#seriously though that quote is gonna be stuck in me head forever. the way he says it he's so serious | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherryyjjk · 4 years ago

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soulmates?

summary: crushes were always hard to understand, friends were much easier. you were a professional in making them, you had 8 best friends! but you wondered, would a significant other make you happier?

pairing: ot8! stray kids x reader, gender neutral! crush x reader

genre: angst / fluff / mixtape: on track! au

word count: 6.5k

warnings: manipulation, fighting, little bit of cuts but not at all graphic, rejection

a/n: c/n = crush’s name, f/c = favorite color, f/f = favorite flavor of ice cream, and this gives me wattpad vibes. you can think of the friendship as platonic or maybe more, it’s up to you. this was inspired by mixtape: on track so it’ll be cute to listen to it while you read :)

School was either your heaven or your hell. There wasn’t an in between. And it’s not like for nerds it was heaven or for ‘dumber’ people it was hell. It was more complex than that, kids are more complex than that. But anyways, enough of you being philosophical and trying to prove to your teachers that people your age could be mature and kids.

You often felt like it was hell. The hard tests, the strict teachers, the competitive nature of your peers, the long nights of studying, the usual. It didn’t seem to end either, it felt like years before you could go on summer break. No pressures, just living life. But even then, it could get lonely. If you couldn’t make connections fast you were often outcast. You were scared you’d be like that. An outcast. All alone.

But you weren’t. Especially not with your friends by your side.

“Hey Y/N! What’s taking you forever?” A voice from further away whined out.

You turned your head to look away from the parking lot, up the steps in front of you, to where all your friends were waiting for you. You smiled and ran up the staircase to where they were standing. Your backpack bounced around while you were moving and you were sure that any spare papers were getting crumpled. You came to stop right in front of the person that called you.

“Sorry Felix, just thinking.” You apologized and held the straps of your backpack to ease some weight of your shoulders.

“No thoughts, head empty.” Jisung whispered from where he was standing next to Changbin and Seungmin.

You whipped your head in shock to his outburst, but you weren’t that surprised. It was Jisung, you expected no less. But it was early in the morning and you may or may not have stayed up late.

Changbin just sighed while Seungmin started hitting Jisung on the shoulder for quoting a meme. You snorted and couldn’t stop laughing at the interaction. You were really blessed to have such wonderful friends.

Out of nowhere, you felt more weight on your shoulder. Minho had come up from behind you and was resting his head on your shoulder.

You looked to the side to see his smirking face and furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. He just chuckled and shrugged his shoulders before Hyunjin came up behind Minho and did the same thing to him. Hyunjin rested his head on Minho’s shoulder and smiled and started to blink his eyes unnecessarily. You were really confused at this point and didn’t understand what was happening.

“Of course your thoughts aren’t empty, Y/N. You’re probably still daydreaming about C/N!” Chan giggled out from next to Felix while your cheeks blushed.

You tried to stutter out a reply but couldn’t even form any words. You tried hitting Chan on the shoulder but you couldn’t move. Minho’s hands were still holding onto your shoulders tightly. You tried to shake them off but couldn’t.

You looked back at your friend, “Uh, Minho? You good?” you asked confused why he was still smirking and not letting you go.

“Well, Hyunjin and I were talking—“

“—Is that why I heard screaming?”

“Shut up Jeongin!”

“Ugh, as I was saying before Hyunjin—“

“Excuse you! I was trying to help!”

“OKAY, okay, whatever. ANYWAYS! We were thinking that today is the perfect day for you to confess!” Minho finished after Jeongin and Hyunjin interrupted him.

“C-confess? Today?!” You squeaked out

“Yeah, why not?” Felix said, shrugging his shoulders.

“I guess. But seriously, why today? Is today someday special?” You questioned.

“Nope, but it’s a normal day. So it’ll be fine!” Seungmin answered from behind you.

You blinked a few times in hesitation and kept opening your mouth without saying anything.

Minho patted your shoulders and let go before saying, “Well, it’s decided! Today’s the day Y/N’s gonna confess to C/N!”

The others cheered you on while you stood there in bewilderment, thinking how you could’ve gotten such chaotic friends. The eight of them talked amongst each other while you started to panic. You had to confess, today. Confessions are no easy feat, and rejections are even worse. You thought that C/N might like you back. They were a pretty nice person and didn’t seem to be mean. They were always nice to you.

The bell rang and the nine of you split up to your respective classes. For the first few classes, you had them with two or three of your friends while the last class was with C/N.

Alone with C/N.

You gulped, already regretting everything. You regretted telling the guys about your crush the most.

_______________________________________________________________________

The last school bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and the start of the last class of the day. You said your byes to all the boys and accepted their good lucks. Minho and Hyunjin decided to walk with you to class since they had soccer practice. They could be late, they were the co-assistant captains of the team. Chan was the captain and was too indecisive to pick between the two, plus he had a soft spot for the both of them.

You talked with the two of them on either side of you. You asked them about their upcoming game but neither were excited, it was a strong team from a really competitive school. You knew they’d be fine, they practiced and played hard.

“Well, this is it. My last class, the last time I’ll see you guys. Ever. Again.” You complained dramatically.

The two boys rolled their eyes and sighed at your theatrics. They knew you were only joking around because you were extremely scared. The three of you had been best friends the longest so you could read each other very easily.

The guys didn’t blame you for trying to deviate the attention and make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. It was inevitable, being rejected by your crush would be painful and they didn’t want that for you.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. I’ve talked to C/N before, I’m pretty sure they like you!” Hyunjin reassured trying to calm you down.

“Yeah, the amount of times they’ve said you were cute made me gag.” Minho groaned, fake throwing up to show how repulsed he was.

Hyunjin was one of the softest friends you’d ever meet and he always took care in his words. He wanted to comfort you and cheer you on, just like you would with him. Minho has a soft heart too but it was often hidden. He liked teasing instead of comforting and it was helpful in its own way.

You thanked Hyunjin and hit Minho on the shoulder, reprimanding him for the gesture. You thought it was sweet! C/N must definitely like you, the boys were right.

You’d be fine.

“Okay, well I gotta go. You guys should too! Chan can only excuse your lateness so many times.” You said, while waving goodbye and waking into class.

The boys looked at you while you headed into class. Once inside, the looked at each other and started walking to the field while talking.

“They better not break her heart.” Hyunjin spit out of the blue, very unlike him since he wasn’t usually this angry.

Minho wasn’t fazed though, it was you. The both of them treasured you and their friendship with you above most things so when you were going to confess, they were worried. You were a precious part of their lives since the day they met you in elementary school as little kids on the playground. You had brought the two of them together, two extremely introverted boys whose parents hated each other.

But somehow, you had made them open up and that’s how they met the rest of Stray Kids. You had moved during elementary school and they had only met you again now in high school. Minho and Hyunjin had introduced you to the rest of the group and the rest was history. You eight were stuck at the hip.

Minho sighed, “Agreed,” He fidgeted with his straps and looked out the windows in the hallway. The park on the other side of the school reminded him of all the wonderful times you had and he wished he could go back to when the three of you were little kids.

He finally decided to change the subject by asking, “Do you wanna race to the field?”

Hyunjin stopped, and Minho stopped in reaction. Hyunjin rose his eyebrows at his best friend to challenge him. Minho scoffed and rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. The boys didn’t need to talk further to know what the other was thinking.

In a matter of seconds, the boys were sprinting towards the field while the bell rang in the background.

_______________________________________________________________________

You walked to the last row, by the window. Since your class was on the second level, you could look out the window and see the entire schoolyard. It was your favorite seat and you were so thankful that you had picked it on the first day. Your desk partner was C/N, that was how you met them. They were always asking how your day was going or just genuinely interested in what you had to say.

You arrived to your seat and sat down while putting your backpack on the back of your seat. You removed your class items from your bag and placed them out on your desk. You looked to the notebook on your desk and hissed at the way the papers were crumpled from that morning.

“Well, I didn’t take you for the type to ruin their notebook.” A voice said to you, making you look up to the speaker.

It was C/N. They were looking at you with a small grin on their face and one of their eyebrows raised in question. They were keeping their hands in their pockets and their backpack hung on one shoulder.

Your cheeks flushed pink and you looked down to try and hide the fact that you liked them so much. You took the notebook into your hands and tried to flatten it out without any luck. You signed loudly while C/N looked at your hands.

Their smile dropped and they rolled their eyes at your efforts before smirking.

They walked up behind you and placed their hands over yours and tried to flatten it again. Your heartbeat picked up and you stared up at your crush. They looked so pretty while trying to help you out. You looked to their soft lips and your cheeks heat up even more. You couldn’t take it anymore so you looked out the window next to you while C/N kept trying to help you.

You were trying to not feel their hands on yours and looking for something outside to distract yourself. Your eyes kept shifting between things outside until you saw the soccer field. Right in the middle stood Chan, Hyunjin, and Minho in their soccer uniforms. They were all smirking and laughing, while the rest of the team were confused at their actions. Undoubtedly, they had been watching your interactions with your crush.

You glared at them and were going to yell at them to stop until a loud voice from the front of the classroom voiced that class was starting. C/N let go of your hands and they instantly felt cold. They pushed out their chair and sat down next to you. They didn’t look at you while you stared at their side profile.

You quickly realized that you must have looked like a creep and stopped. You tried not to think about how close C/N’s hand was to yours on the desk or how the three boys outside were watching this entire situation fold out.

Throughout the lesson, C/N would brush their hand over yours and you would feel your face get hot. They never looked at you when they did, and they also seemed annoyed today but it was probably since this class always felt the longest.

The class dragged on for another hour and a half before it almost came to the time you would be let out. You started packing up your belongings while C/N did the same next to you. You looked out the window and saw that the boys were walking back to the school building with their equipment. For a split second, you looked at Hyunjin who coincidentally looked up too.

Hyunjin made eye contact with you and flashed you a smile. Minho saw the smile on his friend’s face and looked up to see your figure waving at the boys. He bumped Chan’s shoulder to make him look up as well. Chan and Minho looked up again to see your smiling figure and both mouthed ‘good lucks’ while Hyunjin gave a thumbs-up.

You smiled at their gestures and did a small and shaky thumbs-up before looking back at the front of the class. Your teacher was wiping down the board when she looked up to the clock. She told us that we could leave on the bell today and left the room. The class started talking amongst themselves while you and C/N stayed quiet.

You tapped C/N’s hand for their attention, and they turned their head to face yours. You were looking right ahead because you knew that you wouldn’t be able to look at them without blushing again.

“C-could you wait after class? I need to tell you something.” You stuttered out while your cheeks were warm.

C/N didn’t say anything but they nodded. They looked back at the other classmates before getting into a conversation with other few people. You were too occupied of thinking of how the next hour would play out and kept rehearsing what you would say to see what C/N was doing.

You were scared out of your mind, thoughts about their rejection all over the place. You hoped that they liked you and if they didn’t, at least they would be kind about it. C/N had been nothing but kind to you but it seemed like today was their off-day. But you were already committed to today and you weren’t going to go back on it.

The school bell rang and the other students quickly rushed out the room. Some people were slower than others, trying to wait for C/N, but eventually left when they waved their hand.

At long last, you and C/N were the only two in the room. You stayed rooted to your seat and were fidgeting with your hands. C/N grabbed your hands and looked to you.

You looked back up to them and blushed again. Gathering all your strength, you calmed down and decided to start.

“Okay, well you’re probably confused on what I want to tell you, right?” You asked hesitantly, and C/N nodded.

“Let’s go to the front of the room.”

Before you could continue, they made you stand up with them, and the both of you walked to the front of the class while your back faced the door.

You started clutching onto your backpack straps and rocking on your heels in nervousness.

You sighed and started to speak with blushing cheeks, “O-okay, well. I l-like you. A l-lot. And I’ve had a crush on you for a while, I’m s-sure you know that though. I’m pretty obvious. Um, y-you’re really kind and s-sweet and I-“

C/N started to laugh. At first it was small and barely there until it became full blown snorts and wheezing. To rid of the awkwardness, you started to chuckle too but not knowing what for.

C/N kept laughing for a few more seconds until they forcefully stopped themselves.

“Oh wow, this is just too good. I knew you were easy, but confessing in two months? Dang, I must be good.” They said arrogantly and wiping their eyes as if they had tears from laughing so hard.

Your smile dropped. Your eyes widened and you stood in shock. You couldn’t believe your ears.

Did C/N really say that?

You were shocked that your crush had just called you easy, it was insulting.

They looked at your confused expression and calmed down. With a cocky attitude and a smirking face, they answered your silent question.

“You see, Y/N. I never liked you, at all. Not even one bit. But, a friend of mine said that she’d give me 20 dollars if I could make you fall for me.”

Tears sprung from your eyes while you tried to hold them back. Your fist clenched and your nails dug into palms. You were shaking and you couldn’t even look up to face them.

“I would say I’m sorry but honestly, it was entertaining. Seeing you shy because of things I did, I couldn’t believe it! I couldn’t believe that the girl that’s friends with the famous Stray Kids was so easy—“

“S-shut up! Stop it, C/N.” You whimpered out while you kept wiping the endless tears from your eyes.

Your heart was broken when the person you liked so much had said you were easy. It was disgusting to even think about. But you wouldn’t let them put down you anymore. You knew your worth, you had finally found yourself after the help of your eight best friends. You promised them you would be strong and defend yourself. No matter how much you had liked C/N, you wouldn’t let them be mean anymore.

“I-I don’t care anymore, o-okay? I don’t care about you, so just drop it!”

C/N snorted and shrugged. They looked behind you and their eyes lit up with amusement. They looked back at your shaking figure and scoffed.

“You don’t care about me? Fine, keep lying to yourself. I know how hard you fell for me. But that might have been a lie, judging by how sweet you are to your precious Stray Kids. But anyways, I have other people that are way more interesting than you. So leave.”

You gathered your last bit of courage and self-respect and stormed out of the room. You kept your head down when you opened the door because you knew who was outside. The girls that had bullied you last year, the ones C/N kept hanging out with. You should have known they were trouble when you saw them talking, or probably flirting, with everyone at school.

You had finally dealt with them a couple of months ago by yourself and they had gotten suspended for starting a fight afterwards. They rolled their eyes when they saw you crying but didn’t say a word, they wouldn’t risk getting suspended again. After turning the hall, you ran down the stairs and out of the school, not really looking where you were going.

_______________________________________________________________________

At the front of the school, the boys were all waiting for you, they had heard from Chan, Hyunjin, and Minho that you were confessing.

They were pretty excited that their best friend would now be dating someone. You had always wanted to go on cute dates and have a valentine and such. The boys couldn’t really help with that but they tried to make their hangouts at cute places they knew you would like.

They had even made last year’s Valentine’s day special. All the boys had pitched in and bought you cute ‘heart shaker’ keychain. It was a F/C-colored resin heart that had jewels inside which made a noise when it shook and you had instantly clipped it on your backpack to always cherish the day.

Jeongin heard that noise when you came down the steps from where your class was. He smirked and straightened out his uniform before turning around and away from Chan who he had been talking to.

He smiled, put his hands on his hips and asked, “So, how’d it—“

Your backpack bumped into his shoulder while you ran and Jeongin stumbled back in shock. The other boys were confused on what happened but you keep walking faster away from them. Your head was down and the boys didn’t know why you were acting like this.

Jisung ran up to you and hugged you from behind as it was the only way to stop you from running away from the boys.

The boys moved around you while you had your head down. They started asking questions of what happened and why you were running before Jisung yelled at them to stay quiet.

He could feel you shaking when he first hugged you and it became worse with all the commotion. He knew how suffocating it could be to be around so many people at once. He knew that being quiet would help, but you still weren’t answering any of their questions.

They waited a few moments until they heard your sniffles and whimpers. They all got worried and some started to get frustrated.

Who hurt their Y/N?

Jisung carefully moved his arms to your shoulders and slowly turned your body to face his. He lifted your head up and all of their hearts broke to see the tear stains on your cheeks.

He gently wiped the oncoming tears and asked, “Hey, hey, what happened?”

You couldn’t answer in clear words and broke into louder sobs into your hands. Jisung comforted you by bringing you into his chest, and awkwardly patting your back.

Minho and Hyunjin were obviously fuming. They didn’t know what happened but they knew whoever made you cry would pay. They wouldn’t let whoever hurt you get away so easily, even if it suspended them again like when they defended you against those bullies. They hadn’t told you, wanting you to think you were strong enough to defeat them, which you were! But they still had taught them a lesson.

Chan and Seungmin, usually the calmer ones in the group started talking about how they would get back at whoever did this to you. They tried talking about telling adults, but decided against that.

Felix and Jeongin where hesitant to add their advice to the conversation but started talking about how they could tell C/N to get their help.

From this statement, your body went stiff and your cries increased.

The boys were talking about C/N as if they were a good person and you realized that they still thought of them as one. You were scared that they would think of them as a good person even after everything that had happened. You knew they weren’t but it scared you that your best friends might not believe you.

While Jisung was comforting you, Changbin realized that there wasn’t much that they could do. None of them were really good at comforting people, usually that was your job when someone got hurt. He saw you go stiff and your cries get worse when the boys were talking about C/N and realized that something was wrong.

He made eye contact with Jisung who was a little nervous, as he didn’t really know what he was doing, and Changbin opened his arms slightly.

Jisung slowly let go of his hold on you and whispered into your ear that Changbin wanted to hug you. You nodded your head, and you wiped your eyes with your sweatshirt cuffs and the other boys stopped their conversation.

You slowly walked towards Changbin’s arms and fell onto his chest. Changbin held you softly and started to rub your back in comfort. Your head was on his shoulder and your eyes were closed. The tear stains on your cheeks weren’t going away but your sniffles were getting less and you seemed better.

As the other boys looked at your state, they grew disheartened. How would you come back from this? You seemed so lost and hurt that it was breaking their hearts piece by piece.

You slowly lifted your head from Changbin’s shoulder and looked up at him before looking at the others. You sniffed once more and patted your sweater cuffs to your face to get rid of any tear marks or drool.

“I-I’m sorry..” You softly said, while looking down at the pavement.

Immediately, Seungmin went to comfort you by patting your head, “Hey, there’s nothing to be sorry about. You’re sad and it’s our duty to comfort you as our best friend.”

You chuckled and smiled up at him. Your eyes were shining with emotion and you thanked him for being so kind.

“Hey, why don’t we go get some ice cream? It might cheer you up.” Changbin offered, while taking your hand and rubbing it.

Everyone looked around and agreed. Ice cream always did the trick to cheer someone up, maybe your situation would be the same.

You laughed lightly and the others’ hearts tightened. Even in distress you were able to smile and it was one of the many reasons they loved you so much.

You nodded your head and started walking with your backpack still hanging from only one shoulder. You brought the other strap to your other shoulder when it was taken away altogether.

Felix was holding your bag on his chest and his own on his back. He looked at you and smiled, saying that it wasn’t a big deal. Chan behind him complained saying that now he had to carry Felix’s equipment bag which wasn’t fair.

The eight of you laughed and you realized that you had a perfect group of people that loved you right there. C/N might have made your heart flutter sometimes, but they had nothing on the pure joy you felt with being with the eight of them.

You don’t remember exactly how or when you had become friends with the infamous “Stray Kids”. They were well-known to cause trouble and yet you had somehow made them into the lovable and caring people they are today. But you realized that you didn’t really do anything. You just showed the school who they really were, past the name and reputation they had.

It was nice, being there in that moment. But of course, your life didn’t work that well. You knew that you’d have to tell them what happened and so you tried to calm down your breathing before starting to talk.

“S-so, what happened was that-“

A loud laugh cut through your statement and the nine of you looked to see where it was coming from. You saw C/N and your former bullies walking in your direction before noticing you. They laughed even louder and started to mock you.

“Aw, Y/N went crying to her boyfriends, huh? Must have hurt when you realized that I just did that as a game,” C/N said while his own gang of ten laughed behind him.

You looked away and wiped your cheeks more vigorously to hide the fact you had cried so much. You usually didn’t cry at school, you didn’t want people to think you were a baby or weak, not that crying is! You knew that but sometimes people were just mean.

The boys looked at your figure and started to realize what had happened. They were all upset and understood that C/N had broken your heart. They couldn’t believe that someone they had considered a friend would do this.

Hyunjin’s eyes sharpened and his fists clenched. He was looking downwards but you knew what he was thinking. You could feel the tension in the air and how all of your friends were angry at what they had just said. You also knew they would protect your name before theirs. You loved them all but you didn’t want them to get hurt or punished for something that didn’t concern them.

Minho looked questioningly at Hyunjin but knew where he was coming from. Hyunjin looked up to his friend’s face and they both understood what was going to happen. All of them couldn’t leave to fight C/N’s group, it would leave you alone. They had once thought of plan incase you ever got into trouble and it seemed this was the time to use it.

You didn’t understand what was going on but you kept seeing the boys glance at each other and nod. You knew that no one would tell you what was to happen because you would disprove, you hated violence..

You walked quickly through the boys until you stood behind Hyunjin who was closest to C/N and your bullies. You looked up at him and tugged slightly on his sleeve.

He closed his eyes and calmed himself down before looking softly at you. His eyes weren’t as harsh and he had a small smile on his lips. He patted your head and rubbed your shoulder in comfort.

“It’ll be okay,” He whispered, before turning around to Minho behind him and saying, “You should take her for ice cream. Leave this to us, yeah?”

Minho smirked at Hyunjin’s request but didn’t question it. He patted him on the back and looked reassuringly to the others before nodding. Chan tossed your backpack to him and he gave it to you. You quickly put it on, not understanding what was happening but doing it anyways.

Minho glared at C/N and their group before grabbing your wrist and walking quickly away from the scene. You were surprised at his actions and followed him until you looked back and saw both groups taking off their backpacks and rolling up their sleeves.

You tried to stop and yelled out, “W-wait, what are they doing? Minho, what’s going on? Minho! No, don’t let them fight, p-please!”

Minho wouldn’t let you see them fight, you always cried when you saw them hurt and it broke their hearts even more. He wrapped his arms around you to prevent you from running back and slowly moved back. You tried to resist by flailing your arms and you looked to where the boys were standing, Hyunjin in the middle. You stared at the back of his head, trying to find a way for him to see you and stop fighting.

Hyunjin felt your stare on the back of his head. He turned around and looked straight at you. You had tears in your eyes and you so looked helpless. He didn’t want you to feel that ever again.

He smiled at you before turning around and advancing with the rest of the boys.

You tried to yell out and see what was happening but Minho came in front of you and blocked your vision. He screamed at you to stop and just go with him. You stopped crying and were surprised by your friend. Minho didn’t scream at you unless it was serious.

You begrudgingly agreed . As much as you wanted to stop them, you knew you wouldn’t be able to.

The two of you ran down the stairs and across the street to your favorite ice cream shop. You didn’t stop running until you got right in front of it and sat down on a bench. You were breathless and couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your cheeks once more. You desperately tried to wipe them away but they just kept coming.

Minho sat down next to you and looked at your shaking form. He wished that he could take away all the pain in your heart and keep you happy. He wanted you to be happy.

He slowly removed your arms from your face and you looked up in response. You didn’t think that you cried nicely, but you looked pretty to Minho.

He rubbed your cheeks to stop the tears and held your face in his hands. He stared into your eyes and sighed.

“You really have bad luck, huh?”

You scoffed and tried to stop the smile on your lips. You knew Minho wasn’t the most outwardly affectionate person so you were confused why he was trying so hard to comfort you. You were confused why any of the boys were fighting right now, for you. Your expression must have given away your thoughts because Minho flicked your forehead in annoyance.

“Hey. Don’t think like that, we all care about you. If you get hurt, we all get hurt!” He said a little loud, and rubbing where he hurt you on the forehead. He kissed your forehead and you hummed in agreement, looking downwards.

This was the usual treatment from Minho. He always teased you and then held you tighter. It was a weird thing but you loved it nonetheless.

Minho stood up and pulled you up with him, walking into the store. When the two of you got to the register, he asked for two F/F ice creams and payed. You both took your ice creams only to drop them when you went outside and saw it occupied by six familiar faces.

“Guys!! W-what happened to you?” You worriedly called out, while running to the bench and looking between them.

Most of them looked okay, but all of them were scuffed up. Chan had a long cut on his forearm, Felix’s hair was messed up, Jisung’s blazer was nowhere to be found, Changbin’s sleeve was ripped, Jeongin was breathless, and Seungmin had scraped his elbow.

Minho came up behind you with a few paper towels and wash cloths from the ice cream shop and handed them out. You gently washed each of their cuts and scrapes while berating them for not being careful. You were thankful they hadn’t gotten more hurt, it would have probably scared you too much. After everyone was cleaned up, you realized that someone very important was missing from the group.

Hyunjin.

Where was he?

“Uh, guys? Where’s Hyunjin?” You asked while the rest of them started to stretch and walk about.

They all looked at each other and were quiet for a few minutes. They were fidgeting with their clothes or the rags before Minho’s patience ran thin.

“Hey! Where is he?” Minho screamed at them, getting angry that he didn’t know where his closest friend was.

