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yourlocalghoulette · 9 months ago

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Chapter 2~ Take On Me

Series Masterlist~ Main Masterlist~Meet the horses~

Warnings- eventual smut so MDNI! pretty much just fluff, reader has trauma, language, slow burn, flirting, relationship building

w/c: 3k

A/N~ part 2 is hereee! im literally so excited to be writing this story. part 3 is already in the works! please reblog, it always helps! Lmk if you want to be on the taglist:))

It was only when you got Joel’s number and scheduled your first work day that it started feeling real. Doing this, being around horses again, the thing that hurt you more than anything.

Well, it wasn’t the horses that hurt you. It was the way you were forced to push your limits with them. The way you were yelled at if you didn’t do something right. The way your stomach sank every time you were forced to use an unneeded pair of spurs on a horse.

Sleep doesn’t come easy Thursday night, the night before the long-awaited first day. You toss and turn in your bed, palms clammy and forehead sweaty. You kick off the matcha-colored bedspread you were wrapped in and sit up in bed, trying to take deep breaths to clear your head. You glance at your phone. 2:00 AM. If you know Sōl well enough, she’s probably at a party. She definitely won’t answer until morning.

So you text the one person who also might not be awake but still understands. Joel.

You click on the chat that only a few formal messages have been exchanged in and wonder if you’re being too impulsive. What is he going to think about you texting him at two in the morning? Your mind clouded with sleepiness and delusion, you text him anyway.

You- sorry for texting so late. having second thoughts about tmrw.

To your surprise, the ‘read’ icon pops up as soon as you send it.

Joel- i understand how you feel. are you wanting to cancel tomorrow? i was looking forward to it.

Did you want to cancel? Your brain is in a frenzy. He’s looking forward to it, you think over and over.

You- idk. i think still want to come tomorrow but I’m gonna take it slow:)

Joel- that makes sense and it’s totally good with me. can’t blame ya for feeling reluctant. you can pace things as slow as you want, ok cowgirl?

The nickname jumped off of your screen at you and butterflies take off inside your stomach.

You- ok cowboy;) thanks. excited to see u and the horses tmr!

Joel- likewise. now get some sleep, cowgirl.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you turn off your phone. The conversation was short but sweet and oddly comforting.

You silently pad over to the kitchen and quickly make a cup of chamomile tea with lots of honey. While you drink it, you shamelessly open the stable’s website and scroll to the picture of Joel and Sarah. You look closely at Joel’s left hand, resting over Sarah’s shoulder.

No ring.

Ok, he wasn’t married, but that didn’t mean much. He could still be dating, you tell yourself. Even with that possibility, you catch yourself smiling softly at the photo, staring into Joel’s dark brown eyes. Soft and comforting, like the tea you’re drinking. You sigh and walk slowly back to bed, rubbing your eyes which at this point are bloodshot from tiredness.

With Joel’s messages imprinted in your head, you quickly fall asleep.

“Un-fucking-believable. I gave you one. Job. ONE job! To win the goddamn gold medal. And what did you do? You knocked over FOUR jumps. You are a dissapointment to this team. To the profession of jumping.”

“Please- I-I’m sorry, the horse was acting weird! Probably because you made me whip him when he doesn’t need it!”

“Don’t use those goddamn tears on me. Maybe I should show you how a whip feels.”

You wake up three hours later in a cold sweat, your face streaked with tears. You breathe heavily, your hands shaking with each breath. You run your hands over your face.

“It’s just a memory,” you whisper over and over to yourself. You try to breathe in through your nose and out your mouth, calming yourself down.

Sometimes you wish you don’t have to wake up in an empty bed, no one by your side to comfort you. It stings when you think about the last time someone was in your bed.

You shake the memories away for right now. Taking one last deep breath to attempt to ground you, you climb out of bed. You skip breakfast, not sure if you would be able to keep any food down with the amount of nerves flitting in your stomach.

You brush your teeth and throw on some mascara quickly, your hands still shaky and making it difficult. You put on a black tank top and faded boot cut jeans, along with a loose red flannel because it can get cold in the early Texas mornings.

It’s 6:00 on the dot when you slide on your steel-toed work boots, tucking them under your jeans. You grab your keys and a granola bar just in case and head out the door.

As you struggle to start your old pickup truck, second thoughts and anxieties start to fill your mind once again. You struggle to push them out of your head, filling it instead with the thought that you get to see Joel again. Nevertheless, your hands shake around the wheel as you drive the short drive to Sarah’s Stables.

When you pull into the driveway, Joel is sitting outside the barn on the concrete bench, shaking his leg with a nervous expression on his face. You step out of your truck and stride over to Joel as he stands up, trying to put on a confident smile even though the last thing you feel is confident.

“Morning,” Joel grins, shaking your hand firmly. His hand lingers on yours a little longer than it should before he pulls away.

“G’morning, cowboy,” you tip an invisible hat, and he returns the gesture. He leads you into the barn, gesturing you to follow with his hand.

“Did’ya get any sleep last night?” He asks with a hint of concern in his voice, making your heart melt.

You shrug. “Kind of. And I’m really sorry for texting you so late- or, early? I didn’t really have anyone else to text.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Joel waves it off. “I liked it, having someone to talk to even for a bit. I’m always up past 2 doing paperwork and ordering feed and all that shit.”

“Good to know,” you grin, trying to hide the flustered expression on your face. You enter the barn, immediately walking up to the small Shetland pony’s stall. “Hey, buddy,” you coo, gently tracing the long stripe down his face. “And to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

Joel chuckles, leaning next to you on the stall door. “That’s Orion. Rescued him along with the percheron, Amadeus, from an animal hoarder.”

“So you’ve had a rough time with humans, huh, bud?” You nod understandingly. “I get it.”

“Very. I get it too,” Joel says softly. “So. Let’s get to work, huh? I’m gonna show you the different feed mixes for each horse. Not sayin’ you’ll have to feed ‘em every time you’re working here. We’ll feed the horses then I’ll introduce you. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds perfect. It feels weird, being at a barn after so long of avoiding horses, y’know?” you sigh softly. “Is it too soon to say I have a good feeling about you and this barn? Like…I don’t know how to explain it. It just feels different.”

Joel nods knowingly, toying absentmindedly with Orion’s forelock. “Not at all. I get it,” he says understandingly. His eyes soften as he watches you interact with Orion, a slight faraway look on your face. “You doin’ okay, cowgirl?”

You nod, straightening up. “Yeah. Sorry. Just…zoned out.”

“No need to apologize,” Joel smiles softly. A tall cinnamon colored Tennessee Walker down the aisle kicks his stall door in impatience. “Let’s do this.”

In less than 20 minutes, the horses are fed and happily nickering into their feed buckets. Joel had written down the feed mixes for each individual horses with care and posted it on the wall so you didn’t have to memorize them right away. You can tell how much Joel Miller cares for his horses.

“We can turn the horses out now.” Joel tosses you two halters, a purple nylon one and a teal rope one. “Think you can handle two horses at once?”

“Totally.” You sling the halters over your shoulder.

“The rope halter is for Whiskey, the Tennessee Walker and the nylon is for Dottie, the Appaloosa mare. Stalls 5 and 6.”

In no time, you worked together to get all six horses out to the pasture. It’s picturesque, a large green field with a tall white fence surrounding the perimeter. It feels like a daydream watching the horses frolic aorund with eachother, enjoying their taste of freedom after being caged in a stall for the night.

You and Joel sit on the lower bar of the fence, arms resting along the top piece with your head on top. Observing the horses’ behaviors carefully, you can see with the way the chestnut Quarter Horse gelding pins his ears and threatens any horse that gets close to his pile of hay that he’s top dog. The dominant horse, the leader. A comfortable silence falls between you and Joel, as you both let out a collective sigh of relief as the stress of morning feeding washes off.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Joel sighs, breaking off the silence.

“Gorgeous,” you agree, glancing over at Joel. His soft brown eyes are full of adoration for his horses.

He gestures towards the chestnut Quarter Horse. “That right there is Magnum. Total powerhouse. Used to be a ‘coon hunting horse.”

You giggle, staring over at Magnum’s solid build and shiny coat. “People still hunt for raccoons?”

Joel shrugs incredulously. “I guess. His owner gave him to me because he wasn’t getting enough attention. He was ridden twice a week and left to rot by himself in a field the rest of the time. He’s obviously dom, as you’ve probably noticed.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I noticed. I can tell he has a strong personality, too.” You grin, looking over at Joel.

“Sure does,” Joel smiles back proudly. Your shared gaze lasts a little too long before you turn your head away, looking back at the horses and trying to hide the flustered expression on your face.

Joel introduces you to the rest of the horses; Amadeus, the percheron, Dottie, the petite Appaloosa mare, and Arizona, the gorgeous flaxen-colored mustang/Arabian cross.

“Say, have you eaten anything for breakfast yet?” Joel asks, holding out his hand to help you up from your perches on the fence.

You’re sure this man is going to be the death of you. You shake your head sheepishly, gently grabbing his hand as you stand up. His grip is soft and warm, hands calloused from years of hard work. “Not really,” you say as you let go of his hand. “I was too nervous.”

“What, am I that scary to ya’, cowgirl?” He grins cheekily, nudging your shoulder playfully as you both walk back into the barn.

“Pfft,” you roll your eyes as you nudge him back. “No, not scared. Terrified.” You stick your tongue out at him.

“Ha, ha, darlin’. Why don’t we go get some breakfast? Gotta fuel up before cleanin’ the stalls.”

You shrug. “Sure. Where were you thinking?”

“Home Grounds is a good coffee shop, good bakery stuff too,” Joel offers.

“No fucking way,” your eyes widen in surprise. “I work there! How have I never seen you there?”

“You must not be on the clock when I go. I’m sure I’d remember a face like yours,” Joel says softly, then catches himself, clearing his throat. “Sorry, that was-”

“It’s fine,” you wave it off. “Let’s go. We can take your truck. Mine’s a little…messy right now.”

Joel chuckles. “Sure as hell can’t be as bad as mine.”

Soon, you’re driving with Joel to the coffee shop, Take On Me by A-ha playing quietly through the speakers.

“I love this song!” You smile widely, opening the window and resting your arm outside.

“Me too,” Joel turns up the stereo. “You sing at all, cowgirl?”

You shake your head quickly, eyes wide in mock horror. “Not at all. Do you, cowboy?”

“A bit. I play a smidge of guitar, too,” he smirks.

“Oh, really? I’m gonna have to hear some of these Joel Miller guitar skills sometime,” you grin.

Joel shakes his head, a smile growing on his face as he pulls into the coffee shop driveway. “Believe me, I hype up my skills wayyy too much.” He turns off the truck and quickly runs around to your side of the truck to open your door. Butterflies take off in your stomach as he does this.

Hiding your flustered look, you deadpan him, eyes rolling. “Dude,” you grin, climbing out and he shuts the door behind you.

“What?” He opens the coffee shop door for you too. “Momma always taught me to be a gentleman.”

“And my mom always taught me to never trust men,” you grin cheekily.

“I can change that,” he side eyes you.

Trying to ignore his words, you wave at a coworker. “Hey, Jess!” You call to her, walking up to the counter.

“Hey, girlie. Who’s that?” She asks slyly, eyeing Joel. “New boyfriend?”

“Uh, no,” you say quickly before Joel can hear. “I’m working for him. He owns a horse barn.”

“You’re back to horses?” Jess inquires, cocking a brow.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, okay?” You spin around to face Joel. “What are you getting?”

“Just a black coffee and blueberry muffin, but don’t worry, cowgirl. I gotchu.” He starts taking out his wallet but you playfully swat his arm.

“Don’t. Please. I get employee discount anyway.”

Joel sighs in defeat, holding up his hands in mock offense. “Fine. But I’m paying next time.”

Next time, next time, next time….

After you order, the black coffee for him and a cold brew for you, you go to put your card in the reader to notice Joel’s card is already there. “Joel!” You mutter, giving him a disapproving look.

“Hey, I’m tryna be nice, okay?” He chuckles.

You roll your eyes. “Whatever. Thanks, really.”

The atmosphere felt charged with an unspoken tension as you both sat at a small table by the window, the warm sunlight filtering in. Joel's eyes seemed to hold a certain depth, a familiarity that stirred something within you.

"So, tell me about yourself, cowgirl," Joel said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

You took a sip of your cold brew, gathering your thoughts. "There’s not a whole lot to tell. Well, there is, but not a lot I want to go into right now. I fell in love with horses after riding a pony at a fair, and it kind of exploded from there. I started off riding Western and doing gymkhanas, then switched over to hunter/jumpers. That was obviously a huge change. I exelled really quickly in that, but as you probably know, being the best doesn’t mean you’re treated the best. A lot of shit happened at those barns, and I quit when when I was 18. People called me selfish and self-absorbed for quitting, which is what i believed for awhile. But my mental health imrpoved a lot after quitting and I came to accept the fact that it was a good thing.”

Joel nodded, his expression understanding. "I get that. Sometimes life throws us curveballs, and we need to take a step back to reassess things."

"Yeah, exactly," you replied, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his understanding. "But now I'm back, and I'm hoping things will be different this time."

"I'm sure they will be," Joel said with a reassuring smile. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, cowgirl."

You felt heat creeping up your cheeks at his compliment, quickly taking another sip of your cold brew to hide your reaction. "Thanks, Joel. I appreciate that."

The conversation flowed effortlessly between you, covering everything from your favorite books to your shared love of old John Wayne western movies. With each passing moment, you found yourself becoming more and more drawn to Joel, his easygoing nature and genuine kindness pulling you in.

Before you knew it, your cups were empty, and it was time to head back to the barn. As you walked side by side with Joel, the familiar feeling of nervous excitement bubbled up inside you once again.

As soon as you walk back into the barn, he turns on a 70s playlist and tosses you a mucking fork. “Ready to muck some stalls, cowgirl?”

The music fills the barn with a nostalgic vibe as you take the mucking fork from Joel with a grin. "Born ready," you reply, matching his playful tone.

Together, you fall into a rhythm of cleaning the stalls, the repetitive motion oddly soothing as you work side by side. Joel hums along to the music, occasionally breaking out into a soft whistle that echoes through the barn.

As you work, you can't help but steal glances at Joel, admiring the way his muscles flex beneath his shirt with each movement. There's something comforting about his presence, a sense of safety and warmth that you haven't felt in a long time.

Before you know it, the stalls are clean, and the horses are happily munching on fresh hay. You wipe the sweat from your brow, feeling a sense of satisfaction at a job well done.

"Thanks for your help, cowgirl," Joel says, giving you a grateful smile as he leans against the stall door.

"No problem," you reply, returning his smile. "It was actually kind of fun."

Joel chuckles, pushing himself off the door. "Glad to hear it. You've got a talent for this, you know?"

You feel a swell of pride at his words, a sense of validation that you haven't felt in a long time. "Thanks, Joel. That means a lot coming from you."

He gives you a nod of appreciation before glancing at his watch. "Well, I hate to cut this short, but I've got some paperwork to take care of. Think you can handle things on your own for a bit?"

You nod confidently, eager to prove yourself. "Of course. I'll hold down the fort."

"Great," Joel says, giving you a pat on the shoulder. "I'll be back in a bit. And hey, if you need anything, just give me a shout."

With that, he disappears into the office, leaving you alone in the barn. You take a deep breath, feeling a surge of determination coursing through your veins.

You may have started the day with doubts and anxieties, but now, as you stand in the quiet of the barn surrounded by the gentle sounds of the horses, you feel a sense of purpose wash over you.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #mrs ohara writes shit #pedro pascal #the last of us

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milkissblog · 1 year ago

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hey everybody!!

thats a weird ass way to start a diary entry. i can't have a diary because my mom is a little invasive and will for sure read it. theres also this weird little clown pop up on my screen? anyway.

id love love loveee love lvoe more than anything to have a diary. i could paste my little doodles in it like flower petals. and put all of my stickers and pretty slices of papers inside. theres a dog squeaking outside. i don't think dogs should be making that noise. i hope the little guy is ok.

anyway, that was so very off topic. what i was trying to say is that this little blag of mine is sposed to be my surrogate diary. i have this issue online (and even in writing) where i over-perceive myself ("perceive" is a pretty-sounding word. so is sieve.) and my online presence bc its so customizable and because im so disconnected from my sense of self. im a people pleaser even when im writing in a private little diary cause im always thinking, my mom is going to read it, how will this sound to my mom when she reads it, oh god my mom, my mom, my mom (and, to a lesser extent, other people). i hate it. i feel prickled and trapped and smothered sometimes, but dear god i love my mom more than anything. but still, sometimes i feel like im in 1984 and shes reading my thoughts as well as my texts before i can delete them. but also, she pays for me to exist -its a mixed bag with high highs and low lows.

im really hoping that the self-perception thing doesn't happen this time. i hope i can have a better self-concept and be a better person. ive wasted maybe 2 years (i don't want to say that ☹︎) on being rock bottom unhappy, on being filled with hatred for myself, on dreading my own body and face, on corroding and ruminating for too long, until i found myself incapable of loving and v isolated feeling. its an awful way to exist because you deny yourself and other people so much beauty, and because it hampers your ability to really love and be there for other people. i wanna talk about that more (and i spose i can here)

-partially my sadness was/is cause im lesbian and m being raised catholic. ive got a lot of issues to work thorugh hahahaha. or, should i say, teeheeheehee. (LEGALIZE SAYING TEEHEEHEE!!! PEOPLE R SO MEAN AND THEY SPIT ON ME WHEN I WRITE "TEEHEEHEE" INSTEAD OF HAHAHA)

dear god this is very stream of consciousness. well, anyway. i'm not writing it to be read (or at least trying NOT to write it to be read). im writing it to communicate with myself. thats not working very well, i just read through the whole thing again.

i hope this gives me a sense of purity (not like weird sex/virginity stuff, but mental purity, like pure love or pure salt or pure vinegar, with no issues, just clear and soft and good) and of self, like prayer. id probably believe in god without the church and them being mean to lesbians and girls and non catholics and so many other ppl and whatnot bc i love to think that love inhabits everything and i sincerely deeply in my little heart of hearts think it does. i think i might believe in god??? i don't know. i am trying my best pookies.

im a girlblogger cause im a girl!! also im sincerely really trying to be okay and happy. and maybe be buddhist? i got this lovely slim little book by a buddhist monk thich nhat hanh called "true love" and i want that. i want to be a good kind person to myself and everybody else. as karissa love (she is my comfort youtuber and i adore her v much) puts it, i want to radiate love. that sounds a little crazy but perchance i am a little crazy.

perchance.

also, darn it, i cursed. ive decided im sposed to not curse, so that when i do people are very shocked like "wow omg she said f*ck??? she never says f*ck!!!" and think its a big deal and everything. i could also swear tons so ppl think im tough, but i don't want to scare anynody and i curse like a toddler bc im so out of practice. oh well.

anyway thats the first entry! hello world!! i hope im ok and that this helps me.

mwah

#first post #girlblogging #blogger #diary entry

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years ago

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Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Intense Years)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is 16-17, also ive really never written anything about team iron man so this was weird, someone needs to tell me i dont need every single movie detail in here

prompt: takes place from cacw and smhc

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Aftermath (4) Continued (5)

after the events in sokovia, you set up the relief fund for displaced sokovians and dealt with physical clean up while the avengers...

well, they had to deal with the press—and the governments of the world

getting to know your new suit AI, JOSHUA

briefly looking for bruce; no luck there

you ended up doing the MIT september foundation presentation with tony

and ending the presentation after pepper’s name popped up on the screen

“it’s probably best we get out of here”

you were his entire support system while he was going through his break with pepper

meeting charles spencer’s mother, who really gave your dad a piece of her mind

“my son died, but your daughter gets to live on. if you lost her, maybe you’d show some sympathy for murdering my child”

*awkward silence from you*

*awkward silence from tony otw to the compound*

HATING the sound of the sokovia accords, yet understanding why they’re being ratified

being torn between signing them or not and having a huge argument with the other avengers

“y/n, why dont you listen to your dad for once and sign the damn thing”

“uncle rhodey, you know why i dont want to sign. if they have us, they have access to our suits. you really think the UN should be telling us how to use them?”

“your defense doesn’t even make sense. i had the war machine or iron patriot or whatever the hell you want to call it, but the military was calling the shots”

“and look where you are now”

“right, well i wouldn’t expect a kid to understand”

“are you kidding me, rhodes? you’re gonna play the ‘im older than you’ card?”

comforting wanda while she feared being taken

and as soon as you heard about what happened in lagos

“think about it, maximoff. if you didnt do what you did, do you know how many more casualties there may have been?”

“but i killed innocents”

“no, rumlow killed innocents. you contained that blast better than anyone else could have and you prevented a whole bunch of deaths, give yourself some credit”

okay, so you weren’t the best at talking someone down while they were upset

staying in berlin with your father while the whole bucky thing began to get sorted out

but he sent you out to stay with nat while he had some “private time” with steve

tony keeping you close to him during the power outage at the base

until it turned out you brought your suit and tony did not!

everyone was looking at you to take down bucky, but it just seemed like a bad idea, you didn’t want to hurt him because you didn’t want to hurt steve

stalling to try and buy steve time to subdue his friend

“y/n, come on, for christ sake!”

“got it, dad! i know what im doing!”

“i dont think you do!”

feeling your stomach drop when bucky shot into your dad’s hand, if it wasn’t for his latest invention, he may have gotten seriously hurt

you had a slight change of heart after that, you couldn’t bare to lose your dad. not after all those close calls...

getting yelled at by secretary ross and the wonderful 36 hour ultimatum you, nat, and tony received

“i have a plan”

“don’t say the spider boy”

“fine, i wont say it”

a nice trip to queens :)

when this parker kid finally got home, tony left you to socialize with his aunt

small talk is sometimes unbearable

“so, what’s it like being tony stark’s daughter?”

“honestly? im always tired”

peter becoming a tagalong on your mission, which you didn’t really think was appropriate

“dad, i dont really think we should’ve brought the kid...”

“why? you’re about the same age as him, its not much different”

“um...no, i meant this isnt his battle. i don’t care how old he is”

face off between tony and cap where you literally just swallowed all your pride and apologized because you couldn’t handle the fact that the team was being ripped apart like this

team ups with Spider-Man

“so, uh, do you hate me or something?”

