#if ur reading this go like my last piece it was a challenge and im proud of it ok
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happy new year here’s some redraws of things from 2020-2021
#if ur reading this go like my last piece it was a challenge and im proud of it ok#ethoslab#zombiecleo#hermitcraft#mcyt#fanart#masondrawing
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with great power I [lee jeno]
summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.
pairing: lee jeno x reader
genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack
warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric
song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare
word count: 10.5k
a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee for beta reading <3
main masterlist // story masterlist
chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week
Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.
When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday.
And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.
In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00.
He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak.
He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.
[7:48 AM]
y/n: pssst
y/n: shithead
y/n: where r u ????
[7:49 AM]
y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know
jeno: …… i'm on the train
jeno: woke up late
y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR
y/n: LATE*
y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR
[7:50]
jeno: probably, yeah
jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY
y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday
y/n: [sent an attachment!]
[7:51 AM]
jeno: SHUT UP
jeno: you're not funny >:(
jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune
y/n: au contraire im hilarious
jeno: meanie :(
jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here
jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,
[7:52 AM]
y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear
y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh
y/n: also ur literally never late
y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill
y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine
Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid.
The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me.
Don’t be stupid.
Too late!
Thwip!
Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range.
Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.
Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life.
But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.
Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly.
[7:57 AM]
y/n: let me know when u get here !!!
No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.
The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took.
After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School.
[8:06 AM]
jeno: just did >:D
Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.”
He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”
“The Bachelor?”
“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”
“Ah. I see.”
“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”
“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”
He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation.
A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.
“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”
Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”
You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”
“I, uh… ran a little.”
You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”
“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”
The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement.
The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.
You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”
You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”
“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.”
He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon.
“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”
Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking.
"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored.
San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him.
You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you.
“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”
“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry.
“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.”
Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front.
“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”
He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since.
“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her.
“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.
You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today.
It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—
“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.
“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”
Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”
“I don’t like her, Yeeun.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“Hey! Jeno Lee!”
“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.
“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”
Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark, Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.
“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”
“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”
You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”
“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”
“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.
“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”
“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken.
“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”
“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”
Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”
Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.
“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”
The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.
“Fuck you, Huang.”
Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”
The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club.
"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.
"San Choi."
Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you.
"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"
"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."
Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."
"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."
Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."
“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.
You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”
The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”
Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”
If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.
The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice.
“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”
Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”
Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?”
Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.
As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled.
“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately.
“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”
You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”
“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”
You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?”
“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?”
You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”
Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.
“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.
“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”
“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’.
“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”
He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”
You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag.
“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.”
He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch.
Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy.
Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time.
Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord.
All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends.
"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"
Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"
"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"
"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."
You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?"
You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"
"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"
"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”
You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.
So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”
Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”
San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”
You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”
“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”
You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”
San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.
“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”
“Coming!” San yelled back.
“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”
The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”
Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”
You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”
“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”
You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!”
Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.
You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.
I want you to know now
Baby, it could go down
I don’t wanna talk about it
Baby, let’s just go now
The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.
When you talk right to me
You gon’ have to do me
Every time you think you’re leaving
You running back to me
You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months.
Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung.
He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung.
And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history.
Can we just talk? Can we just talk?
Talk about where we're goin'
Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts
Can't get what we want without knowin'
Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since.
You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything.
I've never felt like this before
I apologize if I'm movin' too far
Can we just talk? Can we just talk?
Figure out where we're goin'...
As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.
The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration.
Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to.
It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel.
Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.
When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face.
He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also.
To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college.
To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing.
Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.
“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!”
Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.
"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"
"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."
Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss.
That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either.
Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"
Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only.
This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters.
Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.
"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked.
"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."
Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"
"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."
Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.
“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.
“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”
“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”
“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”
Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.
“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—”
The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”
The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.
Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit.
Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.
"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here."
Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."
Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."
Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."
Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."
The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.
Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”
Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things.
“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”
“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”
“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”
“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”
Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”
Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”
Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”
“M-me, Mr. Park?”
Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.
“You don’t know who this is, right?”
Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”
Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious.
“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”
“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”
“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”
“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”
Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”
Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.
“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”
Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together.
“Perfect.”
They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.
After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.
Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things.
Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.
“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed.
Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.
“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”
“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?”
The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!”
Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.
“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.
"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”
“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”
“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”
“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”
Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”
Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”
Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”
Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.”
Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”
Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”
“Jeno?”
He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.
His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”
You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”
“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.”
You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."
"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."
"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."
Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."
Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.
"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."
But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"
He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out.
"So you left your keys."
Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."
You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry."
Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me."
Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change."
Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"
You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult. You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.
"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."
Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"
"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."
Jeno nodded. "This sucks."
"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"
Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest.
"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"
You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."
"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."
"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?"
Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."
Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."
He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"
"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year."
Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."
Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.
"Deal."
You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."
The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist.
On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.
Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether.
When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.
“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly.
“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed.
And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”
Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”
Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.
The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.
He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.
“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”
“Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”
“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”
“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”
Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”
“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.”
A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.
Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them.
“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”
“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was.
“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”
Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”
One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”
“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before.
“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”
Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”
The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”
Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”
“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped.
“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.
“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”
Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.
“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”
“Hand it over, then.”
That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.
“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”
In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him.
“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered.
“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”
“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”
Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came.
The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground.
The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”
“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!”
So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.
When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths.
Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault.
He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station.
As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could.
He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.
What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.
[8:36 PM]
y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)
“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.
The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.
After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.
His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”
You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up.
“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”
He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.
“Y/N, what happened?”
taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs @crescentjen
#kwritersworldnet#nct angst#nct x reader#jeno x reader#jeno angst#jeno fluff#nct au#jeno au#kpop scenarios#kpop angst#kpop imagines#nct dream x reader#lee jeno x reader#my writing
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Haunted Mansion
Fingers crossed this recap actually gets to see the light of day lmao
Thankful to you guys for being patient with me with the past malfunctions :)
All I have to say before we begin is GEORGE!!! and honestly just the line up y'all i'm sobbing it's so good
- Future :oooo and like near future :oooooo
- I almost forgot abt the transition screen it is still very poggers
- ofc we open to Ranboo and Tubbo being cute
- So Connor is just Connor??? Again??
- Love the obvious tension between Rash and Karl as it should be
- DREAMS (Francis) SKIN IM SCREAMING
- Connor canonically has a lot of friends in prison
- TECHNO WITH THE CRINGE
- Punz is a Chad "I do my fair share of sports" yes you sound like you know what you're talking abt
- GEORGE IS GREG LOLNERDDDD
- Of course "francis" would say "greg" is pretty cool smhh
- TUBBO AND RANBOO AS TWINS SUPREMACY
- Ash and Zach my beloveds
- Pork 'ems (porkums? porkims?) ... ah yes
- Techno really said "no <3"
- GUMP MY BELOVED
- TUBBO AND RANBOO ARE SO CUTE EVEN JUST IN THE BACKGROUND PLEASE
- Dream's character being a bitch transcends time <3
- "I wish I knew how to sit down" PLEASE
- They're so unhinged I love them
- Is this gonna lead to murder again...
- NOT THE SONIC JOKE KARL
- FRANCIS IS SO UNHINGED PLEASE don't be mean to Gump :(
- DANG GEORGE ROASTING DREAM AFTER HE CALLED U COOL
- G L A T T... guess he finally woke up
- "he smells of cigarettes..." "yea... and bad decisions"
- George 10/10 acting love to see it
- Schlatt canonically read the bible and now believes in capitalism
- MANTOPIA
- his hat is cute :((
- what is going on we're back to duck duck goose? WHERE IS THIS GOING KARL
- no.. it's not circle time.. it's bean time
- HOW DO U GET MICHEAL FROM RASH
- tubbo and ranboo move so in sync and it's so cute I- juyhtgrfed
- GEORGE IS STILL RUNNING
- "how the fuck do I stand up"
- Bitcoin is now canon, apparently
- Karl has no idea how stocks work and is just going with it and honestly what a mood-
- "I'm drinking in real life" "Can I have some" BBH UR NOT HELPING UR CASE WITH DRUNKBOYHALO
- Schlatt canonically is attracted to Greg
- "Why is he flirting with Greg that's just a terrible decision" WHY IS IT A TERRIBLE DECISION RANBOO WHY IS IT A TERRIBLE DECISION
- HOLY SHIT THAT BUILD-
- this thing is masssiiivvvvee, is it fr on the smp?? like how far out?? lmfao
- this place is rated 3.5 stars...
- I CANT GET OVER HOW CRAZY COOL THIS LOOKS WHAT THE HECK NONE OF THE OTHER MAPS LIKE MILDLY COMPARE
- "Hey, Mr. Schlatt" Sapnap ur so cute
- DREAM DONT ABUSE THE CHILDREN IN THIS LIFE TOO
- "one of you has to press my very special button" alright.. then...
- command block???
- NOT TUBBO CALLING SCHLATT SENILE
- "I hope it makes you go away" TECHNO PLEASE
- connor is gone?? crab rave??
- Yes Techno we can tell u tried ur best
- WHYD HE SAY IT LIKE THAT
- ofc francis would think Schlatt is awesome
- guess it's over now
- oooo a little thingy game challenge thing to light up some beacons :o
- DONT MAKE FUN OF THE HAT TECHNO IS BEST NEWSBOY
- "you handsome- you cute" Schlatt really be flirting with Francis and Greg all over the place
- a piece of dirt is equal to connor- Techno I-
- "my friends would never betray me" Techno u have way too much faith in these people
- "I miss Porkums" Tubbo is us
- Tubbo is RUNNING for them Haribos but could give two shits abt Connor ujyhtgrfe
- RASH GINRTHTJOH
- "should we kill francis" YEAH DO IT
- "eh it's fine we're all unstable sometimes" RANBOO PLEASE
- Schlatt was canonically picked last during dodgeball
- TUBBO LMFAO
- Gump "fell down the stairs"
- gump is immortal confirmed?
- SCHLATT WITH THE FLIRTING AGAIN
- not the lavender town theme oh god
- NOT THE STATISTICS AND DREAM SAYINH HES UP FOR THE TASK
- SCHLATT IS GONE CRAB RAVE
- "mY iMmErSiOn"
- ooo this bridge thingy is cool :oo
- WHYD HE SAY FRANCIS LIKE THAT
- "I recon they're dating or something" TUBBO PLEASE
- BBH is a real king, he just runs with all the awful things they make canon abt him
- THERES SO MANY EXPLOSIONS OMG
- George really heard Dream say he thought his screams were funny so now he does random stupid screams <3
- "wHoS tUbBo"
- Karl is regretting letting the whole Dteam be here at once
- no wonder it's 3.5 stars this place is DEADLY
- THE TWINS ARE SO CUTE
- "I think they have... anger issues"
- Schlatt is immortal..
#CONTINUING IN REBLOG WOO#We an hour in and they like aren't even a third done LMFAO#this is so chaotic#but actually fantastic#tw cursing#tales of the smp#spoilers#tales from the smp#tftsmp
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try again — a. ryuunosuke
SYNOPSIS | realizing nothing has changed between you and your ex, you thought it would be better if you two would just try again.
GENRE | ex to lovers!au, fluff, angst??
A/N | first piece for bsd omfg im shaking fr,,, takes place around dead apple time lmfao hhhhhh kyoka doesnt exist in this sooo ur ability is demon snow???? fuck i hate this so much lmfao also p.p.s this is my gif teehee ++ ty mal for beta-reading this HAHAHHA i will now [rest] after posting this cs i am: shy good day
“hurry up and go!” you hissed at atsushi who was struggling to turn off the safety on his gun while you were trying to fend off demon snow. atsushi lets out a yelp as he fumbles with his gun. before atsushi could pull the trigger, demon snow was shoved away by no one other than your ex, akutagawa ryuunosuke.
akutagawa stands up from the ground with a huff. “akutagawa!” atsushi exclaims, aiming his gun towards the boy. akutagawa clears his throat, making brief eye contact with you. you stared at him with an uneasy expression on your face. it has been awhile since you last saw the boy you once loved.
“what a pathetic weapon” akutagawa deadpans, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. “no pea shooter is going to have an effect on her” he emphasizes the last word, her, motioning to rashomon who seemed to have a mind of its own just like demon snow. just as rashomon struts in, you felt demon snow’s presence behind you.
before anyone could attack, the weretiger has pounced on rashomon, sending it to the other side of the street. “how amusing.” akutagawa comments, “let’s see who comes out on top” an amused smile on his face watching his ability take on his proclaimed enemy’s ability.
“now isn’t the time for that!” atsushi interjects. as the two was about to start bickering in the middle of an ability battle, demon snow takes this chance to make a move on you. you easily blocked her katana with your knife just in time.
“there should be a secret passage nearby for the mafia brass!” you managed to let out. akutagawa scowls, knowing you were right. “tsk. let’s go, jinko” he calls out to atsushi as he runs towards the restaurant. atsushi looked like he was deep in thought. whether or not to follow akutagawa or help you with fighting your own ability.
“hey-” “just go! i’ll be there, i promise!” you cut him off, knowing how long he decides to make a decision. you manage to shove demon snow far back but she was quick on her feet. “all right..” atsushi then follows akutagawa.
you bought yourself some time after sending demon snow flying. you immediately run towards the restaurant that had a secret passage and swiftly maneuver around the bar, barely managing to get inside the elevator and just before demon snow could get you, the doors closed.
“phew” you huff, catching your breath. “tsk, how weak” you hear akutagawa comment. the air was thick and stuffy. it’s almost like you couldn’t breathe. it was pitch black in the box too, making the situation far more worse for you and akutagawa. you wanted to avoid him as soon as possible but with the given situation, you can’t.
“this emergency passage was built in case for a gifted attack. the fog won’t reach us here” akutagawa states. hearing his voice again sorta made your heart ache. you truly missed him being around you at all times.
“what is that fog?” atsushi asked. “dragon’s breath” you hear akutagawa reply. you focused your attention on the buttons in front of you, not wanting to hear anything. trying to clear your head and getting a hold of yourself. you’re not gonna let some stupid boy change that. your mission is how to get your ability back and that was it.
“y/n,” akutagawa calls. you felt your breath hitch hearing your name slip off his tongue like that. it felt like home to you almost. “with neither of us having abilities, you could finally kill me just like what you said that night” he says. emphasizing on the word ‘that’; reminding you of that painful night you’re sure you’ll never forget.
the night you two broke things off. the night you never thought would come in a million years.
you didn’t utter a word and continued to stare at the buttons in front of you. akutagawa tilts his head to the side “what’s wrong?” he taunts. “don’t you have a score to settle with me?” his words laced in venom but you knew better. he was testing you. he was testing if you had the guts to kill him.
atsushi scoffs, “y/n-chan doesn’t think of you anymore!” he butts in. akutagawa felt his heart drop when atsushi mentioned that. ‘have you moved on from me?’ was a question that asks himself repeatedly. his feeling of hurt instantly changed into anger. how dare this nobody speak for you.
“want to end this while we don’t have our abilities?” akutagawa challenges him. “stop right there” you interrupt the two boys, standing in between the two of them so they don’t start lashing out. you sent a look at atsushi before turning to akutagawa. “cut to the chase. do you know how to get our abilities back?”
akutagawa lets out a chuckle. ‘what was so funny?’ you thought to yourself. “that’s the first thing you say to me in months?” he then clears his throat once more, “but yeah. i know a way”
“what is it?” atsushi exclaims once more. “defeat the ability, it would come back to the owner” akutagawa shrugs. he looks at you then to atsushi, “are you that uninformed?” he rolls his eyes. you stare at his face for a bit. your heart racing as it seems like all your memories with him are crashing down on you. did you miss him this much?
“what is your plan?” atsushi’s question bringing you back to reality. “the same as ours” you respond knowing akutagawa well. akutagawa hums, “i’m going to shred shibusawa’s organs and end his life” akutagawa swears. “why? is there any other way to save yokohama?” he asks the question towards atsushi.
“we won’t kill!” atsushi declares. “that’s not what the armed detective agency does” he continued. akutagawa lets out a sarcastic laugh. “how funny.” he laughs, “you really are something, jinko”
“y/n understands what this job is all about” akutagawa suddenly looks at you. you two make eye contact and for a second there, you see his eyes soften at the sight of you. you quickly look away to hide the blush that was now forming on your cheeks. “she’s a former port mafia, after all” he sighs, remembering his golden days shared with you.
“i left the mafia to see the light of day, we talked about this already” you spoke, “i left the mafia to join the agency” you take a deep breath before looking at atsushi dead in the eye. “but the mafia killings are different from the agency’s. there’s a difference” you say.
akutagawa can’t help but smirk a little at your statement. knowing you were at his side rather than his enemy and your colleague. “y/n-chan…” atsushi stares at you in disbelief. “this wouldn’t have happened if dazai-san didn’t join the enemy side” akutagawa claims, “i’ll be the one to kill him.”
atsushi yanks out his gun and aims it at akutagawa. you don’t know what came over you but in one swift move, you jumped right in front of your ex boyfriend, shielding him from atsushi. akutagawa stares at you for a moment. ‘you still haven’t changed one bit’ he thinks to himself.
“i’m not letting you kill dazai-san!” atsushi yells. “and i’m not letting you kill him either” you snap back at atsushi. “y/n-chan.. why?” atsushi questions. from behind, akutagawa smiles and he was almost ready to hug you right there. “just.. don’t kill him. that’s my job” you dismissed.
before atsushi could say anything the elevator doors opened. akutagawa moves around you, not missing the chance to at least touch you in any shape possible. his touches still have that lingering feel to it and leaves you behind with atsushi in the elevator. “we’re not going with you” atsushi claims.
akutagawa doesn’t say anything and walks towards more into the darkness. the elevator dings, ready to close the doors when you put your hand over it and rush to akutagawa. “i’m going with him” you tell atsushi. “eh?!”
in the end atsushi tags along with you. you walked beside akutagawa with atsushi trailing behind you. “y/n-chan, why are you following him..” you hear atsushi dread . “it’s simple. he has information” you look back at atsushi, “he’s a powerful asset and we both have the same goal” you say, turning your attention to akutagawa.
akutagawa watches you from his peripheral vision before noticing the familiar cellphone dangling on your neck. “you still have that cellphone your mother gave to you?” he asked. you don’t say anything and walked faster. “mother?” you hear atsushi ask.
akutagawa stops in his tracks and faces atsushi, “you haven’t even been told about that?” rolling his eyes, akutagawa turns his attention back to you. “oy, wait for me” he calls to you, picking up his pace to walk next to you. atsushi can only stare at the two of you with a million thoughts running in his head.
