I just think it's funny.
This is Lou Cohan "If anybody thinks that if I have purchased every single Rolling Stones album in existence, and I have bought all the Rolling Stones albums that have been released in England, France, Japan, Italy, and Brazil that if I have an extra $100 in my pocket instead of buying a Rolling Stones bootleg I am going to buy a John Denver album or a Sinead O'Conner album, they are retarded."
So the guy is trying to say don't try to force me. And don't steal my choice. And the people who don't want the free U2 download are trying to say, don't try to force me. And they've got a point. Part of the process when you buy something from an artist. It’s a kind of anointing, you are giving people love. It’s your choice to give or withhold. You are giving a lot of yourself, besides the money. But in this particular case, without the convention, maybe some people felt like they were robbed of that chance and they have a point. It’s not the only point. These are not bad guys. But now, everybody's a bootlegger, but not as cute, and there are people out there just stealing the stuff and saying don't try to force me to pay. And that act of thieving will become a habit and that’s bad for everything. So we are exchanging the corporate rip off for the public one. Aided by power nerds. Kind of computer Putins. They just wanna get rich and powerful. And now the biggest bands are charging insane ticket prices or giving away music before it can flop, in an effort to stay huge. And there's something in this huge thing that kind of sucks.
Which brings us to Punk. The most punk thing I ever saw in my life was Malcolm McLaren's cardboard box full of dirty old winkle pinkers. It was the first thing I saw walking in the door of Let It Rock in 1972 which was his shop at Worlds End on the Kings Road. It was a huge ugly cardboard bin full of mismatched unpolished dried out winkle pickers without laces at some crazy price like maybe five pounds each. Another 200 yards up the street was Granny Takes a Trip, where they sold proper Rockstar clothes like scarves, velvet jackets, and snake skin platform boy boots. Malcolm's obviously worthless box of shit was like a fire bomb against the status quo because it was saying that these violent shoes have the right idea and they are worth more than your fashion, which serves a false value. This is right out of the French enlightenment.
So is the thieving that big a deal? Ethically, yes, and it destroys people because it's a bad road you take. But I don't think that's the biggest problem for the music biz. I think people are just a little bit bored, and more than a little bit broke. No money. Especially simple working people who have been totally left out, screwed and abandoned. If I had to depend on what I actually get from sales I’d be tending bars between sets. I mean honestly it’s become a patronage system. There’s a lot of corps involved and I don’t fault any of them but it’s not as much fun as playing at the Music Machine in Camden Town in 1977. There is a general atmosphere of resentment, pressure, kind of strange perpetual war, dripping on all the time. And I think that prosecuting some college kid because she shared a file is a lot like sending somebody to Australia 200 years ago for poaching his lordship's rabbit. That's how it must seem to poor people who just want to watch a crappy movie for free after they’ve been working themselves to death all day at Tesco or whatever, you know.
If I wanna make music, at this point in my life I'd rather do what I want, and do it for free, which I do, or cheap, if I can afford to. I can. And fund through alternative means, like a film budget, or a fashion website, both of which I've done. Those seem to be turning out better for me than the official rock n roll company albums I struggle through. Sorry. If I wanna make money, well how about selling car insurance? At least I'm honest. It's an ad and that's all it is. Every free media platform I've ever known has been a front for advertising or propaganda or both. And it always colors the content. In other words, you hear crap on the commercial radio. The licensing of music by films, corps, and TV has become a flood, because these people know they're not a hell of a lot of fun so they throw in some music that is. I'm all for that, because that's the way the door opened for me. I got heard on tv before radio would take a chance. But then I was ok. Good. And others too. I notice there are a lot of people, younger and younger, getting their exposure that way. But it's a personal choice. I think it’s an aesthetic one, not an ethical one.
Now with the Internet people can choose to hear stuff and investigate it in their own way. If they want to see me jump around the Manchester Apollo with a horse tail instead of trying to be a proper Rockstar, they can look. Good. Personally I don't worry too much about how much I get paid for any given thing, because I never expected much in the first place and the whole industry has become bloated in its expectations. Look, Howling Wolf would work for a sandwich. This whole thing started in Honky Tonk bars. It's more important to do something important or just make people feel something and then just trust in God. If you're an entertainer your God is the public. They'll take care of you somehow. I want them to hear my music any old which way. Period. There is an unseen hand that turns the pages of existence in ways no one can predict. But while you’re waiting for God to show up and try to find a good entertainment lawyer.
It's good to remember that this is a dream job, whether you're performing or working in broadcasting, or writing or the biz. So dream. Dream. Be generous, don’t be stingy. Please. I can't help but note that it always seems to be the pursuit of the money that coincides with the great art, but not its arrival. It's just kind of a death agent. It kills everything that fails to reflect its own image, so your home turns into money, your friends turn into money, and your music turns into money. No fun, binary code – zero one, zero one - no risk, no nothing. What you gotta do you gotta do, life's a hurly-burly, so I would say try hard to diversify your skills and interests. Stay away from drugs and talent judges. Get organized. Big or little, that helps a lot.
I'd like you to do better than I did. Keep your dreams out of the stinky business, or you'll go crazy, and the money won't help you. Be careful to maintain a spiritual EXIT. Don't live by this game because it's not worth dying for. Hang onto your hopes. You know what they are. They’re private. Because that's who you really are and if you can hang around long enough you should get paid. I hope it makes you happy. It's the ending that counts, and the best things in life really are free.
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wolfie-posts · 5 years
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Can you do a pro hero!bakugou x fem reader where she’s his secretary and always leaves him little notes on his desk that cheer him up, but one day he doesn’t get one and that’s because the reader is sick at home? You can end it however you like just make it fluffy please! Thank you so much!!!
Pro Hero!Bakugou x Secretary!Reader
Author: @wolfie-posts
Warnings: none really just a lot of fluff
Chapter length: 4,031 words
A/N: This is my very first request that I received and I am literally so in love with the scenario. I got so hyped for this request that I just couldn’t stop to write. The result is a 4k word scenario. I really hope it meets your expectations, I had a lot of fun writing this. Also, a huge thanks to my beta readers who are literally the best, love you guys! That was everything I wanted to say. Please, enjoy reading my lovelies! 
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Life as a pro-hero is hard, nobody talks about the bad things that this job brings along. When you watch the news you always see the pro-heroes in their amazing suits jumping straight towards the danger, putting their lives on the line for the well being of the citizens without even thinking twice about it. Their jobs are admirable but dangerous, always saving the day with a big smile, a proud grin or a simply smirk on their face and if that isn’t enough, they even give interviews right after they captured the villains. It doesn’t matter how beat up they are afterward, they still make time for their small fans.
Nobody really talks about the stuff that happens behind closed doors but that is exactly what you were getting paid for. Your job is one of the most important ones in this whole pro-hero domain because you are the secretary of one of the greatest heroes at the moment. You were Ground Zero’s own personal “hero” with the superpower to organize his whole life and career.
Answering calls, taking messages, arranging appointments were all part of your job and let’s be honest, Ground Zero wasn’t the easiest boss to have. Your work phone was never really silent, reporters and tv companies were calling every day to get a special statement from one of the best heroes or inviting him to talk-shows or other tv specials. At some point, the management of the tv-show “The Bachelor” even called to ask if Ground Zero would be interested in finding the love of his life while being filmed 24/7, that was actually one of the most fun phone conversations you ever had.
Normally you had to punch yourself through a lot of annoying, ignorant and dense representatives from companies, crazy admirers, reporters, and interviewers, so when you took the call from “The Bachelor” production you really had to force yourself to stay serious. You had to admit, Bakugou, as the bachelor would be some quality content to laugh about, just imagining him in a suit surrounded by a horde of horny women, made you break your professionalism and snort.
Apart from those tasks you also filled reports, organized Ground Zero’s meetings, manage the database, liaised with important clients, coordinated the public life of your boss and if that wasn’t enough, you also looked out for Ground Zero’s health by treating some of his wounds, forcing him to go to your companies personal “Recovery Girl”, bringing him food, because let’s be honest otherwise he probably would have already starved to death. You also bring him coffee every morning and the most important thing you cheered him up.
Cheering your boss up was one of your favorite things to do on the job and one of the easiest things too because all it took was a simple post-it note on his desk.
You didn’t really talk much with your boss, because he literally is always busy. If he isn’t in the training room, he was saving the city, which made your work a lot harder. Most of the time you were updating him on the way from one place to another. For example, you always reviewed the appointments for the day right after Ground Zero’s morning workout when he was heading from the training room to the changing room.
Being a hero was an all-day and all-night job, so he didn’t really spend much time in his office. When you first started to work for your boss you were convinced that he even slept in his hero costume.
The result of all those briefings was an increase in your stamina, which you didn’t complain about except for, in those briefings, you didn’t really talk much, which is kinda unusual for your job. That was until the day you decided to write him his first post-it note.
Back in high school, you started to make post-it notes to remind yourself about important stuff because you tended to forget things if you didn’t write them down. Now it kinda became your way of communicating with your boss.
It all started really simple, one day you just put an apple on his desk with the note “an apple a day keeps Recovery Girl away”.
Flashback
You were a nervous wreck, why did you even decide to write that note? Why did you want to cheer him up that badly? ‘Maybe because you wanted to see him smile for a change?’ your inner voice told you, which made you shake your head violently in response. You had been debating with yourself for the last 2 hours. “I shouldn’t have done this,” you mumbled, thinking about taking the apple away again before he has a chance to see it.
'It’s just an apple, calm down (y/n)! It’s not like you are proposing or anything.’ you tried to calm yourself down without any luck. You had been a nervous wreck since you placed that apple on Ground Zero’s desk, always glancing towards the elevator to see if he was coming to his office, shuffling around in your chair and bopping your knee to the annoyance of some of your coworkers.
It finally stopped, the moment the elevator doors opened and revealed your boss with a few new bruises and scratches, but the moment you saw your boss step out of the elevator a wave of terrible overthinking and fear washed over you.
'What if he gets mad?’ you thought, rubbing your sweaty hands over your pants. All you wanted was to see Ground Zero smile for a change, so him getting pissed at your silly note would be the exact opposite of the goal, but there was no going back now.
As Ground Zero walked past your desk, you nearly dropped your pen in fear of what was going to happen in the next 2 to 3 minutes. Will you lose or job? Will you get an apple thrown into your face? Or just a sarcastic comment which will ruin your whole career? While overthinking the situation into oblivion you didn’t even notice that your boss had been talking to you.
“(y/n)!” he said with a rough voice, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Yes!” you said a little bit panicked while sitting up even straighter. You could see a frown form on your boss’s forehead as he raised an eyebrow at your unusual behavior. You gulped hard as you withstood his stare, feeling like his crimson eyes could see straight into your soul and read what was on your mind.
“Did anything important pop up?” he asked in a way calmer voice after seeing your reaction to his previous approach. Bakugou knew that everyone had a lot of respect for him and everyone was acting kinda scared whenever he was in a bad mood or right after he had captured a villain. Everybody but you. You just looked at him as if he was just another person and you didn’t really flinch or look away when things were getting a little ugly. You saw him as your boss and you saw him as an authority but not as some kind of god you needed to fear and worship.
That made your behavior now just seem even weirder to him. It was so out of place but he hadn’t done anything to scare you or make you nervous, he hasn’t even seen you all day.
’Maybe something had happened between you and another employee or something involving your private life.’ Bakugou thought to himself, trying to shove that uncomfortable feeling in his guts away. 'I’m probably just reading too much into it’ but why did he even care? You were just another employee, right?
“Nope, nothing new has come up!” you said after looking over your laptop and calendar. It seemed like some of the tension you were feeling was lifted from you, after Bakugou had asked you something about work. It was like turning a switch inside of your brain, immediately you just powered up your professionalism again and dug back into work. You had even given Bakugou your typical smile after confirming that he could actually take a break right now.
You watched your boss sigh in relief as he turned to walk into his office and just for a moment you had forgotten about your note. That was until your boss’s hand reached for the door handle and your nervousness got the better of you again making you shot up from your desk.
“Ground Zero!” you yelled, which not only surprised your boss but also yourself. You could feel your ears and cheeks begin to heat up as your boss paused in his step and turned back to look at you.
“Yes?” he simply asked with a raised eyebrow.
How could you get yourself out of this situation? Should you play the “I am not feeling good” card and just leave to die in shame at home? How could you even stop your boss from seeing that note? You ran over all the different excuses but none of them would work without having to pay the consequences afterward. So what now? You had already gained the attention of your boss, which means that you had to say something without sounding like an idiot.
“Good job today” you blurted. It was the first thing that came into your mind that didn’t sound totally stupid, what you didn’t consider was the blush spreading across your face as you realized what you had just said.
You have never really complimented your boss for winning a fight against a villain, it was a normal daily routine for him and he already gets all the praise from his fans, so why should you compliment him too? He knew that he was good at his job and it wasn’t like those villains were a challenge for him, so why should you pour some more gasoline into the fire and push his ego even more?
The moment you had said those words, you wished you could have taken them back. It was so embarrassing, your face was probably already tomato red and the fact that your boss had the widest grin ever on his face didn’t really help, but for Bakugou that wasn’t even enough torture. Without a word he just turned back around and entered into his office, knowing damn well that this action was like pouring salt into an open wound.
“What have I done?” you mumbled to yourself while dropping your head into your hands. The embarrassment was getting so overwhelming that you had to get up and walk it off for a bit. You escaped into the office kitchen to get some water, which gave you a little relief but it didn’t change the fact that you wanted to disappear forever.
After cooling down for a bit you finally returned to your desk, forcing yourself to just focus on work and to forget about what happened. At least that was what you wanted to do. Before you could even dig into your paperwork, your boss came out of his office again with an apple in his hand. You stared in horror as he took a huge bite from it, a pleasant smile spreading over his face.
“I am heading out again. Call me if something important comes up,” he said casually, not breaking the eye-contact, but all you could do was pick up your jaw that had dramatically dropped to the floor and nod in silence.
After getting your confirmation Bakugou gave you another mischievous smile and headed for the elevator. There was no way in hell you wouldn’t get bullied over this situation from your coworkers.
“Oh and (y/n)? Thanks for the apple,” your boss said in a loud and amused tone, making you snap your head towards him, only to see his big grin right before the elevator doors closed, not even giving you the time to react at all.
Who would have thought that one apple with a note could change your whole work atmosphere just like that?
Flashback end
From that day on, Ground Zero received your post-it notes every single day, some of them were informative others were silly with the goal to make him smile.
After the first few sticky notes, it didn’t take long for the two of you to call each other by your normal name, which wasn’t any different for Bakugou because he had always called you by your first name. On the other side, you were the only employee to ever call Ground Zero by his non-hero name, which caused quite the tumult in your company and making you the topic of the daily gossip for at least two weeks.
The notes became part of a routine that Bakugou looked forward to every single day, it didn’t matter how bad his mood was, a single note from you could make him forget about all the shit that happened during the day.
He normally wouldn’t even smile at work, his employees needed to see him focused and serious, so they wouldn’t have an excuse to slack on their job but whenever he read your notes, he just couldn’t control his facial features. It even went so far to the point that he actually laughed out loud in his office. It was that one time when he had read the note you wrote right after your phone conversation with “The Bachelor” production company.
“I can’t take it anymore! You need to get a life and I need a vacation! So I decided to sign you up for the reality dating show ‘The Bachelor’ ;) have fun” was written on the note, he knew you would have never done anything that stupid but still, you got him good with that one.
He didn’t even have a sarcastic response to that note, because he damn well knew that his life only consisted of the job as a pro-hero, but he loved his job and even though it wasn’t always easy, he wouldn’t have it any other way, because deep down he knew that he had you to pick him up.
——
Today had been an awful day for Bakugou, a huge villain attack had occupied his whole morning, not even giving him the time for his morning coffee and to his misery, one of the villains had also copy quirk. That clearly was already enough to piss him off but it didn’t stop there, the other villains had pretty strong quirks too, which made the fight a lot more annoying.
After a chase throughout the whole city, some building damage and some pretty terrible ass-kicking, Bakugou and some of the others had finally managed to capture every member of the group of villains.
This fight took everything out of Bakugou, he was exhausted. His whole week had been filled with sleepless nights due to villain attacks and Bakugou’s lack of sleep wasn’t just showing in his facial features, no! It was also showing in his fighting, his impressive reflexes were kinda normal and he could feel that his strength wasn’t at 100 percent.
All he wanted to do was go home and get a good night’s rest, but that isn’t how this job works. The villains hadn’t even been loaded into the prison transport when the first reporters decided to hold cameras and microphones into Bakugou’s face.
“Ground Zero, how do you feel about the organized crime and the group behind it?”
“How come we never see you out with a woman or your pro-hero friends from U.A.?”
“Is your power getting weaker or are the villains getting stronger and smarter?”
“How do you feel after reading this month’s pro hero rankings?”
All those questions turned into an annoying buzzing sound in Bakugou’s ears. His blood was boiling, how could they ask him that kind of crap? 'Getting weaker? Pff the villains could only dream about that!’ he thought to himself.