“hey, kid? we’re kind of in the middle of something, i’ll get back to you on that”

“it’s a yes or no question, y/n”

“pass”

so, things didn’t exactly go as planned...

your (former) teammates were taken to the RAFT and you couldn’t pull it together in front of them

they were pretty pissed at you

“im sorry, im so sorry, i should’ve done better”

they ignored you (up until scott lang)

“all you stark’s are the same”

“stay out of this, bugboy”

taking to the remote hydra base in another famous father/daughter teamup

“just like the old days, right kiddo?”

“i guess so”

“hey, cheer up, it’s not all that bad”

waltzing right in there to meet your friend and foe

seeing the video of your grandparents dying

*being killed

absolutely stunned by seeing such a gruesome thing

even after all you’ve seen, this really got to you

you were robbed of ever meeting them, which made you angry, but you couldn’t stay angry because there were so many things out of everyones control

realizing that this was a good time to hold tony back

“JOSHUA, lock down y/n’s suit. protocol: baby gate”

apparently your dad still had some old protocols in your suit that you hadn’t found yet

“JOSHUA? reboot! override protocol: baby gate”

“i’m sorry, miss y/n, but i cannot do that”

watching your father attempt to get revenge

and get critically injured

simultaneously working on opening the suit back up for a bad plan

finally getting the emergency release and stumbling out of your suit, rushing towards the conflict and throwing yourself in the middle of it

“please, dad. enough damage has been done.”

“y/n, get out of the way”

he saw you shaking and crying and he realized what he was doing

attacking the only family you guys really had

getting shoved out of the way so that they could end this fight once and for all

JOSHUA finally rebooting and bringing the suit over to shield you while you helplessly watched the end of this fight

when bucky and steve left, your suit disarmed and you crouched down beside your father

“come on, let’s just go home”

“im sorry”

“i know, it’s okay”

trying to comfort your dad after his defeat

you picked up cap’s shield and returned to your suit, it was time to go home

after a brief time of recovery (while you helped work on uncle rhodey’s prototype prosthetics), there was a slight change of plans for you

“okay, so for your punishment after what you pulled during my...divorce with cap, you’re going to babysit the spiderling so you gain some perspective”

“hold on, what?! what do you mean ‘perspective?’”

“i mean you dont know what it’s like to be in charge of the life of a teenager, so now you get to find out! congratulations on your promotion!”

it was not fun at all because peter kept blowing up your phone and you kept having to tell him there was nothing for him to do

Y/N: I’ll let you know when there’s a spider-level threat, kapeesh?

P. Parker: Yes, ma’am, sorry.

peter going behind your back to do some “superhero work”

and you having to swoop in to fix everything last second

“come on, you stole my thunder, y/n!”

“no, peter, i saved your life. next time you have a lead, call me first”

and then he didn’t 😌✨💕

“Y/N, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“put him through, JOSHIE...hey dad, how’s dubai?”

“taking care of a kid is harder than it looks, isn’t it?”

“don’t start with me”

damage control ahahah 🤡

“peter, why cant you just call me in? you don’t stop texting me for months but for this you go radio silent? you almost died. and you put a bunch of lives in danger! do you want me to have to go to your aunt and tell her you died?”

“im sorry! i just...i dont want to be a sidekick”

“kid, you’re gonna have a long time to make a name for yourself...but not if you’re dead!”

he started crying and you were very uncomfortable so you tried to hug him? it helped.

letting him off easy (just like your dad did to you growing up)

but apparently tony came back and took the suit anyways and you were pretty pissed about it

avengers moving day :) yes, part of your punishment was helping happy with moving day and hearing him gush about how you were “growing into such a responsible adult”

“happy i dont know if you noticed but ive basically been an adult since i was 12”

“keep telling yourself that, kiddo”

seeing an explosion and immediately knowing it was peter

“i’ll see you later, happy, love you!”

investigating the crash site and whaddaya know, there’s peter and his first bad guy, you were kind of proud

“peter, you okay?”

“nope!”

“okay, cool”

more damage control lmao (a/n: yall sick of damage control yet?)

a congratulatory call from your dad

“hey! you did pretty good, all things considered. why don’t you take the kid to the avengers compound for his special surprise?”

“aye aye, see you soon.”

“love you, kiddo”

“you too, dad”

quick fast forward to peter rejecting the position as an avenger while the press was outside, yes, you were surprised

but then your dad finally proposed to pepper, it was a pretty cool engagement announcement

“y/n, will you be my maid of honor?”

“duh!”

happily ever after (a/n: until the next part is up)

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korpuskat · 4 years ago

Text

Kinktober Day 10 - Cybering - Tomura Shigaraki/Eijirou Kirishima

[Ao3 Mirror] Rating: Teen (series will be Explicit) Word Count: 2,732 Summary: Running the League of Villains and being on the run without any resources is really stressful. Sometimes, Shigaraki just wants to relax, play a game, and virtually kill people.Kirishima feels the same way. Contains: Among Us shenanigans, future Kirishima/Shigaraki

I’ve been wanting to write this fic for a while and once again I can’t make it short enough to write in one day so here’s a like 2 or 3 part series.

=====

He's tired. Exhausted. More than anything in the world Tomura Shigaraki misses his bed- his room- his consoles and games from the time before. Before Kamino, before Sensei had gone and-

Tomura scowls, chases the thought from his mind. He's been over this a hundred times, been stewing in it even day for weeks, there's no point getting worked up again. So he does what little he can to relax, to lie back on the old, dingy mattress and the rotted, half-ripped sheets. His coat will act as a fine enough blanket tonight, but for now- now he's too tense, too angry to sleep. Normally, he'd invest some time in his latest game, a series he can drop an hour into until he's finally relaxed and ready to get the sleep that eludes him.

But then. He's lost that too, hasn't he? He's left with only his phone and a data plan on someone's bill somewhere that has yet to be traced to him. (At least he hopes; would be rather awkward if the heroes were aware of his late night search history).

There are few games he can play and enjoy, mindless things, but damn if there isn't one that keeps his attention. Tomura sets his name to Dust and loads into the first lobby he sees. As soon as he loads in he moves to the laptop to change his color to black. The chat explodes:

KingExplos (orange): you made it public dumbass KingExplos (orange): gtfo rando

Tomura sneers at the next one, considers finding another lobby.

AllMight (green): Welcome! Floaty (pink): hi!

The prospect of being imposter and killing him first makes Tomura stay.

RedRiot (red): Oops sparky (yellow): but we got 10 players now! RedRiot (red): Ignore orange, Dust Alienqueen (purple): He's cranky lol

They must all know each other, probably all in a Discord together. So long as they're not teaming, it doesn't matter, he can put up with their too-friendly chatter for now.

Dust (black): start RedRiot (red): Right!! Sorry!!

Tomura rolls his eyes, but settles back into his pillow as the timer counts down. The first round goes smoothly; he's a crewmate and works through his tasks with stunning precision, except for the damn card swipe that takes three attempts. He ends up doing the refueling task at the same time as red, the energetic little bean circling his own black avatar a few times in enthusiasm. Tomura scowls, considers the likelihood that red is an imposter all too happy to follow Tomura to the engines, but lets that worry fade- as halfway through the first refueling someone reports orange's body.

Alienqueen (purple): where Froppy (lime): where? Shouto (white): ?

Then, the location come in one by one, all except for the reporter:

AllMight (green): froppy and I were in admin! Froppy (lime): yep sparky (yellow): afk in caf lol Shouto (white): elec with alien

It takes a minute, and Tomura begins to suspect a self-report, until at last:

Ingen (blue): KingExplos's body was outside Navigation and I am sure I saw Floaty running away towards Oxygen! Therefore, pink is an imposter! Floaty (pink): what!! I was at up engine, blue's lying

Tomura grins, he does so love this part.

Dust (black): pink's lying. Dust (black): i was in up engine. RedRiot (red): Yeah!! RedRiot (red): Dust and I were doing refuel together! Floaty (pink): I was just outside, going to medbay Floaty (pink): Ingen don't lie to them!!

The banner pops up: Dust has voted. The rest of the group follows, ringing in one after another.

Froppy (lime): sorry floaty Floaty (pink): dang it Ingen!!

Sure enough, a little pink bean floats out into space followed by Floaty was an Imposter. Easy. Even if blue was slow on clarifying, it should be an easy game with only one dead and one imposter left.

The game resumes- and Red excitedly follows Tomura's avatar back to the upper engines to finish refueling. Tomura finishes first and- watching as Red's avatar remains stuck to the console- waits for Red to finish. It's logical, Tomura decides, to go in pairs and not get split up. Even if he wins, it still sucks to die. And when Red runs to him, circles him again, they pass by the reactor to go get more fuel to do lower engine.

There's no body interruption this time. Tomura only has one task left and it's trash. The bar's not far enough over yet for him to use his visual task- but Red circles him obnoxiously again and moves back and forth back towards storage. He has nothing better to do, Tomura decides, and follows him. Red leads him past storage, past comms, and up the corridor into weapons. He stops next to the console- and sure enough, the ship's lasers fire as Red does the asteroid game.

Well, at least Tomura knows he wasn't running around with the only other murderer on the ship. Red circles him again, excitedly following as Tomura wanders back into the cafeteria.

Just in time to watch green snap lime's neck.

Tomura blinks, then huffs a single amused half-laugh. But Red is the one to get there first, smashing the report button as green still just stands there over lime's bisected corpse.

RedRiot (red): DEKU!!!!!!!! RedRiot (red): WHY!!!!!! AllMight (green): I'm sorry! Alienqueen (purple): where RedRiot (red): YOU KILLED HER??? AllMight (green): I'm sorry, Froppy!!!! Shouto!! Chargebolt!!

Sure enough, the crewmate list shows not just lime dead, but white and yellow too. Impressive, actually. Tomura wonders where the bodies were, if only the one they witnessed is the one that got reported. Probably electrical. Red continues his caps ranting.

RedRiot (red): UNMANLY! Ingen (blue): Where was the body found, RedRiot? Dust (black): its green Alienqueen (purple): omg! all might's an imposter!

Tomura resists snorting. The votes come in fast- ending with green voting for himself. He spins off into space and Tomura is rewarded with the winner's screen. He's shocked to see everyone- everyone load back into the lobby. Not a single leaver? They're definitely in a group together.

KingExplos (orange): WHY THE FUCK DID YOU KILL ME FIRST?? Floaty (pink): gg lol sparky (yellow): killed by all might sparky (yellow): what a way to go AllMight (green): I said I'm sorry! Shouto (white): It's alright, that's how you win. Alienqueen (purple): no its alMIGHT KingExplos (orange): SHUT UP AND START

Tomura allows himself to laugh at that at least, orange's frustration more so than purple's joke. They're not terrible, no obvious cheaters thus far- and their ingroup dynamics keep the focus off him.

This time, the text pops up red. Imposter. Tomura grins- and notices the character off to the side of his avatar. Red. Well. So long as he isn't following him around like a lost dog, maybe Tomura can carry him to a win.

The game starts and Tomura immediately heads down to admin, stops in front of the wiring panel and waits, watches the other characters filter in and out- for a moment it is just him and green (an urge to kill All Might no matter who catches him is intense), but pink and purple both wander in and Tomura has to move on. He heads down to storage, finds nobody idling there (too close to admin anyway). Electrical is obvious, a great kill spot, but on a whim he heads right into communications- and finds orange by his lonesome.

He drops into the room, slits orange's throat, and is back out heading up past shields, nav, and weapons. On the way he passes Red, who stops to wiggle back and forth at him before continuing on down the way Tomura came from. Tomura makes it all the way into the cafeteria and presses up to the wiring panel next to blue. He waits for the kill cooldown to reset- is just about to tap the button when--

Body reported! Tomura scowls- and blinks at the megaphone under Red's name. Blinks at the second red X in the crew list, white also having been killed and not by Tomura.

RedRiot (red): Stop killing Explos first! I can hear him yelling up there!! Alienqueen (purple): where? RedRiot (red): Comms AllMight (green): oh no RedRiot (red): Came from nav and didn't see anybody

Tomura stares at the chat. He'd killed white and reported orange's body to look innocent, not a bad plan-

Ingen (blue): I was doing the trash removal in cafeteria with Dust who was doing wiring. Floaty (pink): was in the middle of reactor game :( Alienqueen (purple): f Alienqueen (purple): in medbay waiting on samples sparky (yellow): wait shoutos dead too Froppy (lime): deku is it you again? AllMight (green): what!! no!! RedRiot (red): You can't kill your way to being at the top of the class!!

Students. Ah. Makes sense how they all know each other now, the dynamics at play. Perfect.

sparky (yellow): all might sus lol AllMight (green): i'm not!! AllMight (green): i was in elec doing the spinny thing Dust (black): alone? AllMight (green): i think so sparky (yellow): sus lol Alienqueen (purple): yeahhh sparky (yellow): wait sparky (yellow): dust where were you???

Tomura rolls his eyes.

Froppy (lime): ingen said they were in cafe with him Dust (black): wires in cafe w blue sparky (yellow): oh Floaty (pink): read chat spark lmao sparky (yellow): sorry dust llo sparky (yellow): lol* Alienqueen (purple): youre so dumb omg Ingen (blue): Dust and I were in the cafeteria completing tasks. Froppy (lime): are we voting? sparky (yellow): green is sus for sure!! Floaty (pink): idk :( RedRiot (red): Elec is near comms and he was alone...

Tomura's finger hovers over the vote button. Too aggressive and he'll look suspicious... but voting someone off immediately would definitely help.

Alienqueen (purple): im skipping for now Alienqueen (purple): but ur on thin ice!!! AllMight (green): its not me!!!

The votes rolls in one by one. Red's appears in the list- and Tomura wishes he'd been more clear how he was voting. He plays it safe, skips. There's plenty of time to coax out that suspicion. The results tally up: pink, yellow, and sure enough Red had voted for green. If Tomura had voted the other way it would've been enough to eject him- damn. It's fine, he can work with it.

The game resumes and Tomura guides his avatar through rooms, pauses at task locations to seem genuine, to wait for a good opportunity. He finds the perfect one, at the bottom of storage blue leads him towards the trash chute. The grin that curls at his lips is cruel, but he can't help it. They're the perfect target, blue's precision could be a problem if Tomura needs to lie. Blue wiggles then stops to complete the task- trash explodes out from the side of the ship, proving blue's innocence. Tomura already knew that. Before blue can step away somewhere more visible, he taps the kill button and his black avatar skewers blue's.

He runs towards electrical, dips in and makes it all the way to the vent, stopping there- and waits for just a moment. It might be risky to leave electric so close to the body, so he jumps in the vent and slides his way over to security, popping out when he's sure no one is around. Easy. He stands by the cams but stares at the hallway, waiting for a potential victim as his timer ticks down. People probably aren't done, not concerned with using security yet- and just as Tomura is about to give up and seek out prey for himself, a little pink bean comes running by.

They turn into the reactor room and approach one of the tasks. Tomura sits at the other task, right next to each other- only seconds left, 5, 4, 3- he just needs them to be below average at the memory game- 2, 1-

He jams the button as they begin to run away and his avatar stabs theirs and- Body reported!

It's fine, it's fine. Nobody else was in reactor with him, he's sure.

Dust (black): where Alienqueen (purple): KIRI....... AllMight (green): where? sparky (yellow): ? RedRiot (red): uh Alienqueen (purple): KIRI KILLED TSU....

Shit.

sparky (yellow): riot!!! how is that manly!! Alienqueen (purple): RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME IN MEDBAY AllMight (green): omg Dust (black): lol

Tomura is definitely not laughing out loud, but if he doesn't respond he'll look suspicious.

RedRiot (red): Look!! RedRiot (red): You weren't supposed to come in!! sparky (yellow): hahaha ok vote kiri Alienqueen (purple): YOU KILLED TSU! RedRiot (red): You weren't supposed to see!!

That does make Tomura shake his head, perhaps a little amused at Red's explanation. No use trying to defend him. He taps the vote button and they come pouring in. Tomura can still win this, he's pulled it off with worse- so long as Red sticks around to pull out some sabotages for him, there's a good chance. The voting ends, green being the last hold out-- and Tomura's mouth drops open.

As one final parting gift, Red has voted for green.

Red's body goes spinning off into space, the confirmation RedRiot was an Imposter appearing after

It doesn't always mean something, but maybe, maybe, the rest of the crew will think it was Red implicating green as his co-conspirator. The game resumes and Tomura wanders over towards medbay. They'll probably be grouping up soon, he needs to work fast to separate them- and the alarm makes his screen flash. Red's already at work.

Tomura crosses cafe to go to oxygen, stands at the console there- and yes. yes. purple comes running in from nav. The cooldown from the round starting is rough, but it's enough, it has to be- the sabotage ends (damn, if he could've killed her before that, he could've won immediately) just as it comes off the timer. The black avatar rips open to reveal a mouth and takes a chomp out of purple.

Tomura runs to the cafeteria- and watches as yellow slams the emergency button. He'll notice purple is dead, they were together, shit-

sparky (yellow): deku!!!!!!!!

and yellow. Yellow votes. Tomura full-on fucking laughs.

AllMight (green): what!! sparky (yellow): you been sus all game its you isnt it!!! AllMight (green): no!! it's you! accusing me to get the rando to vote me out and win! sparky (yellow): omg no! Dust (black): actually Dust (black): it's neither of you

and Tomura votes for green.

sparky (yellow): OMG sparky (yellow): R U FR AllMight (green): i told you!!!! sparky (yellow): how do u change ur vote???? Dust (black): you cant AllMight (green): that was too sneaky dust

Green accepts his fate, votes for himself. Tomura wishes he was actually All Might- that'd certainly be a novel way to kill him, to eject him into space. The winner's screen appears: Black's avatar and the ghost of RedRiot standing as menacingly as little bean creatures can.

He taps through the ad, loads back into the lobby.

RedRiot (red): Haha! We got y'all! KingExplos (orange): you fucking dick Alienqueen (purple): denki ur a moron LMAO Floaty (pink): that was amazing dust KingExplos (orange): fucking killing me first again Floaty (pink): but omg :( AllMight (green): i told you!! Floaty (pink): I just needed to do reactor :( RedRiot (red): Dust you were beast!!

Tomura blinks, feels sweat gather on his palms. A few of the players from the previous game didn't return.

Dust (black): thanks RedRiot (red): Do you have discord?? RedRiot (red): I have go to sleep but we made a great team! RedRiot (red): Should play again some time!!

He shouldn't. It's not like his discord is private or obviously him or anything, Tomura only uses it for the gaming servers, a quicker way to look for group before loading in- but he hasn't needed to do that in some time. He'd been swiping away any notifications, set himself on do not disturb and didn't open it to not make himself miss his consoles.

But he liked this. Red was good, good instincts, wasn't overly annoying or stupid, and more than anything, they had good synchronization. What harm could it be? At worst Tomura just blocks him, at best they play Among Us some more. He waits for two more people to leave the group, probably also headed off to sleep if they're all students before typing out his username.

=====

If you like my writing, please consider reblogging or leaving me a tip!

#tomura shigaraki #eijiro kirishima #eijirou kirishima #Shigakiri #bnha #kinktober #kinktober 2020 #among us #kat talks #Katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou #denki kaminari #izuku midoriya

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eitelle · 4 years ago

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hii!! congrats on 60 followers ❤️ can i request a haikyuu male matchup! i am a female that goes by she/her and i am bisexual my height 5’2 and have brown hair and brown eyes my big three are sun virgo moon aries and rising pisces my favorite color is black or red my fav food has to be french fries 🧍‍♀️i can be very social and i but am also very introvert sometimes (if that makes sense) i also love pda and staying up late i also love my friends very much and i’m also very clingy i get distracted very easily so it’s hard for me to focus sometimes

sorry if i didn’t rly explain good enough but have a good day/night ❤️

HELLO LOVE IM BACK!! im very understanding ab the whole introvert deal so i hope i can do you justice for this!!

based off of the pda part, im matching you up with: SUGAWARA KOUSHI!!

some reasons:

he would bring u out of ur shell sometimes but also knows how to give u space

he loves loves loves pda

and he helps u in a lot of other aspects as hes not a mom friend or a mom but he is more prepared and mature than other members of karasuno 😭🤚

SOME HCS!!

yall are the hand holding cheek kissing makeout in dark hallways & running all around the school like u came out of a (read: my) dark academia pinterest board couple

ugh he prob adores ur eyes and points them out all the time

he loves it when u run ur hands through his hair

he love love LOVES those late night marathon dates over zoom where yall are just on zoom reacting to like some studio ghibli movie marathon or some huge ass kdrama

hes also very clingy and loves to help u study sometimes

STOP THE WAY HE WOULD TAKE U ON A STUDY DATE AND DO THE THING WHERE HE PUTS HIS HAND OVER URS AND LIKE RUBS CIRCLES W HIS THUMB ON IT-

i feel like he loves tea and if u like coffee u have the tea or coffee arg at least 2 times a day

NOT SWEATER WEATHER COMING ON-

sorry, anyways uh yall love to spend ur lunch break in like an art room and u just sit there watching him rant ab these amazing artists and art pieces

he has ur contact name as “baby 💞” but in the little notes thing it just has things he needs to remember to help be the best boyfriend to u he can be

u have him as “dork 💕” BC U HAVE A RUNNING JOKE AB HOW HES KINDA A NERD AND HELPS U FOCUS/STUDY

in the notes thing under his contact it just says “simp.” and thats it 😭🤚

he has a folder. A MF FOLDER. in his notes app ab quotes or habits or just anything rly ab stuff that u do

yall talk tea ab the entire team. like kagehina, tsukiyamayachi (one of my random ass crack poly ships), ukatake, tanaka and kiyoko, everyone. no one is safe.

he liked to move slow but fast, so people sometimes think yall are in the honeymoon phase but yall also act like an old married couple? if that makes sense 😀👍‼️

YUH YUH YUH!! GET IT BEST FRIEN!! PRETTY SETTER TYPE BEAT ASF

OK LITTLE DRABBLE/ONE SHOT BASED OFF THE HCS THING:

it was 1:31 am and you were on episode 6 of ‘crash landing on you’ with the silver haired setter you called your boyfriend on the zoom with you. you two opted for a netflix party date but he realized he couldn’t “see your cute little reactions” and instead called on zoom as you watched together.

slowly feeling a bit bored by the kdrama at this certain part you click the zoom icon at the bottom of your computer, to stare at your boyfriend your messy brown hair at the top of the screen and his huge smile filling up the screen. as you continue to watch u dont realize how he puts the screen in split screen, hovering over the zoom tab the icon “remove pin” popping up when gracing over your icon.