Jeongin looked at the both of you before answering, “We don’t really know..? We were all fighting and Hyunjin yelled at us to run. We didn’t understand so we didn’t leave, and then we saw that more of C/N’s friends had come. So, Hyunjin told us to run again and he yelled some insults at them and..” He looked at the others before lowering his head and continuing, “he led them away while we ran. We really thought he was with us! But when we looked back, we couldn’t see him.”

Your eyes widened in shock and you tried to form a complete sentence. You had to find him, and fast. There was no telling what those boys would do when they cornered him. You steeled you’re nerves and looked at all of them.

“Well? What are we waiting for, let’s go save him!” You said in fake annoyance, and the rest of them chuckled before agreeing.

_______________________________________________________________________

It didn’t take you too long to find him. But with Hyunjin, you also found C/N and their friends. They had all surrounding Hyunjin at the end of a hallway when you found them.

“Hey! Back off.” You shouted at the them, at the beginning of the hallway with the rest of the boys behind you.

C/N and his friends looked at each other and stared at you while you walked towards them. You stood right in front of Hyunjin, faced them, and stretched your arms in a protective stance.

“I said, back off.”

“Why you little—“

“She said back off, losers.” Seungmin said from behind you. He and the rest of the boys had walked with you and they were all protecting Hyunjin who was on the floor, beat up pretty badly.

C/N scoffed and rolled their eyes, before looking right at you. Their look was anything but kind and they radiated annoyance. They continued to glare but you didn’t back down, not now, not ever. You cared more about Hyunjin than C/N and it would always be like that.

C/N sneered at you and your friends before walking away. C/N’s friends all looked at each other before following their leader. The group kept walking to the exit and slammed the door open. C/N paused in front of the door, and turned around.

“All for $20? Fat chance, loser. Hope you and your friends are happy.” They said and then spit at the ground in front of you.

Chan started to move in his direction before you quickly grabbed on his arm and stopped him. He looked down at you in confusion before seeing your glare at C/N. You shook your head and dropped his arm.

C/N turned around and left with his group, slamming the door afterwards.

When they finally left, you breathed out a large sigh and put your hands on your hip. You were so tired from everything that had happened but you were glad that it was at least a Friday so you weren’t plagued with homework to do.

You looked back at Hyunjin who was on the floor, only to see him staring right at your figure. You walked up to him and crouched down to his level. You saw a bad bruise blossoming on his cheek while a nasty cut on his eyebrow.

You patted his head and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m okay. Well not really but it’s fine. Though, I did think for a split second I was a goner.” Hyunjin answered while the rest of the boys laughed.

You chuckled and looked into his eyes. They seemed to have lost a spark, but you knew it wasn’t permanent. No matter how strong Hyunjin was, the entire thing must have scared him. He didn’t like violence and almost never took part in it so this was new.

“Well, I’m happy to say that you aren’t and that you’ll be okay. That cut on your eyebrow will probably be a scar.”

Your words caught Jisung’s attention and he couldn’t help but add, “Dang, now you’ll be even more of a heartthrob!”

You all laughed again while you pulled Hyunjin to his feet and Minho came up to you. He patted Hyunjin on the back before twisting his ear.

“Huh? You thought you could be a hero, huh?! Don’t be dumb! Don’t go into a fight alone, that’s what we’re here for!!” Minho reprimanded while Hyunjin clutched his ear in pain.

Hyunjin apologized and Minho let go. Hyunjin’s ear was bright red and he kept rubbing it to ease the pain. The nine of you walked out of the school to see that the sun was barely setting. The boys grabbed their backpacks they had left at the front and you all walked to your community.

It was nice being in the same community as your best friends, you could walk to each other’s houses all the time! Not that you did, most of them were too lazy to meet up and would rather just be on a nine-way call.

But you liked it.

You liked being with your friends. You realized that you didn’t necessarily need a romantic life at the moment, not when these eight boys could make you smile and laugh until your cheeks hurt.

It was a wonderful feeling.

And they felt the same with you. Having such a wonderful influence and person as their friend made them better people. They didn’t look for attention anymore and barely ever got into fights! Except if it was for you.

You were their best friend. And they were yours. Sometimes, platonic soulmates are real.

And when you walked home with them that day, you truly believed that you had been blessed with eight.

37 notes · View notes

sergeanttpoliteness · 5 years ago

Text

➹one love confession, please➹(peter b. parker x reader)

The sad and divorced man who’s become a regular for the past year is constantly spilling his emotions to you, his favorite bartender. This wasn’t something new; you can’t count with both of your hands the times you’ve heard someone recount the odyssey of their life. But these flutters in your stomach were definitely something you didn’t experience with your customers, and you definitely did not end up making out with them at the end of the night. Maybe Peter B. was your only exception, though.

(PART I)

word count: 12.3k (oof)

warnings: cursing, alcohol, and mentions of sex (let me know if i missed something!)

a/n: it’s five am where i live and this is already awfully long so i’m gonna make it as brief as i can. first, i’m sorry it took eight months, but at last, it’s here, and i’m so happy and proud of it ! thank you a million times for the amazing support this story got, seriously. second, this was also for @connorshero 1.6k followers writing challenge, and i can’t express enough how ashamed i am that it took so long lmao, i’m a clown. it’s here, tho, and i hope i hear your thoughts and that y’all enjoy it (:

taglist: @fanbase-jumper

Never in a million years would you have deemed possible a human could undergo through such a crushing feeling of dread, yet, sadly, you found yourself to be wrong, for there you were, a pressure smothering your lungs and an iciness washing over you. You never would have imagined yourself hiding in the bathroom from a certain Peter B. Parker, either; but then again, contrary to your previous thinking, there you sat on the closed toilet seat, your eyes squeezed shut, breathing heavily as a frostbite in your heart eclipsed any other thoughts in your head.

For the last few days, you had tried to repress a memory which physically pained you as you worked at the bar, almost as if it were nothing more than a bizarre dream you had one night, or a movie you watched as a little kid and couldn’t figure out as a grown-up whether it was real or not. It didn’t take long before in your restless little brain, that date did not exist in the calendar. So… strange, how all of sudden you couldn't remember anything from that night. Yeah, nothing happened. There’s no reason or possible explanation as to why you nearly dropped dead to the ground every time the entrance opened, or why your lower stomach erupted like a geyser refusing to rest whenever you caught a glimpse in the mirror of the bruises on your neck and, just maybe, somewhere in the back of your head, recalled how they came to be in the first place; how the small vessels burst, why they’re there. Your self-induced amnesia surprisingly worked. Yeah, like a charm. Until you looked up for the billionth time and it wasn’t another false alarm. The fortress of protection you constructed collapsed as if it took no effort to build it, because there he was— there stood Peter, just a few feet away from you.

Of course, you panicked; hysterically searched your surroundings for an excuse to leave, but no one wanted to bother you when you most needed it. Terrible luck, indeed. You only had two choices (although, really, you most likely had more): you could be, you know, smart and face your problems, or, Peter, to be more concise, or you could run away to hide and wait it out in the bathroom. So, after analyzing it thoroughly for approximately two seconds, what did you do?

Get the fuck out of there, obviously; you threw your towel, sped out of the bar, and instantly headed to have the meltdown of the century in the bathroom.

You screamed into your hands as you relived everything in your head, stomping your foot on the floor tiles. Remorse didn’t suffice anymore to explain the sharp pain in your stomach. You’d sabotaged yourself— you got a nip that night, a morsel of something greater, a catalyst for ‘what if’s and a total loss of self-control, because once the temporary high didn’t satiate you any longer, you’d seek it again. Regardless of your constant imbecility, you weren’t oblivious: it was nothing more than a distraction for Peter’s troubles and conflicting emotions over a woman he’d married, and it would never mean anything to him. It never would, despite how much it meant to you.

Suddenly, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You pulled it out, narrowed eyes reading the recent message while your heart went ballistic.

‘You can’t stay there forever, he’s starting to get suspicious.’

You breathed out, partially relieved. It was your friend. You texted him earlier as you lost it in the bathroom stall, as one does. You were close to getting on your knees and start praying to any superior entity that he was simply imagining stuff like most of the time, attempting to read in between the lines when, in reality, all Peter did was drink his whiskey served over ice, totally unconcerned. Yes, perhaps, you running away didn’t signify ‘subtle’, and the fact that you two hadn’t shared a word or texted ever since you fled his apartment a week prior didn’t brighten the situation at all. Why should it matter if you chose to continue escaping your issues? You could stay there forever, and it was no one’s business. The bar’s urine-scented bathroom could be your new home.

Your phone rang again. ‘Dude, c’mon.’

Goddammit.

Your friend shouldn’t have the power to knock some sense into you with just two messages, but he did anyway. You required an abundance of courage you did not carry to hesitantly walk out of the stall, and then the bathroom. You were sure your heart could hop out of your chest, as gruesome as it may have been, at any moment as Peter’s figure came closer and closer to you with each dreadful step you took. It wasn’t as dramatic in real life, most likely (most definitely). But as if you finally understood your situation, the charisma awakened from its sleep and, in an instant, you let out a disappointed ‘aw!’, replacing your terrified features with an exaggerated pout. “Oh, man! Somebody else already took your order? Unbelievable.”

He reacted as though he overheard the most unbelievable noise— a call from God itself or extraterrestrial life, because he could’ve gotten some whiplash by the way in which his head jerked up.

Peter cleared his throat, unsure of what to do with his hands as he showed you a tight-lipped smile. “Uh, hey! Hey…” He exclaimed and you winked at him. “I thought you weren’t here, or something.”

You thought for a moment. For real this time. You couldn’t say ‘I was just having a breakdown in the bathroom’. “Nah, my boss just needed my help… with stuff,” You waved your hand, aware that your boss had left an hour ago. He hummed and nodded, downing his shot. Wait. Your eyes returned to his glass when you fully took it in. It wasn’t whiskey served over ice.

You pointed at the empty drink in his grasp. “What’s that?”

He glanced down at it, raising a brow. “What, you’ve never seen a shot of vodka?”

“No, no, I mean— yeah, but what the hell happened to your whiskey?”

Peter pressed his lips together, shrugging one shoulder. “I dunno, guess I just… got tired of it?”

The corner of your lips tugged down momentarily. “Ah, I see…” You distracted yourself with a glass, cleaning it despite its already pristine look. You just needed anything to focus on other than Peter. “This is so tragic, your whiskey days have come to an end.” You joked, laughing quietly and disguising the aching in your chest.

He tilted his head, quirking an eyebrow and grinning a confused smile. “What’s wrong with vodka?”

“It’s just… so boring.”

An incredulous grin stretched across his face. “More boring than whiskey?”

Your smile faded, a frown taking its place. “I… I’m guessing I had just grown used to it— I don’t know.”

For the first time in a whole year of weekly meetings and ongoing chatter, an uncomfortable silence sat amongst you two. And for the first time, too, you did not know what to say. “Y/N?” You looked up at him attentively, although you did not want to hear what he had to say at all.

Peter avoided your gaze, instead focusing on his lap, and opened his mouth, closing it when you couldn’t think up any words. “I think, uh… we gotta talk, right? About… y’know.” Your face heated up as red as a field of roses.

You laughed nervously, your hands on the bar as you slanted forward. “...About what?”

“Just, about what happened, and that thing you said the morning after—”

“Did I say anything the morning after?” You cut him off, wishing you’d stuck with your plan of moving into the bathroom.

To your horror, your biggest fear unfolded as Peter let out air through his nose, chuckling without humor.

“Are you gonna try to convince me it was a dream again?” You nearly passed out as Peter cited the words you so vividly remembered uttering. “‘You’re just dreaming?’” It all came back to you, everything— your forced memory loss received a fatal blow as memories bombarded your brain: Peter’s face twisted with puzzlement and sleep after you blurted out your utter nonsense and— how could you forget, oh God, how could you— the cherry on top, your uncomfortably intense five-second staring contest as you headed for the door and dashed out of his apartment.

“‘Wake up?’” He continued and you merely blinked back at him. He didn’t need to fucking quote you and remind you what a joke you were— who does that? But also, who tells the guy you just hooked up with that he’s dreaming after he caught you in the midst of trying to sneak out? B-B-Bingo! Of course, of course it had to be you out of all people.

You stood frozen, like you did that embarrassing morning, begging your head to stop it with the callbacks and breathing out. “What if it was a dream? You never know.” You said, unwilling to give up your idiocy. Peter stared at you, his lack of amusement terrifying you further.

“A dream.”

“Yeah.”

He rubbed his face. “Jesus Christ, Y/N—”

“What?”

“Stop acting like an idiot, please.”

“Peter, you literally could’ve brought up anything else other than this.” You hissed, exasperated. “Any other fucking thing.”

“I can’t not bring this up.”

“Well, why not? I surely can.”

“‘Cause it was weird.”

You grimaced and covered your face with your hands, muffling your words, “Oh my God, I know, I fucking know. What did you want me to do—”

“I don’t know, maybe just talk, you know!” He suggested with raised hands, the harsh sarcasm in his voice deepening your pained expression. “Wh-why did you even say that?! Like—”

“I didn’t want to be there! I just wanted to leave, okay?!” You admitted loudly, uncaring of your blatancy. When you didn’t hear him, your shaking hands slowly unveiled your face. A man two seats away eyed you two as he drank, while Peter stared at the counter with knitted brows, digesting what you said.

“Do you wish it had been a dream?” He asked quietly. You began to tap your finger, your lips shaping the words you wanted to speak, but didn’t exactly know how to.

“No. That’s not it, I…” You croaked out. You couldn’t continue when you noticed what you thought was a flourishing desire in his eyes which you saw that same night back at his place. Just say it. Your fingertips thudded the wood faster, your feet shifting, voice stuttering. Say you’d do it again.

“It was just a one-time thing, right?” You whispered. Then, you doubted if that lust had simply been a delusion your brain fabricated. That, perhaps, you yearned for something bigger so badly you’d projected your own silly cravings onto the man, for all trace of that weakening glimmer was now nothing more than the familiar amity the always held.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Right.” You breathed out.

“It was just a one-time thing.” He repeated as if it were obvious.

“Yes.” You both nodded, unable to look at each other straight in the eye without squirming. As soon as some clients called for you, you shared a last glance before you left. When you returned, all you found were some crumpled dollar bills and no sign of Peter.

You didn’t buy him a gift. And neither did he, but he did send you a message saying, ‘Merry Christmas!’, and there exists a possibility that you broke down crying whilst drunk because of the smiley face he wrote along with it, but that’s something you wouldn’t ever disclose— even if it happened one more time during New Year’s Eve as your head pounded with the people around you religiously blowing their party horns. That was it, though. You didn’t see him at the bar, which a part of you could only be thankful for, but the remaining kicked itself for not fixing things when you had the chance to. For not being honest when you could have.

Your friend yet again with his wisdom from the gods told you to stop wasting time and move on with your life, albeit not as kindly, as if saying it in such a way wasn’t hurtful enough. However, after being too sensitive for two seconds, you sucked it up and knew that he was right.

You managed to keep Peter out of your thoughts most of the time, focusing on your job and getting additional money with your paintings to treat yourself. You could go out more with your friends, buy a new TV, maybe save for the vacation you’d been dreaming of for the past years. For some time, as there was no Peter in your head nor at the bar, it was just like before the man nearing his forties and with a really, really nice nose sat down in front of you.

You could only maintain him out of your orbit for so long, though.

You sat at another bar two blocks down your place, hunched over and your eyes glued on your cell phone’s screen, anticipation pulling imaginary strings connected to your fingers which fidgeted, tossed the device from hand to hand. Your friend was the fourth person you texted in the last thirty minutes, an act born from desperation, perhaps; created upon an urgency for an anchor, a quick fix that would momentarily patch up the heaviness in your chest that made an unwanted visit too many times to your liking and dissipate all the thoughts in your head. You needed something, a distraction, anything— hell, you’d even texted your boss, a known shopaholic, asking if she wanted to go shopping. But everyone appeared to be doing something that night, too engaged in their own affairs to remember you. It was selfish, you understood, to think that way; they had lives, after all. Nevertheless, that selfishness was a blemish you couldn’t vanish as the three dots emerged, followed by the exact same message you dreaded: ‘Can’t tonight, I’m with dad. What about tomorrow?’ There was no tomorrow, though. No, you ached for it right now, in that instant, something.

Peter.

No. You couldn’t. Another decline was a final blow you couldn’t withstand, anyway, especially from him. However, you weren’t the one making the decisions anymore. Your heart manipulated your limbs, and in a blur, you’d searched his contact. Too soon to your liking, you heard that tedious beeping, your heartbeat then the sole noise in your ears once it halted. All of a sudden, you couldn’t talk, your words lodged in your throat, because it was strange to hear that voice again and it was too much for you right now.

“Y/N? Are you there?” Peter said after you didn’t make the slightest sound, hesitance evident in his tone, for he wondered whether it’d been an accidental butt dial. You took in a big breath and pressed your phone closer to your ear, your elbows aching from the hard counter they rested upon.

“...Hi.” You scrunched up your nose, shaking your head at yourself.

“What… what’s up?” It was odd, you both knew, because when did you ever call each other, and when was the last time you two talked? But turning a blind eye to your friend’s advice, you itched to fulfill your own cravings that night— it didn’t really matter what kind, but just a friend was all you needed, just someone.

You stuttered for a while, internally grateful he remained silent and waited for you to clear your mind. “Nothing. That’s why I’m calling, I guess. Just wanted to talk.”

“To talk?” You could hear the engines of driving vehicles in the background and you frowned, scratching the back of your head.

“Sorry, are you busy? I didn’t mean to bother you. I can call another time—”

“No, no!” He stopped you, your heart growing wings, fluttering and capable of flying out of your chest with how gentle he sounded. “I just got done with something and I’m going back home, you don’t have to hang up.”

You hit the tip of your shoes against the bar, tense brows still not relaxing. “Oh, okay…”

“Are you at work?

“No, my shift ends at a normal time on Friday’s, thankfully.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I see— so you’re home alone and bored?”

You observed the place around you, focusing on the bartender and then on your drink. “Eh, not exactly.” You closed your hand into a fist, struggling to not dissect the skin around your nails like an animal in a biology class. “I know this is unusual, we never really talk outside of the bar and we haven’t seen each other in a while, but…”

“It’s kinda our first phone call, isn’t it?”

You smiled, your lip trembling. “Y-Yeah. Our first phone call.” You almost cursed when your voice wavered.

“Hey, you alright?”

You sighed, scratching your head. “Not gonna lie, I’ve been better.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“It’s stupid, I don’t know. It’s a Friday night— everyone’s out having a good time, and I’m just… here, in a bar and on my own.” You shrugged, your nails carving the timber.

“It’s not stupid.” He murmured and you snorted, unconvinced. “If it makes you feel any less alone, I’m not exactly out partying and having a good time, either.”

“Do you even still party, grandpa?”

“Just ‘cause I’m old, it doesn’t mean I still haven’t got the moves.”

“It definitely sounds like you don’t.”

“Don’t sound so sure, you haven’t seen me at my best.” Seeing him wasn’t necessary, you could easily imagine his teasing grin.

“Hm, yeah, I’d immediately take off my clothes if you pretended to lasso me at the club.” You both giggled and you hugged yourself, glancing at the empty stool beside you, biting the inside of your cheek. “Do you maybe want to come and have a drink with me?” You shot your shot, to your thumping heart’s dismay. Guessing by the click you distinguished, he probably just got back home.

“...Have a drink with you?”

“J-Just to hangout, you know.” You quickly explained. “Chat for a while. I can pay, if you want.”

You waited for a response, a rejection. But it didn’t come.

It was quite embarrassing, to say the least, that after he agreed and you hung up, you almost dropped your phone with how the fright weakened your arms as you tried to send him the bar’s address. You eagerly waited, too, like a damn puppy anticipating its owner’s return at the end of the day. Using your phone’s selfie camera, you checked your appearance, tidying up all just to make yourself look way more put together than you actually were, even if you were in a bar, alone, and, well, drinking. Despite your awaiting, though, you were taken off guard when a man chose to settle down beside you and cleared his throat.

“I gotta say, it’s weird to see you on the other side of the bar,” Peter smiled as a greeting. Your eyes scanned him, taking in his presence, struggling to process it as if he were a ghost. In your defense, it did feel as if he hadn’t been part of your world for the last two months.

You chuckled, shyly moving your view to your beverage. “Sorry, I won’t be playing bartender tonight.”

“Too bad, I like it when you give me free drinks.”

“Technically, you still are getting free drinks from me tonight.”

He huffed, a crooked smile lingering on his face. You called for the bartender and side-glanced at Peter, quietly asking what he wanted and biting back a disappointed grunt when it wasn’t whiskey served over ice. Whatever. It was just a drink. You two didn’t share a look after that small interaction, though, your face flustered, redder than the bartender’s awful and painful-to-look-at-from-how-bright-it-was shirt. You preferred to believe it was the alcohol, regardless of the truth that you hadn’t drunk that much yet. But your skin burned since he was there, and suddenly, the last disastrous meeting you two experienced replayed way too loudly in your head, the scorching sensation only spreading further and gaining more vigor with the possibility that it did the same in his, too. The unspoken and evident discomfort was enough to make you assume that it definitely was on his mind.

You made the effort to spark up a conversation with the dreaded small talk. ‘How have you been?’, ‘Anything new?’, ‘The weather’s been pretty cold lately, huh?’— blah, blah, blah. Nonetheless, neither of you had more to say other than short, boring responses. It became so unbearable, you knew the only way you could get through this night— seeing as you couldn’t leave after he’d just gotten there— depended on your current and whoever many you could afford future drinks. Quite an alcoholic mindset, perhaps, but there was no way you were the only one or that Peter didn’t have the same wish as you.

Holding your third drink, tispy thoughts pressed you to climb out of the hell you were in. You turned your body to face him, nudging his leg with your foot. He’d been paying attention to a wildlife documentary and an animal hiding from its predator before he lifted an eyebrow and nodded at you. “What?”

“Where have you been?”

A crease formed between his brows as he found it hard to differentiate this question from the one you asked earlier. “I told you, I haven’t really been up to much—”

You shook your head. “That’s not what I asked. Where have you been?” Peter pursed his lips, contemplating.

“New York.”

You hummed, bringing your drink up to your lips. “Okay. So if you were here, how come I haven’t seen you since, uh—” You pretended to count in your head, tongue poking out of your mouth as you summed with your fingers. “—December?”

“I was busy.” You narrowed your eyes.

“I thought you hadn’t been up to much?”

“I… haven’t,” Peter said slowly, too far in to escape the contradiction. You bit your lip before finishing your half-empty drink all in one go, head spinning, the weight in your stomach drawing you down to the Earth’s core.

It’s difficult to perceive the line between overthinking and legitimacy. It’s so fine and faint, like a message written with chalk in the middle of the neighborhood’s road that can only be deciphered if you stare at it long and closely enough after the days have passed by and the rain showered upon it. On one side, the message was nothing more than scrawls and nonsensical letters, an unnecessary distraction on the road disrupting you from reaching your destination on time. But then, there was the other side: the truth. A truth that, funnily enough, you reached by overthinking in the first place. Which was what occurred when you suspected the reasoning behind the lack of Peter in your life could be pinpointed to the man purposefully avoiding you; and, right now, grasped that, after all, it wasn’t just another case of irrational overanalyzing.

“Do you hate me?” You blurted out, your eyes going round with the disappearance of your filter. Confusion overflowed Peter’s head and spilled into his expression, adorning his face.

“Huh?”

“Do you hate me—”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time. Where the hell did that come from, though?”

“You’ve been ignoring me.” You stated the obvious, visibly hurt. Peter denied with his head the misconception, sighing.

“It wasn’t intentional.” He assured you not just with his words but his gaze, too. You pressed your lips together, not fully convinced.

“Was it not?” You asked with a small quirk of your mouth. He stared at you, embarrassment crawling across his skin.

“Alright, maybe it was.” He admitted sheepishly. You let out air through your nose, turning on your seat.

“So you do hate me.”

“Y/N,” Peter called for your attention, although he knew it was half-joke. You returned your attention to him. “If I hated you, would I be here, sitting next to you?” He questioned, motioning around him. You shrugged one shoulder, a grin growing on your face.

“I don’t know, maybe you’re just being nice.” You said and he groaned jokingly, sporting his very own lopsided grin.

“I’m being nice because I like you.”

Your smile fell for an instant, but you put the expression back up, reminding yourself that, once more, it didn’t go further than platonic. “Good. But you were mad, then.”

“No, not exactly.”

“You left without saying goodbye last time.”

Peter frowned, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I did. Sorry.” He apologized, the sincerity interlaced in his voice worsening your state. You wanted to place your hand on your chest, as you diagnosed with your zero quantity of medical knowledge that you had a high chance of having a heart attack before the night came to an end.

“I’m sorry, too.”

“Why?”

“Well,” You placed your chin on the palm of your hand, moving your eyes elsewhere. “First, for being a dumbass back when we hoo—”

“You know what? You’re fine.” He interrupted you. “Save yourself some time.”