Normally he would go to the crowd of bystanders and take some pictures with his fans but right now he just needed to get out of there before he exploded. You had always scolded him for being incapable of socializing and after getting scolded every single time he refused an interview or making a kid cry, you finally convinced him to follow your publicity plan.
'Nope, not today!’ he thought, walking away from the crowd.
"No comment” was all Bakugou said.
He just couldn’t handle it today, not in this condition, so he simply catapulted himself into the air and blasted away through the air.
'She is gonna be so pissed’, a small voice in his head told him after arriving at his company. Bakugou knew exactly how you would react, you would scold him for a few minutes while tending to his wounds, followed by giving him his coffee, some lunch with a second scolding as dessert for not taking better care of himself and telling him that he can’t just live on coffee.
Bakugou had already mentally prepared himself for your scolding, but when the elevator doors finally opened, he wasn’t greeted with your pissed off face at your desk. It was a rather unusual sight, which made him wonder about your whereabouts, but he simply pushed the thought away with a 'maybe she’s busy’.
Fully expecting to find a sarcastic note on his desk he walked into his office, only to find a clean and empty desk waiting for him.
“What the fuck?” he mumbled as he searched his office for your daily post-it note without any luck. Was he blind or did you forget to make a note? No, you would never forget to make him a sticky note, that wasn’t like you at all and you didn’t have a day off so where was his note?
His mood was dropping even further after his unsuccessful search for your note, he really needed that little post-it note to cheer him up after a morning like that.
He didn’t even care how shocked his other employees were when he showed up to their workspace, which was on a different floor.
“Has anyone seen (y/n) (l/n)?” he asked with a stern voice causing the whole room to go deadly silent.
“S-She called in sick today,” a small woman said in the back of the room. All eyes had been on Bakugou, which meant that everybody had seen his utter surprise when that woman told him you were sick. You were never sick, in those two years you had worked for him you had never called in sick. Bakugou was convinced that you couldn’t even get sick, he always thought you had a quirk which made you super healthy or something but he apparently was proven wrong about that.
“I am taking the rest of the day off. Don’t call me, even if the whole city goes up in flames, we have enough other heroes who can take over. Call Deku or someone else but don’t you dare try to reach me!” Bakugou threatened, not bothering to see the terrified faces of his employees, as he was already on his way out. He knew exactly what he was going to do for the rest of this day and no villain could stop him from doing so.
A sudden knock on your pulled you out of your feverish dreams. 'Who the hell would have the indecency to bother you on your sick day?’ you thought to yourself as you wrapped the blankets around you and shuffled towards your door.
As you opened the door you couldn’t believe your eyes, was this another fever dream? You stared in pure shock at the person who was standing at your doorstep. Some wires in your head just snapped and before you even knew what you were doing you had slammed the door shut into your boss’s face.
“If you don’t open up that door within the next 10 seconds, I will blast it open!” you could hear him growl from the other side of the door.
What the hell was he doing here? You looked like a freaking zombie, there was no way in hell you were opening that door again, but your thoughts got interrupted by Bakugou’s pissed off counting.
“5.. 4.. goddammit (y/n) just open the fucking door, I brought you soup!”
He did what now? Not even a seconds after Bakugou had spoken out the word soup the door to your apartment swung open. It wasn’t a dream, your subconsciousness could never produce the picture you were seeing in front of you. A terribly beat up Bakugou was holding up a bag with some steam coming off of it. He couldn’t even dare to look into your eyes as you were staring in disbelief at his face, which made him blush even harder.
“Are you gonna invite me inside or not?” he grumbled, making you snap out of your trance. You simply gestured him inside as you held the door open even wider, watching his every step as he helped himself into your kitchen. 
You followed him silently, observing his every move as you tried to figure out if this was really happening right now and not just a dream or a bad joke, but your doubt was immediately forgotten the moment you smelled what Bakugou had brought. 
Your mouth started to water and you couldn’t hold back the growl your stomach made, causing Bakugou to raise an eyebrow at you. You hadn’t eaten all day due to your sick stomach but that soup smelled so good even your sick stomach couldn’t resist. You watched how your boss moved through your kitchen effortlessly and not even a minute later a steaming hot bowl was placed in front of you.
“This is sooo good!” you mumbled to yourself, shoving the soup down like you were drinking shots at a bar.
“Thanks,” Bakugou said in a pleased but still casual voice, which made you choke on your soup.
“Don’t tell me… you actually made that soup yourself?!” you managed to choke out underneath your coughs. 
'Bakugou could have never made a soup like that, he barely even feeds himself so there was just no way in hell he could make something this delicious.’ you thought to yourself while gulping down your water glass but when your eyes met his crimson ones you knew he wasn’t kidding.
“Yes I made that soup myself! You know, I can take perfectly good care of myself and I don’t really need you to bring me lunch every day,” he said blankly. Nobody in the world would believe you when you would tell them that Ground Zero was an outstanding cook, you didn’t even believe it yourself if you weren’t eating the soup yourself at the moment.
“You wouldn’t even survive a whole day without me” you shot back at him with a challenging stare. You were feeling so much better already, not only because of the amazing soup but the company was helping too.
“Pff I could survive at least a week without you!” he replied with a snort, rolling his captivating crimson eyes at you, but you were ready to end this man’s whole career right then and there.
“Yeah? What is your social security number?” you fired right back at him with an award-winning smirk. You knew you had won this fight before you could even see Bakugou’s facial expression drop in surrender.
“That is what I thought! You would be screwed without me,” you laughed out loud after seeing his sour face, but you couldn’t help yourself this whole situation was just too crazy. Never in your dreams would you have imagined that your boss would nurture you back to health with homemade soup after you called in sick for the day, but here you were sitting in front of your boss having the best time of your life, completely forgetting about your headache and sick stomach. You were laughing with all your heart at this point, squinting your eyes and clutching your stomach, nearly missing the small smile that had crept its way onto his lips as he said: “I really do need you.”
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zwiezraczek · 4 years
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Hi, can I ask you to write something with Four from 6 underground with number 5 and 9 where the target is a young lady so he should flirt with her but he fails so the reader take his place. Then when the mission is over the reader teach him how to flirt, because she has a crush on him, and he becomes super shy because he feels the same. Forgive me if it's not clear but English isn't my first language and if you have any problem to understand don't you worry, I'm not the best at explaining 😅💕
Who's The Flirt? [Blurb]
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Note: Thanks for the blurb request love! Don't worry, English isn't my first language neither BUT in top of that I'm bad at understanding things in general haha ~ Hope you'll like the blurb! 💕
~~~~
You were laughing with the whole team after seeing Four in action today. It was different, it wasn't his usual self out there, it was a scared and goofy man trying to get into his target's head, without any success really. One believed in his beautiful pearly-green eyes, but he underestimated his inability to flirt properly – an inability that probably made you fall for him a bit, a little bit too much. Nonetheless, you were laughing in the car – with Two even smirking – as he came back, pouting and sat at the back of the car, next to you and crossed his arms.
“Don't say a fucking word,” he warned all of you but Three didn't seem to take this threat too seriously.
“How did you call the lady again,” he asked, covering his mouth to prevent himself from bursting into laughter again.
“A beautiful flower from the desert he called her,” One added and he didn't bother to hide his high pitched laugh as Four gave him a death glare that looked like a kitten's one. “You're a genius Four, you're a genius.”
“That's not fucking funny you pricks! Not you Eight,” he said as he turned around towards you and you had a huge smile on your face, puffing out from the laughter you tried to contain. “Don't tell me it was ridiculous.”
“It wasn't,” you whispered to not laugh.
“She's lying,” Two cut you off, “you were looking desperate. It was quite entertaining, I liked it. One, can Four go outside again? I didn't have so much fun since forever.”
“No no,” One finally said with a straight face now, “we're sending Eight, we need these information as soon as possible and we need to have someone on this case from today.”
“Understood,” you replied as you unfastened your seatbelt and turned around towards Four, “watch and learn now.” You winked. He began to protest.
“But the target's a girl!”
“She may be bi,” you said as you were putting on a microphone and One simply nodded.
“Besides, we decided that you were the two on this case, so it's her turn now.”
“You'll see that I'm quite flirt,” you bragged about your skills.
Before Four could say anything, you were already out and walking towards your target. You had put on an angelic smile before bumping directly into her. You had to make it look as if both of you were in a romantic comedy, you made some of your belongings fall on the ground as you began to excuse yourself endlessly and she said that it wasn't a big deal really. Then, you brushed your hand against hers and looked up, and when she saw you you could notice her sparkling eyes as you somehow felt intimidated. That woman was really pretty and badass. You apologized again and again, and she just smiled before giving you your belongings back before asking for your name. Bingo. And you could almost hear Four complaining about what had happened.
~~~~
The idea was good, really good and One was proud to present to you the newest product of his imagination: the flirting lessons by you. Given to Four. On paper, everything was great. You only had to teach him how to flirt and how to not screw up missions – but he did it against his own will, because secretly he wanted to see more of a clumsy Four trying to flirt with women again. Simple. Maybe not so simple when you were struggling to not fall in love with him for the past year.
Since you had joined the Ghosts, you fought against your own feelings in his presence. The worst part was that you became pretty close friends during this time, as One paired you up because of your complementary talents – his parkouring and your picking locks ability – and your duo worked really well. He was the one looking for escapes always, while you were the one opening and closing doors so nobody would find you, and someone was always there with a gun ready to pull the trigger one the enemies. And you shared laughs together during the days off, when you were practicing one next to the other, in the middle of the desert under the burning sun and during the chilly nights. You shared stories, you drank beer from time to time and you even ate lunch together. And everytime somebody mentioned” the fact that you might be in love, both of you laughed it off, but you with a slight blush on your face, because you wished he felt the same as you did.
But right there, you had to actually flirt with him, for sport, to teach him how he could flirt himself. If it wasn't for the mission, it would be pretty stupid. He had something naturally appealing that you couldn't define, but as soon as he wanted to flirt he was unable to – and that was hilarious to watch. But now, you were about to teach him how to flirt, seriously flirt.
“Since when you're listening to One,” he asked you as he sat next to you in your usual training place.
“Since the man owns our lives, and practically feeds us and all of this you know, no big deal.”
“My flirting wasn't that bad,” he complained and you gave him an skeptical look.
“This woman was so easy to flirt with I only had to look her in the eyes so she would ask for my name and my number,” you retorted.
“Maybe because you have beautiful eyes,” he said and before you could say anything he continued, “whatever. How do we start all of this?”
“Go on, and show me how you flirt,” you said and looked into his beautiful eyes.
“Wow, what a roleplay,” he sarcastically said and you elbowed him.
“Okay, imagine we're at a party and I'm your target, and I'm not too difficult to flirt with okay?” He nodded and you looked away and started vibing to the music in your head.
“Excuse-me,” he said as he put his hand on your shoulder and you turned around. And even like this, he looked purely beautiful. “Well I was thinking... I'd like to kiss you... Joking... Unless?”
Strange feelings filled your brain. The shivers on your arms showed how effective It was on you, but the smirk on your face wasn't impressed, definitely. But there was something adorable in his way of flirting, and you knew that it could work on some people – and it definitely worked on you. But against the odds, you began to laugh and looked down as he sighed.
“That was excellent,” you managed to say through your laugh.
“Why are you doing this to me, huh,” he asked almost defeated.
“Look,” you said as you gathered all of your emotions together in order to look him in the eyes. “Four I... I think there might be something between us, don't you think,” you asked him before running your hands in your hair. He gulped. You put your hand on his while blushing from what you just said.
“I... I guess...”
“So you wouldn't mind if,” you continued, putting your hand on his cheek and coming a bit closer to him. You could feel your heart race inside your chest, almost pounding its way out as you were speaking to him. You began to shiver a bit. “If... I'd kiss you?”
“Wow... Impressive,” he said and you could feel his cheek becoming warmer by the seconds. “No doubt why you're better at that than me.”
You pulled away, with a little smile and cheeks burning red before gesturing to him to go on, and to do the same, or at least to try. He nodded and his face became serious for a long moment, he closed his eyes and you could admire his eyelashes and his peaceful face before he opened his eyes to catch you looking at him. He was already winning this game.
“Hem... Eight, I know that we just met, and that I shouldn't ask you this but...”
“But,” you asked and fluttered your eyelashes as he saw that he was tense.
“I think I want to know you a little more,” he continued as he came a bit closer to you, putting his hand on yours, shyly. “Would you be up for a date, or something like that?”
All of this was too much for you to handle. And without any hesitation, without any warning and any thought, you approached your face to his, put a hand on his cheek and kissed him, quickly. You still were in awe for acting like a teenager, a silly teenager almost confessing to their crush, but kissing them anyway. And you could see the confusion on his face as you pulled away, and then you knew you screwed up.
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have,” you said as you began to get up but he caught your hand.
“No, don't be sorry,” he said and you looked at him, confused this time. “It took me a flirting lesson to get you to kiss me, I'm glad it worked.”
“You mean that...”
“Yeah, I always wanted to kiss you.”
You smiled. Maybe this flirting lesson wasn't a bad idea after all.
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midnighthyuck · 4 years
Text
Beautiful | jungwoo!au
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summary: you were working on a photoshoot with your university team, in the meanwhile, jungwoo has to dress up as a girl to help his sister. 
words: 2.600 (sorry bout that)
pairing: you & jungwoo
a/n: pretty sweet. also, sorry about any mistakes, english is not my native language. it’s not that good idk? but it would be a shame deleting it all without giving a try. promise next time will be better.
requests are open!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Two hours. That was the amount of time you had already spent trying to convince your senior that purple lights wouldn’t look as good as blue ones. The scenario was all set up but the lights still annoyed you. He had been working with photoshoots before you, period. He had plenty of works highly well recognized by all teachers in photography faculty, period. Yet, purple didn’t feel right.  
Tired of hearing your annoying complains he decided to give it a try. It ended up with you being congratulated by your ‘unceasing persistence’ and happy with the finally blue studio. He was good, but you also were. Being on top of the class was the main reason you were the only sophomore in the wise room.  
Once done with the lighting discussion you decided to take a look on the models. It was not your first time on a shooting like that so you had plenty knowledge of how the girls get stressed and sensitive right before the show. Most of them you’d never seen before and was pretty much sure you wouldn’t be seeing again anytime soon, still you made sure to bring them some fruits and cool water. 
‘’You all look stunning! Definitely the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen’’ you genuinely smiled at them. That was your job, making them feel at ease, instead of freaking them out like Doyoung would be doing in a few minutes. 
He wasn’t a bad guy, but the amount of overwork he had been dealing with in the past few months may have helped him to become this ‘fast mood shifting’ weapon. Or you might just think it because you are two opposites. Doyoung doesn’t know how to behave when it comes about girls. Also don’t you when it comes about boys. 
“There’s one missing’’ Ten made himself noticeable, handing you the paperwork. 
“It’s fine, we still got a few minutes.’’ you tried to stay calm, although you knew Doyoung would be shouting at you once the shoot started and one of his ‘girls’ was missing. ‘’I’ll go grab some coffee for us. Make sure Doyoung doesn’t freak out.’’  
“I will try.’’ It’s all you get back when you’re already reaching the elevator.  
In the meanwhile, Jungwoo was in denial.  
“No.” was all he said. 
“No, you don’t get me.” Junghah, the older sister, insisted. “I need you to be there for me. The director will fucking kill me. Also, what if I never get a job like this again?” 
“You should be there, not me!” his voice still sounded awfully adorable, despite the loudness. 
“I know! Do you think I’m like this cause I want to? Huh?” Junghah’s voice made itself louder than expected thanks to the eco. She had been in the bathroom for the whole day long. It had been four hours already. “Even if I manage to get out of here, I don’t think I can stay away for too long, you understand?” 
Jungwoo was too good, even he suspected of it, but everything must have a limit. He thought about the uncountable number of times he’d helped his older sister until the very moment. Combing her hair when she broke her arm. Dumping her ex-boyfriend for her cause she wouldn’t be able to handle his crying face. Not to mention all the times he had lied to their mom in order to help her sneak out of the house to go out.  
He knew that dressing up as a girl and showing up in a photoshoot wasn’t the best decision at all.  “Pretty please.’’ and that was it. 
With that simple sentence she had him all over her shoes.  
Jungwoo was way too good. 
[…] 
“Hold on, please!” you let the air in your lungs come out as a demand, running to the metal door a few steps away from you while managing to keep both ice americanos in your hands inside its cups, instead of dripping all over the elevator’s floor. “Thank you.” you mumble once in, trying to fix the harsh first impression you’d just caused. 
A smile was the answer. An awkwardly cute smile coming from an around 5 feet tall girl. She was huge, that was no secret, even compared to the ones waiting for you at the studio, yet something about her felt just to adorable, despite her size. Her long hair fell just right over her shoulder’s, contouring her back with a few other strands over her cheekbones. She was definitely adorable and you couldn’t help but smile. 
“Excuse me, are you here for the shooting?”  