“HE SAID WHAT NOW-” you scream as a rather shocking part of the k-drama pops up. koushi, too busy staring at your face and not the show yelps as your stammers of shock fill his ears.

on your end, his soft giggles and yelps of surprise fill your ears but truth be told you were too invested in what was going on. later on as the night turned into day, you eventually passed out at 6:24 am finally letting sleep overtake you, and your small snores filling sugas ears as he says “goodnight darling” and ends the meeting.

THAT WAS KINDA SHORT AND KINDA TRASH IM SORRY BESTIE BUT NOW SOME ARTBREEDER AND TEXTS AF‼️😩🤘

ARTBREEDER⁉️ WE ROCKIN W IT⁉️ THEY VALID I SAY‼️

ANYWAYS TEXTS NOW LOVELY!!

YUH I HOPE U ENJOYED!!

#love elle <3 #michelles 60 follower matchup event

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reeesea · 4 years ago

Text

Something Sweet: Part Three

~sweet beginnings~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: minsung, jisung/minho

warning: mild language

words: 2.5k ish

summary: sweet beginnings and small apartments, also Seungmin baby shows up

a/n: Im honestly just proud of myself for posting a third chapter woo!! lemme know if you read and enjoyed <3

also the spacing got wack trying to do the text convos, so hope the bold and non bold isn't too gross to look at. Minho and Jisung

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

Minho wakes up to the sun streaming in through the thinly veiled curtains over his window. Thankfully he woke up to a minimal headache in spite of having gone out to the bar and an impromptu concert the night before. Rolling over in his small twin sized bed he reached for his phone to check the time and any potentially important notifications.

9:26 am

[ 2 new messages from Rich Boy Han Jisung ]

Minho finds himself smiling at the new messages from the boy that had stumbled upon him last night.

2:25 am

Youre right I do hear it all the time

but it sounds pretty sweet coming from you ;}

I'll tell J.One you thought he was amazing

9:28 am

Careful Han, your cockiness is showing

Jisungs’s cocky demeanor does nothing but make him more endearing to the older, but something gave Minho the impression that the boy already knew this. Not expecting a reply from the other this early in the morning, Minho stretched out of bed and made his way out of his small bedroom and quietly to the shared bathroom. Not a small feat in the old apartment shared by him and his roommates. Creaky floorboards, squeaky doors, and over all close proximity to each other makes being quietly courteous in the morning a frequent challenge for the boys.

The living room at the end of the small hallway was turned into a shared bedroom for Minho's two roommates. Felix’s mattress had gotten a bed frame from some trading website a few months back when he moved in. The makeshift wall of hung shower curtains and a fold out screen gave the boys the illusion of privacy between their respective sides of the room. Even though more times than not, Minho has come home to find the lanky brunette curled up in Felix's bed instead of on his designated couch.

Climbing over the piles of the boys’ clothes, Minho makes it to the bathroom without disturbing the other two. The two were still passed out from working their night shifts, draped over each other on the freckled boy’s bed. Neither showed signs of awakening any time in the morning hours. Minho showered quickly and changed in order to make his way out of the apartment and on his way to the studio to practice his Saturday away

Minho would have thought that the both of them would have remained in their university dorms for the summer, if they weren’t able to find apartments on their own. But, at some point after he had graduated, he had gained himself plus two of his underclassmen as roommates. He really couldn't complain though, it all made sense as all three of them were a part of the same dance studio, barely a block away, and all had reasons to be saving money. Paying a fraction of rent really helped with all that had to be saved in order to pay for school, studio fees, living, breathing, and most importantly audition fees.

As the summer had set in, so had the wave of audition opportunities for companies and crews. Felix had mentioned needing to prepare a video audition last week for a few entertainment companies in the area. Hyunjin was busy trying to save up his money to pay for the upcoming semesters at school to graduate like Minho had.

Entering the practice room and being welcomed by the distinctive scent of a dance studio was enough to bring Minho back to reality. Since graduating, he had been stuck in his thoughts about what to do with his future a lot. His childhood dreams of getting into the prestigious Yellow Wood Dance Academy seemed to slip farther away from him with every passing year. His audition tapes each year during university were almost always sent back, along with a ‘We are sorry to inform you…’

It’s not like Minho couldn't keep applying, but with every year the rejection stung a little bit more, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to take another blow. No matter how confident Minho acted about his looks, when it came to dancing his ego was glass fragile. His passion for dance sometimes felt like the only thing that kept him standing, but it had been a while since he had felt rewarded for his dedication. Even when his practically broken dream haunted him a little too much, focusing back to his craft really gave him a better grasp on reality. Making his way to the front of the room to plug in his phone to pick music, a new notification popped up.

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

10:03am

dw dw its all fake i assure you, all just a ploy to get you to like me

What you up to on this fineee saturday mornin??

Hmmm wouldnt you like to know

i only tell boys i like so...

Minho smiled in spite of himself. Even over text the sparkly eyed boy was able to pull out and dust off his genuine smile. It had definitely been a while since Minho had found himself freely smiling, but here comes Han Jisung crash landing into his life, running amuck. After spending a moment debating whether or not just to tell the younger of his activities anyway, he came to the conclusion that mentioning dance would only result in more questions, and Minho really wasn't feeling like spilling his passions and dreams with the other already.

Haha i am only even more motivated now >:D

Dont strain yourself too much with that,

im just enjoying my saturday before my shift later.

Queuing up some music Minho migrated to the middle of the room to casually freestyle and warm up for the day. Allowing the music to flood his ears, movements to take over his limbs, and only his feet to remind him of where he was, Minho’s mind went blank as he began to relax and give up control of his body to the steady beats of the song.

---

By the time Minho wrapped up his practice and was heading home the sun was already starting to settle on the lower half of the sky. Surprisingly the day had passed him by quickly. Spending the whole day grinding out a routine he had been recently working to perfect was not usually an overall fun time, but Minho found that he was able to keep his practice productive and enjoyable.

His smile throughout the day certainly had nothing to do with his breaks to text to Jisung. The casual banter between them felt natural, and the light conversation made him feel lighter on his feet as he moved across the floor. Even with the flirty nature of their introduction, their conversation never steered far from how anyone would expect two close friends to interact. Minho found himself smiling more throughout the day as he checked Jisung’s messages throughout the morning and afternoon.

12:25 pm

Also for the record my capacity to flirt is honestly quite unimpressive

I hope you aren’t talking to me for my stage charisma and charm

To sweep you off you feet, i may be a disappointment

Usually i'm just awkward, cant flirt, doesnt leave the house, Jisung

You almost tripped over your feet walking into the bar last night

Dw im not sure id want you to sweep me off my feet with that balance

You wound me ;--;

By talking to Jisung, he had somehow managed to satisfy all of Minho’s previous curiosities while sparking new ones. Even with Minho generally avoiding giving away his own personal interests and dreams, Jisung didn't hold those same reservations and filled their conversation with “fun facts” and lively stories. Jisung’s lively play by play of the bickering taking place between his group mates, now officially introduced as Chan and Changbin, had Minho giggling on the floor of the practice room. The way Jisung described everything brought it to life in ways that he hadn’t expected from a casual text conversation. The boy was definitely a great storyteller even just over type, and Minho found himself wondering if he would get to hear his endless stories in person.

---

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

3:36 pm

Youre one interesting man Lee Minho

Han, you know almost nothing about me

On the contrary I feel like I know a good amount

Youre name is Lee Minho

You work at the fancy restaurant Menu 98

You used to work at the bar we were at last night

You have a really beautiful smile

…

Are you quite done

Definitely not but if i start going off about how stunning your eyes are

you might block me

Which would be a shame please dont

What happened to awkward Jisung who cant flirt huh?

Minho returned to the small apartment to find Felix attempting to cook some ramen in the microscopic kitchen and Hyunjin sprawled across the couch watching some variety show. Felix was probably fueling up in order to spend the night gaming the weekend away before his work overtook his weekdays again. Hyunjin barely looked to be conscious but still managed to wave a greeting to Minho as he walked into the room.

“How’d practice go?”

“Pretty well. Finally was able to clean up that middle section I’ve been messing up.” Minho hurried into the other room to shower once again before heading to the restaurant for his evening shift.

“Oh glad to hear it.” Felix’s voice filtered in from his place by the stove that was shoved in a corner of the room, along with a fridge and a sink that barely classified it as a kitchen unit. None of the three were complaining, the stove heated up their ramen water and the fridge kept their milk cold, what more could they ask for?

“WAIT, did you talk to that guy at the bar last night???” Hyunjin’s loud voice carried from the couch through their thin walls allowing Minho to clearly hear even if his bedroom door was closed.

“Which one, Jinnie?? You gotta be more clear than that.” Minho had actually stacked up a few numbers from his night and received atleast ten free drinks from other patrons. Not too bad for the first night out, but of course the only phone number he had bothered messaging happened to be the one he had been texting all day.

“You know the one, the rapper one you left to go see perform.” Minho of course knew, but he wasn't gonna admit it to his roommate so easily, and just hummed in response eliciting a groan from the younger.

“If you haven’t, you so should. 3racha is all everyone from the bar is talking about. Their concert must have been a big deal or something.”

“WHAT, 3RACHA? You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Felix, apparently a fan, shuffles in with his ramen in hand to accompany the loud outburst.

“Hyung! One of them gave you their number?? They’re literally like the next big thing in the music scene. Which one of them was it?”

J.One, Han Jisung, the cute pink hoodie guy

“His name is Jisung I’m pretty sure.” Minho was very sure. “I didnt know they were such a big deal”

“J.One gave you his number? Damn hyung, you don't even know. They’ve been performing locally for years but their fan base has grown a ton in the last year. There’s rumors that they've signed with a company and are going to come out with something soon.” Felix continued spouting off information on the group to them, as Minho continued his routine of preparing for work at Menu 98.

---

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

4:35 pm

Looks like my roommate is a fan of you guys

We’re not talking the tall beautiful bartender from last night right

No that was Hyunjin, Felix is the fan

beautiful?

Ah atleast ill be on the good side of one of ur roomies

Yeah tall boy was pretty, but something about him made me think he didnt like me

I think it was his face, and his height

Most tall pretty boys dont take too well to a squirrel boy being in their territory ya know.

Whats not to like about a cute squirrel boy

Im sure he likes you and youre over thinking

If his two roommates like you, he’ll have to like you by association

Did Lee Minho just admit to liking me

Wow the development, less than 24 hours

We love to see it

Your ridiculous

I said nothing of the sort

Sure sure hyung

Gtg now, dinner shifts starting

Have fun at work!!!!

(wait can i call you hyung???)

Minho left him on read as he walked into the restaurant, already bustling with waiters and the changing of shifts for the dinner crowd. ‘Less than 24 hours’ and Minho was already admitting indirectly that he liked the boy he had only just properly met the night before. Stranger things have happened he supposed. Minho continued to surprise himself with this one though. He was not one to seek out friendships or relationships. Anything more than the very occasional one night stand, was practically void from Minho’s social life. Other than the people he had met through dance and his roommates, there were very few others that Minho had chosen to form any kind of relationship with. Even his co-workers were mostly just faces and names he had to remember in order to do his job well.

Well, expect Seungmin.

“You look awfully happy today, who spiked your coffee this morning?” Seungmin had been a newly inserted character in Minho’s life but they became fast friends after a few too many late night shifts without proper caffeination.

Seungmin had been a newly hired host at Menu 98, just the average polite university student with enough experience to get hired. When Minho met him they exchanged the basic pleasantries and thought that would be the end of that, until one fated closing shift. A certain, tipsy, entitled, rich, high class asshole of a customer had held up Minho’s section for much of the night. Minho found himself being bossed around and verbally berated throughout the night, trying to serve the women who appeared to never be satisfied with the food or service Minho was offering. By the end of the night, she was their last customer and Minho saw her to the front to pay. His customer service smile, strained and barely holding up, and the woman’s complaints, even while paying, had him wanting to drop all his pleasantries and curse her out as she waltzed out the door.

“What an absolute fucking pain in the ass of a woman”

Minho hadn’t thought he had said his thoughts aloud, but looked up to catch Seungmin, who had let the words come out in hushed tones as he held a sickening polite smile on his face. After that point the two had bonded over various pain in the ass customers and a mutual love for sarcastic backhanded insults. Minho's relationship with Seungmin was probably the closest thing to a friendship that the older had experienced in a while.

“No spiked coffee, sadly”

“Well something’s making your usual sad bitch face smile, so it's gotta be good. Hmm...Meet someone?” Seungmin’s signature puppy eyes were on full display, but not without the signature mischievous glint they always held.

“Well wouldn't you like to know Seungmo~ but me and my usually flawlessly beautiful face got to go charm our way into some extra tips.” Minho gave the boy a gentle pat on his head, that was met with a stubborn pout forming at the younger’s lips.

“You definitely met someone, you usually don't have this much self-confidence so early into the evening.” Minho did nothing but giggle at his comment and made his way to the back room to begin his shift.

------

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

#stray kids fic #stray kids #skz #skz fic #minsung #lee minho #han jisung #stray kids han #lee know #jisung #idk what to tag anymore

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jeonsduck · 5 years ago

Text

Smoke and Mirrors pt 4

WARNINGS: gore, graphic imagery.

a/n: im so sorry

Since getting permission from your new supervisor to work in San’s office, you’d fallen into a bit of a routine. You woke up, got ready, fed Noodles, and San picked you up from your building because it was on his way to work. On some mornings he’d come upstairs instead of calling yo he got there, bearing gifts of a breakfast sandwich (for you) and canned tuna (for Noodles). By now, your elder landlady recognized San and he blew her a kiss when he picked you up in the mornings.

When you arrived at the office, you’d hole yourself up in the file room until lunch. Keran or San would occasionally come by to check on you and bring you a little styrofoam cup off coffee and remind you to take a break. Sometimes Byul would break in and walk all over your papers and laptop keyboard until you scratched her behind her ears.

At 11:45, San would slip a leash on Byul and the three of you would go on a walk to pick up lunch for the whole office. You all ate in the front room, Keran and the bodyguards included. This was of course, if San didn’t have a lunch meeting, which you were learning were reserved only for his most important clients (read: Hongjoong and company). You caught glimpses of them when they came to see San, but you had yet to be introduced to any of them. You were thankful for that because just from what you’d heard about them from Agent Heejin they were men to be feared and taken very seriously.

After lunch it was back to the dungeon to try and make sense of what the hell San’s friends were doing with their money.

If he wasn’t too busy in the afternoons he might pop in and help explain something to you. As the person who oversaw all these transactions, he was your best bet at explaining some of their more convoluted financial practices. Like Jongho claiming farm exemptions on his martial arts school. Except it WAS a farm, and a school, and apparently Jongho was very dedicated to the fact that his students live seperated from society to focus on their sport or something like that. Either way it was a really complicated way of saying, yes, his 35 acres are eligible for educational and agricultural exemptions. There were at least 5 cases like this for each of them, and your head was pounding from the explanations. The information dump you were going through on this case was worse than college.

San drove you home after he locked up for the night, or if he was staying late, he’d send you home in a car with the guards. After you’d started at ledgers until your eyes burned, you had to go talk to Agent Heejin. Sometimes she called you, other times she visited your apartment. You’d talk for as long as she deemed necessary, sometimes for upwards of two hours. Occasionally, you had something suspicious to report, but it was a rare occurrence. Usually you ended up chasing the same half a million dollars around in circles for the whole day across different accounts until there was no where else for you to follow it. It was exhausting. And so far, there was nothing groundbreaking to report, which meant you just got to spend a couple extra hours being grilled every night.

Fun daily routine, right? Not in the slightest.

Well, that wasn’t completely true. It was a little fun. Especially when you saw San dressed like a trainwreck with his glasses off, frowning down at a stack of papers. Or when you caught him looking at you from the doorway with a pencil held behind his ear. Or when he rolled his shirt sleeves up so he could go get you a document you couldn’t find. Or when he smiled at you in the cutest way, or well, any time San was being cute. Was that kinda super unprofessional? Yeah, but you’d be done with this case eventually and maybe after that something could happen? It wasn’t as though it was completely one sided. Someone didn’t just start picking you up and taking you to work just because you lived in the same direction. And you’d heard the guards gossiping around the water cooler about how they could never convince their boss to let them choose what to eat for lunch, but he always asked you before making a decision nowadays. And then there was that time you‘d turned your head too fast when he was leaning over your shoulder, and you’d both been trapped in that moment with your noses nearly touching for way too long. San had finally blinked and cleared his throat and you’d both awkwardly avoided each other’s eyes for the next hour.

Your mildly flirty and mostly boring routine was broken when your new supervisor asked you to come in for a status report. San dropped you back off at your office, and told you to call him once you were done so he could send a car to take you home, since you’d left yours at your apartment. You went back up to your floor for the first time in weeks, and made an hour long presentation on your progress with this case (which was miniscule to say the least). Your boss thanked you for the update, told you you were doing a good job, and let you know he’d be sending the notes you presented to the administration.

After you left his office, you stopped by your cubicle to tidy something’s up, grab some extra supplies you needed,

“Y/N! How’s it going?” Jacob said, catching you on your way out.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him, and you gave him a hug. You had missed your cubicle neighbor.

“Slowly. I don’t know if I’ll ever be done with this case.” you sighed.

Jacob chuckled and patted you on the back.

“You got some time? We could grab dinner, maybe a couple drinks?” he offered.

You checked your phone for messages from San, only to find that it was dead. Ah, might as well.

“Yeah I could do dinner. You had somewhere in mind?”

Dinner with Jacob was…. Nice. You didn’t realize until halfway through the meal that maybe Jacob thought this was a date. But you still weren’t sure. You were sure that Jacob was more than a little nervous, stuttering over a lot of his sentences and fidgeting. But he wasn’t overbearing or making you uncomfortable. He was nice. Jacob was nice.

He drove you home after the meal, walking you to the front door of your building. You told him you had a nice time. He smiled at you and said the same. Then he awkwardly scooted back into his car and drove away.

You headed up to your apartment, putting your phone on charge the second you got in. You fed Noodles, got ready for bed, and put on some TV to watch before you went to bed. When your phone turned on it started buzzing wildly, startling Noodles.

“Who was calling me like that?” you wondered out loud.

Flipping your phone back over, you saw you had 50 text messages, 34 missed calls, and multiple voicemails. All from San. Begining from the time you were supposed to call him, the messages increased in frequency and worry even through your dinner with Jacob. Your phone buzzed to life again suddenly, San’s name and picture flashing on your screen.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Oh, my god Y/N! I thought you were dead in an alley somewhere or something! You were supposed to call me when you finished at the IRS. ” San said, sounding relieved.

“Oh gosh, I didn’t mean to worry you. My phone died and then I went to dinner with my work friend Jacob. Besides, I told you, I could Uber home or something.” you said.

“Yeah, but you would have at least answered my call from an Uber. I didn’t know what had happened to you.” he huffed.

“Well, I’m fine and I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow to make up for it.” you offered.

“Fine. But letting your phone die can be dangerous. What if something happens and you can’t call me?” he says.

“Shouldn’t I be calling the police if I’m in danger?” you counter with a chuckle, but San is serious.

“No, you should call me. So, promise me you won’t let your phone die, and you’ll answer me when I call.” he says.

You sigh and agree.

“Fine, I’ll watch my phone battery and I will always pick up if you call. Are we cool now?” you ask.

San chuckles, “We are, but you still owe me lunch tomorrow.” he says.

“Of course. Good night San.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You shake your head and look at Noodles.

“He’s such a character isn’t he?” you ask him, and Noodles just meows in response.

You chuckle and turn the TV off, falling asleep.

The next day it’s back to the same grind. It’s like that for most of the week. On Thursday you get an email from your supervisor, asking if you know where Jacob’s gone. You reply that you don’t know, but you’ll reach out to him. When you call him after lunch, Jacob’s phone goes straight to voicemail. Weird, but you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, so you’re not really worried about it.

You see Jacob again on Saturday, but not in the way you were expecting, or ever wanted to see him. You got a call from the police station early that morning, asking you to come in about something. You thought it had something to do with San or the case you were working with the IRS. You never thought that they’d be calling you down to help identify Jacob’s waterlogged corpse.

It wasn’t a pretty sight. Whoever had done this, had been angry and well versed in the art of murder. His right hand was broken, shattered more like. So were both of his legs, one at the femur, one at the shin. He’d been garroted, a sharp wire choking him and cutting into his neck until he either asphyxiated or bled to death, whichever came first. That the coroner wasn’t quite sure of. What they were sure of, was that Jacob’s body had been beaten and mutilated before he’d been killed. His heart had been carved out of his chest cavity after the fact though. They’d found the charred remains in his car, which had been pushed deep into the woods and set on fire. Jacob’s body had been found in a lake not far from there, only because the killer had messed up when puncturing his lungs to prevent his body from floating.

You didn’t process this all at once though. You’d walked into the morgue, noted the awful smell, and the coroner had asked you to peel back the white sheet. You had, and nearly fell over in shock. That was your friend on the table. You stumbled back a couple steps, your ears ringing. You faintly heard the officer who had walked you here asking if that was Jacob on the table, and you nodded absently. You’d been handed a file on Jacob’s autopsy and then ushered out of the room by the officer who brought you there. You stumbled along like you were in a dream, not realizing that the cop was leading you to an interrogation room.