“what was the shortest route again?” you ask akutagawa beside you. “0505” he answers back. you hummed and continued to walk beside him. “i see you still haven’t changed” akutagawa starts, “i figured you would be an entirely different person by now” he shrugs. you bit your lip, not knowing how to respond. “you’re still the same y/n i know” you hear him utter under his breath.
“that’s cause i still have unfinished business with you” you blurt out. unable to hide the truth anymore. you wanted him back more than ever and meeting him again just proves it.
akutagawa shuffles closer to you and grabs your hand. “when this fiasco is over, how about we try again?” he proposes quietly. only loud enough for you to hear. you squeezed his hand, a tiny gesture that means a thousand words and makes his heart race over and over again.
#bsd#bsd imagines#bsd scenarios#bsd headcannons#bsd au#bungou stray dogs imagines#bungou stray dogs scenarios#bungou stray dogs headcannons#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#akutagawa imagines#akutagawa scenarios#akutagawa x reader#akutagawa headcannons#bsd akutagawa imagines#bsd akutagawa scenarios#bsd akutagawa x reader#bsd akutagawa headcannons#akutagawa#akutagawa ryuunosuke
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Abel info dump 2 me about ur ocs challenge
alright its 12am and i dont expect this to make sense, read at your own risk but heres a bullshit couple paragraphs on ashley underwood,
this is mostly ash because i think about her the most and this will make no sense because i haven't talked about her in literal months. ash is very complicated to me because i messed a lot with her characterization for a while and i still do, and i constantly wonder if I'm just shoving her into something convenient and stereotypical and therefore lessening her value, and then i decided that shes not real and i can make characters that don't make sense to anyone else but myself and i no longer also have to watch someone else take away pieces from her while i sit silently confused and hurt like i did before. anyway, she's very special to me because i put myself in her in a lot of small ways because she was the first oc i properly created. i made her originally for a fantasy storyline i was doing with some friends, and i thought she was very cool because she could do magic (doctor strange-esque, im not original) and then i gave her some trauma because its the next logical step. now i mostly think of her in all the modern aus that were created, and a lot of its with her old love interest (they had a very cool dynamic, sometimes childhood best friends to lovers, both with no idea how to be functional members of society, but i dont know if I'm like legally allowed to discuss them anymore so if i mention it once or twice my bad i just like knowing how my ocs act in relationships). i don't really know how I'm supposed to write things so I'm just going to put some general information and then ramble for a billion words cool sorry
general things!! shes a disaster bisexual whos 5′8″ and surviving on coffee and spite, she has freckles and tan skin (half Spanish on her mom's side- speaking of her parents died when she was 10 either in a car accident or a murder I didn't make my mind up) very curly brown hair and worrying bags under her eyes. she can look intimidating at first because she has one of those resting bitch faces and a dislike of being alive (there's a little bit of mental illness as a treat) also I'm really tired writing this I'm so sorry
she's an English major- she loves books, spent most her teenage years with her nose in one because it was easier than talking to people and also they're Fucking Good, she has shelves filled with them and two copies of her favourites so she can fill one with notes and annotations and she cries is she ever accidentally ruins one, she never sleeps when she should, staying up till the early morning and then napping at every chance she gets (she has fallen asleep on all of her friends so often, and never makes it through the second hour of the movie unless it's important), she starfishes when she sleeps and is a nightmare to wake up because she will tell you rather impolitely to “leave her the fuck alone” (getting out of bed means dealing with the world and it's so tiring to do it over and over), she’s constantly cold, wrapped up in sweaters and if she's comfortable enough, clings to the closets human heater. speaking of, it takes her a while to warm up to people, used to absolutely shut herself off from getting close to people in fear of them leaving before going to ~therapy~. she gets top grades in school because she works until shes burnt out and puts an overwhelming amount of pressure on herself, breaks down when she cant understand something in the first few tries because it feels like a failure, she does debate and writes poems and lyrics in beat up notebooks, hides them when people come over and owns like 3 guitars, sings unreasonably well and has scarily specific playlists, has round glasses she only wears when she has to because she cant see shit far away, catches colds often, brushes them off till shes forced into a bed, she studies the stars because theyre beautiful and unattainable and reads psychology books and likes true crime but only when theres a satisfying ending, she shows love through acts of service and physical touch, likes receiving quality time and words of affirmation, she takes polaroids of all her friends and sticks a bunch to her wall so she can stare at them and know that things are worth it now, has posters and art to remind herself of the little joys in life, will fight you about the star wars movies, overly competitive in a lot of things (mario-kart is a dangerous fucking game), curses a lot, stress bakes and cries when something goes slightly wrong, accidentally collects a following on tiktok from shitposting at 4am and having a nice aesthetic (and being pretty), would be the mysterious girl who you see/works at the bookstore/coffee-shop and fall a little bit in love with, writes essays last minute due to chronic procrastination and still aces it, is a ravenclaw, would be a child of hades in the pjo universe, would play outside hitter in volleyball (yes there was a haikyuu au), would be bassist in a band. i think this is all i can think of tonight because my eyes hurt but feel free to ask questions/ say anything honestly i really missed talking about my ocs and i have: many more that i will also talk about if anyone wants me to, (please. my inbox is so open please tell me abt ur ocs too i think its so fun)
#ok tagging this now bc tumblr fucking broke immediately after i tried posting this#heres ash! it doesnt make loads of sense but its not 12 56 and this is a lot of words#im sorry for the bad formatting and stuff i kinda just wrote what came to mind and can make another version of this another time#fr please skmeone ask me about these mfs i#i gots lizzy n cece n chris and characters ive barely explored n m too tired to but mayhaos#anyway yeah <3#writing#oc#original character
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hp update: its been a long time, boys. ud think that with this plague outbreak id have more time for shitty phone games, and ud be right! however, the time i normally might use to make tumblr posts has been taken up by reading lotr orc fanfiction non-stop for at least 1 full month. id still be in the thick of that obsession even now if only the fics would update. that is how i find you today folks, for the first time in many weeks i am staring at a screen with nothing to do. so come with me friends, theres no better way to fill the soulless void we are all in than reading a nice long tumbler post.
disclaimer, first of all, a lot has happened, i prefer to keep these updates as plot spoiler free as possible but do to extenuating circumstances i feel like it is necessary to say, [SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER BELOW]
that rowan fucking died,
i wont say exactly how, but i will say that her death was animated as were animations of myself and a few others reacting to our friend fresh corpse. obviously meant to be serious moments but the animations made it seem almost comical.
i saw at least one post going around right after this update that was like ‘how could the game devs do this to us..... how could they hate rowan so.... this is punishment from on high’ and its like.... u guys do know what a story is right? the events of a story are not typically done to punish less faithful fans, im pretty sure they were planning to kill rowan off from the beginning. this isnt disney im pretty sure the writers are not writing each chapter the night before its released by popular vote.
that little “are we drifting away..?” scene with rowan makes more sense now. there was a bit in one of the scenes where the kids all reminisce on rowans life and the mc talks about it being the last real one on one time they had with rowan. a nice bitter sweet moment. i dont hate this turn of events. its a good reminder that actions have consequences and we are way past they days of “should i wear a hat or scarf?” its YA time now.
i did manage to take 1 screenshot from this time, i had commented that before that when rowan said she didnt have many friedns that barnaby seemed to be hanging out with her without be there as a friend buffer and here was his reaction to her death:
;_;
the funniest part in all of this however, was of course cedericks reaction to rowans death “but she was so young....” LOL fuckin RIP.
lets see... what else.... i forget a lot of what happened but i think there was a time sensitive quidditch event in there somewhere? if so i dont remember it. what i do remember of the quidditch pals is that im gonna play beater now, skye is being weird and cagey about it, andre is involved.... the others are there.....
sidenote, i love the shitty b characters they throw in to be like yes you know this person but no they are not cool enough for u to even think about befriending. the first one of those is face paint kid, and now we have another, who is a former beater girl with horrible bangs named bean who didnt go to any classes for a whole season so she could just play ball 24/7 and got kicked off the team. this is a character who only exists to provide an explanation as to why there would be a beater position open but i love them on principle.
right now im in the midst of another time sensitive event, this one is a bother-your-brother-at-work-day event where recent hogwarts graduate bill weasley is bullied by myself and his younger brother charlie into letting us go with him on one of his curse breaking jobs.
so for those unfamiliar, bill works for the magical bank of england.... and his job seems to be “retrieving treasure” for said bank. in the books, there is a bit where he takes his family on one of his trips to egypt, where his job seemed to have been tomb plundering indiana jones style for the posterity of the english bank :X. i wont explain here why thats bad but its bad.
the game devs however in this instance, at least SEEM to be doing what jkr couldnt do by attempting to salvage what is left of gringotts bank and form it into not a super shitty implications factory run by horrible jewish caricatures. bills mission is to retrieve a goblin made artifact that was taken by dragons, so no going to foreign countries to steal things from other people! only going to a dragon reserve to rifle through animal nests. they even appear to be providing us with a likable goblin character, egad!
my hope for this event is that we get a plotline about how maybe, goblins arent shifty human haters for no reason, and in fact they hate magic humans for very understandable reasons, like being forced to go into hiding with the rest of the magical world even though only the humans wanted to do that, and maybe despite running the bank in england they still dont have a lot of political sway in the world of wizards and witches, and have to rely on the faith that said wizards and witches wont fuck them over at every turn, even as they see how they treat other non-humans, such as house elves, which they desperately dont want to end up like. and maybe they DONT only care about gold... maybe thats a human stereotype based on the fact that theres a long history of humans not respecting goblin ownership customs.... which i could get into..... but i wont.... i just....... very badly dont want them to suck ;__________;
i know i said its ok to still like a piece of media as long as you recognize the problems with it, and i do, but once this game is done im gonna stop hp posting all together. ive been feeling more and more uncomfortable making these posts lately.
GENERAL GAME NOTES; theres been some new layout changes and such.
most notably the stairs screen has been changed from a bulleted list of all locations to a screen with tiles picturing an image of each location along with the name + icons of all classes at each place. there is one additional location that is new and yet to be unlocked, and the dragon reservation is appearing temporarily as its own tile as well. i prefer this method of getting in and out of a temporary location to how they did it with car during the last christmas special. the stairs icon also now stays in the corner when you scroll through locations, allowing you to open the stairs menu without scrolling all the way back to the left.
they also moved a few of the buttons down into the lower left corner rather than the left side & combined the story button and sidequest button. they added a little camera button as well, just like in the dormitory, that makes all the icons in a location disappear and look better for screenshots.
the daily special add offer thing now has its own button in the top right corner of the screen, and idk if i mentioned it before but now there are daily challenges that appear in the sidequest screen that offer small rewards for completing 3 tasks per day + a better one if u get all 3. the prizes are things like 4 energy, 75 coins, 3 monster food. the better rewards are usually either more coins, 8 energy, 3 gems, or 1 notebook. i think that it does all the different color notebooks but i cant remember for sure if i ever saw the gold one up as a reward. i like this addition in any case. if you dont pick up ur reward by the end of the day, the next time u log on it will force u to stop and accept them, and if one of the rewards is energy and ur energy bar is full, it does not seem to stack beyond the bar so watch out.
the character stats page is now more zoomed out so you can see your full character instead of just from the waist up. no change to the leaderboard. rowans face in the friendship roster is now a still black and white image that says ur friend may be gone but friendship is forever u-u.
rowan has been removed from all classes. in the classes where the minigames involved her, those minigames have passed the mantle onto other friends in the class. in potions that person is now liz helping u find stuff off the shelves and in tranfiguration that person is badeea. bless these girls for helping mc get through it. touched my heart.
theres been a few fun little “i know u have more free time now so uhhhh have some energy” prizes like they do sometimes when they dont update on schedule so thats been nice. just a few days ago they gifted us 3 gold notebooks the same way. :O.
theres also been a few instances of a energy happy hour where for a limited time energy takes less time to refresh. normally it takes 4 mins for 1 energy to do this but during happy hour its like 2:30 mins. :U its all very interesting.
and that will have to do it for tonight my friends, ill do a post for the dragon event when its done because i do like it so far and i do like getting to bully bill with charlie.
until next time, remember.......
#hp#harry potter#hphm#harry potter hogwarts mystery#bill weasley#goblins#charlie weasley#sirius business#rowan khanna#rambling#Thoughts#so sorry im still making these posts#i just want to see them through to the end now
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Uhm??????? Unacceptable?? Please tell me more about your OCs in that last art? I demand it? I want a full report on my desk before morning? Cite your sources please?
Oh no,, you’re asking,,, about my own faves,,, sorry to everyone, but I guess im never going to shut up ever now. (i already don’t shut up ever, what have u done, im now going to speak so much that society will collapse AT LEAST)
But for real. I enjoy pretending I don’t have faves, I love all my kids the same, buT WE ALL KNO THAT’S A LIE, those two my fave bitches (they snatched that title from the last two faves, rip to them, and they also snatched, n I must really make that clear, the title of “the bitches with the most AUs from the previous previous faves. Their power.)
SO. Get ready for a ride, table of content: them, their respective character, their story, and the pLETHORA OF ALTERNATE STORIES I GAVE THEM because i must yell about all the versions of my kids i have (non-exhaustive cause its that serious bro, but ill take extra time for the universe depicted in that art just for u bby). (tbh if clamp is allowed to sprinkle their fave gays in all their universes so am i, except they aint secondary characters there, every story is just theirs. love that concept.)(itll be so long you’re getting a whole novel even if i have to post it in two posts)
So~ Em twos. Dari n Wei-wei as I call em, or Dumbass n Egg if you wanna get friendly.
They’re my proudest instance of “oops i made a squad of characters, and two of them just accidentally were so perfectly compatible and complementary oh no I guess they’re in love now.” And then they became my favourite. Cause I guess their potential was too much (jk its bc they hot)
cuties.
I spent ten minutes wondering which to introduce first cause dang son, I want to talk bout them both so much shefjgfdg
First, as I technically designed him first (like ten minutes before the other), my man weiwei. if u ever saw my art its impossible that you havent seen him at least once. cause i’m legit always drawing him. cause im in love bro.
Demonstration : here are my computer scribbled weiweis of 2020 so far (with a few daris there n there they’re a package deal), that i could find, and they do not include all the paper sketches that i’m too lazy to take pics of. (i just been drawing him with so much hair these days that’s illegal, his brand is baldness)
But anyway, he’s CHEN Chia-Wei, he’s 21, he’s Taiwanese n I love him. Two very important facets of his character when you meet him: he doesn’t talk, and is absolutely, in every single dimension, built to make you fall head over heels for him.
He’s (in the “canon” storyline if i may call it that since it’s def not my most developed one but oh well) an art student, mostly paints but is also great at photography and videography (his vibe is busy hectic pieces with strong bold colours, lots of harsh edges, and very people focused).
Aside from that, he’s also super into fashion, and because he’s part of the rich boy squad (the “im broke so im giving half my characters wealth in compensation) he Can and Does exhibit some quite funky fits when he feels like it. (maybe a reason I draw him a lot, since my fave thing is pretty boys in weird ass clothes)(and then i also draw him in just casual shit cuz tittiful men in plain white tees you know. there’s just something about it.)
Small compilation of outfits. ft me and my band handwriting roasting outfits that id also kill to own but ok u know.
He digs music. (i make playlists for my OCs and i gotta say, his is the best one, i spent so many hours researching it, “arranging” it etc n its still a work in progress but dude. she got many moods my fave part is when it suddenly turns into so many cheesy ballads also she’s enormous cause im as wordy in playlists as I am in writing.) listens to a lot, n also he can play piano n guitar. cause you know. heartthrobs got to win your heart with a song (and if he’s alone he can even mumble some songs, who knows maybe even sing em softly, definitly a sight to stumble on accidentally). Big main artists that have his vibes are Hello Nico, No Party for Cao Dong, n Circa Waves’s “what’s it like over there” album.
He does a lot of sports. He ain’t fit through magic, rip to him. He’s got a serious routine, and it’s a time he likes to use alone, cause nothing like running at the break of dawn, alone with your thoughts, which you can just easily forget through the exhaustion of a workout session afterwards.
he also eats. A lot. Food is just good, bro. (the canon story is def happening some place europe aka his biggest struggle is how expensive food is here. outrageous.)
He secretly loves super cheesy movies. the dramatic romcoms??? the cute shows that are just so cute and worriless?? anything involving soulmates??? yeh dude. he watches it, he reads it, he listens to it, and he may cry about it, but no one will know. That’s the one true guilty pleasure. (and he definitly has a collection of romance dvds, books n manhuas in his old room back at the family home. where no one can see it. perks of studying abroad. no one can see ur hoarding of material that clashes your image. “yes i watch edgy experimental things haha yes i love those smart people movies of course wow the philosophy…” and then immediatly goes to watch the trashiest predictable but oh so sweet dramas all night)
While he doesn’t speak (as in with the mouth) he can communicate in a bunch of language, due to having moved around quite a bit. On top of his native mandarin and hokkien, he’s fluent in English, so he can use those to write, and is also fluent in TSL, and pretty good in HKSL (and from that, other close-in-syntax sign languages). So he doesn’t have trouble getting around, but then he is also overall quiet in public (with close friends and over text though, that’s another story, that’s where he gets chattier, and also where you may get more of his true personality). Also, he can speak with his sister. That’s pretty cool bro.
I was going to say he’s a very “hides his true colours under a shell” type of character but you know, for an egg character, that’s pretty ironic. We love poetic cinema.
He presents himself as a very laid back, chill detached dude, going with the flow and all that great stuff, and masterfully mixes just the right doses of mysterious, flirty and calm to just go around vibing. But ain’t that jUST THE MILLENIAL’S ILLNESS, those dANG KIDS, going around, gettin relationships but never intimacy 👏😢 (there’s more to it dont leave)
First of all, before you see the Drama, the Turmoil, the first thing you notice when you really do befriend him is that he’s c h i l d i s h, he gets sulky when things dont go following the plan, he gets whiny n jealous for not getting attention , he gets competitive over stupid challenges, and way too playful if you start teasing, and when he gets flustered too…you think you get cool stoic dude but actually you get a dude who’s reacting to things with way too much intensity, and boi i thought u were gon be mature what’s that why have you been pouting for three days over losing a bet come on- That’s mostly coming up when he interacts with his sister, but the closest you are to him to more of it you get to see.