“Uh, yes!” not only the face was lovely, but also the voice.  
You tried to keep your reactions to yourself, but seeing her ears getting red just made you internally jump in joy. “I see. I’m also on it, I mean, not modeling as you can see. I’m in charge of light and photography.’’ you smiled once again when she opened her mouth impressed, getting even more red than before. “Is this your first time?” 
“...Is it that obvious?” and once again you found yourself whipped by that extremally cute face.  
“Nah, it’s just cause you have very sincere expressions. It’s not bad though.” The conversation could keep on some other time, because in the very next second you’d arrived in the 8th floor. 
You, politely, guide the girl to the makeup room and let her there so they could work out on how to make her look like the astonishing (you would call kinda fake looking) woman we see on magazines. 
[…] 
As you thought Doyoung couldn’t keep his frustrations to himself, but since you were there the models had someone to rely on. Specially the cute one. It was her first time so it took ages for her to feel comfortable enough to pose properly.  
You managed to make some good pics before noon arrived, so you’d just sit around and wait until your colleagues were also done. Going out for a few drinks was always one of the best parts of working on projects with them.  
While setting up a few things in your head and organizing some paper and equipment, you heard two of your senior laughing. ‘If they can chill, they can also help me get everything done’ your thought while frowning. Finally reaching both guys you could barely remember the names, you were able to hear was seemed to be so funny. 
“I don’t know how Doyoung let that thing be on the project. That’s definitely not a girl, dude.”  
“I mean, maybe if I was drunk, or blind” both them laugh annoyingly.  
“Well, if it is so cool making fun out of people, I guess you guys will die in laughter once you check up on yourselves in the mirror.” you claim entering the place. “Or it might be funnier if your just shut the fuck up and take care of the work you’re here to do.’’ 
“Yeah, but nobody told me this was a gay parade.” one insisted. 
You smile back. “I bet they told you it was a circus. That’s why you keep acting like a fucking clown.” 
Before it could get any worse (or better), all the models, now done with their hard work, entered the room laughing in delight once it was over. Except from the tall one, who came in leaving the bathroom right behind you. You frowned in pain. You just wished she didn’t hear all the bullshit those two said. 
“Thank you for that.” she told you once you both were the only ones left in the huge studio, since taking the elevator was a kind of process when there were around 14 people in there. And taking the stairs on 8th floor was not an option.  
The touch of your hand on hers makes she feels vulnerable, and once again she blushes. “Never mind those assholes. Men are fucking stupid. Are you coming with us for a drink?” 
“Uh, not really. I gotta go back to check on my sister.” 
“Oh, I see.” and when the elevator finally arrives to get you, you hear her sighing in relief. 
“You did well today. I bet we are gonna see each other again anytime. What’s your name anyways?” 
“Kim Jungwoo.” she answers back with a wide smile.  
“You’re name is as adorable as your face, you know it?” you can’t help but make your thoughts real by telling the truth. 
“Oh... Thank you. I don’t get this a lot.” 
“But you should. Honestly, you’re the cutest model I’ve ever bumped into. Feel lucky, cause I see plenty of gorgeous girls every once in a while. You’re extremally beautiful.” 
“Thank you.” you are amused by the laugh that comes from her. It was just too much of a cute sound. But before you could embarrass yourself in front of her again the door opens, revealing a groups of people waiting for you to follow them to the nearest bar.  
You just wave goodbye and wish Jungwoo luck.
[…] 
Later that night Jungwoo searched for you online. He wasn’t brave enough to send a request, though. He felt cheesy for being like that, just appreciating your face once again by a picture someone else took. But it was not all about looks. It was about you all. Something just felt warm inside him while watching a stupid video Jaehyun posted on your birthday.  
Was it the smile? Was it the cozy voice? He didn’t know for sure, but it made him feel even worse for not being fearless.  
He was a coward afterwards.  
[…] 
You couldn’t bare the pain in your neck anymore, even after trying to stretch or taking pain-killers. You decided to go home for the day, you wouldn’t be much productive editing the pictures with that annoying pinch keeping all your attention for itself.  
“Excuse me!” the sweet voice reached your ears when you were just about to leave the building.  
“Yes?” you frowned. That face was somehow familiar. 
“Uh- well... I was here last weekend on the photoshoot...’’ You still couldn’t link it. 
“Sorry, I don’t recall. Are you a staff member?”  
“Not exactly. Well, I was... one of the models.” Oh. It wasn’t hard to say why you weren’t able to recognize her (him? they?). 
They still were tall as hell, the baby face had pretty much the same features and naive expressions, but it all just felt so different. The person right in front of you now seemed like someone else. 
“I think I remember now.” you said trying to conceal your surprise. “How can I help?” 
There it was again. Ears turning red, just as the tip of the nose, confused face and shrunken shoulders. Just as adorable as you could remember. 
“I actually... Hm...” 
“The pictures aren’t ready yet, if that’s what you’re here for. It takes some time.” 
“No!” they answered louder than you expected, getting you surprised. “I... actually came to.. Uh, talk to you.” 
“Me?” you didn’t mean to sound as surprised as you actually did.  
“I’m so sorry! I swear I’m not a weirdo. I just didn’t have the chance to talk to you that much that day, and I was wondering if... Well, if y-you...” 
No. The answer was already set on your mind before you could even think about the painful pinch on your neck. But that was when you realized it wasn’t there anymore. You frown in confusion and run your fingers through the back of your head. Everything is just fine. 
“Ok.” you said before thinking well, interrupting the other while getting lost on their own words. “What about grabbing some coffee?” 
They were not a dog, but for a second you could swear you saw a wagging tail when they opened that bright smile right in front of your eyes. 
[…] 
So Kim Jungwoo was indeed a guy.  
The whole ‘’dressing’’ as girl thing had a story behind it, before you could get angry at him. No that you had a real reason for that, but as Ten would say “getting mad at boys is you favorite sports”. But even though, he was way different from all the other boys you had ever met.  
Adorable wasn’t the only word to describe him. He was... sweet (?) Like genuinely.  Not the kind of “am I cute?” sweet, the real sweetness. The one kids lose once they grow up. The one that makes us love animals because they’re just too pure for this world.  And you hated yourself for feeling so much at ease with a guy as you did with Jungwoo. 
You knew his intentions. Growing up with two older brothers and being friends with Johnny made you a kind of expert when it comes to know that guys are into you. Yet, you couldn’t help but smile at each sweet expression he’d let off whenever you said something that caught him out of guard.  
[…] 
Keeping in touch with Jungwoo was just natural.  
People tend to say they never really realize they fell in love, but you’d never forget that friday night, when he texted you a “I wanna see you soon.”.  
What is this? You thought to yourself, holding onto your phone tightly, staring at the ceiling wondering since when were you anticipating seeing Jungwoo that much. What exactly was that cozy warmness inside your chest. 
[…] 
“I like you.” Jungwoo closed his eyes when the words came out, becoming real. 
It had been a month since the first time you thought he was adorable. And now, right in front of that playground somewhere nearby your house, on that cold november noon, he was being adorable once again. 
He didn’t dare to take your hands. He knew you well to know how suspicious you were with skinship, what got you smiling. You moved one step forward, getting closer to the taller cute boy, taking one of his hands on yours. 
“I know.” 
“Since when?” he sighs deeply. You wish you were brave enough to check up his expression. I bet his ears are red, you thought.  
“Since day one.” you laugh when his lamentation moan reaches your ears, at the same time he decides to lay his head on your shoulder.  
“That’s so unfair.” he sighs once again, that’s when you feel the urge to pet his head. At the first touch he gets surprised, since touching wasn’t really something between the two of you. “I’m sorry.” 
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” you smile, although you knew he couldn’t see it.  
Gathering all his strength, he takes a step back to face you. “And... What’s your answer?” 
You laugh. “You know I have a soft spot for you and there’s no way I’d say no when you’re looking at me like that.”. 
And when he pouts at you with that ridiculously adorable face you can’t help but hugging him. “You were special since the first second. Thank you for that.” 
He hugs you back and now you’re able to feel his heartbeat, which gets you a bit worried since it was way faster than people consider healthy. 
“I never cared when people gave me compliments. But that day, when you said I was beautiful, I felt you were looking through me. It was not about being a guy, being a girl, not even about being attractive. It was about... me. I’m the one to thank you.” 
You smile while petting his back. “You’re beautiful, Jungwoo.” 
And he was. 
Kim Jungwoo was the prettiest thing that had ever crossed your path. 
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diyunho · 5 years
Text
The Joker x Reader -”What Death Tastes Like” Part 4
Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.
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Part 1      Part 2      Part 3      Part 5
Your Birthday
“Look at him, parading like a rooster!” Emma elbows you, huffing.
The Joker is on the terrace, nosing inside the coolers to find his favorite grape juice brand since he knows it should be in there somewhere. He’s sporting very dark purple pants and a much lighter shade purple shirt, fitted on his body to perfection plus two gold chains around his neck which makes one wonder why he didn’t add more giving his sense of fashion.
You pile up some fruits on your plate, gazing The Clown’s way with a smirk:
“Those trousers make his butt stand out.”
“That’s probably the reason for wearing them,” Emma sighs and you both burst up laughing, amused at the truth she admitted aloud.
“I feel this lustful desire of spanking him,” you blur out. “I bet your dad only unbuttoned half of his shirt because he obviously wants me to unbutton the other half: that sexy rooster can frizzle my feathers anytime he wishes,” you tease and she covers your mouth in a hurry.
“Y/N, can you not?!”
“Sssttt, you’ll wake up the baby,” the muffled sentence distracts Emma and she lets go, apologizing to the five weeks old:
“Oh, sorry angel,” she lingers over the baby basket placed on the empty table next to the self-serve buffet: Frost’s son is napping under the umbrella while his parents mingle for a little bit with the guests that already arrived at your birthday party. How did Jonny end up here? The crazy motive: his employer is to blame for the mess he created one hour ago, already fixed due to your sense of urgency.
The Joker showed up in time at 3pm for his “date” like you instructed; you opened the door and he immediately handed you a car sit containing the tiny human.
“Happy Birthday, Y/N!”
“Ummm…thank you,” the hesitant Y/N invited him inside.
“I got you a present,” he widely grinned, confident nobody else came up with a better gift idea.
“… Whose baby is this?!...” you followed him, carefully walking with the adorable bundle in the living room; the sleeping treasure fussed for a few seconds and went back to dreaming, unaware he was away from his parents.
“Frost’s,” J answered and you turned towards the entrance, baffled.
“I’ll go open the door for him then.”
“That’s not necessary; he didn’t come with me.”
“What do you mean?!”
“He’s off today. I just went to his house to drop up some ammo, then sneaked in the nursery and took the baby.”
“And his parents were ok with that?!” you crinkled your nose, more and more suspicious regarding his behavior.
“They don’t know,” The King of Gotham calmly informed.
“You kidnapped Frost’s son?!”
“I didn’t kidnap him,” J rolled his eyes, offended at your accusation. “I took him.”
“Without his parents’ consent. So you kidnapped him!” you gasped at the insane revelation.
“I’m in charge,” The Joker logic surfaced instantly. “I don’t require consent! Why are you staring at me like this?”
“I keep on hoping you’re bluffing,” you cringed at his argument. “Give me your phone!” you ordered and the item was shortly in your possession, although you had to witness a lot of grievance from his part as you searched for Frost’s digits.
Praise heavens you did since his wife was absolutely hysterical when you called: their offspring was missing from the cradle and Jonny might not be the type of person that panics, yet he had a total nervous breakdown.
They were fast to come and pick up Evan, so yeah… that’s how The Frosts ended up at your birthday bash… Full credit goes to their amazing boss!
*************
After one hour
“Do me a favor,” your father continues his conversation with J. “I want you to check with your contacts and try to find more Cromyxillium for me; I’m in desperate need.”
“Don’t you have enough for Y/N?” The Joker growls at the view of Bane’s son entertaining himself with you and Emma.
“For now. Tomorrow I’m starting her on full therapy; I found a new formula to bind the molecules together, this way her system won’t reject the medicine like it did last week. It will make her sick but I’ll be here to supervise the entire process.”
“Aren’t you afraid it will kill her?” J’s sensitive personality comes to full bloom in the best of moments.
Jonathan Crane is silent, then articulates painful facts he can’t avoid sharing:
“I am… I don’t have any other options on such a short amount of time…My daughter is fading… her lungs are finished…” and he gulps, straining to regain composure. “If this experimental drug can restore damaged tissue, it can aid with her cancer… She agreed to the test because I’m a super smart dad,” he grumbles. “That’s what she said…that I’m a super smart… I might be… I don’t even know if my remedy will work or if it will speed up her demise.”
“Fine, I’ll inquire on the product,” The Joker agrees. “What’s in for me?”
Your father takes a deep breath, exasperated.
“What do you want?”
“Excuse me,” The King of Gotham interrupts. “I think my pride’s at stake: somebody’s attempting to steal my date!” he inflates his chest and finds it imperative to notify the puzzled parent. “Y/N’s my date, didn’t she tell you? I was strictly forbidden to bring Mara so I had to maintain my reputation somehow.”
“What reputation??!!! She mentioned it and I thought the whole idea meant only you being obnoxious!” Jonathan huffs.
“I am obnoxious!” The Joker sourly admits and crushes the large group forming due to Sam’s entertaining abilities.
“Hey Y/N, where’s the grape juice?” he finds a random pretext to get your attention as you gesture towards the end of the terrace.
“There’s a bunch on ice,” you giggle at Sam’s story and J lies:
“I couldn’t find any.”
“Maybe someone moved it,” you detach from the gathering and stroll with him in the area you saw what he’s asking for.
“Who gave you that pendant?” The Clown Prince of Crime investigates since you definitely didn’t have the jewelry earlier.
“Sam,” you touch the delicate diamond heart attached to the platinum chain. “It’s so pretty, I love it.”
“He scored major points with the birthday girl, huh?” J mocks.
“Well, apparently some people are aware of my preferences and some give me presents I can’t keep,” you hint and The Joker comprehends what you aim at.
“My gift was brilliant! You said that if we would have gotten married we would have had a bunch of kids, thus it means you adore them. That’s why I brought Evan.”
“Yeah, and his parents already took him home, leading to the reasonable conclusion we can assess from the fiasco: you actually don’t have a present for me. Oh, would you look at this: grape juice!” you sarcastically show him the huge pile of containers exactly where it’s supposed to be.
“How did I miss this?” J pretends to be shocked and sneers when he notices Bane’s son coming near you two. “Dance with me!” he unexpectedly sweeps you in his arms. “It’s a slow song, just move your feet,” he encourages. “What do you want for your birthday then?” Emma’s dad distracts the astonished Y/N furthermore.
“Hmmm… I can settle for a kiss?” you unconsciously caress the short hair on the back of his head while he quickly pecks your cheek. “Um… if I wanted a jellyfish sting I could have went to the aquarium,” you sassily react and The Joker rolls his eyes. “I want a proper kiss, unless you have those reserved for Mara.”
“Why are we talking about my girlfriend?”
“On and off girlfriend,” you emphasize. “A huge indicator you don’t care that much about her. You need a woman that genuinely loves you; she’s a catalyst fueling your tendencies, you don’t need that! You don’t fight fire with fire, OK?” you almost shout and ironically enough he decides to engage in your speech.
“What do you fight it with then?”
“Dynamite!” you proudly state. “Blow up everything, wipe the slot clean and start fresh!”
“A-ah…A-ha…”, he mischievously agrees. “I assume you’re the dynamite in this scenario?” the silver grimace spreads across his face.
“Perhaps.”
“Why is Bane’s son here?” The Joker changes the subject. “He keeps lurking around and it annoys me.”
“Don’t be jealous,” you mislead him on purpose. “Sam was my boyfriend in high school,” you brief your so called partner. “I’m fond of him.”
“Why would I be jealous?!” The King’s mood switches and you realize yours is also: the sole detail he’s interested in is to emphasize zero attraction for his daughter’s friend.
“Yeah…why would you be jealous?...” you sadly smile and let go before the song ends. “Listen, I have to return to my guests, alright? You don’t have to stay; you should go back to your fire because you certainly don’t know what to do with dynamite,” the meaningful reply leaves him intrigued again: no cocky response to your clever twist in words since he already lost the passive-aggressive altercation.
************
9:49pm  
You gaze at the starry sky, cozy on the inflatable mattress; the mesh on top of the tent is so thin you can hardly tell it’s there. Very quiet in the garden… you should have went to the river with the others, yet you felt the urge to be alone and rest before you reprise your treatment tomorrow.
“Y/N, are you in here?” The Joker’s voice is heard.
“No!” you grouchily snarl.
He unzips the tent and squeezes inside, obeying to your protest:
“Close it! I don’t want bugs in here!”
“I’m hiding from Crane, he made me do a bunch of stuff in preparation for your Cromyxillium therapy!” J complains to indifferent ears.
“I thought you bailed hours ago,” you coldly articulate.
“I was held prisoner in the underground lab! You should be thankful for my services.”
“You don’t do anything for free and I’m sure you’re over exaggerating anyway!”