“We have reason to believe you were the last person to see Jacob alive, so we have a few questions for you…”

You sat there, shell shocked and more than a little traumatized, while the police questioned you for hours about the last time you saw Jacob. Nervous, but happy. A little excited, like an overgrown puppy. Different officers came to ask you the same questions, and you knew what they were doing. Trying to get you to crack, to admit something that didn’t happen, to find some flaw in your relationship, and easy out, a motive. But after you’d sobbed for three hours, you were too tired to even keep crying, and eventually they released you, emotionally numb and exhausted.

The sun was still shining outside the precinct, like the day had the right to be happy. You looked at your car, unwilling to drive, and on impulse, you called San.

Y/N?”

“Yeah, San can you come pick me up? I’m at the police station, I don’t think I should drive.” you said.

“What? Why are you at the police station? I’ll be there soon just hold on.” he said.

“Okay.” you sighed and hung up. You sat down on a bench outside, and after a few minutes, it began to sun shower. You snorted, but just sat there, getting soaked as other people ran around you for cover. You only realized San had pulled up when the rain stopped and you heard him fussing over you.

“You’re gonna catch a cold, sitting out in the rain like this. Come get in the car.”

You let San basically manhandle you into his car, realizing that you were about to get in his expensive Italian sports car sopping wet.

“Sorry, send me you upholstery bill.”

“One, no. Two, you can’t afford it. Three, the leather was getting kinda worn anyway. Do you want to tell me why you were at the police station?” he prompted.

You just shook your head, gazing out the window.

“Later. Just take me home please.”

You zone out as San drives, watching raindrops slide down the car window.

“Y/N, we’re here.” San said, snapping you out of a daze.

“Will you come up with me? I don’t want to be alone right now.” you ask.

“Of course.”

San parks his car in your spot, and follows you up to your apartment. Noodles comes trotting out when you open the door, avoiding you when he sees that you’re wet and rubbing uo against San instead.

“Go take a shower, put on some dry clothes. Should I order food?” San asks, scooping Noodles up in his arms.

You don’t want to eat, but you say yes anyway. You leave San to his own devices in the living room and go to take a shower. Maybe you’re crying again, but there’s no way to be sure. You end up standing under the hot water for nearly an hour. When the food he ordered arrives, San knocks on your bathroom door, letting you know that you should get out and eat while the food is hot.

You towel off and get dressed in pajamas, trudging back out to the kitchen, San is sitting at your island with a large pizza in front of him. You sit down next to him and take a slice, chewing slowly. It’s good pizza. You say as much. When you finish, San puts away the box and stands infront of you, cupping your face in his hands.

“Do you want to keep processing, or do you want me to distract you?” he asks, looking into your eyes.

You answer without even thinking, wanting to stop feeling so awful.

“Distract me, please.”

San smiles sadly, bringing your faces together and connecting your lips gently. You’re trembling a little, and San feels solid and real pressed against you.

“I’m sorry.” he says.

“It’s not your fault.” you mumble.

San doesn’t reply, just kisses you again, and again, and again.

#ateez #san #ateez san #choi san #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #san x reader #san fanfic #san imagines #san scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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bo0zey · 5 years ago

Note

Pick your favorite questions from the list.

i will do them all for u 0.o

1. Name cianna [see-ah-nah]

2. Nationality mexican irish german romanian hungarian french

3. Age 20

4. Birthday december 17, 1999

5. Zodiac sign (or your primal zodiac sign) sun: sagittarius; ascendant: leo; moon: aries

6. Gender female

7. Sexuality uhhhhhhhhhhhh idk but i will willingly kiss either gender

8. Your looks (add a picture or describe yourself) /tagged/my-face or u could just google pictures of fat rats

9. What do you/did you study? I’m currently a sophomore nursing major!

10. What's your current job like?/What job would you like to have? I’m currently a microbiology TA and I love it :) My dream job would be something with animals, like a vet tech or veterinarian

11. Your birth order i’m the oldest!

12. How many siblings do you have? 2 younger brothers

13. Do you have good relations with your family? my mom was my best friend, my dad and i get along better now that i’m in college, my brothers and i get along pretty well & we’re staring to get closer now that they’re getting older n growing up n developing their own personalities lol

14. How many friends do you have? errrr idk this is a hard question. i have a lot of acquaintances but i’d say i have maybe like less than 10 real friends??

15. Your relationship status single :D

16. What do you look for in a SO? funny!!!!!!!!!must be humorous!!!!and sarcastic and a little weird w darker sense of humor so we can laugh n be dumb together!!!!!!! also i would like them to be kind to me and those around them bc mean ppl suck. also they have to like animals. also i would like them to be loyal and trustworthy and 110% in love w me. and for physical stuff idk kinda attractive but NOT CONVENTIONALLY ATTRACTIVE like i personally don't really like the typically ‘attractive’ person???

17. Do you have a crush? currently in love w the cute chinese boy who lives across from my dorm room even tho i have never even spoken to him n he is totally unaware of my existence!!!!!!!! hahah oops :D

18. When did you have your first kiss? i mean technically 3rd grade i think but that doesn't really count so like maybe 16????

19. Do you prefer serious and meaningful relationships or casual dating/one night stands? i mean in the long term i would definitely like to have a serious relationship but at the moment i’m only into casual stuff bc my heart isn't ready to be broken again sknfkjdbnkjd

20. What are your deal breakers? errrr i’m not sure....cheating is a no no, ppl that are interested in fucking every single person they see is a turn off, DUMB PEOPLE like ppl you can't even have a proper conversation with bc they're so DUMB, and ppl who r mean/judgmental/arrogant

21. How was your day? ok! accidentally slept thru my math class but caught a glimpse of my crush across campus when he was abt to smoke a cig and i got chipotle n i online shopped a ton from shein

22. Favourite food & drink deep dish spinach pizza from giordano’s & orange vitamin water

23. What position do you sleep in? i fall asleep on my left side hugging a body pillow

24. What was your last dream about? ate a braid of hair and inside the braid was bacon

25. Your fears not going to make it thru nursing school, not being financially stable as an adult, not having a family of my own, probably more but those r currently top 3

26. Your dreams i don't have any idk....maybe having like a house of my own and having as many animals as i want?? and i would like a loving partner with a daughter of our own

27. Your goals survive nursing school and lose 40 pounds and don't die before my cat

28. Any pets? i have a dog named cherry Cola, a cat named Leto, and a betta fish named Perc

29. What are your hobbies? writing stories about people in love, listening to music

30. Any cool places in your area? in my college town??? NO it sucks. in my hometown??? Not really it’s a small lil village with only restaurants and parks. but at home i’m near downtown chicago so that’s cool i guess

31. What was your last awkward situation? the first thing that comes to mind is my FIRST and so far ONLY encounter with my crush. we live in the same dorm building and i was wearing my nursing scrubs and had no make up on and about to go upstairs to my dorm, and then i heard footsteps and i was like ‘hahaha what if its my crush’ AND THEN HE FUCKIGJNG appeared from down the hallway to go back to HIS DORM [which is RIGHT ACROSS FROM MINE] and i literally STARED at him, then threw open the door and RAN UP THE STAIRS LIKE I LITERALLY DIDNT EVEN HOLD THE DOOR OPEN FOR ME AND HE WAS LIKE SO CLOSE BEHIND ME I WAS JUST SO NERVOUS MY FLIGHT OR FIGHT RESPONSE TOOK OVER AND I FUCKING FLED I LITERALLY RAN AWAY FROM HIM I AHTE MYSELF SO MUCH IM SUCH AN IDIOT!!!!!!!!!

32. What is your last regret? errrrr idk i regret a lot of dumb things.......

33. Language/s you can speak English n a LITTLE bit of Spanish

34. Do you believe in astrological stuff? (Zodiac, tarot, etc.) i’m really into zodiac stuff and i have got to say they are pretty spot on in accuracy idk

35. Have any quirks? ummmm ofc!!i am the quirkiest person i know hajnjfxbkjx like if u asked my roommates/friends they’d probably be better at answering this than me bc i don't see anything abt me as quirky but they always tell me i am quirky and do weird things but idk man I'm just existing

36. Your pet peeves err idk currently its ppl that constantly brag about dumb shit

37. Ideal vacation somewhere warm with me + the ocean + the loml + unlimited alcohol

38. Any scars? yeah :D both emotional AND physical!!!!

39. What does your last text message say? ‘ok thats a more than fair statement’

40. Last 5 things from your search history how many carbs should i eat, chipotle bowl calories, is the grim reaper the angel of death, ceftriaxone adverse effects, red man syndrome

41. What's your [device] background? lockscreen is a peach-theme background i made and home screen is my weight loss goals

42. What do you daydream about? the characters in my stories.................and being skinny

43. Describe your dream home pretty brick house??? flowers outside??? 3 floors--main floor, basement and upstairs??? 3 bedrooms n 3 bathrooms maybe??? master bedroom has its own bathroom!!! and open concept main floor. big kitchen and very homey n warm all around. as for like an apartment i want something cozy and aesthetically pleasing and warm

44. What's your religion/Your thought about religion i don't have a religion but if ppl do have a religion then thats not my business

45. Your personality type entj but only bc i got 3% extraverted; i am very closely related to intj tho n i think i fit that one better

46. The most dangerous thing you've done uhhhhhh probably operating a vehicle while high out of my mind. definitely the dumbest thing i ever did 0/10 would recommend anyone ever doing that

47. Are you happy with your current life? its ok but it could probably be better. i want to be done w college and skip to the part where i have a successful career and my own home and i can lay up w the loml every night

48. Some things you've tried in your life alcohol???weed??gummy edibles....

49. What does your wardrobe consist of? sweaters/sweatshirts/leggings

50. Favourite colour to wear? black, maroon, peach, purple, gray, idk

51. How would you describe your style? oh jeez idk i wear whatever i want so like e-girl when i really try and basic white girl when i don't care

52. Are you happy with your current looks? no i hate everything about myself lol

53. If you could change/add something to your appearance - impossible or not - what would it be? more freckles on my face....also be thinner n have longer hair

54. Any tattoos or piercings? my nose and septum are pierced!

55. Do you get complimented often? kinda by my friends but i always yell at them to stop so they don't compliment like as much bc they know i hate it but they still do it sometimes idk

56. Favourite aesthetic? i wanna be an e-girl yo!!!!!!!!!

57. A popular trend that you dislike nobody has a crush on me and i hate it

58. Songs you're currently obsessed with? pied piper by BTS

59. Song you normally wouldn't admit you like. anything by BTS lol i used to like be embarrassed for how much i like k pop but now i don't really care lol #stanBTS2020

60. Favourite genre? rap/r n b/alternative

61. Favourite artist/band/genre? i listen to every genre except country sooooooo yeah i really like billie eilish, BTS, the weeknd, juicewrld, lil nas x, trippie red, post malone,

62. Hated popular songs/artists? i don't rlly like selena gomez or justin bieber or taylor swift

63. Put your music on shuffle and list first 5 only - RY X i.f.l.y. - Bazzi novacane - frank ocean jungle - drake bang! - trippie redd

64. Can you sing or play any instruments? no and no

65. Do you like karaoke? no but i like to sing along to songs when I'm alone

66. Own any albums? haha noooo i got apple music son

67. Do you listen to radio? What stations? errr RARELY i used to listen to r n b stations tho

68. Favourite movie/series? idk donnie darko?? i also just finished tharntype n that was really good. also i liked tokyo ghoul. AND GIVEN IS REALLY GOOD

69. Favourite genre of movies/books/etc i like horror/scary/paranormal/funny movies and i like love stories in books

70. Your fictional crush/es danny phantom, ken kaneki

71. Which fictional character is you? uhhhh idk...

72. Are you a shipper? List your otps, if so frerard, ryden, taekook, mewgulf

73. Favourite greek god? idk they all kinda suck but maybe hades

74. A legend from where you live that you like i don't really know any:(

75. Do you like art? What's your favourite work or artist? i like to look at art! i think van gogh is cool

76. Can you share your other social media? ig: ciannnna venmo: ciannnna

77. Favourite youtubers? i don't really watch youtubers but maybe shane dawson and emma chamberlain

78. Favourite platform? twitter

79. How much time do you spend on the internet? too much time

80. What video games have you played? Which one's your favourite? i once played GTA5 that was fun!

81. Your favourite books (manga also counts) idk i don't really read anymore:/ i was into the hunger games and the twilight series when i was young. now i kinda read online manga and i really liked BJ Alex and killing stalking. and like for online books the unholyverse series, a splitting of the mind, the anatomy of a fall

82. Do you play board/card games? no but i like to play checkers and uno and cards against humanity

83. Have you ever been to a night marathon in cinema? nopee

84. Favourite holiday halloween is cool also christmas is alright bc gifts

85. Are you into dramas? i’ve been getting into thai boys love dramas lol sue me

86. Would you use death note, if you had one? um YES.

87. What changes would you make in the world, no matter how impossible, if you had the power to? everyone needs to be a little kinder and have a crush on me

88. Could you survive a zombie apocalypse? absolutely not I'm not physically fit and don't have useful skills

89. If you had to be turned into a paranormal being, what would it be? vampire duh [or maybe ghost]

90. What would you want to happen to you after your death? i want to see my mom

91. If you had to change your name, what would be your pick? idk something cool ... i love the name Daisy

92. Who would you switch your life with for a week? idk probably kylie jenner

93. Pick an emoji to be your tattoo idk the alien? 94. Write 3 things about yourself - only one of them must be true -im very productive with my time management skills -my favorite color is purple -i don't get nervous when I'm alone in public

95. Cold or hot? cold

96. Be a hero or be a villain? anti-hero

97. Sing everything you want to say or rhyme? sing if i’m good at it but if I'm not good then rhyme

98. Shapeshifting or controlling time? shapeshifting

99. Be immortal or be immune to everything aside from natural death?immortal

100. ..... or .....? ......?

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yzngserpent · 6 years ago

Text

Sweet Pea x (Male!) Reader

Prompt: a little while ago I wrote a two part series called behind closed doors that was inspired by a post I read. I got asked if I was going to do a part 3 so here it is! If you want to read the other parts first (I recommend you do) they’re a little way down my page.

A/N: ok so this turned out to be way longer than I expected. hope you like it! @serpentscvm im definitely doing a part 4.

Warnings: violence, profanity, lite smut.

Sunny Side trailer park was lit from top to toe and full of teenage serpents who had all gathered together for a saturday night party. You were sitting contently on one of the many lawn chairs with a beer in your hand and Toni chatting away next to you. Sweet Pea and Fangs were standing together surrounded by a few other serpents, all talking and shouting loudly. (gif 1) It had been a few days since Sweet Pea took you on your first date, and you two had made it official.

You hadn’t told anyone yet, you thought to yourself how you liked your privacy and that people would find out when the time was right. But you didn’t know that in a few seconds, that would be the said time. just as you were about to reply to one of Toni’s questions, Sweet Pea’s familiar shout of anger interrupted your conversation and your head snapped around to see what was going on. Pea had swung at another teenage serpent, and now the two of them were on the ground in a fist fight. You immediately stood up and ran over, adrenaline pumping through your body.

“Sweets, stop!” you shouted, a few people turning to look at you in bafflement as his nick name slipped from your lips. Fangs retracted from trying to pull his friend away, his actions clearly useless against yours but Pea didn’t listen to you. instead he straddled the boy’s chest and began to lay hard and nasty punches to his face. The look in Pea’s eyes was ferocious and it even scared you a little bit to the point where your body went into shock. but your senses soon kicked back in and you grabbed Sweet Pea’s forearm, holding onto him as hard as you could as he tried to lay his next punch. “Sweets stop, he’s out, you’re going to kill him!”

Sweet Pea sucked in a breath then turned his head to face you, his teeth bared and his cheek bleeding. you tugged on his forearm for him to get up, and as he did so FP Jones strutted over with a look of annoyance on his face. “Sweet Pea, get out of here now and go cool off!” FP shouted, pointing towards the other side of the trailer park. you tugged on his arm once again and led him towards his trailer, your heart still racing in your chest. “sweets, what the hell was that about!” you inquired once the two of you had reached a safe distance away from crowd of people.

The ferocious look in his eyes had faded now, but you could tell he was still angry by the lack of affection he was giving you. “Fucking Fangs asked me about you, then before I could even reply that idiot asked if me and you were together” Sweet Pea ran a hand through his hair frustratedly as he continued to speak, “I said yes, then after that he started calling us names... I couldn’t handle it, I didn’t care about me,” Sweet Pea looked up at you, this time his eyes sad, (gif 2) “but it was when he said your name that I lost it”

You stood there with your mouth open and your eyes wide. one: Pea had told Fangs about you and him, two: now probably everyone knew, and three: you were trying to be annoyed at Pea for telling your personal business but somehow you couldn’t. It made you swoon how protective he was of you, and Fangs was his best friend after all. “(Y/N) say something” Sweet Pea pleaded as he took a step closer to you. You had been standing there for almost a minute in silence with your mouth open in shock, but you quickly snapped it shut then looked at your boyfriend with loving eyes.

“You can’t let people like that make you angry, I know it’s easier said than done but... sweets you could have killed him” you argued slightly, hating seeing him hurt. his right under eye was already beginning to bruise and his knuckles were now sliced open with blood slowly seeping down his fingers. “so? I’m a serpent (Y/N) I would have killed him, I wanted to” Pea replied with a growl, his eyebrows furrowing together in a frown. you couldn’t believe the words that had just come out of his mouth, you were a serpent to but you would never kill someone intentionally. “Sweet Pea don’t even say that!” he flinched at his full name coming out of your mouth, you hadn’t called him that since that steamy night in the truck.

“why the hell not? It’s true!” he yelled back, his hot head getting the best of him. he was now trying to tower you, but being the same height as him was not working in his favour at the moment. “because you can’t go around saying that, you’re a serpent and if the wrong person heard you...” “oh please! do you really think a fucking northsider could take me down? don’t be stupid.” Sweet Pea scoffed, his eyes staring daggers at you. you were from the northside, and his attitude right now was to much. you folded your arms across your chest and glared at him. “you seem to forget that I am from the northside, so yeah a ‘fucking northsider’ has already taken you down, think about that later on when you’re alone.” you snapped, turning around on your heel and walking off towards your house. “fine, I will! run off back to the northside!” Pea yelled after you, causing you to turn around and pull the middle finger as you continued on to the bridge.

It was true, you were a northsider. until your dad decided to run off leaving you and your mum to fend for yourselves. you and your mum stayed with Archie and Fred for a few weeks but it got to much, and you ended up becoming close with Jughead again. that was when you and your mum had to make the move to the southside as it was all she could afford. but it had felt more like home than the northside ever did and you’d loved it until now. you and Sweet Pea were so fresh into the relationship that it made you sad you two had had your first argument over something so stupid. you missed your stuttering boy in your bedroom at 3 am. but right now his temper was getting the best of him and you didn’t want to be around that. your heart began to ache in your chest as you already began to miss him.

• • •

your phone vibrated loudly under your pillow, waking you up from your half asleep state. you rubbed your eyes with a yawn, then as all the events of that night came rushing back into your mind you felt that annoying tingle of sadness in your chest. you looked towards your window expecting it to be morning but it was still pitch black outside. your phone vibrated again, and as you looked at the new text message that lit up your screen your heart sped up a little.

please talk 2 me

the last message of ten read. Sweet Pea had texted you many times before that, all asking where you were and if you were okay. you unlocked your phone and began typing back.

what do you want?

you pressed send and dropped the phone onto your bed. all you wanted was him right now but you were still upset at the way he had spoken to you. ‘ding’

you... where are u?

you smiled down at your phone screen.

I’m at home

I’m comin

at his last text message you shot up out of bed and tried to freshen yourself up. you sprayed on some cologne, pulled on your jeans and a shirt and tried your best to tidy your crazy bed hair. ‘ding’

open ur window

you hurried over to your window and slid it open as quietly as you could. Sweet Pea began to climb, and once he was in your room he stood still and stared at you with puppy eyes, making your heart ache for him. “don’t look at me like that” you whispered, frustrated he was making you cave. Sweet Pea whined and walked over to your bed, sitting down with a loud thump. “I’m sorry... I can’t... control my emotions sometimes and you...” Sweet Pea rubbed at his face, his knuckles now taped up and the first thought that popped into your head was Toni. “you make me feel all these... feelings and I feel...” Pea looked up at you. “I feel like I’m going insane”

his face was sad but his eyes were full of passion, causing arousal and excitement to swirl around in your body. but you wanted to keep your cool for now. “insane?” you inquired, leaning your bottom against the dresser. “yes, like nuthouse insane... I’ve never felt like this b-before, fuck!” Sweet Pea stood up half in embarrassment, half in frustration. he went to knock his fist into your wall but before he could you reached forward and grabbed his forearm, whisper shouting at him to be quiet. “calm down, it’s okay” Sweet Pea looked at you sideways with his jaw clenched. you couldn’t keep your cool anymore, you wanted to hold him again, comfort him from all his worries.

you tugged him against you and wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “sweets it’s okay, I understand what you mean with your emotions, and I feel the same to” he gratefully wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. “you can’t handle your emotions either?” you couldn’t help but chuckle against him. “I was more meaning the ‘going insane’ part, I really, really like you” you half whispered, nervous at what he would say next. “you sure?” he asked, pulling back to look you in the eye. you nodded, a smirk beginning to form on your lips. “want me to show you?” you said as seductively as you could.

Sweet Pea’s pupils dilated bigger and he nodded his head, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. you ran your hands slowly down his neck, then pushed his serpent jacket off his shoulders, revealing his faded plaid shirt. your fingers went to work on the buttons and as you undid the last button, he ripped his shirt off himself and hooked his fingers around the loops of your jeans, pulling you against him. you gasped in delight as his torso was fully on show, and boy did he look good. his dog tags clanged against his chest as he pulled your own shirt over your head, causing your hair to stick up in all different directions. he then leaned down to kiss you, but you turned your head in denial.