He’s also an affectionate dude actually. Like physically. As in you’ll get spontaneous hugs. He’s come nap on your shoulder. That’s a perk of befriending him if you ask me.
Also he tries to look so cool, so tough haha. He’s actually a lil sensitiv boi. he gets fluffy, he gets flustered, he heart eyes. you turn around and he’s gazing at ya as if you were the whole universe. he gets a mini crisis for holding hands with his crush. ya know. he’s secretly a softie.
nerd.
Then in the “what he doesn’t show” (my fave part), where you stock all the anxieties, all the trauma… Obviously there’s a lot of anxiety here (selective muteness being a symptom of it, he hides the other ones very well) mostly fear of inadequacy, of abandonement and of loneliness. mmmmmmmaybe that’s why he was v reticent to continue pursuing that one guy he was into when he realised he was just a tad too into him oh no is that some,, like?? some lovey-love?? cant have that im afraid of gettin heartbroken bro. Aint that sad for a someone who’s one true goal is just findin someone to love and to be with forever, the struggles of yearnin for a soulmate when there’s nothing you fear more than getting attached to a person and letting them see you and your flaws.., delicious.
Now tho (because its so alone speaking about a character on their own and i just wanna get to the part where i can speak bout em together and how they bring out bits of each others ya kno, the good kush….), Dari…
He’s pretty, i must say, and got the funniest hair to draw, and comes from the most opposite background to weiwei’s.
Darian Andriev PARVANOV, also 21, comes from the remote Bulgarian countryside, but i still love him (this makes it sound as if i wouldnt normally love someone from the bulgarian countryside. its not what i meant. by default ud remind me of my son so you’d start being liked if u came from the bulgarian countryside) Now for the first instance of “wow, the complementarity”. The first thing i thought making Dari was that he looked too cool, and that he obviously was a dumbass, and mostly that he was physically unable to shut up. (o fuck he’s me)
best picture i could find of him. He’s got the dilemma of “wow he looked so pretty n cool until he opened his mouth”
He’s ALSO an art student (cause they were initially created for the purpose of filling the gap of “i have ocs in every field except the one i sorta know that’s so stupid”), painting major (def vibes differently than weiwei though, he’s doing those soft pretty landscapes n flowers, everything real pretty and peaceful, we got some impressionism nerd in here folks).
He was/is a real country boy, farm family, he helped tend the fields, he worked in plantations for pocket money, he knows how to take care of cattle and chicken and goats and all the cool babies you can take care of, he can tell whether the soil is good or not, he can drive a tractor, and doesnt fear dirt.
but then also he’s kind of a neat freak, he hates getting paint on himself, so the duality of man, dirt ok but paint? disgostin. his spaces are real neat and spotless, he likes cleaning (its relaxing) and does it nearly too often.
his dumbassery comes from lack of common sense and impulsiveness, aside from that he’s actually what you’d call “mad smart”, dude had em good grades, he can memorise pages upon pages of the most trivial information, he has an accumulation of knowledge beyond limits, and is good at problem solving. so he can recite all the words of the F letter of the dictionnary, but would also put a curling iron in his mouth to see if it would curl his tongue. (side note, he does have a problem with heat n fire, most his “oopsie how i wound up hurting myself on acccident” story involve burning -that stove was just too tempting…)
while he doesnt feel very attached to his home country, he does feel strongly for his family. he’d do anything for his mum (and actually does everything to make her proud already, that’s his one main goal), and he’s ready to sacrifice a lot for her (as in, spend years working non-stop a really uncomfortable job so his mother wouldnt have to pay a cent of his expenses even though she said she could by doing some sacrifices herself,and then being ready to come back as soon as needed if anything happened, and potentially drop his career and dream n go back to the farm life to provide for mama)(also he still does hold onto some parts of his home country’s traditions, and does sometimes feel homesick but more in a ‘i left the most beautiful landscapes n the city feels cramped and claustrophobic and i dont know people and i dont feel in the right place cuz im a forreigner with a thicc accent who doesnt master the language of this place and straight up have different body language communicators due to cultural difference oh lord i wanna be home where a nod means no and a head shake is yes i keep misunderstanding everything”)
if you want background noise he’s the perfect pal to call over, he’s just so chatty, he got hours and hours of non stop speech ready for you. you can shut him up once you’re done listening with the offering of food. works everytime.
he’s definitly not shy. neither in terms of talking to people, nor when it comes to making decisions. he’s quite bold, and rarely hesitates to go towards something he wants. he’s direct in his approach to most everything.
he likes partying. mostly the socialising part, talkin to people is just fun ya feel. and being in the crowd, doing whatever, pressure free? ya can dance n enjoy yourself, and people wont notice? yeah that’s nice. but doesnt do it super often cause broke bitches aint got the party time n budget.
he likes arm. (just an excuse for me to drop this thing here cuz i like it)
While he’s an overall bubbly looking character, with a cheery loud personnality, he does carry some youth trauma that has him more reticent to engage in happiness, he comes from what you could call “not the wokest background” and he may have fallen victim of it : he’s kind of a flashy noticeable character, both physically and in his personnality, and doesnt exactly matches the expectations of dudes in the area he comes from (delicate, emotional and sweet guy? that doesnt exist bro). He went through it, and it has definitly had some impact on his confidence in many aspects. But he’s 100% the type of guy to put on the fake happy front because if feeling bad is sad, making the people you care about sad for you too is Unacceptable Right??? relying on friends?? what???
But then what are we supposed to be doing with such charming characters huh,,,
Make them fall in love obviously.
Their story obviously has to do with falling in love and workin a relationship cause if I dont write romance i literally die, but I make the center pivot of all of it communication, and barriers in communications. Most obvious being them coming from wildly different cultures, having different native languages, and also the ways you adapt to muteness (what i love most bout that part is even then they fucked up given the easiest quickest small body language things to communicate are head nods n then i managed to make one come from the one country that reverses those like iconic how do they even understand each other -through a lot of work and love bro) but also on more “introspective” points, how to say things that you are even afraid to think about, how to open up and share your burdens and trauma with someone, how to say words you’ve been convinced you weren’t allowed to, the inner turmoil of communication in short. And then also communication through art, and through alternative unusual ways. If i were snobbish i could call it something like “a thinkpieces on how humans overcome obstacles in communication, and adapt, all for the sake of pursuing love” but fact is its mostly boys being in love n learning how to speak, figuratively and also quite literally. And also its me having fun with making characters evolve from each other, be able to influence each other for the better, helping each other be more comfortable with themselves and express the true things of their personnality, and discover new aspects. I just wanna write intense and soulful love bro.
So in less concept and more facts, weiwei meets dari, dari being his puppy self just immediatly strikes a conversation and weiwei gets interested cause “oho nice pretty boy? very good. i want some of that”. they get closer because you cant fight off the Power of friendship (and also the power of “what your friend is bestie with my friend?? guess we hanging out”) and then friendship and interest turns into pining, held back by respective dread of what romance with the other would mean (as in “romance?? cant have that we cant feel” and “with him?? cant do that, convince yourself he’s just a friend immediatly what would the family think”) but eventually they do have to just crash into one another cause that’s just the gravitational pull bro, its physics bro. and from then on its all unlearning destructive behaviours, bettering oneself with the help of the other, and getting over trauma to finally live ur best life. and gettin fckin married bro they’re both cheeseballs theyll wanna wed
BUT MAKING EM FALL IN LOVE ONCE ISNT ENOUGH time to make 3894853 alternate universes about em.
Lets speak bout my fave of those for a hot second.
First of all, the one of the art that brought this ask, guess i could call it “Pretty Tribes” AU, bunch of tribes live and do their things, having nature and energy powers. Dari n Weiwei’s tribes are bros, the latter’s powers needing them to move around to get energy from different places, enabling them different abilities. So basically they get to hang at the other’s place while the regenerate energy from there, and in exchange they help them out with various tasks (dari’s tribe is a rly farmer oriented one, with plant magic, while weiwei’s got more poyvalent powers, and have very good healers notably, so it comes in handy). The two boys were born a few months apart in their respective tribes, so naturally, anything the two clans meet, they’re put together to play and all, and from that they became besties, and each time they meet, after the gaps of time separating the two groups, they feel more and more of a little something else~ story is themed round growing up, friendship between clans, their traditions and cultures, and pretty boys in pretty clothes in pretty landscapes interacting with nature.
The superpower AU, i fuckin love it bro. Its an old one, made for other characters, but i just love it so much that i had to inject my faves in it. Its got a grimy ugly setting, bad government, propaganda, and fights between super-people (heavily mediatised for entertainment and reinforcing the idea that “look at these evil villains thank god us the good government protects you from them”), with a side of bad ethics in science. In all that, those two have the role of “those two young enemy warrior and villain, they were so powerful and fought so hard”, public figures, legendary and admired by both sides, everyone followed their fights, til one day they presumably died in one of their showdowns. (haha sike they actually found themselves talking for 5 seconds and realised they lived in a society, n built a plan to run away). The main characters get to find they’re alive because one of em had history with super-warrior-golden-boy and go to seek their help to overthrow the Big Bads. (stealing them from their nice gay cottage hermit life smh so rude)
Mermaids. I like those. Sailor weiwei sees merman dari, they both save each other in different occasions, they grow fascinated with each other, they’re at sea, water romance. Amazing. AU made half cuz i just like water n fish. and shirtless sailors.
(i couldnt find art of it in five minutes so have a link to that lil animatic piece i made of it once)
Indie band AU, where i was listening to songs that vibe so well with those two in general n then my brain was like “what if they’re the ones playing”. They’re (along with the rest of the art squad) a nice little alternative rock band, doing their thing, then one of their songs blows up, and they get quite the attention, to the dismay of dari who wrote that song in a moment of “oh no im so in love with my bandmate but i cant tell him what if i ruin everything we have going on ill just have to love from afar and deal with that” and now has way too many people interested in who he wrote it about and theorising from his every move when performing it (a mix of music, secret crushes and social media) (ft a picture of neither of them but its the least ugly art i found of this AU cuz its old and instruments are the bane of my existence)(also kelana is so pretty i gotta flaunt her around)
in kind of the same vibe, as in we’re in a music world overexposed to social media, i also integrated em to an AU i did for fun, “boyband AU” as its called aka idol based band system cuz you kno, i got a hobby, lets apply it. Band boy Dari and bodyguard Weiwei got a thing going on, but can’t really act on it in any way, because they’d just destroy the whole band if it ever came public. Featuring annoying bandmates, catchy pop songs and people making fanaccounts of that one hot Mr.Bodyguard cause dang he hot.
(all the art of this one so ugly im sorry)
SPY AU, one of my fave brand. They spies, they get assigned on the same mission, they work real nice with each other. spies hot. fights. strategy. i just like the concept. Gays taking down the worst traffics imaginable??? I love that song.(i actually have so much on this cause s p i e s are fuckin great)
Fashion. U kNOW i have an AU for fashion. Supermodel and his private stylist, trying to maintain the line of professionalism. And failing to do so. Lets make out in unpractical designer clothes.
Have an highschool AU for a bunch of characters, injected them as “spinoff”, start chatting online being art buddies, fall in love without meeting (ft. all the iconics of internet friendship like knowing tiny details of their personnalities but not the fact that they have a sister or “waIT ur a GUY i thought u were a girl wow wild good news for my gay ass”)
n those are my faves as far as i remember, i got a fuckton of small other ones that arent fleshed out enough, or some that are more of a guilty pleasure universe, and some that are more like “projects that i can expend on as soon as i run out of daydream material” (like u kno those hospital drama shows with super innacurate medicine n shit like idk scrubs or whatever, yeh i want some of that but im keeping it for later)
#thats way less talk than i thought id do#prolly bc i wrote half of it when it was between midnight and one AM#wait no it was 2 am#but ye#sry if shit messy af#those two are my faves tho n talkin bout em on the spot is hard cuz my brain is screaming about everything bout em at once#if u wanna get more info on em do ask i love them so much n i feel i didnt do em justice here cuz speaking is a fraud words dont exist#im glad they caught ur interest tho#nothin more gratifyin than not being the only bitch who likes his own children
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literally just a dumb unorganized list of school tips
source: im a grad student. i’ve had a lot of school. also i’m adhd & mentally ill and require +8 organization. this is mostly directed @ college students, but maybe high school students can use it too, fuck, idk, it’s been forever since i was stuck in that hell hole
just say “professor” either ur using the correct title for a person (will make them feel good) or you’re giving them a bigger title on the assumption they deserve it (which will make them feel good) and also prevents having to ever i mean ever use their names
talk at least 1 time a week in each class, aim for 1 time a day. even lecture classes. i fucking hate talking in front of more than 5 people, so what i would do is prepare a question about the hw/etc (even if i didn’t need it answered) to ask the professor after class so they saw me and got used to me and saw i was invested in their class. about 89% of teachers - if they see you try, they will pass you. i mean it’s literally that easy. i know people who went from like a c- but because they legit tried, their grade got bumped up to a b-.
if u have to bring a laptop, pre-download the required material/screenshot it, and then turn off your wifi. it’s too easy to not listen.
physical writing will always give you more information recall over typing.
nobody cares about stupid shit anymore trust me they don’t remember that you were accidentally locked in a towel out of your room bc they have their own dumb shit that happened.... in college all the “cringe culture” turns into “god i wish that were me” culture ... wear ur onesie to a party trust me you make +800 friends and 799 of them will be girls telling you you’re adorable and they’d die for you
about locking urself out.... if ur like me and can breeze past post-it notes placed in obvious areas, don’t be a dumb bitch and rely on post-it-notes. while most schools offer 1 free lockout, dont rely on it - it once took 2 hours before someone could get to me. i was in a towel, which meant no phone. so like. anyway, what i do now is i put something on the handle of the door i have to open/unlock. i can’t just open the door w/out the thing falling down and making a loud “you dumb bitch unlock the door before u shower” sound.
this works for all important don’t-forget it things. other obstacles i’ve used to remind myself to do something include: putting a chair with my wholeass posterboard in front of the door, an entire printer with a single piece of paper that just read “for the love of god check to be sure you have that essay”, and a recycling bin i kept forgetting to empty. guess what bitch finally emptied the bin once it was between me and a swift exit!
no offense and like the whole “it’s the best years of your life!” thing is great but in reality everything goes better scholastically when you treat it as “i came here to win, not to make friends.” i still did make friends, went to parties every weekend, was popular enough i’d be invited to several on one night - but i came there to win. when i put my scholastic life and my mental health first, i went from a 2.0 to a 3.98. yes you can, bitch.
you’re spending the money. don’t squander it. trust me when i say i know plenty of people who breeze through, bc you often can. but like. don’t. challenge yourself bc like. talk about an investment.
if you hate your major, change it. don’t make your life something you can’t stand. on that note, do NOT agree 100% to a track until you have at least some experience in the field. i cannot tell u how many ppl i know who got their whole masters/phd program done, walked into their new profession, and were like, Oh Fuck, I Can’t Live Like This.
college literally offers so many free things and if you’re not taking advantage of them whenever possible i get it but like. try to take advantage of them. this is everything from your gym (which probably has free classes dude) to clubs to like. sober events. these sober events are so ... fuckin good dude i’ve made mason jars with little plants in em... bee aviaries... candles.... go to the free stuff
oh ps on free stuff i wanna say about 4 of 5 days there’s free food on campus just look for things like job fairs, presentations, or discussion groups. also while you’re there at the job fair like. u know, go to the job fair in earnest
i took off 2 years to work and also to just. recover from my bullshit. and it took me 6 years and 3 schools to get my bachelor’s. it wasn’t easy but bitch i lived. there’s no such thing as “too long” to graduate if that’s truly what you want to do.
if on the meal plan, eat as clean as you can the first week. then introduce each part of the cafeteria’s possibly-food-poisoning-creating foods one at a time. give @ least 2 days between each experiment so you know for sure if you get sick what caused it. i literally never eat meat at school but you can still get sick off of unwashed lettuce/salad dressing that hasn’t been refrigerated properly/weirdass things you won’t even think of. this prevents like. dying in a public bathroom.
white loaf bread can be gross & boring. discount bakery section for your slightly chewy artisianal bread needs. if overstale, either toast it or dunk it into water and microwave it (unless u got an oven. use the oven if u can)
steal as many apples from the dining hall/events/etc as physically possible just do it they keep FOREVER and @ some point you’ll be like. fUCK i need a nutrition. ps if you’re keeping them in ur backpack (i wouldn’t keep more than 2) make sure to wrap w/a few paper towels so if you drop your bag you don’t get apple mush
write it all down bitch. “i’ll remember it” no you won’t. unless you are capable of remembering every idea on this list and in order, you won’t remember it. in general, if you write something 3 times, you will recall it correctly at least 80% of the time. i also read it out loud to myself, bc, you know, auditory recall
DO NOT just put your assignment at the top of your notes, unless you’re 100% sure that will work for you. in most cases, it’s much better to have a planner/agenda/place you expect to look for assignments. +7 points if you lie to yourself about deadlines and move them all up.
like not to sound too much like a DARE ad but like. if you don’t like it/don’t want it, don’t fuckin do it. the idea that “there’s nothing to do if you don’t party” is such bullshit. like i promise if you’re like “i am a grouch and want to stay in and binge netflix” about 45 ppl will show up in pjs like “bitch fullscreen it, im a grouch too.” there’s also like. the chance to just.... not overindulge. on wednesdays i have “wine wednesdays” where we sit around and drink a glass of wine while we do our hw. it’s chill and friendly instead of like. drink until u vomit. don’t feel like you either gotta slam the breaks or the gas pedal, is what i mean.
PLEASE know the signs of alcohol poisoning/overdose. most schools have a “Safety Always Matters Most” policy, which means that you can call for help w/out getting into trouble. if you think someone is in danger, act. this also goes for making sure ppl get home safe even if they’re just incapacitated, not poisoned. step in, dudes.
also just. notice when ur starting to rely on stuff too much. i’m super easily addicted to things, so i keep a healthy distance from liquor. i don’t let myself “drink to feel better” bc that’s a scary, scary thing to link to feeling better. if you or somebody u know starts drinking all the time/gets anxious if they don’t drink/drinks in the daytime .... get help. schools have counselling services for a reason.
you’re gonna get a cold/flu of some sort in the first 2 months just brace for it. in the meantime, drink vitamin c, try not to touch too many handles, and when people say “there’s something going around” believe them.
watch kaplan nike just do it
if you can teach it, you know the material. a super good way of knowing if you studied the right way is to try and teach the material to a stuffed animal/imaginary class.