“Whatever!” The Joker drops on the mattress next to you, deeply exhaling. “I’m beat; I’ll rest for a bit before I drive.”
You rest your fingers on your tummy, struggling to remain calm.
“I missed hanging out with my cuddling buddy,” J nozzles in your shoulder and you give him an insolent glare.
“We’re not cuddling buddies!”
“That’s too bad; I precisely came to deliver your birthday present. I resent the notion of a man unjustly accused of being cheap.”
“What birthday present?” you furrow your eyebrows.
“The kiss you demanded Y/N!”
“I’m good,” you disregard his offer and he hovers over you, captivated.
“I thought you have the hots for me, I even wore these hoochie pants to please you. I mean, I endured your affection and harassment for the past three years. I’m here now with an invisible olive branch so I think you should reconsider your answer.”
“Did you just say hoochie pants?!” you snicker at his distorted apology although you’re mad at him. “You didn’t wear them for me; you wanted to show off your assets!”
“It’s not my fault I’m handsome!” The Joker defends his wardrobe choice.
“I seriously want to be alone,” you indirectly imply he should disappear. “I’m tired of playing games. I won’t flirt with you anymore, I promise. Deal?” you lift your pinky up and there’s something strange concealed behind your abrupt vow.
“Why not?”
“First of all, I won’t have the energy: my father warned of serious consequences during the treatment. Second, it might kill me: we don’t know how my physique will endure; I have terminal cancer, remember?”
“Are you scared?” J whispers and you nod a yes, upset. “Then you should accept your gift in case you won’t have another occasion,” his rationale pushes you to reconsider your alternatives.
You pull him closer and wait, explaining your hesitation.
“It’s my birthday, you should be the one kissing me.”
The Joker doesn’t defy your logic and complies, unable to suppress an arrogant grin when you moan:
“God, your lips are so soft; I could kiss them all day.”
“Don’t get into it, I have to vacate the premises soon. I don’t want Crane to catch me in your tent and presume the worst.”
“My dad will be in the lab until morning time; you can stay if you want to,” you trace his jaw line, momentarily forgetting your grudge.
“Didn’t you preach about wishing to be alone?”
“Why are you making out with another woman besides your girlfriend?” you evaluate the waters with a question.
It doesn’t seem he’ll bother to justify his behavior thus you utter:
“I can be alone…with you. I’m 23, literally a consenting adult,” the important information is added for the heck of it.
“Consenting to what?” The Joker mumbles as you softly bite his lower lip.
“I hate you,” you pout and snuggle to him while he grabs a pillow, irritated at his involuntary reaction. J stuffs it in between the bodies and you swiftly toss it away.
“Are you trying to get me in trouble Y/N?”  
“You’re always in trouble,” you begin unbuttoning his shirt. “Let’s go with the flow, shall we? No strings attached, no commitments. You know why?” you pause and continue. “I might not survive the Cromyxillium and I want to make love to the old guy I have a major crush on.”
“Old?!” The Clown prince of Crime scoffs.
“You’re basically twice my age,” you roughly estimate without proof and kiss him again. The Joker slides his hands under your t-shirt, opting to dismiss your affirmation with a different kind of truth.
“Do you recall when you asked me if I ever tasted death?”
“Yes…”, you bury your face in his neck, wondering if he’ll say something mean that will ruin the night.  
“You don’t taste like death,” J forces you to look at him. “You really don’t.”
“… … … … … … …  You think so?” the emotional Y/N sniffles, categorically surprised at the confession.
“Yeah. You actually taste like dynamite,” he winks and doesn’t mind the sudden meltdown: The Joker is not big at comforting people, but the girl in his arms feels relieved nevertheless.
She might not compare to the fire he’s used to, yet Y/N’s eagerness to blow up everything, wipe the slot clean and start fresh is unfamiliar territory that’s worth exploring.    
  Also read: MASTERLIST
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enragedbees · 5 years
Text
Wretched/Deluded
Pairing: Prinxiety, side Logicality
Summary: As Virgil helps Logan get ready for a date, he reminisces back to when they first met in high school.
Warnings: Swearing (If I missed anything, please let me know!)
Words: 3030
Song rec: Factories by Autoheart (This is less of a theme for this chapter, but more of the theme I’m using for the fic in its entirety!)
A huge thanks to the lovely @fall-sunflowers for being my beta reader!!
Taglist: @xionbean @thenewlarislynn @emo-disaster @darkstrange-son @starwarsdestroyedme
I love reading your comments! Please let me know what you think! :)
Read the companion to this story!
Next
——————————————-
Chapter 1: To Put Together Me
         ~ -222 days from The Beginning ~
Virgil heard the front door of his apartment slam shut.
        He switched the tab on his laptop from Tumblr to LinkedIn and got up from the couch, leaving the screen open and facing out as if to prove that he’d been doing what he was supposed to. His roommate walked through the kitchen, grinning.
        “Hey.” Virgil walked across the room and leaned against the wall. “You look happy.”
        “I am.” Logan opened the refrigerator and grabbed a water bottle. “I have a date tonight.”
        Virgil grinned. “You finally asked that guy you met?”
        “‘Finally’ seems rather melodramatic. I waited a perfectly reasonable amount of time before asking him out.” Logan cracked his water bottle open. “I’ve only known him for two weeks.”
        “And for two weeks you haven’t stopped talking about him.”
        Logan rolled his eyes. He took a drink and set the bottle down. “How goes the job hunt?”
        Virgil grimaced and sat back down on the couch. “I can’t find anything worthwhile.”
        “Maybe I can ask Patton tonight if he knows of anyone who’s hiring.” Logan offered. “He knows the city well.”
        Virgil scoffed. “You can’t ask that on a first date. He’ll think that’s the only reason you took him out.”
        Logan’s eyes widened. “Okay, I won’t.”
        Virgil grabbed his laptop. “When are you picking him up?”
        Logan checked his watch. “About two and a half hours.”
        “And what are you wearing?”
        Logan looked down at what he had on. “I was just going to wear this.”
        Virgil stopped. “You’re kidding, right?”
        “No. What’s wrong with it?”
        Virgil shook his head, eyes wide. “You can’t wear your daytime clothes on a date! Especially not when he’s already seen you in them that day. Do you want to look like you don’t care about going out with him?”
        “Well, obviously, not,” muttered Logan.
        Virgil sighed loudly and stood up. ”Come on, I’ll find you something.” He clasped Logan on the shoulder. “I guess some things never change.”
        Logan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “It’s not like I’m helpless without you.”
“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” Virgil lightly pushed against Logan into his room and started to rifle through Logan’s closet.
~
        ~ -3110 days from The Beginning ~
Virgil Terek had no friends.
        And he was okay with that. He enjoyed being alone.
        It’s not like he wasn’t likable. He wasn’t an outcast. People were nice to him and he was polite back.
        Virgil just didn’t make an effort to put himself near other people. If he auditioned for the school musical, he’d be immediately adopted by the theater kids. Same with choir, or art, or any kind of sport, all things he could excel at. He simply didn’t want to.
        Virgil didn’t want to join a group where he’d always be on the outside. He might have had a couple friends, but he was too far behind to ever be a part of some tight-knit collection of people who had been in that club together since childhood. Virgil would sit with them at lunch, hang out with them on the weekends, go to their birthday and graduation parties. But they wouldn’t ask to work with him on group projects in class. They wouldn’t pick him for their team in gym. Every time they made plans, it would be, “Oh, and you can come too, if you want, Virgil.”
        And it was far too dangerous to have a single best friend, instead of a group of people. Virgil would never depend so much on one person. He’d just get hurt when they left for someone else.
        Virgil was happy where he was. At lunch he sat in silence with the other kind-of-loners like him and did homework. At home, he read or wrote or listened to music or watched television or dicked around on his phone. Virgil was content.
        The lack of friends eliminated distractions from what really mattered to Virgil. He could focus on what he wanted to do, and never had to worry about not having enough free time to do it.
Virgil Terek entered the ninth grade with complete indifference. By that point, he had learned his place in the world. As long as he maintained his grades and took all his required courses and interacted with his parents every once in awhile, nobody bothered him. He was free.
        And Virgil had never had a problem maintaining his grades. Being categorized as a “gifted student” sometime in elementary school, he never struggled with completing an assignment or needed to study for tests. Virgil was placed in the advanced classes throughout elementary and middle school and had no problem breezing through them without trying or even enjoying it.
        He took Geometry CP freshman year because it was the logical next step. He had no idea how much different an advanced high school course was from an advanced middle school course. When Virgil didn’t immediately understand a concept, he didn’t ask for help. When he only halfway understood the quadratic formula or didn’t memorize the order of the postulates and theorems, he didn’t study, because he had never had to before, and everything worked out on its own. Virgil started getting the worst test grades he had ever received in his life.
        A few weeks into the course, he was barely pulling a D+. His parents and teacher kept getting on his case, Virgil didn’t know how to fix his grades, and he felt his freedom slipping away.
        Other students complained near him about doing poorly, but their worst was always a grade Virgil would kill to have again. And the most annoying part was the new student in his class who never complained, who never was unprepared or confused, who seemed to have already mastered every topic in the course yet participated and accomplished classwork with vigor like it was the most interesting thing going on in his life.
        Over the course of a few weeks, Virgil saw his irrational hatred of the kid intensify. Every time he got a poor test grade or failed assignment, he grew angrier at the kid who had no problems with the material. Everything about him annoyed Virgil. He was a freshman who had just moved into town, and he was still better than Virgil. He was very tall and very thin, which should have made him awkward, but he wasn’t. He dressed every day like he was going to work, tie and all. He spoke so professionally, almost robotically. He was stuck up and arrogant and took every chance he could to correct someone. But he had an A+ in Geometry.
        Virgil, slumped at his desk in class while the teacher passed back their most recent tests, let these thoughts stew. He begrudgingly took the paper his teacher handed back to him, upside down and folded, with a stern but encouraging glance in Virgil’s direction. Virgil grimaced and turned it over.
        A big red D- sat leeringly at the top of the page. Virgil sighed. He looked to the front of the room at the new kid, who was flipping through the test, observing it with noticeable interest, looking over the unmarked pages before setting it back on the desk with an obvious A+ at the top.
        Virgil rolled his eyes to himself. None of his closest acquaintances were in the same math class, and he didn’t feel comfortable asking the sophomores and juniors in the period for help. This kid who didn’t know Virgil and therefore, didn’t have a reason to turn him away, might have been Virgil’s only chance to get his life back to normal.
        He groaned inwardly. He wished he had another option.
        When the period ended, Virgil walked up to the kid, who was packing up his backpack.
        “Hey, how’d you do on the test?” Virgil asked. He hated small talk, but he was about to ask a complete stranger for help, and Virgil felt that he at least owed it to the kid.
        “I got one-hundred percent,” answered the boy. Virgil resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
        “Cool. I didn’t do so well.” Virgil slung his backpack over his shoulder and they walked out of the classroom. “I’m Virgil, by the way.”
        The kid furrowed his brow. “Like the poet? What kind of a name is that?”
        Virgil glared at him. He decided didn’t need straight A’s that badly. “Alright, fuck off.” He started to walk away.
        “Wait, I’m sorry.” The other boy at least looked sheepish. “I don’t have much of a filter or an understanding of social etiquette. I tend to speak whatever I’m thinking without realizing the effects of what I say.”
        Jesus, this kid. Virgil was sure he had just recited that from a textbook he picked up somewhere. He sighed. “Okay. I don’t think that makes it better, though.”
        The kid stuck his hand out. “Pleased to meet you, Virgil. My name is Logan Schlenke.”
        Virgil gingerly shook his hand and they continued down the hallway. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I’m kind of doing really badly in Geo and I can’t help but notice that you know what you’re doing.” He sighed. “Is there any way you can help me when I don’t understand what’s going on?”
        “You want me to tutor you?” asked Logan. “Sure, I can do that.”
        “It’s not tutoring, I just want a little help with the content.”
        “That would be called tutoring,” Logan offered.
        “No, I don’t need –” He stopped himself and gritted his teeth. “Fine, whatever, call it tutoring,” Virgil muttered. He bit his lip. “But you’ll do it?”
        Logan stopped. He looked at Virgil thoughtfully. “I’ll help you under one condition.”
        “Seriously?” Virgil groaned. “What is it?”
        “It’s become evident to me that in order to have a productive and enjoyable high school career, one must be on good terms with their classmates,” Logan said. “I’ll help you understand Geometry if you help me to understand how to interact with people.”
        Virgil raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’m your best choice to learn people skills, man. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I kind of keep to myself and don’t talk to anybody else.”
        “That’s not true,” Logan commented. “I’ve seen you talking with lots of people and everyone likes you. Besides, I don’t want or need actual friends. I just need to get along with the other students in the school.”
        Damn. This kid. Virgil was already regretting the decision. There had to be an easier way to pass Geo.
        He let out a breath. “Okay. I’ll help you.”
        Logan stuck his hand out again, and Virgil shook it. “It’s a deal,” Logan smiled.
        The two exchanged contact information, and Logan walked into his next class, leaving Virgil shaking his head in the hallway.
        Over the next few days, Logan went to Virgil’s house after school and worked with him on the content they learned in class.
        “Your main problem seems to be that you never learned how to study,” Logan noted. “If you practice teaching yourself the concepts you don’t understand in class, soon you won’t need someone to reteach it to you.”
        Virgil scoffed. “Why should I teach myself something when there’s a teacher getting paid to do it?”
        “Teachers or other professionals are useful to help explain a concept to students. Not all teaching styles work on everyone, so sometimes it’s necessary to find out how you learn best and teach it to yourself,” Logan explained, maintaining a remarkable amount of patience. “You should also pay attention in class more often.”
        Virgil tried to help Logan interact in social situations, but he had no idea how to teach him, or if any of what he knew would work for Logan. Logan tried his best, though, putting the same effort into studying people skills that he did in his schoolwork.
        “So, maybe, when you want to say something, just…don’t, for a bit. Until you think it over and decide it’s an acceptable thing to say,” Virgil offered.
        Logan’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I’ve tried that?”
        Virgil rolled his eyes. “Look, dude, I’m not really sure how it works for you, anyway. But if you want people to like you, you can���t say things that make you look like an asshole. Just…calibrate, I guess.”
        Logan’s eyebrow raised, but he said nothing. He jotted something down in a notebook.
        “And you have to lose the tie.”
        “Why?” asked Logan, genuinely confused.
        “Nobody wears ties to school unless they have to dress up. Don’t you own, like, a single t-shirt or something?”
        Horror flashed across Logan’s face. “Why would I wear a t-shirt to school?”
        “So you look like a normal human teenager and not a child trying to run for president.”
        Logan pursed his lips but wrote in his notebook again.
        Virgil took a breath. “Tomorrow, try wearing jeans, a nice t-shirt, and an unzipped hoodie. And brush your bangs forward a bit, your hair doesn’t have to all be going in the same direction.”
        Logan looked at Virgil like he had told Logan to wear nothing but a bathrobe to school, but he wrote it all down.
        And the next day, Logan walked up to Virgil at his locker, wearing skinny jeans with a brown belt, a long-sleeve gray and white raglan, and a green hoodie. He had his hair swept to the side, falling gently over his forehead, just high enough so it didn’t impede his vision.
        “Whoa.” Virgil grinned at Logan.
        Logan smiled sheepishly back, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “I feel ridiculous.”
        “You look great, man,” said Virgil. And he really meant it. He could already feel a difference in the energy surrounding Logan. He could feel the other students no longer seeing him as an outlier or a stranger, but as someone who could be anyone else in the school. He’s one of us, they seemed to think out loud.
        And, for the first time, Virgil realized that Logan was actually a really attractive guy. He just hadn’t known how to express himself. For some reason, Logan had tried to confine himself to a professional, more mature style. But in this outfit, he looked comfortable, relaxed, more laid-back and easygoing. Though he was almost definitely nervous of switching up his style so suddenly, Virgil could see in the way he carried himself that Logan felt more like himself in this outfit, not trying to prove to everyone that he’s someone he’s not.
        They began walking down the hallway. “The most important thing about wearing this today is being confident in it. It won’t have as much of an impact if you doubt yourself.” Virgil said. “I know it’s a big change, but you’ve got to believe that you do look good.”
        “You told me I did,” Logan said. “I have no reason to distrust you.”
        As they walked, a few kids in the opposite direction smiled or nodded hello to Logan. He smiled back
        “How do you feel?’ Virgil asked.
        “I feel good.” Logan nodded. “I had no idea how much something as small as what I wore could have an effect on how I’m perceived.”
        “You’re already starting to seem like a real person to the others,” Virgil smiled. “Keep this up and I’d bet anything you could get any girl in the school.”
        Logan laughed out loud. “We’ll see. How did you do on the pop quiz in Geometry yesterday?”
        “I got a B,” Virgil grinned.
        “Well, that’s certainly an improvement, but I know you can do more. Are you free again this afternoon?”
        Virgil sighed. God forbid he be proud of less than his best. “Yeah, my place again?”