“It’s my turn to show you, remember?” you whispered, your lips moving to his neck. Pea nodded then tilted his head to the side and you left slow, open mouthed kisses all the way up his neck until you reached his serpent tattoo, your tongue outlining the faded green snake on his neck. Sweet Pea moaned loudly, his hands squeezing your hips. you pulled away slightly, locked your eyes with his in a lustful stare off, then slowly got down on your knees, causing his eyes to widen in excitement. “remember to be quiet” you whispered, your hands moving to unpop the button on his tented jeans. Sweet Pea bit his bottom lip, watching you with every sense in his body.

his jeans and boxers hit the floor quietly and you wasted no time in taking him in your mouth. you lapped your tongue up his shaft then swirled it around his tip, causing him to throw his head back in pleasure. you sucking him off like this turned him on so much, that he thought he might cum to quickly. his cock throbbed in arousal and his hands moved into your hair as he refrained from pushing himself deeper into your mouth. Sweet Pea looked at you, his eyes glazed over in lust. as sexy as you looked down there pleasing him, all he wanted was to feel you against him again. his heart ached and his hands throbbed to touch you. “(Y/N)” he whispered breathlessly, causing you to look up at him. he grabbed you by your shoulders and pulled you onto your feet, his lips colliding with yours in a heated kiss.

his tongue pushed its way into your mouth and you groaned against his lips, your own cock throbbing with need against your tight jeans. “let me show you now” he whispered, his usual brown eyes almost black in color. a hint of excitement shot through your chest as you decided you weren’t going to make it easy for him. he may be cute, he may have confessed his feelings for you all over again and made you swoon, but the way he talked to you earlier was unacceptable and he needed to be taught a lesson. you pulled away slowly and began to fake yawn. “hmm, but I’m just a stupid northsider” you hummed, smirking at him. Sweet Pea clenched his jaw together and for a moment you thought he was going to spiral into another anger fit, but instead he smirked to, his eyes reading sex.

“you were once,” he began, then his eyes moved to your serpent jacket hanging on the back of your closed door. “but now?” he placed his hand on the side of your face, his dark eyes reconnecting with yours. “now you’re my southside boy” your insides melted and you bit your bottom lip, completely enveloped with the tall boy in front of you. Sweet Pea ran his thumb along your cheek, his smirk making you weak in the knees. ‘fuck this’ you thought to yourself in your head before you pressed your lips against his firmly, not caring about the way he spoke to you before, all you wanted now was to feel every inch of him and that’s what you would get.

#sweet pea smut #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea one shot #sweet pea #riverdale #riverdale imagines #x reader #sweet pea x reader #male x male #southside serpents #fp jones #jughead jones #betty cooper #archie andrews #toni topaz #imagines #fangs fogarty #lgbtq

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ninzied · 6 years ago

Text

another kind of goodbye

for @carry-the-sky. happy birthday, my friend! have a little post-cancellation kastle fic.

It’s three months, give or take, when Frank lets himself think about her again. Really think about her. Not in the passing kind of way, where he’s walking down some street and sees a bouquet of gardenias, like the kind he’d almost gotten her instead of the roses that day. Or when he’s sipping on coffee, and Karen’s face flashes like a mirage at him across the cheap Formica table – blonde hair almost white under the shit diner lighting, but those eyes still so blue as she told him he would never lie to her.

So – okay, so he thinks about her. He thinks about her.

(He wonders if she—)

Frank eventually makes his way back to the city again, after. Another day, another job. Madani thinks he’s meant for something greater than this – than picking off these scum-of-the-earth kinds of assholes that litter the streets of a place like New York.

He can’t believe that he was meant for greater, but. Sometimes, he does wonder. If a part of him – whatever part of him that’s not still buried deep down in the ground with his family – was meant to come back here. To walk these streets and feel the pull of her, always, even when that’s all he can afford to feel.

He tells himself that has to be enough.

He’s been laying low, since his return. Coughed up some cash for a three-hundred-square-footer in Brooklyn, but he crosses the bridge to the city most days, maybe even finds his way to Hell’s Kitchen from time to time too. It’s risky, he knows. If Murdock catches wind of him, they’d be lucky to walk away from each other in one piece. And Karen…

There’d be a different kind of hell to pay, if Karen ever found out.

His phone gives a single buzz in his pocket as he’s hunkering his way down 47th, and he stops in his tracks, nearly colliding with an elderly woman in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Excuse me!” she says in a shrill voice, bag clutched tight to her chest.

“Apologies, ma’am,” he nods as she makes a show of putting as much distance between them as possible, and then he fishes his phone out, hesitating for one absurd moment before glancing down at the screen.

Back in town yet, Castle?

He barks out a laugh. Chrissakes, Madani.

His phone buzzes again.

I have a job for you, if you’re still interested.

“Still,” mutters Frank, with a scoffing shake of his head. He thinks he admires her perseverance, but Madani’s gotta know she’s only wasting her breath.

He cuts south down 10th, toward Lincoln Tunnel. It’s a brisk day, and the wind on his face feels sharper than usual, considering he hasn’t bled much there in a while. He jams his hands deeper into his pockets, ignoring the insistent drone of Madani’s follow-up call.

He’s got a date with a park bench on the wrong side of town, and if he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s the same bridge overlooking the water, and when he opens them again Karen’ll be there, waiting for him.

…

His closest call comes with, of all people, the lawyer. Not Red – the other one. Franklin Nelson.

Frank’s emerging with coffee two storefronts down just as another door opens, and he’s cursing himself for not seeing the signs when out tumbles Nelson with his back turned, adjusting his tie against the wind.

“Foggy bear, wait!” someone else is laughing, and a blonde lady steps out to chase after him, slinging a purse over her shoulder and reaching with her other hand to link around his elbow.

“I told him this was gonna make me late for work,” grumbles Nelson, but without any heat to the words. “Dad’s surprise party isn’t until tomorrow, don’t know why this couldn’t have waited – oh, crap, I forgot I told Karen I’d pick up some coffee—”

Nelson’s about-facing sharply, girlfriend following closely behind. He doesn’t appear to notice Frank crouched down in a corner by the 7-Eleven, hood obscuring half his face as he trains his eyes on the ground by their feet. The girl unearths some coins from her bag as they pass, clinking them onto the lid of Frank’s coffee cup without seeming to hear his low mutter of thanks.

He’s leapt up the moment he hears the door latch shut, brushing the coins into his palm as he goes.

He leaves them with a guy camped out by the train stop, a dog lifting her head from their blankets to blink sleepy eyes up at Frank, and he walks away harder, takes the steps two at a time and wishes – God he wishes—

…

Another text from Madani.

He shuts his phone off. Goes back to retrieve it ten seconds later from the trash can that he’d dumped it in, wiping it down and scowling as her message pops up on the screen.

Castle – offer still stands, FYI.

“You should call her back,” advises a man huddled down by the newsstands next to him. His face is like leather, worn down and weathered with age, with living. “Apologize for whatever it is that you did, so you don’t end up out here like me.”

“Already there,” Frank tells him, turning the phone over and over in his hand. Madani’s message lights up again each time, flashing and flashing until he sees it like a burn through his retinas even when the phone’s no longer facing him.

“Damn. That’s a damn shame.” The guy shifts, scratching at a spot on his back. “Maybe shouldn’t’ve stayed away from her for so long.”

Frank shakes his head, uttering a short, incredulous laugh. “Well, maybe I got my reasons, yeah? You think about that?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” shrugs the guy. “Does she think they’re any good? These reasons of yours?”

Frank turns away, jaw working furiously.

“Yeah.” The guy shouldn’t have any right to sound as smug as he does, and yet. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

…

He’s got no place in coming here. He knows it. He knows it, but he thinks it was always meant to be this way, him circling back around to her, even after everything that he’s done to push her away. Maybe a part of him had never left. And the rest is just – there, hovering right at the edge of some sharp realization, that he could try to be whole again if he simply took that first step. And a part of Karen must at least sense that. It’s why she’d never really given up on him, before.

It doesn’t change how I feel about you.

Frank wonders if she’d forgive him this time. If he’d even want her to.

It wouldn’t be anything close to what he deserves, that’s for goddamn sure.

He gazes up at her fire escape, counts the number of steps it would take just to be able to reach that bottom rung from his vantage point across the street. Her shades are drawn, the lines of them blurred out in the dim orange light. On one corner of the windowsill, wedged up against the glass, there’s a small stack of books. On the other, a vase. From this angle, the shadows folded into the fabric of her curtains look almost like flower stems.

Frank squints, and the stems disappear.

…

There’s about a week in between, where he feels himself inching closer to something, each time he drops by her block. He never goes farther than the patch of sidewalk across from her building, but it’s getting harder not to just careen over the ledge.

More than anything, he wishes he knew, in those moments obscured in half-darkness, whether he’s come to look for that after she’d spoke of, or if he’s come to say goodbye.

Then, one day he spots flowers in her window, for the first time since—

(They’re pale white against the cream of her curtains, their stems dark slivers of green, and he imagines them pricking the pad of his thumb, drawing up a spot of blood.)

Frank takes a deep breath.

…

She doesn’t look surprised to see him when she opens the door, swinging it back two-thirds of the way before stopping. Her lips are pressed tightly together, like there’s too much to say, or maybe there’s things that she can’t, either way he can’t read her and he thinks she’s never terrified him more.

Frank drops his gaze, mouth moving soundlessly until the words grind their way out. “How’d you know I was here, Karen?”

He’s not sure what kind of answer he’s expecting. That Nelson had grown a real pair of eyes, or that Red had managed to ferret him out of his lurking somehow. Or maybe Karen really just hadn’t known at all, and those flowers were never for him.

What Karen says instead is, “Dinah and I grab a beer together, sometimes.”

“That right?” he asks, trying to lay out an image of this in his mind. It sits strangely there, stumping him for a moment, and some of his bewilderment must show on his face because Karen’s mouth almost turns up in a smile before flattening again.

She leans away from the doorjamb, waving her hand in a worn-looking gesture before letting it drop to her side. “Besides, you…haven’t exactly been subtle, in your haunting of Hell’s Kitchen.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, other than a gruff, “’S’what dead men do, Karen,” as she folds her arms and sighs at him.

“You sure you’re not just losing your touch, Frank?” She steps into the doorway, whether to move closer to him or to block him out of her apartment, he can’t tell. “Or was it because you wanted me to know but couldn’t tell me to my face?”

His eyes snap up to hers, twitching slightly under the sharp weight of her gaze. He shakes his head, wishing he could just ask her, What do you want from me, Karen? but they’re long past that now, and if he can’t find his own way to answer her, then.

God, he really doesn’t deserve this woman.

“I think I—” He shifts his body and tries again. “I think I needed to figure some things out. Karen. I was waiting 'til I felt like I was ready, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that.” But I’m here, he wants to say, but I’m here.

“Yeah.” Karen’s nodding, hair falling into her face, and she brushes it back, resting her chin in her palm for a moment. “I know that, Frank.” All of the fight in her seems to have ebbed slowly back, and he resists the urge to reach out and shake the storm back into motion, to make her understand she doesn’t get to let him off the hook so easy.

The look she gives him now is softer, but he knows. Fight’s not done. May never be done. And he knows this because he knows he’ll never stop fighting for her.

She’s stepped back into the door, letting it swing open further. She doesn’t invite him in, but she’s quirked an eyebrow up at him, biting her lip with another deep sigh and a shake of her head.

“You, uh.” Frank glances back and forth at their surroundings, doesn’t quite meet her eye. Tries to lighten his tone through the gruffness as he asks her, “So, you wanted to see me?”

Her voice is soft, forbearing, with a hint of gentle knowing behind it. “You didn’t?”

She’s holding back the clear start of a smile from him this time, and Frank. Christ. It’s taking everything in him not to step toward her, to—

Karen tilts her chin at him, the motion loosening another wave of blonde hair, and he can’t remember anymore why he was trying so hard to stand back from all this. He’s moving, swaying forward until she’s just an arm’s length away, and there’s something almost teasing about the way she relaxes her shoulder into the door as she watches him.

“You back to kill some people, Frank?”

He feels a corner of his mouth turn up. This girl. He licks his lips, lets out a quiet sort of laugh. “That was the plan, yeah.”

Karen gazes up at him, unblinking. “Have you?”

“I was—” Frank has to look away for a moment, finally turning back when he can. His eyes are steady, boring into hers, voice low and full with meaning. “I was. Working on it.”

Karen nods. Doesn’t speak for long seconds, and he measures them out in heartbeats, chest tightening hard enough it feels like it might break when she asks him, very carefully, “Still?”

Frank steps closer, close enough to feel the way her breath shakes with a small sigh, how her body moves away from the door to meet him.

His hand is inches from hers, but he doesn’t reach for her. Not yet.

She waits, gaze searching. He gives the barest shake of his head, and a single word, gravel-filled, a promise. “No.”

Something cracks open in her expression, and it means everything to him, her head ducking away as though she can’t have him looking too closely at the way she's biting back that smile of hers, and he thinks – he thinks he wants to make her do it again, and again, for as long as she will have him.

“Would you like to come in, Frank?”

He takes her hand in his this time, feeling the pull of her as he steps across the threshold, door shutting firmly behind them, and it feels like coming home.

#kastle #kastleff #kastle ff #kastlenetwork #kastledaily #happy belated birthday haley!!!!!!#sorry for the unpolishedness #i may go back and edit it up a bit later lol #but i wanted to have something for you because you've been so lovely and welcoming!#i can't thank you enough!

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colonel-insomniac · 5 years ago

Text

I’ve Got a Crush on You

read on ao3

Bobby was at a family reunion and he was so bored. This time, the reunion was at his grandmother’s house, and it isn’t that Bobby was without WiFi, it was merely that he had no one to really talk to. He could talk to his relatives, but they all talk to him like he doesn’t even have a brain just because he decided he’d rather continue working as a fry cook in a “grease generator” as they like to call the Krustie Krabbe.

But he loved being there, at the Krustie Krabbe it was like he was finally who he was meant to be. Well, mostly. Maybe when Mr Krabbes sees him as the adult—albeit young adult—that he is, maybe he’ll finally get the recognition that he deserves. His friends were the only ones who talked to him like he was an equal, even Sandy, even though he couldn’t understand half of her science jargon.

And he craved one of those weird conversations with his best friend. But though his parents considered Patrick Starr family, Bobby’s family was insistent that only real Porous family members were allowed to join. So, he’d said his farewell to Patrick, who still wanted to get in the car with Bobby, and drove the hour and forty-five minute journey to his grandmother’s house.

He could faintly hear the soft jazz music drifting from the living room. He was alone at the moment, sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen, tapping his fingers on the kitchen as he laid on his other arm. Patrick said he had to go run some errands an hour ago, and Bobby’s been waiting for Pat to get back.

Bobby had already scrolled through his Instagram feed, his Snapchat, his Tumblr, heck, even his Twitter, which he barely ever uses. So now he's just kind of doing nothing, watching the black phone screen, willing Patrick to finally come back.

But Bobby's been thinking in the time that he's had to do nothing. He's liked Patrick for a while now, and since there's nothing to entertain himself, he'll have to get creative.

He's gonna song-lyric-prank Pat. Which is so 2018 in his opinion but maybe it'll be fun. He's gonna use something that Patrick should recognize, a Frank Sinatra song, specifically, I've Got A Crush on You.

Now sitting up, Bobby grabs his phone and taps on Pat's message thread.

Patrick takes a couple minutes to respond, and Bobby can almost see Pat try to understand what's going on, if the little "read" text underneath Bobby's message is anything to go on.

Then the three dots pop up—

<PraisePink: uh im confused, grls r going after u???>

Bobby smiles, tapping out the next chunk of lyrics.

Bobby knows he has Pat's attention now, if the immediate typing is proof. Bobby decides now he isn't so bored anymore.

<PraisePink: im still not gettin it bud>

He knows that that message makes it sound as though maybe Bobby's hit his head a little too hard. Bobby glances around the room, just to check that no one's watching as he smiles at his phone.

<PraisePink: r u ok>

<PraisePink: u rn't concussed?>

Bobby sends a quick 'nope' before moving along with the next lyric. This time, Bobby can't help blushing even though it isn't anything bad.

And yeah, so Bobby's adding a couple words into the lyrics, but it's only 'cause he wants it to last long enough for it to be fun.

As the three dots appear again, Bobby leans in unintentionally, waiting excitedly to see what Pat's response will be. When he's sure Pat's almost done typing, his phone is suddenly gone, snatched out of his hands.

Bobby looks up, bewildered. Then he spots his cousin Jack, or as they sometimes call him, Cousin BlackJack, an allusion to the numerous black eyes Jack has had through his adolescent years. Jack and Bobby are pretty similar in height, but whereas Jack is buff and muscular, Bobby isn't.

"Jack," Bobby pleads, "give me back my phone. That isn't funny." He reaches for the device but Jack pulls it behind his back.

"Uh-uh," Jack smirks, "let's see what you're up to that's keeping you from spending actual time with the family." Bobby blanches. "Jack, no. That's not fair. You know family is everything, I'm just talking to Patrick."

"Well, let's take a look, then." Bobby knows nothing he says will stop Jack, so he shuts his mouth and prays Jack won't tray and make an issue out of the situation.

The evil glint in his cousins eye grew as he scrolled through the messages. "Oh this is pure gold." Jack chuckles, glancing at Bobby. "I wonder what'll happen if the family finds out."

"No Jack, stop. I'm not messing around with you. Don't do this."

Jack shrugs. "Nothin' I can do, cuz'." Jack glances at the phone again. "Jeez, this guy must be smitten with you Bobby, he's blowin' up your phone now."

Bobby blushes and inwardly curses himself with words he'd never say out loud. This darned joke and his stupid boredom. He should've just waited until after the reunion to do this.

"Tell you what, Robert," Jack smirks at Bobby, "tell me the next line, I wanna see what happens."

Bobby sighs, tapping the counter. He knows he has to go along with this, maybe Jack will get bored and give up.

"It's 'it's not that you're attractive, but oh, my heart grew active, when you came into view." Jack laughs, a mean one note 'ha'. "This is absolutely priceless, Bobby." Bobby’s eyes stung with tears, and he slid off his chair, garnering the attention of his cousin, who sighed heavily.

“Bobby, you never let me have fun with these things. I’m not even being mean! Our relatives are all wondering where you are and why you’re all alone. This is just payback for me sticking my neck out for you.” Bobby thinks somehow this doesn’t make sense, Jack makes sure never to jeopardize himself, opting to throw others under the bus. Somehow, Bobby knows what he’s saying isn’t true.

But Bobby also knows himself, and he knows there’s a small chance that Jack isn’t lying, so he walks over to Jack’s side so he can at least see what’s going on.

<PraisePink: sponge, ur kinda small, not big ;p>

<PraisePink: ok that 1st part kinda hurt :,C >

<PraisePink: whats going on tho>

Bobby bit back a grin at his friends statements, trying to put on his best poker face. “Bobby this guy’s smitten with you.” Jack exclaims incredulously.

“No he isn’t, Jack, there isn’t even anything to suggest that. You’re just going crazy.” Bobby stammers his response, a little nervous that Jack could be right.

“Kid, are you insane? This Patrick guy is literally flirting with you, and come on he’s concerned about you falling and hitting your head??” Jack does the sticking-finger-in-mouth bit to suggest his disgust at the two, and Bobby smiles.

“Well, Jack, you could always give me back my phone.” Bobby suggest, and rolls his eyes when Jack shakes his head. “Nope, I’m gonna help you.”

“Jack,” Bobby begins, “your ‘helping’ isn’t always so helpful, you know?”

“I know.” In that instant, Bobby swears Jack looks like a villain, all dark shadows cast on his face from he doesn’t even know where, and an evil grin plastered on his face.

Bobby knows he isn’t a bad cousin to Jack, so he doesn’t understand why Jack always has to pick on him, and Bobby knows that one of these days, he’s going to finally snap and finally get everyone to stop walking all over him. “C’mon, give me the next line.”

Bobby cringes “I’ve got a crush on you, sweetie pie, all the day and night-time hear me sigh.” He looks away in embarrassment when Jack laughs, “You chose the best song for this Bobby. Genius.”

“Wow, he’s really waiting for you to respond, as soon as it sent it showed that he’d seen it. He’s already typing a response.” Bobby lifts up his head at that, intirgued as to what Patrick’ll say.

<PraisePink: w8, what?>

<PraisePink: srsly????? u’ve got a crush on me???>

Bobby never expected he’d let out a sound as strangled as the one currently exiting his mouth, a mix of a groan and a scream. Perhaps a little dramatic, Bobby would drape himself on a couch if he could do so, or if he were back home, he would pack his stuff and skip town for a couple days. But now he’s stuck with facing the consequences. “And now, Bobby,” Jack pulls Bobby’s phone behind his back, raising the pointer finger on his free hand, “I must bid you adieu.”

Caught off guard, Bobby puzzles over what jack might mean by that when Jack takes off running. Ever alert, Bobby chases after him a second after.

He’s too late. In the time it took for Bobby to chase after his cousin, Jack has managed to reach the bathroom and lock it behind him. Nevertheless, Bobby thrusts his shoulder against the door, hoping the old door will just give in. No luck. Of course, what else should Bobby expect?

It’s almost as though his world is shattering around him, because he knows whatever is happening between Jack and Patrick behind that door isn’t good at all. Right as he’s about to go run looking for a Bobby pin to pick the lock, the door swings open and Jack walks out. “Give it, Jack. Now I have to fix whatever mess you’ve stirred up. Again.”

“Sure thing,” Jack replies and places the phone in Bobby’s open palm, much to his surprise. Jack just keeps walking, covering his mouth as he yawns. ‘At least his parents taught him that.’ Bobby thinks, spiteful as he aims the coldest glare he can manage at the back of Jack’s head.

Now it’s time to lock himself in the bathroom and fix the damage. His message thread with Patrick has grown a lot despite Jack not being in the bathroom long.

<PraisePink: sponge?? U still there???? r u being srs rn???>

Then, a reply from “Bobby.”

Bobby face palms. That’s doesn’t even look like his text-speak.

<PraisePink: u don’t like me like that?>

Bobby can physically feel his stomach dropping. This is it, isn’t it? This is when his whole life simply ends.

<PraisePink: oh this is a joke? Cos ur at a reunion, right>

<PraisePink: and that’s what you really think, huh?>

<PraisePink: well I don’t need you>

Bobby falls to the ground, and surprisingly, with no loud thuds. <Sunshine ☀️: Pat?>

Two minutes pass. No response. Four. No response. Bobby waits ten minutes, hopelessly, as he waits for a response. Nothing.