“i don’t know how to study” bitch me too the fuck. this is usually bc we’ve been taught that studying is just sitting down and staring @ ur notes. it’s not. it’s different for everyone, and you need to understand it’s 99% preventative care. if you don’t go to the class or do the homework, studying is going to fucking suck, bc you’re learning the material all at once for the first time. the place you should consider “studying” is “i’m confident in 70-90% of the material, but need to review.” do not let yourself fall behind .... just go to office hours and ask questions if ur not getting something. studying should feel like you’re remembering what you already knew but kinda forgot, not like you’ve been blindsided.
the whole “writing it down in ur own words” while u have been told this 700 times it really helps bc it means u gotta translate it through your own understanding. if you can’t, and it’s not bc the material seems too obvious to you to state in another way - ask yourself if you don’t understand the material. chances are u are missing a bit of info.
i know it’s like A Thing that Some People do but i never had the mental health points for it but i know some people just take 15 minutes after every class to review their notes. since i’m 100% early to every class ever, obnoxiously so, i try to do it before class. having the last class’s notes up in my head super helps. like. put down the phone i know you’re socially anxious me too but review those notes. chances are if u start flipping through pages other ppl will too. this is also fun bc as soon as you start this whole thing, at least one person will be like “is there a test?” no bitch there’s no test but im gonna be ready when there is!
literally so much of success is fucking posturing i could link about 800 peer-edited studies that show that when a student is expected to do well (and knows they are), they do well. like i literally didn’t change my appearance at all, never bothered to look nice (once winter hits i wear 67 layers all the time), but when i showed up after my 2 years off from school, i presented myself with the whole “i came here to win” vibe and people... really respected me? i mean in hs i remember ppl saying shit like “yeah, well, you aren’t gonna have the homework”. by the time i was in college i had an honest-to-god conversation which included someone being like “so tell me what you’re overachieving at right now” like they just expected it from me. wild.
i live by “bite off more than you can chew, and then CHEW IT” but it’s probably unhealthy. the truth is that i have a lot of energy all the time (lmao adhd!!!) and i used to get told i was “trying too hard” and for a long time (still???) i didn’t (i don’t?) know what that was, you know, bc i had a D average, clearly i wasn’t trying. it turns out i was just. putting all my energy into stuff that wasn’t making me happy like toxic friendships etc. when i decided “nope, all this energy is for me and my schoolwork”..... uhhhhh suddenly i was a golden child and everyone praised my try-hardness ... it’s a fuckt up system tbh
take at least 1 class just for fun. i try to do that every semester. it helps break up all the requirements. if you’re like an engineer and got no time or credits left to spend, try to audit your fun course.
make ur advisor love you i don’t care what it takes make them cupcakes show up to thank them i dONT CARE just do it
the library isn’t always the best place. if i start getting anxious bc i pavlovian train myself that library=work, i find a new place to go to do hw. try to go outside if you can!!! not like where i live bc like it’s snow all the time but try. a little green really really really helps depression.
if you’ve been in the same “Studying” place for 1 hour and haven’t done anything the chances are Something Isn’t Right. first, look @ ur body. are you not focusing bc of some pressing physical need? sometimes just taking a shower and coming back helps. are you uncomfy? are you too comfy and going to sleep? if body okay, look @ the material. do you not understand it? do you just need to switch to a new topic for a little bit? can you find a youtube video that will help you better understand it? make notes on what you don’t get so you can ask in the next class. if it’s not the material, it’s not ur bod, check the Actual Space. sometimes just getting up, going for a short walk to a new place, and trying it there actually? really works? if none of this is working.... try ur brain next. hardest to reset bc like, what, turn it on and off again? i use things like caffeine, a short workout, a nap, or a podcast all to just... give me a little boost.
don’t be afraid to leave. i mean this about class, friend groups, and the college ur at. just get up on outta there if ur not feelin it. i cannot recommend “drop the class” enough. even if it’s a required course see if u can switch the times if u hate the professor day 3 it’s not gonna get better just get the fuCK out
don’t nap in the same position u go to sleep in, nap upside down w/ur head away from ur pillow. don’t ask me why but it works to 1. fall asleep faster 2. make sure u sleep okay at night and 3. wake up less annoyed
on that note don’t ever do anything in ur bed in a sleeping position unless it’s genuinely sleeping in it. body will get confused. just sit up, lazybones.
when/if the library has those therapy dogs during finals week.... just go pet them make the time for it
ask before hugging people, but don’t expect a “yes”
get a backpack that fits and doesn’t hurt ur back u fuckin hippie idc how cool it is to wear ur backpack super low just don’t do it it’s not worth it
the tutoring center is a fucking goldmine.... free essay edits my dudes
bring a fan dorms are always hotter than u expect
switch dorms if u can if u realize ur in the wrong room/wrong roomate like just don’t bother with nonsense
when in doubt, follow preschool rules. tell ppl when they did something cool, just ask when u need help, and be confident even in your mistakes, because at least u tried
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what are ur current thoughts on the cm main cast? i know you only give hot takes so i’m curious
ok so i have not actually watched all of criminal minds. ive attempted to watch it all the way through a good few times (at least 6) but somewhere around the middle i always drop off and then inevitably start AGAIN from the beginning. i've gotten as far as season seven before which is...not very far. so ive gotten to the rossi/prentiss era of the show, and i think i got to the point where prentiss left the bau. so i'll just talk abt the cast up until then!
also i'll preface this with acab blah blah copaganda bad blah blah fuck the feds. i know guys. let me have my one legally allotted cop show
gideon: i. love gideon. he's not the stereotypical hardass unfeeling leader character that rossi (at least in the beginning) fell into. he's very emotional, very empathetic, and while he can be genuinely pretty frightening when confronting the criminals in the show, the care he has for his team and his capacity for kindness and compassion for victims....a bitch has cried before! he really grew into his own over the tenure of the show, and while i was sad that he left, i think it tied well back into who his character was and a natural progression for him following his trauma from the job. also i love mandy patinkin's performance in general, i love him voice and the way he can go from soft and intense. jason gideon if ur reading this im in the market for a father
hotch: i've always liked hotch, but he REALLY grew into his own over the series. his care for his team is really something, but WOW the storyline with his ex wife and jack? and the episodes about haley's death? WOW. i absolutely cried like a baby during their last phonecall and. god. i know vaguely that his actor had some issues on set lmao but i really like what of hotch's character i've seen and. yeah.
elle: she was very much the token girl on the team which was disappointing. i really liked her, especially during the beginnings of season one, and i think the episode on the train was really, really good -- her dynamic with the team here was really interesting (especially with spencer) and it's one of my favorite episodes. i think her experience with ptsd is believable especially after her injury in the season 1 finale, but i feel like the booting her from the team for being the trigger-happy high strung woman character was. not great. good on her for killing that bastard tho, even if acab and she avoided legal ramifications when irl thats. not great.
prentiss: i LOVE her!!!! she's so fun and goofy but also good at her job and very relatable. i love her journey to prove herself to the team, and the close bonds she makes with everyone, and it really helps make the team feel like a family (aha me? liking found family dynamics? damn thats crazy). i just found out that she was written as a lesbian but CBS fucking nixed it for some reason, so truly homophobia never sleeps and forevermore prentiss will be a whole ass dyke in my heart. i love her!!!
rossi: i was never SUPER hurr durr rossi bad cuz he's not gideon, but he was written purposefully as an asshole in his beginnings, so i didn't like him that much. i felt like the episode that developed him into a "good guy" was cheesy but good, and while he's nowhere near my favorite member of the team, i do like him!
derek: I FUCKING LOVE DEREK MORGAN!!!!! i love his dynamics with the entire team, especially spencer, emily, and penelope. his writing left a lot to be desired in season one, but he DRASTICALLY improved thereafter and he's in my top 3 in the show. his particular character (lbr trauma) building episode absolutely gutted me, and i just. absolutely adore adore adore him. king of the lesbians, bisexy icon, respecter of women, derek morgan please embrace me in your arms and let me kiss u on the lips
jj: i luv jj!!! i love her dynamic as media liaison and how she interacts with the whole team, but how she's also very capable in the field! her storyline with her boyfriend/husband is very sweet, litcherally straight rights. i know she gets her character dev after where i stopped watching, so im excited to learn more abt her!!!
penelope: i love penelope so FUCKING much guys!!! she's a perfect balance between comic relief and emotional beats, and there's nothing i dislike about her. she's fucking hilarious, i love her confidence (but also how she's allowed to feel insecure) , and her dynamic with derek is the best in the show, full stop. but i also adore her dynamics with the female members of the team, and her play flirting to straight-faced hotch is unendingly funny. god. the episode(s) where she's dealing with getting shot? the way derek will do anything to protect her? and penelope in turn wants to protect him? GOD. she's also human, and kind, and caring, and fuck i love her so much.
spencer: to NO ONES surprise spencer is my favorite. i definitely have a highkey crush on matthew gray gubler and i think his performance as spencer is just. phenomenal. spencer is funny, he’s kind, he’s so fucking smart, and he’s really truly capable despite all the obstacles his life has thrown at him. the tobias hankel episode is one of my favorites of the series, and the resulting trauma that spencer goes through just. wow. and his longstanding fears of being afraid of what’s inside his own head, of what people think of him because he’s so different, of how there are in fact very few degrees of separation mentally between him and some of their past unsubs? GOD!!!!! his character is incredible, i adore him to pieces, and i love his dynamics with the rest of the team, specifically jj, hotch, penelope, and morgan (especially morgan!!!!!). um spencer reid literally kiss me on the lips challenge sir i am in love with you. also bisexy trans and autistic rights babey!!!!!
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You (Roger Taylor x Reader)
Summary: You by Dodie Clark, but with a twist ;)
Words: 3676
Notes: TW: MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL DRINKING AND ALMOST GETTING HIT. angsty at first, but gets pretty fluffy uwu haha + swearing + lyrics are italicized
A/N: this is for @queens-n-roses 2k writing challenge anddd reading all the other entries got me thinking well shit so here i am in all my shittiness ha ha ha anyways this is also my first time doing a song thing so tell me what you guys think! also also this is late bc im on my last weeks of school so sorry but expect more fics during summer!! (march-june for all ur western people) sdfdjks u know what im gonna leave a seperate post for the a/n fic bc yall i have kwento bye love you all <3
☀ tagging: @obsessedwithrogertaylor @malekdarling @i-padfootblack-things
~~~~~~~~~
I told you I was looking for some empathy
Well, you fooled me
You slammed the door of the apartment you and Roger shared. You had just broken up with you boyfriend, Zach, as he was a misogynistic prick. He had insisted that you move out of your apartment with Rog and move in with him.
You had repeatedly told him no, especially since moving was expensive for college student. You had also only been dating for a month, and the whole thing seemed too fast. In response, he called you a ‘whore’ and ‘cheating bitch’, but the thing that took the cake was when he had punched a hole in his wall, which missed you by a mere inch.
You told him that you never wanted to see his face again, and got out of there, leaving him in a shocked state.You ran straight home, never looking back, tears running down your face. You couldn’t believe you didn’t see his nasty attitude before, but you were glad you got out of it before anything escalated.
Roger was sitting on the couch reading a car magazine, when the sharp noise caused his to dart up seeing you in disarray. You marched right over to your room and closed the door, leaving Rog completely clueless to whatever had happened. He followed you quietly, wanting to comfort you, but the door was locked shut.
He put his ear against the door, trying to make out anything from your sobs, but all he could hear was your crying. He’d seen you cry before, but not to the point that didn't even talk to him. It concerned him a lot, but instead of getting the spare key, he decided to give you some space for now. He told himself he’d make it up in the morning.
You were glad you had stashed a bottle of vodka in the dark corners of your cabinet. You were a shaky mess while the bottle sat in your hand. You placed the bottle between your lips, feeling the taste of alcohol rush into your mouth. It left a burning sensation as it made its way down to your stomach.
You didn’t know what you were feeling right now, but it definitely helped you take your mind off what had just happened.
You fell asleep on the floor with your back against your bed. Your mind wandered between fear, anger and sadness during your last moments of consciousness.
The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache. The soft pillow on underneath your head, made you feel the slightest bit better. Wait. You realised you were up on your bed, tucked in your comfy duvy. The light peered through your windows making your head throb at the brightness.
You looked away to darker parts of your room, seeing some pain relievers and a glass of water sitting on your night stand which only perpetuated your confusion. Nonetheless, you took them both, making you feel just a bit better. You were about to get up when your door swung open, hitting the wall.
“Whoops I’m sorry.”
You saw Roger holding a tray of pancakes. The stack of pancakes was adorned by powdered sugar and a trickling waterfall of maple syrup. It was such a heavenly sight, you had to restrain yourself from lunging at the sight of it. You couldn’t believe that Roger had made it for you. You couldn't believe Roger was responsible for it. He sat on your side of the bed placing the pancakes down.
When he had gotten a good look at you, he saw how distraught you were. You eyes were sore and puffy; Your hair was disheveled mess, sticking out in all directions. It was a good thing he left the pain relievers for you.
“What’s the occasion?” You practically drooling over the pancakes as Roger set them down.
“You seemed sad last night, so I head to the local diner and got some takeaway pancakes.”
“I knew you couldn’t have made them! and if you did, i guess that i’d have a big mess to clean.”
You both laughed. He’d been your best friend for five years now, and you both knew each other like the back of your hand. He handed you a fork as you wasted no time taking a bite out of them. It was a divine breakfast to say the least. You were devouring every piece as if it was your first meal in a hundred years. Roger could only sit back and watch, amused by how much happiness these pancakes. Little did he know it wasn’t necessarily the pancakes that made you happy.
“So were the pain relievers from you as well?” You asked, finishing up the last bit of pancakes. You laid your back against the headboard, the paper plate and plastic fork in hand.
“Yup, it scared me how much vodka you had drunk.” There was pity in his eyes as he said it. He saw how much was left in the bottle you held while you slept and it petrified him. For a second he thought you had died, but his worries were quickly washed away when he felt a pulse.
“Well yeah, you’ll have to remind me in the coming days.”
You trailed off, remembering your sorrow and pain from last night. You set down the now empty plate and fork onto the trail and took the glass of water from the night stand. Roger frowned seeing you still weren’t over what ever had happen. He thought that he might get punched for asking the question, but it was inevitable.
“So, what happened?”
You continued drinking your water, not really wanting to answer. You wanted to put it off for as long as possible, but Rog was persistent.
“You know you’ll have to talk about it sooner or later. It’s not healthy to keep it in, especially since you almost killed yourself over it.”
You stopped drinking and took a deep sigh. He was right.
“Zach and I broke up. He-” Your breath hitched and tears threatened to flood down your cheek.
Roger reddened, at the mention of Zach’s name. He always thought he condescending asshole. He’d always try to play nice around him just so you could be happy, but there were times when he couldn’t. He’d tell you that he was a dick or a pisshat. You’d always tell him to give Zach a chance, but deep down inside you agreed with every little statement.
“What’d the bloody wanker do?”
The anger in his eyes was terrifying. They were like lightning bolts that were about to strike at any moment, any where.
“He almost punched me, but he missed. He left a hole in the wall instead.”
You spoke softly as a tear rolled down your left cheek. You would have shrugged it off convincing Roger it wasn’t a big deal, but you couldn’t lie. You were horror-struck.
Meanwhile, Roger would have gone into complete hysterics if he wasn’t sitting on your bed at the moment. He tried to compose himself, but he couldn’t. He was ready to throw tables. He was ready to smack the Zach into the bloody ocean. He tensed up everywhere and you noticed his arms’ veins were completely evident. His gaze went dark as he angrily grit through his teeth.
“I’ll kill him.”
You put a hand on his arm, trying your best to get him to calm down. You stroke his arm gently, as he directed his attention back to you.
“Rog, I’m fine, no scars, no cuts. I’m just scared he might come looking for me.”
“I promise I won’t let that happen. I’ll always be there for you.”
He gave you a badly needed hugged, as he realised you needed to be comforted first and foremost. Despite the tight hug, it felt kind and tender. You sank into the hug as it was the first time someone had touched you with such affection and care. You truly felt loved.
Just a touch and a thought and I was gone
It had been days since the incident and you were relatively fine. You hadn’t seen Zach anywhere and you were starting to get back on your feet. Roger had really helped you get back to your normal self. He’d always speak out about his desire to “beat the shit and bullocks out the bloody cunt”, but you’d assure him, you didn’t even want to hear about him anymore.
Tonight was your first night out since, and Roger was accompanying you to be your wingman of sorts. He had thoroughly convinced you to get out and mingle and you had finally gave in. He had also invited Fred, Brian and John, but they all had turned it down last minute; something about them all going to the same meeting. It was a very bullshit excuse, but you and Rog didn’t really mind. It was high time the two of you had some best friend bonding anyways.
You were looking through dresses in your wardrobe, when you had finally found the perfect one. You went with a sparkly tube that ended mid-thigh; You thought it would do nicely with the white pair of boots you had bought the other day. You looked in the mirror, checking yourself out for a moment before you heard a voice from your bedroom doorway.
“I’d check myself out too if I were you.”
You looked back to see the blonde drummer himself, leaning against the door frame. A blush spread throughout your cheeks at his flirtatious comment; his flirtatious comments were quite regular, but you couldn’t help but blush.
Ever since he comforted you, you couldn’t help but feel more amorous around him. You’ve tried to brush it off, but your little crush on your best friend was growing stronger and stronger by the minute.
“Uh yeah well we should get going, before it gets too crowded.”
You hid your face behind your purse as you walked past him. He looked at you in confusion, wondering why you’d become so embarrassed all of a sudden, because you usually had some witty remark ready, but he followed nonetheless.
The walk to bar was relatively normal; you both talked about your day at university. You couldn’t help but stare intently into his eyes during conversation. You mentally scolded yourself for looking at him so love-struck.
By the time you had gotten to the bar, the chaotic atmosphere was in full swing. The pungent aroma of alcohol filled the air as you both stepped in. You both looked at each other knowing exactly what to do. He headed to bar to get some drinks while you searched for a booth. You pushed past the crowd to find a small booth by the corner of the bar. You slipped and looked around, really taking in the scene.