Your brows snapped together. “But—”

“You were right. Let’s just not talk about it and move on, alright?” He waved his hand, grabbing his drink. “If you do talk about it, I think I’m actually gonna get up and leave.”

You laughed, nodding. “Ah, I see. So that’s why you’ve been ignoring me, then?”

His actions halted in the midst of taking a sip. “Maybe.” He answered vaguely.

You rolled your eyes. “You can’t just run away from your problems, Peter.” You pointed out like the hypocrite you were, particularly after that was exactly what you were doing not too long ago. Peter, unaware of this, however, had to admit you spoke the truth as he rubbed his nose with his knuckles, grumbling.

“You see, you say that, but I’m still gonna continue doing it.”

“No, you’re not, because we’re going to discuss this like adults—”

“As an adult, I’m telling you that all is good and I’m over it.” He finished with a warning tone you couldn’t take seriously and you giggled. “Next topic.”

“Okay, grandpa. Sure thing. All is good.” You grinned, the ice in your heart melting off as he copied your countenance.

“For real this time.”

“Yeah. For real this time. Can I be honest with you, though?” Peter waited for you to go on, paying close attention, his gaze soft. You stared at him for a moment too long ‘till your eyes moved to your hand now feebly holding your empty drink. “I missed you. Kind of. Is that dumb?” You mumbled, your voice small.

You couldn’t properly see him, but through your peripheral vision, you didn’t catch any movement. That’s when you prepared to scream ‘sike!’ to his face— a real-life undo button to delete the emotions you couldn’t take back and shove down your system anymore. However, it felt… good. For once, it wasn’t spilling your guts out and regretting everything as you attempted to cram your organs back into you; you had plucked out a thorn that’d been hanging inside the palm of your hand for far too long. It was liberating. And you peered up at him, expecting that relief to be temporary, but his tender features didn’t let that happen.

“...No. I missed you, too.”

You both smiled.

The conversation began to flow. Words started to spill, and although you weren’t at the bar, you enjoyed that exact same security and blissful buzz. You realized then— a revelation that did not help your case— the location didn’t play an important role, and perhaps it never did; bar or not, if Peter was there, you’d still feel stupidly and overly content. Your worries faded away as you two caught up with no drop of MJ’s name, but some lingered anyway, because change was inevitable, looming over you. Laughter left your lips, his hand rested close to yours on the counter. You noticed, but couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, to walk away from the euphoria tainting your body. More liquor entered his, over time you stared at his mouth one, two, three, four seconds too long as you became intoxicated along with him, and so did he with yours.

“C’mon, tell me.” You pouted for an instant, interchanging it for a drunk smile. “Your secret dies with me.”

Peter slammed his fifth drink down, cheeks tinted pink. It was wrong, indeed, to take advantage of his condition and try to get out of him something you’d wanted to know for the longest time, and that he kept to himself as if it were government classified information. In your drunken brain, it did not seem too far off. Perhaps he went on outrageous underground missions. You laughed at yourself. Peter didn’t seem like a spy-type of guy. Unless…

“Do you, like, work for the government?” Peter screwed up his face at your absurdity.

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

Peter opened his mouth, a giggle escaping. “I can’t.” You dragged your stool closer to him, as you weren’t close enough already. Actually, when did you get so close? It didn’t matter. You analyzed his face, hoping that somehow, if you looked at him long enough, you’d gain the ability to read minds and crack into his. Peter drew his lower lip between his teeth, studying you like you were the most interesting being. You didn’t know why, but you felt tempted to move that strand of hair that always hung in front of his forehead away from his face. As any rational person wouldn’t, you did, your thumb brushing against the barely visible scratch that started the conversation in the first place.

“What are you thinking?” You questioned, brimming with interest. He went crossed-eyed as he tried to follow your hand.

“About stuff. Whatcha thinkin’?” He asked back, his view traveling down to your lips. You bit your lip.

The closeness, your full-blown pupils, the actuality that you could lean closer to him and you’d meet his lips. It all seemed too familiar. And so you wondered, if you did move and kiss him, if you stopped resisting and glanced down at his lips, too, what would happen?

“I don’t know. What does it look like I’m thinking?” You asked, lowering your voice. The stench of alcohol should have been enough to stop you both from advancing any further, but Peter licked his lips, smirking.

“It seems to me like you wanna fuck me.”

You gasped, hiccuping. “Oh, my! I didn’t know this part of yours, Peter B. Parker. Is it just the alcohol speaking?”

“Maybe. But is it true?”

“What?”

“What I said.”

Your upper body swayed closer to him, tired, dizzy, and wishing to lie down. You gripped his shoulder and helped yourself add some distance, your other hand landing on his knee. “Maybe.” You simply said. Your eyes remained interlocked into one another, your hand running up his shoulder to his neck, and then all the way up to the back of his head, sensing his goosebumps. “Maybe…” You repeated as your touch on his knee traveled up his thigh. Peter took in a sharp breath, his hand unconsciously wrapping around your wrist.

You couldn’t help it anymore. You leaned in and captured his mouth in a rough kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. Pull away, a voice said in your head as you felt his tongue momentarily slide against your bottom lip. Pull away, the nagging voice went on and you did, shaking your head.

“I told myself I wouldn’t let this happen again.” You whispered, yet your mouth came back into a messy kiss, even messier hands craving touch. Breaking glass startled you two apart and you looked down, sighing when you saw your drink’s contents all over the ground. “You owe me a drink.” You panted, your lips swollen.

Peter scoffed, his half-smile blurring your vision as he tilted his head towards your ear. “Nothing has to happen if you don’t want it to.” He said, mouth ghosting near your cheek despite his words, yearning to continue. You pecked his jaw, lips resting against his hot skin, careless about the other customers in the bar.

“I do want something to happen, though.”

You both ignored the conversation your sober selves had. ‘It was just a one-time thing, right?’. Peter slammed your apartment’s door closed whilst your lips were still connected, your hands clumsily coming down to try to unbuckle his belt. ‘Yeah’. His own hands aided yours, the clinking of his belt buckle speeding up your heartbeat as if it weren’t already dangerously fast. ‘It was just a one-time thing’. Peter groaned into your mouth, tasting like liquor, like something you’d both regret the next morning but did not care about the consequences, even if it was a lesson you’d already learned. Not at the moment.

But nothing happened.

You couldn’t recall much the next morning. The first proof that it didn’t go further from a make-out session was that you woke up in your bed, alone, and wearing the same clothes as the previous night. The second evidence you gathered when you barged into your living room and there slept Peter on your couch, his appearance also identical to the one in your hazy memories. He didn’t remember anything. As you struggled to cease your trembling legs, he simply laughed and asked if he got so wasted he had to crash at your place. You shrugged and smiled, still capable of tasting his lips and vividly feel his hot breath.

From then on, you avoided drinking or being too exhausted to have any common sense when you were around Peter. One day he invited you to go out and have a few drinks again, to ‘repay’ you, and to which you responded as calmly as you could that you had other ‘plans’; other plans that, truthfully, were faker than the disappointed expression of yours that followed. Then, as if you couldn’t ever reach a state of peace, he asked again a month later, and you had no other choice than to invent a faulty reason for why you didn’t feel like drinking that night, the next night, or the one after, even if, according to all the drunk stories you’d recounted to him in the past, you never really turned down a drink or the opportunity to get inebriated. Guilt poisoned you when he never brought up the idea after that, fingers crossed that he didn’t get the impression you didn’t want to meet him in other circumstances other than the bar; regardless that that’s exactly what was going on. Every other night after he helped you with closing the bar, you’d also nod goodbye at him and stand in the middle of the sidewalk, waiting until he turned around the corner so your feet could dreadfully carry you to the subway station, your now-unfixable car present in your head like an aggravating piece of gum that stuck to your shoe.

Nothing could be more vexing than this, though.

Eventually, you began to wonder. Perhaps, yet again, you were as weary as that time you slept with Peter, seeing as you couldn’t think straight, almost as if you’d suffered from a concussion and all your neurons died, to your utmost dismay. But there was a dissimilarity: the unfortunate detail that, unlike physical fatigue, mental exhaustion wouldn’t pack its bags and wave farewell after a night-long sleep. Not when immediately after you woke up, the same worries still found their home within your head. So your imagination took it as an initiative to force feelings and schemes onto you, ones which involved the stomach-churning plausibility that maybe, just maybe, Peter liked you back and you could happily come clean. You had to laugh. But then you really started to wonder.

You needed at least six reasons to follow through with it. First. He was the one who made a move months ago. Second. He wasn’t drunk. Third, you listed in your head, you kissed. Again. And, fourth, this time he might have been drunk, but if he did it both as a sober man and a drunk one, it had to mean something, right?

You were struggling to distinguish the line between overthinking and legitimacy again.

You went to work that day, decided, the fifth reason simply being that you couldn’t get him out of your head, but the sixth reason missing. A truck landing on you would probably do the job, you thought. You didn’t mean it whole-heartedly, of course. But, apparently, the universe didn’t know about sarcasm and how it worked since, an hour after the thought passed through your head, it sent you a nice little gift and Spider-Man just so happened to get in a fight near the bar and an actual truck broke through the walls of the pub.

“I can’t fucking believe a truck landed right here. This is why I hate living in this city so much,” You scoffed, holding a towel wrapped around ice up to your bruised forehead as you observed the gigantic hole where the truck happily invited itself into. Peter barely reacted to your comment, too focused on disinfecting the wound in your arm. You pulled the makeshift ice bag away from your head, screwing your eyes shut. “I’m starting to get a headache from how cold this is, can I—”

Peter grabbed your hand and forced it back up to your forehead, shaking his head and focusing again on your arm. “No, trust me, it will reduce the swelling.”

“Should I be worried that you know so much about injuries?”

“I’m just trying to help.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, looking down at your lap. “I know. Thanks.” You smiled, recalling the urgency in his voice after he called you, saying he’d seen what’d happened on the news. He moved on to the gauze and began to bandage your arm, making sure his movements were delicate lest he hurt you more. “I met Spider-Man, though. I think I can finally die in peace.” You caught the way the corner of his mouth lifted upward.

“Really? Did he apologize for almost killing you?” Peter grumbled, accepting the scissors you offered him to cut the cotton fabric. You released a huff of air, admittedly offended and immediately going to defend the masked superhero.

“He didn’t almost kill me, it was the other guy. Bad guys, you know? They’re everywhere.” He huffed. “He checked up on me and offered to take me to the hospital, though. Pretty cool guy.”

“And why didn’t you say yes?”

You contemplated his question. “Stranger danger.” You shrugged. Peter laughed softly, muttering ‘fair enough’. “It also wasn’t necessary. I didn’t want to interfere with his, uh… superhero duties…”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. “Isn’t making sure you’re okay part of his duties?”

“I guess, but I’m fine, it’s no biggie.”

“Y/N, you could have died.”

“But look at me,” You patted your torso, then holding your arms wide open. “I didn’t. You’re making it sound much worse than it actually was.” Peter ran his hand through his hair, exhaling tiredly.

“Whatever,” He said, hesitance showing through his eyes. “I just think the guy should be more careful. His job is to protect the people, not to… hurt them.”

You scowled playfully, kicking him lightly. “Dude, fuck off, don’t talk shit about him like that. He’s Spider-Man. Give the poor guy a break.” He didn’t say anything, though, stirring your concern as you realized he seemed off since he first arrived. “Are you okay?” You inquired, frowning.

Peter glanced up at you before rubbing his face. “Yeah. It’s just been a long day.”

“Every day is a long day when it comes to you, isn’t it?” You joked lightly, nudging him a second time. “You helped me, now let me help you. What’s up?”

He moved his head from one side to another. “You’re always helping me.” He said almost as an apology, smiling sadly. You smirked back, standing up from your seat next to him to jump over the bar. You grasped an empty shot glass, checking no small debris had made its way into for the sake of Peter’s health (now, that’d be a hell of a lawsuit) before you slid it towards him.

“It’s my job as your bartender.”

He peered down at the glass and then up at you. Chuckling defeatedly, he took ahold of it, and you read it as ‘ah, the hell with it’ as you reached for the bottle of vodka. “I fucked up.” He whispered while you poured the liquid.

You screwed the cap closed, your eyebrows lifting high. “How come?”

Peter placed his head in his hands, nose crinkling. “I, um… talked to MJ?” And just like that, your mood took a fall as well, an inaudible ‘oh’ fleeting past your lips. “It’s the first time we talked in a long time.”

“...And?” You asked anxiously, folding your arms across your chest. Peter clutched onto the shot of vodka, watching the liquid dangerously reach for the edge of the glass after he slowly tipped it.

“Well, she’s trying to move on.” Surprise crossed your face. “And I was so distraught by it for the rest of the day that I really fucked up at work.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“That maybe I should move on, too.”

Your arms fell down to your sides. Maybe you really did hit your head too harshly, you thought, as your body started to feel heavy and you had to support yourself on the bar, for all this information you were hearing at once was colliding against you more vigorously than the pieces of wood which fled towards you earlier. Swallowing to bring moisture to your throat, you continued with the million-dollar question pestering you.

“What’s stopping you?”

You regretted uttering the words, something you seemed to be doing too much to suit your taste as of lately. However, Peter, although the question troubled him the same way it did you, clasped his hands together and you studied him whilst he went through every thought in his head and through every feeling, seeking an explanation he himself needed to know as well.

“I’m not sure if I want to. But I know that I have to.” He finally breathed out. You leaned forward, not satisfied, needing to hear more and more even if it’d hurt, because nothing was more vexing than this feeling.

“But you love her,” You said matter-of-factly. Silence. Your heart pounded rapidly enough you could sense it in your head. “Right?” You asked, embarrassed by the apparent desperation in your tone.

“Huh?” Peter snapped out his thoughts, blinking up at you.

“You love Mary Jane?”

He bit his lip as he went back inside the isolated room of his brain after only just sneaking his head out, evidently growing stressed. “It’s okay,” You brought him back out, sacrificing your curiosity as you gently smiled at him. “You don’t have to answer.”

Peter exhaled thankfully, downing his shot. “What’d you wanna tell me earlier, anyway?” He asked expectantly, his voice scratchy from the liquor. Oh. Yeah, right. Plans might have changed an hour ago, yet for some reason, you still wanted to come clean to Peter. However, right now, after hearing about Mary Jane, you forgot about the sixth reason and remembered why you never did in the first place after all this time.

“Do you… want to go get a drink?” You cursed your imagination for not working when it was necessary. Peter’s forehead creased with astonishment as if he never thought he’d hear that sentence again (in his defense, though, it’s exactly what you were planning to do).

“You finally wanna go and get a drink?”

“Hey, just be glad I’m feeling like it.”

It was an understatement to express you were feeling like it.

You continued searching for that sixth reason for the next weeks, even if the entire world knew that after you found it, you’d keep your lips sealed. Your friend put your friendship at risk when, during your September lunch with your boss, he couldn’t resist but telling her about your ‘secret crush’, saying he simply did it for a third opinion, but neither of you gained no new eye-opening advice for your boss dragged on about how Peter could be ‘the one’, which honestly worked in scaring you away from the topic. One day after, as you couldn’t fall asleep, you deliberated the reasons why you should forget about Peter.

One. He’s your friend. Your really good friend. You liked him being your friend. He’s funny, a nerd, and you could talk to him forever, even if it was merely absolute nonsense. Two. He’s a lot older than you. Not that eight years mattered that much, but it could. You were just entering your thirties whilst he was nearing his forties. Even if he’d made it clear kids weren’t his cup of tea, he could change his mind. You weren’t ready to settle down yet, despite most people reminding you the clock was ticking and you should start considering it.

Three. The iconic Mary Jane Watson. Peter’s ex-wife whom he loved dearly. He might have not talked about her since he mentioned the idea of moving on, but you knew it was easier said than done. If you opened up, he could shut you down and reveal he’s still in love with MJ. Or worse, if you two did wind up dating, he could decide to leave you for her. Four. Your friend helped you with the fourth one. He had yet to tell you about why he’s bruised most of the time. It admittedly awakened the cynicism in you, for it could be something which had the potential of putting you at risk, or get you killed. Plus, if he did not want to give you an explanation, it meant he didn’t trust you enough.

Five. You couldn’t lose him. You already almost did. Your absurd crush could be the last straw and get rid of him for good. If that was the case, then you’d do anything to muffle your heart singing its love songs when he crossed your mind or simply stood in front of you. You’d do it, even if it’d hurt.

Again, you couldn’t come up with a sixth reason. You established, then, that whichever reason you uncovered first, would be the final word. Your friend knew both a sixth reason for why you shouldn’t forget about Peter and why you should that, trying not to influence you any further, he kept to himself; it being clear in his head which one he hoped you’d find first.

It was another Friday night. You’d just returned home after wasting your money on some restaurant that definitely was not worth the price (goddamn New York) when your phone blared its ringtone in your pocket. Your heart clenched as you read the name and were about to answer immediately, until you stopped yourself. Counting eight seconds in your head, your thumb slid across the screen after you got to the last number and picked up the call. “Peter?” You were audibly and justifiably perplexed— why has he calling you at… you checked the time— ten P.M,? It may have not been the first one anymore, but phone calls were still a rare occurrence between you two.

“Hey! Are you busy?” His breathing was heavy, which made you wonder what he possibly could’ve been up to before he called you.

You opened your apartment’s door and blindly searched for the light switch. “No, I just got back home, actually.” You muttered, and then voiced a victorious exclamation when the room lit up in front of your eyes. “Why?”

He inhaled profoundly. “Cool. Great. Yeah.”

You guessed the barely distinguishable quiver in his voice could be defined as uneasiness as you sat down on your couch’s armrest, squinting.

“Is everything okay?”

“...Yeah. Yeah!” He repeated, firstly too quietly but now with faux confidence. “I needed to talk to you.”

Ah, hell. You had one important question and one only: when would you get a break from confrontation and those words? The last time you and Peter ‘needed to talk’ didn’t exactly go as smoothly. That in mind, your organs plummeted down into an expanding black hole in your stomach as you brought your fingers up to your lips. “I’m all ears, as always.” No, not really, but you didn’t exactly have any other choice.

“Okay, okay. Um, I, uh… what am I doing?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“I wanna say sorry in advance.”

You tilted your head. “Why?”

You could solely hear what sounded like wind. “You’re not gonna believe me, so just, just look outside your window.”

The black hole having devoured the contents in your system, you raised to your feet and sped to the window, not capable of painting in your head a single picture of what in the heavens the man could be planning. You unlatched the lock and glided the window upward, your head gradually peering out. Your eyes went as big and round as the full moon glowing above you when you saw it.

You stared dumbfounded, close to pinching yourself to do a reality check. It had to be a dream. A strange dream. There was just no way. No fucking way, it was absolutely impossible. It was beyond the innumerable existing possibilities that Spider-Man looked back at you, stuck against the wall. Similar to someone’s lack of subtlety, it couldn’t have been any more evident. You didn’t even need a big brain or to think, to analyze deeply as if it were a riddle in a newspaper. Because it was just right there in front of you, plainly obvious and transforming your blood into ice: the phone he held up to his face.

“Hi…” Said the masked hero. And so did Peter through the phone call.

Your phone slipped from your grasp, yet you didn’t glance down at it. You continued to gawk at the man as he flicked his wrist and saved not only your phone, but simultaneously also your bank account from having to spend hundreds of dollars on a new one. You did not mutter a thanks, let out no relieved sigh when he gave it back to you. You just stared.

“I know I’m pretty cool to look at, but can you please say something?” He laughed nervously. Ignoring him, you took a step back and retreated your head, eyes close to falling out of their sockets. The phone in your shaky hands rang a second time and you answered without needing to look at the contact.

“H-Hello?”

“Hi.”

“Peter, what the fuck.”

“I’ve done this so many times but I still don’t know what to say.” He groaned to himself. You put your hand on top of your head, disbelieving.

“Get in.” You abruptly ended the call and plopped down on your couch, clutching your stomach, blinking furiously after black dots uncontrollably twirled in your vision. You heard a thump, the floor shaking slightly; however, you didn’t turn around to look at your guest, instead focusing on the wall in front of you. It wasn’t until the cushion beside you sank with the man’s weight that you blew up. “Holy shit.” You cupped your face with your hands, laughing out of pure shock. “Holy shit… holy shit!”

“Don’t freak out.”

“How am I not supposed to freak out?!”

Peter— Spider-Man shrugged, his white lenses wide. “I don’t… I don’t know.” He admitted.

You scanned his mask, the mask you’d become familiar with after seeing it so many times on TV and pictures. Somehow, however, regardless if you knew that mask and the person behind it, you couldn’t believe its authenticity. “Take off the mask.” He didn’t move or respond. “Please.” You begged.

You first saw the stubble. Then his lips. Then his crooked nose, and soon, those eyes. The whiskey eyes. Peter’s whiskey eyes. Your hands wound up on his broad shoulders, and for some reason you yourself couldn’t work out, it just dawned upon you how muscular they were. Your eyes came back to his face. Yeah, that’s Peter. That’s Peter B. Parker. Peter Parker was Spider-Man. All the revelations crashed against you quick, glass shattering in your head, everything suddenly making sense. The bruises. His constant fatigue. Everything.

“Peter… oh my God.”

“I know I-I kept this from you for a really long time, and I know it’s hard to fully digest it, but I did promise I was gonna tell you one day.” He said, the corner of his lips twitching. But you weren’t smiling— all the terrible fights you’d watched on the news throughout the years flashed in your head, going all the way back in time to when you first discovered Queens’ brand-new superhero as a seven-year-old.

You gasped, covering your mouth. “You’re telling me you’ve been at this since you were a fucking kid?”

Peter let his mask drop to the carpeted ground, his back sliding down the sofa’s backrest. “Since I was fifteen, yeah.”

“Peter…”

He grimaced at your concern. “I know it sounds sad, but it’s not… it’s not that bad.” He promised you, but you couldn’t take him seriously. You picked up your legs, sitting cross-legged and playing with your fingers as you continued to go through your racing questions.

“I used to look up to you when I was little.” You revealed quietly. Peter scoffed, grinning playfully.

“What, you don’t anymore?”

You shook your head vigorously. “I do. Shit, I still do. I never thought I’d meet my childhood hero the way I did, though.”

“Sorry I’m just a sad, old man.”

You rolled your eyes, prodding him with your elbow. “You’re so much more than that.” All humor fled his expression and he shut his eyes, throwing his head back.

“Am I? I constantly feel like I’m letting everyone down.” He huffed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he spoke. There it was, of course; he couldn’t talk about Spider-Man in a non-degrading way.

“You’re fucking Spider-Man!” You exclaimed, not accepting his utter bullshit, but he was willing to accept it as he peeked one eye open to look at you.

“I know, you always say that.”

You gave up in trying to change his mind and shifted closer to him, copying his position, unable to focus on your view of the boring, mundane ceiling; so you turned your head to see Peter getting lost in the white square. “You really didn’t have to tell me. This is a big secret.”

“It’s alright. I trust you.” You were glad he kept staring up as you felt the blood rush to your face.

“You do?” You asked, your chest warm, illuminated with glee. Peter glanced at you, nodding nonchalantly.

“I mean, yeah. I really do.”

You turned your face away from him, your muscles close to tearing from how big and proudly you grinned. “Spider-Man trusts me.” You hushed to yourself.

Peter breathed out, exasperated, his eyes fluttering closed again. “Stop.” He pleaded, laughing himself nonetheless. You bit your smile back, moving to sit straight in what your friend liked to call your ‘parent worried about their kid’ sitting position.

“I guess I was right for worrying, huh?” You smiled sadly, taking in the severity of the situation. He poked his cheek with his tongue, shaking his head.

“I don’t want you to worry.” He sighed. You snorted.

“That’s dumb. You’re saying you’re always putting your life on the line? Of course I’m gonna worry.”

“Well, I worry about you, too.”

“How come?”

“If you’re close to me, then you’re putting your life on the line as well.”

You frowned, squeezing his arm to comfort him. “No, don’t say that.”

“Y/N, it’s the truth, though.” He fully sat up to turn toward you, his eyebrows furrowed. “It’s the worst thing about this. How many times have the people I care about gotten hurt? All ‘cause of me?”

You remained speechless. Moments later, he placed his hands flat against the sofa, preparing to stand up. “Y’know, I get it if you want to keep your distance from now on. I actually think it’d be a good—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” You warned him, expression stern. “It’s stupid.”

“I almost got you killed that other time—”

“You didn’t almost get me fucking killed, for Christ’s sake!”

Peter’s jaw tightened and he ran his hands through his hair, that strand of hair falling back in front of his forehead. “Whatever. You can’t be so sure, anyway.”

You pressed your lips together, knowing that he was right. You nervously placed your hand on top of his. “Can I hug you?” You asked like a child, giving him a half-smile. Peter looked down at your hand before his eyes moved to you.

“Sure. Y-Yeah.”

You wrapped your arms around him, hugging him hard, your eyes squeezing shut. You felt him slowly embrace your waist, scared of underestimating his strength. “I’m glad you told me. It must have been really hard.” You murmured against his chest. He chuckled humorlessly, his cheek on top of your head.