        Logan nodded and turned into his first period classroom for the day.
        As the days passed, Virgil slowly grew more confident in his abilities to learn and understand things himself. He noticed that he started asking questions in class when he was lost, and he noticed seeing Logan smirk with pride every time.
        Logan slowly grew more accustomed to social interaction. His robotic syntax and word choice didn’t change, but with the change in style, it began to seem quirky and intelligent rather than just arrogant. And though he still, with nothing but good and helpful intentions, corrected anyone who was wrong about anything, Virgil helped him to do it without making the other person feel stupid. Logan made friends, built connections, and started making a place for himself in the school.
        Virgil soon became confident in his ability to study and learn things on his own, which was a huge source of pride for him. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to properly study. As one last benchmark, Logan went an entire chapter without tutoring or explaining anything to Virgil.
        At the end of the chapter, his teacher handed him his test, upside down, with a pleased smile. Virgil turned over the paper to see a 96% A crowning the top.
        Virgil ran up to Logan at the end of the class as they walked out together. “I can’t believe I did it!”
        Logan grinned. “Congratulations.”
        “Man, I could not have done this without you. Thank you so much for everything,” said Virgil.
        “You’re welcome.”
        Virgil pulled his phone out. “Do you want to come over today? I have to text my mom but I know she’ll be fine with it.”
        Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “Is there another class you’re having trouble with?”
        “What?” Virgil looked up at him. “No, no. Not for studying. Just to hang out.”
        Logan raised his eyebrows.
        “Like, for fun?” Virgil continued.
        Logan’s face lit up. “Okay. Sure.”
        He turned and walked away, beaming. As Virgil watched him go, a realization hit him. He had been trying for so long to get his life back to normal, back to being alone and untethered. But now, he’d never be able go back to that life.
        “Goddamn,” he muttered.
        Virgil Terek had one friend.
        He walked away, shaking his head and laughing at himself, but unable to keep a smile off his face.
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moonlightstars16 · 4 years
Text
Hotels And Camping
30 Days Connverse Challenge
Day 28 ~ Vacation
Vacations more or less were more for Connie's benefit. Helping her get out of the study mindset and refresh. Relax and take a break from the hustle and bustle of her college life. Steven loved whisking her away to different places. Especially places he had visited before on his (what felt like) endless searching for new roots to plant. A new home. But he wasn't complaining much since he loved experiencing new things. He only hoped she found enjoyment in them as well. Or at least some form of liking it.
The next couple of weeks he took them for a few days stay in Empire City before spending the rest of the time in the woods. The citizens near the area gave him a private cottage to use for the spring if he wanted to go. Finishing up the arrangements, he turned off his phone and glanced out at the window to where Connie's dorm room was. A glowing pink tint appeared on his cheeks when he spotted her through the open window. In a rush going back and forth in her room. He had to admit for a moment it was amusing.
Locking the Dondai he went to the dorm front entrance and foyer. Waiting for one of the older women working there to escort him to her room(Or Connie since the gals could do the same if they were given permission to do so). Since this was an all girls dorm, this was a rule he had to abide too. No guys allowed upstairs unless given approval. Even wandering the halls wasn't okay. But he didn't mind, he would wait an eternity to see his beloved Connie again.
A few minutes later one of the working dorm advisors came out and gave him the biggest hug. They liked his modest and kind attitude. Even willing to help when they seemed to need it. Including carrying things around or making small conversations. To put it shortly, he was adored by them. Even a few others in the dorm were crushing on him as well. However he made it clear, in the most gentlemanly way possible, that he was loyal to Connie. His heart went out to her and her alone. It didn't mean they weren't going to try, but most gave up after awhile.
Once at her door, he knocked, hearing a crashing sound, cursing and possibly one of the quickest intros he ever had. The door swung open so hard it almost hit the wall. Connie was looking beautiful as ever. Even with her hair slightly messed up, clothes a bit untidy and poster slightly bent over and out of breathe.
"Hi! Hello welcome! Come on in and have a sit, get a drink or help yourself to anything in the fridge and I'll be right back!" During the entire conversation she managed to pull him in by the arm, shut the door and ran all the way back to her room. Not being able to him to steal a kiss from her either. Or even a word for that matter. Still he was concerned, thankful he was able to take her on this trip when he did. Upon seeing her run past him, he gripped her arm and pulled her close. Catching her lips with his as they lingered there for at least a minute. Pulling away smirking upon seeing her shocked yet wanting expression.
"Hi Strawberry. Do you need help packing? We got plenty of time don't worry." Connie sighed and blinked out of her daze. Back straight and arms crossed with a frown.
"I wasn't that bad....was I?" She looked a bit worried as her expression changed and her lower lip bit.
"How about I help you and then we can get going?" Steven asked as he took her hand and lead her to her bedroom. Shutting the window and closing the curtains after telling her what he noticed earlier. Making her blush from embarrassment.
Hours later it was nighttime and they had just gotten to their hotel room in Empire City. In fact it was almost as nice as the one he stayed in that one night with Greg and Pearl. Not as luxurious but similar vibes. A large bed, a balcony with a beautiful view of the city, a huge bathroom, large tv with many streaming services and a small minibar.
The first thing Connie did was wash off the sweat from the day and the traveling from her dorm to the city. He joined her in the bathtub, helping her wash off the day. Resisting the urge to tease her as he did so. Afterwords they had room service and soon was cuddling together in the bed watching a movie. Falling asleep as the city lights dimmed and the moonlight shone through the glass.
When the morning sun rose, they got up and prepared for a day full of theatrical productions and sight to see. Tourist areas to visit and what not. Connie adored everything she saw, relished every taste of food and tried not to cry over a musical she had been dying to see for years. Steven smiled and reminisced just being by her side all day while having fun.
Days later they were on the road again to stop at the cabin in the forest. It was near a beautiful large lake and the trees surrounding them were just gorgeous. They felt like they had stepped into a Bob Ross painting. No mistakes. Just happy accidents but everything seemed so perfect.
The next morning, they got an early start on hiking along trails. Leading to the tallest mountain in the area. Connie made Steven promise not to use any gem powers unless it was an emergency. He shrugged with open hands as he chuckled nervously.
"No cheating Biscuit!"
"Since when have I ever-"
"When we had that breathing contest last summer."
"Hey nobody said I couldn't use a bubble."
"Still cheating! We have to be fair about this!"
"Okay okay I promise I won't unless we absolutely have too." With that they began there long hike up the mountain. Going up and down on rocky terrain. Being careful whenever the path seemed too close to the edge. Steven kept his hand in hers as they passed by those specific areas. Making sure if anything happens, they could bubble and float away quickly.
Thankfully they didn't need too. Reaching the top within a matter of hours. Connie fist bumped the air as she yelled out in excitement. Causing the sound to echo all around. Steven only smiled since he could hardly catch his breathe. Drinking it lots of water they had brought. Watching as Connie took pictures but stopped when she landed her camera in him. Giggling as she walked over and pulled his back straight from being hunched over.
"Are you alright Steven?"
"I'll be okay Connie. I just need to sit down for a bit." With that they sat on the rocks and just enjoyed the view. Taking it all in as they hydrated themselves. Until the bottles ran out of water.
"Well, I think we need to use some of your powers after all." She stated, shaking the bottle to see if any water drops were left.
"So what you're telling me is that I can float us down in the bubble?"
"Yep and we can get into the jacuzzi afterwords to ease our aching muscles." she winked lifting up her shirt to reveal her one piece swim suit. "I thought I would get super sweaty, which I did, and I came prepared."
"Well you and I had the same thought." Steven laughed scratching the back of his neck. Immediately stood up with her, formed a bubble and soon they were floating down the mountain. Careful to avoid any woodland creature or dangerous boulders. He made his floating powers a bit more like falling faster to give them some extra energy. They were laughing and squealing like on a roller coaster. Having fun before safely landing in the hot tub. Enjoying the time under the stars. Excited for the rest of there stay in the woods.
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ayakashiramblings · 5 years
Text
Dawn and Twilight’s Social Media Accounts
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Kuya
@NevermoreButSnore.
1230 followers.
Yes, I copied Edgar Allan Poe. Yes, I’m not sorry about the rhyme. Or calling him out. 
Not that he really cares.
Insists that he is a headcanon creator on Twitter 
Everyone who follows him knows that he is lying. 
If we really had to classify him as a writer, it would one who posts those way-too-accurate posts about writers complaining about writing. 
Like the notebook hoarding one. Not that anyone here in the fandom is guilty of that, haha... haha... ha.
Ironically is one of the more popular ones out of the whole group. 
His flat responses and laziness are way too prominent to NOT be noticed. 
If you actually tentatively sneak into his DMs though, for writing tips, he will patiently listen and... rather bluntly advise you. 
It’s still advice though and is always the type to check out and reblog any short fanfics.
It just has to be weird, sporadic hours because he is the type to fall asleep with the phone on his face. 
Koga Kitamikado
1230 followers.
@CapitalKayKay
Listen, there is a reason why a lot of successful businesses chose Instagram as their social media so Koga is no exception. 
What makes his account stand out, as you can see from his rather cheeky username, is that he is willing to be an open book. 
So he isn’t constantly shoving down any products he is sponsoring or whatever piece he is endorsing. 
It’s more of genuinely wanting to hang out and explore what the world has to offer. 
Whenever he posts a picture of the gang together, he’s the one tagging all of them, even the ones with hard usernames.
And there’s always a nice comment thanking whoever hosted the fun time or being appreciative of the area and the locals.
It helps that he has a sense of humour so the memes are always just the right amount of teasing but nothing too bad that will deter potential clients.
Because of his down-to-earth nature, he reels everyone in.
Uses the space to invite everyone following him on any celebration/casual outing.
The thing is... he has a lot of followers.
So... good luck.
Aoi
1150 followers.
@DeredArtTooTsun
Look, even he knows he is a Tsundere. It’s a small victory getting him to acknowledge that, let alone use it to brand himself here.
But god, he’s the man I’m most jealous of on Tumblr.
PERFECT BULLET JOURNALS AND SKETCHES.
Got the spreads that literally define ‘aesthetic’, a perfect lineup of art materials even with pencils that have their numbers faded, and somehow, the emotions can pass through the paper and screen.
Even does tutorials on perspectives, positions with cute annotations. Just don’t praise them for being adorable though and focus on improving your skills, dummy.
Ironically though, it’s his mindless vents that get the most number of notes.
It helps that the pics include him, a very cute... I mean... manly boy screaming at very, very hot men.
A bit baffled but whatever it takes to get commissions. 
That’s right, he takes them. At least there is a back-up option should the restaurant ever go out of business. 
Spoiler Alert: Still doesn’t get paid as much. People, have you seen the number of talented artists here? Aoi might be in the rankings but it’s still hard attracting business.
Support your fandom artists, everyone!
Ginnojo
1000 followers. Just nice.
Ginnojoz
Poor grandpa didn’t intend to put that extra ‘z’ letter, it was a typo because scales don’t get along with haptic touch. 
And unfortunately, doesn’t understand how to change it. 
Once, he was huge on Vine before it died. The end of an era that he has to witness again. RIP.
Gin-Gin, it is RIGHT. THERE.
Expect to find his super short self-defence videos and Book Club Readings on YouTube.
Girls actually appreciate his instructions and attempts to provide help even if they are alone. 
He did try to respond to the nice ones and actually succeeds. 
It’s always easier getting to know the language of women when you don’t really see/touch them.
A deep baritone is perfect for some sexy excerpt of a historical novel... 
Until he corrects the setting.
In fact, he sometimes rage-quits and rewrites it. 
Unlike Kuya, him doing those established ideas actually catches on. 
Yura and Gaku
1500 followers.
MelodyandTheBeat. 
... Tik-tokers. Tik-Tok people? 
WTH do you call them?
As you can see, they are the most popular since it’s combined stardom.
Look, their covers and music mixes are beautiful.
They always have their own version that somehow combines traditional Japanese music... with k-pop.
And of course, food porn. 
Just be grateful there isn’t that awful squelching sound you hear when you consume jelly or the breaking of chilli seeds. 
Listen, I usually separate them because it’s never nice to be grouped as having the same activity as your twin. 
But in this case, being both equally beautiful AND talented sells their uploads. 
Even the cringy ones made because Yura is such a Luddite. 
Like just turning his head and being amazed his hair can turn so many colours, being impressed with each tilt until he gets to a black shade. 
Suddenly hurls the phone away. Gee, wonder why? Guess black isn’t the new... black for him?
Gaku sometimes even introduces new filters he created based on Yura’s random requests that strangely get circulated on the site. 
Oji
550 followers all know Oji-Sanz
Unlike Ginnojo, he deliberately adds the ‘z’ letter to sound cool.
You wanna know what’s worse? 
He actually uses Facebook. 
Aoi decides to give up on him. Nobody blames the poor student.
It’s apparently some old form of social media? Never used it, no sirree. 
Always changing his relationship status but at the end of the day, he’s single and ready... 
To post about all the lovely ladies destined to enter his restaurant. 
He thinks it’s great publicity. 
It really isn’t but one good thing about Oji is he includes EVERYONE.
This man respects his customers and always helps advertise their wares, especially if their connections lead to more resources. 
And less grocery shopping on his part.
Does post the recipes he and Aoi created but will never use because the Milk Hall had a certain style to follow.
Officially makes Aoi his son... on Facebook at least. 
Aoi now tolerates the account. 
Barely. 
Toichiro Yuri
WhatheMeSay has 1231 followers! 
In your face @CapitalKayKay and @NevermorebutSnore!!
You know, I’m so glad that there aren’t any users with those names because I’d be so scared of accidentally tagging them.
Also, geddit? Because... What the fox say? 
Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding... yeah, I’ll stop.
Pinterest Guy. And actually does spend on his ‘hobby’ to show off to everyone.
It does boost you and your father’s sales so there is nothing to complain about. 
His boards are always alliterated just to sound super catchy and it works so long as he gets the right emoji. 
Kabuki plays better be promoted or else.
Filled with candid pictures of his victims all taken at different angles you didn’t know were possible and in varying degrees of hilariously misunderstood positions.
He even supplies a donation link, heavily leveraged by his followers, since there are incentives tied to it like early access.
A bit suspicious the photos look like cropped out parts from Koga’s posts and some of the text resembles Kuya’s... er... wisdom?
He takes an unholy amount of selfies when he thinks no one is looking and so they are always surprised upon finding them on the Selfie Board. 
There is a locked board that no one can access, even his followers who are his comrades in real life. 
It’s actually just one picture in there. 
It’s you smiling and giggling at a joke of his. Not even you know it’s been taken. Guess he is as soft as his fur, eh? He better come out soon or else.
Kuro
Kuroruohtumbling
Ginnojo is unfortunately just old enough to have grown up with Scooby-Doo to understand the reference.
Snapchat, like a snapping snake! Hiss!
Unironically loves the puppy face.
Ok, but the glimpses of his stunts help show snippets of the circus life. 
He and his whole troupe family will even don costumes best suited for certain filters.
Sometimes ropes in Ginnojo... and by sometimes, I mean enough for everyone to start wondering if the stoic man is part of the act. 
To be fair, he randomly hugs people and ranks them here.
You, of course, were number 1. 
Now, if only he didn’t use the bloody song to announce it but you forgive him.
Maybe even risks revealing his ayakashi form before deleting the message to you.
Loves making international fans and learning various languages through each post, sort of like flashcards but animated and more fun!
And with 1200 followers, he might become a polyglot like Koga.
Shizuki 
Everyone bans him from creating one. 
Because they know the power of his roasts is too great. 
Little do they know he goes undercover. 
Underground.
And under their noses.
That’s right. His rant town on... MySpace. 
Unapologetically uses a good chunk of his salary from serving the House of Yuri just to get nifty themes that help with the whole burning process. 
Look, there’s a reason he and Oji are friends. 
This is why. 
Their taste in women seems fine but we really have got to do something about their affinity towards DEAD PLACES.
To be fair, he made the whole thing drunk but that doesn’t mean he should maintain it SOBER.
He just feels that it is a waste of space if he doesn’t utilize it. 
And it also becomes kind of cathartic. From the intrusive hugs to his master and Sir Gaku irking each other to no end, he needs it. 
Zero followers... but only because it’s super private. 
It becomes 1 the moment you jokingly create an account. 
61 notes · View notes
neshabeingchildish · 5 years
Text
Poly Wanna?
A/N: So, I had some different ideas rushing through my head of who and how I wanted these characters to be. They may start in a place that you would not expect or can’t imagine, but just keep in mind that I try to write things a little differently each incarnation of a fic and hopefully nobody checks out within the first few paragraphs. Gimme a chance. It’s delicate content, and I promise I’m trying to do their relationship justice, not just write some trash that throws them all together. I will say that this may be the most adult content of all the content that I bring into this fandom, but STILL no sm*t, okay? Will definitely mention some things that take and have taken place. Enjoy, and let me know how you feel, unless you hate it. Then, Chile stop reading and go. I don’t wanna waste neither of our time with that situation.