You toyed with the hem of the dress you wore, not really knowing what else to do. You came here feeling pretty confident, but now you really just wished you were home alone with Rog, playing scrabble. You came to impress the masses, but you were having second thoughts. You realised that the only reason you agreed to this whole night out thing was to impress Roger.
It seemed to always be about him.
You pressed your head against the table, realising just how strong you’d fallen in love with him. It was pathetic to say the least. You had fallen in love with a rising drummer who is known to steal the hearts of many. How could one compete?
You had barely spent five minutes in the pub, but you knew it wasn’t going to be a fun night. You decided you were gonna tell him this whole thing was too much for you and you were going to head home. You stood up from your booth and went to the bar.
When you got there, you found several girls fawning over him; You felt that he was the Queen Helen at times, just like Helen, his handsome face could start bloody wars.
You hoped that maybe he would accompany you home and you could hang out, but it was obvious he going home with someone who definitely wasn’t you. You squeezed through the crowd of females, before Roger noticed you and called out your name.
“(Y/N)! Sorry, I got a bit carried away.” He gestured towards the girls who cornered him into the tight spot.
“It’s fine. I’m just gonna head home, I remembered as assignment or two due tomorrow.” You lied, not really looking at him.
He was too drunk to hear you over the loud music, but he nodded thinking you said that you were going to head home with someone. There was a ping of jealousy that shot through his veins, but he ignored it. This was your night, he wasn’t going to stop you from having any fun.
You were a bit scared to leave all alone, but you quickly pushed those those thoughts away as you walked towards the exit. As you left the pub, rain started pouring. You rolled your eyes, sarcastically thanking the world for such great luck. You ran home as fast as you could but by the time you got home, you were soaking wet and too tired to do anything. You just changed into dry clothes and fell asleep on the couch whilst watching an episode of coronation street.
Why do all the red flags
Just look like so much fun, oh
I have a habit of searching for the damage
To share my love
You were out with your friend, Maria, having a chatting over some tea at cafe near the University. You were talking about random things that came to mind, until she brought up your love life.
“So, I heard you finally broke up with that awful douchebag, Zach.” She raised an eyebrow, hoping it was very much true. You just nodded in response, not really wanting to talk about it.
“Well, have you been out since?”
“Nope, but I did go to the pub with Rog the other night. I left early, but he went home with someone else.”
Your eyes lit up when you Roger’s name, but it quickly faded when you remembered he didn’t go home with you. Someone else ended up in his arms that night. Maria noticed this very clearly and did not hesitate to bring it up.
“Do you fancy Roger?”
She asked simply, taking a sip of her tea. You blushed, not really knowing how to respond. You hadn’t told anyone about your sudden intrigue towards him, so your mind was trying to find a response, before your friend answered the question herself.
“Oh my god, you have! You’re absolutely flustered.” She pointed at your cheeks that were as red as ever. She laughed at how embarrassed you were over it.
“Can you shut up! Nobody knows.” You scolded her, swatting her hands away. You drank some of your tea, to hide the increasing temperature of your cheeks as Maria calmed down.
“As much as I love your little friendship, that’s a really bad idea.” She said seriously. You put your cup down, listening to what she had to say.
“I mean no offense, but Roger’s well Roger. Literally everyone knows him as hot drummer you have to take home at the end of the night. You’re just you. You probably just fell in love with him, because you had no one else to love.
You were a tad offended by it. You could possibly in a relationship with infamous drummer, Roger Taylor, right? You thought she was probably just jealous that you had been friends since high school, while she was just another girl in the long list of girls that wanted to talk to him. You were also very sure loved him. You didn’t think of him as just some rebound that you’d stick with until you found someone better. You thought that he was that someone better.
You tried your best to assure yourself that you weren’t a pathetic loser who had fallen in love Roger throughout the rest of your meeting with Maria.
In the end, you didn’t really succeed and you were starting to hope your infatuation was just passing.
People will tell me that I messed up
And it wasn't love
And I'm secretly hoping they are right
“Hey (Y/N), I’m sorry I let you leave alone.”
Roger suddenly blurted from across the couch. You raised your head up from the book you were reading. You wondered why he had brought it up in this particular moment. You were both across each other reading books when he had brought up the subject.
This was the first time in a while that you were together, silent. You have been refrained from seeing him too much, because you were trying to let your crush on him die in peace, but it just wouldn’t. You decided today you’d have a lazy saturday and lounge around. It just so happened that you both decided to read a book in the living room right after breakfast.
“What do you mean?” You furrowed your eyebrows, not really sure if he was talking about that night.
“I mean the first night you went out in a while. I thought you said you were going home with someone else.” He said empathetically completely putting down the book he was reading to join you on your side of the couch.
“It’s fine really, don’t worry about it.” You said going back to your book, continuing where you left off. That was when he stole the book from your grasp and tossed it aside, allowing you to focus on him.
“Ro-”
“It’s not okay. You were still recovering from asshat, Zach. What if he had found you that night?”
You just realised that possibility; you hadn’t noticed it with everything running through your mind that night, but you thought it was fine now. You were fire. Everything was fine.
“It’s fine I ran home, it was raining.” You said, looking away. Roger frowned seeing you weren’t going to budge. He scooted back the slightest bit and gave you some room to breathe.
“I just care about you a lot.” His whisper almost was almost inaudible, but you not absolutely.
“I really am fine. I’d tell you if I felt otherwise, promise.” You said looking back at him, meaning what you said. He sighed, before speaking up again.
“Then why have you been avoiding me the whole week? It’s like I barely even see you anymore and we live in the same apartment!” He said throwing his arms up. You bit your lip, wondering if this was the best time.
“Rog, I don’t think it-”
“Please.”
He looked at you pleadingly. He did not like not seeing you, he hated it. He missed the way you lit up a room with your smile. It was like his sun had been gone the whole week. He was starting to worry if he had done something wrong and that was when he remembered the night you both went out.
When he came back home in the morning, he saw you still sleeping on the couch. He realised he had misheard and you had actually gone home by yourself. He had been filled with guilt since then.
“I think I love you, okay?” You admitted quietly as you looked down, fiddling with your fingers.
“You think?” He asks. He was obviously ecstatic at the idea that you loved him, but wondered why you thought so. He wondered why you weren’t sure.
“It’s just that you’re you! I don’t know why I just fell for you all of sudden. I started noticing all these little things about you and they just made me fall deeper and deeper. I thought it would just go away, but it hasn’t. You keep me up at night, Roger Taylor.” You finished, taking a deep breathe.
“What if I told you I loved you too?”
“Well then I’d guess I’d have no choice, but to love you back. I mean this whole wanting to kiss you and everything isn’t going away.” You joked, trying to lighten up the mood.
“Well, I’ve loved you for quite some time, if you must know.”
“Yeah that’s funny.”
You laughed, while Roger did not really know how to respond. You thought he joking back, but he was dead serious. You realised this and stopped laughing abruptly.
“Wait, really?”
“Yes, you’re really just oblivious aren’t you?”
You blinked once and pinched yourself to ensure this wasn’t a dream. You were surprised to find out it in fact was not. Your (E/C) eyes went wide as you looked at his blue ones, which were waiting for any kind of response.
“(Y/N)?” He asked waving a hand in front of you. You snapped out of your trance and tried to speak, but it all just came out as jumbled words.
“Me? Like? You? Too? Some Time?!” You mumbled as Roger laughed at the priceless look on your face. You seemed to be absolutely surprised to this revelation. Two people who have been best friends and living with each other for over 5 years fall in love? You thought it didn’t add up.
“I could just save you some and kiss you if you’d like?” He said as your stomach did backflips at the mere thought of it. You nodded as he cupped your face and pressed his lips against yours.
You hummed happily at how sweet it was. Funnily enough, the kiss was what brought you back to reality; you started to kiss back. Your lips were both in sync with one another as if they had been aching to meet each other for such a long time. When you both pulled away, all you could think is about kissing him again.
“Yes I do love you.”
“Sure?”
“Positive.”
Oh, I really hope I don't love you
~~~~~~~~~
#roger taylor#roger taylor x reader#roger taylor x you#roger taylor imagines#roger taylor imagine#qnr2kchallenge#queen#queen imagines#queen imagine#queen x reader#queen x you#fluff#you#you by dodie clark#1970s#imagine#imagines#x reader#x you#fluffy#homygodifeellikeshit#i really love dodie also#like#love love#yes yes#skjfdf#anyways#im supposed to be awake in 4 hours#so goodbye#also im sick
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gruvia drabble
author’s note: i get inspired by the most insignificant little things and i have no idea where im gonna go w this fic but...... juvia is so BEAUTIFUL omfg n i literally just wanna write a fic ab gray appreciating that. that’s it lmao. enjoy my loves!!!<333
**another note: haha oh ok it turned into something kinda rly different! its fine ig! psa im ab to kinda rant so u can skip this if u want!! if u wanna read this part it might be better to do it after u read the fic???? these arent spoilers its just kinda behind the scenes of ig.. ok so i try to think of gruvia in the most realistic sense possible. i incorporated gray having crushes bc simply, i think its true. i think gray had a crush on erza and lucy. i also think gray didnt fall in love w juvia at first sight lmao. i think it took a lot of time for gray to understand what juvia meant to him. also i find it INFURIATING that gray has never commented on juvias looks lmaooo (to my knowledge). like he said lucy and erza were pretty (at least in the anime) and literally all i want is for gray to acknowledge how fuckin BEAUTIFUL juvia is ongogmgogm. ok ok yes he commented "you're mine" and said "ur body is something i care about" and a whole lot of other romantic things but he has never made a comment solely on juvias looks and ik looks dont matter and im sure its hard for gray to even think ab juvias looks considering all the personality she has but literally all i want is a "ur cute". like thats all i need lmao. my girl needs recognition for being the most beautiful person EVER!! so yeah this fic is me trying to process how gray sees juvia, and even tho he doesnt say it, i can at least tell myself this is his thought process lmaooo. ((he also prolly doesn't say shes cute cus it would be way too embarrassing for him considering he has like actual real feelings for her)) ok ignore me literally typing word vomit lol pls enjoy ilysm. (((this rant is longer than the fucking fic. i cri.))))
*
Gray always had crushes.
It was normal, but Gray never really reflected on it until now.
First, there was Erza. They were just kids. When she first joined the guild, Gray thought she was weird, but he soon found out she was much more than that. She challenged him. Not only physically, but mentally and emotionally too. He wanted to figure her out. She had a complexity that he never experienced before, and he was intrigued by it. Soon, the curiosity of the pretty girl with the scarlet hair molded into an admiration. He admired her beauty, her ability, and her heart, and the attraction just fizzled away over time.
Then, there was Lucy. This one was far simpler, and didn't hurt Gray's brain as much to try to comprehend. She was cute. She was quirky. She was a fresh face he saw around the guild. He couldn't deny the instant attraction he felt towards her, and he didn't necessarily try to fight it either. The bond was harmless, and Gray never expected anything to come from it, nor did he try to advance it in any way. She was just Lucy. A friend, a guildmate, and a teammate. While a part of him was inclined to make some sort of move, an even larger part of him didn't feel right about it. That small part that inquired for something more seemed to die out as well, and while he wasn't sure why at first, he was finally starting to realize what it was.
Finally, there's Juvia, who he would hardly ever consider a crush. Honestly, at first, nothing really struck him. She was pretty he supposed, but had an odd look. She had a dull personality. She was nothing special. Just another enemy to take out. That was all until their first fight came to an end. A piece of her did stand out to Gray, and it stuck to him. He wasn't sure why, but it did.
Then, time went on. Juvia's personality completely flourished, and it was like she became a whole new person. While Gray at first saw her mostly as an annoyance, it transformed into something completely foreign to him. He never knew how to place this feeling, and even now he still has trouble comprehending Juvia from time to time. While he wasn't sure how to feel about her, he did always know that she was something special. She was there for him like no one else was. She supported, helped, and loved him more than anyone. He was completely overcome by all of her. He was so overwhelmed by her love, it took him a long time to realize just how much he needed and cherished it. He needed that warmth in his cold, seemingly tragic life. While the people in his past died for him, she lived for him. He only recently realized that in some ways, that was much harder, and it was certainly much more meaningful.
She did have her faults though, as all people do. She was completely neurotic, clingy, emotional, short-tempered, dramatic, and just--well-- a weirdo, but...
he loved her.
He loved her strength, her devotion, her kindness, her optimism towards life, her enthusiasm, her humor (even when she didn't mean to be funny), and well- he just loved everything about her. Even the bits mentioned earlier that seemed not so great. He loved it all.
He had a hard time even calling Juvia a crush, truthfully. The way he felt towards her was far stronger than anything he'd felt for anyone else. Erza and Lucy held a place in his heart at one point, but now, Juvia was the whole thing. She owned every last part of it. It was a feat neither of the former girls possessed, and he didn't think anyone other than Juvia ever could.
And as he sat at a table across from the three women he ever had romantic feelings for in his life: Erza, Lucy, and Juvia, and pondered on these thoughts, he decided not only did Juvia have an amazing soul, she was damn beautiful too.
The strange thing was, Juvia was always pretty. But unlike his former crushes, he never really seemed to take the time to admire Juvia's looks. It was her personality that always stuck out to Gray.
But when he did take the time to sit and just look at her... wow. Erza and Lucy couldn't even hold a candle to her.
It was remarkable, honestly. She was nothing like any girl he had ever seen before. She was totally unique. Her hair was the perfect shade of blue that accompanied her perfect waves, making her mane resemble that of a beautiful ocean that he would absolutely love to get lost in. Her bangs fell perfectly over her hooded eyes that were coated in long lashes, and in them held a deep blue escape that were her eyes. Oh god, her eyes. They could tell you a whole story those damned things. Gray never had to ask her what she was feeling, because her eyes always said it all. Natsu was sitting beside him at the time, and said something that caused Juvia to laugh. Her plump, naturally pouted lips turned into a big beautiful grin in an instant. Gray wasn't sure what Natsu said, but it must've been pretty funny, because she then covered her mouth as she began to laugh even louder, and Gray was wishing she didn't hide behind her petite hands. After the laugh fest was over, she regained her composure and tucked an unruly blue lock behind her ear, and closed her mouth as her lips parted into a content grin, and just that small gesture shamefully drove Gray crazy. She was a masterpiece.
He decided he didn't stop to think about how breathtaking she was so much, because then it would turn into this. It became Gray relishing in every little detail Juvia possessed, and every mannerism she did. He never felt the need to look at a girl like that before, with such interest in detail. The feeling that took over when he really looked at Juvia was far too strong for him to comprehend too often. It was a feeling completely unfamiliar to him until he saw her. While his emotions about her were a lot for him to handle sometimes, he was thankful for it.
He was grateful for every last part of her.
"Gray-sama, are you alright?" She tilted her head ever so slightly, causing the tides of her hair to fall in a new, but beautiful way, and her eyes were filling with harmless concern. She must've finally caught him staring.
"U-uh yeah." He stammered. "I'm good."
"You're sure?" Her eyes began to flood with more worry, and she reached her hand across the table, holding onto his. Her soft, milky skin clashed with his rough feel, but they somehow fit perfectly together. He flinched at first, but instead of throwing a fit for his hatred of PDA, he decided he'd let their hands be. He wanted to take every part of her in right now.
"Yeah." He smirked, and slightly squeezed onto her hand, not caring about Natsu, Lucy, Erza, or anyone seeing them at that moment in time. She was all his. Not only was she his, but she was it. She was really the one.
"I'm just fine."
#doyouevenshipbr0#gray x juvia#gruvia#juvia x gray#gruvia fanfic#fanfiction#gruvia fanfiction#fanfic#gruvia drabble#fairy tail#juvia#juvia lockser
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since it’s late n u guys have been so encouraging
i wanna preface this by saying....im not a Writer and this is pretty much the first wrestling-related thing i’ve ever written. also this was written at 3 am yesterday so pls keep that in mind ALSO it’s not very. romantic bc 1.) im not good with that stuff and 2.) it’s kinda covering the early stages of their relationship so they’re barely even friends yet! (this takes place right before war games!)
that being said thanks for being so nice abt it guys ur all the sweetest and i love u and i’m sorry this isn’t Better but constructive criticism would be appreciated! mwah!
Pete tapped his fist against his jaw in a needless effort to hype himself up.
The guaranteed brutality of his upcoming match didn’t faze him—brutality was his specialty, after all— but despite that, he couldn’t shake off an uncomfortable feeling.
Maybe it was the thought of having to rely on others for his victory, or maybe it was the thought of them relying on him. Neither were things that he was exactly used to.
He wondered, when the time came, if he would put himself in harm’s way for the sake of the others.
Pete thought of the last time he had relied on someone. It was ironic in a way, how the same person he had tentatively began to trust would be one of his opponents tonight.
He had never really thought of Roderick as a friend, just a sort of unavoidable ally. His eagerness had been irritating as was his general disposition, but Pete had chosen to put his trust in him. A choice he’d come to regret.
He liked to believe that the betrayal had made him all the more dangerous now. Not only could he use his desire for vengeance to his advantage, he’d also be sure not to make a mistake like that again.
Pete had operated just fine on his own for as long as he could remember. There were a select few times where he’d tried opening up, and each time he paid for it. It took a few experiences for the lesson to be drilled into his brain, but at least now there was no way he could forget it.
He should stick with what he knew best, and what he knew best was solitude.
Keep interactions short and bitter. You look out for one person, and that person is yourself. Everyone else is simply an obstacle or dead weight.
It was a philosophy he lived by, and one he truly believed in. There just happened to be times where he’d let it slip and thought maybe, just maybe, someone could be an exception. But they never were.
A steady knock on the locker room door disrupted his thoughts. A faint feeling of pain registered in Pete’s jaw as he realized he’d been tapping his fist against it this whole time. Before he could say anything, the door opened and Ricochet’s head popped in.
“You got a minute?”
Pete didn’t answer, he just raised an eyebrow when he noticed something in Ricochet’s hands. It looked like a tube of toothpaste.
Ricochet followed his gaze and held up the object, wiggling it in his hand. “Oh, this? Yeah, it’s kinda why I’m here, actually.” He walked up to Pete and held it out to him. Pete read the label, which only confused him more.
“White….face paint?”