“You have no idea.”

“I’m gonna be here for you no matter what, okay? Whether it’s to vent or for some weird spider shit. I…” Love you. “You’re my friend, dude.”

After he left that night, you’d never been more conflicted about your feelings. It was a conundrum; a whole headache-inducing brain-teaser. You’d striked out the fourth reason why you should forget about Peter, the original five down to only four, but you still searched for that sixth— now fifth reason. As if it didn’t scramble your brain enough that it left you dazed and your thoughts impossible untangle, Peter unknowingly joined the game with the objective of rattling you up more.

You noticed he didn’t disappear without notice ever again, and if he did, he didn’t leave you hanging, rather he sent you a text the day after with an entire clarification. Then, you caught onto the increasing meter of his touchiness: new and unexpected hugs, holding your damn hand— although that only happened twice, but still. Your overdramatic friend didn’t even need to point it out.

One Saturday, he sat down in front of you, and before you could greet him, he surprised you. “One whiskey served over ice, please.” He smirked. You gaped at him, laughing, face astonished.

“What’s up with that?” He shrugged, grin never disappearing.

“I dunno, I guess I missed it.”

You never thought you’d continue hearing ‘one whiskey served over ice, please’ ever again. But you did.

This year, you did give him a present for Hanukkah and Christmas. A painting of one of your favorite photos of his that he showed you one day; a day you so vividly recalled, for he asked you to come with him to take pictures of an exhibition at a museum, and you accidentally broke a statue after you leaned against it in the attempt of doing an extravagant pose. To your surprise, he gave you one, too: a photo album with pictures from that day, and a message that read, ‘Merry Christmas!’, accompanied by a smiley face. In the blink of an eye, it was New Year’s Eve again, except that this time, you and Peter were talking.

You came out of the party’s bathroom, unable to tear your gaze away for the fourth time from Peter’s New Year’s Eve message, until you bumped into someone and had to force yourself to pocket your phone. You lazily swayed to the music, your vision blurring out, turning it harder to find your friend amidst the people. While your body was there, all your five senses working perfectly, feeling the heat from the enclosed space, the music vibrating in your chest, the smell of alcohol and smoke fixed in your nostrils, your mind lived in December 20th. December 20th being last Monday: a date that continued to echo in your head, the entirety of the day playing from the beginning until the pitch-black hour of midnight. It played, played, played relentlessly, exhaustingly. December 20th, it continued, a stupid date that your drunk self could not let go of.

You distinguished your friend in the crowd, comfort kissing your body and your tired legs guiding you to him, until you moved a person aside and saw the full view of his lower body grinding against a girl all over him. “Ah, fucking gross,” You groaned, pushing the unlucky same guy as you took a turn and headed for the glass door leading out to the balcony.

You firstly bumped into the door thinking it was open, but successfully slid it open and made it out into the winter weather, the city more awake than ever twenty minutes before the New Year. But you weren’t focusing on the future. No, you held onto last Monday, gripping it so tightly it hurt, hanging onto it as if you’d be nothing once it left. You stumbled towards the bench to your left, falling defeated on it. December 20th. You turned on your phone, squinting down at the screen, eyes struggling to focus through the brightness. Last week. You opened your contacts and without hesitation called a number, bringing your phone up to your ear, humming along to the beeping whilst you awaited for the person to pick up.

“Hello?” Peter said. You hung up, eyes wide. What the fuck were you doing? You didn’t answer your own question, though; you pressed the button to call again.

“...Hi?”

You ended the call a second time, growing frustrated with yourself. Having finally made up your mind, you called him one last time, jumping when he answered in what appeared a worldwide record-time. “Y/N, what the fuck—”

“Peter! You answered.”

There was a short silence. “I did.” He agreed, undeniably puzzled. You slumped against the wall, muffling your dopey laughter with the palm of your hand. You could hear… ah, wait. You could see, not hear, his face in your head with no problem: his furrowed brows and narrowed eyes.

“How are you?” You wanted to hear about his day. What had he eaten that day? What had crossed his mind? Hopefully you’d made an appearance at least once. That’d be nice.

“I’m good, thanks for asking.” You hummed happily. “How drunk are you?”

You shook your head, failing at rubbing the haziness out of your eyes. “Just a bit tipsy, maybe.”

“How much exactly is ‘a bit tipsy’ for you?”

“How many phone calls have we had?”

A question out of the blue, you knew, and you were expecting yet again the quietness as he processed your sudden need to quiz him about such insignificant rubbish. Well… did he think it was insignificant? So many questions bouncing off your skull all at once, worsening that awful migraine you could already feel coming… or was it the booze? No, who cares. All you cared about at the moment was his response, because knowing how many fucking phone calls you’ve had wasn’t that hard unless you didn’t care.

“What?” Really? He was going to make you repeat yourself? You dug the heel of the palm into your closed eye, white fireworks blowing up in the darkness behind your eyelids.

“Like, for these past two years. How many phone calls?”

“I… don’t know, maybe like three?”

Your face fell ever so slightly. “It’s six, actually.” You heard an unenthusiastic gasp.

“Wow, that’s great.”

“Do you remember the sixth one?”

“Isn’t this the sixth one?”

“This is the seventh one.”

“Okay, and why are you giving me a class about how many phone calls we’ve had?”

“Because you don’t remember the sixth one. I’m sure you don’t even remember the fifth one that well.”

He remained quiet for a moment. “It’s a blur.” Peter murmured.

“You were drunk…” You shut both eyes now, trying to dig through the fog to recall. “It was after you came to the bar…” Peter’s embarrassed stutters, similar to his inebriated ones, helped to uncover the memory further.

“I-I was drunk, yeah,” He admitted, “just like you are right now.”

“And what did you say?”

He laughed uncomfortably. “I think you remember better than I do.”

You grinned. “You’re embarrassed.”

“Of course I’m embarrassed, Y/N.”

“Well, what about the sixth time you called me?”

“I seriously can’t remember a sixth time.”

“It wasn’t a failed booty call.”

He breathed in harshly. “Ah, I’m glad, I guess.”

A frown took over your features. “You really can’t remember?” You needed him to. He had to. Or else... or else…

“I swear on my aunt.”

Your heart shattered, the sharp pieces prodding and hurting your chest. “So… so I guess you didn’t mean what you said?” You mumbled to yourself, realization sobering you more than you wanted it to.

Peter couldn’t help but begin to panic a bit at the mention of expressing something without his knowledge, or at least without his not drunk self’s knowledge. You immediately grew conscious of it for this time, the silence was different. “...What did I say?” He questioned, somewhat afraid. You didn’t speak. “Y/N? What did I say?” He pushed more urgently.

“It doesn’t matter,” You changed your mind. Calling was just another bad idea. You took your phone away from your ear for a second, jumping off from your seat, but your foot accidentally knocked over your drink. You stared down at the growing pool of alcohol staining the floor, seeping underneath your shoe. Blinking, you looked at your phone, at Peter’s name, and the numbers of the counter below it rising, marking each of your thumping heartbeat.

The sixth reason. You needed it to stop you right now; an instruction to back out, the reassurance that it was still an option and it didn’t stop being one long ago. But as your finger came down to end the call for the better, your head screamed, freezing you.

Sixth. You were in love with Peter Parker.

You dropped back down on the bench, eyes glazed over. That was it. The sixth reason. Peter. The man nearing his forties and with the loveliest messed up nose. The customer you met last year and that continued to come to bar you worked at just to talk to you, his bartender. The guy you laughed with, sang with, slept with, became too close with, fell in love with. You put the phone back up to its right place, anxiously licking your lips. “Look, I’m gonna regret this. I know I am. But that hasn’t stopped me in the past, so why should it now, right?” You chuckled, your eyes wide.

“I’m really concerned about that phone call, though.”

“Peter,” You glanced up at the sky, gulping. “I’m so glad I met you. I really am.”

“I-I’m glad I met you, too.”

You smiled momentarily. “Good. Working at the bar had become such a pain in the ass, and it still kinda is, but then you came that first time, and you called me ‘kid’ which annoyed me, but I was still hoping that maybe you’d stay, you know?”

“Why?”

“Because…” Your free hand came up to aid the other which trembled too much, grasping it tightly. “I don’t know, it was weird, I just couldn’t… I-I really wanted to get to know you. And it took some time but eventually we did talk— you said that stupid pick-up line and somehow it worked. I really need to higher my standards.”

“Hey, it was a great pick-up line.”

“It really wasn’t.”

“You gave me your number, didn’t you?”

The corner of your mouth twitched upward, and you laughed softly at yourself. “I did, I did. And I’m glad I did, even if you were just trying to get your mind off of MJ.” The truth stung as it glided out of your mouth.

Peter thought for a moment before continuing, “Maybe I just wanted a friend.” But it lacked sincerity, and you both could recognize that.

“But, Pete,” You bit your lip, looking down at the mess you’d left on the ground, the sole of your shoe now sticky. “Am I really just a friend?”

More silence. You breathed in, your chest moving up. “Be honest with me, please.” You begged, your voice hushed.

“Okay.”

Your stomach began to cramp up. “That time we hooked up,” You paused, the eerie shortage of noise on the other side of the line pushing you to go on. “Did it mean anything to you? Was it anything more than just a distraction?”

“I…”

“Or what about that other time at my place? Why did nothing happen?”

“We were too wasted. It was wrong.”

“So you do remember.”

“I do.”

You placed your hand on top of the other, beginning to pace around. “Are you lying about that phone call, too?”

“What is it with this phone call you say? What happened?” He repeated, desperate and with a hint of irritation. You approached the railing, placing your elbows on the metal.

“Just… be honest with me.”

“I am, Y/N.”

You kneaded your forehead with your knuckles, shaking your head. “I can’t take it anymore. It’s been too long, and it’s so confusing. You’re so confusing. Or maybe I’m stupid, I don’t know. There’s… there’s this thing, I know you can feel it as well, and sometimes it’s as if there’s a chance that you might feel the same way I do, but then the next minute it’s as if not, a-and it’s so confusing.”

“Feel the same way you do? What do you mean?” He clearly knew what you meant. Your eyes traveled around the city, the cold and strong breeze nearly knocking your body backward. If he knew, why couldn’t he simply outright admit it? Why, all of a sudden, was it taking him so long?

“The phone call…”

He groaned. “Y/N, just please tell me why you’re so hung up on that phone call?”

“It was last week. You said you liked me.”

You said it. He heard it. He finally heard it, and you waited for anything like an idiot, yet it never came. You checked if you had accidentally hung up the call, but when you saw that it was still going, you sighed and decided to end it for once and for all. “We can be anything. Anything, okay? I can just be your bartender, you can be my client, we can be friends, w-we can be more. If it’s not supposed to be, then just as long as you’re there, I really won’t mind. Just, please… I’m begging you…” You whispered, not capable of discerning whether your body quivered from the winter or the fear brutally gnawing on you.

“Be honest.”

Peter held his breath. “Y/N…” You waited, shoulders shaking, the stupid fucking silence clutching you by the neck as you waited. Just say it. Just say it—

“I’m still in love with MJ. I’m sorry.”

Oh.

“Oh.” You said aloud, voice cracking. “Wow.”

“I’m sorry—”

“No. Pete, no, I’m…Thank you. It’s just kinda hard to take it in, but I...” You tightened your jaw, your throat aching, swallowing back your pity. “I will. Thank you for being honest, though.”

“I really hope this doesn’t ruin things,” You could barely hear him: your brain too loud compared to his voice. You shook your head frantically, scrunching up your nose to hold back a sniffle.

“Never. I love you.” It wasn’t the way you wanted to say it. “You’re my friend. And I’m not going anywhere because you said I was stuck with you, remember?”

He laughed, a beam of light that almost mended your fractured heart. “Yeah, I haven’t forgotten about that.” You smiled brightly, wiping the tears you’d tried so hard to stop from running down your cheeks. You stood straight, but it was only for a mere second, for your arms plopped back down onto the railing from the lightheadedness which threatened to bring you down.

“Okay,” You slurred, the bile rising up and burning your throat. “I’m gonna leave you. My friend will hate me if I miss the countdown…”

“Sure. Happy new year… be safe.”

You giggled, waving your hand at no one, really. “Don’t worry about me grandpa, I do this every year.” You doubted the idea that popped in your head, but voiced it anyway, “And if you need any help with MJ, I’m here. I can give you a discount at the bar for a date night!” The excitement you forced onto yourself was salt on the wound.

“I’m not sure if that’s a romantic idea, but thanks, I’ll think about it.” You both hesitated, waiting for something once again. But when you realized that it’d never arrive no matter how much time passed, you nodded quietly and unwrapped your arms from yourself, preparing to let go of that feeling you’d clutched onto for the longest time as well.

“I’ll see you around.” You finally said and hung up. You stared at your phone, grief by your side, holding your hand. Yet, to your surprise, a weak smile started to creep on you, relief slowly sewing your heart together. You told yourself that the heaviness in your heart didn’t matter, because at least you had Peter. At least he would still be there, at the bar, with his whiskey served over ice.

As you stumbled to your feet, ready to join your friend and drink away your bittersweet ache, your phone began to vibrate. Your brows twisted together and you looked down, sliding your thumb across the screen.

“Peter?”

#peter b parker x reader #peter b parker x you #peter b parker x y/n #sm:itsv #spider man into the spider verse #peter b parker one shot #peter b parker imagine #one make out session #fem!reader #male!reader #gender neutral #sadies1.6kwc

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chikkampli · 5 years ago

Text

another crappy fanfic but it's chimondo

Soooooo, Danganronpa: THH Chapter 2 spoilers,,,,,, :|. I also used actual quotes from the game *c o u g h*

“Well...um… I’m a boy,” Chihiro stared intensely back at Mondo, taking in all the remaining courage he had left to tell him.

“Seriously? Jesus…” Mondo’s face took on a surprised look, which was to be expected. Chihiro did have a feminine body and voice after all.

Chihiro looked away, tears starting to form in his eyes, “Y-Yeah… I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“But...why?” Mondo inquired. “Why now? Why are you telling me this all of a sudden?”

“...Huh?”

Mondo rubbed the back of his neck, “ ‘Cuz I mean...you’ve kept that secret all this time, right? If anyone found out...you would…”

He sighed, this was to be expected. “Y-You’re right, but… I want to change! I wrapped myself in lies. I’m weak. I want to destroy that version of me forever! I have to change. I don’t want to be weak anymore. You’re so strong, it can’t hurt you, right?” the boy’s eyes lit up in admiration. “Whatever secret Monokuma might tell us…”

Mondo smiled warmly, “Yeah… But uh, do you mind tellin’ me? Ya know, ‘cuz…”

“Oh, yeah… I guess I should. You deserve to know since I lied to you all this time…”

His eyes widened, “You don’t have to do that! I mean...it’s your secret. I musta took you alotta balls to tell me, you don’t have to tell me why if ya don’t wanna.”

“Oh, it’s fine… I want to! And like I said, you deserve to know. I lied to you, Mondo.” Chihiro sighed, “Well...it started getting bad around 6th grade, when all the boys were looking more...like boys, I guess…”

This was a common occurrence. Being teased and bullied by others for being “too girly” and that he needed to “man up”, it was so tiring. Chihiro Fujisaki is a boy, why can't they see that? They're always, always saying that he's too feminine for a boy and that he would be better off being a girl. This was honestly so stupid, everything is stupid. Everybody who degraded him solely on his lack of masculinity is stupid. This world is stupid. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid. Chihiro Fujisaki was no less of a male than the rest of them, he is a boy and he deserved to be respected as one. Chihiro Fujisaki is a boy, he may look feminine and not meet society's expectations of a male, but he his a boy. He is a male. He is of the male sex.

But even so, Chihiro was still degraded by other people, even his own family, for not meeting the expectations all males were set to society-wise. And now he was stuck inside a circle of four boys, being ruthlessly teased and bullied. Tears were streaming down his face as the older, stronger were boys pushing and trashing him about, calling him all sorts of things. One even grabbed him and started punching him, it didn't last long though. Chihiro liked to think that he actually had a heart and decided that he was treating him too badly, but it was more likely that the older boy got bored of his reactions. While he was punching the ever-living heck out of Chihiro, Chihiro decided to not react too much. He thought it would stop if he did that, and he was right. The small boy lay helplessly on the ground when the other dropped him, muttering something like “Man, you're no fun.” After about 15 more minutes of extremely traumatizing teasing and physical assult, the older boys had enough and left Chihiro there, bruised and tears pouring down his face.

When he came home from school, he immediately headed straight for his room, wanting to be isolated from everything and everybody. He looked around, trying to find something to distract him. His eyes landed on his notebook, the notebook he wrote in for all his projects. Chihiro's eyes brightened and grabbed the notebook, opening it up to the first page. The page showed his first ever project, he was very proud of this one. This was the project that had gotten him recognized as the “Pre-teen Programmer Prodigy”. He loved looking back at his plans and ideas for this almost as much as he loved his dad. And that was a LOT of love. He ignored the aches of his body as he read through it, almost forgetting he had gotten those injuries. In the middle of looking through, his dad walked in.

“Chihiro?” he called out. Crap.

Chihiro kept his head held low, he didn't want his dad to see his face. “Yes sir?”

“Can I come in? I just want to check up on you, is all.”

“Yeah. Oh, I need to unlock the door…” the small boy quickly got up on his feet, shuffling his way to the door to unlock it still looking down. “It's unlocked.” He made his way to his bed as his dad came in.

“So, how was school?” he asked. Aw heck, he already knew where this was going.

“Fine,” Chihiro shifted a bit, messing up the comforter he was on even more. He already knew what was going to happen, thus making him really hot and flushed; you could see the redness of his ears quite clearly.

His dad stayed silent before he cleared his throat. “...Can I see your face?”

Heck. He was done for. Chihiro hated having to worry his dad and make him upset, it was upsetting for the both of them. He knew if he disobeyed it would only cause more problems, so he reluctantly looked up at him slowly.

“Oh my…” his father rushed over to him. “What happened?? Chihiro, this isn't…”

“They punched and kicked me, and called me names. That's all.”

He put on a worried expression, “Chihiro… I'm so sorry, I just…”

Chihiro nodded, “It's okay, Dad. You weren't there, you couldn't have possibly done anything.”

“But…” He sighed, “I think we should change schools. For the better.”

“I don't think it will fully stop people from doing...that to me… But I believe it will stop the worst of it.”

His dad sighed, “I know.”

("Right then, I had a crazy idea, I didn't know if it would work, honestly. It was the idea of me crossdressing. If I was so bad at being a boy, I would be a better girl, right? So, I decided to...be, well, who I am now.")

"...What if I dressed like a girl, or become a girl?"

"H-Huh?!" he blinked in surprise, "Now you don't have to do that, Chihiro-"

"But I want to." Chihiro stared back intensely, looking the most serious he had ever been in his life at that point. "If I dress like a girl, then they'll leave me alone at the new school, right? Besides, I genuinely want to, Dad."

"B-But are you sure? Just changing drastically so fast can be tiring-"

"Yes, I'm sure," he fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

"And so, my dad pulled me out of my old school to my new one, making my gender female so I could be more comfortable. We went shopping to buy more feminine clothes and...here we are," Chihiro looked down, trying to avoid eye contact with Mondo. This story was very sensitive for him, but he wanted to share it with the boy in front of him. They were close, after all.

"Wow… I'm sorry that happened to you, kid," Mondo subconsciously walked a little closer to him. "I'm gonna help you as much as I can now! It's a promise between men!" he held out his hand for Chihiro to shake it.

This took Chihiro by surprise. 'A promise between men?!?! He considers me...a man?? I'm nothing like a man, I'm still…" He pushed away that thought. Smiling sheepishly he took his hand.

"A promise between men!"

#chihiro fujisaki #fujisakichihiro #fujisaki chihiro #mondo owada #owada mondo #mondo oowada #oowada mondo #chimondo #danganronpa #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #danganronpa trilogy

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quinintheclouds · 5 years ago

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Heyyyyyyyy quin, im gonna rant at you for a bit, because im fucking done with this bullshit!!! So, as of right now, my father's plan is to force me to redo freshman year, wether i want to or not(surprise surprise! i don't) He concluded this after taking one look at my grades from this year(four ds, one two as, two bs. not what i would consider good but thats not the poINT HERE) His exact words were "you are redoing your 9th grade year. its just a question of when." 1/idontfuckingknow

(Gonna paste the rest of your asks here. Tw: suicide mention)

Now, i, having already had a slightly toned-down version of this bloody conversation with my mother, did not have the patience for this shit. The following argument goes aproxxamately as follows,(this is a paraphrased version) beginning with me: "No. No, i already had this fucking conversation, im not redoing a year." "What POSSIBLE ARGUMENT COULD YOU HAVE for me to think so??" silence. "Do you ASPIRE to be a waitress?? Maybe a hairdresser" nothing. It only gets worse frome here. 2/??

"How much EFFORT DID YOU PUT INTO FUCKING THIS UP??" Now, lets stop here for a moment. What the fuck is my father, the man who's jizz became me, trying to pull? Anyway, my response was bewildered at best and full on APPALLED AND ENRAGED at worst: "you think i fucking- what makes you- I PUT EFFOR- THATS THESTUPIDESTSHITVIE EVERFUCKINGHEARD!??!!!! WHAT makes you think i DID IT ON PURPOSE??????" "THIS- *waves my report card in my face, wildly* MAKES ME THINK YOU DID IT ON PURPOSE." 3/4maybe5or6idk

Now, ive been trying, oh have i been trying, to get it through this man's head FOR YEARS, that i would never get bad grades on purpose. That should be a given right??? Anyway, he waves the paper in my face, and i (justly) had tears in my eyes. This is the angriest ive seen my father, which is saying a fucking lot, and hes about 8 inches from me, looking me DEAD IN THE FACE. And I have tears in my eyes. I was terrified, and im pretty sure i looked terrified. But did he care? mmmnotreally! 4/???

Ok, im not sure what else exactly he said(other than, sprinkled in there, that I manipulated my mother[no,] and that i 'couldve not shown up to class and still wouldntve done this bad') but either way, he walked away, saying "You WILL NOt be a sophomore at [my school] next year. we arent doing this again." *john mulaney voice* now, we don't have time to unpack all of that, If my father didn't give a shit about me before, he definitely doesn't now. This just fucking confirms it for me. 5/6

Actually, let me rephrase. He, no, BOTH of my parents don't give a shit about my mental health. They care about my grades because, if they turn out good, this tells them theyve done something right. They only give a shit about me if it benefits them, in that way or otherwise. This is what I've figured out. Honestly, i think im gonna have to tell him that ill fucking kill myself if im forced to redo freshman year. At this point, its the only way to get it through his head. 6/fuckigottadoonemore

And, at this point, im not even sure that if i said that, I'd be lying. In fuCKING conclusion, my parents do not give a shit. They don't give A SHIT, about how much BEING HELD BACK, is gonna FUCKING AFFECT ME, THEY JUST WANT MY GRADES TO BE BETTER SO THEY CAN FEEL BETTER ABOUT THEM-FUCKING-SELVES. I'm done now.

_________________________________________________________

Wow, that sounds stressful as all hell... also your parents sound like mine. I can’t stand parents who put blame on their kid for their mental health or struggles. They don’t need the burden of thinking it’s their fault ON TOP OF the burden of actually dealing with that shit! Is it possible to talk to a counselor at school about not wanting to repeat the year? Those grades qualify you to move on, don’t they? I’d be as pissed as you if my dad tried to do that. It’s your education. My parents have screamed at me about grades many a time, and I FEEL your pain. The way they’re acting is unhealthy for you, and I’m so so sorry you have to go through it. Telling you your future has no potential unless you do what they say is manipulative bullshit.

"How much EFFORT DID YOU PUT INTO FUCKING THIS UP??" OH MY GOD if I had an ant for every time my parents said this to me I could make an ant colony strong enough to take over the world. It is NOT okay. Suggesting that your work is a failure in the first place is awful, but adding in that you did it on purpose is a terrible parenting excuse because they think it reflects on them. That shit will mess you up. I still struggle to remember that me having trouble with something doesn’t make it my fault. I used to believe them and blame myself for every break I took. Playing a video game? Could’ve been studying. Reading a book? Should have asked for extra credit. All of that is ridiculous and harmful to any kid or adult. Let’s get one thing clear: it is NOT. YOUR. FAULT. And another: grades are not a measurement of effort, intelligence, or worth. They’re structured poorly and the entire school system desperately needs revamping. Your future is not doomed regardless of your grades.

Your dad saying you “'couldve not shown up to class and still wouldntve done this bad'” is ABHORRENT. Telling you that you not trying at all is better than any efforts you make is just so profoundly fucked up, pardon my French. Also, completely wrong.

“BOTH of my parents don't give a shit about my mental health. They care about my grades because, if they turn out good, this tells them theyve done something right. They only give a shit about me if it benefits them, in that way or otherwise.“ My parents are the same way. They only care about whether something makes them look good or bad. You are NOT their trophy to show off as though your achievements are their own, and you are NOT some shameful thing for them to treat poorly. You are, always have been, and always will be, your own person.