And just to tag the folk who initially expressed interest the first time, and lemme tell y’all… This tagging was a little difficult for me, so I shalln’t be doing it again, I don’t believe. You ain’t gotta read it, either. I just wanted to extend the invite for anybody who might have been interested: @adorkable-blackgirl  @chenoahchantel @cactus-con @up-the-tube @riebellion  @itsyaapollochild @oof–musicals @lesbian-so-what @woahjusttakeiteasy-man @meadowstryingtobepretty @imma-sensitive-btch @okaygal21 @midernacht @divinereign4ever @xoxoemille @starry-nightschool
Plot: Pansexual Playboy Henry Hart finally decides to settle down, with his two best friends, Jasper & Charlotte. Each have a history with him and a present with each other, and he simply can’t let either of them go… Not this time around.
01. Reality Bites
Charlotte had just moved the last of her things into Jasper’s apartment and was not even the least bit interested in trying to unpack, yet. She had packed two all encompassing luggage bags with all of her necessities to live out of for a moment, just in case it didn’t work out wonderfully and she had to abort this mission. In the meantime, the beginning of their little life together was at least cute. Jasper had cozy surroundings. His parents didn’t like for him to have things growing up, so he was one of those people who was satisfied with less. But… Charlotte was used to high quality and high maintenance, so she would definitely be turning this place around, if they lasted.
She was having some trouble getting on her feet. It wasn’t that she wasn’t qualified to do things. She definitely was. She went to school. She got degrees. She applied for jobs. She worked them. The thing was that she had this bad habit of putting in less effort than the company wanted. A lot of productivity rules were just busy work and programming. She only wanted to do what was necessary to get her work done. Bosses hated her for that. She was constantly getting fired and had gotten to the point where her parents were sick of it and forced her to get out of their place. “You could always go back to the Man Cave,” Jasper had suggested. Yeah, right. Where Henry was? 
He was part of the problem. She had put so much into him, into them and he simply moved on as soon as it got a little bit difficult, as was his romance method of operation. After that, she wondered why even try to hard when you could simply to whatever you had to and get good results. To be fair and honest, had she thought more about it, she might have realized that what she was actually experiencing was heartbreak and depression. But, she thought that she was just tired of people taking advantage of her.
Jasper, on the other hand had been doing fine. He wasn’t doing great, but he was at least working regularly and was able to afford to take care of himself. Then again, he didn’t eat healthy, keep groceries stocked, or have the best products in the place. In fact, at the moment, he had wine on the kitchen counter, half a bag of tortilla chips in the pantry, and one shelf of condiments on the door of the fridge, with beer on the top rack. So… He didn’t have himself together, but he did have working water, electricity, a vehicle, a home… stuff that she was lacking on because she couldn’t be happy in any career path she had tried, thus far.
But, they found each other again, after some time apart and some distance. Their friendship faltered slightly when he admitted to her some years ago (some months after she and Henry were over) that he and Henry were together. WTF? She didn’t know what part of bro-code,girl code… (friendship? code) was being violated by that relationship, but she felt in her bones that it was betrayal and so, she was good on him. She was good on him a couple of years later when he apologized and told her that karma had caught up to him, because Henry had broken things off. She was good on him up until she came into this bar to meet up with a friend for a promotion celebration and he was serving drinks and let her drink for free. 
It became her thing. She certainly wasn’t able to buy her own drinks, not regularly, anyway, and she’d forgotten how good of a listener Jasper was. She could complain about her problems and drink them away, and she had a good listener available who wasn’t going to take advantage of her if she got too drunk. After a while, it started being hanging out socially, then talking on the phone, texting, social media and finally, she began spending nights. 
They didn’t put any label on things. Labels made Charlotte nervous and Jasper was simply in a headspace where he just wanted to try to enjoy life, with or without someone in it, but it was wonderful to have somebody in it that he had known for so long. It was also good to know her in this new way.
By the time that she was moving in and looking for another job, they had been seeing each other for five months. That was also around the time that Henry called about his opportunity to be on a reality tv show. He called Jasper, not Charlotte, but upon learning that they were together, invited her along, as well. The last thing that she wanted to do was see Henry, but she also didn’t trust him around her Jasper, so she went along just to feel him out. 
Whenever they got to the place, Junk N Stuff was gone, as were several of the neighbors to it and now there was this brownstone and Charlotte was confused, but Jasper went right inside, like he’d been here before. There was a doorman there that looked familiar to Charlotte, but she didn’t know why. “Hey, Gooch. What’s up?”
“Gooch?” She repeated and took a look at the guy. He did look like the Gooch she remembered, but he was much younger. “Wait, did Schwoz find some kind of way to reverse aging or something?”
Jasper laughed and said, “It’s Gooba’s son. Finding out about him was one of the reasons he left. Anyway, we can talk about that later.” Gooch’s son was staring at Charlotte. He looked a little bit younger than them, but not so much that he wouldn’t have been a full kid whenever they initially worked with Gooch. Anyway, she smiled politely and kept following Jasper. 
“How long has this been here?” She wondered.
“Couple years.”
“It’s conspicuous. What does Henry even do that people would reasonably believe that he could have this built and live here?” She wondered.
“You… really have chosen to fully avoid him, huh?” Jasper asked.
“He’s the worst. I don’t need that kind of energy. Mine already sucks.” Whenever they entered the place that she guessed was Henry’s she quickly had that confirmed by the huge, wall sized painting of himself, nude, but covered gingerly with flowers, in a flower crown with flowers what, falling from the sky? She sighed at the painting, rolled her eyes and they followed his voice. 
“Well, I don’t have the time for that type of contract, Levi! I’m about to be in talks for my new show…” He noticed them and smiled, waving them inside, “And I have guests arriving now. No, not clients. I told you, I don’t have appointments today. Look, just fix it. I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up and turned around, “Char!” He said, excitedly and rushed to hug her and pick her up from the ground. “You look gorgeous. I see your teeth are still perfect and you’ve let your hair and skin join the perfection club, as well.”
“They always were, but thanks for noticing.” She blushed and looked at the ground as Henry went to hug Jasper, too. 
“And you! Buddy… You gonna cut the beers, or nah?”
“Char’s fine with the beer belly.”
“It’s not a beer belly,” she cut in. “He’s always been a little bit gooey.”
“He wasn’t with me,” Henry said and gave Jasper a smile that said that he was thinking of those days, or nights, or… whatever. 
Charlotte stepped in between them and reminded him, “Well, he isn’t with you.”
“Right! The two of you, now. So… That’s interesting. Unless both of you have changed drastically, I never would have pegged you two to be sexually compatible.”
“What, are you a professional sexual compatibility… person?” Charlotte asked.
Henry smiled and corrected her, “Liscensed sex therapist, with special focus on sex positive therapy.” She sighed. Of COURSE, he’d get a degree on sex. “Don’t look like that. My work is very important! I help save marriages. I help people not hate themselves for being normal. What kind of fancy schmancy science is keeping Charlotte Page’s attention these days.”
“The kind where I bring drinks to tables until I get back into another lab.”
“Her bad attitude gets her fired a lot,” Jasper said.
“Not my bad attitude. Corporations’ insistence on overworking people who know better than to allow themselves to be used,” she corrected.
“Having a money issue?” Henry wondered.
“I haven’t found the right lab yet, that is it,” she insisted.
“Okay. Well, if, while you’re looking, you don’t mind having a camera or two pointed in your face, I want to invite you two to be a part of the cast for my new reality show adventure.”
“How the heck are you gonna have a reality show whenever half of your life is a secret?” Charlotte wondered. “Wait… Are you no longer Swellview’s hero? Because, I will definitely work in the Man Cave if you’re not gonna be there.”
“I am the new hero man of Swellview. Captain Man is still working, because he is indestructible and not super old yet. But, yes, we are partners.”
“Are you Man Danger?” Charlotte asked.
“He’s Dr. FeelGood,” Jasper said. 
“MISTER FeelGood. Dr. Feel Good is copywritten.”
“Both are corny,” Charlotte said.
“You’re a waitress who has like seven degrees,” Henry said.
“Ouch,” she replied. 
“To answer the question you asked before the cascade of shade that you threw me, I’m gonna do the show with production that knows that I’m Mister FeelGood, so they will never record or release anything that has me working in that way, because they work for me.” Charlotte raised her hand. “Yes?”
“So… Was Man Danger unavailable in the superhero names database, Danger just too vague? Captain Danger too much like Captain Man? Like… what possessed you to go to Mister FeelGood?” 
Henry smiled and rolled his eyes then pointed to Jasper, “You in?”
“In? Like… What is the show even about? Just following you around and recording all of your life when you aren’t fighting crime?”
“It… Is about me coming out of the shadow of all of my Swellview celebrity friends and trying to become a Swellview celebrity, in my own rite.”
“Swellview has celebrities?” Charlotte wondered.
“Whenever I go places, people still say things to me like, “Hey - you used to be friends with that science girl, Charlotte. Whatever happened to her? Or, hey - do you ever still talk to Jasper Dunlop? It was so cool that he was a real hero, much like Kid Danger. I thought WAS Kid Danger, at some point! Or, what’s happened to the guy who used to own that junk shop? He doesn’t get voted for as the most handsome man in Swellview anymore. Did he die?” Charlotte and Jasper were both laughing and leaning on each other. Henry said, “I have my own private practice. I help people in my daily life and I’m a superhero. I would like to be seen as something other than the guy who’s dated TWO girls from Kids in the Woods.”
“OH MY GOD!” Charlotte said and cackled.
“I totally forgot about that! And I just had spa day with them last month!” Jasper said.
“With Bianca and Chloe?” Henry wondered.
“Yep. They started taking me with them after you and I broke up. There’s a Henry Hartbreak Plan, so you’re definitely not riding on just our forgotten celebrity alone.”
“A Henry Hartbreak Plan?” Charlotte repeated.
“It’s a boost of vitamins and painkillers, a punching bag workout set to music, a shower. massage, detox, and a long snuggly nap. The spa owner has some history with Hen, too.”
Henry sighed and pointed at finger at Jasper, “That was mostly in her head!”
“That spa day sounds valuable. You didn’t tell me about all that. You just said Girls Day with the Hartbroken Club.”
“Come next time,” Jasper said. 
Henry watched the two of them talking. They were both still extremely attractive and each had that lovers’ glow with each other. It made him miss them, both. He missed their friendships and he missed being with them. Of course, those were two separate relationships, but he missed those relationships. He had never had anyone like either of them before. He thought that he would never get over Jasper and still wasn’t, but the surprise of seeing Char again, and her being even more perfect than he’d remembered… He was unsure of how he had ever gotten over her. Looking at them both right now, he realized that he hadn’t. He just thought that he had. “It’s only a thousand dollars per episode for this first season, if it even goes beyond that, but…”
“I’m in,” Charlotte said.
“I could use an extra couple of thousand, as well,” Jasper said.
“Cool… Why don’t you let Bianca and Chloe know. Of course, everyone will have to speak with my production team on camera to see what they think, but… I believe that they’d like to have all of the components of my celebrity associations for this thing.”
“So, does that mean that Piper is involved?” Charlotte wondered.
“We can’t really pay Piper to be involved, but she did tell me that if the show makes waves, then we’ll talk…” He was barely done with his comment and Charlotte was laughing at him. “She told me that you two still talk, though. She didn’t give me your number.”
“I girl coded her not to years ago, when I changed it,” Charlotte said. 
“My assistant Levi will need it, to let you know about appointments and stuff.”
“It’s cut off. Just call Jasper. We live together,” she said with a shrug.
“You live together? It’s… that serious?” he wondered, a little bit heartbroken, though he wasn’t sure from which one, but leaning towards both.
“I mean… It’s going great,” Jasper said and wrapped an arm around Charlotte.
Henry nodded, and blinked away the sadness that he felt might show in his eyes. “Well, congrats on that. You two deserve to be happy, more than anybody else that I know.” He reached forward to pull both of them into a hug. Jasper returned it, but Charlotte froze up, and he noticed that she’d done so earlier too. He pulled back and looked at the two of them. They clung to each other as they both fought to tear their eyes away from Henry’s face, so neither of them had seen their reactions to him, but he had seen both. “Later,” they said. Henry smiled and saw them out. So, they were in for the show at least. He hoped that the cameras wouldn’t catch too much of all of that emotion that was floating through the room.
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fangirl-skeleton · 6 years
Text
How Do You Say ‘I Love You?’
A/N: So I've never actually written for a ship before. They've all been reader inserts, so bear with me.
Also idk if I'm actually going to make this into a series, every time I do I end up giving up, so I'm not going to make any commitments this time. And I'm sorry if I kinda shoved a bunch of different tropes into this one chapter.
But I had the idea for this and I had to write it. So here you go!
(This is based off of the song 'If I Could Tell Her' from Dear Evan Hansen btw. Virgil's lines are underlined in that song for your convenience.)
(Oh also this kinda came out angstier than I originally intended, I promise it's not too bad and the fluff outweighs it, but it does kinda have some angst mentioned.)
Warning: Mentions of anxiety (wow shocking), kinda angsty, repression, suggestive jokes I guess?
Word count: 2,683
It was just after 5 pm, and while the rest of the cast and crew of his schools production had left, Virgil Grey remained behind to continue working on the set. Technically, he wasn't supposed to be there after school without teacher supervision, but since he was a senior and in charge of the painting of the set, the staff of the school had decided to turn a blind eye.
Virgil had worked on the stage crew every year since he was a freshman. As much as he loved it, to be honest he had always wanted to be a part of the cast. Unfortunately, he had always been too anxious to even bring himself to audition, and he always regretted it afterwards. It wasn't exactly a fun cycle to be stuck in, but this was the last production before he graduated, meaning he had just let his last opportunity to break out of that cycle pass him by.
He wondered how Roman did it. Roman Prince, his boyfriend of four months, never seemed to have an issue with putting himself out there. On the student council, theatre star, talented singer and musician, Spanish Language captain. He was the lead in the production for the second year running, playing Evan Hansen. It was almost frightening how Roman was so different from his character, and yet he played him so well.
Virgil was amazed at the way that other people's words never seemed to get to him, but there was always that part of him who was a little jealous; he thought as he continued packing up paint cans and brushes into a cuboard below the stage. While he was doing that, something caught his eye. The Dear Evan Hansen CD that they had used in rehearsals before they had found somebody to play the piano accompaniment. He picked it up, remembering how the CD player was still somewhere in the wings of the stage. Maybe he couldn't bring himself to sing in front of everybody, but he just wanted to get up on that stage at least once before he graduated. Nobody else was here.
Nervous but excited, Virgil climbed back up the stairs to the wings of the stage. Grabbing the CD player and plugging it in just off to the side, his mind and heart were racing. He had remembered to lock the doors, right? Since the school was mostly empty of students, there hadn't been a reason to leave them open.
Taking a deep breath, he hit play on the second track, slowly stepping to the middle of the stage as the gentle piano began to play. The words were coming. He breathed out, letting his nerves ease up, and allowing him to lose himself in the song.
I've learned to slam on the breaks Before I've even turned the key. Before I make the mistake, Before I lead with the worst of me.
The first few lines rang out through the hall quieter than he meant them to. Somebody could hear, he thought, before pushing it to the back of his mind. The doors were locked and the windows were too high up to see through. Even if they did hear, how would anybody know that it was him?
Give them no reason to stare. No slipping up if you slip away. So I've got nothing to share, No I've got nothing to say.
Step out, step out of the sun If you keep getting burned. Step out, step out of the sun, Because you've learned,because you've learned.
He took one more deep breath in, letting the song completely take him over.
On the outside always looking in Will I ever be more than I've always been? Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass. I'm waving through a window.
I try to speak but nobody can hear So I sit around for an answer to appear, While I'm watch, watch, watching people pass. Waving through a window.
Can anybody see? Is anybody waving back at me?
Suddenly Virgil heard footsteps from the wings of the stage. His heart leapt, as he quickly shut the music off, and his mind started running through places to disappear, before none other than Roman stepped out, clapping slowly, a huge smile on his face.
"Hey, Roman. I- uh..." Virgil stuttered. "I didn't know anybody was still here."
Roman walked closer to him. "I didn't know you could sing like that." He grinned. Virgil blushed. "Really, you sound great."
"You think?" Virgil replied sheepishly, brushing his hair out of his face.
"Yeah, you're way better than some of the people in the production." Roman said, taking both of the shorter boys hands in his.
"Thanks." Virgil replied, not really knowing what else to say. "What are you doing here so late?"
Roman shrugged. "I realized my jacket wasn't in my locker. I think I left it here somewhere after rehearsal."
Virgil just then noticed that Roman wasn't wearing his bomber jacket, which didn't happen often at school. White, with gold around the sleeves and collar. Roman wore it everywhere, but now he just stood there in a red t-shirt.
"Oh, I haven't seen it anywhere, but I can help you look." Virgil offered.
"You're not busy?"
Virgil shook his head. "Just packed up. Wait, how did you get in here anyway?"
Roman laughed. "You left the back door unlocked."