The other man adjusted his North American Championship on his shoulder. “Yeah. Y’know, war paint for tonight. It was Hanson and Rowe’s idea. They figured we should at least look like a cohesive unit.”
“What’s the point of that?” Pete deadpanned. “Face paint won’t get us a win against Undisputed Era.”
Ricochet looked at a loss for a second, then sighed. “C’mon man. It’s to pump you up, get you excited to kick some ass. Plus it’ll look cool, yeah?”
Pete wasn’t very convinced, but he wasn’t in the mood to argue. He did admittedly like the idea of amping up the intimidation factor, not that he was going to tell Ricochet that. “Fine. Might as well fool people into thinking we’re a real team.”
“S’that supposed to mean? We’re a real team. Cole and his cronies are gonna see just how real we are tonight.” Ricochet declared, giving Pete a few taps on the chest.
Pete stiffened at the contact and glared at the highflier. Ricochet was someone who currently fell under the obstacle category in Pete’s eyes. He hadn’t forgotten the match where both their titles had been on the line. They never received closure, and Pete intended to change that next time they crossed paths in the ring.
He’d prefer for Ricochet to stay an obstacle rather than become dead weight.
“I’ve said it before, you’re just a guy carrying a piece of gold that I want. As for the other two, they’ve already got each other. We may be on the same side, but we’re not a team.”
The grin on Ricochet’s face weakened a bit. “Man do you like, practice this stuff in a mirror before you talk to anyone?” He chuckled at his own joke—was it a joke? The weight of Pete’s words didn’t seem to mean much to him, however, as he quickly bounced back. “Anyway, face paint, yes or no?”
“Sure.” Pete said.
“Great.” Ricochet tossed the tube of paint to Pete. “Doll me up.”
Pete barely caught the tube in time. He whipped his head up to face Ricochet, trying to make sure he had heard him correctly. “What?”
Ricochet had placed his title on the bench next to him and met Pete’s gaze expectantly. “What? I can’t put it on myself. There’s no mirror in here.”
“Then find one.”
“No can do.” He almost looked smug, as if he had planned this. “Bathroom’s closed for repairs, apparently Kyle and Bobby thought it’d be fun to flush Sullivan’s gear down the toilet. He caught ‘em in the act.” Ricochet let out a whistle. “It wasn’t pretty.”
Pete didn’t want to hear any more. For whatever reason, Ricochet was intent on sporting war paint, he might as well indulge him. After tonight, he could set his sights on what really mattered.
“Alright. C’mere.” Pete placed his championship on the bench opposite of Ricochet’s and squeezed some paint onto his fingers.
He lifted his hand only to pause suddenly, leaving it hovering in front of Ricochet’s face. “What’s their paint look like anyways?”
Ricochet thought for a moment. “It’s like…a V shape on each cheek.” He explained, tracing the motion over Pete’s cheeks with his finger. “Simple enough.”
“Right.” Pete grunted, doing everything he could to ignore the way his face had heated up. He pressed his fingers to Ricochet’s face and began painting the design, trying his best to keep his hand steady.
Pete came to a halt when Ricochet started giggling quietly. He gave him a strange look, pulling his hand away.
The other man took a moment to compose himself, then cleared his throat. “Tickles.” Came the simple explanation. Pete rolled his eyes and continued with his work, retracing the lines to smooth out the jagged edges.
He paused again to add more paint to his fingers, avoiding Ricochet’s gaze. Pete could feel the man looking at him and unconsciously tossed his head a bit to let his hair cover his face.
As Pete started on the other cheek, he noticed Ricochet hadn’t stopped staring at him at him, almost amusingly.
“What?” Pete finally asked, with a hint of challenge.
Ricochet seemed unbothered. “You’re just a lot more careful than I thought you’d be” He said, a little quieter than usual. It was unclear if the remark was meant to be teasing. It seemed sincere enough, but even if it was Pete wasn’t sure what the implications were.
Pete said nothing and averted his eyes again, finishing with a final swipe. “There.” He muttered. “All done.”
“Great! I’ll just have to trust that it looks good.” Ricochet reached up to touch his freshly painted face, then decided against it. “Alright, your turn!”
Pete froze, he hadn’t thought that far ahead.
He wasn’t particularly keen on anyone paying close attention to his face.
It was bumpy and weird; he knew this. Acne scars and uneven stubble were just the beginning of it. It was something he’d learned to accept, but he wasn’t exactly dying for others to get a good look at it.
Regardless, he knew Ricochet wouldn’t take no for an answer. If he had, Pete wouldn’t have just spent the past few minutes spreading paint on his face in uncomfortable silence.
Ricochet took the paint tube from Pete’s hands. “You mind uh…” He made a hair flip motion. “Getting that out of the way?”
Pete looked down at his hands, covered in white paint, and decided to go with option two. He swung his head to the side—a little too forcefully—and flipped the blond mess back. He was satisfied for a moment before it came toppling back down in his face.
It was times like this where he seriously reconsidered growing out his hair.
“I gotchu.” Ricochet intervened, looking even more amused than before. He tucked Pete’s hair behind his ear to keep it from coming loose again. “Sure got a lot of hair homeboy.” He commented.
“Guess you can’t relate.” Pete replied bluntly.
Ricochet laughed out loud at that, almost too eager to make fun of himself. “Guess not.” He emptied what was left of the paint into his hand and got to work. Pete winced at the cold feeling, trying not to pull away. “But you know,” Ricochet continued. “The lack of hair could be the secret to my speed.”
Pete wasn’t fully sure if he was joking. “I reckon that’s why you got pieces missing in your eyebrows too?”
The highflier laughed again, this time not as loud, but a huge smile graced his face. “Man, you’re alright.”
Ricochet spread the paint on Pete’s cheeks with ease, moving just as smoothly as he did in the ring. Pete fought with everything he had to try not to break out into a fit of laughter. Ricochet was right, the feeling made him ticklish. His lip curved upward in a smile that he quickly pushed away.
“All set.” Ricochet finally announced, looking proud of his work. Pete didn’t doubt that the man had probably done a better job than him. “Now we look like a force to be reckoned with.”
Pete held couldn’t help but soften his expression a bit. He felt cool, and far more relaxed than earlier. Once again, he wasn’t going to tell Ricochet that, but he appreciated the feeling. “If painting faces keeps you from screwing up tonight, then so be it.” He replied with a shrug.
Ricochet shook his head, and if Pete didn’t know any better he’d say he was annoyed. “You never quit do you? Y’know we can do this whole rivalry thing without all the little remarks, yeah?”
“Cause make no mistake,” Ricochet’s tone grew serious. “I’m just as focused on that title of yours as you are on mine.”
The sudden change surprised Pete, but it didn’t faze him. After all, this was why he kept up his guard so high. He knew behind every person there was a set of intentions, and each interaction with him was a means of achieving them.
“I’m well aware.” Pete said evenly. “S’why I’m not buying this partner ruse. We’re not friends, and we never will be.”
Ricochet paused for a moment. “Just ‘cause you’re a future opponent, doesn’t mean we can’t be on the same page now. It’s no ruse, I’ve got your back tonight. I mean that.”
“Better to have your own back first.”
Ricochet lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck, looking unsure of where to go from there.
“You’re a tough nut to crack.” He said finally, leaning down to grab his North American championship. When he came back up, he was smiling again. “But I’m willing to prove where my loyalties lie out there. There’s no hiding in the ring.”
Pete eyed him for a moment, then nodded briskly. “That’s one thing we can agree on.”
“I’ve got another. We both wanna beat the hell out of those undisputed assholes, right?” Ricochet offered. “That snake Roddy’s gonna be out there tonight. If you ask me, you should focus on giving him the ass whopping he’s had coming instead of making enemies out of your partners.”
An odd silence followed his words. Pete didn’t know how to respond, and Ricochet’s intense gaze wasn’t making it any easier. In his heart Pete knew he had a point.
He was more than willing to take on all four members of the Undisputed Era himself, but he knew realistically he wouldn’t come out victorious. He needed Ricochet and the War Raiders whether he liked it or not.
Just one night couldn’t be so bad, right? Even if it involved putting his faith in other people. Ricochet had nothing to gain from betraying him. Hanson and Rowe, he wasn’t so sure, but considering how fixated they had been on the Undisputed Era for the past several weeks, it was unlikely.
Ricochet saved Pete from having to muster up an answer by reaching over and picking up his United Kingdom Championship. Pete’s eyes widened and he tensed up, ready to snatch it out of his hands.
There was no need to, however, as Ricochet placed it snugly on Pete’s shoulder.
He gave it a few pats, admiring the intricate design on the belt for several moments.
Ricochet took a few steps back, his own title sitting around his waist. “You look good.” He said finally. “Let’s do work tonight, mate.”
Pete’s partner tossed the now empty paint tube in his hand once, then turned to saunter off.
“Not your mate.” Pete replied in a half-hearted protest. He couldn’t see Ricochet’s face as he left the room, but Pete knew he was smiling.
“By the way, the bathroom’s perfectly fine. Just figured we could use a team bonding exercise.”
#heh#there u go#like i said not very romantic#but idk ihope u enjoy! thanks for being so nice guys <3333333#mine#ig#writing for wrestlers like pete or dean is really really hard#cuz i love them so much im afraid im gonna mess them up
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Find yourself and grow - bnha
this has nothing to do with the prompt but it inspired this s oooooooooo yup
Kirishima stared at the ceiling. An uncertain sort of energy thrummed through him, his eyes exhausted and bones like jelly but unable to close his eyes, his mind active but muted like a frizzled television.
He didn’t have the energy to get up but he didn’t have the ability to sleep, so Kirishima leaned over and grabbed his phone. Turning it on started a small headache right behind his eyes but Kirishima didn’t know what else to do, so he scrolled through a few social media sites, staring but not seeing.
A snapchat notification appeared at the top of his screen. [BROCCOLI BOI is typing…]
Kirishima narrowed his eyes and waited for the consecutive “BROCCOLI BOI has sent you a snap!”, but it never came.
He went to snapchat anyway, hovering over Izuku’s name for only a second before clicking.
[you] hey i saw u typing u up
Kirishima waited, hoping that Izuku was actually up and that snapchat didn’t glitch on him. Izuku’s profile bubbled, indicating that he was typing, and Kirishima let out a breath of relief.
[BROCCOLI BOI] yea sorry about that haha!
[BROCCOLI BOI] just a lil tired didnt want to bother u
[you] no worries i’m up too
[BROCCOLI BOI] you really should be getting sleep! sleep is incredibly important for lots of things
[you] i could say the same to u bro
[you] why u up?
[BROCCOLI BOI] why r u up?
[you] uh couldnt sleep
[BROCCOLI BOI] me neither
[you] ah
[BROCCOLI BOI] u should go to sleep tho
[you] u first
[BROCCOLI BOI] i can’t
[you] me neither
[you] i’m so tired i can’t get up but i cant fall asleep
[BROCCOLI BOI] wanna hang out in the lobby
[you] i just said im too tired to get up
[BROCCOLI BOI] but ur awake
[BROCCOLI BOI] i can carry u
[you] dude no i’m rlly heavy
[you] comes w the perks of being a literal rock
[BROCCOLI BOI] is that a challenge
[you] i mean go off deku
[BROCCOLI BOI] brt
“Oh my god,” Kirishima said aloud, running a hand down his face. “Oh man.”
Not a minute later he heard knocking before his door swung open, Midoriya genuinely standing in his threshold with All Might pajama pants and a plain red t-shirt.
Kirishima started sitting up, the fatigue receding for a moment as he laughed in shock. “I can’t believe you’re here, Midori– ah!” Kirishima yelped in surprise as Midoriya strode forwards and leaned down, placing his arms under Kirishima’s knees and behind his shoulders, picking him up effortlessly.
“Midoriya!” Kirishima threw his arms around Midoriya’s shoulders in shock, his body tensing instinctively.
A dusting of pink was brushed on Midoriya’s cheeks, but he said, “You aren’t that heavy, you know.”
Kirishima stared at him.
Midoriya shifted, then, looking more and more awkward. “I’m… I’m sorry? Uh. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Uh.”
“This is the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me,” Kirishima said, in awe. And wow, this was not great for his mini crush, honestly.
Mini. Yeah, okay.
Midoriya’s flush grew deeper but he didn’t set Kirishima down, instead positioning him into a more comfortable hold and stepping away from the bed. “So, uh, to the commons?”
“Let’s go to the rec room,” Kirishima said. The commons was always colder than the rec room, being so close to the entrance.
“The rec room…?” Midoriya said slowly. “There’s…?”
“Holy– okay, Midoriya, prepare to have your mind blown,” Kirishima said, gesturing with one hand for emphasis. “It’s like the commons but with like, way more pillows, and a way better TV, it’s hidden though, and there’s a code, you gotta follow it, okay?”
“Alright,” Midoriya said, laughter in his voice. “Lead the way, then?”
Kirishima flushed and wrapped his arms around Midoriya’s shoulders and neck again. He could probably walk, especially after Midoriya hyping him up about the rec room, but who was he to turn down such a rare experience?
Kirishima led him through the hallways, Midoriya giving him strange looks when he told him to go through the boiler room to get there. They eventually reached a door with a wooden sign. Which, in reality, was more of a wooden slab pinned to the door. Burnt into the wood said “enter if you dare”.
Kirishima exuberantly gestured to the door. “Here it is! All your hopes and dreams behind these hallowed doors!”
Midoriya glanced at him, then turned his gaze pointedly at the wood, a blush creeping up his neck as he muttered, “doubt it.”
“Hey dude, okay, I gotta–” Kirishima struggled out of Midoriya’s arms, now wide-awake and excited. “Initiation. So. You are about to enter the former abode of the hero squad known as Burnout.”
Midoriya hide his smile at Kirishima’s grave expression and jazz hands.
“Burnout found this abandoned room years ago and renovated it. They’re inspirations, really, and there’s rules pinned around the room that we have to follow or the room will reject us,” Kirishima said, nodding seriously. “A main one: no telling teachers. Legend says a member attempted to inform a teacher and they were never seen again…” Kirishima said lowly, then added, “just kidding! They were unable to use their quirk for a few hours. And they lost the trust of everyone else, obviously.”
“That sounds easy enough,” Midoriya said, mind already running through the possible quirks with such a power. It would have to encompass the room, but also be able to effect any who knew about it – including technically him as well, unless the rules weren’t enacted until he entered the room itself. Then the quirk had to be able to cause losing another quirk for a select amount of time by spoken word, maybe? These rules sounded awfully hard to enforce, and –
“’Doriya, my dude,” Kirishima punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Stay with me my man, that was only one.”
“Ah, sorry!” Midoriya blushed and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
“Rule number two,” Kirishima said, holding up two fingers. “No fighting. Real fighting, since it can tell the difference, somehow. Quirk usage is okay, but once it gets too… real, you gotta take it outside. That one makes you really tired, I know from experience.”
“…okay,” Midoriya said, deciding life would be easier the less questions he asked. Less time spent talking, the sooner they’d actually go in.
“Those are the most important ones I guess,” Kirishima mused, shrugging. “Alright, Midoriya, initiation over!”
Kirishima pushed the door open and beckoned Midoriya in, letting the door fall shut after Midoriya had entered.
“Welcome to the rec room!” Kirishima said proudly, like he was presenting a personal accomplishment.
The room could hold a decent amount of people while retaining that cozy size, with two couches, two recliners, and an uncountable amount of varying sizes and kinds of beanbags thrown about. Just as Kirishima promised, a large flat-screen sat on one wall, but a minifridge ran softly in the back of the room with a shaded window nearby.
“Wow,” Midoriya breathed. The walls were covered in old boards, giving the room a rustic feel.
Kirishima breezed by him and plopped onto one of the couches, sighing deeply. “Ah, it’s been too long.”
“When were you here last?” Midoriya asked.
“Two days ago,” Kirishima said. “Kaminari found it first, of course, so he told me and Sero, then Ashido because she beat him at arm wrestling, and Bakugou – I think Bakugou found it before all of us, honestly. Todoroki has totally been here before, too, the ice box in the mini fridge is always stocked – and maybe like, Tokoyami? Because that dude knows like, everything.”
Kirishima seemed to melt into the couch as he spoke, movements becoming more and more sluggish until he yawned. Midoriya took a step, hesitation pouring through his veins, because he didn’t want to intrude on Kirishima’s… on Kirishima.
Kirishima looked soft and pliable in a way Midoriya had never seen before, and the normally loud and expressive teen was… quiet, and tired, and yawning.
“Hey dude, wanna play like… video games or something?” Kirishima said.
“Maybe a movie,” Midoriya suggested, eyeing Kirishima’s drooping eyes as he finally made it to the couch and sat down gingerly.
“Dude let’s watch Pacific Rim,” Kirishima said. “You haven’t seen it, right?”
“I haven’t,” Midoriya said.
“Awesome.” Summoning energy from some deep energy source within him, Kirishima lurched from the couch and picked through a stack of movies next to the TV. While Kirishima was getting the movie ready, Midoriya glanced around the room.
Small post-its nailed – yes, nailed – to the wall littered the wood in pale yellow, pink, green, and the occasional green or orange pieces of paper. He read the nearest one to him: “Rule 31: if one of you little shits sticks ONE more piece of bubblegum to the ceiling you’re evicted”.
“Oh, yeah,” Kirishima said, noticing Midoriya’s gaze. “They added rules as time went on.”
Midoriya glanced at another one – a dark purple one with silver sharpie writing, sharp and jagged, with the words “Rule 12: NO SEX IN THIS ROOM YA NASTIES -from your neighborhood ace”.
Midoriya blinked, in surprise, shock, or embarrassment, or possibly a mixture of all three.
“I think the original three uh,” Kirishima cleared his throat. “Made a later member mad.”
“Oh my god,” Midoriya breathed, soft laughter falling from his lips.
Kirishima gazed at him for another second or two before flopping back onto the couch, pressing play. He was notably closer to Midoriya than when Midoriya had initially sat down, their arms almost (almost) brushing.
A few minutes in, Kirishima’s head dropped onto Midoriya’s shoulder.
By the fifteen minute mark, Kirishima was asleep.
Midoriya wasn’t sure how Kirishima managed to sleep through one of the most action-packed movies he’d ever seen, counting the All Might saga, without stirring once.
By the time the movie ended, Midoriya’s shoulder was asleep, but he didn’t dare move Kirishima – he looked softer, relaxed, while he slept, and Midoriya didn’t want to disrupt that.