I’m gonna use a quote from a show that hits me really hard and I feel that every child of awful parents needs to hear. “I’m... sorry. I’m sorry your parents don’t care enough. You have every right to be angry. But you deserve to be happy.” You have been through so much, and your anger is absolutely justified. And yet, that doesn’t mean you can’t or won’t be happy. You deserve better than anger. You deserve to be happy. “And I hope you can find that... even if it’s not today.”

“Honestly, i think im gonna have to tell him that ill fucking kill myself if im forced to redo freshman year. At this point, its the only way to get it through his head. And, at this point, im not even sure that if i said that, I'd be lying.” I have been there, so I’ll be 100% honest with you. If your parents are anything like mine -- and it sounds like they are -- telling them you’ll kill yourself still won’t get through to them. In fact, it might make them take you even less seriously if they see you using it as leverage. Kids of parents that don’t take mental health seriously often drive themselves further into depression as a cry for help (not by their own fault) that’s perpetuated by never being heard. I got worse and worse (tw suicide ment) and I told my parents I was having suicidal thoughts. They just saw it as lazy and selfish and overreacting. I spiraled deeper. Then, when I made an attempt, my mom was furious, screaming at me and threatening me because I could’ve messed up her gun. “If you really want to be dead, ask me and I’ll gladly do it for you. At least I know how to use a fucking gun right.”

I could go on with the rest of that story, but I’ll sum it up by saying: I got help. I got better. I realized that if they wouldn’t care about me, I would. I knew what I was feeling was real. I knew I needed help if I wanted to survive. And now, I’ve found real happiness and more stability. Mental health issues don’t go away easily, and I know it’s not the same for everyone, but working on them is so worth it. I promise it can get better. People like to think of happiness as a long-term thing, but life will always have its ups and downs... I still have down days. I won’t pretend I don’t still have a lot to work through. But I am, finally, okay. I never knew “okay” could be the default, or how okay life could be. And it’s amazing. Happy happens a lot more now, and depression is smaller and manageable. I know you’re stuck where you are for now, and may not have access to professional help. But please... Please care about yourself, even if your parents don’t. I care about you. You deserve to, too.

I’ve had so many moments that I felt were the last straw, that I couldn’t handle any more, that I was broken or ruined or doomed, but even then I somehow managed to survive. And I can honestly say I am so, so glad that I did. Please don’t let your parents ruin that for you. It’s not your fault for where you are. And it’s not where you’ll be forever. No matter what happens in this situation, whether it’s repeating the grade or moving on to the next, I believe that you can make it through. You are so fucking strong for making it this far. I know you might not believe me, but try to trust me. You. Deserve. Better. And even if it sucks right now, you absolutely can get there.

#I believe in you danny #tw suicide #tw suicide mention #tw suicidal ideation #tw abuse #tw emotional manipulation #tw emotional abuse #swearing

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celtics534 · 6 years ago

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Natural Chapter 12

Natural Chapter 12 is ready for y’all to enjoy! I have two things to say about this chapter. First: @gryffindormischief helped with Ginny’s killer comeback. Second: sorry for the ending....

Read on: FF.net, AO3, or down below!

"Come on!" Ron looked like a child going into the local sweet shop. He refrained from dragging Harry by the arm, but only just. Harry, for his part, was too amused to say anything. When he had offered to take his future brother-in-law to the pub, he hadn't expected the full-grown adult to become a toddler.

The Cannons frequented a small pub only a few miles from their stadium. With such a limited fan base, the pub rarely filled after games. Harry and Ron had no issue entering the place, let alone finding the team.

"Holy Merlin's balls," Ron breathed as he stopped dead by the front door, rather reminiscent of a teenage witch seeing her favorite member of the Weird Sisters.

"Hey, Potter!" Lance Goone waved them over with a smile

"Ron?" Harry had made it halfway to the table before he noticed Ron was still at the door. His mouth was wide open, welcoming any sort of insect to fly in. "You coming?"

It took a solid five seconds for Ron's feet to start moving, though still at a sloth's pace.

Merlin! At the rate Ron was moving, Harry could drink four beers and down three shots before he made it to the table.

Harry moved back a few steps to gently push Ron forward. The tall man stumbled slightly, but picked up his pace.

"Hey, Goone!" Harry greeted the Cannons' beater while nodding at the rest of the team. "How was the game today?"

"Not too bad." Goone snapped his thumb and forefinger together, and got the attention of the barman. "Another two drinks, please!" He turned back to Harry. "We only lost by a hundred."

"Who were you playing?" Harry asked while the grumpy barman placed down two bottles in front of him and Ron- the latter of whom instantly took a slip of his liquid courage.

"The Wigtown Wanderers."

Harry could feel his brow rise. "Really? Not bad, Goone."

Goone pretended to shine his fingernails on his shirt sleeve. "They weren't expecting me and Snyder to focus on their keeper every time we were about to take a shot." He waved his hand dismissively. "But, anyways what are you doing here? And who's your mate?"

Harry could hear Ron's breath catch. Such a teenage witch!

"This is my fiancée's brother, Ron. He's been a fan of the Cannons forever and I promised to show him your preferred spot."

Goone looked shocked for a moment. Most likely never met a fan before, Harry thought sarcastically.

"Nice to meet you, Ron." Goone stuck out his hand. Ron remained as stiff as a board, just staring at the proffered hand.

"I'm glad this moment happened before Ginny showed up." Harry laughed lightly. "She would never stop taking the mickey."

"Oh, your girl is coming here?" Goone turned his attention back to Harry, letting his hand drop back to his side. Ron was still sitting ramrod straight. "I've never met her before."

"Yeah, she had a late training session with the Harpies, but after that she wanted to come- and this is a quote from her-'watch Ron make a fool of himself'."

Goone snorted, but gave Ron a kind smile. "Well, I look forward to meeting her. Remind me again, what does she look like?"

Harry could feel his lips curl in a stupid grin. It always happened when he talked about Ginny. "She's got semi-short red hair, brown eyes -"

"Athletic build?" Goone interrupted.

Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"Does she tend to order a firewhiskey?"

"How do you -"

Harry turned in his seat and saw Ginny at the bar, a glass of whiskey in one hand and an annoyed scowl on her beautiful face. It didn't take long for Harry to see why she looked irked. Alfie Malcolm, the Cannons' seeker, leaned against the bar, clearly flirting with her.

A creature within Harry's chest started to growl. The way Malcolm was leaning over Ginny… It wasn't as if Harry didn't trust Ginny. Fuck no! He trusted her more than anyone else, but that didn't mean he liked other men hovering over her like she was a piece of meat.

Harry snorted in glee as Ginny's expression shifted. He knew that look. That sickly-sweet batting of eyelashes that meant she was about to crush some dreams - and likely a few toes.

Sure enough, Ginny patted the seeker on the cheek not-too-gently with her left hand and gave him a smile that could make a tough man whimper in fear. Malcolm's eyes darted towards the ring on her finger. Harry had never been good at reading lips, but he could see Ginny's mouth form the word engaged. Then she stepped on his toes as she walked past the seeker, making the man flinch.

"Hello, love." Ginny placed glass her next to Harry's, giving him a quick kiss in the process. She pulled an empty chair from another table and sat down next to Harry. "Ron." She nodded at her still star-struck brother. "And you must be Lance. Harry told me you're a decent bloke, unlike that prick." She gestured back towards the bar where Malcolm was still standing stunned.

"I've always heard redheads are feisty, and you seem to be the epitome." Goone laughed as he looked over at his teammate. "Alfie needs to learn to look for rings before chatting up a bird."

"He should also learn to how to chat someone up properly." Ginny sipped her whiskey. "I mean, his lines are pathetic." She deepened her voice. "I'm a seeker and let me tell you, I think I already have you in the palm of my hand."

Harry and Goone both snorted into their beers. "Seriously?" Goone asked.

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, and I told him I bet a cactus got more action than him." Ginny grinned mischievously. "Self-attention not included."

"Oh," Goone choked, as his body shook with laughter. He rested his forehead on the table. "That's good!"

Harry couldn't agree more. The creature in his chest purred as Ginny leaned into him. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

"So what have you lads been talking about?" Ginny changed topic as she looked over at her brother. "Did I miss something good?"

"He's been like this since before we sat down," Harry confided. "I think he's broken."

Ginny dismissed Harry's concern with a careless gesture. "Oh, I know how to fix that." She turned to look at Goone, who had only just composed himself. "Wanna hear the story of how Ron got knocked out?"

To Harry's surprise, Ron came back to attention. He glowered at his sister. "You don't tell it right!"

"Well then, dear brother." Ginny smiled wickedly (something Harry found way too attractive). "How do you explain the time you ran into a door frame while fleeing from a three centimeter spider?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I like this color blue." Ginny admired the fresh coat of paint on the sitting room walls. "It's simple and keeps the room feeling light."

"I see what you mean," Harry rested his back against the base of the sofa. He and Ginny had moved all the furniture to the center of the room so the paint that had been casted up on the wall could dry without an issue. With all their different spells and enchantments to make things simpler for themself, Harry was shocked there wasn't a paint drying spell. Sure, they were able to make the mid-grade blue color stick the walls no problem, but they still had to wait for it to dry. Wizards were odd.

Ginny grabbed another piece of pizza from the box that sat between them. Harry had decided that a picnic in the sitting room was perfect for their Saturday night. Neither of them had practice (both coaches decided their team needed a night off with it being a quarter of the way into the season) and a quiet evening sounded pretty amazing.

They had been living in their cottage for a few months, but hadn't gotten around to improving anything. When Harry had started working on the place he knew there would be things Ginny would have opinions on, such as paint colors. Today alone, they had changed the colors of all the rooms and reorganized the furniture.

"So, Mum's been getting on my case again," Ginny started nonchalantly. She placed her half- eaten slice down on her paper plate. "She has wedding fever."

"Better than baby fever," Harry joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Ginny frantically shook her head. "Don't give her any ideas. I bet the minute we're married she gonna start knitting booties."

"But she has Bill and Percy to help with her grandkid craze, right?"

"You'd think that'd be enough." Ginny sighed and scooted her body closer to his, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. "But no, she can't wait for her only daughter to have a baby."

She suddenly jerked her head up. "Oh! I forgot to tell you! Fleur's pregnant!"

"Really? That's great." Harry was happy for the older couple. They would make great parents. "I didn't know they were trying."

"For over a year. They were really starting to get stressed about it. Fleur told me she thought it was a sign they weren't meant to have children." Ginny's smile somehow widened. "But here they are, three months along. She's even showing a little."

"Wow! They waited a bit to tell you, didn't they?"

Ginny shrugged. "Fleur wanted to wait until their chance of miscarriage was lower."

"Ah." Harry understood that. He couldn't imagine telling everyone the good news, only to have it ripped away from you.

"Anyway, Fleur wants to give baby a French name." Ginny took a bite of her dinner. "They don't have a boy's name yet, but they are saying Victoire for a girl. It's close to victory in French. She says getting pregnant is a victory to them."

"Well, that's..." Harry wasn't quite sure of the word he wanted to use.

"One way to look at getting knocked up," Ginny supplied with a sly smirk.

Harry laughed. He tilted her chin, intending to give her a light kiss, but Ginny seemed to have other intentions. She pressed her mouth hard to his, her fingers tangling into his hair.

"You know," Ginny murmured against his lips, "we could celebrate their victory… We haven't shagged in this room while the walls are blue, yet."

Harry pulled back slightly, adjusting their bodies so he hovered over her. With a wave of his wand (that had been sitting beside him) he lit the fireplace, filling the room with the happy sounds of crackling logs. "We wouldn't want break our streak, now would we?"

He moved his mouth down from her lips to her throat, then to her sternum. Ginny let out a sound of approval as he slid his hands to the hem of her shirt, letting his fingers play with the the little bit of exposed skin.

"You know, they rightly named this carpet." Ginny's voice was husky as she untangled her hands from his hair. She guided her fingers to the top button on his shirt. She made quick work of the first three. "It is perfect for shagging."

Harry stopped his ministrations and connected his eyes to hers. They gleamed with delight at her own joke. "Really?"

"Do you disagree?"

"Oh no! I couldn't agree more."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Have I ever told you how much I hate wedding planning?" Ginny moaned as she flopped down onto the sofa beside Harry. Deciding he would find out who murdered the young woman in his novel later, Harry placed a bookmark into the folds. His fiancée need his attention more.

"You have, but it is the groom's job to listen to his ranting bride. So please, keep me up to date. What happened?"

Ginny glared at him for his sarcasm, but clearly decided her tirade was more vital than reprimanding him for his satire. "My mother spent three hours on flowers. Just flowers!" Her face contorted in pain. "Do you know how little I care about flowers?"

"Probably as much as I care about tablecloths." Harry twisted his body so his back was against the armrest. He helped Ginny position herself with her back to his chest, their legs spread out in front of them on the cushions.

"Remind me again why we can't just elope?" Ginny whined, as Harry rubbed small circles into her thigh.

"Because we want to live to see thirty."

"Right, our mothers would become murderers."

"And I don't think our fathers would forgive us for making that happen." Harry pressed a kiss to the top of Ginny's head. "I get why they are pushing us more."

"Oh, don't bring logic into this!" Ginny complained, her hands coming up to cover her face. Her voice was muffled, but Harry had become completely fluent in the ways of Ginny Weasley allowing him to understand her through the barricade. "Two months is plenty of time."

"How many weddings have you planned?"

Ginny turned her neck to look at him, her hands dropping. "Huh?"

"You say two months is plenty of time, but I can say that I have no idea how hard it is to plan a wedding. But I have heard it takes quite a bit of time, maybe more than two months."

"Stop with your logic, Potter. Can't you just agree with me?"

"Sorry, darling. You know I love playing the devil's advocate."

Ginny let out a deep breath. "You're right."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"No. I guess I should go back and work with my mum, huh."

"I mean." Harry leaned around to kiss her cheek. "I could come with you. I picked white tablecloths so I can help to make sure the flower's color works with the tables."

Ginny turned her entire body around, her eyes locked on his. "You'd do that?"

"For you, I'd suffer through the seating chart rearrangement for the twentieth time."

"Well if that isn't love..." Though her tone oozed with sarcasm, the way she kissed him told Harry he had done the right thing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Weasley has been unstoppable today!" Mothers told the listeners. "She hasn't missed a shot. It's as if the Magpies haven't had a keeper at all."

"Fifteen shots and fifteen goals." Gregory clapped his hands together. "We don't tend to see such a one-sided game this close to the finals."

"Make it three-hundred and ten to one-hundred and twenty. Harpies still in the lead."

"I wish we could bottle whatever is driving Weasley today so we can have more games like this," Gregory mused as he watched the red-head speed pass him. "What do you think is her inspiration today?"

"I have no idea, Dan," Mothers admitted. "We did speak with her fiancé, Harry Potter, before his match today. When we brought up Weasley, he claimed she was ready for today's match, and clearly, he wasn't lying."

"Have the happy couple set a date yet?" Dan asked, more for himself than the listeners at this point.

"Actually, I did ask Potter." Mothers smiled at his partner. "He didn't say the exact date, but he hinted it was less than a month."

"Amazing! I can't explain how much I love the -"

Gregory gasped as Ginny Weasley started to fall fast. Her body was like a rag doll, moving through the air limply.

"Weasley has been taken down by a bludger to the head!" Mothers informed the crowd. "There is no one near her! She's gonna hit the ground!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mr Potter, I need you to remain calm."

"Oh, I'm plenty calm. I'm calm enough to hex you from here to Timbuktu."

"Harry, dear, how about you and Ron go get a cup of coffee down in the canteen."

Ginny couldn't move. She recognized her mother's soothing tone and Harry… a very distressed Harry. What would cause him to be so upset? She tried to open her eyes, but it was as if her lids had been stuck together with a permanent charm.

"Ergh." She tried to call Harry. She wanted to comfort him, but instead of saying his name loud and clear (like she had planned) the only noise that came out was an odd grunt.

"Ginny!?" Harry's voice had moved closer. "Gin, are you awake? Open your eyes, love."

Ginny tried to follow his instructions, but she just couldn't. The more she tried the more her head pounded.

"What's going on? Why can't she open her eyes?" Molly Weasley's voice accused fast and sharp. It was the tone she used when interrogating a trouble-maker.

"If she opens her eyes, her brain will face a sensory overload. I have made it so her eyes will remain shut until her brain has had more time to heal." Ginny didn't recognize the man's voice, but based on context clues she had to assume he was a healer of some sort.

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" Harry's tone made her want to laugh. He sounded ready to rip the head off the assumed healer. "Gin, can you hear me?"

"Ye-" Ginny tried to say yes, but she seemed unable to complete her task.

A hand she knew was Harry's lightly traced her cheek. "Good, love. Just relax then."

Ginny was more than happy to comply.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Multiple contusions, brain swelling, shattered bones in the hands, a broken leg and broken arm," Healer Rhodes explained, his elbows resting on the desk in his office "Miss Weasley is going to have quite a recovery process."

"Why did it take a week for her to wake up?" Harry asked for the fifth time. He, Molly, and Arthur sat together on the opposing side of the healer's desk.

"We believe she was in a comatose state." Rhodes laced his fingers together. "Her brain tissue swelled. Her body decided to shut down in order to focus on the trauma. It takes time for the body and mind to recover from such a serious injury. Our concern now is to test for any side effects from the swelling."

"Like what?" Arthur asked, his hand squeezing Molly's.

"Memory loss, speech functionality, motor functions, change in personality, things like that."

Harry didn't like it at all. "She might not remember things?"

"It's a possibility." Rhodes turned to Harry. "Though based on the response to you earlier I will hypothesize she knows you, Mr Potter."

"How do you check for…"

Rhodes gave Harry an understanding expression. "Slowly but surely. First we get her to a state where she can use her eyes comfortably. Then we see how well her brain responds. I would like to start healing some of the more serious injuries as soon as we can confirm she is mentally responsive."

"I'm going to go tell the boys to head home." Molly wiped away some stray tears. "It sounds like she doesn't need the whole family here right now."

"I have to agree with that, Mrs Weasley." Rhodes pulled out some charts from a drawer in his desk. "I'm going to wake her in about an hour and we are going to try and test response time. Mr Potter, I would like you to be there. It's always better if we have someone the patient is comfortable with."

"I had no intention of leaving," Harry told the healer. He knew he must sound rude, but at this moment he didn't give a shit about being charming and nice. If the healer had told him to leave, Harry had been more than prepared to fight the man.

"Good. Like I said it's going to be a hard recovery." Rhodes leaned in closer. "I want you to be prepared, Mr Potter. Miss Weasley is going to need you more than ever."

"Won't be a problem." Harry had never been more sure of anything in his life.

"I thought so." Rhodes stood, grabbing the charts with one hand and offered the other. "I'm going to check on a few other patients. Feel free to wait in your fiancée's room. I'll be there within the hour."

#hinny #hinny fic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry X ginny #harry potter fan fiction #hinny fanfic #natural

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bees-for-the-wildmother · 6 years ago

Text

The 100 Ask Game

I was tagged by the wonderful @thehundredtimesobsessed forever ago (or what feels like it, but I’m finally getting around to it today.

1. What Station on the Ark would you be from?

Probably Agro. My mom’s side of the family definitely has a green thumb.

2. What would you get arrested for on the Ark?

Umm...theft?

3. Would you take off your wristband when you landed on the ground?

No. No, I would not.

4. What would the Necklace Finn would make for you look like? (Clarke: deer/Raven: a raven duh…)

DRAGON! Dragons are my favorite. Followed by red pandas, but I feel like a dragon would be better (I already own a few dragon necklaces).

5. If you could resurrect any MINOR character who would it be?

Roan kom Azgeda - I miss him. <<< Same. Possibly Wells, but I became much more attached to Roan (probably because he had more episodes)

6. Create a squad by of 5 characters to go on missions with. Who are they?

Bellamy, Clarke, Raven, Monty, and Murphy. (This was basically pick your five favorite characters for me...)

7. What Grounder Clan would you belong to?

Podakru - the Lake People...I’m just going on that based on where I live, i.e. a place where there are lakes

8. What would your name be in Trigedasleng? (example: Octavia=Okteivia…just make it up!)

Shilbi, I think that’s what they’d do with it. I literally looked up to see if they even had a “sh” sound in their language; right when I was about to lose hope and resigning myself to “Silbi” or the like, I found a phrase with “sh”.

9. Thoughts on Finn? Some people hate him, and others love him, so I’m curious

I didn’t like him from the beginning. I didn’t hate him initially, but he got two people killed yet survived his own idiocy or taking off his seat belt. I thought he was going to be a detriment to their survival because he would take stupid unnecessary risks to show off.

10. Be honest. How willing would you have been to take the chip without knowing all the horrible things it does?

Probably not. My dad yells and me and my mom because we always need answers to motivations and the why of things. I don’t think I would put something in my body without fully knowing what it is and the ramifications of taking it.

11. What character do you relate to most?

I want to say Harper, but also some Clarke. In Harper, I see a lot of the traits I like about myself; in Clarke, I see a lot of the traits I don’t like about myself.

12. What character do you like the least?

This is difficult...I feel like it’s a cop out to say one of the villains of the show, but it’d probably be Cage Wallace. I don’t know who it’d be out of the people who are still alive.

13. Describe your delinquent outfit. (Would you wear something like Murphy’s jacket with the spikey red shoulder patch or have a trademark like Jasper’s goggles? Be creative, yet practical)

Charcoal grey jeans with a forest green v-neck t-shirt that has those criss-crossed strips of fabric, a dark brown leather jacket, and brown combat boots.

14. Favorite type of mutant animal?

...I don’t know...a mutant fox?

15. What would your job be on the Ark?

Probably like historian, archives, or teacher or something (based on my real life career path).

16. Would you have willingly pumped Ontari’s heart if Abby asked?

Yeah, I’d do what I have to. Probably would be admiring the ceiling as I did it, but I’d do it.

17. If Lexa wasn’t Heda, but she was still alive then who would have made the best commander?

I don’t know. I feel like it there was a more ruthless, battle ready heda, the 100 (and the rest of the Ark) would have been in a worse position.

Wait! An answer came to me when I was looking at question twenty: Lincoln! My friend and I liked to joke that Lincoln was one of the few characters with a head on his shoulders and realistic ideas and expectations for relations.

18. How would you act if you ate the hallucinogenic nuts like Jasper and Monty?

I’d probably just be giggling, at EVERYTHING.

19. How would you have dealt with Charlotte’s crime? A more John Murphy approach or Bellamy Blake approach?

Definitely a more Bellamy Blake approach.

20. Who should have been the Chancellor, if anyone?

Monty. Monty is another character who had a good head on his shoulders.

21. Would you have been on Pike’s side like Bellamy or on Kane’s side? Or Clarke in Polis?

Kane’s side. No question.

22. Mount Weather had a lot of modern commodities. (example: Maya’s Ipod) What is the one thing you would snatch while there?

Maybe a kindle if they had that. They probably would have different books than the Ark had, or the grounders. Give me all the books.

23. What would your Grounder tattoos look like? Hairstyle? War paint?

Probably a couple tribal tattoos on my arms, maybe connecting with something spanning my shoulders and upper back. Definitely ALL the braids; I already wear braids in my hair a lot, but I think they would just get more intricate for the grounder style. Some nice, swirling black warpaint around my eyes when I have to go to battle.

24. Favorite quote?

For someone who regularly collects quotes (though usually from books), I don’t actually have one. But a quick internet search and choosing quickly, I’ll say a favorite is, “I say, screw fear. I’m telling my own damn story.” (Bellamy Blake, 1.13). It reminds me a little of my one of my favorite song lyrics, “I’m the hero of the story; don’t need to be saved,” from “Hero” by Regina Spektor, which is actually a pretty decent song for the show.

25. If all of the characters were in the Hunger Games, who would have the best shot at winning?

I’m gonna go with Clarke. She’s smart and tactical and she does what she has to do. But if it came down to a straight up fight, probably Luna; she’d have the knowledge to survive the land and the talent to survive the fight.

26. Least favorite ship? Favorite canon ship? Favorite non canon ship? NOT INCLUDING CL OR BC OR BE

Miller/Jackson - It just came out of nowhere, with no build up, and I like to see how things unfold, especially relationships, and so I’m being stubborn about them trying to tell me it’s a thing. Zaven - All I wanted was for Raven to finally find someone who could make her happy and show her what she could should have. So, yeah, I’m in denial and not the happiest person right now. (I haven’t even watched the new season yet--I know, I know, I’m a horrible fan, but I was sick and then busy catching up on life--and this is something that got spoiled for me even though I’ve been trying to avoid tumblr for a week; I blame Critical Role for encouraging me to go on Tumblr last Thursday) Minty - I found the ship in fanfiction and jumped on board quickly and happily.

27. A song that should be included in the next season? If there had to be another guest star like Shawn Mendes on the show, who would you want to make a cameo?