Virgil grimaced. "Right."
After quickly fixing that, the two headed into one of the wings to look for the jacket.
"Where did you actually leave it?" Virgil asked, checking one of the low shelves where people usually left spare props and clothes.
"On there, but I think somebody might've moved it." Roman pointed to an empty table.
Virgil walked over to the table, ducking down to look under it. "Oh, here it is." He pulled it out by the sleeve, but slipped on a random chord when he tried to stand back up. "Whoa!"
He felt Roman catch him from behind before he could fall, one arm around his waist, the other around his shoulders. He was looking straight up at Roman, who was grinning stupidly.
"Hey there." Roman smirked. "You okay?"
"I-I'm fine." Virgil assured him. "Did you like, plan that or something? Not that I'm really complaining..."
Roman laughed. "I did not plan anything, I guess that fate keeps throwing us together."
"Well preferably not in a literal sense next time." Virgil said. "Here."
He unwrapped himself from Roman's arms and pulled the jacket over the taller boys shoulders. Roman put the sleeves on, and Virgil fixed the collar, before gently pulling Roman forward into a soft kiss. Roman automatically wrapped his arms around Virgil's waist, before Virgil pulled away and wandered over to perch on the edge of the table.
"So, how's the rehearsal going?" He asked.
Roman walked over to where Virgil was sitting, wrapping his arms around the back of his neck. Virgil lazily placed his legs around either side of Romans, bolder than he would normally be at school since he was confident that nobody else was there. "It's going well, I suppose. I don't know."
Virgil cocked his head. "Something wrong?"
Roman sighed. "It's just the scenes where Evan and Zoe are alone together. Don't get me wrong, Elle makes an incredible Zoe. It's just that apparently, my emotions aren't convincing enough."
"What do you mean, you're an amazing actor?" Virgil asked, though he had a feeling that he knew what Roman meant.
Virgil knew all too well why it was so hard for Roman to play a role where Virgil's twin sister, Elle, was playing his love interest. The two had been best friends throughout middle school, and were still super close, but a lot had happened within that time. During freshman year, before either of them had come out, the two had ended up dating. Awkwardly.
Even though most of their school had been convinced, the people close to them (Virgil, the rest of their families, their best friends Patton Foster and Logan Berry, Elle's now-girlfriend Audrey) had guessed what was going on long before either of them told anyone. Virgil had been at a different middle school than Roman and Elle, since he hand't been comfortable with such a big one, so he hadn't met Roman properly until high school. Virgil had had a crush on him since then, however, including the time in which he and Elle had dated.
For the past two years, the two had moved on like nothing had ever happened, but playing two roles like Evan and Zoe was surely bringing up memories of that period of repression that they'd both rather forget. It couldn't be easy.
"Apparently I don't look like I'm 'interested enough' in her. The director kept reminding me constantly. I understand where he was coming from, but he was getting rather harsh about it, I'd say." Roman looked so frustrated. He was trying to act like he was mad at the director, but Virgil could guess pretty easily that he was mad at himself.
"Ro, I'm sorry, I know that having to act like that with her again must be hard, even if it is just part of a play."
Roman laughed lightly. "To be honest, all I wanted was to turn around and tell him that he had the wrong Grey twin for that."
Virgil pulled him closer, Roman leaning down and gently kissing him on the forehead, making his cheeks turn bright red. "You're too charming, Princey."
"You flatter me."
Virgil laughed, before he had an idea. "You know, I could always help you practice. We could even try now, if you want?"
Roman looked surprised. "Really? Thank you, darling, that would be amazing! You know Zoe's lines for the scene?"
Virgil rolled his eyes, climbing up from where he sat, but keeping hold of Roman's hands. "Trust me, I know it too well. Elle never stops practicing. Our rooms are right next to each other, and the walls are stupidly thin."
Roman smirked. "Thin walls, hey? I better remember that for later on."
Virgil raised an eyebrow, though he was trying really hard not to blush. "Watch it." He warned Roman.
Roman held up his hands. "Fine, fine."
Virgil shook his head in laughter, pulling Roman along to the stage. "You're a weirdo."
"And you find it charming, my dear."
Virgil switched on the CD player, before joining Roman on the edge of the prop bed that was still on the stage. "Shut up."
He did.
The music started playing around them, and Virgil watched as Roman's mannerisms instantly switched over. He started fiddling with his hands, hunching over more, looking terrified and shy, just like his character.
"He thought you were awesome." He stuttered out the first line perfectly.
"He thought I was awesome? My brother?" Virgil tried his best to characterize Zoe the same way his sister did, although he knew that he was too nervous to focus on it. He knew how the song went. Was it too soon to say it? He wanted to, but he was terrified.
"Definitely." Roman continued.
"How?"
"Well..."
He said, there's nothing like your smile,
Sort of subtle, and perfect, and real.
Roman's voice was enchanting, and Virgil immediately felt some of his anxiousness slip away. The way that Roman was looking at him, he wished that he could just stare at him all day. Oh god, that sounded really creepy now that he thought about it.
He said, you never knew how wonderful that smile could make someone feel.
And he knew, whenever you get bored you scribble stars on the cuffs of your jeans.
And he noticed, that you still fill out those quizzes that they put in those teen magazines.
Roman grabbed both of Virgil's hands, pulling the two of them to their feet. This wasn't part of the directions, Virgil knew, but he guessed Roman was just doing his own thing this time.
But he kept it all inside his head,
What he saw, he left unsaid.
And though he wanted to, he couldn't talk to you,
He couldn't find a way,
But he would always say...
Roman dropped Virgil's hands, wrapping his arms around Virgil's shoulders like they were slow-dancing.
If I could tell her, tell her everything I see.
If I could tell her, how she's everything to me.
Roman let go, taking a couple of steps backwards as he sang.
But we're a million worlds apart,
And I don't know how I would even start.
If I could tell her...
If I could tell her...
Roman slowly paced back to Virgil, before they both sat back down on the edge of the bed.
"Did he say anything else?" Virgil spoke the lines clearly, but he was almost completely unaware of what he was saying, he was so caught up in the moment.
"A-about you?"
"NevermindIdon'treallycareanywa-"
"No no, he said so many things, I'm just trying to remember the best ones!"
He thought, you looked really pretty-
Or uh- It looked pretty cool when you put indigo streaks in your hair.
Roman gently brushed Virgil's purple bangs out of his face. It had never occurred to Virgil how well the lyrics fit the two of them until now, but oh my god. It was kind of insane. Roman quickly pulled Virgil to his feet again.
And he wondered how you learned to dance like all the rest of the world isn't there.
Roman spun him around slowly, grinning like an idiot.
But he kept it all inside his head,
What he saw, he left unsaid.
If I could tell her, tell her everything I see.
If I could tell her, how she's everything to me.
But we're a million worlds apart.
They both sang that line, stepping back slightly. Virgil wondered how he even managed to get it out, as the moment he was anticipating drew closer.
And I don't know how I could even start.
If I could tell her...
If I could tell her.
But what do you do when there's this great divide?
Roman stepped even further back across the stage.
He just seemed so far away...
And what do you do when the distance is too wide?
It's like I don't know anything...
And how do you say...
Virgil's breath hitched in his throat. Sure, they were acting, but they had never said it to each other before. This felt real, and the look in Roman's eyes just made it feel more real. One of pure adoration.
...I love you?
I love you.
He stepped closer every time he said it, and Virgil's heart beat faster.
I love you.
I love you.
Virgil wasn't supposed to join in on that line, he knew it. It just felt... right. Like all the air had been knocked out of him, in a good way. Roman couldn't keep the smile from his face, but somehow looked like he was on the verge of tears at the same time. They were close enough to join hands again, Roman resting their foreheads together gently. He sung the next part softly enough that even if they had been surrounded by people, Virgil still would have been the only one who heard it.
But we're a million worlds apart,
And I don't know how I would even start.
If I could tell her...
He pulled away, holding Virgil's face in his hands, looking at him like he was the whole world.
If I could...
He immediately pulled Virgil in to kiss him, like he had to do it before he heard whatever Virgil might say. It was clear that he was just as scared.
"I mean it Virgil." He whispered. "I love you."
Virgil felt like he was on top of the world, like his heart was going to explode. "I love you too, Roman."
They kissed again, this time Virgil pulling Roman in first. Afterwards, Virgil pulled himself close to Roman's chest, Roman resting his head on top of Virgil's.
"Kind of cheesy, isn't it, falling in love in the middle of a stage?" Virgil mumbled.
Roman smiled. "I suppose it is, my love."
A/N: Aaaahhhh okay I’ve never actually posted a fic directly to Tumblr before, it’s up on my Wattpad too (same username), please like or reblog if you enjoyed!
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Text
You’ve got a friend in me.
My life is sometimes like news papers. Everyday is another issue... Mostly the ones you'd never believe it without solid evidence to back it up.
This is one of those times that would have been in front pages if we were found out...
Before who I've brought to my home, here's what happened earlier before this scene.
I was almost done with my shift of paroling one of the more peaceful streets. My kids are at one of their friends house for a weekend sleep overs, one of the privileges they only get if they're being good and done all of their homework for the whole week. My friend and my love, Sheba and Kitty, are having a girls night with things like watching that new show called 'I love Lucy.' So they'll be out late and I will have my moment of a peaceful evening if I have the chance...
Then I bumped into am odd character who came out from a bookstore. He had a blue suit, yellow pants and shirt, a pink tie and a ribbon on the blue fedora hat, and a light brown pair of shoes. He concealed his face with his hat a bit to avoid his face being recognized, but something tells me that I saw him before... He then noticed another odd character that I can tell he's from a mafia, judging from his stripped black suit attire and his smug look when he knew he found him.
Like any policemen would do, I had to protect the citizens, even if you don't know them well. I took out my badge to show him I'm mean serious business when I told him he's making the little guy uncomfortable. He may have been an average height, but with my size, he can easily picked me up with both hands. He was about to tell me off until he noticed his target has a present box with red ribbon on it. We both looked at him confused when he placed his hand on the present box's lid and opened it. It was a spring trap knock out glove!
His grasp let go of me and then I was dragged off by my victim now saviour to an empty alley way when we were far away and out of sight. As much as I wanted to thank him, I can't accept this kind of reckless act even if it was to save me. But just before I opened my mouth, his hat fell off and his iconic bangs fell off his sides and his unusual hair style had popped up. My hands clamped me up before any sounds escapes...
Even if I rarely read the magazines, I knew very well who he is....
And then we're here in my parole car in front of my house, just like at the beginning of this story I'm about to tell you.
“Is this your home? It looks so neat!” He said. “This is a great hideout for the moment! My hotel was a bit crowded with some reporters for another movie star actor. If you haven't offered me that chance, my visit cover would have been blown and ended both in the front pages of Chicago AND California. Bendy would probably made something mean out of it... May we go in now?” He then sounded like a kid who just made a new friend and... I felt like I'm a peasant that's gonna show an aristocrat my 'humble little home.'
I mean, what can you expect if your new 'friend' is the son of one of the most successful animator and he himself is one, apart he's one of the faces of Hollywood and one of the V.I.P list invitees must haves.
I'm talking about Mickey 'Mouse' Disney... THE Mickey 'Mouse' Disney. Right. Next. to. me.
And he's waiting at my door steps eagerly for me... almost like hell is in my state of mind. At the same time, my mind is asking me not why he's here in this windy city, but out of any other places we could have gone that's not too opened in public, why is my home the first thing on his mind?!
Anyways, I decided not to ponder much and let him in. I knew that my house is nothing like an upper class one with it's own bar, multiple bathrooms and a huge staircase that lead to probably Rapunzel’s tower. It's got family pictures, some decent furniture and just basic, average things in a normal home...
But that doesn't faze him. “This is sooooo interesting. Are these your kids? Do you have sweets? Sorry, I'm having a bit of a sweet tooth. Is your whole family here or not yet? I would love to meet them personally!” He sped talked while he looked with enthusiasm at all of my past and present family photos like he's never seen them before.
Like my kids, I think I need to settle him down a bit before he's gonna break something by accident with the way he's going.
“How about we talk more about it in the dinning room? Although the only sweets I have were peanut butter cookies that were made last night.” I had to tell him.
He wasn't mad like I would expect from someone with his reputation. “Oh no, it's fine! I used to eat my stash of Halloween candies all year round when I was little and they're still good even for a day! I love peanut butter anyways! Hey! That would gave me an idea on my next baking goods at my studio. I will take notes on that!”
Funny... I don't remember anything him being a baking type... then again, as a bookworm myself, you can't judge a book by it's cover.
As I passed over a plate full of those peanut butter cookies and a tall glass of milk, he munched down on one and said with a mouthful. “Yummers! I don't know you make these, except the recipe, but these are good!” Thankfully I've thought about having some napkins in case if we spill some. He then realized on his manners and quickly apologized as he used the napkins. “Oopsies! I'm so sorry. I totally forgot my manners. I was having constantly lunches with business men and stars that I was constantly keeping my appearances up. It can be really stressful, but I know that not exactly a good excuse. I'm really being rude, aren't I?” He sounded like he really didn't mean it on purpose.
“Oh, no, it's alright. When we're tired, we do sometimes have some tendencies to let our guards down without realizing and I can relate as a detective and a single parent-uncle.” I do my detective work half of my time and the rest is mostly on my kids and close family. Yeah, I can relate as much if I was woofing down my meals like I'm late or something.
He was surprised on that last part. “Single parent-uncle? What... happened?” He then showed some concern like other people would have done whenever I told them that. I knew that it's not something that I can dodge anytime, but at least it can give them some understanding.
Few stories later...
“I see... I'm sorry for what had happened to your older sister and your father. I shouldn't have asked something like that.” He sadly replied. “No, it's alright. Sometimes talking about it to someone who would lend an ear helps. It's nothing new to me whenever I met parents of my nephew's friends and some. I'm pretty much used to it.” I assured him. I've dealt with many things in life at an early age that it didn't bother me as much and I can tell he's not faking his iconic personality.
“To be fair, I too lost someone. My mother. She passed away when I was about a year younger than yours are... She might have died from an illness, but I know that feeling and what you've been going through at the time.” He said truthfully like from his heart.
“I appreciate your compassion, but we're alright now. We did had one of my uncles to come over to watch over us while I graduated and gone through the police academy training until I got the job and can financially support ourselves. I also had a few close friends who supported me as well, so it's not so bad when times get a bit rough at times. Really, we're doing great so far.” I assured him. I knew it's never easy in life, but I'm not interested to complain at every problem in my way and be over dramatic. If I want that, I'll go to one of the Broadway theaters.
It seems that I cheered him up a bit. “Well, at least you got them like I have mine. They looked similar to you and the other man from the older portraits, aren't they?” I nodded. “That's true. We mostly take from my father... except...”
“Except?” He tilted his head in curiosity. “They have emerald green eyes and I... I have my mother's eyes. They're a bit unique and I'm the only one who has them.” As much as I hate liars, I'm not even good as one. I was raised with honesty, unlike my cousin...
“Really? I think they looks so cool! I bet that golden color would make my big brother jealous!” Mickey complimented me. That IS a surprise for me. Nobody else had ever said that except my girl and friends... “Cool? Jealous? But... aren't they a bit.... odd?”
“No way! I think it's very unique and they do compliment your looks! I always think being different is a great trait. I mean, there's nothing wrong with wanting to be like everybody, but how do we stand apart if we want to be special? In a good way, of course.” He said with big sparkling eyes. I knew that he's known to be a positive person, but I didn't think he'd still be one when we're alone.
“I appreciate your compliment, but I've always been picked on because of these. It had died down as I grew older, but sometimes I get some odd glances at me.”
“That I can relate.” He took a sip from his cup of milk. “I used to be teased at my elementary school because I had natural curl buns.” He patted his right hair bun to imply.
“You? But didn't you used to be a child star? I remembered you in one of those cereal and juice commercials when I was younger. Many of my classmates would have begged their parents and have whatever you'd be having.” Normally, if I had someone in my class is somewhat similar to him, I'd be really impressed and wanted to try the same thing.
“Trust me, it's not that simple from my first experiences.” I raised an eyebrow at that. “From one side, in the commercials stand point, the products were either a hit or a miss. The cereals weren't as edible as it was, even with the milk and the last juice promotion that I tried, I ended up in a hospital for almost three days.” I gagged. I did had bad taste testing before, but I didn't expect someone like him to be any different. “Even if I DID had some success, there are still some who's still didn't like me. One time, there was a bunch of older kids ganged up and beat me. They even took my new drawing pad, colouring pencils and my new stuffed plush that my dad had gotten me.” I can see that he's not making this up as I heard this and felt a bit of anger from what happened to him at the time. “I'm... sorry. I didn't know you were that bullied at the time... Compared to mine, yours was so... worse.”
“Verbal or Physical, both are wrong. Yet, here we are.” He implied to both of us. “Me? I just pass on by along with some close friends and family. How did you ever do it?” I didn't think we'd have something in common. “Same as you. My brother was so mad when I arrived home to dad that day, he immediately knew who'd would do and got out the door. He came back two hours later with a bleeding nose and my stuff. What he did well... we did had to do explanations with the principals and we settled it peacefully. I promised.” I was surprised at that. His brother even got into to trouble for him?