The little ‘read’ text pops up, so Bobby waits for an answer. Nothing happens, so he continues, desperately trying to get Pat to understand what’s happening.

Still no response.

The three gray dots pop on his screen, and it doesn’t take Patrick long to type out his response, mostly because it’s short.

<PraisePink: idk if i believe that.>

Bobby’s heart cracks as his desperation grows.

<PraisePink: idk, can u maybe give me time>

<PraisePink: i know things usually dont affect me, but im actually rlly hurt rn>

Bobby lets go of his phone, and it clatters on the floor, as he draws his knees to his chest and full on cries. Sobs—maybe that’s a better word for it. “Alright, Bobby ol’ boy, you gotta pull yourself together.” He wipes his eyes as he stands back up, a plan already forming in his head.

“I gotta leave this place, I need to get to Pat.” He pushes the door open, hurrying down the hall. Bobby’s about to make it through the front door, too, the door opens, one foot on the porch, one step closer to Patrick.

“Robert Porous!” At the sound of his first and last name, Bobby turns, stopping abruptly enough that he almost falls forward. His mom is walking towards him, and lays a hand on her son’s arm.

“Just where on Earth are you going?” She asks, “And why were you crying?”

Bobby bites his lip as he looks at his mom, “I messed up, with Pat, and I need to go make things right. Please, let me go fix this.” His mom studies his briming eyes for a moment, the wind blowing wisps of hair across her face, and ruffling the sleeves of her baby blue dress. She glances inside the house quickly, as her hand slides down, setting Bobby free.

She nods once, quickly, and steps back. “Alright. Go, go to him, but I didn’t see you leave, alright? I’ll try and keep them from saying anything.” The pair hug and Bobby’s mom steps inside again, quietly closing the door, maintaining eye contact with her son.

He hops into his car, and drives off. He finally got his license, but because he’s failed it a couple of times, he isn’t technically supposed to drive without an experienced driver for another month. But that doesn’t matter, all that matters is that he gets to Pat.

He drives back to his beach town in silence. There’s no need for music when his brain provides enough chatter to drown out everything else. He keeps his eyes trained on the road in front of him, occasionally glancing at the speedometer and side mirrors, just like he should.

He makes a couple stops on the way home. The first is to the nearest Target. Bobby carefully parks, and pretty much literally runs into the store, propelling himself forward with a cart. He scans the flower display and contemplates which one Pat might like before the lightbulb in his mind goes off. He races towards the Valentines Day aisle. The event is still a week away, and hopefully they’ll have exactly what he needs.

Bobby nearly dances when he finds what he’d been looking for: chocolate roses. The delicate chocolate was wrapped daintily in red and green tinfoil. Bobby doesn’t even bother looking at the price tags, he grabs 20 chocolate flowers, and goes in hunt for his next item: ribbon. Once he gets to the crafts aisle, Bobby only knows he wants it to be something lacy. He’d thought maybe red, but now that he’d seen it up close, the red on red is too muted.

He needs something that isn’t simple, something that’ll stand out. Scanning the rolls of lace on the shelves, his eyes keep going back to a dainty white lace. He decides it’s probably his best option, and heads over to the checkout, anxious to get to Pat right as the sun’s sets. Bobby’s in such a hurry that he nearly forgets his bag, this time literally running back to his car, gently setting down the bag on the passenger seat, and pulling out of the parking spot.

<PraisePink: hey, can we talk?>

The message comes through while Bobby’s on the highway, his tongue poking out of his mouth only slightly as he pushes away his nerves. He’s never driven on the interstate highway before, so naturally he’s terrified. He doesn’t even glance at his phone, he’s on a mission, and it’s the most important thing to him right now.

When he pulls the car off the interstate, it’s too stop at a chinese restaurant. He knows Patrick Starr better than he knows himself, and he knows Pat probably is craving chinese right now. Bobby decides even though he isn’t hungry, and can’t even stomach the thought of eating, he’d probably be hungry later, and gets himself some too.

He’s now five minutes away, and each minute spent in the car feels like another hour passing by. The sky is bathed with those glorius golden rays of sun. Once he manages to safely park in front of the apartment complex, he takes a moment to wrap the roses together with the white ribbon. He carefully secures his own takeout box with some ribbon too, and slides it in his bag. Sometimes, you have to find solutions that aren’t necessarily optimal.

He quietly makes his way up the stairs, pausing to read and answer Patrick’s text:

He reaches Pat’s front door right as Patrick starts typing, and places down the bag of chinese takeout, laying the bouqet of chocolate roses on top of them. Bobby rings the doorbell and crouches behind a fake tree, right as the door swings open, heart hammering.

He can just barely make out Patrick’s features as his face contorts in confusion and he bends down to pick them up. “Shoot!” Bobby yelps, realizing he forgot to write a note. As soon as he realizes he said it out loud, he clamps his hands over his mouth, peeking around the plant to check whether Patrick heard it.

His phones buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. He knows it was Pat, he just barely managed to glimpse Patrick’s thumb hit the phone in his hand. “Bobby?” Pat calls out. “I know you’re there, you’re the only guy I know dorky enough to do something like this. Unless it was Edward. Hey Edward?!”

“Whatever it is, the answer is no.” The muffled response makes Pat laugh, and nearly makes Bobby giggle.

Pat picks up the bouqet and the takeout and walks inside, glancing around one last time. His eyes briefly stop where Bobby’s hiding, but he closes the door. Bobby knows he’s waiting. After a minute, Bobby quietly gets up and starts heading back down the stairs dejectedly. He can feel his bottom lip tremble, and he bites down on it. He may very well have lost his best friend. He lets the tears stream freely.

He makes it to the threshold outside the building, glancing back briefly before sitting inside his car and pulling out his phone.

<PraisePink: i know im not the brightest but i just cant tell if ur telling the truth, maybe we need to just take some space>

He places his phone on the console between the front seat and the passenger seat, and places his head on the steering wheel. Bobby’s so wrapped in his thoughts, and emotions he doesn’t hear the door open, or close for that matter. “Sponge.” comes the quiet whisper. Bobby still doesn’t hear it, so Pat places a hand on Bobby’s hunched shoulder.

Bobby jumps, and an ungodly nasally gasp emits itself from his throat. His face burns in embarrassment. “Bobby, listen to me.” Pat states. “I know you’re the one who left the food and the roses.” Bobby opens his mouth, about to tell Pat to just forget about it, when Patrick shakes his head. “Listen. I thought maybe you were being honest with me before, and maybe you were just trying to get me to believe you. But then you left those chocolate flowers and the takeout—which is scary, how’d you know I’d been wanting chinese?”

“Pat—”

“Anyways, my point is, in that moment, I realized you’d always been there for me, you do sweet things like this. It just wouldn’t make sense for you to be mean to me and then do something like that.” Pat grabs Bobby’s small hands in his, but Bobby doesn’t meet his eyes.

His curly burnt orange casts shade over his eyes as he keeps his head downcast. “Pat, I need you to know that I’ve got—”

“I know. I figured it out after that last lyric that was sent to me. I had to go search the song to make sure, but I know music, and I knew that it was Frank Sinatra. To be honest, it’s a clever way to confess.” Patrick lets go of one of Bobby’s hands, and tilts the shorter man’s head up to face him. He gently sweeps the hair off Bobby’s forehead before reconnecting their hands.

“And your cousin Jack was right. I am in love with you too. He’s also right in saying that you have my complete devotion, anything you ask, I’d do for you, because it’s you. Bobby, you’re my best friend, but you’re also the only person I’ve truly loved completely.” Bobby smiles, feeling like hell iced over, but Pat gets out of the car and Bobby willingly follows suit, locking the car behind him.

Pat tugs Bobby close to him and Bobby laughs against Pat’s chest as the taller of the two wraps his arms around the other. They stay like that, their bodies as physically close as they can be, for a minute and a half. They each regard the other for a moment, before Bobby stands on tiptoe, and kisses Patrick.

He whispers the words “I’ve got a crush on you.”

Pat snorts, “Dork.”

#spongebob #patrick #spongebob the musical #pearl #mr krabs #squidward #this took forever #and i didnt even go to school today

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starlight-parkers · 6 years ago

Text

Early | soulmate!peter parker x reader

[ gif belongs to @spideypparkers ]

author’s note(s): helloooo im back from the dead after almost four months of no posting, my own writing that is. im sorry for my absence, a lot has happened in the last few months, but i hope this fic makes up for it uwu. this was a request from anon. so i hope you enjoy.

warning(s): angst, swearing?, kidnapping, mentions of blood, fight scenes oof

rating: teen?

genre: angst to fluff

words: 3.1K

summary: he could feel your emotions, he could feel your pain, he just wished he was earlier, so he didnt have to feel you hurt.

Peter could never love anyone more than he loved you. Not only was it written in the stars of fate for you, but he had loved you even before then, before he knew what a soulmate was.

In this world, you first found out that you had a soulmate through the senses and emotions (you felt this first at the start of puberty). More often than not, you would feel sad when your soulmate was or they would feel happy when you were but when you met your soulmate, it was said that you would experience a burst of warmth and something that you would have never felt before.

Peter thought himself to be lucky, his soulmate ending up to be you, his longtime crush. He loved everything about you, from the way you laughed to the way your brows furrowed and your tongue stuck out when you studied hard. He loved how caring you were for others and how much you were willing to do to make someone else happy. He loved you, no. He was in love with you.

But sometimes, to him, finding his soulmate in his teen years was a slight burden. Yes, you were his whole world and yes, you treated him well but the teenaged super hero couldn’t help but think that there were things he was missing out on because he had formed his soulmate connection early.

The teen felt as if he had missed out on that wild, rebellious and experimental part of youth. He never got to find himself as a person, test the boundaries. Because he was bound to you. Eternally.

Now, Peter couldn’t blame you for that, he loved you and you, him. It would be unfair to do so. But being so young and watching his friends up and out there in the world made him envious. And right now, he was seriously envious of their ability to not be able to feel their soulmate’s emotions, much more intensely. After becoming bound to each other, it’s possible for the emotional connection between soulmates to strengthen instead of disappear. That had been the case for yourself and Peter.

As he trained alongside his mentor, turned uncle figure, the brunette could feel your irritation bursting through his veins and he knew exactly why you were feeling that way. Letting out a huff, the webbed-hero forced himself to work away your emotions as he practiced his moves, so he could focus more on himself but with every passing thought, he could tell that his girlfriend was becoming more and more frustrated.

Plopping down on the training mat, Peter let out an exhausted sigh as your irked emotions seemed to subside. He ran a hand through his sweaty locks as he watched his mentor take a seat opposite him after their sparring match. “You okay kid?” Tony asked, tossing the boy a bottle of water to soothe his heaving chest.

Peter nodded, resting his outstretched arms on his knees as he toyed with the plastic. “It’s just (Y/N)” Tony raised a brow as the younger hero went on. “I can tell she’s slightly mad at me for spending the weekend up here training instead of being with her”

Tony only nodded in response, choosing not to give advice from his own failed relationships (he had yet to meet his soulmate) and pressed his lips into a thin line. Sometimes, Peter wished he could be like the billionaire; live out his life for just a little longer before finding his soulmate but other times, he noticed how lonely Mr Stark got and he considered himself grateful then.

As the young avenger settled into his bed at the avengers compound, a strong wave of sadness crashed over him as it pumped through his veins. Peter knew you were upset, he hated when you felt that way especially when he was the cause behind it. The young brunette thought about sending you cute little cat videos, maybe some vines to cheer you up because he loved you and would much rather bask in your happiness rather than revel in your sadness but suddenly; there was a gut wrenching blow of pain that twisted in a spot at the back of Peter’s head and an unexpected feeling of fear and panic rose in the chambers of his chest.

Shooting up, he felt his own panic trickle into his blood stream, flowing in a circuit around his body and making him anxious. Throwing the covers off his body, the brunette teen scrambled for his phone, viciously tapping in the passcode before scrolling to your phone number. He dialled it.

It rang once. Twice. Three times.

“H-hello-?” The voice was weak, small and quivering but Peter knew it was yours. There was somewhat of a thwack and then a whimper causing Peter to clench the phone In is grip. “Peter...”

“Y/N-? Baby, are you okay? Where-?” The pause that followed had the boy tense, one hundred million thoughts running through his head. A dark chuckle emitted from the end of the line, along with more whimpers. “I don’t know who you are...” Peter growled, hating whoever it was, that was hurting his girlfriend, his soulmate. “But if you lay another hand on her, I swear to god I’ll-“

“Oh what’s this?” The voice taunted, not even intimidated by Peter’s menacing tone. “Is The itsy bitsy spider, threatening me? Now, we just can’t have that can we little dove? Tell your precious little soulmate how things are going to go down, darling.”

There was shuffling on the other end, heavy breaths filling the air. “P-pete...” he gripped the phone harder at your voice. “I don’t know how they got m-me but they want something from Mr Stark. I don’t know what, I-“

The line cuts off and the teenaged superhero drops his phone with shaky hands, leaning back on his headboard as he tried to gather his thoughts. What would he do? How could he help you? How could he let this happen to you? His soulmate? Fingers practically trembled as the brunette reached for his phone, a text message illuminating the screen and the the room.

[To Peter Parker]

[From Baby <3 ]

Bring us the stark tech or your precious little dove gets it.

Another text followed though only mere seconds later, with coordinates his soulmates location sending him into a frenzy. The brunette shot up, yanking on the spidersuit, pacing around the room as he did so. How would he get what he needed? What would Mr Stark say? A plan formulated in his mind, he could always scale the building and sneak into the labs, maybe even disable F.R.I.D.A.Y for a while. Nodding his head, Peter lugged open his window, fear settling in his chest at the prospect of his soulmate getting hurt or even stealing from his mentor.

Just as he was about to crawl through the window, his bedroom door popped open with a click. The teen superhero half expected it to be Vision, heading to the wrong quarters again but instead he was met with the groggy face of his role model, Tony Stark. “P-Peter” the elder man yawned, stretching his back until it cracked. Said boy froze in his place, unsure of how to react, of how it looked with him trying to sneak out. “I heard shuffling, are you okay-?”

Tony glanced over the boy, confusion falling over his tired and aged features as he watched Peter step down from the window. “Mr Stark- I...it’s not what it looks like-“

That was all it took for the boy to break down, heaving out his fears and worries and the menacing situation that raided his teenage mind. After all, he was still just a kid, and yes he hadn’t experienced the wild side of being a teenager, but if anything had happened to you. Peter would never forgive himself.

Tony held the boy through out his tears, shakes and shivers, promising the teenaged superhero that he’d get his soulmate back, even if it was the last thing either of them did. They left the compound that night with two words on the seams of the elder’s lips. “Suit up”

It wasn’t long before the pair reached the warehouse you were being held hostage at. The air, was thick, scents of rotting wood and damp wafting through it whilst the atmosphere was tense and left a heavy feeling on Peter’s shoulders.

The place was littered with men, most of the loitering and some carrying weapons. Peter and Tony watched from behind craters, the elder hero trying to formulate some kind of plan before trying to get to you. Peter’s mind was rushing at a million miles per minute as he tried to figure out who was behind this, who had taken you. “Listen Kid, we’re going to need a plan if we’re going to do this properly” Tony whispered, from his right, but the boy paid no mind.

Then he heard it, that voice. The one from the phone. The one who had so sickeningly called you ‘little dove’

And then everything went black.

Blinded by rage, the spider-like hero tore himself from his hiding place, charging at the men who stood about, despite the desperate pleads of the iron man, who stood beside him. Peter shot web after web, towards the men, dragging them down to the ground as their leader, your capture tried to escape. Web fluid, tugged men about, slamming them to the ground by the skull, anxiety raged through the boy’s body, anger courses through his veins and he wasn’t quite sure if it was because he felt your emotions or if he was scared himself.

Tony was shooting blaster’s beside him, he was taking punches and kicks and hits all over, but he’d snapped when he heard the words. “Make sure he doesn’t get the girl!”

“Where is she?!” The brunette yelled viciously, one web later and one of the minions was disarmed, arms pinned to the wall above him as Peter marched forward, with the intent to kill. He gripped the man by the shoulders, shaking him with vigour as he felt his soulmate’s fear rise. “I said where the hell is she?!”

His voice was desperate, but his actions fierce, almost as if he had instant kill mode activated without Karen’s help. The man shook his head, mumbling apologies, pleas for his life. The teen was only mere seconds from ending it, for taking his girl. The one he promised to protect but he was stopped.

“He’s not worthit kid...” Tony tired to reason, the mask plate of his helmet sliding up. The older hero’s expression was stern, almost remorseful, as he gently pried Peter away from the man. “Go after your girl, I’ll take care of things out here.”

With reluctance, the superhero released the minion, nodding his head as he ran off through the warehouse, looking for his soulmate, looking for you. The corridors grew darker and darker with each step, the only sounds coming from the dripping pipes and perhaps even... sobs?

Turning a corner, Peter found himself at the entrance to an empty room and at its centre, was you. You looked tired, weak, hair scraggly and tangled, arms bound to a chair behind your back with your head hung low. You were crying, crystal droplets of water, streaming down the apples of your grubby cheeks. Your breathing uneven.

Peter hated to see you this way.

And it was all his fault.

There was a brief second where you’d looked up, relief flooding through your veins when you noticed the familiar red and blue of Peter’s costume. A faint gasp tumbled from your lips, your red blew wide as you noticed him, and even the faintest of smiles tugged at your lips. Peter felt relief and even happiness filter through his blood stream, and from beneath the mask he was smiling too, you were okay.

But the moment ended as quickly as it came, the leader stopping in front of you once again. Peter watched as the man’s bony fingers traced the edge of your jawline, tipping your chin up so that you would look at him. Goosebumps rose on the plains of his skin, throat dry as he watched, hoping you got out unscathed.

“Oh little dove” the man drawled with a villainous and cool tone, making you flinch away from him. “Your silly boyfriend’s here to save you” he tutted, as you struggled to get away, whimpers burning at the back of your throat. “Too bad he didn’t follow one of my rules, bringing backup. Now we might have to kill him too.”

The man removed himself from your smaller frame, but that didn’t stop you from screaming out. “P-please don’t hurt him, I’ll do anything-“ your voice was hoarse, dry like an arid desert from your lack of water which broke Peter’s heart. The villain offered you a half hearted, sympathetic pout before grinning evilly as he began to prepare for his battle with the infamous Spider-Man.

Peter couldn’t control his next actions.

The brunette blindly flung himself into the room, slinging webs at anyone who approached him during his blind hazy fury. Casting out two webs, the teen hero caught the villain by his arms, yanking him forward so that he hit his head on the railing before him. “Let her go” Peter growled, advancing towards the man to perform another attack.

“Not until I get what you promised me”

Peter yanked him forward again with gritted teeth and fury in his eyes. “I said, let her go”

He made a move to step forward, only stopping at the sound of a blade being drawn and a gasp falling from your trembling lips. A man, most likely a follower of the leader, stood by you, a silver blade pointed to your side, as Peter held the man unsteadily in his grip.

“Make one more move and she gets it” the leader spoke, a smug tone seeping into his voice. The teen could do nothing but analyse the situation, for him, there was no way out of it. One step or false movement could end your life, could end his own. You were his everything.

It almost seemed like all hope was lost, when the sound of a blaster charging up tickled the tips of Peter’s ears, diving away, he narrowly missed the beam of heat energy that Tony’s protective armour released. There was a mumble of‘go get her kid’ from the older superheroes blast.

Launching himself at the chair you were bound too, Peter was mere seconds away from being reunited with his soulmate. All he wanted to do was gather you up and bring you home, whispering sweet nothings into your ear but he was soon stopped by a certain feeling. The feeling of pain.

It bloomed to the right of his abdomen, like a bright flower at the beginnings of spring, except more excruciating, more deadly. The teen boy fell to the ground, his eyes screwing shut and as soundless scream passed his lips. His fingers that prodded at his stomach felt no blood, but the sight he saw when looking up was even worse.

You were slumped forward in your chair, eyes wide with shock, body frozen with fear as a crimson patch grew from the point at which the blade had cut you. Your eyes fluttered open and closed as yells of your name passed from Peter Parker’s lips. He could feel it, your pain, your fear, anxiety because,

You didn’t want to die.

And he could feel that.

And even as the teen begged you to stay awake, begged you to keep your eyes open and stay strong for him, he knew he was fading away into a dark, black abyss as well.

Maybe it was the repetitive blip of the heart monitors or the bright fluorescent lights thank roused Peter, or maybe it was the wild thoughts and memories pumping through his brain that woke him up. He couldn’t tell.

With blinking brown doe eyes, he looked around, taking in the minimalist room. White painted walls, white bed sheets, white light light, white that. Everything was blank. The boy assumed he was in the hospital ward of the avengers compound, the IV drip in his hand giving it away.

His sweaty palms lay lightly on the crisp linen sheets, probably made of the finest material Tony Stark could find, as he tried to piece together bit by bit what had happened for him to wake up in such a way. The more he thought about it, the more scared, queasy and uneasy he felt because firstly, he didn’t know where you were and secondly;

He couldn’t feel your emotions, your feelings.

Quietly, The young Parker unhooked himself from the series of machines, bare feet padding out of his room and down the corridor as he narrowly managed to avoid bumping into Mr Stark and Aunt May, who were arguing with hushed whispers. That wasn’t important right now. Peter quickly gained access to your hospital room, with the help of Karen, his feet cold from the tiled floor, but the rest of his body warm from the fluffy PJS Mr Stark had left him with.

The boy hesitantly stepped into your room, that same heart monitor sound pulsing throughout the silence. Peter’s heart almost broke when he skim read your file.

[induced coma for stability]

Your operations were successful, you were going to survive that horrible wound but that didn’t stop your boyfriend, your soulmate from succumbing to the gray clouds of guilt. If it hadn’t been from him, you wouldn’t be in this mess, wounded with paling skin from blood loss. Your hair wouldn’t be tangled and dry, but instead bouncy and bright, your eyes wouldn’t have heavy bags under them, but would maybe have only one or two from your late night Netflix binge watches. Had he been earlier, none of these things would have happened.