I’m going with the song that I actually used as a title to one of my fanfics, “Heathens” by Twenty One Pilots. (I also just am bad at knowing songs, so this I’ll stick with what I already know fits with the story)

Celebrities, another of my knowledge downfalls--seriously, if you ever want a guaranteed win in a trivia game against me, go with Pop Culture as the topic.

28. What would you do if you were stuck in the bunker with Murphy for all that time?

Play card games? Drink? There wasn’t a whole lot to do.

29. Your an extra that gets killed off. How do you die?

You wouldn’t actually see me die, I’d just be one of the bodies bloody and lying on the ground.

30. A character you’d like to learn more about and get flashbacks of?

I think it’s actually Echo and/or Emori, both would be best; I’m curious about everyday life on the ground before the timeline of the show.

31. A character you’d bang?

Can I say all of them? If I have to select someone I‘d choose Bellamy, Clarke, Raven, or Roan. Basically the same answer as Toni. Ooo, I’m adding Lincoln to the list, too.

32. Would you stay in the Bunker? Go up to Space? Or live on your own in Eden?

Assuming I could survive it (nightblood), Eden. I need my green and I don’t mind being alone, though I’d probably still talk to the radio or the animals or plants.

33. In the Bunker, would you follow Octavia? What would you do to pass the time underground?

Yup. I’m a follower. Read, draw, think up stories.

34. What crime would you commit in the Bunker that lands you in the fighting pits?

These questions keep asking me questions with the assumption that I am not Lawful Good down to my core. I have no idea what law/rule I would willfully break and what the circumstances would have to be for me to do it.

35. Up in Space, who would you bond with first? Who would be the most difficult for you to get along with?

Harper, no doubt about it. Probably more so Murphy wouldn’t get along with me. He’d catch me making a face at something he said, and I didn’t honestly mean anything by it, my face just reacts, and he’d hold a grudge against me for a while.

36. How long do you think you would last on Earth by yourself?

If I had survival skills (know what to eat, how to find it, etc.) probably a long time. If I tried it at this exact moment, not very long at all.

37. When the Eligius ship lands what do you do?

Run, hide, observe, freak out. I don’t know.

38. Favorite Eligius character? Least favorite?

Shaw. (Why must all the good ones go?) Vinson, he was creepy AF.

39. Would you Spacewalk?

Assuming I could do it when it wasn’t illegal, yeah!

40. Would you prefer to eat Windshield Bugs, Space Algae, or Bunker Meat?

Windshield bugs. I was about to say Space Algae, but then I thought about the texture it’d be, and I’m pretty sure it’d be the texture that makes me gag when I try to eat it.

41. Would you start a war for the last spot of green on earth? What would your solution be to avoid it?

Yeah no, I don’t want to go to war. I would try to work out a way to share it.

42. Would you rather dig out flesh-eating worms or stick thumb drives into bullet holes?

I think I’d stick a thumb drive into a bullet hole. The first is turning my stomach to think about, but somehow the second isn’t doing the same.

43. Are you willing to poison your sister for the Traitor Who You Love? What would you do to stop Octavia?

Gut reaction against it, but that’s because I love my sister and she’s the sweetest. But if she did what Octavia did and had that personality, probably, as long as I knew she wouldn’t be killed by it. What they did seemed to work...?

44. Would you go to sleep in cryo or stay awake like Marper?

Sleep in cryo.

45. Who are you waking up first to explore the new planet?

Clarke and Bellamy, Raven and Shaw, Murphy and Miller. <<Same, probably Emori too, she’s resourceful.

I’m not gonna tag anyone because chances are they already did this while I’ve been avoiding Tumblr and so I missed their answers. But if anyone hasn’t done this and wants to, please tag me in your post! I want to see what other people have to say!

#the 100 #tag game #I'm such an awful fan for not watching the new season yet #I feel guilty about it #and I don't know if I'll be able to get the first episode done before the second one tonight #I already spoiled Shaw for myself #which devastated me #i was so so so excited for Raven to have someone after all she's been through #every episode and season for the pas few seasons I had two mantras #stop shirting on Monty #and stop shirting on Raven #I guess I got one of those because Monty got a happy ending #but first Finn being a dirtbag #then Wick disappearing off the face of the planet #and now this?#why?!?!#It almost makes me want to not watch #which is kind of where I guess I was always at #if I don't watch I can write my own happy ending for all of them in my brain #but if I watch I have to accept whatever trials and fates the writers give them

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squidproquoclarice · 6 years ago

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Fine, now that you mention it I do want commentary on ch3 of MAWAMS, you absolute menace. Also, this is hella good imagery even though it hurt me emotionally so props on that: “Suddenly the whole thing seemed to turn as one single nightmare, like a thaumatrope, that 19th century child’s toy, the disk with a bird on one side and a cage on the other. Spin it fast enough and the two pictures combined, the bird suddenly trapped in the cage.”

I…have only myself to blame for this. Though oh shit, where do I even start. Buckle your seatbelt because this will take a while.Since you mentioned it specifically: the thaumatrope image seemed too on the nose to not use at this point. Lorena and Lucy, watching them die, watching them happy in love with someone else. There’s no way it ever ends well for him with either of them, because he’ll only fail them, and he doesn’t deserve to be happy anyway. It’s all just one big blur of pain, the bird captured and stuck in its cage.I debated skipping the scene where Denise and Garcia go see Lorena. But it’s an important thing for him. He’s waited for four years to see her alive again and he deserved that moment, painful as it is. I deliberately wrote it as somewhat spare in some ways–he’s not focusing on how beautiful she is to him, or looking for too long at her kids to see how much they may resemble Iris, for example. He’s doing his best to keep the emotions in the box and lock everything down tight.I had Lorena come over because Lorena Valaitis is tough and nobody’s damn fool and seeing this strange car and people staring at her house, she’s gonna take notice and confront them. And honestly, because Flynn sort of needed more than to just spy on her walking her kids to the car. This hurts like hell, but it also helps him make more peace with her situation. And on a meta level, Lorena deserves some Goddamn screen time and a voice of her own rather than being simply a concept inspiring Garcia’s emotions, because she’s a really great character to write.As to the house, it made sense for Lorena to live there now. I’d written it as an inheritance from her grandparents that the Flynns used when they were stateside with Lorena’s family. They lived primarily in Croatia, in Split, due to Garcia’s work as an Eastern Europe NSA asset, but as I wrote in the vodka confessions, they were planning to move to Baltimore permanently in the future. So it’s a house Lorena loved. Of course this Lorena whose life centers even more tightly around her hometown will still live there.I had the murders happen in Baltimore because it makes more sense for him to get to Brazil, especially with virtually no money and no resources, if he’s on the proper side of the Atlantic already, and from the look of the cemetery and some the names on other headstones in 1x06, they’re seemingly buried in America, not Croatia, which is what originally made me go for Lorena likely being American. (I think the “wife” on Lorena’s headstone is an angry accusation by the Valaitises of oh look, it’s a wife and daughter taken too soon as more domestic violence statistics!)And it’s another good and bad thing for Garcia. Seeing the house again for the first time since he ran from Rittenhouse is not easy. But seeing it as a place where this didn’t happen, where Lorena’s family lives and it’s peaceful and good, will actually do him some good in the end. But for now the cognitive dissonance is most definitely a mindfuck. The fact Lorena doesn’t seem to have even that “huh, do I know you?” moment both helps and hurts. This is when he knows it’s truly over between them, because it never was, and he’s glad because it means she’s safe. He probably figures Emma will never go after her because this is more or less a punitive peace treaty forced upon him on the Lorena and Iris issue. Rittenhouse kills this Lorena, it’s game on again for him to change history to get both Iris and his Lorena back. Garcia being Garcia, he sees how happy and safe she seems and thinks about how she’s so much better off, how this is the life she should have had and he couldn’t fully give her. At this point he’s basically Pushkin’s Ya vas lyubil as a giant sad Croatian and saying his goodbye to her, and it hurts but he’s OK with it because he’s convinced she’s better off than she ever was with him. Because yes, Flynn has a few self-respect issues.Denise, in that moment, probably is concerned for him as a friend but seriously in awe of how he can control himself in this situation and flawlessly bluff his way through it without even a flicker of the devastation showing. Because Garcia Flynn, albeit a Human Disaster, is also a Very Good Agent. Seeing how the two of them readily play off each other shows Garcia a lot about the teamwork they have in this timeline where they don’t have all the bitterness and mistrust that they do in the original. It’s weird, yes, but he’s grateful for it anyway.It would have been way too easy for Tim to be an asshole, or for them both to be Rittenhouse, and then Garcia has quote unquote the “right” to try to rescue Lorena from this, blah blah. I didn’t want to go that route. Tim’s a good man, a good husband, and a good father. They literally have never heard the name Rittenhouse, except maybe there’s some place in Philly named that?He’s seen Lorena and he knows he has to accept this. But Lorena’s the easy part. Iris is the hard one. Denise drags him to her favorite cop bar in the ‘burbs between DC and Baltimore where she used to live, and given they’re now on the wrong side of town to easily head back to Gettysburg, and it was probably at least a half hour or forty-five minute drive to go specifically to that bar, she’s clearly spending some time and effort on this. And he notices that. It’s what you do with someone who’s been a partner on this years-long mission, who’s become a close friend. You drag them to your favorite bar, buy them a beer, and just sit with them. If they want to talk, they talk. If they don’t, you just silently support.Side note: in this timeline, I do think Denise and Garcia have also bonded over her being a lesbian WOC born of immigrant parents and him being an immigrant, bi, and demi (though I don’t think he has the word to describe the latter–it’s maybe Lucy or maybe even Jiya that defines it eventually) and being in a profession that’s not always exactly the most friendly to non-white, non-straight, and non-native born. And prior to noticing him pining for Lucy, she really was trying to think of a nice woman or man to set him up with. ;) He’s trying to make peace with it so he can carry on, but he’s also kicking his own ass that he handed Emma that information because he so desperately needed an ally. Though notice it doesn’t turn into paranoia: he doesn’t start to regard Denise with suspicion.So: Lorena is fine, but Iris is forever out of his reach. He realizes his mother was wrong–you do have to find a way to let go, somehow, eventually. There’s no hope for Iris. The best he can do is not make himself a worse man trying to bring her back. But he’s struggling really hard to let go, and not feel like he’s failed her as a father. He’s got a clean slate, and Lorena’s happy, but he’ll have to live knowing he owes that to Emma. Fine. Rittenhouse is going to burn for this, and Emma especially, because as angry as he was in 2x07 at her betrayal, it is now 100% personal between them. But Garcia being Garcia, and still so used to being alone and without support, he starts wandering back towards the Dark Side. That sort of cold steely rage we saw from him in season 1: Only the mission matters. You don’t. He’s good for killing things. All right then. Bring it on. He pushes himself through range clearance, and then when they get back to Gettysburg, he goes right to the punching bag to go push the injured shoulder exactly like Abby Kovac told him not to do. Because he can’t be weak when the next mission happens. And yeah, he’s got a few frustrations to work through right then and punches and kicks sound like a great idea.He couldn’t save Lorena or Iris. Rufus died right in front of him. He almost got killed himself, and he’s seeing that it was a very severe injury and he’s not 18 and able to just bounce right back from it. And emotionally off balance as he is then, he stumbles onto the next part of it: he can’t be less than back to normal on the next mission, because he absolutely, positively, 100%, cannot fail Lucy. He can’t lose her. Can’t watch her die. Realizes he almost did in Chinatown.He’s not quite at Sao Paulo levels of emotional breakdown, or season 1 levels of closed-off rage, but he’s definitely Not In A Good Place. And he’s pushed himself so hard he’s exhausted and can’t even punch anymore. And it’s then that Lucy shows up. (Actually, she’d been standing there for a few minutes already trying to figure out how to handle this, and him backing off gave her the opening she needed.) And dammit, Lucy, your timing is impeccable because you’re just what’s needed here. She came, because as much of a screwup as he thinks he is, somehow she does care. He manages to calm down a little, enough to say he’ll go get cleaned up. They’ll talk, and he’s hoping that somehow, she’ll say the right thing as she usually does, and show him a different way. Denise tried, Jiya was sympathetic, but as usual, it’s really only Lucy who has that deep enough bond to get through to him when he’s on the edge of the void.

ANYWAY. Anyone else want to join the Denny’s parking lot fight?

#garcia flynn #lucy preston #denise christopher #500 words meme #timeless #askbox #fancynewbeasly #sorry for the lack of cut but can't seem to get the damn thing to work

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ghostwinchesters · 7 years ago

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Eggnog and Lies

part ii, part iii

tags: sastiel, college rooommate au, dean’s coming to stanford for the holidays, sam needs a bf asap, swearing, implied charjo, past megstiel, past samifer i def don’t ship it and it’s displayed vEry negatively, lucifer was manipulative, sam is self deprecating, cas is panromantic (!!)

characters: sam winchester, castiel, dean winchester [mentioned], jo harvelle, charlie bradbury [mentioned], lucifer [mentioned], balthazar, gabriel, meg masters [mentioned]

word count: 2k

AO3 Link

Part II

“Okay, so give me the whole story, Sam.” Jo put a glass in front of him. “And drink up.”

He gave her a confused look. “Eggnog? I think I could use something a little stronger than eggnog.”

She smirked. “Nah, don't worry about that. It's got plenty in it… Now tell me.” Jo leaned against the counter with her eyebrows raised. “Charlie said Dean’s coming tomorrow, and you're freaking out because…” She waved her hand in a please explain motion.

Sam groaned. “Do I really have to talk about it?”

“Hey, Charlie said you needed help finding a date or something, and I'm trying to help you out, but I need some context, Sammy.”

He avoided her gaze and looked around the coffee shop instead. It was some stupid holiday party at Jo’s cafe and Charlie had told him to go. The place was popular around campus and it was busy, especially because of the party and it being Friday night. Alex, Claire, and Jack were busy serving everyone while Jo talked to Sam, which made him feel bad but he knew she wouldn’t stop now.

“It's Sam. And not just a date. I literally need someone who's been dating me for a while. And that's obviously not gonna happen by tomorrow.” Sam let out a long sigh as Jo kept looking at him in confusion. “Yeah, Dean’s coming tomorrow for Christmas. I mean, I didn't even know he was coming until the other day! He originally said he wasn't gonna make it, but Bobby convinced him to take some time off from the shop and…” Sam's voice trailed off.

“Okay, but what's the problem? You and Dean get along pretty well, I thought. And why the fuck do you need a datefriend?”

Sam looked down at his eggnog. “Um, beginning of this year, after winter break, Dean was just kinda worried about me. I dunno. He does that a lot. Especially after last year, and losing Jess…” Sam stopped talking before shrugging. “I mean, I didn’t even have a roommate yet because it’s like people were freaked to stay with me after the fire last year… Until Cas anyway because he obviously doesn’t give a shit about possible curses. Anyway, I started dating Luce in like April and Dean felt better because I had someone, even though he never met him.”

“Yeah, well, Lucifer was a complete and total dick who didn’t deserve you. Glad you dumped him.” Jo winced when Sam looked down at his glass. “Sorry. That’s not his name, and maybe that was a little har-”

“No, no… You’re right. He was a fucking dick and I should’ve broken up with him a lot earlier. I just… when I finally told Dean a few weeks ago, I said I was dating someone else, but now I’m probably just gonna have to tell him that I kinda totally lied and he’ll probably be worried because I lost someone again, and I dunno.” He looked up with a tired grin. “Unless someone wants to fake date me?”

Jo snorted. “Hey, don't look at me, Sammy. I've got a girlfriend. But we’ll see what we can work out. You gonna be picky about who?”

“Uh…” Sam chuckled nervously. “I accidentally said he when I told Dean I was dating someone, and had to keep going with that lie.” Jo groaned and gave him a seriously look. “You have any willing gay guys arou-?” He jumped slightly when someone dropped down on the bar stool next to him.

“Well, I’m gay and possibly willing. It might work?”

“Cas… Do you have any idea what we’re talking about?” Jo asked at the same time that Sam mumbled, “You’re… gay?” He felt himself get excited and happy for a second, but shoved it down, ignoring it.

“Absolutely none.” Cas shook his head and shrugged. “And yes. Well, panromantic if you want to get specific… Anyway. Why the hell do you need a willing gay guy?”

“No reason. You’re already stuck being my roommate. You don’t need to hear about my problems.”

Jo’s eyes lit up and she grinned. “Actually, that could totally work.” She turned to Cas. “He needs someone to fake date him while Dean’s here.”

“Dean… Your brother Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“He doesn’t want Dean to worry about him after Luce and everything, so he needs to pretend he’s been dating someone for a while. A guy, specifically.” Jo gave Sam a fake smile and he glared at her. “Which means we have fewer options.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll do it.”

Sam froze, staring at Cas, who shrugged. “You’ll… you’ll what?”

“Like you said, I’m already living with you. It won’t be that hard.”

“Yeah, and this way you guys actually know each other, which’ll make it more convincing.”

“Y-yeah.” Sam attempted a smile, feeling nervous. This couldn’t be happening. He’d had a slight crush on Cas for a while, and now he was supposed to fake date him?

“Cas has experience with stuff like this too.”

Cas ignored her and looked at Sam with a small smile. “Only if you want to though, Sam. It’s your choice.”

“Okay, yeah. Why not?”

“Cool.” Cas grinned. “Winter break was going to be boring anyway, so this is good.”

Jo rolled her eyes and snorted. “You guys are both weird, okay? Really fucking weird… And I’ll get you two more eggnogs on the house while you figure this out because you’re also my fucking weird friends.”

Sam shook his head. “No, no. Jo. It’s fine.”

Jo pretended not to hear him and went to make two.

“Good luck changing her mind, Sam.”

“Yeah…” He looked up. “What’d she mean about you having experience with stuff like this?”

“Uh, we went to highschool together, and there was this girl Meg. She was dating my brother Michael but he was a douche and she caught him cheating with her sister, Lilith.”

“Who—shocker—was a total bitch.” Jo put two drinks in front of them. “You guys can go to the back room if you want. It’s quieter. Not as many drunk-on-freaking-eggnog students over there.”

Cas stood up and Sam followed him to one of the couches in the back of the coffee shop.

“Yeah, so she asked me to fake date her as petty revenge, and I agreed,” Cas said as he sat down, picking up where he’d left off. “She was my friend, and it’s not like my brother was exactly my favorite person or anything. And, oh man, Michael was pissed.” Cas laughed, looking up at the ceiling. “We were only gonna do it for a couple months, y’know? But… somehow we ended up dating for real? All through summer break and then senior year.”

His smile faded and he shrugged. “Then college happened. I got accepted here, to Stanford, and she got into Oxford. She, uh, well she said it was fine and she didn’t have to go. But come on. Who are we kidding? Full ride to Oxford? I told her to go. She was smart and deserved it.”

“I’m sorry…” Sam mumbled. “Seems like you really liked her.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I did, but it's been a while. And besides, I generally tend to get attached to people more than they get attached to me.” He smiled again, even though it was tight.

“Yeah…”

“Okay! So how did we start dating?”

“What?”

“What’s our—” air quote “—meet cute? For anyone who asks.”

“Um…” Sam’s mind went blank as Cas stared at him, waiting for suggestions.

“You’re helpful.”

Sam made an exasperated noise. “Okay, fine. You think of something in five seconds!”

“Okay, after breaking up with Lucif— Luce, you were kinda moping around forever, so I dragged you out of the house and to the movies and then to dinner. The waitress at the diner thought we were a couple, and we thought it was funny so we didn’t correct her, but then in the parking lot, I kissed you and admitted I liked you.”

“But that’s all true!” Sam whined, shaking his head. “You didn’t think any of that up!” His face flushed and he was thankful that the room was dim except for the Christmas lights strung around the room and single desk lamp on in the corner where someone was actually studying. “I mean, except for the kissing part… And the you liking me part obviously.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Cas laughed. “You can stop blushing, Sam.”

Not dim enough apparently. “I’m not blushing.”

Cas leaned forward and touched Sam’s face with his cold hands. “Pfft, yeah you are. Your face is really warm.”

“Shut up.”

Cas smirked but pulled his hand away.

“Does everyone call him Lucifer?” Sam forced the question out, his voice quiet, even though he’d been wondering for awhile and probably knew the answer.

Cas didn’t answer right away and Sam glanced down at his lap. “All your friends do.”

“Oh.”

“Sam.”

He met Cas’s blue eyes again.

“You were way too good for that ass. And you’ll always be too good for him.”

“That’s not tr-”

“Yes. It is true, Sam Winchester. I don’t care what he told you, but you are incredible and deserve so much more than him.”

Sam gave him a small smile, knowing that Cas believed what he was saying, but he was having a hard time believing it himself.

They both sat in silence for a little while until Cas came up with a new question.

“We’re gonna have to sleep in the same room, aren’t we?”

“I can sleep on the floor.” Sam shrugged. “Put some blankets or a sleeping bag there.”

“Yeah, no. Not happening, Sam. I mean, come on. As long as you don’t mind, I don’t care either. And your bed’s big enough.”

“Yeah, well, last time we ended up cuddling!” Sam’s voice squeaked nervously when he remembered the night after he broke up Luce.

This time Cas’s face turned red, but he shrugged. “You were drunk and miserable after that stupid party and your stupid breakup. And when I got you home you were already half asleep. You asked me to go to sleep with you with those puppy dog eyes. How was I supposed to say no?”

He broke his gaze away from Sam as two people came into the back room. “Oh. Hey, Balth. Hey, Gabriel.”

“Cas!” Gabriel grinned. “Who’s your friend here?”

“Oh, um. This... this is my boyfriend, Sam.” He scooted a little closer, and Sam held up his hand in an awkward wave.

“Winchester? Your friend who was dating Lucifer?”

“Not just my friends. Apparently your friends even know him as that,” Sam muttered.

“Okay, my fault,” Cas mumbled back.

“So you’re finally dating your roommate, huh, Cassie?” Balthazar asked, giving Cas a possibly suspicious look.

“Yes, yeah.” Cas was trying to pull himself together, but he obviously hadn’t expected having to lie to his friends already. “Dating my roommate!”

Balth still looked unsure but he didn’t say anything about it as Gabe pulled a chair to sit across from Sam and Cas and asked, “How long you been together? And with out telling us, Cas?”

“Uh, five weeks now, I guess.” Sam intertwined his fingers with Cas’s, partially because they had to look like realistic boyfriends but mostly because he was nervous and it made him feel better. “And no one really knows yet. We’re, um, I guess we’re taking it slow. Yeah.”

“When’s the wedding?” Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

Cas, who’d been taking a sip of his eggnog, almost choked. “What? Sam literally just said taking it slow.”

“He’s only joking, Cassie.” Balthazar smirked. “Don’t panic… Come on, Gabriel. Let’s leave the two lovers alone.”

“Ugh, fine. Catch you later, assholes.”

“Uh-huh. See you, Gabe.”

After Gabriel stumbled back into the main part of the cafe, Balthazar gave them a look. “Work on your acts, boys. Don’t know why you’re doing it, but if you want to be convincing... Well, you’re going to have to be a lot more convincing.” He left before either of them could reply.

“Could’ve gone worse?” Sam shrugged and Cas ran his fingers through his messy hair.

“It’s okay. We’ll make this work.” He stood up, not letting go of Sam’s hand, and pulled him to his feet. “Wanna go home?”

“Yeah. Dunno when exactly Dean’s driving up tomorrow, but I should probably get things ready for him.”

Jo winked at them as they walked past the counter, fingers still entangled.

“Thanks… for the eggnog, Jo,” Sam added, even though it was a lot more than that. “Goodnight.”

a/n: i’m.... not sure?? if this is any good?? but yeah??? there it is?? i hope i’ll have the next part up soon. feedback is appreciated, loves. xxx

Eggnog and Lies Tag List: @plaid-lover-bay25 @wintersfavoritechild @feathersinthesky @scentedglitterpeace @bernalheights @yifera @teenwolf-theoriginalsgirl @assbutt-still-in-hell @alliekay727 @ronweascly @mylifeisafuckingcrueljoke @ladylilithprime @jazzforthecaptain @lilsliceofpie @youarentreadingthis @otera-kicks-ass @secretlydaydreaminglifeaway @syeriane @nevermeanttofall @waywardtimelord @samspurpletoothbrush @kisahawklin @samflovver @soulless-sastiel @onlyslightlyobsessed1 @just-another-apple-scruff @heyjudecarryonbaby @dazzling-roaring-20s @supernaturalgirl33-blog-blog @italy-kun27 @pewdpewd @xxxcrimson-spyxxx @cat-fellow @thesmellofasinnamonroll @martorada @scentedglitterpeace @all-day-i-scream-about-sports @confessionsofafulltimenerd @devoted-to-boyking-samshine @yuseatonpotter @elliwhat @deadinsidebutliving

If you wanna get added to the tags or removed, hmu! literally so sorry if you were interested in @ladylilithprime‘s thing (because who isn’t interested in their writing?? it’s incredible??) and not mine!!

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peachrings-and-bluebells · 7 years ago

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Thoughts on LY: HER

I just wanted to put my thoughts on the album and the songs themselves down~ Please remember these are my opinions and they are based on my preferences.