Hey, that reminds me. I had to ask. “Your brother wouldn't be Oswald 'Lucky Rabbit' Disney? By any chance?”
From his expression, he looked like he was surprised from a birthday party. “You knew Ozzy! Where? How? And from who? I'm DYING to find out if people would know him as himself rather our family name or even me!” That attitude reminded me of my own when they're hyper for something... Normally, at a certain age they'd be more mature but then again, it could be a public image thing. Although, he seems he's being honest...
“Well... I've did occasionally picked up a magazine one time and er... I can only get so much on his interviews, clothing catalogs, his co-staring on a couple of movies including that movie 'Green Hornet,' his poster faces, his singing-!!!” I immediately clamped my mouth before I say another word. My face is probably red as a tomato and I think I might have creep him out. Please don't make a search warrant in my room for my memorabilia photos and clippings of him that I perfectly organized in a binder. Out of reach from my kids. Please.
“Why are you being shy for?” He seems that he's not bothered by the facts that I spoke. I stuttered a bit to make sense out of his unusual calm manor. “B-b-b-b-ut! Didn't I-i—i-I just... said something unpleasant?” I'm usually more mannered than this, what's wrong with me tonight? Overworked or is it because my guest is a celebrity? He shook his head. “No, I'm actually surprised that there IS someone who's a fan of him. Do you know what he used to respond to people who come up to him?” He then imitates his brother's voice and his cool and collected act. “Maximum of three questions. No betrayal. Immunity from prosecutions.” He then switched back to his self again. “It was one thing when I started out when they mentioned my dad, but whenever it was him, it's between him and me they wanted to know about more than himself.”
“I... I'm sorry. I thought he was pretty cool on his own.” I find he's more interesting to me...
“I'll be sure to let him know about it! He never shows it, but he really likes to be complimented!” He chuckles in content. I was a bit embarrassed, but I think I'm getting a bit warmed up around him. I can see why he's more likeable than what most people would have expected from a child star. He didn't mocked and look down at me, unlike a certain somebody I know.
I then felt a bit guilty for judging him a bit before. “I'm sorry...” He then tilted his head. “For what?”
“I... I thought you'd be more... well... I thought you'd be the opposite of what I expected. I don't like to judge too early, but I had a few experiences with wealthy types... I felt bad.” I admitted.
I was expecting an outburst but he was unexpectedly polite when he responded. “Don't worry about it. It happens all the time when I do interviews and charity parties. People would expect I'd be spoiled and rotten from what I was grown into, but I still kept my personality a positive one. I have a few close caring friends and family to thank for that.” I can safely say that he's not lying at all. He spoke the truth, ya reading, imaginary people from my mind!
“I'm glad you've understood and I appreciate your maturity. Not a lot of people at your age can be as mature as you can.”
“Trust me, I do act a bit silly at times, but my big brother usually helps me to keep my feet on the ground. He's one of the first to help me mature a bit, not just as a sibling instinct. I always did look up to him.”
I was surprised to hear that one from him. His personality and his brother's were a bit opposites of each others. “I know what you might be thinking! We both have WAY too many different personalities and stuff! Like our food interests for example! Me, I have a very high metabolism and I can eat almost anything. To be fair, I DO have to maintain a healthy diet so that I don't give a bad example to anyone especially the kids. My brother on the other hand, he's probably born without a sweet tooth. Even as a kid, he never really liked sweets except carrot baked goods. He's more on the health conscious side and he usually likes to make them home styled compared to high ends restaurants.” He said it in a detailed manner, smiling and thinking about him.
“He must be a much better chef than I am. I do occasionally cook, but I doubt I can achieved the same level as a five star chef.” I admitted another flaw about myself. “Oh, don't be! After hearing what you've been through, you're one of the admirable ones I wouldn't mind having a meal from! I'd be glad to help you out if ever we have another chance of encounter like this!” He beams his kindness from his signature smiles.
“I'm really thankful for your generosity. I wasn't asking for compliments..” I feel like I'm making a new friend since forever.
“I wished that... no, never mind.” He then suddenly felt sadden by something. I looked at what his eyes were diverted and I noticed that this morning news paper had a front page picture of Bendy. That's when it clicked in.
Again, I don't really follow on celebrity lifestyles, but I think anybody who lives around here or anywhere, KNEW that there's some 'unexplained' beefs with Bendy DeMon and Mickey Disney. I should have hid the papers away after I finished reading it... “I'm sorry! I should have thrown it away.” He puts his hand on mine when I reached it over. “No. It's alright. It's just between me and him.” He assured me forcing a small smile. I'd normally would have a thing or two to say about his 'true' character, but if it's gonna be public, I need hard evidence. ESPECIALLY in front of important figures like him.
“I knew he's always had hated me for many reasons, but I never knew how it all started... He wasn't like that when we first met as little as six... I remembered the first time we've visited here. I think it was some sort of a friendly visit of one animator director to another, but I did remembered him with his own cartoon plushie like I had mine we were both named after. I think we were a bit shy at each other at first.” He chuckled at that. “But after we both shared a big chocolate cupcake together, it was like we became friends. I think it was the only time he was really nice to me...” He sadly smiled.
I was a bit shocked. I can barely remembered what I did at that age, let alone Bendy HIMSELF being a 'nice' person. The only reason he can do charity works is so to keep the authorities out of his criminal business. Then again... the only information’s I got about him was that he was one of the elite five of the old Alfonso Mafia and the Leader of the New Alfonso mafia... His past is still a blur except for the Joey Drew Studio and it's history...
“I can still remember the times that I wanted to see him again, even when we're busy, I wanted to play with him. But after days came into years... I suddenly couldn't see him anymore. It was not until I was sixteen when I finally granted permission to visit here, with some exceptions.”
“Exceptions?” He nodded when I asked. “Yeah, I was given a few days, had to follow strict undercover rules and I had to bring someone I can trust. Last one was easy cause I had to bring my brother.” He playfully smiled on that.
“Upon arrival to the studio, it wasn't as well maintained as last time. At first I thought it was probably due to economic problems, but then I noticed that the owner wasn't the same one. It was his uncle who was running that place at the time... and I was in complete shock when I heard from him that our friend had ran away. We did our best to search him all over the city, but we never did.” He seems like he was deep in his thoughts. “It may be a bit cliche, but on the day we had to leave, I think I might have seen a glimpse of him from the taxi ride. It may have been a moment at a stop sign, but I think he was with someone who looks like Boris I believed he was named. Of course, it can be anyone...”
I really wanted to ask more about him and Bendy, but he seems like he's only having the fronts of his cruel personality...
“It wasn't until about two years back, when I heard about the 3rd Joey Drew Studio being re-opened and that I recognized that face too. I was so exited to meet him after all this time that I REALLY had to begged for a congratulation visit.”
“And... Then what happened?”
“Well... I was expecting like a warm welcome similar to what we had when we we're little. So upon arrival, I had to pick up one of the baked goods for a bakery with those chocolate cupcakes that we shared at that time...” He then went silent for a few seconds. “But he wasn't the same friend I used to know. When I arrived at his studio and we met face to face for the first time... He's changed. Not for the better. When I offered a package of the muffins so that we can share, he slapped them off and they all fell on the ground... That's nothing compared to what he told me on everything that had been wrong in his life and blames me on several things... It's not something that I want to discuss when it's ill mannered to speak about it... but they were hurtful. I'm still on to this day unknown on why he hated me so much.” I can tell he's holding more than sorrow in his eyes.
“Sorry, I didn't meant to bring an unpleasant subject.” He apologized. I need to think of a different subject. “How about your animations these days? You guys released a character based on your older brother from what I heard of.” He then lighten up a bit when I asked that. He told me an interesting story of the Lucky Rabbit and how he's actually returned to his Disney animation studio.
“...And that's how he returned to our studio.” He finished. “I can't believed that it happened at the party. I'm glad that Bendy didn't make more damage.” How did he even KNEW about it, I don't really cared much anymore. “I'm just glad that no one got hurt. My clothes can always be replaced, but I still stand on never selling or replacing that character to anyone.”
“That's one interesting decision for the future CEO of Disney Studios.” I smiled. He's not. Did I said something I shouldn't?
He noticed what I did. “I'm sorry. I knew you meant it as a compliment. But for me... I'm still not ready for such a position. Nothing like Bendy who's in charge of his own and we're the same age. Funny, eh?” He scratched his back head embarrassed.
“What? But I think your animations were pretty good! My kids loved them over Bendy's. Inky liked the new Oswald character and Winky still likes your cartoon counterpart character.” His cheeks were redden a bit “Aw, shucks! That's so nice of you guys! Even when there's more cartoon studios that does things differently from ours, that means a lot to us!”
He then finishes off the plate of cookies from the last one. “I always did love to draw. But I never had any intentions of taking over dad's studio until I was close to graduate. Many thought that I was coat tailing my way to the top and that I had it easy since I was his son.” He then took his last sip. “I don't wanna hear anyone telling me that ever again.” He glared down at his empty cup. “I wanted to prove that I'm capable of making beautiful animations without any influence from dad and I was just as competitive as any other artists I've met. I really took art classes seriously in my teens and I didn't stop until my wrists started to hurt so bad that I can barely use them for a few days... I know it may sound extremely ridiculous, but I wanted to prove that I'm capable of more than just a face of the family's business.”
“I can't say that I don't understand completely, but I do know that when I first started out, some people think I only did it because of my family were cops... My reasons was a bit cliche, but I really mean it when I wanted to protect the innocents.”
He smiled at that. “That's true. Which is why I wanted to be one of the bests, not just for bragging rights. I'm not gonna lie when I've applied to one of the strictest teacher when I wanted to challenged myself. The first lesson was so harsh that it took all of my strength NOT to cry in class. I did manage to understood on every single details not just for characters, but for the story settings, backgrounds, even choosing the colors were important! I do admit while I knew some things, there was somethings that I really needed if I wanted my animations to be a masterpiece apart from others one day.”
“Is that part of the reason why you're out here? Like, you're looking for something that you couldn't find back in California?” That would explain why he was out here, but couldn't he just ordered it?
“Actually, I was out here to meet an acquaintance of mine, which I wanted to respect his privacy to remain anonymous. I was stumbled upon that book shop I've come out by luck and greeted you and that thug guy. I guess today was a lucky day for both of us!” He sounded so optimistic when he knew that we almost got mugged earlier... I wished I can have some of his positive attitude sometimes so that life doesn't seemed so bad sometimes...
Wait! Speaking of earlier... What time is it? I glanced on the clock and realized at it was getting pretty late. “Oh, Ra! It's getting pretty late, even for you. I really need to drive you back to your hotel before anyone will report you missing. THEN they'll know you're here.” I got up and he did too while taking the plate and his glass. “Please, allow me.”
I was about to decline that he really didn't need to, but after passing me by, he really didn't mind putting away the dishes.
---Two weeks of newspapers later -----
Ever since that faithful encounter, I started to follow Mickey's lifestyle along with his brother's. Not just for gossips or anything alike, but I felt like I've understood him much better. I knew that I can't always relate to whatever it says on the interviews or headlines, but I do wanted to learn more about him, the REAL him and try to look from his perspectives.
I was having one of my rare day offs where the twins were again at a friend's house until evening and Kitty was out having her hair done. You know, the girl stuff. I was finishing the newspapers when I heard a knock on the door. I got up and went to see who it is, praying it's not someone that will tell me more unpleasant news than Bendy's 'special deliveries.'
Surprisingly, it was a delivery man who brought a special package for me. I was confused since I've never ordered anything or remembered to ordered something. When I had to sign the paper, I noticed a familiar logo and I then realized who really it was from.
Disney.
How? I wondered once the delivery guy was then on his way to his other deliveries. I decided to opened it up in my room in case of other unexpected arrivals came in and sees me with this. I carefully opened it up and as soon as I did, I saw two plushies. One was the cartoon Mickey and the other was cartoon Oswald. I noticed there was an enclosed envelope on top of them. I decided to read this one first. It said this following:
To my new friend, Felix.
I'm sorry that we didn't get the chance to talk more, but I wanted to say again thank you for what you did for me that day. I wanted to write that I've figured out your address by a stroke of luck when I noticed it on one of your letters that was out in the opened when you needed to get changed. I know that it may sounded that I might be too trusting, but I wanted to let you know that I wished to have a pen pal like you so that we can continue to talk more.
P.S. I've included a special card not only for the address, but also as a signature calling card if ever you needed help like you needed a new place to live for example. Ours will help pass our securities personnel without any fuss.
Write to you soon, pen pal!  Mickey Mouse Disney.
I was floored when he had written that. I was deeply touched, yet he really didn't have to do that! Public image or not, he is so kind. I looked at the stuffed toys again. I think they were meant for Inky and Winky respectively due to their colour preferences and characteristics.
This takes me back to when some of the people that were kind to us when we were having memorials at the funerals of when my uncles and aunts came for a visits with some gifts. I knew that they were being kind, but I don't want to spoil them too much.
Then again... I did needed a gift ideas for the twins birthday... but I felt like I'm cheating if I do!
I decided to put them in a safe place for now until I can decide later what I really should do with them. When I removed them, I noticed a picture frame-shaped covered over in a brown paper. I pealed off the first one and it was a stunning purple painting frame of a field of colorful pastel flowers on a hill and another. There was a forest on one side as to indicate it was from a natural side and it was painted in a nice sky blue color skies. I looked on the back to see it was for Kitty. I guess he remembered that detail, despite it was only once...
Guess we DO have another thing in common....
I then noticed another one like it underneath it. I set it aside to see that it is indeed another one, but this one is a different scene. This one had a black frame with the painting of the downtown streets of a city. It was around of an late night restaurant that had a waitress serving a man. It seems that it was taken from the outside of the restaurant cause I can see the streets and light on the side like I was standing out. I bet this is for Sheba... Yup. It's for Sheba.
If I never knew my friend, she wouldn't like the same taste as any other girls... Most of the time.
I then realized that there was one more item a the bottom. It may seems like another painted picture for me, possibly, but upon revealing it wasn't a painting. It was a photograph signed by Oswald! I immediately covered my free hand on my mouth to prevent my fan-boying squealing out! This is one of his best three piece suits and a super cool fedora that he wore in a magazine shoot for high brands. Oh my Anubis! He looks like Dean Martin and he signed 'To my fan, Felix. Oswald Disney.' He is just so.... AHHHHH! I never felt this happy in a long time! This is the coolest thing ever! None of my clippings of him can compare to this! Now for one final thing that was in here was a little card that was tucked to the frame. I opened it up to see that in case of emergency, they send their personal address along with all three Disney signatures from them like Mickey said it would. If ever I needed help...
I sighed in relief. It's been a while since anybody ever said that to me. I always did my best to stay strong, but it's a bit hard on my own sometimes. I'm very glad that I had a few close friends that helped me out in my hardest times before, now I felt like I have another friend that I can rely on if ever I needed an unexpected help in a sticky situation. I knew before that he was a famous person with a lot of benefits, but now I can see that there's more than his status and wealth from him. He's thoughtful, kind, generous and much more!
I decided to hid this back up note in a secret, safe place. I knew what he means and that he was being thoughtful, but I wanted to be a last resort of a thing. I hid it in a secret compartment from my violin case that I hid it very well from my nephews.
Long story short, they wanted to use one of my prized possessions other than playing music...
Speaking of the kids, they will arrive around supper and Kitty too. I think I'll prepare spaghetti and meatballs for tonight.
----Author’s notes------
I know that I’ve wrote a lot in Felix’s perspectives in my fanfics, but I just wanted to imagine possibilities of his close friends and future allies.
To start things off, I’ve had this theory before that Mickey is almost the exact counter-part of his animated cartoon character. He is optimistic and nice, but I was thinking that he also had that desire to be a bit more independent. Like he had that inferiority complex that because he was the son of Walt Disney, some people think he’s gonna have it easy and that he doesn’t need to do much. That would make him a bit more competitive and self improving on his animations. 
(PS: That is also one of the characteristics of a Scorpio! True story!) (He’s on the 19th of November, come on!)
The other Easter egg I wanted to throw in was the mention of The Green Hornet. It was originally from the black and white parts of a film back in the 40′s and then a colorful TV series in the 60′s. They then made a remake film back in 2011. Wink wink! Gadget ideas, Mars bar!
Also on a lighter note, if ever Mickey and Oswald wanted to do a song duo, they would be described as Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. One that’s a hit and popular and the other smooth and calm. That’s the kind of combo vibes I’m getting from.
So at the end of this, I really hope to see new canon characters that are on the good guys side. I don’t have anything against the new bad guys and stuff, in fact I’m a Disney Villain fan too, but I just wanted to see a new GOOD GUY character one day or soon. Not just as an OC for his AU. *Cough* Mine for example *Cough*
BBTIM AU and Humanized Characters belongs to Marini4.
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