However, after sitting in complete silence for a few minutes, TV black, Midoriya realized he’d have to move.
“Okay, Kiri,” Midoriya murmured mostly to himself, since Kirishima was sleeping. “Let’s get you back to your room.”
He propped Kirishima against the back of the couch and stood, cracking his back and rotating his shoulders, then leaned down and picked Kirishima up, throwing him over his shoulder. While the princess-hold had been great for dramatic effect and great because Midoriya got to see Kirishima’s expression, he wanted to have an open hand.
The halls were eerily quiet, as it was around three or four in the morning, but Midoriya’s stride was confident. He’d walked these halls at early times before.
Entering Kirishima’s room, Midoriya gently lay the teen on his obnoxiously colored sheets, pulling the comforter over his body and, unable to resist the temptation, gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.
He was almost out the door when a quiet, “Midoriya?” sounded from the bed.
He paused, door in hand, and tilted his head. “Yeah?”
“I really…” a yawn, then, “I really like you.”
Midoriya’s cheeks inflamed and he tensed, throat suddenly dry. He turned around completely, to craft a probably embarrassing babble of a response, but Kirishima was already sleeping again.
Midoriya shut the door as silently as he could, then sped-walked back to his room, having a mini-crisis.
He definitely wasn’t getting any more sleep tonight.
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odlt extra #1 | a very jet lagged valentine
‘but you havent even finished odlt yet’ shuuuuttt up
idk idk!!!! i was feeling Soft and slightly lonely on v-day for god knows what reason and i just,,,,,,, vomited this out!!! here is a teeny tiny break from all the Angst that the main fic has to offer. enjoy
PREVIOUS FICS (u should read these if ur new here)(srsly this is ethan x oc)
February 2018, aka when the European tour started.
CrankGameplays: “Happy valentine’s day! You’re my favorite person and im glad i get to experience all the things with you. Love you :)”
You’d think he would post one of the many decent candid photos he’s taken of me. You know, one where my highlight was catching the light, or one where I was smiling, or one of the two of us looking disgustingly adorable. But no, Ethan went with the photo he took of me passed out on our bed in our Amsterdam hotel room, my wavy pink hair sprawled out in an ungraceful manner. I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep, nor was he. It just happened. And now my sleepy self was all over Instagram.
Ethan was just as groggy when I shook him awake. Unlike me, he was a very handsy, cuddly being when he was sleepy. He rolled onto his side and groaned in the way he would when he wanted to hold me, so I scooted into his arms and let him.
His skin was warm and weirdly soothing. We were supposed to be getting out of bed… I was supposed to be insomniac due to sheer anxiety. Time zones were out to get us. Yet somehow, it felt like the holiday itself.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” I spoke softly into his collarbone.
He squeezed my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. “Did you see my picture?”
“Oh, did I.”
“I meant every word I said.”
Ah yes, that extra bit of validation. I smiled as I wrapped my arms around his waist. I had no idea what time it was, so I didn’t know how much time we had before we had to be in the lobby with everyone else.
“When’s the next time we’ll be alone a hotel room?” I asked, now looking up at Ethan.
He shrugged. “No idea. Why?”
“Do you think we’ll be able to sneak around like we did last time around?”
If he was struggling to wake up before, then my question sped up the process. He met my eyes, red tinting his cheeks. “Oh… I don’t know. Do you want to sneak around?”
“If we can,” I told him as I leaned in to kiss the crook of his neck. “If not then… we're alone now.”
That was all I had to say to make run late. Excuse: jet lag.
~
I was grumpy and tired when it was time to get up and do the tour thing all over again. I had a rough flight… or, two flights. We had stopped in London between flights, in which I had a panic attack and a case of the nervous shits while everyone else ate and tried not to fall asleep. Then, we were off to the Netherlands, where I fell asleep the second I got to the hotel. Ethan fell asleep too, but not before taking pictures of my sleeping, drooling face. I didn’t really mind that he would do that. I took my own photos of him while we were on the plane.
And that was what I posted on Instagram that morning in the shuttle on the way to the venue. I picked a selfie of me clutching a pillow to my chest on the plane ride over here. Ethan was in the seat next to me, his head tilted back as he slept. As sleep deprived and generally nervous as I was, I was seriously considering captioning the photo with something absolutely cheesy and deep. I actually started writing it out.
bellasanti: “To the guy who found me at my lowest point, who helped me get to where i am now… the person who has always been nothing but kind and wonderful since day 1. My biggest supporter and my best friend… I cant even begin to explain how lucky i am to have found you, and how proud i am of you and how far you’ve come. I love you more than words could describe 💙💖💙💖💙💖”
A small smile was etched on my face as I read the caption over and over again. I looked over at Ethan, who was practically standing as he “touched lenses” with Mark. They were both vlogging and being rather loud about it. More than a year later, and my heart still went all soft and mushy just by looking at Ethan do what he does best. Gross, I know.
Suddenly, the caption felt far too revealing. I had hit two million Instagram followers recently, plenty of which were also Ethan’s. Did I really want to expose bits and pieces of our relationship? I mean, it’s not like we interact a lot online, anyway. We liked to keep some things private. I copied the original caption, and then deleted it apart from the hearts. Then, I made the photo public. I sent the words to him in a Twitter DM instead, knowing he wouldn’t see it until much later.
He sat back down in his seat a couple minutes later, looking back at the footage he just recorded on his camera. I glanced at him once, and then continued looking through my phone.
“Love you,” I said softly and mindlessly.
He suddenly looked up, as if I didn't say that all the time, just loud enough so he could catch it. I saw him look at me through my peripherals, I could tell he was blushing.
“Love you too,” he replied, poking my cheek.
Finally, he put his camera down and pulled out his phone. Neither of us said anything more, but I was somewhat anxiously awaiting him to notice either my DM or my Instagram post. Somehow, just silently sitting next to each other while scrolling on our phones became one of my favorite pastimes.
“Aww,” he mumbled at one point.
I glanced over his shoulder once, only to see a flash of Jack and Signe on his Twitter feed. Why hadn't he seen his DMs yet? What was taking him so long?
Feeling uncharacteristically mushy, I lied my head on his shoulder. He smelled good, and he was soft and cuddly as ever. I was suddenly missing our short time alone back in the hotel room. We wouldn't be alone together until next month, and it suddenly seemed like a difficult challenge.
Last month, when the tour went West, Ethan and I did a full three sixty. Instead of angrily texting each other and crying in bathroom stalls, we were sexting and getting it on in the dressing room, the bathroom, and even once in my bunk when everyone else was asleep. It showed just how strong we had gotten over the last few months. But because of those raunchy activities from not only tour but also when we were home, I went to great lengths to make sure my birth control hadn't failed me. I didn’t have any symptoms, apart the usual anxiety nausea, but I still worked up the courage to schedule a doctor’s appointment prior to tour. So far, my uterus wasn’t occupying anything I didn’t want it to.
Ethan put his arm around me just as mindlessly as when I said I loved him. He was still scrolling on his phone, now on Instagram. This time, I saw him scroll up to my post, and he made a noise of protest.
“When did you take that?” he asked, showing me the plane selfie.
“When do you think?” I asked in response. “You have the best sleeping face.”
He chuckled. “You know you’re the only person who tells me that? Everyone else says it’s creepy.”
“I mean it is,” I said, half joking. “But you’re my boyfriend, and I always think you’re cute. Even when you sleep with your eyes half open.”
Ethan blushed and ducked his head a little. He always grew a little timid when I complimented or praised him. It was equally parts adorable and frustrating, because he never took the compliment.
“Stop,” he said softly.
“Have you checked your DMs?” I asked, unable to wait any longer.
He gave me a look and then went to open the app. “Well, what did you send me now…?” he asked in a funny voice.
I busied myself with intertwining my fingers with his. Then I kissed his hand and waited for him to read my sappy message.
“Aw…” He smiled. He was speaking very softly, like he didn't want the people sitting around us to hear. “That's real sweet… real cute…”
“I was gonna post that on Instagram, but decided that only you can hear things like that,” I replied in a voice just as soft. “And it's not just today, I feel that every day.”
“Aahhhh,” he groaned, now scooping me up in his arms.
Except, he did it in a way so my back was to his chest, and my head hung out in the walkway of the shuttle, capturing the attention of some of the people around us.
“Hey,” I said to Tyler, who was sitting in front of us.
“What’s up?” he replied casually. “Just hanging, I see?”
“Just hanging,” I repeated.
“Whatcha doing, Bella?” asked Mark from a couple of rows behind.
I turned my head and saw him with his vlogging camera. My cheeks reddened a little bit. “I’m not here by choice!”
“She said nice things and deserved hugs!” Ethan said.
“God, we’re gross,” I said under my breath before I was let go.
#crankgameplays x oc#ethan nestor x reader#odlt fic#odlt extra#ylh extra#ethella fic#sweetheart writes#stand back i thINK IM GONNA VOMIT#for real when i was writing this i was like *insert heart emojis*#now im just itching to get back to angsty sad shit lmao#anyway ill make a masterlist of all the extra one shots ive posted that have to do with this series#figured it would be nice to see bella and her boyf and her pals in a moment of Fun and Peace ya feel me#i have bella and ethans whole life all planned out lmao like#ive invested way too much time in these nerds#OH MY GOD i also have to post the angsty belliplier i promised skdhlask#maybe tomorrow or the next day
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my binders/locker in grade school were stuffed with so much shit i couldnt find anything...always crumpled up papers, trash etc
chewed pencils/pens, broke them taking them apart in class, lost them, often didn’t have one, frequently borrowing them and forgetting to give them back to the point that certain people wouldn’t give me pencils
could comprehend reading i liked very well, but when we’d have reading groups with boring books id always be lost, or when the teachers would have one on ones and have u read something short and ask questions after to assess ur reading level, they’d often have to tell me to read it again bc they knew how much i remembered didnt add up to my intelligence and reading speed
moms college friend gave me an unoffical iq test and i did much worse than i know i shouldve on the reading portion bc she’d play a story and then ask me after to list every detail i could remember and i couldn’t remember anything. but when she played 10 numbers and asked me to say them out loud backwards i scored extremely high ?
couldnt do projects, would be in tears, last minute every time, parents mad bc i need a poster board RIGHT NOW ITS DUE TOMORROW . hated assigned reading, horrible at essays even when they helped us plan them.
i remember my 7th grade social studies teacher assigning a paper, i wrote extremely detailed and well in the first paragraph or 2, and the following ones got shorter and shorter and were completely bullshit bc i got bored. she told me ‘really strong first paragraph.’ and gave me a B
talk too got damn fast. customers constantly telling me to slow down bc they cant understand me
my mom always says she had to challenge me as a kid bc i would get bored and get in trouble. i was acting out bc i was understimulated, i happened to like learning (esp numbers and puzzles) bc smart so that’s what i could fixate on and felt stimulated by
lunch detention frequently in 8th grade in my first highschool class, algebra, bc i wouldnt do my homework, at one point he just stopped giving lunch detention for that bc i wouldnt do it. i hated that class bc the math was boring and i never paid attention but would somehow pull off a’s and b’s on tests so i ended up with a B. my first B, and i had brought that up from a D (told my mom it was almost a C, he gave a really hard test and we all did bad etc, when she had to sign a paper about my low grade) at the end of the year, during the exam i was so confused the whole time, it was my first highschool exam and i didn’t know ANYTHING. i ended up with a 92 from guessing, and a curve, and every one of my friends got at least a 93 or better and i felt so stupid bc i was supposed to be the best at math
i would take every highschool class in honors but not one english class bc it required more essays and summer reading and i knew i wouldnt do the reading and would cry over the essays
the only other class i didnt take honors was chemistry bc i knew the honors teacher had a lot of projects and i would be stressing over them. i ended up with an A in the standard chem class even tho i never finished any work in class and didnt do homework, but i was still the smartest in the class and did the best overall
lunch detention for forgetting to get papers signed like report cards. they weren’t even bad grades i just couldnt remember. one time i got actual detention for forging my moms signature bc i got lunch detention for several days straight bc i kept forgetting to get the paper signed
often had permission slips waiting to be signed the day before the field trip, or told my mom it was picture day the day before or morning of. one time i totally forgot it was picture day and didnt dress up
acting out and not thinking ab the consequences, many referrals.. many more times that my teachers let me get away with acting out when someone else doing the same thing would’ve been punished. one time anna and i left in the middle of class to go with emma to the library, only emma had permission, and my teacher had anna and i do wall sits instead of going to the office. in gym in middle school i would never dress out. i hated the clothes and hated gym bc i was awkward and if we didnt dress out we had to copy pages out of the health textbook the entire time and i would barely write 2 paragraphs bc i was so bored and my hand hurt and he never did anything ab it. i wouldnt dress out at least twice per week if not more. told my mom I had a C bc he had it out for me but i was the problem
in elementary school if we didn’t come to gym day wearing the right shoes we had to go into the back and pick out a pair of sneakers that fit out of a box of shoes, and also borrow socks if necessary. i had to do this frequently bc i never remembered to wear the right shoes
i would extremely often forget my library books and have to sit on the couch waiting for everyone to pick out their books for half an hour
when we were even younger we’d have story time and you had to sit in the middle of the floor inside a big circle of chairs where everyone else was if you forgot your library books. i lost one at one point for months and my parents didnt just pay for it so i had to sit in the middle every time. we found the book on a shelf somewhere in the house
my chorus teacher never liked me bc i talked too much and i always felt like the worst singer, not bc of my singing but bc she wasn’t ever nice to me
in 7th grade science we learned latin root words and every day we’d play a game where we all stood up and one by one he’d ask for a root and we’d give it. if you got it wrong on the first round you’d have to write it on a piece of paper x amount of times and turn it in. if you were the last person left you were allowed to sit on your desk for the rest of the year, during these games while everyone else had to stand up. i wanted so badly to sit on my desk, esp bc i was fidgety and couldnt stand still, but i would never study them bc i’d forget or not want to if i did remember, even tho i really wanted to know them and sit on my desk. that teacher had a huge soft spot for me and one day i just started sitting on my desk during those. everyone knew i was smart, and it was all the smart kids who got to sit on their desks, so no one questioned it. im not sure if he knew i wasnt supposed to and just let me, or didnt realize i hadnt won bc i was smart.
hyperlexia? mom said i could practically read before i was taught. i’ve always obsessively air written, ie writing words out w my finger in the air, on my leg etc.
esp during lectures i doodle excessively to the point that my papers margins have always been covered with random scribbly overlapped words, or song lyrics. the words are usually something someone in the class said. ive started keeping an extra sheet of paper just for scribbling when im taking notes or listening in class. when we finished end of year tests in school i would write down full lyrics to songs on my scrap paper so i wouldnt be so bored. my hand cramps up so much but it was better than staring or trying to sleep with the lights on
doing things and forgetting to turn them in
hyperfixating on books to cope w boredom and social anxiety, at one point read one per day, i was definitely one of the most frequent people in the library
‘ The way I see it is if I can get information into my mind, I can do a lot with it but getting it in there in the first place is the really difficult part.’ - not mine
none of my teachers ever told my mom any of this i dont think, bc i was the smartest and i always got good grades, most had a soft spot for me BUT COULDNT SEE I HAD ADHD like damn. one time my fourth grade teacher whom i liked a lot was mad at us and indirectly calling people out, and referred to the fact that some of us never stopped talking , then made direct eye contact with me and i felt rly embarrassed bc i didnt realize i did that until she mentioned it
i often had to move seats if i was near friends bc i wouldnt stop instigating talking
at big lots when i had to run the register i was so painfully bored , fidgety, had to sneak my phone soo much bc i was so bored. when i was on the floor i would put away the go backs very quickly and then take upon myself a project like going through the entire wall of individual drinks and pulling out all the expired ones, it was like 5 carts full. my manager put me in charge of organizing the entire makeup section and all the gross clearance makeup bc she knew id do it the best and fastest
when bosses have me do inventory i can count the products super fast and efficiently, but then when they have me put them into a spreadsheet i stare at it for hours getting nothing done bc distracted and its boring. ammar told me if i’d just get off my phone i could get it done bc he’d been asking for it for weeks, i wasnt trying to ignore it
when im trying to do something at work that needs more concentration, i want to cry with frustration whenever i hear the door chime and have to get up and help customers and break my focus
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Coincidences Part I (Bucky x Reader)
Okay, so this is me attempting at one of those “I texted you by accident and we ended up talking and I actually think you’re a pretty decent human being” tropes. I don’t know how it’s going to work out because this is the first time I’m doing something like this, but I dunno. Maybe it’ll be cool.
Anyways.
Without further ado: Happy Reading!
Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Modern AU if that’s what its called)
Words: 4259
Warnings: I mean, swearing a little. But none other than that.
Excerpt: Blowing a sigh through your nose, you realize you probably should just leave it alone and not answer at all. Then again, you are slightly curious to at least find out who texted you. They obviously thought they were talking to someone else, so it couldn’t hurt to maybe steer them in a different direction. Maybe.
*After writing this first part, I have determined that this is going to have to be a multi-part fic. Yeah. This got away from me, but I’m gonna try to post the parts in succession.
Tagging: @langinator @beccaanne814-blog @fairchild21
Series Tags: @melanie451 @sebstanwassup @colagirl5 @winenighthoe @hillrich @gotnotfeature
Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }
New Message from: Unknown
3:32 p.m hey u still wanna get that drink sometime?
You stare at your phone in confusion. What the hell? Last you could remember, you hadn’t given any stranger your phone number, and you certainly hadn’t agreed to any drinks.
Blowing a sigh through your nose, you realize you probably should just leave it alone and not answer at all. Then again, you are slightly curious to at least find out who texted you. They obviously thought they were talking to someone else, so it couldn’t hurt to maybe steer them in a different direction. Maybe.
You glance at the clock perched above the doorway to the kitchen. It’s after 3:30 so, technically, you aren’t due for a break for another half hour. The diner is pretty quiet, though, so maybe it won’t hurt to just slip out for a little bit.
The door to the kitchen creaks as you open it, throwing your apron up onto the hook and casting a frown at Nat, who is sitting on a stool, scrolling through her phone. Man, is she lucky that the manager had to take the day off. At the griddle toward the back, Wanda is humming as she flips a grilled cheese.
“I’m taking my break early,” you declare to your friends. Nat barely acknowledges you, nodding once and making you want to pull her phone from her hands and hide it from her. Ever since she’d begun dating Clint, she’d been stuck to her phone like glue to paper. You raise a solitary eyebrow.