<< If you don’t wanna read everything, here’s a summary: >> I don’t think this album will ever be considered my favorite - HYYH Pt.2 is still holding onto that top spot with WINGS and HYYH Pt.1 close behind - and while the songs aren’t super-super catchy (like I’ve had to listen to some a few times before the tracks stuck), I like this warmer, happier feeling I get when listening to the songs. It’s not like BTS only does sad / intense / crazy hype songs, but looking at the past two-ish years, it’s all been quite emotional. Also, the albums tend to follow BTS’s feelings and thoughts at the time and it seems like they’re in such a good, happy place with this album, and that just makes me happy. And again, the overarching theme of this series is loving yourself / love in general so I’m not really surprised by all the “love” songs - and it’s love expressed in different ways, too.

Maybe this isn’t the type of music I’d listen to constantly, maybe it’s not their best, maybe this, maybe that... In the end, I think it’s a good album still. They’ve worked hard on it, they’ve shared their thoughts and feelings, and they’ve made good music that they’re proud of. Though I may not absolutely adore this album, I will always be thankful that they’re sharing their journey with us.

<< Warning: I don’t know how to shut up when it comes to BTS’s music so I might have written a truck-ton... And it’s not even half of what’s on my mind OTL >>

Intro: Serendipity I absolutely ADORE this track - the instrumental is fantastic, Jimin’s voice is heavenly, the lyrics are freaking great - and it’s just such a beautiful song. I just feel like I’m floating and surrounded by a calm, loving blanket. (What the heck does that even mean...???) Also, also - Namjoon, you are seriously amazing (as always) and thank you for this song. No more on Serendipity because if I continue, I’m going over every single second.

DNA The WHISTLING ho boy the whistling - and then that (acoustic?) guitar at the beginning? Addictive, honestly. And then we start with Taehyung’s glorious low voice like thank you whoever decided to do that. Once I can figure out how to pronounce the lyrics for the hook properly, I’m totally going to be singing that all the time. Now, whoever pointed out the way Jin sings “baby”, please step forward so I can glare at you for making me pay closer attention - my heart nearly stopped when I heard it. Darn you. And also how Jungkook sings “DNA” because that’s been stuck in my head since teaser 2. Then there’s the way all of vocal line slide in and repeat “forever” - so awesome but doing so many strange things to my delicate heart. And don’t even get me started on Hobi’s ��la la la la la” omg (hehe the “la la la” is back~) Also, at first I was kind of meh about the lyrics, but I kind of like the idea of using DNA to express this connection that somehow transcends time and space and all that.

The choreography is another thing entirely so I should probably leave it out of this post... (Also, yeah, there’s noticeable autotune on their voices but personally I’m not really bothered by it so moving on.)

Best of Me Nothing much to say about the instrumental other than I like how it builds, but I’m totally loving the “Haru haru / yeoreum gyeoul / neon mollado / You got the best of me” bit ‘cause it sounds so so nice. Rap line always sounds great, but I can’t get over just how good Yoongi’s verse is hgureaofjs Plus, they’ve got the choir sort of sound going behind their singing in the chorus and it’s A+++.

Also, first of two songs to ARMY. Yeah, this can be taken as simply a song about saying this person you love who loves you has “the best of [you]”, but in the context of BTS and ARMY, it’s like a reminder of BTS’s love for their fans (us, haha yaaassss) and how much they care for us and what we mean to them.

BTS x ARMY ... from the day of the universe’s creation and on, through the infinite centuries and on, in the previous life and maybe the next too, we’re forever together. (Why, yes, I did just quote the DNA lyrics. Thank you for noticing ^^)

Dimple / Illegal Gotta mention the freaking “illegal / illegirl” pun. Another tick under strange things BTS has said in their songs hehe. Also another tick for having a song solely dedicated to one thing (hello Converse High~). Anyway, seriously loving the opening of the song and lookie, Taehyung starts again :D The way they pull out some of the words (you, cruel, illegal, illegirl) just sounds really good. Vocal line just keeps getting better and I love being graced by their angelic voices~ But darn them for making me wish I had dimples >.> (Wasn’t this album about loving yourself...?)

Pied Piper So, not gonna lie, I was super worried about this song ‘cause I saw a lot of negativity surrounding the lyrics - turns out things were mostly just thrown out of proportion (purposely...?), and while I highly doubted BTS would write that kind of stuff, it’s still reassuring to know that it’s just people making a big deal out of nothing. (And accurately translating from Korean to English is hard to do so some of the lyrics sound a bit strange.)

That aside - yes, I joked around about how they were poking fun at us for loving them so much, BUT I saw it as a possible reminder/warning from them that while we may love them like crazy and maybe a little too much for our own good, we shouldn’t forget to live our lives outside of everything related to them. They’re of course grateful for our support, but they also want what’s best for us and part of that is to take care of ourselves now and for the future.

Okay, on to the song itself - THE OPENING :DDD so many good openings to songs yaaasss. The chorus is SO FREAKING GOOD that they’ve totally pulled off the Pied Piper theme (or part of it) and I’ve been lured by their sweet voices. And the fact that they’re aware of the fandom and our tendencies and our reactions to them and all that??? Guys, please, we know too. This might just be my favorite non-title group song. (I’m kind of in love with the song that’s telling me be careful about loving them... wow okay)

Skit: Billboard Music Awards Speech I’m still super amused that they put this in the album, like “ARMY, look! Remember this?” as if we aren’t still crying over that. (Whoa wait it’s been four months already?) Also, love the way it ends because it kind of sounds like it connects to MIC Drop’s opening.

MIC Drop OKAY SO THIS SONG OMG - Just the way it starts is already crazy, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over it. I’m kind of loving the way they’re boasting about their success. I swear, I pull an unconscious smirk every time I read “There are too many trophies in my hands.” Actually, I might have a mental smirk every time I hear the song... I think there’s quite a bit of autotune on their voices (not sure, not that knowledgeable) but I feel like it fits this kind of bragging tone in the song I’m hearing. (I actually looked back at their discography and, if I’m remembering correctly, this might be the first group song in a while where they’ve outright stated their greatness.) Also, Hobi calling haters steaks? Yoongi’s line with ... grape? (Someone please explain that one...) Even more weird lines to catalog lol.

Go Go First of all, THAT WOODWIND INSTRUMENT (Is it a flute? A recorder? Dunno.) And then Jimin singing “dollar dollar” and “dallyeo dallyeo (run run)” sounds so freaking good I can’t. So hearing the song itself, you’d think it’s kind of a typical “do whatever ‘cause why not YOLO lol” song - and the lyrics also seem like that, too. But it’s in the way they’re singing/rapping that you get a better sense of the true meaning/intention of the song, and I love that contrast. The instrumental is really interesting - it sounds a bit tropical and I love it. I really can’t believe BTS has got me liking a song that repeats YOLO in its chorus what kind of magic do they possess??? (it’s probably because they’re doing it in a sarcastic way that makes me all for it...) And THAT’S RIGHT END WITH THE FLUTE / RECORDER THING HECK YEAH (I used to play flute, in case you were wondering about my excitement.)

Outro: HER Ahem, as a MYG biased ARMY, I am obliged to start off with MIN YOONGI FREAKING SINGS IN THIS SONG HE’S SINGING THIS IS NOT A DRILL. Okay, back to calm me. I love the chill vibe of the song, especially since it’s the end of the album (not really). I haven’t talked about Namjoon’s rapping, but that might just be because he always delivers but, like Yoongi, HE’S SINGING YAY (He’s legit working towards becoming Vocal Mon, isn’t he? I support you in this endeavor Nams.) And and more singing from Hoseok, too? We’re just getting spoiled at this point. Now, can someone please explain “I call you her her ‘cause you’re my tear tear” ...?

Skit: Hesitation and Fear ... and ... Sea I’m waiting till I get my copy of the album to listen to these two, even though my laptop can’t read CDs anymore... maybe I’ll add my thoughts then?

END

If you actually read all of this... I’m giving you a virtual cookie ‘cause I can’t do anything else. (Laaame) Also, wow thank you if you even skimmed this monster of a text post. I mainly just did this to avoid thinking about having to find a job as soon as possible... (Oh shoot, is that Pied Piper playing in the background of my mind?)

#bangtan #love yourself HER #long post #like extremely ridiculously long why am i like this #my gods this is so text heavy #blame bangtan i'm only like this with them freaking heck #it's 12"40 AM jeez...#queue-ring it up: peachbell's out!

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seenashwrite · 8 years ago

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Nash’s 200th Follower Celebration Challenge!

Get your spy gear ready.

We’re gonna take inspiration from Archer, y’all.

I haven’t personally seen this used in a challenge [at least in my circle]. It is so full of potential, from snark to sexy times to knock-your-socks-off shock. Even if you aren’t familiar with the source, the prompts are so very tasty, I can’t imagine each & every writer won’t find at least ONE to gobble up.

*** 120 Prompts! So just one writer apiece *** ---> YOU KNOW WHAT?? SCREW IT! Send me THREE!!!!

But! There’s a challenging bonus at the bottom [#121] with NO LIMIT TO THE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE WHO WANT TO TRY IT!

I’d recommend just a “scene” versus an entire fic, or tack it on to your actual entry in a weird prologue or epilogue, something of that ilk. It’s nuts. I’m not overselling the nuttiness, here. Weave some magic. EXAMPLE

Full guidelines at the bottom.

THE ONES THAT TOTALLY COULDA BEEN IN AN SPN EPISODE:

1. "Team Live Badass"? That's the best you could come up with?

2. Oh, I thought we were laughing at the dead people we set on fire. @wrenwritesometimes

3. AHHHH! The dust! It's like being shot in the eyes by a glitter gun!

4. Oh, you don't look like a whore... an idiot, maybe? Or both! Yes! A whore-diot! @jalove-wecallhimdean

5. --- What is this herpes business? --- Bad joke... and a false alarm. @itswitchcraft-not-googlemaps

6. Wanna try yanking on the pipe?

7. You ass, for the love of all that's green, take me and the rabbit to the lettuce store! @wrenwritesometimes

8. Eat a buffet of dicks. @hannahindie

9. --- And now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go kill some evil clowns. --- [long awkward pause] --- Do you have an erection?

10. You're just gonna leave him with a grenade stuck up his ass?

11. It would be rude not to eat her pie, which I assume is not only hot, but also moist... although hopefully not flaky.

12. Nothing can make up for almost killing me over a briefcase of what I can only assume is either plutonium or a human soul.

13. Oh don't worry. He may be a vain, selfish, lying, and quite possibly alcoholic man-whore, but gambling is one vice he doesn't have. @fanforfanatic

14. I want it on record that I think this is a terrible plan.

15. They say the devil's in the details... and silk pajamas.

SNARK-A-PALOOZA:

16. All I've had today is, like, six gummy bears and some scotch. @wrenwritesometimes

17. For I am a sinner in the hands of an angry God. Bloody Mary, full of vodka, blessed are you among cocktails. Pray for me now and at the hour of my death, which I hope is soon. Amen. @butiaintgonnaloveem

18. --- Every single time we come here, we have to help you get rid of a dead body. --- Well, you've only been here twice. @senselesssamii

19. Swear to god, you people make me want to pump nerve gas through the vents. @impalaimagining

20. Why is your instinctive response to run toward explosions? @impandagrl

21. On second thought, I very much prefer to be taken alive. Just let me clear the ol' browser history aaaand...

22. Is it murder if they were my own clones? I'm seriously asking. @littlegreenplasticsoldier

23. I've always wanted to fight on top of a moving train. @amanda-teaches

24. I've never seen an ocelot! You guys, look at its little spots! Look at its tufted ears!

25. If this doesn't work, we just paid a hundred bucks for liquid fart.

26. Oh my god - I'm gonna die in a toilet stall, just like the gypsy woman said!

27. I swear, if you throw that computer on the floor one more time, you’ll wake up in a mental ward with total amnesia under someone else’s name! @idreamofhazel

28. You just killed, like, ten pirates.

29. -- Grilled cheese. -- What? -- Grill me a cheese. -- I'm not grilling you a cheese. ME!

30. The Russians turned me into the unholy abomination of metal fused with flesh that now stands before you.

31. --- I swear, if anyone saw me in this awful van... --- How could they, with this illegal-ass window tint? Dude, this van is like, rolling probable cause.

32. Not really the explosive climax I thought it was gonna be.

33. There's a zoo here?

34. What in the name of pre-paid venereal disease do you think you're doing?!

35. Are you not rampaging? I thought you were rampaging. ---> AVAILABLE AGAIN!!!!

36. Hundred people surveyed, number one answer's still on the board: Name the douchebag who's in charge! @roxy-davenport

37. Why would you think it's okay to share that?

38. You do realize there's a finite supply of Vaseline in the universe.

39. --- So then it's settled. We're a-go on Operation... what should we call it? --- Dick Sledge.

40. I saved her life! Go ask that dick I set on fire!

41. You want me to take a baby to a murder? @impalaimagining

42. You do realize you're in huge trouble - and now I have to spend my first Friday off in forever devising some bizarre punishment for you? ---> AVAILABLE AGAIN!

43. Have you no sense of decency? That bathroom’s like a… a war crime.

44. Hey, you awake? ‘Cause this is about to get weird. @klaineaholic

45. That's disgusting - if I wanted to look at your bare feet, I'd sneak in and do it while you were asleep.

46. Better pill up - you're assisting with the surgery.

47. --- Frickin' head's poundin', I'm sweatin' booze and my mouth's killin' me! --- You're the one who stuffed four pool balls in it.

48. Holy shit, you geeks are badass. @uselessace

49. You're ruining your life, you idiot! And making it hard to drop a deuce.

50. Right, because you walked into Strippers’ Discount Warehouse and said, “Help me showcase my intellect". @butiaintgonnaloveem

51. I've had good results with Ether.

52. Hey, will you choke me a little bit? @littlegreenplasticsoldier

53. That stolen lemur bit one of your prostitutes right in the face and she says she can't go to the hospital because she's, quote, "tripping balls”.

54. --- Jeez, you're still taping bum fights?! --- No, now I'm into something... darker.

55. That is my foot in your face - smell the embarrassment.

56. Oh! And, uh, by the way, try not to be unconscious for too long - it's super bad for you. @withstarryeyes

57. Both of you imagine shutting up! @uselessace

58. Idiots doing idiot things, because they’re idiots.

59. --- Please tell me that's a smoke grenade. --- Okay... it's not, though. ----> AVAILABLE AGAIN!!!!! :)

60. Sorry - I was picturing Whore Island. @kayteonline

61. Somebody smells like they ate the ass-end out of a northbound cow.

62. I don't know... sometimes I think I'd like to adopt a little baby... so I could abandon it at a mall.

63. Well, he died doing what he loved - getting shot. @withstarryeyes

64. Baby, I was emotionally shattered - which turns out to be kind of a panty-dropper. @hannahindie

65. Now what am I going to spread on my toast? Your tears?

66. Sorry, that’s just a, uh, sympathy boner. @pinknerdpanda

67. Holy shit! Yogurt is amazing! Why have I never tried yogurt?! @littlegreenplasticsoldier

68. Seriously, call Kenny Loggins - 'cause you're in the DANGER ZONE. @kayteonline

69. I’m afraid the lemur got into the pudding cups.

70. I'm sorry, are you addressing me? Because your authority is not recognized in Fort Kickass. @kittenofdoomage

71. Does internet porn know you're cheating on it? @klaineaholic

72. No, it's too dirty - it's full of whatever alligators shit out, which I can only assume is people.

73. Oh my god! What shade is that? Crack whore red?!

74. Man, if I don't get some spaghetti and meatballs, I may literally die.

75. You used-panty vending sons of bitches!

76. Thank you both for all that you did do which, again, was nothing. @pinknerdpanda

77. Damn, dog! That’s inappropes!

78. If a single one of these has left the building, I will personally sew you into a canvas bag full of rats and throw that bag into the river. @littlegreenplasticsoldier

79. Who do I have to murder around here to get this damn thing to make some ice? ----> AVAILABLE AGAIN!!!! :)

80. I'm sorry, what's that? I can't hear you over the sound of my deafening awesomeness. @amanda-teaches

81. Don’t try to body-shame me, dog tits.

82. Is it just me, or does it smell like finger?

83. Ahahaha, man, you never rent a mule - ya lease that surly bastard.

84. When we first started going out, I may have... injected a tracking device into your body. @fanforfanatic

85. And I don't want another one of your sullen whores using my medicine cabinet like a Pez dispenser.

86. Because I've been lying in scorpion piss for two hours in the sun-blasted shit-hole which is Texas, waiting for a stupid truck.

87. If I cared about what you do on the weekend, I'd stick a shotgun in my mouth and pull the trigger with my toes. ME!

88. Punk-ass bitches! ----> AVAILABLE AGAIN!!!! :)

89. And instead of doing my job, I was here - half-drunk and having amazing sex.

90. Well, no wonder this all went tits-up.

91. Right? And I know it sounds crazy, but I like them as much as cocaine!

92. Next time, remind me to get shot in the head. ME!

93. You were the one yapping your head off about my damn teacup pig!

94. Who wants their ass beat first? And before you decide, keep in mind that I'm gradually going to get more tired, but also gradually more Berserker.

95. So you're not planning to blindfold me and hide me in a bomb shelter with limited oxygen and send my family cryptic notes about how to find me in a race against time for my life?

DEFINITELY CLASSY:

96. Who are you supposed to be, Topper Bottoms? Stern yet sensual skipper of the U.S.S. Rough Service?

97. You better pray to god it wasn't you who hit me. Because whoever it was hits like a little bitch of a girl, who was born with some kind of bitch of a birth defect, so that instead of a fist, she just has this tiny bitch of a nubbin.

98. I don't care! Having said that, would you please come into this dirty toilet stall and have sex with me?

99. Because you - prolapsed rectum that you are - are infatuated with her, whose cobwebby old snooch, by the way, I can smell from here! @butiaintgonnaloveem

100. --- The thought of me dying gives you an erection? --- Just half of one - the other half would have missed you. @kayteonline

101. I swear to god, you could drown a toddler in my panties right now. ME!

102. Stop - my penis can only get so erect. ME!

103. Can you not rub your dick in my mother's pantyhose, please?

104. --- Oh my god! You killed a hooker! --- Call girl! She was a---- --- No, when they're dead, they're just hookers!

105. Vincent Van Go-fuck-yourself.

106. Okay, we're off to get our scrotums waxed!

107. --- Well, maybe you're lame! --- Maybe you should shut your dick holster.

108. You’re a large-diameter dickhole.

109. First, see if he wants a beej...

110. Water? Oh, never touched the stuff. Fish fuck in it. @kayteonline

111. --- Oh god, it tastes worse than it smells! --- Man, if I had a nickel for every time I heard a guy say that.

112. Who, me?! No! No, I've been up here the whole time, having some phone sex! Just jackin' it, on the telephone. @fandommaniacx

113. I am literally wet with jealousy. @klaineaholic

114. Why does this chair have no seat... and WHAT IS IN HIS ASS?! And unless it was the creepy-old-people-bondage-sex police, why would anyone break in here and shoot him?!

115. Because I have sex with actual women! My girlfriend's not equal parts the internet, a tube of Kentucky jelly, self-loathing, and a sock. @hannahindie

116. And what part of your job, exactly, is groping my ass? @wideawakeandwriting

117. --- Maybe you should've thought about that before you blew it! --- I blew jack shit! --- Name-dropper.

118. After this, I am going to go home, watch NCIS, and masturbate until my fingers bleed. @itswitchcraft-not-googlemaps

119. --- Was that before or after you got caught fondling a teenager? --- Well, obviously before - after, it was all French Armed Forces and dick stitches.

120. You can't put a price on good pussy. @wideawakeandwriting

AND IF YOU ARE UP TO THE CHALLENGE:

121. No no no no - Like, a big, sweaty fireman carries you out of a burning building, lays you on the sidewalk and you think – Yeah, okay, he's gonna give me mouth-to-mouth – but instead he just starts choking the shit out of you, and the last sensation that you feel before you die is he’s squeezing your throat so hard that a big wet blob of drool drips off his teeth, and just – flurp – falls right onto your popped-out eyeball.

Bravery incarnate(s): @kittenofdoomage @fanforfanatic @uselessace @butiaintgonnaloveem

1. Supernatural only, please-and-thank-you [adjacent is fine, too - such as having O.C.s carry the bulk of the dialogue weight because we’re seeing the story through their eyes while, say, being hunters working with S & D or Jody & Donna or whatever your heart desires]

2. Pick your faves & any back-ups [and if you’re gonna take a run at #121] ---> shoot ‘em to me at DEAR NASH & I’ll hit you back with a confirmation

3. Write & post your thing ---> don’t forget to tag me somewhere & use this in your first handful of tags: #Nash200

4. Have it in between June 11th - June 17th [about 6 weeks from original posting] ---> TAKE TIL JULY! SOUND GOOD???? ;)

5. Definitely Do: the “theme” you are most comfortable with / feel you write the best / have the most fun on - these prompts lend themselves to snark and/or sexy times, but lord knows y’all angst-devotees will find a way [that’s fine, too!]

6. Hard Pass: dom/sub; “kinks”; alpha/beta/omega; Wincest/any incest; real person fic [no Jensen/Jared/Misha/etc.]

7. Length can be anywhere from haiku to vignette to... well, keep it around the max length that you’d want to read if it were your challenge, ‘k? And don’t you dare spend more than a weekend on it - if it becomes laborious for you, holler at me, we’ll find you another prompt or you can drop out, no worries.

PS: If you wanna stick Archer characters into the mix? Bring. It. On.

PPS: Walls of text & bulk of text not behind “read more” = An Unhappy Nash + An Unhappy Dash

P3S: And because it’s my party, if Dean is in your story and he calls someone “Sweetheart” ? If it isn’t in a jerk-face, patronizing manner, I’m gonna foam at the mouth

THANK YOU for coming along with me on this ever-evolving funtastic SPN fandom ride! -Nash.

#supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #SPN Meets Archer #Archer Meets SPN #Nash200 #SeeNashWrite's 200th Follower Celebration

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onlylovekpop · 8 years ago

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I’m Back!

Hello, everyone. Sorry I’ve been MIA for a little while. The past few weeks have been a little hectic for me. I’m closing drabble requests now and have received lots of good ideas. Thank you to all of those who submitted! Also, two of the requests have turned into oneshots (this is a rare thing, but sometimes I get carried away and it happens lol.) The oneshots will be a pirate!au with some smut for Jimin and a dance camp smut with Yugyeom. I’m also finishing up my first Jungkook smut oneshot that I started working on ages ago and involves Netflix and chill. Hehe. Hope you’re all doing well and please look forward to the upcoming drabbles and oneshots! :)

(replies below the cut beware im drinking vodka while i answer to make my responses more interesting hehe (actually im getting as drunk as i can to deal with my vengeful uterus which is very unhappy i have not conceived any spawn this month and is giving me cramps from hell) you may notice my spelling grammar and punctuation get worse as you read please dont hold it against me)

anonymous asked: Hi Leigh we haven't heard of you since you mentioned having knee surgery the next day and I had this really bad feeling I hope you are ok? For some reason I am genuinely concerned and I don't know why so I hope everything went well??

Yes, all is well! I healed in pretty good time and am already out and about again. It’s a surgery I’ve had before so I knew what to expect and nothing out of the ordinary happened. Thank you for checking on me. Sorry if I made you worry :)

omg-mystarx-neoctech asked: Hell YES JOOHEON.

I SAY THIS ON A DAILY BASIS!

anonymous asked: Can I just say I fucking love the layout and look of your blog. Also I just read one of your smuts and holy shit im deceased.

Thank you! I’ve been revamping some of the pages but I only have a few of them done, so a few things may be blank at the moment. I changed it so fics are listed by member instead of type I hope that’s better but if anyone has opinions on the layout please let me know :)

anonymous asked: OKAY BUT THAT JOOHEON SMUT WAS FUCKING DELICIOUSLY SINFUL. I'M HAVING HEART PROBLEMS.