Had he been earlier, You wouldn’t have almost died.

With shaky hands, Peter let his fingers brush over your hairline as he would when he held you close, his other hand interlocked with yours that lay bandaged at your side, and he leaned down with watery eyes full of regret. “I’m sorry” the bot whispered with a quivering voice, brown eyes shutting sharply to prevent himself from tearing up. Why couldn’t he have been earlier? “I’m so so sorry”

His eyes kept closed this time as he rested his forehead on his soulmate’s, whispering a thousand sorrows against your skin, barely noticing the way your smaller hand squeezed his.

To let him know, it was all going to be okay.

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humanityinahandbag · 6 years ago

Text

hotel transylvania 3: texting

or: Ericka is thrilled to be added to the families official group chat. Unfortunately, Dracula hasn’t gotten this whole texting thing down

(Adventures in Family Texting between a small family of vampires and humans)

Very short without much of an ending. This is nothing more than my tired excuse at writing practice and giving myself a good chuckle. Enjoy.

When Ericka’s phone dings sometime while she’s chatting to the Hydra about their lovely scales (”thank you so much, Captain, we do our very best”) she checks her phone, nearly bursts into unwanted tears, and excuses herself to lean on one of the lobby’s couches.

Mavis: Hey, Ericka! Adding you to our family group chat! Let me know if you get this!

She’d never been a part of anything. The mundanity of a family group chat was so... boring in concept but left her warm and teary-eyed, and she swiped at her eyes.

She was about to respond with some sort of long-winded, heartfelt thank you until three dots on the bottom appeared.

Dracula: MAVIS WHY ARE YOU TEXTING ME

Mavis: We’re adding Ericka to the group chat, dad

Johnny: Sweeeeet 🙌🏼

Dracula: MAVY WAVY THAT’S A GREAT IDEA DID YOU TELL HER YET

Mavis: This is a GROUP CHAT dad. She’s on, now.

Dracula: ERICKA YOU’RE A PART OF OUR GROUP CHAT NOW

Mavis: Dad, she knows

Dracula: ERICKA. YOU JUST HAVE TO TYPE AND SEND IT AND EVERYONE SEES IT

Mavis: She knows how to use group chat, dad

Dracula: TYPE INTO THE BOX AND THEN PRESS SEND

Ericka: I know, honey.

Dracula: THE SEND BUTTON IS THE BLUE ONE THAT SAYS SEND

Ericka: I know, honey, thank you.

Dracula: SHE FIGURED IT OUT MAVIS

Johnny: dude, you can talk to the people there, you know?

Ericka: I’m here, hon. You can talk to me.

Dracula: MAVIS WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING ME ERICKA FIGURED IT OUT

Mavis: We all know, dad.

She must have looked all colors of. crazy from the way she was chuckling down at her phone. She looked up. A few monsters gave her a look or two but went back to their newspapers. Ericka shrugged off the feeling of the awkward spotlight and looked back down at her screen.

Her boyfriend (was that what he was? the term was almost strange and young, like she was still in middle school, mooning over some blonde haired scrawny boy, but it still managed to send little sparks down her spine) was savvy in the ways of most things having to do with hotel management.

Tech intelligent, he was not.

She typed back “Thanks for adding me” and waited.

Three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen.

Dracula: ERICKA MAKE SURE YOU DON’T SEND ANYTHING YOU DON’T WANT THEM TO SEE ON HERE THIS IS PUBLIC.

Ericka: I know, honey.

Mavis: she knows, dad 😑And you don’t need to keep using caps lock.

Dracula: WHAT’S CAPS LOCK

A minute passed. She watched the dots appear, disappear, and then appear again.

Dracula: HEY HONEY ARE YOU FREE TONIGHT I WAS THINKING YOU COULD TRY ON THAT NEW LINGERIE WE PICKED OUT

Mavis: Group chat, dad! Group! Chat!

Johnny: lol

Dracula: ERICKA THIS WAS A GROUP CHAT I ACCIDENTALLY TYPED INTO DON’T DO THE SAME THING I DID

Dracula: I THINK I FINALLY FIGURED IT OUT DO YOU WANT TO TRY ON THE LINGERIE TONIGHT

Ericka: Still group chat, honey.

Mavis: DAD.

Ericka pockets her phone, doing her best to swallow back the outrageous cocktail of embarrassment and hysteria. She made a note to try and teach the King of Darkness how to navigate his phone later.

Maybe after that night. When she tried on the new lingerie.

Mavis had grown accustomed, day by day (and sometimes hour by hour) with the presence of her fathers new significant other. And had made an effort to at least try and include the woman.

And when she had, when the gates were opened, and when the invitations were extended, she found that Ericka... was actually pretty cool.

She was actually really cool.

The woman had been to nearly every continent, save Australia, and had navigated the seas for twenty-seven long years. “I started when I was fifteen,” she told the young Vampiress, who was going through the hotel menus for the week while Ericka sat beside her, stapling invoices to accounts. “My grandfather had me training before then, but we didn’t have the boat until I turned fourteen. So-”

“And you learned on your own?”

Ericka shrugged, slapping down the lid of the stapler with a thud. “I did a lot of things alone. The only thing he really helped me with was...” she squirmed, choosing her words carefully, “monster stuff. You know...”

��Oh,” said Mavis. The topic was rarely breached, though Ericka suspected it wouldn’t be long until the vampiress started asking questions.

“But other than that...”

Mavis shook her head, shaking the memory of krakens and wooden stakes off her mind. “So what? You only learned on a cruise ship?”

“Oh, no. I learned on all sorts. Sailing, small schooners, rowboats, catamaran, fishing. I still own the cruise ship. Haven’t had the heart to sell it, yet, since cruise season is coming. Your dad and I are figuring out if I should go for a few months or not. I still have a small motorboat docked out somewhere near New York. I’m thinking of having it shipped here.” She grinned. “If I do, I’ll have to take you and Johnny out on some of the lakes. Sunrise on the water is to die for.”

Mavis, midway down the menu page, popped her head up. “For reals?”

“Sure!” Ericka flicked her hand. “Cruises are one thing. But small boat rides out? When it’s quiet and the sun is just coming up? Nothing more romantic.”

“Oh my god, that sounds perf-”

Their phones both buzzed.

They looked down.

Dracula: ERICKA I THINK I LOCKED MYSELF INSIDE MY COFFIN

Mavis slumped. “Didn’t you guys get a bed?”

“Yeah. But he likes the coffin when he’s freaking out, and you know the quarterly review is due tomorrow and...” she tapered off, already texting.

Ericka: Honey, this is a group chat. What’s wrong?

Dracula: IM STUCK

Ericka: Yeah. Honey. I got that. But how

Dracula: I DON’T KNOW IT JUST HAPPENED

Dracula: SOS

Ericka sighed. “Put a pin in this,” she apologized. Mavis flashed a thumbs up. “I’m going to go save your father from himself.”

“Good luck,” Mavis called after her, going back to the menus.

A few minutes later her phone buzzed again. There was a private text, from Ericka.

Ericka: Your father accidentally slammed his coffin too hard. It got stuck. I’m trying to get him out. Can you call maintenence?

Mavis: Sure.

Mavis put her phone down. And then she picked it back up, grinning.

Mavis: Can you send a video, first?

Ericka: ...

Ericka: [Ericka has sent a video]

Mavis accepted the link.

Dracula: MAVIS I KNOW YOU HAVE A VIDEO OF ME SCREAMING FOR HELP IN MY COFFIN

Mavis: ... no?

Dracula: I KNOW YOU DO

Dracula: BUT I WANT YOU TO TEACH ME

Mavis: Teach you what

Dracula: HOW DO YOU VIDEO IN TEXT

Mavis: You don’t video in text, dad. You open the camera.

Dracula: ...

Dracula: THIS PHONE HAS A CAMERA?

It took quite a bit to get Vampire’s drunk. Their hearts didn’t technically beat, and their blood didn’t really run, and so most of the chemicals that needed to get to their brains could only get there after said Vampire were absolutely and totally pickled.

Wayne, Murray, Frank, and Griffin succeeded.

The wedding of the Chupacabra had ended after 5 am, and though most of the guests had long gone back to their rooms, the boys had dragged Dracula along, claiming that a long overdue boys night.

“Go,” Ericka had told him, waving him away with a yawn. “I’m gonna get to bed anyway. My feet are killing me.” He’d swept her into every dance there; the notion of watching slow dances from the side of the dance floor had been left behind, and he hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d finished swaying to the last Al Green song.

He kissed her cheek. And then, looking behind him to make sure his Pack wasn’t watching, he leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips.

The pack apparently was watching and chose then to let out a chorus of hoots.

“I’ll meet you upstairs?”

“Remember to shut off the lights.”

And they’d taken him away, with little calls of “thank you, Captain!” and “we’ll have him back in one piece!”

That had been three hours ago. Before they’d begun plying one another with beers. And then shots. And finally, when the sun was beginning to burn dew off the leaves, mixers.

The zombie bartender handed Dracula another cosmo, while Griffin sucked the vodka out of the chunks of pineapple on his skewer.

“God...” Murray slurred, sucking back a Sex on the Beach. “Le’me tell you somethin’. Y’all are soooooo lucky. With wiiiiives and relaaaaaationships-”

Wayne slumped down, grinning from ear to ear. He motioned for the bartender to refill his vodka tonic. “SOOOooo lucky,” he said. “SO SO lucky. I got kids. I got... got Wanda. God, she-she’s per -hic- perfect.”

“Mmmmm...” agreed Griffin, trying to stab his pineapple with the fancy umbrella. “Totally. Tot-a-lly. TOTES.”

Frank, half asleep on the countertop motioned weakly with his hand.

Dracula poked at his cosmo sadly. He wasn’t drunk, was he? He could see straight (even if most of what he saw was doubles) and he still seemed to be able to use magic? He flickered his fingers experimentally. A shot of blue knocked over a chair somewhere behind him.

Okay. So maybe not.

God? When was the last time he’d had this much to drink? He’d been stressed lately, with wedding planning and the hotels new wave of maintenance ever since the heavy Transylvanian summer showers had begun. His head gave a lovely thump thump and he rubbed his temple. It was stress that was causing the headache, he told himself. And not the six vodka tonics and seven cosmos he’d knocked back in the last two hours.

Yeah. That made sense. Stress. Just stress.

“‘M super luckyyy tooo” drawled Frank, head still on the counter. “Got... got a wife... She’s sooooo pretty.” He held his ears. “But loud.”

Griffin burped.

Dracula poked his drink again, suddenly feeling lonely in all the talk of wives and partners. “Ohhhhh” he groaned, plucking at the cherry at the end of his tiny umbrella. “I wishhhhh I was luckkkkky too. Haven’ -urp- haven’ had someone since... since Martha an-”

“Drac!” Griffin tried to put his hand on the counts shoulder but ended up slapping it instead. “Drac you DO. Remeeeember? You have Eri-Ericka.”

Dracula sat taller. “Oh yeah!” he exclaimed. He swayed in his seat. “Ericka!”

Frank popped up. “Ericka’s great!” he shouted before his head fell back down with a THUMP that made all the drinks jump in their glasses.

Dracula nodded, ignoring the feeling of sea sickness in his gut. Was the hotel floating? He didn’t remember installing a lake? “She’s- she’s so so so so sooooooo great! She’s so pretty and nice and pretty and pretty-”

“So nice!” agreed Wayne.

Murray nodded. “And she could kill you!”

“Which’s suuuuuuper hot,” said Griffin.

“Totally hot,” mumbled Frank into the counter.

“I shou-should text her!”

“You totally should.” Wayne pumped his fist. “Do it! Do it!”

“I’m gonna!” That was a good idea! Texting meant you weren’t drunk, right? Or stressed? Or absolutely out of your mind?

Dracula took out his phone. “What should I say?”

“Use those faces!” Griffin said, glasses slipping off. “Girls looove those faces.”

“And compliment her,” suggested Murray. “Say she’s beautiful.”

“And could kill you,” mumbled Frank.

“YES.” Dracula liked this idea. Dracula liked this idea a lot.

Dracula: HEY HONEY SMILEY FACE

Dracula: THE BOYS AND I ARE STILL HERE SMILEY FACE

Dracula: THEY REMINDED ME THAT YOU EXIST AND I WANTED TO SAY HOW MUCH I LOVE YOUR FACE SMILEY FACE

Dracula: IT’S A GREAT FACE EVEN IF IT TRIED TO KILL ME THAT ONE TIME HEART

Ericka: ...

Ericka: honey... why are you texting me.

Mavis: what’s happening?

Dracula: BECAS I LOVE YOU

Dracula: OH HELLO MAVY WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

Ericka: This is a group chat, sweetheart.

Mavis: Dad I was sleeping

Ericka: We all were. it’s 7 in the morning.

Dracula: YES BUT I LOVE YOU SMILEY FACE

Ericka: Why do you keep saying smiley face and heart?

Dracula: BECAUSE GIRLS LOVE WHEN MEN USE EMOTION CONS HEART

Mavis: You don’t spell them you use the picture Just put a heart or a smiley face.

Dracula: THERE ARE PICTURES? SMILEY FACE

Mavis: oh my god.

Ericka: ...

Ericka: text me again and i’ll actually kill you

Dracula: OKAY HONEY HEARTHEARTHEART

Dracula: ...

Dracula: ERICKA I STILL LOVE YOUR FACe

Dracula: AND YOUR BUTT

Dracula: YOU LOOK GREAT NAKED

Mavis: Ericka, please kill him

Mavis: I’ll give you the stakes myself

Ericka: 👍🏼I’m pretty sure I still have extras in my duffel but thank you, sweetheart

Mavis: No prob goodnight

Dracula: THATS SUPER HOT

Ericka: I’m locking you outside in the sun if you don’t stop

Dracula held his phone close to his chest. “I just love her so much,” he choked.

“Super hot,” said Griffin.

Frank groaned into the counter.

Dracula woke up with an earth-shattering headache. “Oh...” he mumbled. “Oh shit.” From next to him, Ericka looked up from her book. It was some adventure story with an explosion on the cover.

“Yeah,” she said. “That sounds about right.”

“What did I do last night?” he rolled over, facing her, wincing in the light of her bedside lamp. His voice sounded too loud against the stone walls. “Did I die?”

“No. But I almost killed you.”

“Oh,” he said.

“And you drank a lot,” she said, going back to her book. “I’m pretty sure it was a bunch of cosmos. That’s what you told me when you came back.”

“I walked back?” He squinted, trying to remember. Or maybe trying to block out the light. When did the room get so bright?

“Mmmhm. Jumped into bed and woke me up to tell me that I was hot.” She turned the page. “And then you stole all the covers. You’re lucky I don’t keep stakes next to me.”

He ignored the last part and rubbed his face. “I think I’m dead. I think I died, and now I’m dead.”

“Technically, you’re undead.”

“You know what I mean.” He pushed his hands against his eyes. “It’s been a long few weeks. Stress is doing me in.”

“This isn't stressed,” Ericka said into her book. “You’re hungover..”

He groaned, hiding his eyes in his pillow. “Vampires,” he remarked painfully, “don’t get drunk.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true. Because you were drunk.”

“Stressed,” he argued.

“Stressed people don’t drunk text their entire families at 8 in the morning.”

He peeked out with one eye. “What?”

“Yup.” Ericka said, popping the P. “You spelled out emoticons. and then told everyone I looked good naked.”

Dracula stared at her like she’d told him the earth was moments away from destruction. “I didn’t.”

“You did,” she said, turning the page again. “But please. Blame it on stress.”

He hid his face in the pillow and groaned.

I’m sure that there are many more adventures in Vampire/Human Family Texting.

But right now, these are the ones I could think of.

Please, enjoy.

#hotel transylvania #hotel transylvania 3 #Count and Captain #adventures in texting #poor drac doesn't know how to text #he's getting there

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danfanciesphil · 7 years ago

Text

Give Me A Try (New Chapter)

Gay Instagram Model/Bartender Phan AU Part 3

(Part One)

(Part Two)

(Read on Ao3!)

Dan’s in the middle of his break, scrolling through his phone, when a text notification appears at the top of his screen. He drops his bagel into his lap, cursing.

The text is from Phil. He doesn’t know any other Phil’s, so it has to be AmazingPhil, texting him, inexplicably.

He clicks the notification, eyes wide, simultaneously scooping up the bagel bits that have fallen onto his knees.

From: Phil To: Dan im in makeup for a weird photoshoot for some korean clothing brand and they just put loads of silver goo in my hair to make it chromey

As Dan is reading the message, searching between the lines for a reason Phil might be telling him this information, another text pings through.

From: Phil To: Dan whoops, i kinda meant to send that to PJ. but hey, if you’re interested, here’s a pic of me with ‘Kpop Idol Silver Hair Paste’ in lol xx

From: Phil To: Dan [image]

The phone slips from Dan’s fingers, clattering through his legs to the floor of the staff room. Phil has sent him a selfie. An un-edited, un-Instagrammed photo of his breathtaking face, up close. Sure, there’s a weird silvery goop in his usually raven hair, but still. Gingerly, Dan retrieves the phone, a small, strangled sound escaping from his throat as he surveys the image in front of him.

It makes a little more sense now that Phil has informed him that he had actually mistakenly texted the original message, but did the guy really have to follow up with a photo? He must, surely, be aware of Dan’s crush. He witnessed the brunt of Dan’s obsessive stalking in person on his phone, after all.

Bagel entirely forgotten, Dan just stares down into the pixelated blue of Phil Lester’s eyes, wondering how to respond, and if he even should. Deciding eventually that it would be rude not to, Dan shakily types out something he hopes is vaguely witty.

From: Dan To: Phil hahaha wow :’) kpop? more like kpoop. (it looks like bird poop, sorry dude.) x

From: Phil To: Dan hahaha it does ur so right. and if you think thats bad you should see the outfits… xx

Settling back into his chair, Dan bites his lip. As he thinks of a potential response, his eyes wander over to the spot, just to the right of him, where he and Phil had stood not long ago, when it had seemed like maybe, possibly, Phil might’ve…

But obviously that’s absurd.

Dan’s wishful thinking had clearly driven him to the point of hallucination, because the very notion that Phil Lester, AmazingPhil, the famous Instagram model, would ever have looked at Dan as anything more than a random bartender, is laughable.

Dan sighs to himself, then smirks. Well, just because he has no chance, doesn’t mean he can’t utilise his semi-connection to the celebrity to get some behind-the-scenes footage of his fave.

From: Dan To: Phil well now i have to see x

There’s a noticeable pause, and Dan wonders, panicking vaguely, if he may have pushed too far. Is it a little much to ask this of Phil? Maybe he just won’t respond, and Dan will have to quit his job forever, or maybe just spend his shifts on red alert that Phil will wander into the bar, and hide from him if he does-

He texts back.

From: Phil To: Dan [image]

From: Phil To: Dan hot, right? xx

For two long, uninterrupted minutes, Dan is frozen. Then, he lets out a muffled groan of frustration. The photo Phil sent is a full body shot taken by someone else; he’s dressed in an asymmetrical long white t-shirt with several long rips through the chest, some bright pink camouflage trousers, and a shiny silver puffer jacket with a black fur-lined hood. The outfit is a complete disaster, but it doesn’t matter in the slightest. His chest is visible through the slits in the tee; having seen it twice now IRL, Dan is drawn to the slivers he can see. The trousers make his eyes pop, and the jacket matches the silver streaked through his hair.

His pose is casual, feet apart, smirking at the camera, with his hands gesturing to his body as if to say ‘see what i mean?’. If he’d posted this on his Instagram, Dan gets the feeling he’d have saved it to his camera roll anyway, maybe even made it his phone background.

Dan’s done that with a few of his favourite photos of Phil in the past. He won’t even dwell on the time when Phil posted a photo of himself in the bath and Dan, in a semi-sleep-deprived fit of insanity, printed the photo out and stuck it on his wall.

Tyler came over once, weeks later, saw the photo taped above Dan’s bed, and tore the thing down. He’d told Dan, quite rightly, to stop being such a creep and keep his crazed obsessive behaviour to social media like everyone else.

“Who even has physical photos these days?? You’re like a fucking serial killer!”

Dan chuckles at this memory. He’s glad for Tyler, sometimes, even if he’s only good for keeping Dan’s stalkerish behaviour within the realms of normalcy.

Belatedly, he realises it’s been over five minutes and he still hasn’t responded to Phil. Also, his break is close to being over.

From: Dan To: Phil woww. please, phil of the future, tell me what life is like in 2087 x

From: Phil To: Dan stawwp. i keep laughing out loud at what ur saying and now the designer is sending me death glares :’’’D xx

Trying hard to ignore the fact that his dorky jokes are apparently literally making Phil ‘lol’, Dan checks the time, and sighs, typing out another message.

From: Dan To: Phil is the designer a martian? or maybe secretly one of those reptile-people? maybe skin him just to be safe. also my break is over so i gtg. have fun on set of NASA’s moonlanding recreation x

From: Phil To: Dan aww ur at work too? that sux. i forgot that u work at night lol. hope u stay dry this evening ;) xx

From: Dan To: Phil speaking of… why are u at work? isnt it kind of late for a photoshoot? x

From: Phil To: Dan well its 8am here so no haha xx

From: Dan To: Phil where are you? x

From: Phil To: Dan seoul :) hence the… unusual fashion lol xx

Dan’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. He stands from his chair, throws his half eaten bagel in the trash, and looks around himself. He’s in the staff room - a small, dusty space with a row of falling apart lockers, a couple of chairs and a small table. There’s a hook on the wall which holds a load of unused aprons, and a rusty heater for when it’s especially cold.

He’s about to go back out to serve a load of rowdy customers some overpriced cocktails, then mop a dancefloor sticky with sweat, alcohol, and whatever other liquids might have found their way there. Then, he’s going to go back to his crummy flat way across in Kemptown, unfold his sofabed, and fall asleep to Netflix.

Phil, on the other side of the world in Korea, is having his hair, makeup and wardrobe done by professionals. He’s being treated like a celebrity, no doubt, and pampered excessively. Later, he’ll receive high-definition, professional photographs of himself looking gorgeous, and post them to his Instagram, where millions of people will tell him how stunning he looks.