Wanda turns from her grilled cheese and leans against the counter. “It’s early.”
You nod. “I know, but it’s dead out there.”
“Pete?”
You smile. “Of course.”
Peter Parker had been coming into the diner a few days a week after school to do his homework and pick up dinner for his aunt after his uncle died. It happened so often, that the manager actually offered him a job, but he declined, saying that he already had one and that he didn’t want to spend any more time away from his Aunt May than he already did.
Wanda turns back to the griddle and pulls the grilled cheese from it with her spatula. She sticks the grilled cheese in a foam container and closes it.
“Is that for him?” you ask. Wanda simply nods, walking over to the desert display and cutting a piece of cheesecake off, putting it in another, smaller container, and putting both in a bag.
“You never saw me do that,” she warns you, as she walks toward the door to the kitchen, bag in hand. There’s a challenge in her tone that you’re definitely not going to indulge.
You look around the room with a thoughtful expression on your face, before landing back on her with a questioning tilt of the head and knit brows. “I never saw you do what?”
She grins at you and pushes through the door with her back, turning expertly just as the door is about to open fully, and holding it with her elbow as she walks out.
When you turn back, Nat’s finally looking up and away from her phone.
“Look who decided to join us,” you joke, walking forward toward the back exit.
“She’s a softie,” Nat says, looking through the window at Wanda, who is handing a grinning Pete the bag with a finger to her lips. “She knows she’s going to have to pay for that, right?”
You shrug. “The kid’s been through a lot, and everyone loves cheesecake.”
“Not me,” Nat says, looking up at you where you stand to her right.
“You’re weird,” you shrug a single shoulder. “I’ll be back.”
You make it about halfway down the hall before Nat calls out for you again. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
You don’t answer. Nat wouldn’t answer a strange text message. Nat wouldn’t even acknowledge said text message. Maybe you shouldn’t either. But the curiosity is killing you. Forget the cat, it has nine lives. You don’t, and if you don’t find out who this is, you’re going to die. Definitely.
It’s obviously not going to be anyone you know, because the number is unknown, and part of you knows that. The irrational part of you is winning out, though, and you can’t help it. Don’t want to.
It takes another ten minutes of contemplation, of writing and re-writing a text, to actually get to the point where you say, “Fuck it,” and send it off.
3:48 p.m Uh. who is this
Damn, you forgot a question mark. Should you send one? No, double texting is weird. Then again—
Your phone buzzes in your hand and you frown down at it. The sun is too bright right now and your phone screen looks more like a mirror than an open message. You cup your hand above your eyes, against your eyebrows, to block the sun and squint at the screen until you’re sure you can possibly make out the words in the little gray bubble on the screen.
3:49 p.m its james
You suck in a breath. James. You definitely don’t know a James. Does he think you know him? Probably, or he wouldn’t be asking about getting that drink. Obviously, it was an aforementioned thing, but not with you.
Another few minutes of quiet contemplation in which you figure out what you should say, landing on something neutral and truthful.
3:54 p.m I don’t know any James’
Shit. Is he gonna know that the apostrophe means that you don’t know any people named James, plural? What if he thinks it’s a typo? That’s two typos in a row—
Your phone buzzes again and you narrow your eyes at his response.
3:55 p.m we met at that cafe a few weeks ago and you gave me your number
Nope, never happened. And you’re going to tell him so.
3:57 p.m i think i’d remember if i met someone in a cafe and gave them my number. Any chance you got a false one?
The response is immediate and arrogant.
3:57 p.m no chance
For a moment, you’re not sure what to say to that. Should you call him out on his arrogance? Should you just stop talking to him altogether? Should you keep trying to convince him that you definitely never met him in some weird cafe?
The last one sounds best, but it is a stranger—you’ll never meet him—and you really wanna call him on his shit.
3:59 p.m big talk for a guy who most definitely got a fake number
This time, the response takes a few minutes, as if he’s had to read it a few times and then formulate a response. You smile to yourself, convinced you won that one and then confused because when did this turn into a competition? You never get to call people out like that because you’re always too scared of the repercussions, so you usually just keep your mouth shut. But a stranger through a phone is different waters altogether.
4:04 p.m so…ur not dot?
It took him five minutes to say that?
4:04 p.m no
4:05 p.m then…who r u?
Should you do it? Should you tell him your name? Based on the area code, he lives around you, which is weirdly coincidental. There’s always a chance this is a scam or something, but he does seem pretty confused. It took him five minutes to figure out he’d been duped and you were telling the truth, so….
There’s also always the off chance that he’s been in the diner and has seen you.
Then again, he might never see you or meet you. It’s Brooklyn. A pretty big place to just randomly run into a person you accidentally texted. Still, you don’t want to give him your real name. You do what any sane person would do: you give him your middle name.
4:08 p.m Y/M/N
4:09 p.m oh thank god
You frown.
4:09 p.m ?
4:10 p.m u r a girl, right?
4:10 p.m i kno you didn’t just assume my gender
Fuck, the w is missing from know. Oh well. This one must have him stumped again, because his response doesn’t come for long enough that you think he’s busy or something, until it comes in.
4:16 p.m uh, no?
4:17 p.m Relax. I am. And you’re a guy, I presume?
4:18 p.m look whos assuming now
You’re slightly offended that your joke just backfired so badly. You inwardly cringe and look back down at your phone, breath ghosting over the screen in the frigid air. Damn, you forgot your coat inside. Wiping the condensation off the screen from your frozen breath, you quickly type back.
4:20 p.m Certainly not me. I’m presuming. Different. Also, what girl has the name James?
4:20 p.m Jamie
4:21 p.m different
4:21 p.m touche. im a dude
You’re indifferent about the answer, but you realize why he was a little freaked out at the possibility of you being a guy: the first thing he’d texted you had been asking you out for drinks. Then again, now you were assuming sexuality. But he had thought he’d been asking out someone named Dot, and that seems like a pretty feminine name.
Ugh. Your head hurts.
You sigh, unsure of what to say next. Turns out, you don’t have to think about it too much because he texts you a moment later. A double text.
4:23 p.m sorry if this is wierd. yknow. txting a stranger
You’re smiling, and at first you’re not sure why, until you realize it’s because he’s misspelled weird. As much as you don’t want to be annoying, you can’t let it go.
4:23 p.m weird*
4:24 p.m ohhh we have a grammar nazi
4:24 p.m i don’t know what you’re talking about
4:25 p.m you just corrected me
4:25 p.m totally didn’t. I was echoing you
4:26 p.m what about the *
4:26 p.m autocorrect
4:27 p.m mhmm sure and I was born in 1917
4:28 p.m man you’re old
4:29 p.m srryy duno wht u sid cant see thu my catarcs
It’s at this point that you’re covering your mouth with a freezing hand, laughing your ass off. This James, whoever he is, is hilarious. You grin at the screen as you type your answer, before noting the time. You’ve got to get back to work. At this point, you have been talking to James for almost an hour, give or take ten minutes or so.
You have to admit, your break flew by faster than any of your breaks ever had.
4:30 p.m alright mr. cat arcs. I have to get back to work. it was strangely fun talking to you
4:31 p.m wats tht deery
Just to piss him off:
4:31 p.m dearie*
4:31 p.m oH its on, grammar nazi
4:32 p.m look who’s suddenly been cured of his cataracts*
The next text isn’t a message but a picture—a screenshot to be precise. He’s saved your number to his phone with the contact name Gramar Nazi. You laugh, but there’s a strange, excited feeling in your chest that makes you grin stupidly.
He’s saved your number to his phone. Does this mean he’s going to text you again? Does he want to? If you’re being honest, you want him to.
Still grinning like an idiot, hands numb from the cold, you save his number to your contacts as Mr. Catarcs and take a screenshot of it.
4:34 p.m grammar*
Then you send him the screenshot of his contact.
4:35 p.m lol see u later grammar nazi
The door behind you swings open and Nat’s standing there, frown on her face. You let your phone drop to your side as she knits her brows at you.
“You forgot your coat,” she says, as if that isn’t obvious enough. “Also, your half hour break was up half an hour ago. The dinner rush is going to start soon.”
You nod. “Yeah, I know. I’ll be in in a sec.”
Her frown deepens, if that’s even possible, and she tilts her head at the phone in your hand, still open to the message between you and James. She nods at it.
“Who’re you talking to?”
“No one.”
She eyes you suspiciously but doesn’t say anything, opting to prop the door open with the wooden wedge. You totally forgot to put that in when you came out here. It’s a good thing Nat came to get you or you’d have to walk all the way around to the front.
Finally, Nat retreats back into the relative warmth of the diner.
You shoot a really quick text back to James before entering the establishment:
4:38 p.m later cat arcs
4:38 p.m wah
You laugh, but don’t respond as you walk down the back hall toward the kitchen. What are you getting yourself into? Who knows, but he’s funny, and everyone knows you need a little more funny in your life. So you push your phone into your back pocket and pull your apron over your head, trying to rid your mind of James and failing miserably.
When you finally get home after switching out with the graveyard shift, you’re exhausted and ready to just fall into bed.
Instead, you peel off your clothes—which smell unpleasantly of french fry grease and coffee—and shower away the diner stink. It’s while you’re getting yourself dressed again that you remember James. You’d been so busy that he’d been pushed to the back of your mind during the dinner rush and hadn’t re-appeared since. Until now.
You sigh and pull on a pair of leggings and a T-shirt before checking the clock. 8:08 p.m. Perfect.
You grab the only other key on the key rack in the kitchen and exit your apartment, locking the door and walking a few steps down the hall to the apartment next door.
Unlocking the door, you don’t even check to see if he’s home and opt instead to collapse onto his couch. Sure enough, you hear a deep voice down the hall talking on the phone. He doesn’t even know you’re here.
You met Steve Rogers—what was it?—two years ago? Probably somewhere around there. The two of you were just out of college and just beginning to live on your own. Steve, who had moved in a few weeks before you, had helped you unpack almost all of your boxes. You’d gone on to learn that he was an art major starting his own studio and that he had lived in Brooklyn his whole life. After finishing college, he’d decided to move out into an apartment not too far from his childhood home.
You couldn’t say the same thing. You’d lived your whole life in Manhattan, with its annoying cabs and its bright lights. Miss it desperately.
It takes Steve at least five more minutes to come out into the main living room, still on the phone.
“—g deal.” A pause. He makes his way into the kitchen, barefoot and wearing sweats. He still hasn’t seen you. “I’m sure it’s not, Buck. You’re overreacting.” Another pause. Now that he’s in the kitchen, he’s facing the counter, which faces the couch.
His eyes widen when he finally sets eyes on you and he frowns, mouthing, “What’re you doing here?”
You shrug and mouth back, “Bored.”
He smiles and waits for Bucky to finish talking to him over the phone. “Y/N’s here.” Pause. “Yeah.” Pause. He pulls the phone away from his cheek for a moment to address you. “Bucky wants to know if you enjoy breaking and entering.” Of course he knows you’ve just waltzed in unannounced; you’ve done it before.
You scoff and hold a hand to your chest in mock offense. “I’m offended! It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key,” you say holding up said shiny item. It glints in the poor lighting of the apartment.
Steve repeats what you said back to Bucky, who says something else. “No, I’m not—” a deep sigh. “Fine.” He looks at you again. “Bucky wants to know what you’d do if I was ‘with someone’?”
You raise your eyebrows. “Like Peggy?”
Steve blushes almost imperceptibly, but you catch it, and he nods once.
You shrug. “Leave.”
“Leave,” Steve parrots to Bucky, who must say something on the other line that Steve doesn’t like, because he shakes his head vigorously, despite the fact that Bucky can’t see him. “You’re gross, Buck.”
You tilt your head.
“Bucky wants to—”
Groaning, you pull yourself up from the couch, walk into the kitchen, and pluck the phone from Steve without giving him a chance to protest.
The line crackles for a moment, as if Bucky has been driving and has just gone under a tunnel, but it clears up in another moment, and you breathe into the receiver.
“That was annoying,” you say. “What does Bucky wanna tell me?”
Bucky laughs. “Bucky would like to know if you enjoy stealing his best friend.”
You look up at a very worried Steve. “He’s my best friend too.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Steve smiles at you and turns to put a filter in the coffee machine. You grab the coffee from the cupboard and hand it to Steve as Bucky replies.
“I knew him first,” is his retort.
“First is the worst,” you rebut, grabbing a few mugs from the drying board and retreating to the couch again. “Second is the best.”
“You can’t hear it,” Bucky replies, his voice higher than usual in the phone. Everyone, you think, sounds higher-pitched in the phone. It’s gotta be some sorta known fact or something. A scientific fact. Gotta be. “—but I’m sticking my tongue out at you.”
You poke your tongue out from between your lips and are extremely grateful that Steve has his back to you to prepare the coffee. “Me too.”
“Are you two done?” Steve says in the background as you stand again and sit on one of the stools on the other side of the counter.
“What’s he want?” Bucky asks.
“Wants to know if we’re done talking,” you repeat. “Think he misses his hubby.”
On the other end of the line, Bucky cracks up, laughing so loud that someone yells something—toward him, you guess—that you can’t make out. Bucky clears his throat and whispers, “Bye, Y/N. Gimme back my man.”
You laugh as Steve sets a cup of coffee in front of you, made just the way you like it. “Bye, Buck. See you later.”
Handing over the phone, you blow on the surface of your coffee, watching as Steve takes the phone, slotting it between his shoulder and ear, and gingerly brings his coffee over to the counter you’re sitting at. “Yeah,” he says to Bucky. “Yeah, I know. I’ll get on it, promise.” Break. “See you tomorrow. Night, Buck.”
A few seconds later, he hangs up the phone and turns his attention toward you. “You have work tomorrow?”
He’s talking about your other job, the one you went to college for: editing. You work at a low-budget publishing company and you spend all day reading over articles on topics you couldn’t care less about for grammatical mistakes. It’s your job during the week, but because it’s low-budget, you also work at the diner. Graveyard shift Tuesdays and Thursdays, regular shift Saturdays and Sundays.
Mondays are your days off of everything, and today is Sunday.
“Yeah,” you agree. “I took off Friday, so I figured I’d make it up by working tomorrow.”
Steve sips his coffee and then gives you an apologetic look. “At least it’ll be worth it.”
“Yeah,” you scoff. “Go out clubbing with you, Peggy, Bucky, Sam, and Wanda. Cause I’m really a club-going type of person.”
Steve’s sympathetic look makes you feel sort of bad for snapping. “I know. I’d rather be home painting or something, but Peggy and Bucky think it’s a good idea, and Sam was all for it, so.” He takes another sip of his coffee. You haven’t touched yours yet. Too hot. “You said Wanda’s coming? Guess Nat and Clint are—”
“Going out,” you nod, finishing for him. “And Bruce and Stark?”
“Some science thing down at the plant,” he sums up and you shake your head.
“Geeks,” you scoff.
“Geeks,” Steve agrees with a nod.
You end up talking to Steve for another hour before leaving. When you get back to your apartment, you hang the keys on their respective hooks in the kitchen and grab your phone from the counter before making your way to your room.
You undress and get into your pj’s before getting into bed and lying on your side, clicking your phone open.
There are four notifications waiting for you when you open it. The oldest is a Snap from Nat: 8:12 p.m. The next one is a message from Wanda, the preview reading something about the time for Friday: 8:31 p.m. Third is a message from your mom asking how work was and if you want her to drop off pasta for you tomorrow night: 8:54 p.m. The last one is—
New Message from Mr. Catarcs at 9:18 p.m.
Against your better judgement, you open that one first.
9:18 p.m i was wondering why u were so familiar and i figured out that it’s cuz u remind me of this girl i kno
10:03 p.m oh?
You open your other messages while you wait for an answer from him. Nat’s Snap is a pic of the sign outside of the diner—the chalkboard one—before she took it in, with the specials written in the manager’s handwriting. It’s colorful as hell and sports the worst drawing of a chicken you’ve ever seen sitting right next to the words Chicken Marsala. How had you missed that earlier?
You giggle and send one back, covering the camera with your thumb and writing ‘Wow’ in the black screen with red ink and some of those a-okay hand emojis.
Still no answer from James. It is now 10:06.
You tell your mother that you would love some pasta for tomorrow night, and ask her if she could send over a little more than usual so you could share it with Steve since he loves her cooking so much.
Still no answer.
It’s while you’re in the middle of telling Wanda that you’re going to pick her up around 7 on Friday night that your phone buzzes with a new message from James. You quickly send off the message to Wanda and click on the message from Mr. Catarcs at the top of your screen.
10:12 p.m yeh uve got the same attitude as her
10:13 p.m that a good thing?
10:15 p.m depends
10:15 p.m on?
10:15 p.m what ur like in person
You’re not sure what to do with that, so you let it sit for a little while before answering.
10:18 p.m guess you’ll have to get to know me better before that happens. need to make sure you’re not a serial killer or something
10:19 p.m im not a serial killer. r u?
10:20 p.m not as far as I know
10:21 p.m as far as uknow? what? u got smth to tell me
10:22 p.m definitely not
10:23 p.m unconvinced ur gonna have to try harder
You laugh.
10:24 p.m nah its fun to think about you wondering if i’m a jeffrey dahmer wannabe
10:25 p.m im scared
10:25 p.m certainly you’re not scared of lil ol’ me
10:26 p.m certainly not
10:27 p.m i can feel the sarcasm all the way over here
There are a few minutes of radio silence during which you think that you haven’t had a conversation this entertaining in a long time. It’s fun talking to James, and it makes you both slightly nervous and very excited to see what happens. It’s that edge-of-your-seat, staying-up-even-though-you’re-exhausted-to-answer-a-text feeling. It feels like high school. You grin down at your black phone screen and wait for it to buzz. A few seconds later, it does, with an incoming text from Mr. Catarcs.
10:31 p.m its fun talking to u grammar nazi
10:31 p.m you too, mr. catarcs
10:32 p.m im gunna get u to use txt lingo
10:32 p.m yeah right. good luck
10:33 p.m just wait. ill do it. dont need luck. ive got skill
10:33 p.m LOL. i repeat: good luck
10:33 p.m mad skillz
10:34 p.m good night catarcs
10:35 p.m u forgot a comma
10:35 p.m you*
10:36 p.m just u wait. imma do it. gnight grammar nazi
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