Jooheon himself is deliciously sinful tbh. I have heart palpitations every time I see a pic of him wearing tight pants. Or just pants in general. i aint never seen such pretty thighs before

neon-flamingos asked: I read Rhythm and omg i criedddddd it was so good i just can imagine Jooheon saying all those dirty thingssss my vayjayjay cries

look i recently saw that vid of him speaking english and his accent is so good which means i can totally hear him in my head saying all them naughty english things this is not good what have i done my lady parts also cry HELP

anonymous asked: Everyone is talking about the Jooheon smut and I'm here still crying because of how hard Chained up hit me

oh god that was not my best work but im glad you enjoyed it the thing never got edited i hope its not a hot mess haha sorry markiepooh but it still got the job done i think hehehe

anonymous asked: A part of me regrets reading Underworld AF....but it was such a good read too... that last chapter HURT but it was a good hurt

oh no dont regret reading it! that makes me sad! its a long ass fic i dont want you to get to the end of it and think holy shit i wasted so much time reading that horror flick i tried to bring it full circle in the end im glad you thought it was a good read i panicked for a second haha

honeyheonie asked: HOLY FUCK!!!! I have sinned. 'Rythm' was 👌👌👌👌👌

me too darling ;) thank ya

anonymous asked: Do you have a quote or prompt list we could use? :)

i do not. i leave it up to you guys that way you have lots to choose from

topaz-and-turquoise asked: For some reason, I only just got to binge-read the last 3 chapters of Underworld. Leigh. LEIGH. YOU ARE THE QUEEN OF BTS-GOT7 CROSSOVERS. YOU ARE THE QUEEN OF CROSSOVERS. THE QUEEN OF ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU'S. OF ALL AU'S. YOU ARE THE BEST AT WRITING TENSION AND HEART-WRENCHING SCENES AND THE COMPLEXITY OF PEOPLE AND JUST HOLY FRICK YOU'RE AMAZING. THANK YOU FOR THIS. I KNOW YOU ALREADY KNOW BUT THIS IS MY FAVOURITE KPOP FANFIC OF ALL TIME. I'M SAD IT'S OVER BUT I'M SO SATISFIED. YOU ARE THE BEST.

she calls ME QUEEN! thank you thank you I SQUEAL A LOT AT THIS im actually sad its over too. but im content with it. I HOPE IT IS FOREVER YOUR FAVE you stuck with me through the whole thing thank you i love you

statetheobvious04 asked: I've long been a follower for your underworld series and Jesus christ it's one of the best series of read ever. The storyline was so gripping and full of love and loss that by the time I finished the last chapter my chest was heavy and I nearly cried. Idk how you did it but I feel like I've personally lived through minas insane and perilous journey and felt every single emotion as if it were my own. It's een a while since I've read the earlier chapters but I feel like if I do il start 1/2 2/2 sobbing. You are such an amazing and talented writer that this story deserves to be developed into a book or movie but eve then those may not do it justice. But honestly, thank you so much for sharing and writing. And I’m so happy mina finally got the life she deserves and that everyone else managed to find peace in Iceland 💜💜💜💜

THIS MAKES ME HAPPPY YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW CAN I DESCRIBE MY JOY AT THIS MESSAGE you make me cry thank you for loving mina and thank you for supporting the story and thank you for telling me how it felt to read it i love you <3

anonymous asked: hi leigh! I have a question. I hope it doesn't come across the wrong way, I'm just curious! May I ask why you're not taking exo requests?

you’re good honey :) honestly im just not in an exo mood at the moment. i still write for them i still even have a baekhyun oneshot in my drafts idk im just not feeling like writing for them for drabbles at the moment if that makes sense

anonymous asked: Do you still open the drabble request?

they are closed now.

anonymous asked: I'm a Yoongi at heart but your story Underworld made my heart 'boom boom'. Seriously this is the best mafia /zombie apocalypse AU I have ever read and I read a lot of fan fiction. Keep up the good work. PS: Some drabbles based on Underworld wouldn't hurt. PSS: If you don't understand the heart boom boom reference , go see the latest Buzzfeed interview of BTS.

i can’t help but only hear got7′s boom boom boom though haha im down for underworld drabbles i think i mentioned before that any gang!au drabbles i do will be in the underworld universe before the zombie outbreak so far i only have the one for bambam i would link it but im too tipsy for something that level right now sorry :D

anonymous asked: I fucking love your angst writings, they get me emotional aha

thank you i love angst i like toying with emotions ehehe

anonymous asked: Underworld is amazing!!! One of the best stories I've read, even though it has me crying from Paris all the way to the end.😭😭😭😭 You done good. 😁

we dont talk about paris haha jk that one hurt too much thank you darling that its one of the best you’ve read means the world to me :)

anonymous asked: How can you write like thattttt!!!! I adore you. I'll always be your follower 💖

AND IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU and i’ll always be here! i promise <3

anonymous asked: Who is that in your header gif?

It’s Suga :)

thewriterpixie asked: *squeals* I just finished reading the Suga father/daughter date drabble! It made my day!

Thank you! I love that one so much :)

anonymous asked: Okay I was reading Wake Up and Play with Me and for some reason it reminded me of their song Paradise?¿¿ Now whenever I hear it I'm gonna associate it with this smut xD

Ooh i like the sound of that! i really love Paradise but I think Sign is my favorite on the album but how do you get your question marks upside down i thought the room was spinning for a second i kid you not lol

anonymous asked: Your Jooheon smut got me looking at Jooheony at a different way now 😏 thank you for writing such a quality one shot! You're one of the best of the best!

YAS come to the jooheon side we have thick thighs and adorable dimples you will not regret this ;)

taecmekai asked: hope you are ok and recovering well from your knee surgery :)

i’m okay! gained a few pounds from being stuck on the couch for a few days but idgaf hehe ;) i’ll get back to yoga when i feel like it

coppertopging asked: I just finished Underworld. holy crap the emotional coaster you took me on! I read the last 7 chaps today & i couldn't stop crying. I didn't when Jae died, but his 'funeral' got me with the reactions from everyone. & then Hobi?! That was the most painful. I had to stop & pull myself together. Yoongi made me laugh a little with his delivery. My favorite part of the ending was the Jk/Yugy part. The only thing I felt was missing was more detail into Namjoon & Jin. But this story was amazing!!!

yeah hoseok was the hardest for me too. i wanted to keep anything namjin related kinda vague and open to the reader’s interpretation that’s why there wasn’t much material there but im very glad you enjoyed the story thank you :)

anonymous asked: holy fucking shit. it's 4am and i just finished reading Underworld and i'm crying so hard there's so many emotions i'm feeling. thank you so much for that masterpiece. it's the first work of yours i've read and omfg you're talented as fuck. i'm actually a bit speechless still tbh it's only fully processing to me ...hobi... he's not even my bias but i'm crying so hard i need help wow SO MUCH LOVE FOR U AND UR WRITING THO

omg i cant believe you stayed up that late to read it i wish i could do that but in my old age i dont bounce back that well anymore (i just turned 27 and am very upset about it) anyway THANK YOU this makes me very happy

danphilandstuff asked: OH MY FUCKING GOD RHYTHM WAS SO FUCKING GOOD THANK YOU SO MUCH ITS ACTUALLY HOW I IMAGINED HIM TO BE IT FELT SO REAL IT WAS ACTUALLY THE BEST FANFIC IVE EVER READ IM CURRENTLY READING YOUR MASTER LIST. you're actually such an amazing writer thank you so much (Could I request more Jooheon fics? ((If you want and have time)) )

i will never stop writing jooheon fics. you have nothing to worry about there haha. WHAT DO YOU MEAN ITS THE BEST FANFIC YOUVE READ IT WAS SUCH A RAUNCHY SEX FEST I SHOULD BE ASHAMED lol just kidding no but in all seriousness THANK YOU I LOVE YOU IM GLAD YOU LOVED IT I HOPE YOU KEEP COMING BACK FOR MORE MUHAHA

anonymous asked: (1/3) Hey lovely! I came across your blog today after reading your monsta x all in one shot and i just wanted to say thank you for writing something so incredible! it had me gripped from start to finish and it was honestly one of the most (2/3) well-written pieces ive ever read, I would love to be able to write at your standard one day. I cant express how grateful i am, it put me through so many emotions and i actually had tears in my eyes at one point! So yeah, apologies for this (3/3) being so long but i just wanted to express my gratitude and say that you are an amazing writer :) x

oh my goodness this was ridiculously lovely. i am very proud of All In and how it turned out. i hope to finish the sequel soon. i keep getting writers block on it and i dont know why but anyway. thank you for sending me this and im thrilled that i could write something you enjoy very much. you are too kind thank you <3

#replies

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idealisticrealism · 8 years ago

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Blindspot 2x13 recap

(Aka the one with Shepherd’s real name)

So much going on in this ep! Weller gets his Boss Pants on to stop some terrorist farmers, and then ends up kidnapped by the creepiest terrorist with the most boring name, our very own Shepherd AKA Ellen Briggs. Meanwhile Roman is barely present (sadly), Jane is adorable, Tasha is an awesome friend, Reade is a mess, and Patterson needs to be swaddled in blankets and protected at all costs.

A very delayed and slightly shorter review this week, but lbr I’m gonna have so many thoughts about the Rich ep that it’ll more than make up for it haha.

Lol I was wondering why I had no memory of this opening scene and then I remembered that my crappy livestream was having issues the other day and I didn't see anything before when Shepherd says goodbye to Kurt on the couch. Oh man I can't believe how much I missed? I'm LOVING this young rebel Kurt (we knew he snuck out to see Sarah, but dude he literally punched a guard for it?? And ughhh he's all angsty and has those intense blue eyes and okay legit who is this actor because I am getting young Wentworth Miller vibes from him and it is WORKING FOR ME. Aaaand then Shepherd shows up and ruins my buzz, bc of course she does. Also she is either a really old-looking 30yr old here or a very young looking 50yr old in present day haha. "To really protect people, you need power. This place is the first step in getting it" yeaaaahhhh mm-hmmm this place is totally a Sandstorm recruitment spot. I just know it. And aaaahhhhh that whole scene was a memory that he was recounting to Jane as they approached the school, I’m so happy about it. Also lol remember earlier in the season when like half a scene could go by before you even realised Jane was in the room? That's now happening to Nas instead (literally it seemed like Weller and Jane were alone given how focused they were on each other). Also damn, Archie is so tiny! What a lil munchkin. Also I love how much more positively he responds to things that Jane says vs things that Nas says? I appreciate that subtle difference there writers, thank you

Sigh Reade what is with this endless string of bad decisions? You clearly do not want this woman in your apartment right now, and you weren't planning on getting her number either. Dude. And you missed your daily morning workout with Zapata! Which I, for one, am delighted to learn is a thing that they do. And then awww Patterson calling them 'the three amigos'. She is too cute. I need this team to be together forever okay?? Like for their whole careers and then when they retire they can all go on cruises together and hang out and stuff. But anyway then she shows them the tattoo they'll be following-- some fake Genesis quote (the bible passage, not the band) that some farmer posted about, and when they ask how she found out about it, she hedges and says she doesn't want to bore them with the details. And Reade totally speaks my mind when he asks, "Since when???" haha. And then she says it's ‘too much math’?? Nope, uh-uh, something is wrong here. Patterson never misses an opportunity to get her math on. Is she deliberately being evasive or is she having difficulties with mental calculations etc? Seriously c’mon Tasha and Reade, don't just let that slide. But they head off, both saying 'let's move' at the same time because they're two lame-o’s that are just super lame and I love them

Lol the secretary lady gushing over Weller. And then Jane corrects her that he's the Assistant Director rather than an agent and hmmm who’s gushing now?? Aaaaahhhh Wifey is so proud of her man. Like just genuinely proud and amazed by him and ugh save me. And then hahaa "you both work for the FBI too?"-- *ex-terrorist/unpaid FBI asset and shady NSA agent look at each other*-- "Sure" haha. But wait a sec, is this the same boss guy? He kept that job for twenty years? Nice. And then omg 'Ellen Briggs'. I'm sorry, I think you just named a florist who lives in the suburbs with her husband and four kids and who crochets in her spare time, not a psychotic terrorist leader. I just... Ellen. It’s so... harmless-sounding?? And then the boss guy talks about how this army lady that occasionally came to give talks convinced him to keep one random student and then even paid that student's fees? Like how did that not see weird to him??? And then the moment the three of them leave the friendly reception lady calls Sandstorm??? Geez. It’s like I’ve always said, never trust people who smile too much. All those gleaming teeth gotta be hiding something. Also lol I feel like Nas (and even Jane) didn't really need to be there for that but I appreciate that Weller brought Jane with him at least. lbr Nas probably invited herself along bc being the unwanted third party is kinda her specialty

So now the team has a name to go on, but still don't seem to be having much luck. Damn military firewalls. But wait she was a Major General, and the Deputy Director (seems like the deputies are the important ones in this show) of the Defense Threat Reduction Agency? Is that a thing? I'mma google it. Huh it actually is a thing; the DTRA is "the official Combat Support Agency for countering weapons of mass destruction." So basically she was once part of the jedi order but then turned to the dark side. Well, I guess fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and we all know where hate leads... on a completely unrelated note, though, I am going to have "I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General" stuck in my head for approximately the next 600 years. Thanks, show. But anyhow totally unsurpirsingly most of the info about Shepherd is redacted or missing so they still don't really know much more than they did before. But they do figure out that she's paying for the care of an old colleague/friend of hers so at least that gives them a place to start looking. And lol for the second time this morning someone has said let's go' and everyone immediately leaves.... except Patterson, who just chills and enjoys the cushy desk chair and climate control in her lab haha.

Lol Zapata trying to suggest that Reade sees a psychologist. That's actually a really good idea, Reade. Though I will admit your last experience with a psych wasn't a great one...

Weller you recognised that game SO FAST. How old were you even in ‘88? Six? Though apparently this game was a super big deal, like it was a miracle win for them somehow? Idk enough about baseball history but could this game and the Dodgers be an allusion to something that happened with Shepherd/Sandstorm in 88? And then when Jane introduces herself as Remi (which must be weird for her) he says she's not on the Dodgers. Does it actually mean something?? And then after Nas is all "give up he's got dementia" Jane is the one that comes up with an idea, suggesting that Weller talk to him about baseball to maybe get through to him. She also totally unnecessarily touches his arm as she suggests it which I am appreciative of. I am so Jeller-starved that I’ll take whatever I can get lol. And then ughh the way she watches him as he talks to the old man. Nas sees it, she knows what's up... and ugh Jane looks so sad for him when the guy just says the line about Kurt playing for the mets (and that he was supposed to be a national but 'they would never allow that".) She wanted so badly for Weller to get some answers bc she knows how awful it is to not know something so huge about your life and ughhhhh my babies

So the team has reunited and Jeller are up to speed about the farmer with the plans for a big kaboom. And then suddenly they find him with facial recognition... in their own building. And loolll I love that the whole team immediately starts running-- except for Patterson, who is like "Running? Nah thanks. You guys got this" haha. Also seriously like did the team take the stairs? Or did they just sprint into the elevator and then all stand there awkwardly shuffling their feet while the elevator took them to the correct floor? Because this is a detail that is very important to me and I must know it. And then they catch the guy who is *gasp* an informant, but my main interest is that the team managed to gain two random agents on the way?? Like how did they get them? Were they in the elevator and just ran out with the crowd?? "Hey guys what's going on oh okay we’re running now??". And then wtf this dude is working for them??? Oh wait, no, he's working for Mr DoucheyFace, who is literally having him entrap private citizens, which both Weller and myself are pretty sure is a no-no. And which Weller yells at him about (mysteriously suddenly sans jacket) and takes over because he is the MAN IN CHARGE. And I dig it.

So anyway aaaahhhh Jane/Roman is everything and ugh Roman is having confusing ~feels~ about Shepherd and I don’t like it. And come on lbr they would totally give the files on Shepherd to Roman. They need to know what he remembers and that would be one of the best ways to do it. But ugh of course Jane is scared that he's gonna remember the Zipping and ugh my babies

Speaking of babies, ugh Patterson is still not looking good (health-wise, not appearance-wise, because she always looks gorgeous). The now-jacketed Weller is picking up on it too, and ugh he's concerned about her and also knows she's keeping something from him. And then bam she drops the bomb that she used the info from Omaha and omg Weller's face is like sTOP BREAKING THE RULES EVERYBODY and then omg he strides angrily back to where Doucheyface is and the guy calls him 'sir' which pleases me bc he da boss and also bc the team doesn't have to call him sir bc they’re his squad hehe. And then Weller is really doing his taking charge thing (update: the jacket is gone again lol) and oooooh he's let the douche convince him to send the informant guy out into the field against his better judgement and oooohhhh he's gonna regret thiiiiisssss. Aaaaaand yep he does, bc psycho farmer lady sees right through the informant’s shit (never try to fool a pissed off woman) and dude they couldn’t have given him a vest?? I have a hard time believing Weller allowed him out there without a vest. And oooh now we’re having a bike chase kinda reminiscent of 2x01 while RUDE FARMER PEOPLE ARE SHOOTING AT MY BABIES. But natch our super squad take care of them, though meanwhile doucheyface ruins Weller’s mojo and the crazy lady gets away. Bummer.

So Nas clearly has no problem giving Roman all Shepherd’s files, contrary to what Jane was saying. And I love this spinning camera effect that captures Roman's confusing feelings as he looks at the photos and ugh he wants to know if Briggs is his last name too (thank god it’s not) and why she didn't legally adopt them and then ughhh he has 'warm' feelings towards the pictures of Shepherd and maybe THIS is what Jane was afraid of? Him forming an attachment to Shepherd?? But in any case ugh I just wanna hug my baby boy

Mmmm more Shouty Boss Weller. I love when he shouts at people I don't like. And I love that he has the power to fire this guy. But man things don't look great, the team can't find the lady anywhere..... and then their system reports a robbery which proves that Crazy farmer lady has a whole ton of explosive stuff (not a literal tonne. But a lot. idk) to blow something sky high. And so naturally Jeller, the A team and the perfect combination of Strong Trustworthy Justice Man and Caring Compassionate Understanding Lady, are the ones to go talk to the farmer guy they captured to try and learn what the target is. I mean who wouldn't want to spill their guts to these two. I'd say anything just in the hope that they’d think well of me. And clearly Farmer Joe feels the same, because he tells them where the target is, and they all race there-- Weller naturally again choosing Jane to stick with him. #Lifepartners. But then Patterson radios in--- a Big Truck is racing towards the building and is almost certainly carrying the explosives. So what does Weller do? Why, stand in the middle of the road, of course! Because you know he just hasn't been almost-killed in an explosion for like a couple of days and the poor dude's going through withrdawals. But of course he’s such a badass that even a speeding truck ain't gonna dare mess with him, so it ends up crashing instead (okay, the bullets he expertly put into its tyres might have had something to do with that) but tbh rn all I can think about is Jane watching this situation??? Like she must be so scared for Weller standing there unprotected (no one can convince me she wasn't going to try and tackle him out of the way if the truck had gotten any closer) but she would also trust in his judgement and his abilities and let's not lie here, she totally found that whole moment as hot as we did. But anyway fantasies aside, crazy lady jumps out of the truck with a detonator in hand and is immediately surrounded by the team. And then ugh everything that both Jane and Weller say to her reflects so much of the FBI vs Sandstorm/ good vs bad theme of this season and ughhh he walks right up to her and takes the detonator from her hand and dude you're not making it easy for me to focus on the Serious Life-Threatening Business rn bc I'm already back to thinking about how much Jane probably wants to shove you against a wall rn and gawd this is just a lot for me to handle rn

Oh but here's a proverbial bucket of cold water, in the form of Nas, coming into Weller's office and instantly killing the mood. Geez, lady, you're like that visitor that overstays their welcome and misses all the cues to leave. She’s also again playing the unwanted stand-in for Jane in this scene (legit this would have been a great scene between Jeller but instead is completely uninteresting and feels insincere, despite it being meant to be deep). Also she mentions something about Sandstorm and personal stuff causing him to lose sight of the ‘bigger picture’ and I am so sure that this is foreshadowing for when she's revealed to be some kind of sneaky traitor who was using them this whole time for her own shady gains. It's coming, I know it.

Ah, thankfully here's a much better duo. Weller is making Patterson stop using Omaha because using it is crossing the line into Bad Guy Zone and compromising themselves. And she gives in, but has a last bomb to drop-- Mayfair had spoken to the old guy in the nursing home back when he was in charge of the DC office, suggesting Weller be promoted/transferred to DC the year before. But Shepherd blocked it, ensuring that Weller was still with the NYO when Jane was found. Ooooooohhhh Weller, how deep in this web are you tangled? And why?? Dramaaaaa. Also as a sidenote, Patterson's voice has sounded off throughout this entire episode and I am so interested to know if Ashley just like has a cold atm or if she's deliberately altering her pitch as a subtle sign that ~something is amiss~. I mean she's a voice actor so this is literally her jam...

Naw and another pair that I enjoy so much more than any that includes Nas! Tasha gives Reade some gentle ribbing about their gym date, but in true Zapata fashion, is genuinely caring beneath the jokey exterior. And she tries to support him with his possible 'new relationship' and tells him not to get in his own way. Which we all know he's not going to listen to bc he's Reade and he's a freakin disaster

Weller in the nursing home is actually super cute. And then he's trying to get info from the old guy about why Shepherd (I can’t call her Ellen, it's too weird) wanted him to stay in NYC. And the guy says "You're the face of the franchise, her star player", but okay WHY. Why is he their Chosen One???? And what the hell is the Truman Protocol?? Is it a nod to the movie The Truman Show, where the guy has been watched his whole life, playing a role his whole life, without even knowing?? And then shit, they go to his room to talk privately (bad idea) and BAM a wild Shepherd appears?? Plus a dude who must be wearing super bulky coat to have been able to sneak that GIANT GUN into a nursing home???

Aaaaaahhhh Jane shows up at Roman's cell and is taking about what they'll have for dinner and it sounds like they do this all the time which is THE CUTEST THING. But then Roman's too focused on Shepherd and her light terrorism so it kinda puts a dampener on things. Just like when he questions her about whether she's being used by the FBI, and ughhhh I love that she is so sure when she says she helps them because she wants to (because they're her faaaamily ughh). But ugh I hope his anti-FBI-ness and insistence that they control her doesn't make her waver in her belief of her place in the team.... though lbr she already made her choice about where her loyalties lie and I can't see her ever turning away from the team. Not from them, and definitely not from Weller. Maybe not even if Roman's life depended on it, though I really hope we never have to find out for sure.

Sigh okay I have to say I just really don't like Nikki. They've given us nothing likable about her, and instead have her not only insult Reade's good qualities but also encourage his bad ones. He was already starting to spiral and she's just puling him down faster and ughhhh it’s frustatinggggg

And okay I have such conflicting feelings about Oliver. On one hand he's a bit of a cutie pie and he's genuinely sweet to Jane (ngl I 'aawwwed' a lil bit at the handholding scene), but on the other hand I know that he would just never be able to be able to accept Jane's true self and her past in the way that Weller does, so it's clear they have no real future. Plus, given my ridiculous prejudice against my own accent (and the cousin-accent of New Zealanders) every time he speaks it legit drives me insaaaane. I just need him to not talk, ever. Sigh but anyhow definite points to him for making Jane smile. Shame that his comeback basically means he's probably gonna die or at least meet with some unpleasant circumstances in the near future....

Naw Zapata showing up in Patterson's lab to make sure she's okay and that she's eating and ughhhhhh Tasha Zapata is SUCH A GOOD FRIEND. And ugh I love her so much for trying, even though it's only making Patterson flip out more. And seriously the voice thing is getting even more obvious and actually I just noticed Patterson also looks like she's wearing less eye makeup than usual and I feel like this is about to--- aaaaaaand she's on the floor. Noooooo. Sigh my baby, I hate seeing bad things happening to youuuu

And nooo my other baby. I'm sorry Weller honey I actually kinda forgot that Shepherd had you lol. And uuhhhh wtf is this 'powerful medicine' she used to get the old demented guy lucid? Bc lbr lady if you have something that can reverse Alzheimers, then seriously give up on the Sandstorm crusade and just patent that shit, you'll be a billionaire in no time! But anyhows Shepherd is being her usual super creepy self and is gushing over Weller, who is apparently 'saving the country' with her. Somehow. And so we know that she and Remi came up with the tattoo plan together, but she was the one that involved Weller in it. And she seems to fully expect that he'll help 'when the time comes' which definitely indicates that she knows something that we don’t. And wooooowwww she's kneeling in front of him legit stroking his thighs and GAWD WOMAN YOU CREEP ME OUT. Why must she be SO STROKEY all the time??? And then she cuddles with the old dude (who she apparently cared about) while she stabs him in the chest, before telling Weller that he'll have no choice but to join her, and that in another life, they could have been family. WHAT. THE. FUCK. Does she mean literally, like she was somehow connected to someone in his family-- ie, had been with his dad or something? Or is she being more poetic?? I literally cannot get a read on her, mostly bc she's all over the freakin place!!! She's a mess. But ugh anyhow Weller's gonna cut himself free soon and ugh I just wanna know who he calls first bc I obviously want for him to call Jane bc she's his ~person~ and ugh I need her to race to where he is and be so relieved when he's okay and ugh I just need some more Jeller huggin' alright???

Anyway sorry for the short(er) review-- tbh I really enjoyed this ep as I was watching it live, but I realised later that a big part of the enjoyment was the anticipation for another great Jeller moment... which never happened. I mean I get why, bc the ep had to reintroduce Oliver and also have Weller abducted, so there was hardly a chance to end this ep with another awesome Jeller moment like we got last time. But STILL. We all know I rate ep quality by the quality of the Jeller it contains, so to me this ended up just being a ‘good’ ep rather than an amazing one. But hey, Rich makes any ep and instant fave, so bring on ep 14!!!

#Blindspot #Jeller #Blindspot recap #I was SO close to not getting this one done lol #hope it's mildly interesting #but god I am so excited for the new ep give it to me now

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