Dan sighs to himself. How the other half lives.

The following day, Dan wakes up to find that Phil has updated his Instagram story, and posted the photo with the silver goo in his hair. The same one he’d sent to Dan. The caption reads:

Not sure silver hair was a good idea! The designer was going for Kpop, but ended up with Kpoop… can’t wait to show you guys the photos from this shoot! xx

Two things cross Dan’s mind.

First, Dan can now officially state that he had a sneak-peek at an official AmazingPhil photo before it was posted.

Second, the bitch totally stole his joke.

He smiles to himself ruefully, then decides to leave a comment. There’s no way that Phil will even see it - he’s never seen any of Dan’s others, or at least Dan sincerely hopes he hasn’t, as they’re mostly things like ‘choke me’ or ‘slap me round the face with your yaoi hands dad’.

Okay, maybe he tends to leave those sorts of comments when he’s less than sober.

This time, Dan just taps out a simple:

danisnotonfire: joke stealing is a low form of theft phil smh ;)

Still smiling to himself, Dan rolls over onto his side, and settles in to watch Phil’s story. The stories are usually long, silly, and full of adorable clips of Phil being clumsy and cute. As expected, this one is no exception. It’s a tour of Phil’s hotel room in Seoul, which is very posh.

Phil exclaims over the origami hand towels on his bed, the robe provided for him in the wardrobe, and the multiple options on the ‘disco shower’ as he calls it. Just as Dan is marvelling at the panoramic shot Phil has filmed of his view from the balcony, a notification pings at the top of his screen.

amazingphil replied to your comment: joke stealing is…

Dan sits bolt upright in bed, the sheets falling off him. He runs a hand through his messy hair, eyes wide. He clicks the notification before it disappears, heart pounding.

Oh no, oh no, oh no. Dan hadn’t intended for him to actually see. What if Phil thinks he’s being rude? He doesn’t actually mind Phil stealing his stupid joke about the hair goo. It’s an honour, if anything, that Phil finds his dumb joke good enough to post as a caption millions of people will read.

Heart thrumming, Dan finds the response Phil left.

danisnotonfire: joke stealing is a low form of theft phil smh ;)

amazingphil: @danisnotonfire aha i was kinda hoping you wouldn’t see ;D

Another notification pings at the top of his screen.

amazingphil started following you

“Holy shit,” Dan says to nobody.

amazingphil liked your photo

“Fuck,” Dan squeaks, clutching his pillow for support. “Stop it Phil, I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

Curious, Dan clicks the last notification, wondering which photo it was that Phil pressed the little heart for. To his surprise, it’s a selfie, one he took at work around a month ago. He took it during a lull between serving, if he remembers correctly. The lighting hadn’t been awful when he was doing his hourly fringe check in his phone camera, so he’d snapped a pic. It’s nothing special, just a moody expression and a wash of pink lighting across one half of his face.

amazingphil commented on your photo

amazingphil: nice pout ;) xx

Dan falls back into the pillows, mind obliterating itself into a thousand, tiny pieces.

Over the next few weeks, Dan has several text conversations with Phil. They’re usually started by Phil himself, who will - out of what Dan assumes is boredom - sometimes send him a random meme, a musing about his surroundings, or a selfie. For obvious reasons, Dan prefers the latter.

No matter how many times Phil reaches out via text, the surreality of it never fails to send Dan’s mind freewheeling. It always knocks the wind out of his lungs, it always makes him stop dead in his tracks, and it always leaves him struggling to recover for the next few hours. Whenever this happens at work, Tyler never fails to tease him mercilessly.

“Whoops! Please excuse him, sir, his mind has been blended by a single text from his crush,” Tyler tells a customer the fifth time Dan drops a glass behind the bar.

Dan scowls at his friend, but doesn’t try to defend himself. It’s true, after all. One text from Phil has him behaving like a moron. He becomes physically inept, unable to make the simplest drink.

One night, after the bar has closed, Dan and Tyler are cleaning up.

“So when’s he gonna stop torturing you over text and come sweep you off your beer-drenched tootsies?”

Dan rolls his eyes at this. “He’s not, Ty. He’s a rich and famous superstar, and I’m clearing up puke for the third day in a row.”

Dan wrinkles his nose as he continues mopping up the patch of vomit. He’s suspicious at this point; three days in a row is unusual. Is the same person coming in each night and spewing their guts all over the dance floor out of spite? Perhaps it’s some sort of hate crime.

“It’s like a Cinderella story!” Ty exclaims, pirouetting around his broom. “Except it’s gay, which makes it even better.”

Dan scoffs at him. “I’m pretty sure fairytales don’t involve stalking someone over social media and having them find out. He’s just taking pity on me because he saw that first night that I’m a fan.” Dan dunks the mop back in the bucket, turning to Tyler. “Besides, I’m pretty sure he has a boyfriend.”

Tyler sucks in a scandalised breath. “What! Who?”

Dragging the mop back to the supply closet, Dan laughs. “Remember the drunk guy he came with? The one who gave me a lovely Rainforest shower?”

“Him?”

Dan sighs, locks the cupboard, and nods. He digs into his pocket for his phone, and brings it over to show Tyler the photo of Phil and Charlie kissing. Matt, the security guard wanders over to see as well, letting out a low whistle.

“He’s a nonce if he thinks that guy’s behaviour was attractive,” Matt says. “He puked ‘soon as I got him out the door that night. All over the pavement.”

Dan looks at Matt, tilting his head in interest. “He did?”

Tyler plucks the phone out of Dan’s hand, zooming into the photo to have a better look, a frown on his face.

“Yep, your friend there came out, called him an Uber and sent him off,” Matt says. “Doubt pukey there would’ve made it home without him.”

“Nice guy,” Dan mutters, cheeks warm.

“This is staged,” Tyler announces abruptly.

“What?”

“Look,” he says, bringing the phone back over for Dan to see.

He zooms in on the crux of the kiss, right onto Phil’s face. Dan grimaces.

“Ty, I don’t want to see-”

“Shut up and look at his face,” Tyler interrupts, grabbing Dan’s chin and angling it towards the phone. “See how his lips are puckered? All stiff and pointed, like he’s kissing his grandma. And his eyes are open.”

“He’s looking at the camera!”

“Nah, Tyler’s right mate,” Matt says. The gum he’s chewing is making gross squishy sounds right in Dan’s ear as he leans over to look. “He looks awkward as hell.”

Dan narrows his eyes at the photo, trying to see what the others see.

“Besides, didn’t you say he hated that guy?” Tyler asks, clicking off the photo.

Dan tuts, snatching his phone back. “Well, apparently he was just being nice to compensate for the fact his kissing buddy covered me in sugary cocktail.”

He makes the smart decision to step away from this preposterous conversation before he does something stupid. Like allow either of these morons to give him hope that Phil is actually single.

Not that Phil being single would even matter.

“Or he was making it clear that he’s available!” Tyler calls after him as Dan stalks over to the staff room. “He whipped his shirt off for you twice and gave you his number. Do you think he’d do that if he had a boyfriend?”

“Drop it, Ty!” Dan calls back, shutting the staff room door behind him.

He will not let himself fall into the trap of daring to believe he could get someone as gorgeous, as hilarious, as pure and… amazing, as Phil Lester.

He won’t.

This is a good philosophy, in theory.

In practise, it turns out to be a lot more difficult. Dan finds this out to his cost when Phil strolls into Habenero the following Friday with Charlie Hickory at his side. Dan’s stomach sinks as soon as he sees the pair, the butterflies that appear each time Phil so much as acknowledges exploding into dust the moment he registers who Phil is here with.

Phil makes a beeline for the bar, a big smile on his face as he sees Dan. Warily, Dan smiles back, very aware that he is not exactly Charlie’s biggest fan.

“Dan!” Phil sings, chipper as ever.

Blushing already, Dan waves an awkward hand. He will never, he’s sure, get used to hearing his name on Phil Lester’s lips. “Hi. You’re back.”

“Of course! This is my local hangout now,” Phil says, winking. “Great cocktails, cute bar staff, crazy Bingo nights… this place has got it all.”

“Some people might not agree with you about the cocktails,” Dan can’t help himself saying, glancing at Charlie.

Charlie shuffles awkwardly on the spot. “Right,” he says, casting a look at Phil. They share a look that seems loaded with something Dan is not privy to, and then Charlie sighs, turning to Dan. “I wanted to, uh, apologise. About last time. Totally not cool of me to… tell you off like that. I was wasted.”

For an awkward moment, Dan waits for the actual word ‘sorry’ to leave Charlie’s mouth. It becomes obvious fairly swiftly that the dude feels he’s already said enough, so Dan just gives him a tight smile, and clears his throat.

“Oh, yeah man,” he says. “Let’s just… move on, I guess.”

If Charlie won’t say sorry, then Dan’s sure as hell not going to say he forgives him.

“So, drinks?” Phil asks, seeming to sense the taut atmosphere. “Maybe not cocktails?”

Dan can’t help the splutter of laughter, but Charlie shoots a dagger-like glare Phil’s way. It makes Dan’s lip curl; how could anyone be angry with Phil, of all people?

“Maybe some beers?” Dan suggests, teeth clenched. “We have a load of craft beers, or if you’re more into spirits I could make you guys a-”

“I’ll have a vodka and light tonic, no ice,” Charlie interrupts. “A double. If you use regular tonic, I will know.”

“Charlie,” Phil hisses under his breath.

They exchange another loaded look, and again Charlie sighs, turning to Dan with a fake smile. “Please.”

Swallowing the urge to roll his eyes, Dan nods, then gladly turns his attention to Phil. “And for you?”

“Oh,” Phil says, like it’s only just occurred to him that he needs to order as well. “God, I’m so bad at deciding, err…”

As he’s dithering, Charlie sighs. “Are you cool to get these, Phil? I’m gonna go find us a table.”

“You don’t wanna dance?”

“Not in the mood.”

Phil nods, obviously disappointed. “Okay, yeah, I’ll meet you in the back.”

With that, Charlie is gone, slipping into the crowd. The look of distaste must be more evident on Dan’s face than he thinks, because Phil laughs at it.

“I know,” Phil says. “But he does have a few… marginally amiable qualities.”

‘Why have you chosen to be with someone that’s marginally amiable when you’re so great,’ is what Dan wants to ask. Instead, he simply shrugs, deciding to change the subject.

“Have you decided on a drink yet? I’d better get on with making his low-cal dishwater.”

Phil laughs a little, then leans forwards, his smile deepening as he leans across the bar. “Surprise me.”

Something sparks a roman candle in Dan’s stomach, and his skin prickles with the heat it creates. He drags his eyes free of Phil’s with some difficulty, nodding, and turns to make the drinks.

He prepares Phil a ‘PopQueen’ cocktail, which is one of their most popular. It’s inspired by popcorn, along with the trio of Pop Queens that rule the gay music scene: Gaga, RiRi, and Bey. The moscato vodka base is made from Italian grapes to represent Gaga’s heritage, the spiced rum is a shoutout to Bey’s favourite drink, and Riri comes in in the form of a smoky splash of passion fruit bitter. The rest is topped up with popcorn syrup, lemonade, a sprinkle of caramel popcorn kernels, and as many sparkly cocktail sticks as Dan can fit in.

He explains the whole concoction to Phil as he presents it, a little smug because he knows this is an impressive looking cocktail. It’s probably his favourite one to make; the Viniq shimmery moscato vodka makes the drink swirl and shimmer - always exceptionally pretty.

Sure enough, Phil’s mouth drops open at the sight of it. “Okay wow,” Phil says, chuckling. “I’m gonna get drunk tonight, aren’t I?”

“If that’s your plan, this should definitely help you on your way,” Dan says, laughing too. “I wouldn’t recommend having a second if you want to remember your evening.”

Phil leans forwards to take a sip of the PopQueen, moaning around the straw, much to Dan’s dismay. He plucks one of the popcorn pieces off and eats it, eyes closed. In related news, Dan struggles not to fall to the floor. “Dan, you are an artiste,” Phil says. “Popcorn is my all time favourite food.”

“Oh, wow, that’s... lucky, I guess,” Dan stammers, a swell of pride surging up into his chest. “Glad you like it.”

“So, how much?”

“Oh, on the house.” Dan smiles, sliding the cocktail across the bar along with Charlie’s vodka tonic. “I feel bad for not letting you in on the forfeit for Bingo last time.”

The look on Phil’s face softens into something so sweet Dan can taste sugar on his tongue.

“You don’t have to do that,” Phil says softly.

“It’s fine, really,” Dan assures him, all but sliding his elbows across the bar towards him. “I insist.”

A twitch in the corner of Phil’s mouth, and then he’s leaning across the bar. It happens slowly, but Dan still manages to be caught off guard. One moment, he’s watching, bemused, as Phil inches towards him, and the next there’s a light press of paper-soft lips to his cheek. A scratch of stubble grazes over Dan’s skin as Phil leans away.

“Thanks,” Phil tells him, smiling. “You’re sweet, Dan.”

And then he’s turning away, drinks in hand, slipping into the mass of people.

For the next few hours, Dan hopes for Phil to return to the bar for another round. He waits, eagerly, for this moment to come. Instead, Charlie is the one who brings his and Phil’s glasses back over, and waves to flag down Dan’s attention.

He nods in acknowledgement, finishing up the drinks order he’s in the middle of, and sidling over to Charlie. He forces a strained smile.

“Same again?”

“Yeah,” Charlie says, digging out his phone. “And a couple of vodka shots.”

He says nothing else, eyes glued to his phone screen. Dan waits for a moment before moving off, eyes stuck to Charlie’s face. He’s the kind of gorgeous that shouldn’t exist in real life. Unblemished, tanned skin. Clean, dark stubble, lacing his perfect, razorblade jawline. His hair is a swoop of glossy mahogany; even the cut of it looks expensive.

Charlie’s eyes flick up to Dan’s, obviously questioning why he’s staring, so Dan nods, embarrassed, and hurries to make the drinks. From a superficial standpoint, it’s obvious why Phil is with Charlie. Obviously, in Dan’s eyes, Phil is the most attractive man on the planet, but that’s just because he’s Dan’s type. Even he can tell that Charlie is objectively a beautiful human being.

It’s just a shame about everything below the surface level.

Dan pours the two shots Charlie ordered. “All together it’s twenty pounds, please.”

Charlie snorts, then pockets his phone at last. “Figures you’d give Phil the discount.”

He pulls out a twenty and slaps it on the counter.

“Sorry, I can’t give you guys free drinks all night.”

Charlie just stares back at him, a faint, knowing smile caught on his dusty pink lips. One of this thick eyebrows is slightly quirked, sliding an irritation under Dan’s skin. “Listen, Danny, is it?”

“Dan,” he grits.

“Dan,” Charlie says, leaning across the bar. “A little advice, yeah? Don’t be so transparent. It just comes across as pathetic.”

He downs both the shots in quick succession, baffling Dan, who is frozen, mortified, to the spot. Before his brain can thaw enough to stammer out some witty rebuttal, Charlie has swept the drinks off the counter, and is moving away.

Cheeks burning, Dan turns around, trying to calm his boiling blood. He squeezes his fists together, counting to ten, the way he makes himself after all encounters with dickhead customers.

“Hey, sweetcheeks, can we get some drinks over here, please?”

With a deep sigh, Dan unclenches his fists, and turns to the next customer.

At around one in the morning, Dan runs to the bathroom for a minute, and on his way, he sees Charlie. He’s against the wall of the club, near the DJ booth. There’s a muscular, dark-skinned man pressing him there; their faces are close. Dan can’t stop, he’s left Tyler and Dodie to the mercy of the drunks in their worst state - things get rowdy an hour before closing - and he needs to get back there. So, instead, he simply tucks the image away in his mind, to think about later on.

That man, leant against Charlie in a less-than-innocent seeming stance, was certainly not Phil, after all. As he exits the bathroom, he notices that Charlie is gone, as is whoever was with him.

At 1:55am, the lights come on. As usual, an enormous groan chants out of the crowd of patrons on the dance floor, followed by a few pairs awkwardly stepping out of the shadows, some squinting and eye-covering, and the slow, jelly-legged walk to the coat-check area.

“I think I just saw some guy getting up off his knees in the corner,” Tyler says despondently. “Shotgun not mopping the floor tonight.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Dan sighs. “On the dance floor? Really? Why can’t they suck each other off in the bathroom like normal people?”

“Oh, there were definitely people doing that in one of the stalls about an hour ago,” someone says to Dan’s right. The voice, for some reason, sends the hairs up on the back of Dan’s neck.

He turns, wondering when Matt’s voice got so low, only to find that Phil has perched himself on one of the bar stools, the dregs of his cocktail still in a glass in front of him. For a moment, Dan is too stunned at the sight of him to reply. Then, he registers that the lights are on, and cringes, knowing he likely looks frightful. Phil, of course, looks radiant as ever even under the harsh fluorescents, apart from a faint tiredness, visible in the dark circles underneath his eyes.

“You’re still here,” Dan comments. “I thought you guys had gone.”

“Charlie left,” Phil says, looking away from Dan. “Or I assume he did.”

Out of sight, Tyler catches Dan’s eye, making an obscene gesture with his hands before snickering and running off in the direction of the supply closet. Dan just glares after him, pink-cheeked, and turns back to Phil.

“Wait, he left without telling you?”

One of Phil’s shoulders moves towards his neck, then falls. “He does that.”

“Wow that’s… kind of shitty.”

As soon as the words are out, Dan regrets them. He can’t help but think of Charlie’s comment from earlier; it rings in his ears as if the guy had screamed it at him.

Don’t be so transparent. It just comes across as pathetic.

He was right, probably, though Dan had hated hearing it. He should stop being such a suck-up. It must be awkward and cringey for Phil to see Dan so obviously smitten.

Still, Phil throws him a faint smile. “It’s cool. He’s just a flaky guy. A bit of a princess. He grew up rich, so he’s always been a bit superficial. I’m trying to wring the bourgeoisie out of his blue blood.”

Dan snorts with laughter. “In my experience, you can’t filter the dickishness out of people very easily.”

There’s a silence, then. Phil regards him with a faintly curious expression.

“Maybe I’m wrong,” Dan says once the silence gets too uncomfortable. He shrugs, grabbing the rag from his back pocket and starting to wipe down the bar. “I don’t know the guy, really. I’ve just had a couple of unfortunate experiences with him.”

“Oh no,” Phil says, face falling. “What did he do this time?”

Dan laughs, bitterly. “Don’t worry about it. He’s just a little mouthy, is all.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“So, when do you get to leave this place?” Phil asks, playing with his glass. He still hasn’t drunk the remainder of his cocktail. “Or do you sleep here?”

“On weekdays, the bar closes at two, so I get out of here at around two-thirty.”

“Christ,” Phil mutters. “And I thought my job was long hours.”

A laugh bursts out of Dan’s throat, but he covers it as best he can with a cough, turning away. Busying himself with ‘dusting’ some liquor bottles, Dan tries to compose a straight face. Is Phil honestly going to try and argue that his job is difficult? When was the last time that guy ever grabbed a broom, or handled someone’s sticky change?

In a minute, Dan is going to go into the corner of the dance floor, get down on his knees, and clean up some randomer’s come. A few weeks ago he saw Phil swanning about a five-star hotel in Korea. If AmazingPhil’s worst complaint is that he had to have a few questionable outfit choices put on him, and some silvery goo in his hair, then he needs a reality check.

Nevertheless, Dan knows that he can’t say any of this. Not only would he never dream of insulting Phil Lester, but it’s pointless to try and explain the differences between classes to someone in a privileged position. They’ve usually forgotten how to understand.

“Are you close by, at least?” Phil asks, interrupting Dan’s thoughts.

Dan turns back to him. “Kemptown. It’s half an hour’s walk, more or less.”

“You walk?” Phil asks, eyebrows skyrocketing towards his quiff. “At two in the morning?”

“Five in the morning on weekends,” Dan confirms, hiding a smile at Phil’s surprise. “It’s okay, you get used to it. Besides, it’s mostly just drunk idiots chugging cans of cider and threatening to run into the sea. Not too scary.”

Despite Dan’s reassurance, the look of pity and concern on Phil’s face doesn’t subside. After a while, Dan turns from it, feeling awkward. He busies himself with clearing away the last of the empty glasses, yawning into the crook of his elbow. Tonight was rough.

“You should crash at mine,” Phil blurts.

Sure he must have misheard, Dan faces Phil slowly. “Um, what?”

“If you’re exhausted, I mean.” Phil fidgets, fingers tapping against his glass. “Like, on the nights you can’t face walking all the way home, you can totally just sleep on my sofa.”

Speechless, Dan simply stares.

“The couch is pretty comfy,” Phil continues in a ramble, not meeting Dan’s eye. “And my flat is just up the road, literally like a minute away. I’m not saying, y’know, come over every night, ‘cause obviously… that might be an issue, but you can absolutely stay round on, say, Saturday nights when you finish later. That wouldn’t be a problem.”

He’s just being nice. That’s Dan’s only explanation. Phil Lester is a sweetheart of a person, and he got so worried about the hypothetical danger involved in Dan’s walks home, that he offered something big, even though he didn’t really mean it.

Dan is a stranger to him. He needs to decline the polite offer, and let Phil off the hook he accidentally created to string himself up on.

So, Dan forces out a small chuckle, and says: “Oh, no, it’s really fine. Thanks for the offer, that’s really good of you, but I quite like the walk. It’s a nice come down after a busy night.”

Phil nods, chewing his lip. He looks unconvinced. “I’m not just saying it, though.” His voice has dropped to a lower tone. “Like tonight… you’re so tired, I can see it. Just grab some sleep at mine before you head back across town.”

As soon as Phil mentions it, the quilt of his own exhaustion flops around his shoulders, dragging Dan’s bones towards the floor. He tries to picture the stumble back to his crummy flat in Kemptown, loathing each imaginary step.

“You barely know me,” Dan says - one last attempt at refusal.

Sensing he’s won, Phil smiles very slightly, then downs the rest of his cocktail at last. “I don’t know if it’s just me, Dan, but I have this feeling that we’re going to be good friends.”

(Part 4!)

#phan #phanfic #bartender au #phanfiction

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